BRIDGET
So, Wilhelm, do you know the name of this progeny yet?
SGT. POLA NEGRI
I most certainly do, Fräulein. His name is Maximilian.
Even the slightly psychotic Stiglitz likes this German sergeant.
STIGLITZ
Wonderful name, Sergeant.
SGT. POLA NEGRI
Thank you, Lieutenant. When he’s old enough to ride a bicycle, I will buy him a blue one. And I will paint on the side “The Blue Max.”
He thrusts out his beer stein, for the officers to cheer.
They do.
Bridget finishes signing her autograph, with a big flourish.
BRIDGET
There you go. But wait, I’m not finished yet.
She reaches into her clutch and pulls out some lipstick, applies some ruby-red color to her lips, and then kisses the napkin, leaving a big red lip print. Then she hands the treasured item to the young officer.
BRIDGET
Nothing but the best for little Maximilian.
SGT. POLA NEGRI
Thank you, Fräulein, thank you. Max may not know who you are now. But he will. I will show him all of your movies. He will grow up with your films, and this napkin on his wall.
Then, to the whole tavern…
SGT. POLA NEGRI
I propose a toast to the greatest actress in Germany! There is no Dietrich, there is no Riefenstahl, only von Hammersmark!
The whole room toasts.
This would be a good time for the German sergeant to go back to his table and his men. And he almost does… but… since he is drunk, and star struck, he out wears his welcome.
SGT. POLA NEGRI
So, Fräulein von Hammersmark, what brings you to France?
Feeling any good Nazi officer’s patience would have been exhausted long ago, Lt. Hicox butts in.
LT. HICOX
None of your business, Sergeant. You might not have worn out your welcome with the fräulein with your drunken, boorish behavior, but you have worn out your welcome with me.
The table of game-playing soldiers hears this and gets quiet.
LT. HICOX
Might I remind you Sergeant, you’re an enlisted man. This is an officers’ table. I suggest you stop pestering the fräulein and rejoin your table.
The German master sergeant looks quizzically at the officer.
SGT. POLA NEGRI
Excuse me, Captain, but your accent is very unusual.
The whole room pauses… for different reasons…
SGT. POLA NEGRI
Where are you from?
A silent moment passes between the two tables, then the two German-born imposters spring into action.
WICKI
Sergeant! You must be either drunk or mad to speak to a superior officer with such impertinence!
Stiglitz, STANDS and YELLS to the other table:
STIGLITZ
I’m making YOU…
(pointing at Winnetou)
… and YOU…
(pointing at Edgar Wallace)
… responsible for him.
(pointing at Sgt. Pola)
I suggest you take hold of your friend, or he’ll spend Max’s first birthday in jail for public drunkenness!
The Germans SPRING UP and take hold of Sgt. Pola…
WHEN…
A GERMAN VOICE rings out:
GERMAN VOICE (OS)
Then might I inquire?
The five known Germans move aside, revealing the unknown German in the room, unseen till now, our old friend from before: MAJOR DIETER HELLSTROM of the GESTAPO. The major stands from the little table he was sitting at.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Like the young, newly christened father, I to have an acute ear for accents. And like him, I too find yours odd. From where do you hail, Captain?
Wicki jumps in:
WICKI
Major, this is highly inappr—
MAJOR HELLSTROM
—I wasn’t speaking to you, Lieutenant Saltzberg,
(turning to Stiglitz)
or you either, Lieutenant Berlin.
(looking at Hicox)
I was speaking to Captain I-don’t-know-what.
The Gestapo major is now standing beside Sgt. Pola, before the imposter’s table.
Lt. Hicox calmly explains his origin.
LT. HICOX
I was born in the village that rests in the shadow of Pitz Palu.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
The mountain?
LT. HICOX
Yes. In that village we all speak like this. Have you seen the Riefenstahl film?
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Yes.
LT. HICOX
Then you saw me. You remember the skiing torch scene?
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Yes, I do.
LT. HICOX
In that scene were myself, my father, my sister, and my two brothers. My brother is so handsome, the director, Pabst, gave him a closeup.
