Beware of a Holy Whore Page #2

Book me a flight for tomorrow.

Let's talk it over.

Have you seen the faces he pulls?

What?

It's really funny.

He keeps doing this...

You're beautiful.

Really?

Yeah.

She was so brazen-faced to me.

- Who?

- Margret.

I feel really sorry for her.

For both of them really.

They're scared of getting old.

Why is Jeff having

the film produced with our money?

Ask him.

He got into this scrape somehow.

You can't ask him anything now.

He's been so strange lately,

especially to us.

Isn't he?

Yes?

Especially to our group.

Maybe you can have a word with him.

You're all from Munich?

Yes.

I'm from Rome.

I'm subhuman in your eyes, I know.

I don't understand.

You treat me like a black.

You're all so self-satisfied.

I'm an outsider for you.

You don't let me in.

You're superior beings,

because you all belong together.

Don't talk bullshit. Why not?

I can't get up enough concentration.

Oh, yeah?

I just want you to have fun.

I'm not important.

I can't anymore.

- Babs.

- Yeah?

OK, Babs, if you please.

OK, I'm going.

There's work to be done.

- Do you have any say around here?

- I guess so.

I'm looking for a job

as an extra or something.

I may be able to fix you up.

Are you here alone?

No. I'm with my husband.

Oh, I see.

In that case...

Thank you.

Jeff.

Oh, Jeff.

Just let go of me, honey.

Kiss me, Jeff.

I haven't seen you for two weeks.

I told you to let go

or you'll regret it.

I have a right to, Jeff.

Just leave me alone.

But I love you.

You hit me.

You all saw it.

He nearly killed me.

He promised to marry me.

He wanted to have kids with me.

It's all your fault, you pig.

Pig.

You'll see...

I'll show you...

All of you.

You're all witnesses.

He nearly beat me to death again.

I'll show you.

You'll see.

Come on.

Two Cuba libres for me.

Sure.

Cheers, Jeff.

- What was wrong this time?

- The usual thing.

Jeff.

Yeah?

Irm's in the production office.

She wants her money.

She says you promised to marry her.

She wants her money

or she's quitting.

Let her quit.

Tell her I don't want

to see her here again.

I'm not shooting if that woman's

on the set. Clear?

- I'm going to bed. Goodnight.

- Goodnight.

- OK. I'll tell her.

- At once.

OK, but I've no money to pay her off.

The lazy b*tch should do some work

before she asks for money.

Good evening, Mr Constantine.

- Enjoy your dinner?

- It was excellent.

Am I going to get my money?

Excuse me.

Irm, Jeff said no,

and he said you should go.

Four years I've worked

for that bastard.

I whored for that repulsive swine.

You'd have starved long ago

if it wasn't for me.

He promised to marry me.

What a stupid b*tch I am.

Just so I'd go on working for him.

He wanted to have kids with me,

and I believed it all.

Come on, Irm. Come on.

It'll be OK.

Good evening, Mr Constantine.

Good evening.

Want to tell me

what we're doing tomorrow?

Sure.

Mike, I want an incredibly long,

slow shot.

Dolly slowly through the two rooms.

Since this is the scene

of two brutal murders,

our approach must be

a complete contrast.

If we make it quick and snappy,

and it's edited afterwards,

the audience will never get the

feeling that a murder takes time.

That it's not so simple.

The woman must know at once

she's going to die. She stares...

After a time, she begins to cry.

I want to dolly into the house

with Eddie,

stay behind him a while and see

how the minister

reacts to his appearance.

When the minister stands up,

we travel in with Eddie.

He speaks about his mandate

and honour and so on.

We dolly back to a long shot.

Then the murder's committed.

Maybe pan to the woman first.

She's in the doorway, watching.

She's speechless and retreats.

Then a slow pan to Eddie.

The minister is murdered.

Eddie looks for the woman,

goes out of picture.

The camera stays on the minister,

then pans past some oil paintings.

They're the guy's

ancestors maybe.

Return to the woman, a front shot

with Eddie from the rear.

They look at each other.

Eddie strikes her.

She collapses without a sound.

Eddie goes into the garden,

lights a cigarette... And that's it.

A murder like that's a strange thing.

It'll appear really sentimental,

and the audience

is immediately rattled,

because it thinks it knows people

up there.

But not the way they tick.

That's what we want to try to show.

You have to understand

what a murder really means.

Tremendous. But it won't be easy.

- You reckon Eddie can do it?

- Do it? Sure. He's got brains.

- The lighting won't be easy.

- I know.

- I'm going to bed.

- Goodnight.

What's up?

The woman there.

Oh, I see.

What's up?

He's hot on that woman there.

I wouldn't say no either

if she were to approach me.

- And if she didn't?

- Then I'd keep mine buttoned up.

Sascha. Come down, will you?

Cigarette?

Me, too.

That's obvious.

Do you think I'd call otherwise?

What's the problem?

Leave me in peace.

Is there something

bothering you, Mark?

No.

Do you know this game?

- What?

- I'll show you.

I knew I would come.

Sh*t.

The other way round.

David, you try it.

Well, what's up?

Can you fix it for Ricky

to f*** that woman?

- Which woman?

- The one sitting there.

She's here with her husband.

Offer her money.

She just has to tell him

she wants to. Otherwise he can't.

No way.

Goodnight.

Want to try?

His reactions are amazing.

Society has made him dead somehow.

He can't react from within anymore.

Don't talk so much.

Try it with me.

If you hit me even once,

I'll kiss you in front of everyone.

You little arse-peddler.

There.

- Come on.

- You have to go?

- I'm afraid so.

- Bye.

Good bye.

Go on, run after that c*nt.

That's all she needs,

a pig like you.

Let's go listen to some music.

OK.

And you can f*** off too in future.

How can anyone sleep

with this racket?

Serves you right.

- My face feels like it's inside out.

- Are you pissed?

- Yeah.

- Me, too.

Do you really believe that?

Damn it. I can't understand a word

when you speak French.

Shall I tell him?

Let's sing a song.

What?

I'll start and you follow. OK?

OK.

Oh, where am I to turn to...

Now.

...when suffering grief and pain?

Whom can I tell

of my delight

when joy fills

my heart again?

To You, to You

Oh, Father,

I come

in pain and sorrow

You send

bliss and gladness

You heal

All my woe

No, thanks.

I think so.

I would move to Spain, too, but...

I don't know what

we should do either.

He must phone Bonn to send

the second instalment earlier.

Everything OK, Mike?

- Korbinian.

- Yes?

Bring me a cup of tea.

Make it quick.

Don't worry, they'll get the message.

Give me back the cups.

I need them.

In two years,

I'll be making movies myself.

I may be a bit slow, but I'm no fool.

- Do you want a cigarette?

- Yes.

You can be nice when you want to.

Yes, you can.

They were all scared of you.

But you're quite different.

Why don't we get married?

We could go off to Peru together.

I can't do that to Sascha.

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