Dexter

Inglourious Basterds CONTENTS CHAPTER ONE ONCE UPON A TIME IN . . . NAZI-OCCUPIED FRANCE CHAPTER TWO INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS CHAPTER THREE GERMAN NIGHT IN PARIS CHAPTER FOUR OPERATION KINO CHAPTER FIVE REVENGE OF THE GIANT FACE EXT—DAIRY FARM—DAY The modest dairy farm in the countryside of Nancy, France (what the French call cow country). We read a SUBTITLE in the sky above the farmhouse: CHAPTER ONE “ONCE UPON A TIME IN . . . NAZI-OCCUPIED FRANCE” This SUBTITLE disappears and is replaced by another one: “1941 One year into the German occupation of France” The farm consists of a house, a small barn, and twelve cows spread about. The owner of the property, a bull of a man, FRENCH FARMER, brings an ax up and down on a tree stump, blemishing his property. However, simply by sight, you’d never know if he’s been beating at this stump for the last year or just started today. JULIE one of his three pretty teenage daughters, is hanging laundry on the clothesline. As she hangs up a white bedsheet, she hears a noise. Moving the sheet aside, she sees: JULIE’S POV A Nazi town car convertible, with two little Nazi flags attached to the hood, a NAZI SOLDIER behind the wheel, a NAZI OFFICER alone in the backseat, following TWO OTHER NAZI SOLDIERS on motorcycles, coming up over the hill on the country road leading to their farm. JULIE Pappa. The French farmer sinks his ax in the stump, looks over his shoulder, and sees the Germans approaching. The FARMER’S WIFE, CHARLOTTE, comes to the doorway of their home, followed by her TWO OTHER TEENAGE DAUGHTERS, and sees the Germans approaching. The farmer yells to his family in FRENCH, SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH: FARMER Go back inside and shut the door. FARMER (to Julie) Julie, get me some water from the pump to wash up with, then get inside with your mother. The young lady runs to the water pump by the house. She picks up a basin and begins pumping. After a few pumps, water comes out, splashing into the basin. The French farmer sits down on the stump he was previously chopping away at, pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, wipes sweat from his face, and waits for the Nazi convoy to arrive. After living for a year with the sword of Damocles suspended over his head, this may very well be the end. Julie finishes filling the water basin and places it on the windowsill. JULIE Ready, Pappa. FARMER Thank you, darling, now go inside and take care of your mother. Don’t run. Julie walks inside the farmhouse and closes the door behind her. As her father stands up from the stump and moves over to the windowsill with the water basin . . . . . . The SOUND OF THE ENGINES of the two motorcycles and car get LOUDER. The farmer SPLASHES water from the basin on his face and down his front. He takes a towel off a nail and wipes the excess water from his face and chest, as he watches the two motorcycles, the one automobile, and the four representatives of the National Socialist Party come to a halt on his property. We don’t move into them but keep observing them from a distance, like the farmer. The TWO NAZI MOTORCYCLISTS are off their bikes and standing at attention next to them. The NAZI DRIVER has walked around the automobile and opened the door for his superior. The NAZI OFFICER says to the driver in UNSUBTITLED GERMAN: NAZI OFFICER This is the property of Perrier LaPadite? NAZI DRIVER Yes, Herr Colonel. The Nazi officer climbs out of the backseat of the vehicle, carrying in his left hand a black leather attaché case. NAZI OFFICER Herrman, until I summon you, I am to be left alone. NAZI DRIVER As you wish, Herr Colonel. The S.S. colonel yells to the farmer in FRENCH, SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH: NAZI OFFICER Is this the property of Perrier LaPadite? FARMER I am Perrier LaPadite. The S.S. colonel crosses the distance between them with long strides and says, in French, with a smile on his face: NAZI OFFICER It is a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur LaPadite. I am Colonel Hans Landa of the S.S. COL. HANS LANDA offers the French farmer, PERRIER LAPADITE, his hand. The Frenchman takes the German hand in his and shakes it. PERRIER How may I help you? COL. LANDA I was hoping you could invite me inside your home and we may have a discussion. INT—LAPADITE FARMHOUSE—DAY The door to the farmhouse swings open, and the farmer gestures for the S.S. colonel to enter. Removing his gray S.S. cap, the German steps inside the Frenchman’s home. Col. Landa is immediately greeted with the sight of the farmer’s wife and three pretty daughters standing together in the kitchen, smiling in his direction. The farmer enters behind him, closing the door. PERRIER Colonel Landa, this is my family. The S.S. colonel clicks his heels together and takes the hand of the French farmer’s wife . . . COL. LANDA Col. Hans Landa of the S.S., Madame, at your service. He kisses her hand, then continues without letting go of his hostess’s hand . . . COL. LANDA Please excuse my rude intrusion on your routine. FARMER’S WIFE Don’t be ridiculous, Herr Colonel. While still holding the French woman’s hand and looking into her eyes, the S.S. colonel says: COL. LANDA Monsieur LaPadite, the rumors I have heard in the village about your family are all true. Your wife is a beautiful woman. His eyes leave the mother and move to the three daughters. COL. LANDA (CON’T) And each of your daughters is more lovely than the last. PERRIER Merci. Please have a seat. The farmer offers the S.S. colonel a seat at the family’s wooden dinner table. The Nazi officer accepts the French farmer’s offer and lowers himself into the chair, placing his gray S.S. cap on the table and keeping his black attaché case on the floor by his feet. The farmer (perfect host) turns to his wife and says: PERRIER Charlotte, would you be so good as to get the Colonel some wine? COL. LANDA Merci beaucoup, Monsieur LaPadite, but no wine. This being a dairy farm, one would be safe in assuming you have milk? CHARLOTTE Oui. COL. LANDA Then milk is what I prefer. CHARLOTTE Very well. The mother of three takes a carafe of milk out of the icebox and pours a tall glass of the fresh white liquid for the colonel. The S.S. colonel takes a long drink from the glass, then puts it down LOUDLY on the wooden table. COL. LANDA Monsieur, to both your family and your cows I say: Bravo. PERRIER Merci. COL. LANDA Please, join me at your table. PERRIER Very well. The French farmer sits at his wooden dinner table across from the Nazi. The women remain standing. Col. Landa leans forward and says to the farmer in a low tone of confidentiality: COL. LANDA Monsieur LaPadite, what we have to discuss would be better discussed in private. You’ll notice, I left my men outdoors. If it wouldn’t offend them, could you ask your lovely ladies to step outside? PERRIER You are right. PERRIER (to his women) Charlotte, would you take the girls outside. The Colonel and I need to have a few words. The farmer’s wife follows her husband’s orders and gathers her daughters, taking them outside, closing the door behind them. The two men are alone at the farmer’s dinner table, in the farmer’s humble home. COL. LANDA Monsieur LaPadite, I regret to inform you I’ve exhausted the extent of my French. To continue to speak it so inadequately would only serve to embarrass me. However, I’ve been led to believe you speak English quite well? PERRIER Oui. COL. LANDA Well, it just so happens, I do as well. This being your house, I ask your permission to switch to English for the remainder of the conversation. PERRIER By all means. They now speak ENGLISH: COL. LANDA Monsieur LaPadite, while I’m very familiar with you and your family, I have no way of knowing if you are familiar with who I am. Are you aware of my existence? The farmer answers: Yes. PERRIER COL. LANDA This is good. Are you aware of the job I’ve been ordered to carry out in France? PERRIER Yes. The colonel drinks more milk. COL. LANDA Please tell me what you’ve heard? PERRIER I’ve heard the Führer has put you in charge of rounding up the Jews left in France who are either hiding or passing for gentile. The S.S. colonel smiles. COL. LANDA The Führer couldn’t have said it better himself. PERRIER But the meaning of your visit, pleasant though it is, is mysterious to me. The Germans looked through my house nine months ago for hiding Jews and found nothing. COL. LANDA I’m aware of that. I read the report on this area. But like any enterprise, when under new management, there’s always a slight duplication of efforts. Most of it being a complete waste of time, but it needs to be done nevertheless. I just have a few questions, Monsieur LaPadite. If you can assist me with answers, my department can close the file on your family. Taking his black leather attaché case and placing it on the table, he takes out a folder from inside. He also extracts an expensive black fountain pen from his uniform’s front pocket. Opening the folder and referring to it: COL. LANDA Now, before the occupation there were four Jewish families in this area, all dairy farmers like yourself: the Loveitts, the Doleracs, the Rollins, and the Dreyfuses, is that correct? PERRIER To my knowledge those were the Jewish families among the dairy farmers. Herr Colonel, would it disturb you if I smoked my pipe? Looking up from his papers: COL. LANDA Please, Monsieur LaPadite, it is your house. Make yourself comfortable. The farmer gets up from the table, goes to a shelf over the fireplace, and removes from it a WOODEN BOX that contains all the fixings to