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Inglourious Basterds

Page 10

by Quentin Tarantino


  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.

 

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