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.
MADAME MIMIEUX
(laughs)
I can imagine.
SHOSANNA
Respectfully, no you can’t.
Pause.
MADAME MIMIEUX
Fair enough.
Thinks…
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.
MADAME MIMIEUX
What’s your name?
SHOSANNA
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.
DISSOLVE TO
TITLE CARD:
Which shows a lovely PENCIL SKETCH of the CITY OF PARIS, complete with Eiffel Tower.
ABOVE IT READS:
“1944 PARIS”
THEN…
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?
SHOSANNA
Do I own it?
GERMAN SOLDIER
Oui.
SHOSANNA
Oui.
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.
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?
SHOSANNA
Oui, Madame.
MADAME MIMIEUX
You damn well better.
BACK TO ROOF
Shosanna exhales cigarette smoke.
Marcel comes onto the roof.
MARCEL
Are you well?
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?
SHOSANNA
Look, Fredrick—
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.
SHOSANNA
Who are you?
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.
SHOSANNA
Really?
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.
SHOSANNA
What’s it called?
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
Inglourious Basterds Page 5