his pipe. He sits back down at the table with his Nazi guest. As the farmer loads the bowl of his pipe with tobacco, sets a match to it, and begins slowly puffing, making it red hot, the S.S. colonel studies the papers in front of him. COL. LANDA Now, according to these papers, all the Jewish families in this area have been accounted for—except the Dreyfuses. Somewhere in the last year it would appear they have vanished. Which leads me to the conclusion that they’ve either made good their escape or someone is very successful hiding them. (looking up from his papers, across the table at the farmer) What have you heard about the Dreyfuses, Monsieur LaPadite? PERRIER Only rumors— COL. LANDA —I love rumors! Facts can be so misleading, where rumors, true or false, are often revealing. So, Monsieur LaPadite, what rumors have you heard regarding the Dreyfuses? The farmer looks at Landa. COL. LANDA Speak freely, Monsieur LaPadite, I want to hear what the rumors are, not who told them to you. The farmer puffs thoroughly on his pipe. PERRIER Again, this is just a rumor—but we heard the Dreyfuses had made their way into Spain. COL. LANDA So the rumors you’ve heard have been of escape? PERRIER Yes. COL. LANDA Were the LaPadites and the Dreyfuses friendly? As the farmer answers this question, the CAMERA LOWERS behind his chair, to the floor, past the floor, to a small area underneath the floorboards, revealing: FIVE HUMAN BEINGS lying horizontally underneath the farmer’s floorboards. These human beings are the DREYFUSES, who have lived lying down underneath the dairy farmer’s house for the past year. But one couldn’t call what the Dreyfuses have done for the last year living. This family has done the only thing they could—hide from an occupying army that wishes to exterminate them. PERRIER We were families in the same community, in the same business. I wouldn’t say we were friends, but members of the same community. We had common interests. The S.S. colonel takes in this answer, seems to accept it, then moves to the next question. COL. LANDA Having never met the Dreyfuses, would you confirm for me the exact members of the household and their names? PERRIER There were five of them. The father, Jacob . . . wife, Miriam . . . her brother, Bob . . . COL. LANDA —How old is Bob? Thirty—thirty-one? Continue. PERRIER COL. LANDA PERRIER And the children . . . Amos . . . and Shosanna. COL. LANDA Ages of the children? PERRIER Amos—six—I believe. And Shosanna was fifteen or sixteen, I’m not really sure. EXT—DAIRY FARM—DAY CUT TO The mother and her three daughters finish taking the laundry off the clothesline. They can’t hear anything going on inside. The three Nazi soldiers watch the three daughters. BACK TO LANDA AND PERRIER COL. LANDA Well, I guess that should do it. He begins gathering up his papers and putting them back into his attaché case. The farmer, cool as a cucumber, puffs on his pipe. COL. LANDA However, before I go, could I have another glass of your delicious milk? PERRIER But of course. The farmer stands up, goes over to the icebox, and takes out the carafe of milk. As he walks over and fills the Nazi colonel’s glass, the German officer talks. COL. LANDA Monsieur LaPadite, are you aware of the nickname the people of France have given me? PERRIER I have no interest in such things. COL. LANDA But you are aware of what they call me? PERRIER I’m aware. COL. LANDA What are you aware of? PERRIER That they call you “the Jew Hunter.” COL. LANDA Precisely! Now I understand your trepidation in repeating it. Before he was assassinated, Heydrich apparently hated the moniker the good people of Prague bestowed on him. Actually, why he would hate the name “the Hangman” is baffling to me. It would appear he did everything in his power to earn it. But I, on the other hand, love my unofficial title, precisely because I’ve earned it. As “the Jew Hunter” enjoys his fresh milk, he continues to theorize with the French farmer. COL. LANDA The feature that makes me such an effective hunter of the Jews is, as opposed to most German soldiers, I can think like a Jew, where they can only think like a German or, more precisely, a German soldier. Now if one were to determine what attribute the German people share with a beast, it would be the cunning and predatory instinct of a hawk. COL. LANDA (CON’T) Negroes—gorillas—brain—lips—smell—physical strength—penis size. But if one were to determine what attributes the Jews share with a beast, it would be that of the rat. Now the Führer and Goebbels’s propaganda have said pretty much the same thing. Where our conclusions differ is I don’t consider the comparison an insult. Consider for a moment the world a rat lives in. It’s a hostile world indeed. If a rat were to scamper through your front door right now, would you greet it with hostility? PERRIER I suppose I would. COL. LANDA Has a rat ever done anything to you to create this animosity you feel toward them? PERRIER Rats spread disease, they bite people— COL. LANDA Unless some fool is stupid enough to try and handle a live one, rats don’t make it a practice of biting human beings. Rats were the cause of the bubonic plague, but that was some time ago. In all your born days, has a rat ever caused you to be sick a day in your life? I propose to you, any disease a rat could spread a squirrel would equally carry. Yet I assume you don’t share the same animosity with squirrels that you do with rats, do you? PERRIER No. COL. LANDA Yet they are both rodents, are they not? And except for the fact that one has a big bushy tail, while the other has a long repugnant tail of rodent skin, they even rather look alike, don’t they? PERRIER It is an interesting thought, Herr Colonel. COL. LANDA However, interesting as the thought may be, it makes not one bit of difference to how you feel. If a rat were to scamper through your door this very minute, would you offer it a saucer of your delicious milk? PERRIER Probably not. COL. LANDA I didn’t think so. You don’t like them. You don’t really know why you don’t like them. All you know is, you find them repulsive. (lets the metaphor sink in) What a tremendously hostile world a rat must endure. Yet not only does he survive, he thrives. And the reason for this is because our little foe has an instinct for survival and preservation second to none. And that, Monsieur, is what a Jew shares with a rat. Consequently, a German soldier conducts a search of a house suspected of hiding Jews. Where does the hawk look? He looks in the barn, he looks in the attic, he looks in the cellar—he looks everywhere he would hide. But there are many places it would never occur to a hawk to hide. However, the reason the Führer brought me off my Alps in Austria and placed me in French cow country today is because it does occur to me. Because I’m aware what tremendous feats human beings are capable of once they abandon dignity. (changing tone) May I smoke my pipe as well? The farmer’s cool facade is little by little eroding. PERRIER Please, colonel, make yourself at home. The Jew Hunter removes both a pipe and a bag of tobacco fixings. The pipe, strangely enough, is a calabash, made from an S-shaped gourd with a yellow skin and made famous by Sherlock Holmes. As the Nazi colonel busies himself with his smoking, he continues to hold court at the Frenchman’s table. COL. LANDA The other mistake the German soldiers make is their severe handling of the citizens who give shelter and aid to the Jews. These citizens are not enemies of the state. They are simply confused people, trying to make some sense out of the madness war creates. These citizens do not need punishing. They simply need to be reminded of their duty in wartime. Let’s use you as a example, Monsieur LaPadite. In this war, you have found yourself in the middle of a conflict that has nothing to do with yourself, your lovely ladies, or your cows—yet here you are. So, Monsieur LaPadite, let me propose a question. In this time of war, what is your number-one duty? Is it to fight the Germans in the name of France to your last breath? Or is it to harass the occupying army to the best of your ability? Or is it to protect the poor, unfortunate victims of warfare who can not protect themselves? Or is your number-one duty in this time of bloodshed to protect those very beautiful women who constitute your family? The Colonel lets the last statement stand. COL. LANDA That was a question, Monsieur LaPadite. In this time of war, what do you consider your number one duty? PERRIER To protect my family. COL. LANDA Now, my job dictates that I must have my men enter your home and conduct a thorough search before I can officially cross your family’s name off my list. COL. LANDA (CON’T) And if there are any irregularities to be found, rest assured, they will be. That is, unless you have something to tell me that will make the conducting of a search unnecessary. (pause) I might add also that any information that makes the performing of my duty easier will not be met with punishment. Actually quite the contrary, it will be met with reward. And that reward will be your family will cease to be harassed in any way by the German military during the rest of our occupation of your country. The farmer, pipe in mouth, stares across the table at his German opponent. COL. LANDA You are sheltering enemies of the state, are you not? PERRIER Yes. COL. LANDA You’re sheltering them underneath your floorboards, aren’t you? PERRIER Yes. COL. LANDA Point out to me the areas where they’re hiding. The farmer points out the areas on the floor where the Dreyfuses are underneath. COL. LANDA Since