As Bridget von Hammersmark places a cigarette in an ivory cigarette holder—which Hicox, as if on cue, lights for her she says:
BRIDGET
Major, if my word means anything, I can vouch for everything the young captain has just said. He does hail from the bottom of Pitz Palu, he was in the film, and his brother is far more handsome than he.
The imposters laugh.
Then… so does the Gestapo major. He turns to the sergeant.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
You should rejoin your friends.
Which the young sergeant is more than happy to do. That table begins playing their game again.
Major Hellstrom, the highest-ranking officer in the room, bows graciously to the female German celebrity.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
May I join you?
BRIDGET
By all means, Major.
The Gestapo major sits at the table, opposite Lt. Hicox and Wicki. The French barmaid brings over the Major’s beer stein.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
So that’s the source of your bizarre accent? Extraordinary. So what are you doing here, Captain?
LT. HICOX
Aside from having a drink with the lovely fräulein?
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Well, that pleasure requires no explanation.
Chuckle… chuckle
MAJOR HELLSTROM
I mean in country. You’re obviously not stationed in France, or I’d know who you are.
LT. HICOX
You know every German in France?
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Worth knowing.
LT. HICOX
Well, therein lies the problem. We never claimed to be worth knowing.
Chuckle… chuckle.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
(chuckling as he asks)
All levity aside, what are you doing in France?
LT. HICOX
Attending Goebbels’s film premiere as the fräulein’s escort.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
You’re the fräulein’s escort?
LT. HICOX
Somebody has to carry the lighter.
Chuckle… chuckle.
BRIDGET
The captain is my date, but all three are my guests. We’re old friends, Major, who go back a long time. Longer than an actress would care to admit.
Chuckle… chuckle.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Well, in that case, let me raise a glass to the three luckiest men in the room.
BRIDGET
I’ll drink to that.
They cheers.
BACK TO THE REAL GERMANS’ TABLE
They continue to have a lot of fun playing their game.
BACK TO THE OFFICERS’ TABLE
MAJOR HELLSTROM
I must say, that game they’re playing looks like a good bit of fun. I didn’t join them, because you’re quite right, Captain, officers and enlisted men shouldn’t fraternize. But seeing as we’re all officers here,
(bowing to Bri
dget)
… and sophisticated lady friends of officers, what say we play the game?
Lt. Hicox begins to refuse when Bridget (feeling she knows better) interrupts him:
BRIDGET
Okay, one game.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Wunderbar.
The major borrows five cards from the other table and lays them out in front of Bridget and the officers.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
So the object of the game is to write the name of a famous person on your card. Real or fictitious, doesn’t matter. For instance, you could write Confucius or Fu Manchu.
(He SNAPS his fingers.)
Eric! More pens.
(back to the players)
And they must be famous. No Aunt Ingas. When you finish writing, put the card face down on the table and move it to the person to your left. The person to your right will move their card in front of you. You pick up the card without looking at it, lick the back, and stick it on your forehead, like so.
He demonstrates.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
(CON’T)
And in ten yes or no questions, you must guess who you are…
As Maj. Hellstrom finishes explaining the finer points of the game, a CAMERA PANS OFF HIM and BEGINS SLOWLY ZOOMING INTO STIGLITZ. The major’s dialogue begins to FADE AWAY.
Until we’re in a SPAGHETTI WESTERN FLASHBACK. Which is RED-FILTERED FOOTAGE of Hugo being savagely WHIPPED by somebody wearing a GESTAPO UNIFORM, SUPERIMPOSED over his CLOSEUP.
The flashback disappears. It’s driving Stiglitz crazy, being this close to a Gestapo uniform and not plunging a knife into it.
The major’s voice comes back on the soundtrack.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
… So let’s give it a try, shall we? Everybody write your names.
The five players write their names…
Then move their cards to the left…
Everybody sticks their cards on their forehead…
MAJOR BRIDGET WILHELM ARCHIE HUGO
HELLSTROM VON HAMMERSMARK WICKI HICOX STIGLITZ
is is is is is
KING G.W. BULLDOG BRIGITTE MARCO
KONG PABST DRUMMOND HELM POLO
MAJ. KING KONG
I’ll start, give you the idea. Am I German?
