Morality, morality, morality!
presents
Morality, morality, morality!
Canal, canal, canal!
Banal, canal, whatever!
What is this nonsense?
Let go of me!
Let go! I'll call the police.
Let go!
Police!
Police!
- Come on, get in!
Hopefully you'll pass me
off to a supervisor,
who can better afford a silly thing
like this than you, you poor sod!
They are witnesses. Insulting an official.
The "poor sod" will cost you. I promise.
Just don't break your tongue.
The Hafner woman, Doctor.
- Finally!
Pardon the interruption.
Ms. Winkers, I'll call you
when I need you.
Thank you.
- You're welcome.
Are you behind my arrest?
Do you have a cigarette for me?
Thanks.
Later, Ms. Winkers, later.
So, tell me. Your name
is Marion Hafner.
You maintain an association for
the nurturing of human relationships.
R.U. -Pardon me?
- I said R.U. Registered Union.
What does that mean, "the
nurturing of human relationships"?
You could have long ago peaceably
educated yourself about that.
With the appropriate advisor, my
house is open to everyone.
- So, an open house! You admit that.
- Don't be so naive.
We have evidence that strange things
have occurred in your house.
If you need a case to make your career,
I would have chosen something else.
Gynecologist, for example, or
oncologist, or even something political.
I fear for your cynicism. It will
soon vanish.
Do you know what a cell is? We'll keep you
here so long, you will have become ugly.
I won't do you that favour. I know I
will get my friends released very quickly.
I am very eager to get to know
your friends.
Don't you want to tell me why
I was arrested?
On the basis of a criminal investigation,
suspicion of matchmaking, prostitution
public misconduct,
and so on, and so on.
Take her away, Mrs. Ratzke.
Here, Mr. Engel. Search the house.
- What, my house?
Absolutely! Is someone home?
- Yes, my housekeeper, Baroness Sassel.
Then please ask this baroness to send
along nightclothes and underwear for her.
- Yes, sir. -And a pair of felt shoes, for
the cold feet you will get with my case.
Go ahead.
An impertinent person!
What are you playing anyway?
- Bach. Prelude in D minor.
Bach!
Johann Sebastian.
Off we go! -Good evening. What
do you gentlemen want?
Police. House search.
- Wait a minute.
Cops.
Oh my God! Where am I supposed
to go? If they find me here...
- Don't get excited. Put something on.
Then come on in, gentlemen. Take off
your coats, make yourselves comfortable.
Here, hang this around your neck.
Pretend you're my assistant.
When they come in, press the button.
Dear listeners, dear fellow men,
this is Axel Rottmann from Bonn.
The events in the villa on
the hill are moving fast.
Even the police have already arrived.
Ah, there they are.
Apart from the Carnival turmoil, with
the proverbial Rhinian humour,
you are doing your difficult duty.
- Police!
- Media!
- Stop that! What are you doing here?
- Same as you. We're gathering material.
We appreciate that. We'll look through
keyholes, and at best you'll be in bed again.
Who are you?
- Student of photography.
Baroness, what do you have to say
about such afflictions?
They have unpleasantness. -Whom do you
mean? -Both. The police and the media.
Uh, erase the last sentence. Leave that.
It'll be traced to its most secretive nook.
The crime scene will be combed
through systematically.
Unforeseen discoveries await.
We are now entering the very holiest
place, so to speak. The boudoir
of the madam of the house.
First of all, there are pictures on the
wall that attract our attention,
such as naked Mayas, bathing Venuses.
Venuses? What's the plural of Venus?
Venera!
- Ah, well it doesn't matter.
...waited for, will be very disappointed.
Here the obscene is camouflaged.
The pornography is hidden
behind abstract forms.
What refinement, what ingenuity, what
sophistication, what over-refinement
of the taste for the zest for life!
Altogether, a superior contribution to
our beloved continuing series,
"Living Longer, Eating Better, Living
Better". Or, er, the reverse.
And what do we have here? A birdy.
A quite chirpy birdy would like to speak.
Apropos speaking: maybe he has
something to tell us.
After all, he has heard and
seen so much. Well?
No, he's not saying anything. He's
abiding by the motto of the house:
"La discrtion et la parole de honneur"
Freely translated: silence is golden.
So much for the birds.
- And the dress, Inspector.
Oh, that's right. A dress and
underwear for the Hafner woman.
A dress? For what purpose? Mrs. Hafner puts
great worth in always being well-dressed.
What does she do for a living?
- Mrs. Hafner does not have a career.
Only numerous hobbies.
H- h-o-o-b... hobbies. A candid
word at the right time.
Madam Baroness, I kiss your hand.
That's it.
This report and all photos are by
Axel Rottmann from Bonn. End.
Ladies and gentlemen...
My dear colleague, you're disturbing
my whole speech. Who is it?
Hafner, Marion Hafner.
Hafner? You unlucky fool! If only
you had kept your hands off that woman.
Impossible, judge! The foreign office
put out a warrant
because she charged 1000 marks for
the crown prince's sex education.
Surely he couldn't pay. -He forwarded
the bill to the foreign office.
But we don't set a price
in the field of eroticism...
On top of that, another notice from Consul
Meyer-Cleve, for matchmaking and fornication.
Meyer-Cleve, of the Crude Iron branch?
That's OK with me until Ash Wednesday
We won't allow even crude iron to ruin
the happy faces of the people.
I'm giving you age-old advice:
don't give any headlines to the press!
I am aware that the case is highly delicate.
The highest circles might be involved in it.
Yes, yes, you'll what you
get out of it.
They can't expect her to name even one name.
What could they offer for her confession?
A damp cell with running water,
if it comes up.
I, on the other hand,
offer a 5-figure sum
if she records her thoughts
and memories on tape.
Occasionally, in the morass of modern
society, we find a reason to cooperate
in the interest of cleanliness.