I haven’t heard any disturbance, I assume that while they’re listening, they don’t speak English? PERRIER Yes. COL. LANDA I’m going to switch back to French now, and I want you to follow my masquerade—is that clear? PERRIER Yes. Col. Landa stands up from the table and, switching to FRENCH, says, SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH: COL. LANDA Monsieur LaPadite, I thank you for your milk and your hospitality. I do believe our business here is done. The Nazi officer opens the front door and silently motions for his men to approach the house. COL. LANDA Madame LaPadite, I thank you for your time. We shan’t be bothering your family any longer. The soldiers enter the doorway. Col. Landa silently points out the area of the floor the Jews are hiding under. COL. LANDA So, Monsieur and Madame LaPadite, I bid you adieu. He motions to the soldiers with his index finger. They TEAR UP the wooden floor with MACHINE-GUN FIRE. The little farmhouse is filled with SMOKE, DUST, SPLINTERS, SCREAMS, BULLET CASINGS, and even a little BLOOD. With a hand motion from the colonel, the soldiers cut off their gunfire. The colonel keeps his finger in the air to indicate silence. UNDERNEATH THE FLOORBOARDS The entire Dreyfus family lies dead. Except for sixteen-year-old SHOSANNA, who miraculously escaped being struck by the Nazis’ bullets. With her dead family surrounding her, the young girl goes for freedom (represented by a wire-mesh vent). COL. LANDA hears a movement underneath the floor, looks down, and sees a SHAPE moving forward between the planks in the floor. COL. LANDA It’s the girl. Nobody move! VENT is KICKED open, the girl SPRINGS out. COL. LANDA as he crosses the floor, sees the young girl RUNNING toward the cover of the woods. He unlatches the window and opens it. Shosanna is perfectly FRAMED in the windowsill. SHOSANNA RUNNING toward the woods. Farmhouse and Colonel in the window in B.G. FILTHY BARE FEET SLAPPING against wet grass. CU SHOSANNA’S FACE same as an animal being chased by a predator: FLIGHT—PANIC—FEAR. SHOSANNA’S POV the safety of trees, getting closer. COL. LANDA framed by the window, takes his WALTER, and straight-arm aims at the fleeing Jew, cocking back the hammer with his thumb. COL. LANDA POV of the fleeing Shosanna. CU COL. LANDA SLOW ZOOM into his eyes as he aims. PROFILE CU SHOSANNA mad dash for life. COL. LANDA changes his mind. He yells to the rat fleeing the trap, heading for the safety of the woodpile, in FRENCH SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH: COL. LANDA Au revoir, Shosanna! SHOSANNA makes it to the woods and is gone. The S.S. colonel closes the window. EXT—DAIRY FARM—DAY The Nazi town car DRIVES away. EXT—NAZI TOWN CAR (MOVING)—DAY Col. Hans Landa sits in the backseat of the convertible that’s speeding away from the French farmhouse. Landa speaks to his driver in GERMAN, SUBTITLE IN ENGLISH: COL. LANDA Herrman, I sense a question on your lips? Out with it? DRIVER Why did you allow an enemy of the state to escape? COL. LANDA Oh, I don’t think the state is in too much danger, do you? DRIVER I suppose not. COL. LANDA I’m glad you see it my way. Besides, not putting a bullet in the back of a fifteen year-old girl and allowing her to escape are not necessarily the same thing. She’s a young girl, no food, no shelter, no shoes, who’s just witnessed the massacre of her entire family. She may not survive the night. And after word spreads about what happened today, it’s highly unlikely she will find any willing farmers to extend her aid. If I had to guess her fate, I’d say she’ll probably be turned in by some neighbor. Or she’ll be spotted by some German soldier. Or we’ll find her body in the woods, dead from starvation or exposure. Or, perhaps . . . she’ll survive. She will elude capture. She will escape to America. She will move to New York City, where she will be elected President of the United States. The S.S. colonel chuckles at his little funny. FADE UP CHAPTER TITLE APPEARS: FADE UP EXT—SOMEWHERE IN ENGLAND—DAY CHAPTER TWO “INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS” A bunch of SOLDIERS are lined up at attention. LIEUTENANT ALDO RAINE, a hillbilly from the mountains of Tennessee, walks down the line. He recruits the men the Germans will later call “The Basterds.” Lt. Aldo has one defining physical characteristic, a ROPE BURN around his neck—as if, once upon a time, he survived a LYNCHING. The scar will never once be mentioned. LT. ALDO My name is Lt. Aldo Raine, and I’m puttin’ together a special team. And I need me eight soldiers. Eight—Jewish—American—soldiers. Now y’all might of heard rumors about the armada happening soon. Well, we’ll be leavin’ a little earlier. We’re gonna be dropped into France, dressed as civilians. And once we’re in enemy territory, as a bushwackin’, guerrilla army, we’re gonna be doin’ one thing, and one thing only—Killin’ Nazis. The members of the National Socialist Party have conquered Europe through murder, torture, intimidation, and terror. And that’s exactly what we’re gonna do to them. Now I don’t know ’bout y’all? But I sure as hell didn’t come down from the goddamn Smoky Mountains, cross five thousand miles of water, fight my way through half Sicily, and then jump out of a fuckin’ air-o-plane to teach the Nazis lessons in humanity. Nazi ain’t got no humanity. They’re the foot soldiers of a Jew-hatin’, mass-murderin’ maniac, and they need to be destroyed. That’s why any and every son-of-a-bitch we find wearin’ a Nazi uniform, they’re gonna die. LT. ALDO (CON’T) We will be cruel to the Germans, and through our cruelty, they will know who we are. They will find the evidence of our cruelty in the disemboweled, dismembered, and disfigured bodies of their brothers we leave behind us. And the Germans will not be able to help themselves from imagining the cruelty their brothers endured at our hands, and our bootheels, and the edge of our knives. And the Germans will be sickened by us. And the Germans will talk about us. And the Germans will fear us. And when the Germans close their eyes at night and their subconscious tortures them for the evil they’ve done, it will be thoughts of us that it tortures them with. He stops pacing and looks at everybody. LT. ALDO Sound good? They all say: Yes, sir! ALL LT. ALDO That’s what I like to hear. But I got a word of warning to all would-be warriors. When you join my command, you take on debit. A debit you owe me, personally. Every man under my command owes me one hundred Nazi scalps. And I want my scalps. And all y’all will git me one hundred Nazi scalps, taken from the heads of one hundred dead Nazis . . . or you will die trying. EXT—MOUNTAIN TOP CHALET—DAY A huge chalet on a misty mountaintop in Bavaria. CUT TO A SUBTITLE APPEARS: “BAVARIA BERCHTESGADEN (HITLER’S PRIVATE LAIR)” INT—BERCHTESGADEN—DAY In a huge room, ADOLF HITLER pounds on a big table with his fist as he rants at TWO GERMAN GENERALS. They speak GERMAN SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH: HITLER How much more of these Jew swine must I endure? They butcher my men like they were fish bait! This pack of filthy degenerates are doing what the Russian army didn’t and Patton’s army couldn’t—turning soldiers of the Third Reich into superstitious old women! GERMAN GENERAL Just the cowards among them, mein Führer. Hitler pounds furiously on the desk with his fist. HITLER No, no, no, no, no, no! I have heard the rumors myself! Soldiers of the Third Reich, who have brought the world to their knees, now pecking and clucking like chickens. Do you know the latest rumor they’ve conjured up, in their fear-induced delirium? The one that beats my boys with a bat. The one they call “the Bear Jew” . . . is a golem. An avenging Jew angel, conjured up by a vengeful rabbi, to smite the Aryans! GENERAL Mein Führer, this is just soldiers’ gossip. No one really believes the Bear Jew is a golem. HITLER Why not? They seem to be able to elude capture like an apparition. They seem to be able to appear and disappear at will. HITLER (CON’T) You want to prove they’re flesh and blood? Then BRING THEM TO ME! I will hang them naked, by their heels, from the Eiffel Tower! And then throw their bodies in the sewers, for the rats of Paris to feast! The Führer sits down at the table to compose himself and wipe his greasy black hair out of his face. HITLER (disgusted) The Bear Jew. He hits the button on the intercom on his desk. HITLER Kliest! KLIEST’S VOICE comes out of the intercom: KLIEST’S VOICE (OS) Yes, mein Führer. HITLER I have an order I want relayed to all German soldiers stationed in France. The Jew degenerate known as the Bear Jew henceforth is never to be referred to as the Bear Jew again. We will cease to aid the Americans any longer in their attempt to undermine the German soldier’s psyche. Did you get that, Kliest? KLIEST’S VOICE (OS) Yes, mein Führer. Do you still wish to see Private Butz? HITLER Who and what is a private Butz? KLEIST’S VOICE (OS) He’s the soldier you wanted to see personally. His squad was ambushed by Lt. Raine’s Jews. He was its only survivor. HITLER Indeed I do want to see him. Thank you for reminding me. Send him in. CUT TO EXT—FRENCH WOODS—DAY CU FACE OF DEAD GERMAN SOLDIER His head lies on the ground, horizontal. A HAND reaches into the FRAME, KNOCKS aside the dead German patriot’s helmet, and grabs a handful of the cadaver’s blond hair. A LARGE KNIFE ENTERS THE FRAME and begins SLICING ALONG THE HAIRLINE. This process is called SCALPING . After SLICING is complete, the SCALP easily peels off, like a banana skin. GERMAN PRISONERS PVT. BUTZ AND