Our German brothers-in-arms continue their victorious advance...
... into Western Europe.
Fuhrer and Chancellor of the Reich, Adolf Hitler has praised his troops.
And here's another man with reason to celebrate:
the composer of ''Gloomy Sunday'', a wildly successful recording.
But its magical tones have driven...
...157 people to suicide in the last 8 weeks, in Hungary alone.
The tune's gruesome march across Europe continues.
And the song has conquered the world.
New York's smart set has taken to driving their Studebakers...
...into the Hudson, with a portable phonograph on the front seat.
''Gloomy Sunday'' may be bringing death to many.
But it's brought wealth to one: its composer.
3 years later
Hans! Laszlo.
Here in Budapest!
It would be better if you called me 'Colonel' in public.
Pardon me, Colonel, sir.
Not when we're alone, of course. Colonel is for the others.
I have been looking forward to your beef roll.
Nobody in Germany makes them like you.
Sit down. I'll put the order in.
I know no one is allowed in your sacred kitchen,
but just once I must see how my beef roll is made.
I see the gigolo's still here.
Laszlo, what is it?
Good evening, Miss Ilona.
Good evening, Mr. Wieck. He's now called 'Colonel'.
You've changed, Colonel. You haven't, not a bit.
I've gotten married, by the way.
My wife, and my little daughter.
So sweet. Both of them.
You don't seem to have supply problems.
Are you in Budapest on business? You could say so.
Import-export?
I currently represent a somewhat larger organization.
Don't believe everything you hear about us. I'm with the 1st Cavalry.
We're horsemen, sports comrades, you know?
Things look different when you're high in the saddle.
The roulade.
Welcome back to Budapest, Hans.
One advantage of the delays in achieving final victory.
What about candles?
The candles have all been seized.
And what do the ones cost that were missed during the requisitioning?
Double the price.
I'm going to get flowers. Hopefully they haven't all been requisitioned.
You're composing again. What is that?
The lyrics for ''Gloomy Sunday''.
Still searching for the message?
''With a last breath I return to my home, safe in the land of the shadows I roam.''
Promise me that you won't do it.
Not so long as I have you.
I'll order for you, Lieutenant Colonel, sir.
Colonel.
We'll have two of the meat roll, and a bottle of good red.
After our meal, we'd like to hear the song, you know which one.
Professor, you're leaving already?
Yes, good night.
Is this a Jewish restaurant?
It's certainly a good one.
A death's-head on their caps, of all things.
With good reason. It means they're open for business.
Well, every business has some good apples and some bad apples.
The death's-head ecomes them both.
You should talk! You Christians with your cross:
an execution instrument, and a gruesome one!
Why are they whispering?
That one's a Jew, I can smell it.
Forget the Final Solution tonight.
Tonight's about beef roll, and nobody makes them like that man.
Thank you, no, I've had enough.
Good night.
Watch your step, Lieutenant Colonel...
Now that's a song with heart and soul!
Only the Germans have it, it comes from the north,
not creeping in from the south.
We Germans can abandon ourselves to life,
because we have heart and soul.
The Jew pig attacked me. Get a grip on yourself!.
I'll make mincemeat out of the filthy Jew!
I'll make mincemeat out of all Hungarian Jews.
With paprika sauce!
Take the Lt. Col. to the hotel.
Taxi!
I'm sorry, Laszlo. Eichbaum's obsessed.
I'm really sorry.
Thanks, Hans. Don't mention it.
Remember: 'an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth'.
Shouldn't I come along?
Hans, please, make sure Ilona gets home.
Let's go, drive!
Thank you for helping Laszlo.
Of course. That's what friends are for.
It's been a long time since we walked along here together.
And, have you created Germany's largest import-export company?
Not yet. You wouldn't listen back then.
I won't be able to do it until you've answered my prayers, you know that.
And your wife?
I thought German honor meant being faithful.
So much for the deaths-heads.
But you saw, there are good and bad. Maybe.
A drop of something medicinal would speed the healing.
Thank you for bringing me home.
Andras...
...she would have gone home with you today.