- That won't happen.
That's the only way to
get her to talk.
Listen. You leave me alone with her, under
supervision. I'll press a microphone into
her hand, and record the whole bullshit
on tape. Then I will provide the tape
to you; for free, of course.
- No, no, that's not legal. No way.
OK, it's settled.
Oh, you are also here.
My presence guarantees you the
participation of the public in this case.
The public has already participated with
me very much. -Excuse me a moment. -Sure.
The gentlemen are apparently
already in agreement.
Thank you.
I have brought you some things.
Among other things...
...this small, charming machine,
to which you can entrust the
variety of your young life.
With permission of the high authority,
and with the appropriate professional fee.
How much?
- An amazing amount.
A writer would have to write two
novels to earn that much.
That's no gauge. How much?
20,000.
Multiply that by 5. I'll start to
dictate, with all details and names,
all the way up to ministers.
Shall I go up to...?
I'll talk to my boss. I can't promise
that we'll overvalue ministers,
but you're good for a raise in
circulation, for sure.
And with what should I start,
or rather, where?
Well, from the beginning. Sad childhood.
Father an alcoholic, mother mentally ill,
or vice versa. I don't know what your
childhood was like. Orphanage, beatings,
rape, and so on.
But it wasn't like that at all. Dad was
a teacher, Mom was old aristocracy.
Sheltered childhood, graduation, 4
semesters of linguistics...
Stop with that crap, will you?
First marriage at 22 years old.
Virginal, but not completely clueless.
This is bad. Terrible. Nobody
will buy this off us.
Your fate is supposed to trigger
people's empathy.
Your bourgeois upbringing won't interest
anyone. Bring in the social morass.
Victim of her surroundings, molested
since childhood, abuse of body and soul.
Suppressed feelings, sadness, hates life,
complexes, Freud. Something like that.
Where should I get that from?
I'm not Sagan.
You don't have to invent anything.
Just grab onto life fully.
Don't you read a newspaper?
Here.
"Colonel Warned The Spiegel"
"Fibag Files Vanished Without
A Trace In The Mail"
"Fibag Affair In Documents"
"A Lifetime For Vera Brhne"
"Orgies At The Gynecologist"
"Strauss Covers For Kapfinger"
"A New Brhne Case?"
It started on Shrove Monday.
It started on Shrove Monday.
My mother was nearing 40.
She looked dazzling.
Was twice-divorced
and had many admirers.
We had many parties.
We were even partying on
this Shrove Monday.
There was a housewife party.
I was 15 years old, and my mother found
this a suitable age to begin living.
That's why I was initiated
on this evening.
They gave me a lot to drink, and slowly
I and my inhibitions dissipated.
Eventually, an old friend of the family
grabbed me and pulled me...
.. into the full glow of the crowd.
Hello, my child. You don't
know the world yet.
So we're not yet showing
you our true colours.
And that throws off your equilibrium.
Let oneself degenerate.
Don't miss a moment.
Always "Bottoms Up!", "Bottoms Up!"
Don't wither, don't stand still. He who
deliberates and stands still breaks down.
Tempo, tempo, my son! Go in!
Life is only a salad of pictures,
with which one wallpapers one's soul.
And that salad of all those vivid
pictures, is spiced and served you daily.
With flash-cameras and microphones.
We listen to the grief and the joy.
We chase after the newest sensations.
After a dagger, in a
night in Brussels.
My child, his knees go weak.
Remember, one enters the Reich
with every strike.
Hello, my child, you
don't know the people.
Look away for now; I'm
showing my true face.
And if no guide
promises you the mountains.
Sensation. Sensations,
everything is deception,
everything is a bluff. You can
tell that from all the illusions:
an empty glass, ruffled bedsheets.
Destination: gynecologist...
Gynecologist
Not gynecologist. Dentist.
Dentist.
- Open very wide.
One spring morning, the gentleman
invited me and my mother
to look at his dream house on the
Costa Brava. -Stop, stop, stop, stop...
Uh, "dream house", "Costa Brava",
we can't do that.
Why not? -Better something original.
Instead let's say Riviera or the Seine.
Lugano, Ascona, where they
dropped off all the brothers.
OK, fine.
One spring morning, the gentleman
invited me and my mother
to look at his dream house in Ticino.
My mother took his word for certain
things; that is, he made her some promises.
But she had become wary
in her dealings with friends,
and this time she wanted to
play it safe.
That's not easy for a single woman
if she wants to satisfy her needs.
I was not standing at his grave.
It was the grave of my mother.
She had died in pretrial custody.
Come on. Lift your head, tears!
Cry, cry, sad. Yes, that's good.
Uncle Franz-Josef
Rest in Peace.
Many people sent wreaths, but
no one came to the funeral.
I had suddenly become wise,
and felt very sorry for myself.
But it was a very pleasant sensation.
I wanted to preserve the good-feeling
sense of sorrow for a while,
so I went to a church.
"Church" is very good.
Rejoice with me. I have found my
lamb, which had been lost.
You must be mistaken. I am not
your lamb. -My name is Krampfinger.
Dr. Krampfinger.
Stop, stop, stop. Krampfinger is
too similar. We'll get in trouble.
OK then, why don't we make
it... Kapfler, or Kraempfer.
We'll take the "r" away.
Kaempfer. That addresses a lot.
Very well.
Kaempfer. Dr. Kaempfer. Name means
nothing to you. But I know you.
That is, your case, or to be exact,
your mother's case.
It was thoroughly discussed
in my newspapers. Sociologically,
as a critique of society.
It was never sensationalized.
You own newspapers?
- Yes.
A practical instrument of power, of
the instinct for validation.
But also for the Catholic charities.
For example, I would like to help you.
Why? -You are wise; you are alone.
Even if you think you have 100 friends.
You have a childhood behind you, in
which nothing was spared you.