SGT. RACHTMAN on their knees, hand behind their heads. Pvt. Butz NARRATES the scene in GERMAN SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH: PVT. BUTZ (VO) Werner and I were the only ones left alive after the ambush. While one man guarded us, the rest removed the hair. All the Basterds wore German scalps tied to their belts. CU SCALPS hanging from belts. PVT. BUTZ (VO) They not only took valuables . . . WE SEE QUICK CUTS OF rings, weapons, an iron cross, and somebody digging out a gold tooth with a knife, being removed from dead Germans. PVT. BUTZ (VO) . . . They also took their identification papers . . . CU IDENTIFICATION PAPERS taken from the inside pocket of a dead German’s uniform. BASTERD PFC. UTIVICH flips through the I.D. papers till he gets to the page that contains the German soldier’s name, statistics, and photo. PFC. UTIVICH Sigfried Muller. PVT. BUTZ (VO) . . . They then removed their boots . . . CU GERMAN COMBAT BOOTS laces untied . . . boots pulled off . . . SOCKS removed, revealing dead bare feet . . . BASTERDS tossing the boots off a hill. PVT. BUTZ (VO) Throwing them away from the bodies . . . DEAD GERMANS scalps removed from their heads, pink bare feet . . . PVT. BUTZ (VO) The Basterds took their lives, their hair, their valuables, their identity, and finally their dignity in death. True that. The sight of the dead soldiers with bare feet does rob the tableau of a certain dignity that is normally felt in battlefield shots. BACK TO HITLER The dogs! HITLER He fights his frustration, then . . . HITLER Continue. BACK TO THE BASTERDS Aldo screams to the Basterd who’s guarding the two German prisoners. LT. ALDO Hey, Hirschberg, send that kraut sarge over. BASTERD PFC. HIRSCHBERG KICKS Sgt. Rachtman in the back. PFC. HIRSCHBERG You! Go! Sgt. Rachtman is a little slow to respond. So Hirschberg grabs him by the hair, YANKS him to his feet, and KICKS him in the ass, sending him on his way. Most of the Basterds sit in a circle, Indian style, with Aldo in the middle. As Sgt. Rachtman walks toward this circle of Basterds, An OFFSCREEN LITERARY NARRATOR (not Pvt. Butz) speaks over the SOUNDTRACK in ENGLISH: NARRATOR (VO) Sergeant Werner Rachtman has seen many interrogations since Germany decided it should rule Europe. But this is the first time he’s ever been on the wrong end of the exchange. It’s always been his belief that only a weakling in mind, body, and spirit complies with the enemy under threat of consequence. As Werner watched men cry like women, pleadingly offer their knowledge, in exchange for their worthless lives, he made a vow to himself. If his role is to die in this conflict, when they put him under the earth, his dignity would be buried with him. For in the other world, the gods only respect the ones they test first. Well, Sergeant, this is your test. And the gods are watching. The captured German sergeant enters the circle of Basterds, stands straight before the sitting southern lieutenant, and salutes his captor. SGT. RACHTMAN (ENGLISH) Sgt. Werner Rachtman. Aldo returns the salute, looking at up him. LT. ALDO Lt. Aldo Raine. Pleased to meet cha. You know what sit down means, Werner? SGT. RACHTMAN Yes. Then sit down. LT. ALDO The German sergeant does. LT. ALDO How’s your English, Werner? Cause if need be, we gotta couple fellas can translate. Aldo points at one of the Basterds in the circle, CPL. WILHELM WICKI. LT. ALDO Wicki there, an Austrian Jew, got the fuck outta Salzberg while the gettin’ was good. Became American, got drafted, and came back to give y’all what for. Then Aldo points to another Basterd. A big, scary-looking Basterd, in a German sergeant’s uniform, named SGT. HUGO STIGLITZ. LT. ALDO And another one over there you might be familiar with, Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz. Heard of ’em? The two German sergeants look at each other. SGT. RACHTMAN Everybody in the German army’s heard of Hugo Stiglitz. The Basterds laugh, and a couple pat Hugo on the back. The NARRATOR comes back on the SOUNDTRACK. NARRATOR (VO) The reason for Hugo Stiglitz’s celebrity among German soldiers is simple. and WE SEE A PHOTO OF HUGO on the front page of the Nazi version of Stars Stripes (the military newspaper). NARRATOR (VO) As a German enlisted man, he killed thirteen Gestapo officers, mostly majors. WE SEE THE MILITARY PHOTOS OF ALL THIRTEEN GESTAPO OFFICERS. NARRATOR (VO) Instead of putting him up against a wall, the High Command decided to send him back to Berlin, to be made an example of. Hugo in chains, being put in a lone troop truck, part of a prison convoy, en route to Berlin. NARRATOR (VO) Needless to say, once the Basterds heard about him, he never got there. EXT—FRENCH COUNTRYSIDE—DAY The Basterds AMBUSH the prison convoy, killing everybody. They walk to the back of the troop truck. Inside, Hugo, in chains, stares back at them. LT. ALDO Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz? Hugo nods. LT. ALDO I’m Lt. Aldo Raine, and these are the Basterds. Ever heard of us? Hugo nods his head, yes. LT. ALDO We just wanna say, we’re a big fan of your work. When it comes to killin’ Nazis, I think you show great talent, and I pride myself on havin’ an eye for that kind of talent. But your status as a Nazi killer is still amateur. We all came here to see if you wanna go pro? BACK TO THE BASTERD CIRCLE. LT. ALDO Now Werner, I’m gonna assume you know who we are? SGT. RACHTMAN Aldo the Apache. The circle of Basterds giggle. LT. ADLO Well, Werner, if you heard of us, you probably heard we ain’t in the prisoner-takin’ business. We in the killin’ Nazi business. And cousin, business is boomin’. The Basterds laugh. LT. ALDO Now that leaves two ways we can play this out. Either kill ya or let ya go. Now whether or not you gonna leave this circle alive depends entirely on you. Aldo takes out a map of the area and lays it out in front of his prisoner. LT. ALDO Up the road a piece, there’s a orchard. ’Sides you, we know there’s another kraut patrol fuckin’ around here somewhere. Now if that patrol were to have any crack shots, that orchard would be a goddamn sniper’s delight. Now if you ever wanna eat a sauerkraut sandwich again, you gotta show me on this map where they are, you gotta tell me how many they are, and you gotta tell me what kinda artillery they carrying with ’em. SGT. RACHTMAN You can’t expect me to divulge information that would put German lives in danger. LT. ALDO Well, Werner, that’s where you’re wrong. Because that’s exactly what I expect. I need to know about Germans hidin’ in trees. And you need to tell me. And you need to tell me, right now. Now take your finger and point out on this map where this party’s bein’ held, how many’s comin’, and what they brought to play with. Werner sits, head held high, back straight, chin up, every inch the German hero facing death. SGT. WERNER I respectfully refuse, sir. Aldo jerks his thumb behind him. LT. ALDO You see that ole boy battin’ rocks? WE RACK-FOCUS to one of the Basterds not in the circle. He’s wearing a wife beater and power-hitting stones with a baseball bat. Werner’s eyes go to the ballplayer. LT. ALDO That’s Sgt. Donny Donowitz. But you might know him better by his nickname, the Bear Jew. Now if you heard of Aldo the Apache, you gotta heard about the Bear Jew? SGT. RACHTMAN I heard. What did you hear? LT. ALDO SGT. RACHTMAN He beats German soldiers with a club. LT. ALDO He bashes their brains in with a baseball bat, what he does. SGT. DONOWITZ back to us, still haven’t seen his face. He Babe Ruths a rock soaring into the atmosphere. LT. ALDO Now, Werner, I’m gonna ask you one last goddamn time, and if you still “respectfully refuse,” I’m calling the Bear Jew over here, and he’s gonna take that big bat of his, and he’s gonna beat your ass to death with it. Now take your Wiener-schnitzel-lickin’ finger and point out on this map what I want to know. SGT. RACHTMAN Fuck you and your Jew dogs. Instead of getting mad, the Basterds burst out LAUGHING. Also says to Werner, with a giggle in his voice: LT. ALDO Actually, Werner, we’re all tickled ya said that. Frankly, watchin’ Donny beat Nazis to death is the closest we ever get to goin’ to the movies. (YELLING) DONNY! SGT. DONOWITZ He turns to the CAMERA and yells: SGT. DONOWITZ Yeah? LT. ALDO Got a German here wants to die for his country. Oblige him. SGT. DONNY DONOWITZ bat over his shoulder, smiles. INT—BARBER SHOP (BOSTON)—DAY Donny, cutting heads, in his pop’s barber shop, in Boston. DONNY . . . ya got the goddamn, fuckin’ Germans, declaring open season on Jews in Europe, and I’m suppose to fly to the fuckin’ Philippines and fight a bunch of fuckin’ Japs—not me, pal. If we just go in this against the Japs, the whole U.S. of fuckin A can go take a running jump at the moon. HEAD You know, they got a word for what you’re sayin’ Donny. It’s called treason. DONNY Hey, stick your treason up your poop hole. If I’m gonna kill my fellow man in the name of liberty, that fellow man will be German. CUT TO INT—SPORTING GOODS STORE—DAY MR. GOOROWITZ’S sporting goods shop in Donny’s Jewish Boston neighborhood. Donny walks in. MR. GOOROWITZ Hello, Donny. How are you? DONNY Ah, just dandy, Mr. Goorowitz. MR. GOOROWITZ Your mother, your father—everything good there? DONNY They’re just fine. I’m shippin’ off next week. The store proprietor extends his hand to the young man. MR. GOOROWITZ Good for you, son. Kill one of those Nazi basterds for me, will ya? DONNY That the idea, Mr. Goorowitz. MR. GOOROWITZ What can I do you for, Donny? DONNY I need a baseball bat. The store owner leads him to a basket with eight bats in it. Donny