What I've told you is in strict confidence.
I'm doing it for Laszlo,
and for you.
Ilona,
I love my wife...
I would never... you know, with another woman.
But with you,
it's not another woman.
It's an angel.
I'm not quite sure, but I don't think angels do things like that.
Are you sure?
We heavenly ones tend to be rather conservative.
Is it very painful?
Not enough to make us close the restaurant.
I heard the Germans want to kill all the Jews in Hungary.
I've heard something like that, too.
But I know it, Laszlo.
For a fact. Hans told me.
My father was Jewish, and my mother. Which makes me a Jew.
But who thinks about it?
If my parents had been Iroquois, then I'd be an Iroquois.
And how do they plan to do it? There are over half a million of us in Hungary.
Our German brothers-in-arms will be thorough.
Their attitude is 'apres nous le deluge'.
Yes, and we know that, so we can say:
''Gentlemen, apres votre deluge, nous''.
For argument's sake, say I put the restaurant in your name.
You make me manager,
and apply for a permit which says I'm part of the war effort. Hans will help.
I'll transfer everything to your name, and then nobody can take it.
And after they've all conquered themselves to death,
we go to the notary and put it all back.
Exactly:
'after the Flood...
'Apres le deluge, nous'.
Good afternoon.
My name is Ilona Varnai. I have an appointment with Mr. Wieck.
The Colonel is in a meeting.
Please take a seat.
Excuse me, isn't this the Mendel villa?
It's now the center for property assessment.
We provide whatever the Reich needs.
Have you finished the last pages? Yes.
Miss Varnai! So nice of you to come visit me.
Good afternoon.
I'll be with you right away.
The most important thing now is to get your relatives out of the camps.
That wouldn't be necessary if you hadn't taken us to camps.
Cigarette?
By decree of the Reich, all Budapest Jews must be interned in labor camps.
But I can guarantee you and your family safe passage to a neutral country.
Your offer of 600,000 dollars is nothing.
The factories alone are worth at least 60 million.
I don't think that demand is in the best interests of your family.
I'm sorry, but I'll have call Lt. Col. Eichbaum and inform him...
...that we were unable to reach agreement. It's up to him from there.
Under these circumstances, 600,000 dollars is acceptable.
Let's sign it then.
I'm sorry you had to wait.
A glass of champagne? No, I have a favor to ask.
Anything for you. I made a very lucrative deal today.
Would you get us a permit? Won't you call me Hans?
Hans, could you get us a permit making Laszlo necessary to the war effort?
And what do I get in return?
A joke!
Of course you'll have the permit.
Come in.
Colonel, your urgent letter to the Reichsfuhrer SS.
Yes?
I typed it exactly as you wrote it. Good.
If I may call your attention to the fact that the Duden dictionary says...
...there is no hyphen in endorsement obligations.
Frau Haberle... Yes, Colonel, sir?
It is I, and not Duden, who will decide how and what you write.
Heil Hitler, Colonel.
Andras. What are you doing here?
And what about you?
You were inside for 57 minutes!
I guess two men isn't enough for you.
Is one Aryan better than two Hungarians?
Hans...
Colonel, sir.
I must thank you for all you've done.
Yes, yes, enough of that. We'd like the beef roll.
Our Magyar roulade is an outstanding dish.
But perhaps you should try something else.
For example, Istvan has outdone himself with a superb Danube catfish.
Very kind, but we'd like the beef roll.
Colonel, it pains me deeply, but with the shortages...
...I'm afraid roulade is unavailable today.
That's terrible - how will I look now?
Then bring us the best you have.
But no fish.
At your service.
And that's enough of ''at your service''! Not at your service, then.
Hans is acting strangely today.
Do you know who the other one is? I think it's Colonel Schnefke.
He does the same thing in Bohemia and Moravia that Hans does in Hungary.
They're colleagues, so to speak.
Eichbaum's only thinking about his Final Solution.
But why destroy what you can sell? He just doesn't understand.
So he can't find out about our little ''transactions''.
He won't. He has his hands full trying to win his war.