You have already been on the wide
avenue that leads to destruction.
Yet you stood still,
to find the narrow passage through
which one steps into the real life.
Your voice has a pleasant vibrato.
One feels as if in an apple-blossom
bubble bath.
Believe me, it's not hard to be good if one
doesn't know the chances of temptation.
It isn't such a big deal to fold your
hands in prayer and ask God for solace
when one is an ugly young woman.
But to be pretty, to look like you, and
yet hide one's face in prayer,
that's like a light that shines
through the windows of our days.
Whereto? -I would like to
offer you my house.
I live in the penthouse. Only
the sky is above me.
It looks like the Tower of Babylon.
Humans don't get along anymore,
even without a tower.
Do you speak so articulately in every
situation? -Unless my voice leaves me.
But that happens rarely.
Are you married anyway?
- I'm a widower.
Poor early Middle Ages.
Precious objects.
I prefer Baroque. It's funnier.
After you.
What else can I offer you?
Rosie, we're having the reverend for
lunch, so two extra placemats. -Will do.
That's my cook. This is a
house of natural lifestyles.
Only absolute naturalness overcomes the
perilous methods that magazines, films,
and advertising use to do
their business these days.
My bedroom. Follow me.
One must be able to hear the angels
singing in this bed.
It's a singular joy. -Can one sleep
on it, too? -But of course.
As if in Abraham's lap. -I can't
really picture Abraham's lap.
My child, you shouldn't allow the flowery
language of some folks to beguile you.
Guard yourself from false tongues and
from scholarly tongues.
Because, it is written,
"Beware of scribes".
Why are you repudiating me? -Because you
don't do so yourself, or take your cross.
You'd rather get into your Rolls Royce.
You're so rich, you won't have
an easy time getting into heaven.
But affluence is also a gift from God.
- Of course, everything comes from God.
Your beauty, his affluence.
- Even my cooks. -Even them!
That's why I won't thank you for the
invitation. Rather, I will savour the food.
And, was everything okay, Pastor?
I will have to let you go, Rosie. You
cook too well, and will seduce the pastor
towards overindulgence.
He will get over it. -You haven't been
to confession in a long time, my child.
You know it anyway, Reverend.
It's always the same.
Bad enough. -Should I prepare
one of the guest rooms?
No.
Whoever tries to lead one of these small
ones who believes in me to sin,
it would be better for him to have a
millstone around his neck and be
sunk to the bottom of the deep ocean.
Amen. -Cold coffee, Reverend?
- Yes, as usual. For my friend, too.
Dr. Kaempfer's house. Doctor,
Bonn is on the line.
Connect me to the gentleman.
- I'll hand you over.
Yes?
He plays very nicely.
- Yes, it always starts that way.
They all fall for it.
When one hears him play like that,
one can forgive him certain things.
But he's a real hypocrite, as
the pastor always says.
In his business dealings, as with
his dealings with women.
Yet, you should read his editorials.
They drip with moralism and
other such sanctimony.
Does he always have 2 or 3
girlfriends at the same time?
Of course. Starting with friends
who want to be amused.
But naturally he tries them out first.
Is he generous? -Well, a small apartment,
a few clothes, maybe a cheap bracelet.
And, uh, how does he react when
he is rejected?
It doesn't matter to him.
He can pick and choose.
Get dressed. We're going.
You're not placing any worth
on getting a position from him?
What's this supposed to be?
We just wanted to say goodbye and
thank you for the nice afternoon.
You must be joking.
Why would that be a joke? It's totally
normal to go home at 11 p. m. -Oh
Besides, tomorrow is the start of a new
week. -Pfft, what's starting for you?
Do you want to call all the numbers in
the Yellow Pages to find a new position?
No, tomorrow I have to look nice.
I want to try heavy industry.
Rubbish! Pure rubbish.
It's much too arduous to try to talk a
young woman out of nonsensical ideas.
You're no longer fifteen, and I'm
no longer twenty-five.
I haven't understood a word.
Whatever you say.
Shit! What are you
going to do now?
Do you think he'll follow you?
Then you don't know him well.
He doesn't need to.
Where do you live? -Oh, down there, 10th St,
on the right. -Nice, I'm across from you.
Are you waiting for a taxi?
- Can I drive you somewhere?
You take it. I don't have far to go.
- OK, bye. I'll take the ride.
We can go. I live straight ahead.
Hey, do we want to go get a drink?
- No, we don't want to. I have to go home.
I told you to go straight ahead, please.
Don't talk nonsense. It's 11 p. m. You
sashay down the street looking for
a pair of pants. I stop, you get in,
and suddenly you play the fancy lady,
and I'm supposed to be your chauffeur
who takes you home.
Even the nutcases are laughing.
You have lost your mind.
What are you thinking?
Let go of me! -I only want
the taxi fare. -Help!
Help!
- Hey you!
Are you hurt? Here,
I'll help you.
Did you call for help? -Yes. -The guy
who took off as I turned the corner?
Yes. A light-coloured Mercedes.
Did anything happen to you?
- No, no, my glasses are broken.
Where do you live?
Here. I was just coming out of the cinema
when the stranger started bothering me,
and this gentleman saved me.
Well, OK then. Have a good night.
That way one becomes the
protector of virtue.
But it was very kind anyway. -I need a
taxi. Can't drive without glasses.
Get in. I'll drive you. -What, do you
know this car? -Yes, yes.
The doctor said you need to rest.
- Wait a minute!
Here, you have to take
this medicine, too.
It's not a concussion. Only shock.
Thank you.
Hello, Editorial. Why didn't you answer,
miss? So, please write this down.
On the edge of the box on the first page,
in semibold is the lead, under "Local".
Maybe you will find a suitable
picture of me in the archives.
What? Of me! Now, on
to the text, please.