starts going through them without saying anything. Mr. Goorowitz watches. MR. GOOROWITZ You gettin’ your little brother a present before you ship out? Donny, concentrating on the bats, not looking up: DONNY No. Donny’s “no” silences the gabby Goorowitz. He seems to settle on one, feeling its weight in his hands. DONNY Can I try this one on for size, outside? Extending his arm: MR. GOOROWITZ Be my guest. The phone rings. MR. GOOROWITZ I’ll get that. You go right ahead. The proprietor answers the phone and gets into a conversation with his OFFSCREEN mother. Donny walks outside. WE STAY IN STORE but can see him clearly through the store’s big picture window. However, Mr. Goorowitz instinctively turns his back to Donny to speak with his mother. Donny starts swinging the bat. It’s pretty obvious he’s pantomiming beating somebody to death with it. Then he starts yelling: DONNY Take that, ya Nazi basterd! You like fuckin’ with the Jews? Wanna fuck with the Jews? The American Jews are gonna FUCK with you . . . ! Mr. Goorowitz sees none of this as he speaks to his mother. He hangs up the phone just as Donny walks back into the store. The store owner turns to the store customer. DONNY Is this the heaviest ya got? INT—HALLWAY APARTMENT BUILDING—DAY CUT TO Donny, dressed nice, in an apartment building in his Jewish Boston neighbourhood. He knocks on a door. A VERY OLD JEWISH WOMAN opens the door, only a little, peering out at the young man. OLD WOMAN How can I help you? Mrs. Himmelstein? DONNY MRS. HIMMELSTEIN State your business, young man. DONNY Mrs. Himmelstein, I’m Donny Donowitz. My father, Sy Donowitz, owns the barber shop on Greeny Ave. Sy’s Barber Shop. MRS. HIMMELSTEIN I’ve seen it. Do you live in the neighborhood? DONNY All my life. MRS. HIMMELSTEIN Again, state your business? DONNY May I have a word with you? MRS. HIMMELSTEIN What about? Our people in Europe. DONNY She thinks for a beat, then holds the door open for the young man. MRS. HIMMELSTEIN Come in. Would you like some tea? INT—MRS. HIMMELSTEIN’S APARTMENT—DAY Donny sits on an overstuffed sofa, holding a tea cup and saucer in his hand. Mrs. Himmelstein sits on an overstuffed chair, holding her tea, looking across at her visitor. DONNY (sipping tea) Very good. MRS. HIMMSELSTEIN If you like tea. Donny chuckles at her little joke. The old woman remains stone. She wasn’t joking. He places his saucer on the coffee table and begins: DONNY Mrs. Himmelstein, do you have any loved ones over in Europe who you’re concerned for? MRS. HIMMELSTEIN What compels you, young man, to ask a stranger such a personal question? DONNY Because I’m going to Europe. And I’m gonna make it right. MRS. HIMMELSTEIN And just how do intend to do that, Joshua? He holds up his bat. With this. DONNY MRS. HIMMELSTEIN And what exactly do you intend to do with that toy? DONNY I’m gonna beat every Nazi I find to death with it. She takes another sip of tea. MRS. HIMMELSTEIN I thought we were having tea together. Donny picks up his cup and takes a sip. MRS. HIMMELSTEIN And in this pursuit, how is it that I service? DONNY can be of I’m going through the neighborhood. If you have any loved ones in Europe whose safety you fear for, I’d like you to write their name on my bat. BACK TO BASTERDS Donna takes a long walk to Werner . . . PVT. BUTZ watches all this . . . As WE CUT BACK and FORTH BETWEEN DONNY WALKING and WERNER WAITING, WE ALSO CUT BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN DONNY and MRS. HIMMELSTEIN . . . MRS. HIMMELSTEIN You must be a real basterd, Donny. DONNY You bet your sweet ass I am. MRS. HIMMELSTEIN Hand me your sword, Gideon. I do believe I will join you on this journey. She signs the BAT: “MADELEINE.” Donny steps up to the plate, looking down at the Nazi: He sees the Iron Cross hanging from the German Sgt’s right pocket. The Jew taps the German’s medal with the end of his bat. DONNY You get that for killing jews? SGT RACHTMAN Bravery. Donny gives him a “oh yeah, we’ll see about that,” look. The Bear Jew raises the bat up high over his shoulder and brings it down hard against the side of Rachtman’s head. Donny BEATS Werner TO DEATH WITH THE BAT, to the cheers of the Basterds. PVT. BUTZ watches. Hirschberg says to him: PFC. HIRSCHBERG About now, I’d be shittin’ my pants, if I was you. Aldo points a finger at Butzs and crooks it toward him. A crying, visibly shaken Butz sits down in front of Aldo. LT. ALDO You wanna live? Yes, sir. PVT. BUTZ LT. ALDO Point out on this map the German position. His arm shoots out like a rocket and points out the positions. PVT. BUTZ This area here. How many? Maybe twelve. LT. ALDO PVT. BUTZ LT. ALDO What kind of artillery? PVT BUTZ They have a machine gun dug in here pointing north. BACK TO HITLER HITLER How did you survive this ordeal? WE SEE Pvt. Butz in the Führer’s room for the first time. He wears a Nazi cap, which is unusual in the presence of the Führer, but he seems okay with it. PVT. BUTZ They let me go. FROM HERE ON WE GO BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN ALDO AND HITLER. LT. ALDO Now, when you report what happened here, you can’t tell ’em you told us what you told us. They’ll shoot ya. But they’re gonna wanna know, why you so special, we let you live? So tell ’em we let ya live so you could spread the word through the ranks what’s gonna happen to every Nazi we find. HITLER You are not to tell anybody anything! Not one word of detail! Your outfit was ambushed, and you got away. Not one more word. PVT. BUTZ Yes, mein Führer. Pause. HITLER Did they mark you like they did the other survivors? PVT. BUTZ Yes, mein Führer. HITLER Remove your hat and show me. LT. ALDO Now say we let ya go, and say you survive the war? When you get back home, what ’cha gonna do? PVT. BUTZ I will hug my mother like I’ve never hugged her before. LT. ALDO Well, ain’t that a real nice boy. Are you going to take off your uniform? PVT. BUTZ Not only shall I remove it, but I intend to burn it! The young German is telling Aldo what he thinks Aldo wants to hear. But the last answer didn’t go down as well as he thought it would, as is evident by the frown on Aldo’s face. LT. ALDO Yeah, that’s what we thought. We don’t like that. You see, we like our Nazis in uniforms. That way, you can spot ’em just like that. (snaps his fingers) But you take off that uniform, ain’t nobody gonna know you was a Nazi. And that don’t sit well with us. Aldo removes a LARGE KNIFE from a sheath on his belt. LT. ALDO So I’m gonna give ya a little somethin’ you can’t take off. BACK TO HITLER Pvt. Butz removes his combat helmet. Hair hangs in his face. He moves it aside, and WE SEE a SWASTIKA has been HAND- CARVED INTO HIS FOREHEAD. BACK TO BASTERDS BUTZ’S POV on ground, looking up at them. Aldo has just carved the swastika, and he’s holding the bloody knife. All the Basterds crowd around to admire his handiwork. SGT. DONOWITZ You know, Lieutenant, you’re getting pretty good at that. LT. ALDO You know how you get to Carnegie Hall, don’t cha? Practice. OVER BLACK CHAPTER TITLE APPEARS: INT—CINEMA AUDITORIUM—NIGHT CHAPTER THREE “GERMAN NIGHT IN PARIS” FADE TO BLACK We’re in the auditorium of a cinema in Paris. However, the CAMERA is pointed in the direction of the audience, not the screen. We start CLOSE on the projector beam emanating from the little glass window in the back of the theater. The CAMERA continues to DOLLY back, making the shot wider and wider, bringing in more and more the German-occupied citizens of Paris, who stare at the OFFSCREEN silver screen in the dark. We can hear the OFFSCREEN SOUNDTRACK of a Goebbels-produced German omm-pa-pa musical movie being projected. The shot continues to pull farther and farther back, and the German dialogue continues to fill the auditorium . . . UNTIL . . . The DOLY SHOT LANDS on a CLOSEUP of Shosanna, watching the movie. A SUBTITLE APPEARS: “SHOSANNA DREYFUS TWO WEEKS AFTER THE MASSACRE OF SHOSANNA’S FAMILY” We hear the sound of the German musical’s climax. The lights go up in the auditorium. Shosanna, dressed in a NURSE’S UNIFORM she swiped from somewhere, remains seated, as the rest of the PATRONS gather their coats and file out. EXT—LITTLE CINEMA (PARIS)—NIGHT Patrons exit under the cinema marquee, as someone from inside SHUTS OFF the marquee’s lights. The MARQUEE READS in French: “GERMAN NIGHT BRIDGET VON HAMMERSMARK in MADCAP IN MEXICO.” EXT—PROJECTION BOOTH (LITTLE CINEMA) A French black man, who we will learn later is named MARCEL, is the cinema’s projectionist. We see him for a moment, taking the film reels off the projector and placing them on rewinds. INT—AUDITORIUM CU SHOSANNA Still sitting in her seat. Except for her, the auditorium is empty. The owner of the cinema, an attractive-looking French woman, who we will later know as MADAME MIMIEUX, appears in one of the cinema’s opera-box balconies. Looking down from her porch at the young girl, sitting in the empty cinema. The DIALOGUE will be spoken in FRENCH and SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH. MADAME MIMIEUX So, young woman, since it’s beyond obvious we’re closed for the evening, I must assume you want something. What can I do for you? SHOSANNA May I sleep here tonight? MADAME MIMIEUX So I gather you’re not a nurse? SHOSANNA No. MADAME MIMIEUX But you’re a bright little thing. That’s a clever disguise. Where is your family? SHOSANNA Murdered. MADAME MIMIEUX So you’re a war orphan? SHOSANNA We were from Nancy. The Boches found us— MADAME MIMIEUX —Is this a sad story? SHOSANNA. Oui. MADAME MIMIEUX Sad stories bore me. These days everyone in Paris has one. I haven’t bored you with