We can make our preparations for the future undisturbed.
But we must be careful not to stray too far outside the law.
Of course. But the beauty and vibrancy of the law lies...
...in its flexible boundaries.
To your health, Colonel.
Colonel, sir.
That's quite a woman. She certainly is.
We still have the transportation problem. I might just have an idea.
What's entering Germany in large quantity at the moment?
Coffins!
Our wives arrange good burial.
After all, dear cousin has given his life for Fatherland and Fuhrer.
May I get the gentlemen anything else?
Szabo, you tell a joke for a change.
Even a Jewish joke... we're very tolerant.
There was this commandant in a concentration camp, named Muller.
And he had a glass eye.
When the mood struck him, Commandant Muller would call over an inmate...
...to prove to him the quality of German craftsmanship:
If the prisoner could tell him which of his eyes was fake,
he was spared.
If the prisoner guessed wrong, he'd be shot.
One day, he stopped the inmate Jakob Korngold,
and put the test to him.
Jakob Korngold took a look at the commandant, and said:
'Why, my Commandant, the left one is the glass eye'.
'How did you figure it out so quickly?', the commandant asked.
Whereupon Jakob Korngold said:
'You see, my Commandant,
it's the one that favors me with a kindly look'.
Good joke, Szabo.
Very good joke.
And now, you, play the famous song for us!
The song, please.
Didn't you hear me?
What are you waiting for?
Watch what happens now.
Play.
Gloomy Sunday, not long until evening...
In dark shadows, my loneliness grieving.
Eyes closed, and before me you go,
But you sleep, and I wait for morrow.
Play it for me.
I see figures, and send you this plea:
Tell the angels to leave room for me.
Gloomy Sunday
So many Sundays, alone in the shadows,
I will go now with night, wherever it goes.
Eyes glisten as candles burn bright.
Weep not, friends, my burden is light.
With a last breath I return to my home,
safe in the land of the shadows I roam.
Gloomy Sunday.
He used my gun.
Ilona!
That wasn't what I wanted. I'm so sorry.
Is there anything I can do to help?
Yes, Hans, there is.
Can you get me papers to leave Hungary?
Of course.
But you don't have to leave.
I fear I do.
I'm finally coming to believe you Germans are in deadly earnest.
As long as I'm here, nothing will happen to you.
Don't worry.
But...
...we could save a few of your people.
My people? I mean Jews.
Of course, getting them out will cost...
jewelry, silver, gold. Even currency.
But only Swiss francs and Dollars. No penguis and NO Reichsmarks.
...to cover expenses.
I see.
We can keep people from going up a chimney.
Germans have such lovely expressions:
blitzkrieg, going up a chimney.
So vivid.
You picture someone being shoved in at the bottom...
...and floating out at the top, with wings on their back.
Is that supposed to be funny? Angels coming out the chimney?
What's happening here is hell!
You're right. And the devils are increasing in number every day.
$1000 per person is the minimum. That's really not much.
If a person is 27 when they leave the country, say, and lives to be 70...
Then they've had 43 years, or 516 months more of life.
So it works out to less than $2 a month for their lives.
Nothing really, when you consider what rent alone costs.
We can forget it.
Then it won't cost your friends anything, except their lives.
Bring anyone who's interested to my villa.
But not before 6 p.m. and not more than three at one time.
Make sure they cover up the yellow star.
And you don't need to worry.
Your name is at the very top of a list of people...
...who will not be subjected to special treatment unless I expressly approve it.
''Special treatment'', another one of those words.
I think I just understood the message of ''Gloomy Sunday''.
That Andras was always seeking?
I think the song says every person has his dignity.
We get hurt. We get insulted.
And we can stand it as long as we can hang on to a last shred of dignity.
But if one bucket of shit after another is dumped on your head...
...perhaps it's better to depart this world.
To leave...
...but with dignity.
Who says you have to go?
You can stay, and fight for happiness.
There are those who can.
Andras wasn't one of them.
Closed - in mourning
Mrs. Tajtelbaum.
I'm sorry, excuse me, Colonel.