We all know that Dr. Alois Kaempfer,
publisher and chief editor of our paper,
abhors being mentioned in his own
newspaper. Got it? "Abhors".
Our readers all know Dr. K as a tireless
fighter for freedom, rights,
and cleanliness, and against
corruption and immorality.
It corresponds completely with the
Kaempferesque character of Dr. Kaempfer
that he rescued a woman from the clutches
of a sexual fiend this evening.
In doing so, he suffered a
serious jaw injury.
We believe we shouldn't withhold this
information from our readers,
even at the risk of arousing
our boss's displeasure.
We wish Dr. K a speedy recovery.
That's it. Thanks.
Where are you going?
- Home.
Stay... please.
You're not my type.
You would have to come up
with a lot.
I could make something of you.
- Really?
What, for instance?
To begin with, a lady. -Haven't you
noticed that I am one already?
Yes, but you're missing a few things.
Such as jewellery.
Please give me my suit coat.
Here, as a small jump start.
There would be much more
in there for you.
Thank you kindly.
Yes, what is it? What sort of headline?
Oh, for my article. Can't you find one?
So just write, "Good Deed in Silence".
I decided to become his
employee after all.
He had a lot of power. With his
newspapers he could lift up people,
or topple them, too, provided
he knew enough about them.
I taught him the necessary
elements of intimacy.
And that's how I became, for a
while, his right-hand woman.
I don't know if he suddenly became
frightened of me because I knew too much.
At any rate, one day he told me he
wanted to open a liaison office in Bonn,
whose management I was to take over.
It was fine with me, because as time
went on, it became more complicated
to live next to him.
Hurry up, guys!
Please love Bonn, madam,
please love Bonn.
Where German hearts soar with pride.
Please love Bonn, madam,
do you know Bonn?
Thank you.
Where, however, red
roses never wither.
Do you love Bonn, madam? -Pardon?
- Do you love Bonn?
I don't know yet.
A purely rhetorical question I ask
every visitor, because then he can still
say something bad about Bonn.
Once you know the city, you will see that
there's no truth to what some people say.
Many good things can be said about Bonn.
Such as that it is situated on the Rhine,
and that it doesn't cling to the old.
That's visible in all the new buildings,
and the appearance of the
Bundestag building.
These walls seem to be built to last.
No Entry!
And sadly the thing stands in the
water when the spring thaw comes.
The old houses and the old, rich men
will swim if necessary.
One sees, the Bundestag
is up to its neck in water.
Bonn, with his Schaumburg Palais,
wir building a nation.
Bonn, when I stand on Riegelsberg, how
the breast swells from proud tradition!
They will ask, madam, what does Bonn have
to do with morals? I will tell them,
nothing. Bonn has nothing to do with
morals. It's too small for that.
Here, everyone obeys need, and not
one's own instincts.
Here one stays pure.
This is Nadja Tiller, by the way.
- Oh.
Please love Bonn, madam,
please love Bonn.
wherever the eyes roam
nothing but stars.
Bonn, an attraction for many who have
to... er, want to believe that we, judging
by Bonn, are a grand people, and that a
new German wind is blowing here.
In the course of its long history, Bonn
has sired many substantial children.
His most famous son
was... hard-of-hearing.
Excuse me. Ludwig von Beethoven,
of course. Those who
claim there's a correlation between Bonn
and deafness are mean-spirited, and have
nothing to do with politics.
The best political ideas and thoughts
are silent and enlightening,
and brighten our daily lives,
and are purely delightful to the people.
Joy, fair spark of the gods,
Beethoven, don't turn in your grave.
We enter, drunk with taxes.
Bonn is a stopgap.
First we need unity again.
Alas, no one will speak of Bonn anymore.
All people will be brothers.
Nobody today and nobody tomorrow.
I set up the liaison office
in a hotel on a temporary basis.
It was soon the subject of much
interest from all sides.
Whenever a car stopped in front of the hotel
- at the moment it's Consul Meyer-Cleve -
the ladies of the
officers' circle emerged.
Widows of officers, who watched the
events in Bonn through their curtains.
Even those in the back courtyard joined
in the general nosiness.
And yet, Meyer-Cleve was a guest they
should have been used to seeing by now.
His effortless profits from crude iron
and tank treads led him to become a
frequent and, I must say,
pleasant visitor.
Unfortunately, he always lay
down in the wrong bed.
I wasn't used to it, because
Kaempfer was so far to the right,
that he, for ideological reasons,
couldn't even lie to the left at night.
Therefore, I slept restlessly, and
also dreamt of Kaempfer.
Of his past, which he never
wanted to discuss.
I had a nightmare about you.
I woke up from it,
and at that same moment
I heard you coming.
Love thy enemies, do good for those who
hate you, bless those who curse you,
pray for those who berate you.
Trouble?
These crooks, idiots, drummers,
shadow-boxers!
These low Germans. They want
to finish me off.
They sniff around in my private life and
try to make a scandal out of every
woman's hair that they
find on my carpet!
They only look through
keyholes into bedrooms,
and preferably directly
into the anus.
The real vice of today is
not the vice in itself,
but rather the indiscretion
with which it is handled.
The media thrives on it. Yours too.
You have also shot down some people who
did nothing more than everyone else.
Of course! When something becomes public,
one must identify it for what it is.
Especially in view of public mores.
It is essentially always good to
declare good "good" and bad "bad".
And who is declaring you as "bad"
at the moment?
Political eggheads for reinsurers.
The partisan of that intelligence, who
doesn't recognize its dubiousness
because it's too stupid.
Was there something to suss out?
- What should there be to suss out?
I can answer for everything I do.
But you'll have a very hard time
proving it to dummies,
who don't have your intellectual
and mental scope. -That's just it!
That's exactly what they're
speculating about.
They want to depress me morally and hold
my political alliances against me.
But our alliances are
completely legitimate.