mine. Don’t bore me with yours. SHOSANNA You can run the machines? MADAME MIMIEUX What machines? Using her hands to pantomime the rotating film reels on a projector, she says: SHOSANNA The machines that show the film. MADAME MIMIEUX The projectors? Yes, I own a cinema. Of course I can operate them. SHOSANNA I know, I saw you. FLASH ON: CU SHOSANNA eyes creeping up the stairway in the projection booth, watching . . . MADAME MIMIEUX expertly working the projectors . . . BACK TO SHOSANNA SHOSANNA Teach me. Teach me to run the machines that show the film. It’s only you and the negro. I know you could use some help. MADAME MIMIEUX I know at least six people who’ve been put up against a wall and machine- gunned for sheltering enemies of the state. I have no intention of being unlucky number seven. How long have you been in Paris? SHOSANNA A week and a few days. MADAME MIMIEUX How have you survived the curfew without capture? SHOSANNA I sleep on rooftops. MADAME MIMIEUX Again, I’m forced to admit, clever girl. How is it? SHOSANNA Cold. I can imagine. MADAME MIMIEUX (laughs) SHOSANNA Respectfully, no you can’t. Pause. Thinks . . . MADAME MIMIEUX Fair enough. MADAME MIMIEUX So you can’t operate a 35mm film projector. You want me to teach you, in order to work here, in order to use my cinema as a hole to hide in. Is that correct? SHOSANNA Oui. What’s your name? Shosanna. MADAME MIMIEUX SHOSANNA MADAME MIMIEUX I’m Madame Mimieux. You may call me Madame. This is a cinema. Not a home for wayward war orphans. Having said that, what you say is true. If you were truly exceptional, I could find use for you. So, Shosanna, are you truly exceptional? SHOSANNA Oui, Madame. MADAME MIMIEUX I will be the judge of that. TITLE CARD: Which shows a lovely PENCIL SKETCH of the CITY OF PARIS, complete with Eiffel Tower. ABOVE IT READS: THEN . . . “1944 PARIS” DISSOLVE TO The CAMERA PULLS BACK, and we see we’re not looking at a TITLE CARD at all, but a CALENDER stuck on the wall of the little cinema’s projection booth. Before we leave it, WE SEE the month is JUNE . . . The CAMERA finds the THREE-YEARS-OLDER SHOSANNA working as the PROJECTIONIST. It would appear that Shosanna passed Madame Mimieux’s exceptional test. A lyrical, Morricone-like tune PLAYS on the SOUNDTRACK. This will be “Shosanna’s Theme.” A little bell begins RINGING on one of the projectors, alerting Shosanna its time for a REEL CHANGE. Shosanna stands at the projector, watching the old German film she’s projecting, waiting for the FIRST REEL CHANGE MARK . . . SILVER SCREEN of the little cinema. Onscreen LENI RIEFENSTAHL lies horizontal as an icicle drips on her head in the old German film “The White Hell of Pitz Palu.” The FIRST REEL CHANGE MARK POPS ON in the upper-right- hand corner of the FRAME (that tells the projectionist to get ready). As the FILM REEL on the FIRST PROJECTOR rolls out, Shosanna stands ready, waiting by the SECOND PROJECTOR . . . WHEN . . . SILVER SCREEN the SECOND REEL CHANGE MARK POPS ON in the same place (that’s the one). SHOSANNA THROWS the lever on the SECOND PROJECTOR, switching the film from projector 1 to projector 2, executing a perfect REEL CHANGE. As “Shosanna’s Theme” plays on the soundtrack, we watch, via MONTAGE, her go through her daily chores: carry heavy film cans up the stairs, empty the rat traps, etc, etc. . . . EXT—CINEMA—NIGHT The MARQUEE READS in French: “GERMAN NIGHT LENI RIEFENSTAHL in PABST’S WHITE HELL OF PITZ PALU” Shosanna emerges from the cinema carrying two buckets of LETTERS (for the marquee) and a tall ladder. Her chore here, obviously, is to change the show on the marquee. The LITERARY NARRATOR comes on the soundtrack in ENGLISH: NARRATOR (VO) To operate a cinema in Paris during the occupation, one had two choices. Either you could show new German propaganda films, produced under the watchful eye of Joseph Goebbels. Or . . . you could have a German night in your weekly schedule and show allowed German classic films. Their German night was Thursday. Shosanna, by herself, perched up high on the ladder, changing the letters on the marquee. A YOUNG GERMAN SOLDIER (about the same age as Shosanna) walks out of the cinema. He sees the ladder with the young French girl on top and walks over. They speak FRENCH, SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH: GERMAN SOLDIER What starts tomorrow? Shosanna looks down, seeing the young German soldier smiling up at her from below. SHOSANNA A Max Linder festival. GERMAN SOLDIER Ummm, I always preferred Linder to Chaplin. Except Linder never made a film as good as “The Kid.” The chase climax of “The Kid,” superb. Shosanna continues working, not adding to the conversation. GERMAN SOLDIER I suppose now you could use an M, an A, and an X? SHOSANNA No need, I can manage. GERMAN SOLDIER Don’t be ridiculous. It’s my pleasure. He hands the French damsel the letters spelling MAX. SHOSANNA Merci. GERMAN SOLDIER I adore your cinema very much. SHOSANNA Merci. She busies herself with the marquee letters . . . GERMAN SOLDIER Is it yours? Do I own it? Oui. Oui. SHOSANNA GERMAN SOLDIER SHOSANNA GERMAN SOLDIER How does a young girl such as yourself own a cinema? Due to his uniform and Shosanna’s situation, his efforts at trying to make small talk strike the young Jewess in hiding as a Gestapo interrogation. SHOSANNA My aunt left it to me. GERMAN SOLDIER Lucky girl. Shosanna makes no reply back. GERMAN SOLDIER Merci for hosting a German night. SHOSANNA I don’t have a choice, but you’re welcome. GERMAN SOLDIER Do you choose the German films yourself? SHOSANNA Oui. GERMAN SOLDIER Then my merci stands. I love the Riefenstahl mountain films, especially “Pitz Palu.” It’s nice to see a French girl who’s an admirer of Riefenstahl. SHOSANNA “Admire” would not be the adjective I would use to describe my feelings toward Fräulein Riefenstahl. GERMAN SOLDIER But you do admire the director Pabst, don’t you? That’s why you included his name on the marquee. She climbs down from the ladder and faces the German private. SHOSANNA I’m French. We respect directors in our country. GERMAN SOLDIER Apparently even Germans. SHOSANNA Even Germans. Merci for your assistance, Private. Adieu. She turns to go back inside. GERMAN SOLDIER You’re not finished? SHOSANNA I’ll finish in the morning. She opens the door to go inside. GERMAN SOLDIER May I ask your name? SHOSANNA You wish to see my papers? She hands him her excellently forged papers. That’s obviously not what he meant, but he takes them anyway to read her name. COL. LANDA Emmanuelle Mimieux. That’s a very pretty name. SHOSANNA Merci. Are you finished with my papers? He hands them back. GERMAN SOLDIER Mademoiselle. My name is Frederick Zoller. She gives no response. GERMAN SOLDIER It’s been a pleasure chatting with a fellow cinema lover. Sweet dreams, Mademoiselle. He gives her a little salute and walks into the black of a curfew imposed night. She looks after him. She didn’t show it, but he kind of got to her. After all, for any true cinema lover, it’s hard to hate anybody who, CINEMA MON AMOUR. EXT—ROOFTOP CINEMA—NIGHT Shosanna stands on the roof her her cinema, late at night, lighting up a cigarette. As she takes her first big drag, she remembers a voice. FLASH ON MADAME MIMIEUX, the younger Shosanna, and the black projectionist, Marcel, in the projection booth. Shosanna lights up a cigarette, and Madame Mimieux SLAPS her face HARD, knocking the cigarette out of her mouth. Marcel quickly STAMPS it out on the floor. MADAME MIMIEUX If I ever see you light up a cigarette in my cinema again, I’ll turn you in to the Nazis, do you understand? Shosanna is shocked by this statement. SHOSANNA Oui, Madame. MADAME MIMIEUX And for bringing an open flame into my cinema, you deserve far worse than a Nazi Jewish boxcar. With your thick head, what do you think the highest priority of a cinema manager is? Keeping this fucking place from burning down to the ground, that’s what! In my collection, I have over three hundred and fifty 35mm, nitrate film prints, which are not only immensely flammable but highy unstable. And should they catch fire, they burn three times faster than paper. If that happens . . . POOF . . . all gone, cinema no more, everybody burned alive. If I ever see you with an open flame in my cinema again, I won’t turn you into the Nazis. I’ll kill you myself. And the fucking Germans will give me a curfew pass. Do you understand me? SHOSANNA Oui, Madame. MADAME MIMIEUX Do you believe me? Oui, Madame. SHOSANNA MADAME MIMIEUX You damn well better. BACK TO ROOF Shosanna exhales cigarette smoke. Marcel comes onto the roof. Are you well? MARCEL SHOSANNA Even on the roof I can’t smoke a cigarette without hearing Madame’s voice yelling at me. That’s why I do it. To hear Madame’s voice again. MARCEL We both miss her. SHOSANNA I know. I’m fine, darling. I’ll be to bed soon. Marcel goes back inside. Shosanna smokes. INT—FRENCH BISTRO—AFTERNOON Shosanna sits in the back of a French bistro, reading a book, “The Saint in New York,” by Leslie Charteris, drinking wine when the young German soldier from the other day, FREDRICK ZOLLER, walks in. He gets a beer, then notices the French girl sitting in the back. He smiles and heads over to her. “Oh no, not this guy again,” she thinks. Again they speak in FRENCH SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH: FREDRICK May I join you? Look, Fredrick— SHOSANNA FREDRICK (smiling) —You remember my name? SHOSANNA Yes . . . Look, you seem a pleasant enough fellow— FREDRICK —Merci. SHOSANNA You’re welcome. Regardless, I want you to stop pestering me. FREDRICK I apologize, Mademoiselle. I