Take them for a new start in Switzerland.
I'm so grateful to you.
Calm yourself. Perhaps you can return the favor someday.
I'd like to.
When times change, don't forget to mention who saved you.
I will. I won't forget.
Please forgive me,
but I have an uncle,
Professor Moishe Tajtelbaum. He was a member of the Jewish Council.
I'm sure he'd be just as grateful as I am.
Then send him to me. He was rounded up yesterday.
I'll see what I can do.
Radio London, Radio London.
German troops In Poland are withdrawing along the Vistula.
The Red Army is advancing toward Hungary.
Mr. Szabo!
A money order for you, Mr. Szabo, and for Miss Ilona.
Who would be sending us money? The Lindstroem Record Company.
There's also a letter.
''Dear Miss Varnai, dear Mr. Szabo,
our dear Mr. Andras Aradi...
...left instructions that, after his death, royalties from ''Gloomy Sunday''...
...be paid to you in equal shares.
Enclosed please find the current semi-annual statement.
Yours sincerely.''
I'm beginning to like it too much.
I want to take all my baths in your tub!
I better check whether they've delivered the potatoes.
Where does Laszlo Szabo live? Third floor.
Where is Laszlo Szabo?
He's not here. I don't know where he is.
Open up!
Laszlo Szabo?
Wait! It's a mistake!
I'm the owner here. He's my manager.
Mr. Szabo has a special permit, he's needed.
Not anymore.
Go!
Esteemed Lieutenant Colonel Eichbaum, dear comrade,
I hereby give approval for special treatment for the following persons:
Hochhauser, Aaron; Heinmann, Samuel;
Mosche, Rea; Friedlander, David...
Schweiger, Aviva; and Kaplan, Simon. Heil Hitler.
Strike Kaplan, he paid.
Should I re-type it? Yes.
Then perhaps... if you don't mind... What?
I know I'm supposed to type just what you wrote...
...but a few things disagree with the rules in the Duden grammar book.
Duden, Duden, Duden.
Forget the Duden! It will be our downfall!
Heil Hitler! Of course.
Wonderful. Germany must finally be Duden-free!
Duden-free and ''Juden''-free. No rules, no Jews. No Jews!
Hurry up.
Hans!
They've taken Laszlo! Just now. What's going on?
You have to help him! Calm down.
I'll help, don't worry, I'll help him. You must help him, for me.
Of course I'll help him.
Naturally I'll help. Anything for you.
It's alright.
Lieutenant Colonel, Sir. Colonel.
How are you? Fine, thank you. Have a seat.
I don't want to keep you. Has the Auschwitz transport left yet?
No, they're loading right now.
I need a special dispensation. Someone was put on the list by mistake.
Who is it?
That one, that one... Right away, sir.
Heil Hitler.
Tajtelbaum.
Professor Tajtelbaum? Come with me, hurry.
I'm risking my life getting you out.
I'll take us to safety.
Dear Ilona, I now hear clearly what ''Gloomy Sunday'' is saying:
I won't wait for the last bucket of shit.
I will do as Andras did.
I never really learned to fight, and anyway, it's too late.
Don't be sad that it didn't turn out as we'd hoped.
Hang on now: 'apres le deluge, tu!'
Grass is growing over you already.
You can't imagine how very much I miss you.
I miss you both so much.
Laszlo is dead, just like you. He doesn't even have a grave.
His friend Wieck sent him up the chimney.
He only saved those who could help him after the war.
He planned it well. He's a businessman.
Damn him to hell!
I have to go and set the tables.
I'm re-opening the restaurant today, so wish me luck.
Wish us luck. 'Apres le deluge, nous'.
Hans-Eberhard Wieck is dead.
The corporate executive died this evening in Budapest of heart failure.
All Germany mourns the passing of a great man.
During the second world war, he saved more than 1000 Budapest Jews.
After the war, he built Germany's largest import-export firm from scratch.
He wished to celebrate his 80th birthday here,
scene of such fond memories.
Thank you, Mr. Ambassador.
All the best to you on your birthday, Mama.
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