After all, our dealings with ministers...
- Shh! No names please.
But answer this me from your
honour and conscience.
If someone were to ask you if you have
a clear conscience about everything
you have seen and done with me,
what would you say?
I don't understand your question.
I am your employee. It's not a question
of conscience, but earnings.
You... pay me.
OK then. But assume someone offers you a
lot of money if you tell things about me.
I would be quiet like a grave.
Listen, I think it would be best to close
this liaison office temporarily.
You could take a world trip.
- Come now, what's going on?
Someone's going to file a
lawsuit against me.
I don't want you to become
embroiled in it.
A lawsuit involving private matters?
The private side will influence the
outcome. And there will be repercussions.
And then there are business
matters as well.
What private things do they know?
- A couple of photos are going around.
Photos? -Don't worry. You can
only be seen from behind.
I won't leave.
Very well. How much do you want?
You must be aware that my
silence is worth something to you.
I'm staying here. My best
connections are here.
My best connections.
Your friends will leave you in the
lurch. Not my friends.
Everything you are is because of me.
I picked you up out of the gutter.
- Out of the church.
I accorded you every chance.
I paid you very well.
And for all that you now
want to blackmail me.
You want me to forget our past.
I don't have any cheques at hand.
I'll have the money transferred to you.
It'll only work illicitly. -Wherever
it comes from, it doesn't stink.
I have to take a few suits and some
clothes. I'll be away for a few days.
At home I didn't have the opportunity
to have something packed for me.
Just don't betray me.
- You are a creation of the devil.
Meyer-Cleve.
When you're better again and back home
you'll come see me again, right?
You see, I have a lot to thank you for.
I learned a lot from you.
For example: Be as clever as the snakes,
and as innocent as the doves.
Beware of people, for they will
hand you over to the courts.
But when they give you to the courts, don't
worry about what or how you should talk,
because what you should say can be
given to you at any hour of the day.
Stop that!
- I won't put it away.
Most gracious lady, a broad horizon such
as this is rare in Bonn.
Say, who lives over there?
In the tower? A General a. D., by now
completely benign.
"El Topografia", colon.
Private car, license plate: BI.
- BI is Bielefeld, Herr General.
Bielefeld. I was posted there once,
too. My fondest memories.
Our old cavalry.
But no sentimentality.
So, 3:45 p. m.
Gentleman, in parentheses, "unknown",
around 60, small, fat, bourgeois.
- Bourgeois...
Lady, in parentheses, "unknown",
around 20. Tall, slim, and bourgeois.
On the balcony of the heretofore
empty house, number 14. Sighted.
Sighted. -Do you have "slim and
bourgeois"? -Yes, Herr General.
We'll stay on enemy watch.
What will the repair costs be? It seems
quite run-down to me.
We'll come to an agreement on that.
After all, you are a single lady.
I'll have to give you a break.
- That's very nice of you.
I'll commit to have you over as a regular
guest. -Great honour for me, dear lady.
Ah, good neighbourhood. Spa. I have
connections there. I'm an old customer.
Don't be so coquettish.
I took the house and furnished
it appropriately.
"Society for the Purpose of Interpersonal
Relationships (Registered Association)"
11:42 a. m.
Two male persons are shamelessly
transporting a painting of a woman...
...an oil painting... into house #14.
To begin with, because of the direct
proximity to a corporation house,
significant moral provocation. Do you
have "moral", Wagner? -Yes, Herr General.
A disgrace!
For the opening, I held a little party for
my friends, and those who aspired to be.
For discretion's sake, all men wore fake
noses, and the women wore dark glasses.
It was an arrangement that
would be preserved.
I think we're in the wrong place.
These gentlemen meant to go to the house
next door, for the foundation anniversary,
which was taking place
on the same evening.
Good evening.
- Good evening.
Thanks.
Next week I have the written exam.
I don't think I'll make it.
What'll you do then?
- The same as you.
We are having the foundation anniversary,
but I took an hour off, my dear.
Nose.
Donation List
It became a fruitful evening
for the guests.
My house mother, Baroness Sassel,
presented him with the donation list.
She did it with the winning ways of a
general's wife, which no one could resist.
After that, the gentlemen could do and
have whatever they wanted.
Only very few didn't take advantage
of the opportunity.
Even the crown prince of
a developing country,
whom the legation councillor
brought with him,
didn't need long to get
accustomed to the company.
The Soviet Union is sending us airplanes
and cannons for our reputation.
to fight against Western colonialists.
Germany is colonialistic.
Germany good.
It sells many cars and modern things.
I have 10 wives. I put them into the
car. My brothers have 30 wives.
What does one do with so many wives?
- Love them all. -Oh.
Women dance and sing. I do too.
We dance for love. We dance for death.
We dance for all occasions.
Shall I show you a dance for love?
- Please do.
This is good.
Ahh, that's my spa. You see, today
is the foundation anniversary.
I just came over for a second.
What do you want to do, sing?
One guest had a heart attack
due to pleasure.
Police and ambulance would have created
a highly unwanted sensation.
Therefore, we waited until the second-to-
last guest had left the house.
Then we took care of the last one.
How lucky, that he was an old gentleman
from the frat house next door!
Turn off the light! Come on.
And yet, he was so proud that he
could sneak away from the anniversary
party for two hours.
Hurry, hurry!
Come on, we'll put him
in the chair.
Now hurry! Let's go.
We'll just put Mr. Weyer out
in the fresh air.
As long as he doesn't catch a cold.
The nights are very cool now.
With alcohol in one's blood,
one never catches a cold.
Yes, that's the healthy part!
There's a guy sitting here already.
Ah, it's Wuehnke! They've been
looking for him for a while.
Then the two can tell
each other stories.
When the new day dawned, the one man
came alive again, and walked away.
But our friend stayed in his
chair well into the afternoon.
What are you thinking? Hey you!