They laugh.
BRIDGET
No.
MAJ. KING KONG
Am I an American?
They laugh—but then Wicki says:
WICKI
Wait a minute, he goes to—
BRIDGET
Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously he wasn’t born in America.
MAJ. KING KONG
So… I visited America, aye?
The table says, “Yes.”
MAJ. KING KONG
Was this visit… fortuitous?
WICKI
Not for you.
MAJ. KING KONG
… Hummm. My native land, is it what one would call exotic?
The table confers and decides, yes, it is exotic.
MAJ. KING KONG
Hummm. That could be either a reference to the jungle or the Orient. I’m going to let my first instinct take over and ask, am I from the jungle?
The table says, “Yes, you are.”
MAJ. KING KONG
Now gentlemen, around this time you could ask whether you’re real or fictitious.
I, however, think that’s too easy, so I won’t ask that, yet. Okay, my native land is the jungle. I visited America, but my visit was not fortuitous to me, but the implication is that it was to somebody else. When I went from the jungle to America, … did I go by boat?
“Yes.”
MAJ. KING KONG
Did I go against my will?
“Yes.”
MAJ. KING KONG
On this boat ride… Was I in chains?
“Yes.”
MAJ. KING KONG
When I arrived in America… was I displayed in chains?
“Yes.”
MAJ. KING KONG
Am I the story of the Negro in America?
The table says, “No.”
MAJ. KING KONG
Well, then, I must be King Kong.
He throws the card on the table.
They applaud him.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Now since I answered correctly, you all need to finish your drinks.
The three counterfeit Nazis knock back their whiskeys.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Now, who’s next?
LT. HICOX
Major, I don’t mean to be rude. But the four of us are very good friends. And the four of us haven’t seen each other in quite a while. So… Major, I’m afraid, you are intruding.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
I beg to differ, Captain. It’s only if the fräulein considers my presence an intrusion that I become an intruder. How about it, Fräulein? Am I intruding?
BRIDGET
Of course not, Major.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
I didn’t think so. It’s simply the young captain is immune to my charms.
The table’s not sure what to do. Is this a confrontation? Then the major laughs.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
I’m just joking. Of course, I’m intruding.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Allow me to refill your glasses, gentlemen, and I will bid you and the fräulein adieu.
(leaning in)
Eric has a bottle of thirty-three-year-old single-malt scotch whiskey from the Scottish highlands. What do you say, gentlemen?
LT. HICOX
You’re most gracious, sir.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Eric, the thirty-three and new glasses! You don’t want to contaminate the thirty-three with the swill you were drinking.
ERIC
How many glasses?
LT. HICOX
Five glasses.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Not me. I like scotch, scotch doesn’t like me.
BRIDGET
Nor I. I’ll stay with bubbly.
Lt. Hicox holds up three fingers (pinky to middle finger) to Eric, the owner.
LT. HICOX
Three glasses.
Eric brings the three glasses and the old bottle, pouring for the three soldiers.
Major Hellstrom lifts up his beer stein and toasts:
MAJOR HELLSTROM
To a thousand-year Reich!
They all mutter, “a thousand-year reich” and clink glasses.
The Gestapo major puts down his beer stein, and then WE HEAR a CLICK under the table.
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Did you hear that? That’s the sound of my WALTER pointed right at your testicles.
LT. HICOX
Why do you have a Luger pointed at my testicles?
MAJOR HELLSTROM
Because you’ve just given yourself away, captain. You’re no more German than scotch.
LT. HICOX
Well, Major—
BRIDGET
—Major—
MAJOR HELLSTROM
—Shut up, slut.
(to Hicox)
You were saying?
LT. HICOX
I was saying that makes two of us. I’ve had a gun pointed at your balls since you sat down.
SGT. STIGLITZ
That makes three of us.
UNDER THE TABLE
We see all three guns pointed at the appropriate crotches, as well as Bridget’s legs, right besides the Nazi major’s. Her pretty gams are sure to be chewed up in the possible crossfire.
Inglourious Basterds Page 10