wasn’t trying to be a pest. I was simply trying to be friendly. SHOSANNA I don’t wish to be your friend. FREDRICK Why not? SHOSANNA Don’t act like an infant. You know why. FREDRICK I’m more than just a uniform. SHOSANNA Not to me. If you are so desperate for a French girlfriend, I suggest you try Vichy. Just then TWO OTHER GERMAN SOLDIERS come over, obviously very impressed with Fredrick. They make a fuss over him in UNSUBTITLED GERMAN, which neither Shosanna or the non-German speaking members of the movie’s audience can understand. He signs autographs for them and shakes their hands, and they go on their way. Shosanna’s eyes narrow. Who are you? SHOSANNA FREDRICK I thought I was just a uniform. SHOSANNA You’re not just a German soldier. Are you somebody’s son? FREDRICK Most German soldiers are somebody’s son. SHOSANNA Yeah, but you’re not just somebody. What are you, Hitler’s nephew? He leans in across the table. She leans in too, and he says: FREDRICK Yes. Really? SHOSANNA FREDRICK No, not really. I’m just teasing you. She leans back, annoyed. SHOSANNA Then what is it? What are you, a German movie star? FREDRICK Not exactly. SHOSANNA (Pfuit) What does that mean, “not exactly”? I asked if you were a movie star. The answer to that question is yes or no. Fredrick laughs at that line. FREDRICK When you said that just now, you reminded me of my sister. This catches young Shosanna off guard. FREDRICK I come from a home of six sisters. We run a family-operated cinema in Munich. Seeing you run around your cinema reminds me of them. Especially my sister Helga. She raised me, when our father wasn’t up to the job. I admire her very much. You’d like her. She doesn’t wear a German uniform. SHOSANNA You were raised by Helga? FREDRICK All my sisters. I’m the baby, but Helga was the bossiest. SHOSANNA And your mother and father? FREDRICK My mother died. And my father was a loser. My father’s motto: “If at first you don’t succeed, quit.” The day he left, good riddance. My sisters are all I need. It’s why I like your cinema. It makes me feel both closer to them and a little homesick at the same time. SHOSANNA Is your cinema still operating? FREDRICK Oui. What’s it called? SHOSANNA FREDRICK The Kino Haus. SHOSANNA How has it done during the war? FREDRICK Actually, in Germany, cinema attendance is up. SHOSANNA No doubt. You don’t have to operate under a curfew. FREDRICK How often do you fill your house? SHOSANNA (Pfuit) Not since before the war. FREDRICK So if you had one big engagement, that would help you out? SHOSANNA Of course, but that’s not likely to happen. TWO MORE GERMAN SOLDIERS and their TWO FRENCH DATES approach the table. They ask for Fredrick’s autograph, and he signs it for them. One of the French girls says, in FRENCH, how exciting it is to meet a real live German war hero. Shosanna hears it. They leave. So that’s it, she thinks. SHOSANNA So you’re a war hero? Why didn’t you tell me? FREDRICK Everybody knows that. I liked that you didn’t. SHOSANNA What did you do? He takes a sip of beer. FREDRICK I’ve shot the most enemy soldiers in World War Two . . . so far. You bet your sweet ass that got her attention. SHOSANNA Wow. FREDRICK I was alone in a bell tower in a walled-off city in Russia. It was myself and a thousand rounds of ammo in a bird’s nest, against three hundred Soviet soldiers. SHOSANNA What’s a bird’s nest? FREDRICK A bird’s nest is what a sniper would call a bell tower. It’s a high structure, offering a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view. Very advantageous for marksmen. SHOSANNA How many Russians did you kill? FREDRICK Sixty-eight. (beat) The first day. A hundred and fifty the second day. Thirty-two the third day. On the fourth day, they exited the city. Naturally my war story received a lot of attention in Germany. That’s why they all recognize me. They call me the German Sergeant York. SHOSANNA Maybe they’ll make a film about your exploits. FREDRICK Well, that’s just what Joseph Goebbels thought. So he did. It’s called “Nation’s Pride,” and guess what, they wanted me to play myself, so I did. They have posters for it in kiosks all over Paris. That’s another reason for all the attention. SHOSANNA “Nation’s Pride” is about you? “Nation’s Pride” is starring you? FREDRICK I know, comical, huh? SHOSANNA Not so comical. So what are you doing in Paris, enjoying a rest? FREDRICK Hardly. I’ve been doing publicity, having my pictures taken with different German luminaries, visiting troops, that sort of thing. Goebbels wants the film to premiere in Paris, so I’ve been helping them in the planning. Joseph is very keen on this film. He’s telling anybody who will listen that when “Nation’s Pride” is released I’ll be the German Van Johnson. Shosanna isn’t falling for the young German by any stretch. However, his exploits, as well as his charming manner, can’t help but impress. But his referring to Goebbels as “Joseph,” like they’re friends, is all she needs to get on the right side of things. This young man is trouble with a capital T, and she needs to stay far fucking away from him. She abruptly rises and says: SHOSANNA Well, good luck with your premiere, Private. I hope all goes well for Joseph and yourself. Au revoir. And with that, she disappears, leaving the perplexed private alone. EXT—CINEMA MARQUEE—DAY It’s the next day. Shosanna and Marcel are changing the letters on the marquee. Marcel excuses himself to visit the toilet. Shosanna is alone outside the little cinema, perched up on her ladder. WHEN . . . . . . A BLACK NAZI SEDAN pulls up in front of the little cinema. A GERMAN MAJOR in a black Gestapo uniform steps out of the back of the sedan. The DRIVER, a German private, steps out as well. Yelling to the young girl up high on the ladder: Both GERMAN and FRENCH will be SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH. GESTAPO MAJOR Mademoiselle Mimieux? SHOSANNA Oui? Telling his driver in German to ask her in French: GESTAPO MAJOR Ask her if this is her cinema. In French the driver asks Shosanna: DRIVER Is this your cinema? Oui. SHOSANNA GESTAPO MAJOR Tell her to come down. DRIVER Come down, please. She climbs down the ladder. The driver opens the back door of the sedan, indicating for her to get in. SHOSANNA I don’t understand. What have I done? DRIVER (to major) She wants to know what she’s done? GESTAPO MAJOR Who says she’s done anything? DRIVER Who says you’ve done anything? Then in her best imitation of Mademoiselle Mimeux’s arrogant manner. SHOSANNA Then I demand to know what this is about, and where do you propose to take me? The driver begins to translate when the Gestapo major holds up his hand, telling him not to bother. The major looks at the young French girl and tells her in German: GESTAPO MAJOR Get your ass in that car. No translation necessary. She climbs into the back of the car, followed by the Germans. The sedan takes off. INT—SEDAN (MOVING)—DAY The Nazi sedan drives through the early-afternoon Paris streets. WE HOLD SHOSANNA IN TIGHT CU the whole ride, never showing her Nazi oppressor sitting beside her. We just hold on her face trying not to reveal anything. The sedan stops. The car door opens, and the driver offers Shosanna his hand. EXT/INT—MAXIM’S (FAMOUS PARIS CAFÉ)—DAY She steps out of the car and is led into a Paris café by the Gestapo officer. It takes the young Jewess a moment or two before she realizes she’s not being led to a Gestapo interrogation room, a railroad car, or a concentration camp, but to lunch. The best table at Maxim’s. Three people, and two dogs, sit at it: Germany’s minister of propaganda and the number-two man in Hitler’s Third Reich, JOSEPH GOEBBELS; his female French translator (and mistress), FRANCESCA MONDINO; and young Private Zoller. TWO BLACK FRENCH POODLES belonging to Mademoiselle Mondino sit together in another chair at the table. We join the in mid-conversation: They all speak GERMAN, SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH; GOEBBELS —it’s only the offspring of slaves that allows America to be competitive athletically. American Olympic gold can be measured in Negro sweat. Shosanna is led through the French eatery by the Gestapo major. Private Zoller sees her and stands up, excuses himself, and greets her before she reaches the table. Fredrick says in French, SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH; FREDRICK Good you came. I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d accept my invitation. SHOSANNA Invitation? THEN . . . . . . Goebbels’s voice says OFFSCREEN: GOEBBELS (OS) Is that the young lady in question, Fredrick? Private Zoller turns in his direction, takes Shosanna by the arm, and leads her to him. FREDRICK Yes, it is, Herr Goebbels. Emmanuelle, there is somebody I want you to meet. Joseph Goebbels, remaining seated, looks up at the young French girl, scrutinizing her as he spoons crème brûlée into his mouth. The excited Fredrick introduces Shosanna to the propaganda minister formally. FREDRICK Emmanuelle Mimieux, I’d like to introduce you to the minister of propaganda, the leader of the entire German film industry, and now I’m an actor, my boss, Joseph Goebbels. Goebbels offers up his long, spiderlike fingers for Shosanna to shake. She does. GOEBBELS Your reputation precedes you, Fräulein Mimieux. He looks to Francesca to translate, but she’s just taken a big bite of tiramisu. They all laugh. Frederick jumps in . . . FREDRICK And normally, this is Herr Goebbels’s French interpreter, Mademoiselle Francesca Mondino. FRANCESCA looks up at Shosanna. NARRATOR’S VOICE comes on soundtrack: NARRATOR (VO) Francesca Mondino is much more