Can't you feel anything?
Then you're dead!
We want to welcome the great
gentleman bare-headed.
Shortly thereafter, our friend
was carried away, and mourned
him as a victim of patriotic gaiety.
Pause. To that point.
I mean, that is just... I can... I
can't find the words!
You must consider me a complete idiot! You
think I don't realize, I live on the moon!
As if I've never had pleasure,
but only read the daily newspaper.
And that I'll buy this drivel!
But you are mistaken.
I will charge you additionally with
theft. You steal the German reality,
and want to sell me these stories to
instill yourself with truthfulness.
But not with me! -Why should I
force the truth into myself?
You said yourself that these are all things
that originate from the German reality.
Don't pretend to be stupid! What we
need from you is the truth. Your truth.
For example, on the hill again. Those
are the facts we have to use.
Who financed you, who is the contractee?
- I have told you all this already on tape.
And I'm supposed to believe you?
Would you prefer if I told you
I inherited it from an old aunt?
You are a monster. But you are
misjudging the situation.
You are trying to protect your friends.
That dignifies you.
But you don't know if your
friends are protecting you.
If that's how they want it. I'm
counting less on the friendship
than on the survival instinct
of my friends.
You see, they have a reason.
So, we your ad on hand. That is,
by the way, thanks to your arrest.
It was provided by, if I may say,
one of your especially intimate friends.
Meyer-Cleve? -Yes, that's right. You see,
then, that your friends won't help you.
The only thing that can help you
now is to tell me the truth.
The whole truth, and nothing
but the truth.
Of all people, him.
You shall have his story. -You see,
it's a start. Ratzge, take her away!
It started on a rainy evening.
I knocked several times.
- I didn't hear anything.
Are you my cousin's boyfriend?
Where is she?
I don't understand.
- But Mrs. Stumm lives here.
Oh. She was my predecessor.
I have been living here
for one month.
But that's not so great... I wanted...
My car is broken and I'm stranded here.
I'm very sorry about that. I don't even
have a telephone to call you a taxi.
There is no taxi. I've tried that
already. In this weather, all
politicians in the village are
on the move in taxis.
Even if I don't speak or sing,
may I sit next to your stove
to dry my clothes? -Yes, of course.
Please, have a seat.
- Thank you.
Don't let me hold you back, especially
from any important knowledge.
Do you have an upcoming exam?
No, no, no. But no, I...
...I just started.
Excuse me. I've surely caught a cold.
Do you have any cognac? -I'll get
one from the pub next door.
Wait a second.
That's really not necessary.
Oh, I see. I just don't always want to
be seen as the son of a rich father.
The Problem of Spiritual Being
On the Overthrow of Values
The Cause of German Hatred
Since you're still here...
- Why shouldn't I be?
I was sure I was crazy, and that
you didn't exist.
Who are you? -My name is Marion.
I come from Duesseldorf.
I did four semesters
in phylology in this little town.
Sadly, I didn't finish.
- Why not? You can still do it?
And who are you?
I am the son of a nouveau riche father,
who is angry that I don't value his money,
and that I don't have the talent to
become a merchant or money-maker.
They are almost dry.
In a minute I'll be gone again, and leave
you with your Vivaldi and thoughts.
I'm not throwing you out...
into the darkness.
If I stay any longer, you'll be calling
out in vain to your brothers.
Like Joseph, so that they assist you.
Are you coming again?
- Why should I?
This pad is too romantic for me.
If I move out of here, how would
you find out my new address?
From your landlady. -What else can I
do so that you come back?
You have to know that yourself.
Many thanks for the warmth.
Your papers, please.
- There you are, madam.
How old are you?
- Just turned 21.
21. Very good.
We'll have to change your
hairdo somewhat.
Proof of age?
- It must be there.
Ah yes, here. Very nice.
Good evening.
Any special knowledge?
- Latin and French.
And what about languages?
I mean, no English? -Yes, that
too, but sadly not perfect.
That doesn't matter. You can make up for
all that here. And what about literature?
Oh yes, I have loved reading my whole
life. -Very good, my child. Take a seat.
Good evening.
- Good evening.
Are you musical?
- I think so.
Do you play an instrument?
- Flute.
Ah, you play the flute! That will
bring our guests great joy.
Good evening. Is Marion back already?
- No.
I also play the piano, of course.
- Do you love Brahms?
Actually, I prefer Bach. -Bach! That's a
perfect fit. You see, we have a spinet.
I will have it tuned just for you.
Good evening.
- Good evening.
Well, how was it? -I'll tell you in a
minute. I just have to get changed.
Did you find him?
- Yes, yes.
Goodbye, madam.
- Goodbye, my child.
Well, now tell me.
He is a nice boy. I wouldn't
have expected that of you.
Maybe... he is only an exception because
he wants to become a genius.
Genius? Genius. What a joke!
We don't produce those anymore. The
preproduction costs are too high.
Only two types still exist:
millionaires and non-millionaires.
You are convinced that money is
everything. Your son disagrees.
That is his perfect right.
I don't care if he values money or not, but
that he disrespects my work is too much.
When I look at the sons of my
tenants or colleagues...
They tear down their studies,
make money like their fathers,
and live like gods of the republic.
You have three children. You claim your
two daughters are real prodigies.
Isn't that enough?
Of course. They are everything to me.
But should my factory fall into the
hands of rotten sons-in-law someday?
No. I'd rather burn it down.
Say, you have now seen
him and spoken to him.
Maybe it would be a big and rewarding
task for you to take him into your hands.
Or into you bed. And try to turn
him into a sensible guy.
What is, to your mind, "sensible"?
That he doesn't study philosophy
or some other such nonsense.
Rather business! And he should think
about being my successor someday.
Don't you have any scruples?
I thought your wife had
a moral addiction?
That's good for the daughters.
They have to be without reproach.
But a young man needs
experience, not morals.
Emotionally. You have to approach
him emotionally.
Otherwise he won't respond.
It would be profitable for you.
I'll recognize you in my will.
Ladies and gentlemen, we find ourselves
at a dizzying height. Behind us is
Father Rhine. Under us is at least ten
meters, but for you, dear listeners,
we will not shrink from any danger. We
look through keyholes at totally unknown
beds, we photograph divides and chasms
of moral and human depravity...
Somebody fell out of a tree.
Can I help you? -Thanks, but I'll
make it to the car.
I saw you fall. -From the tree? -Yes, from
the tree. -I don't know how it happened.
You had to fall. -Why did I have to?
- It was sawed into at my instruction.
You inadvertently trespassed in my
zone of reconnaissance.
Who are you anyway?
Von Huempheden, Retired General.
I wish you a pleasant Sunday.
"Retired" must be a joke.
You're still quite active,
but be careful not
to step onto a mine.
"Retired". Old boob.
You see how nice we are. We're leaving
again. -You don't like us, hmm?
We don't like you either. You're
too stubborn.
But you could do your duty
as a brother anyway.
And that would be? -When Mom calls,
tell her we're sleeping at your place.
That we've gone to the movies with a
friend, and are then coming to you.
Why should I deceive for you? I can't do
that to Dad, who sees you as pure gold.
Don't make dear Dad unhappy.
- And don't be a party pooper.
We would say good things about you.
Will you do it, or is deception too
difficult for you?
Certainly not. After all, I come from
the same family as you.
We are ready to reciprocate your
favour. Your loving sisters.
Hello.
"Good evening, madam. I'm happy to see
you again. " -Good evening. Please enter.
It sounds pathetic, but
that's how it is.
I almost went crazy, because I was
scared you wouldn't return.
Really?
- Yes.
Who furnished this?
- An architect. How is it?
Pretty. Only a little impersonal.
Lipstick. With whom are you
cheating on me?
My sisters were just here. They needed
an alibi for tonight.
An alibi. Are they that young?
- Seventeen.
My father would kill them
if he knew...
Yes?
Good evening, Mom. To the movies.
Afterwards they're coming to me.
Yes, of course. I'll send them
home to you tomorrow.
Goodnight, Mom.
The holy family. One just can't
look too closely.
You don't seem to think much
of your family.
Everybody lies to everyone else.
Everyone does what he wants.
They all feign great happiness.
I hate this untruthfulness.
What will you have to drink?
If you keep speaking to me so formally,
I fear for the rest of the evening.
I'd like to have a cognac.
To me you are like a... singular angel.
I'm like all others. I take what I want,
and watch out that I don't pay too much.
I'm not buying it.
Why? Today we all find an excuse for
why we are the way we are.
You will also need an excuse sometime.
Until then, you're dreaming.
There are medications to
keep me from waking up.
Yeah. Me.
You'll have a hard time
getting rid of me.
I don't want to get rid of you.
I will be your lover.
No more... and no less.
And you won't ask any stupid questions.
In a year you will have
forgotten me anyway.
But I could bring you to your car.
With what? Besides, I can park in
front of your house with my car.
But that would be against our agreement.
Be peaceful, my love.
Society for the Purpose of Interpersonal
Relationships (Registered Association)
Pardon me, can you tell me what kind
of establishment that is?
I don't know, sir. Not yet.
It looks unquestionably like the societal
disguise of the secretive predecessor.
Why are you interested in it?
Are you also a journalist?
No, no. I'm interested in the
woman who just walked in.
She's probably on a mission for a
foreign power. -Why do you assume that?
Intuition, sir. An old soldier
lives on intuition.
I've been watching this house
for some time.
Good evening.
- Good evening.
What can I do for you, sir?
Have you been endorsed?
What the hell kind of place is this?
- If you don't know, you should leave.
I couldn't stand it. I just wanted to be
around you. You weren't supposed to know.
But when I got here...
Tell me what kind of house this is!
- It's my house.
What happens here?
- I'm the madam here.
I have a very contemporary job.
My clients are using their money to
try to close their education gaps.
They are all poor bigwigs, not properly
understood in their domestic lives.
My girls are very educated
and cosmopolitan.
I can heartily recommend them to you.
- Stop it! This isn't you!
You just want to...
- Don't shout! Behave yourself.
Why did you come to me?
What were you feigning?
I feigned being a married woman
from Duesseldorf.
Duesseldorf is the untrue part. -And your
scenes before we made love, and during?
The long-winded gestures of your feelings,
your understanding of sensitivity,
being good?
All cunning routines learned over the
years from the most miserable creatures.
Get out!
What were you looking for with me?
Opportunities to play games.
- Who sent you?
Just spit it out. I suspect
it already.
Your thoughtful father, who so
wants to love you.
He talks himself into believing that he's
a great guy and his son a ne'er-do-well.
That's his mistake. He is also
a ne'er-do-well.
Come here!
I would have also loved to
poison my husband.
Just so you know, people like us
have a lot understanding.
That's very nice of you, Mrs. Ratzke,
but I have never poisoned a man.
Oh, I see. That's the one in
the neighbouring cell.
Fill my glass again, Wagner.
I'd like to drink to
Lieutenant-colonal Von Bleth.
In memoria.
Comrade Bleth.
What do you want?
Your hand signal.
I didn't want to take the fee for the
soldiers' newspaper.
I wanted to get revenge on him. I
wanted to cut off a branch on him, too,
but, I asked around. I couldn't find
any dirt on your general or staff,
or whatever his name is. -Wagner, throw
this individual out of here.
But General, I didn't mean to offend you.
Just the opposite. Helmets off; hats off.
There aren't many generels...
or does one say generals.
Hands up!
But you wouldn't... Your hands
are relatively unsullied.
You don't want to...
- Turn around.