than Goebbels’s French interpreter. She’s also Goebbels’s favorite French actress to appear in his films . . . . . FLASH ON FRENCH CLIP from one of Francesca’s B/W Goebbels produced productions. Francesca, dressed as a French peasant girl, with a YOUNG GERMAN (MOVIE) SOLDIER. She speaks in FRENCH, SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH: FRANCESCA/PEASANT GIRL I love you, I can’t help it. My country or my heart, which do I betray? A SUBTITLE APPEARS below naming the film’s title: “SENTIMENTAL COMBAT” (1943) FLASH ON Francesca and Goebbels having sex in her boudoir, on her red velvet bed. NARRATOR (VO) And Goebbels’s favorite French mistress, to act in his bed. WE SEE JUST A SUPER-QUICK SHOT OF Goebbels FUCKING Francesca DOGGY STYLE. FRANCESCA (animal-like) Do it! Do it! Fuck me—fill me! BACK TO FRANCESCA looking at Shosanna. Bonjour. Bonjour. FRANCESCA SHOSANNA FREDRICK And you’ve met the major. The Gestapo officer steps up and says to Fredrick in German: GESTAPO MAJOR Actually, I didn’t introduce myself. (to Shosanna) Major Dieter Hellstrom of the Gestapo, at your service, Mademoiselle. (he clicks his heels) Please allow me. Have a seat. The Gestapo officer pulls out a chair for the young lady to sit down. Shosanna takes the hot seat. Seated to her right is Pvt. Zoller. To her left are the two curly, pampered poodles. Major Hellstrom pours Shosanna a glass of red wine from a small carafe on the table. MAJOR HELLSTROM Try the wine, Mademoiselle. It’s quite good. Goebbels looks across the table at her. GOEBBELS Well, I must say, you’ve made quite an impression on our boy. Francesca interprets Goebbels’s German for Shosanna. GOEBBELS I must say, Fräulein, I should be rather annoyed with you. Francesca interprets . . . GOEBBELS I arrive in France, and I wish to have lunch with my star . . . Francesca interprets . . . GOEBBELS Little do I know he’s become the toast of Paris, and now he must find time for me. Francesca interprets . . . GOEBBELS People wait in line hours, days, to see me. For the Führer and Private Zoller, I wait. Francesca interprets . . . GOEBBELS So finally, I’m granted an audience with the young private, and he spends the entire lunch speaking of you and your cinema. Francesca interprets . . . GOEBBELS So Fräulein Mimieux, let’s get down to business. Private Zoller interrupts— FREDRICK Herr Goebbels, I haven’t informed her yet. GOEBBELS Unless the girl’s a simpleton, I’m sure she’s figured it out by now. After all, she does operate a cinema. Francesca, tell her. Francesca tells Shosanna in French: FRANCESCA What they’re trying to tell you, Emmanuelle, is Private Zoller has spent the last hour at lunch, trying to convince Monsieur Goebbels to abandon previous plans for Private Zoller’s film premiere and change the venue to your cinema. Zoller reacts. What? FRANCESCA (FRENCH to Zoller) FREDRICK I wanted to inform her. FRANCESCA Shit. I apologize, Private. Of course you did. GOEBBELS (GERMAN to Francesca) What’s the issue? FRANCESCA The young soldier wanted to inform the mademoiselle himself. GOEBBELS Nonsense. Until I ask a few questions, he has nothing to inform. Let the record state, I have not agreed to a venue change. MAJOR HELLSTROM Duly noted. Goebbels speaks German to Shosanna: GOEBBELS You have opera boxes? SHOSANNA Oui. How many? Three. GOEBBELS SHOSANNA GOEBBELS More would be better. How many seats in your auditorium? SHOSANNA Three hundred and fifty. GOEBBELS That’s almost four hundred less than The Ritz. Fredrick jumps in . . . FREDRICK But Herr Goebbels, that’s not such a terrible thing. You said yourself you didn’t want to indulge every two-faced French bourgeois taking up space currying favor. With less seats it makes the event more exclusive. You’re not trying to fill the house, they’re fighting for seats. FREDRICK (CON’T) Besides, to hell with the French. This is a German night, a German event, a German celebration. This night is for you, me, the German military, the High Command, their family and friends. The only people who should be allowed in the room are people who will be moved by the exploits onscreen. Goebbels listens silently, then after a bit of a pause: GOEBBELS I see your public speaking has improved. It appears I’ve created a monster. A strangely persuasive monster. When the war’s over, politics awaits. Table chuckles. GOEBBELS Well, Private, though it is true I’m inclined to indulge you anything, I must watch a film in this young lady’s cinema before I can say yes or no. (to Shosanna) So, young lady, you are to close your cinema tonight and have a private screening for me. Francesca interprets . . . GOEBBELS What German films do you have? Francesca asks . . . SHOSANNA My cinema, on German night, tends to show older German classics. Francesca interprets . . . Why not my films? Francesca asks . . . ? GOEBBELS SHOSANNA I draw an older German audience in my cinema that appreciates the nostalgia of an earlier time. Francesca interprets . . . GOEBBELS That’s nonsense, Fräulein. We Germans are looking forward, not backward. That era of German cinema is dead. The German cinema I create will not only be the cinema of Europe, but the world’s only alternative to the degenerate Jewish influence of Hollywood. Fredrick jumps in . . . FREDRICK Along with being a cinema owner, Emmanuelle is quite a formidable film critic. He chuckles, but alone. GOEBBELS So it would appear. Unfortunately for the Fräulein, I’ve outlawed film criticism. Zoller, thinking fast, says: FREDRICK Why don’t you screen “Lucky Kids”? I’m sure Emmanuelle hasn’t seen it. And it’s so funny. I’ve been meaning to recommend it to her, for her German night. That’s a great idea. Let’s watch “Lucky Kids” tonight. GOEBBELS Ahhh, “Lucky Kids,” “Lucky Kids,” “Lucky Kids.” When all is said and done, my most purely enjoyable production. Not only that, I wouldn’t be surprised if sixty years from now, it’s “Lucky Kids” that I’m the most remembered for. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but mark my words. Very well, I’ll have a print sent over to the Fräulein’s cinema. We’ll screen “Lucky Kids” tonight. As Francesca interprets this for Shosanna . . . the empty chair next to the young Jewish girl is suddenly filled with the bottom half of a gray S.S. officer uniform. GOEBBELS Ah, Landa, you’re here. This is the young lady in question. The S.S. officer sits down, and it’s our old friend from the first scene, COL. HANS LANDA. FREDRICK Emmanuelle, this is Col. Hans Landa of the S.S. He’ll be running security for the premiere. CU SHOSANNA A bomb is dropped and detonated behind her eyes. But if she gives any indication of this, her war story ends here. The S.S. OFFICER who murered her family takes her hand and kisses it, saying in perfect French: COL. LANDA Charmed, Mademoiselle. MAJOR HELLSTROM Better known as “the Jew Hunter.” The table laughs. GOEBBELS Oh, Francesca, what was that funny thing the Führer said about Hans? FRANCESCA What thing? GOEBBELS You know, you were there. It was a funny thing the Führer said, about Hans . . . something about a pig? Francesca’s memory is jogged. Oh, yes, of course. FRANCESCA She repeats it by whispering it in Goebbels’s ear. GOEBBELS Oh, yes, of course, that’s it. So the Führer said he wouldn’t be surprised if Hans weren’t rooting out Jews like a truffle pig from the playpen. FRANCESCA That’s what we need, pigs that can root out Jews. COL. LANDA Who needs pigs when you have me? Big, hearty laugh around the table. GOEBBELS Do you have an engagement tonight? COL. LANDA Well, as a matter of fact, I do— GOEBBELS —Break it. We’re all going to the fräulein’s cinema tonight to view “Lucky Kids.” Splendid. COL. LANDA Then the Reich minister’s companion, Mademoiselle Mondino, interrupts: FRANCESCA And now I must get Reich Minister Goebbels to his next appointment. GOEBBELS Slave driver! French slave driver! They all chuckle. Everybody begins to stand up from the table . . . Francesca gathers the stupid dogs . . . As Col. Landa stands, he says: COL. LANDA Actually, in my role as security chief of this joyous German occasion, I’m afraid I must have a word with Mademoiselle Mimieux. Mademoiselle Mimieux’s eyes go to Private Zoller, who responds. FREDRICK What sort of discussion? COL. LANDA That sounded suspiciously like a soldier questioning the order of a colonel? Or am I just being sensitive? FREDRICK Nothing could be further from the truth, Colonel. Your authority is beyond question. But your reputation precedes you. Should Mademoiselle Mimieux or myself be concerned? GOEBBELS Hans, the boy means no harm, he’s simply smitten. And he’s correct. Your reputation does precede you. Laughter all around. The Reich minister and his Axis entourage make their way to front of the café, with the two dumb dogs on a leash, leading the way. COL. LANDA No need for concern, you two. As security chief, I simply need to have a chat with the possible new venue’s property owner. FREDRICK I was just hoping to escort Mademoiselle Mimieux back to her cinema. GOEBBELS Nonsense! You can eat ice cream and walk along the Seine another time. Right now, allow Col. Landa to do his job. Everybody says their farewells. Col. Landa offers the young Jew in hiding a seat at a small table in the outside patio area of Maxim’s. The fluency and poetic proficiency of the S.S. Jew hunter’s French reveals to the audience that his feigning clumsiness at French with Monsieur LaPadite in the film’s first scene was simply an interrogation technique. They speak FRENCH SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH: COL. LANDA Have you tried the strudel here?