He's nuts. He's a loon.
General, I'm warning you, millions of
readers are standing behind me.
We both want the same thing. I'm convinced
you have more dirt on that house than I do.
I'm prepared to buy it off you.
Who sent you?
- My editors.
What do you know about the house?
Unfortunately, not enough specifics.
Only that it's an exquisite bordello.
Repeat yourself! What is this house?
- Well, a posh brothel.
Get lost.
General, I don't understand. We have a
bond. There's something in it for you.
Or is your pension that high?
Don't do that!
Bordello?
Go hoop, la la la!
Good morning, General. We
of the old cavalry.
You have the televiewing.
I have the echo.
Oh, a beguiling echo!
The mask looks good on you. -One
disguises oneself as well as one can.
What can you advance us?
- You have to get more from Dad.
That's not possible.
Otherwise he'll notice.
You seem familiar to me, young friend.
You too.
You wanted to know what was going on in
that house into which the lady entered.
Yes, but I know now.
- And that brings tears to your eyes.
You conclude correctly, General.
One has to take defeat with poise.
I also have reason to cry. I blamed
myself severely.
Even so, hold onto your ideals.
Cry over your ideals.
Bad times are coming. Women start to
think the wars will all stop.
Mankind falls asleep.
You should raise the
alarm, young friend.
It is the prerogative of youth
to be loud.
Well, finally!
What are you two doing here again?
You promised us we'd be allowed
to sleep here. Besides, she's wasted.
She didn't notice that there was gin
in her grapefruit juice.
Help me, why don't you.
Hey, wake up! Come on.
You two really are getting at
it, aren't you?
I was really scared you
wouldn't show up.
Hold her for a sec.
The telephone rang twice already.
Here, in my apartment?
If that was Mom...
Come.
Come into the bathroom. -What do you want
to do with her? -Give her a cold shower.
Where are those two?
Are they really with you?
- Where would they be otherwise?
Be quiet or you'll wake them up.
I don't know. I think I'm getting old.
I'm seeing ghosts.
But you are looking better
and better. I like you this way.
Amazing, what... how you have advanced.
I was scared you were the
black sheep of the family.
Don't be angry at me, son.
As a father, one just wants his
son to represent something.
Uh huh, you have a nice place here.
Very nice! Open house.
Do you need any more money?
- No, thanks. Do you want a coffee?
No, no. Coffee doesn't agree with
me anymore.
Will you bring those two home?
- Yes, as soon as they awaken.
Er, were you also invited to the party?
- To which party?
Well, at her place.
"Party of the animals. "
The name says everything.
She does it every year.
Very strict duty to wear a mask.
All of her guests and ladies,
most of whom are from
the very best circles.
Are you going there? -No, it's too
risky for me. So, keep it up!
You know, news of the girls really
took a load off my mind.
And because of you, too.
Dad!
- Yes?
How would you like it if we
went to the party together?
We, together?
- Yes.
Are you serious?
- Of course.
Since we are both, so to speak,
"friends" of hers.
Well, very novel, don't you think?
Very novel, Dad. We can even disguise
ourselves so that no one recognizes us.
You know, I've always said, you need a
gal who can teach you how to have fun.
You're just a late bloomer.
A cool mask party.
- You? Go figure!
Where is it? -It isn't revealed
until the last minute. In some villa.
The joke is that no one recognizes
anyone else. -That could be really cool.
What does one go as?
And the houses fell to the ground.
And what becomes of her?
A garden of earthly delights.
And prayed to the money.
And prayed to the animal.
And victors died;
the animal doesn't mind that.
Do you know who invited me? -No.
- My devoted son, Hans.
That's not true. -Why not? You have
totally rebuilt him, inside and outside.
I'm very grateful to you for that.
You scared the hell out of me!
Blackbird, thrush, finch, and starling.
And all the rest of the birds.
How about that! The newest specialty of
the house. Twins! A delicacy!
Ahh, Dad!
- No!
Say that you aren't my daughter!
Say that you aren't!
Stop, Dad!
- Hans! The sonofabitch! Hans!
Whores, get off!
Are you looking for me?
Was this your production?
- Yes, very effective, don't you think?
Morality, morality, morality.
Scandal, scandal, scandal.
Morality, morality, morality.
Ash Wednesday, gentlemen.
Old sulphur smells new sulphur,
proliferating in the peoples'
disdainful actions.
And when the predestined time has really
come, the new one begets a new demon,
an unholy, invincible one - Aeschylus.
Would you be so kind as to translate
that, Professor?
Our friend, my friend, my war comrade
and postwar benefactor, Meyer-Cleve,
shot himself an hour ago.
- Thank God!
Gentlemen, may I ask of you?
We want to try to maintain
his good name.
So, colleague Merker, therewith the last
available prosecution witness is gone.
I'll leave it to your discretion.
Get up Hafner. You are free to go.
Free to go? Why? -From what I heard,
the main prosecution witness,
a certain Meyer-Cleve, is dead.
Do you notice something, my lady?
Ash Wednesday.
Go hoop, la la la!
A tragedy finds its finish, and already
the next one is looming.
All pleasure ends on Ash Wednesday.
The regret always follows the act.
Every tragedy begins with a new murder.
Character assassination, suicide, lust-
murder, robbery-murder, muder generally.
Think about the hacked victims of
the knife in the chest.
Think about the neighbour, the friend,
your own wife.
Open the newspapers, procure your
broads, demand your scandal.
You have a social right to it,
because... morality is a...
Dear viewers, that was the
word for Ash Wednesday.
We apologize for the
temporary audio difficulties.
Ladies and gentlemen, amending our planned
program, we are bringing you, from London,
a continuation of exposs from
"Process of Morality 63".
We wish you a clean reception,
and a clear conscience.
We are switching over.
We are switching off.
Oliver L. for KG and SMz.