Lost Zweig Page #3

---

he's telling the truth?

Lotte, it's unbelievable!

Utterly disgusting!

Please, Stefan, get off the stage.

You don't deserve this.

I'm just a poet.

There are no campaigns,

no praise in my book.

I've seen good and bad

and I've written about both.

What about political prisoners?

Why don't you challenge

Vargas's dictatorship?

Tell him to stop!

Tell him to stop talking.

This is absurd!

Go home, Jew!

Thank you, Herr Zweig,

for such a stimulating speech.

The greatest task in life

is to know how to be yourself!

Get out of here!

Vargas's lackey!

It was a shambles!

I was a disaster.

No, Stefan, you did right.

You stood your ground.

Do they really believe that

I'm one of Vargas's lackeys?

That I actually support

this dictatorship?

They just don't understand you.

What they say about Vargas

is true, it's undeniable.

But does it impede me

to do business with him?

No. I must keep

pushing him and Pontes.

If I distance myself of the regime,

it will never happen.

Now they want that rotten book!

God!

I don't know, maybe we should

have stayed in Europe.

Maybe we could have done more there.

Stefan, my dear.

What practical good could you

have done back home?

You work here

is far more important.

Your words are your weapons, darling.

You are fighting!

Maybe you are right.

Now, please, come to bed.

You must sleep.

Tomorrow we have

that awful visit...

to the Immigration Office

with Faerman.

In a moment, dear.

In a moment.

You're a great man, Stefan.

I love you.

Now, don't worry, Herr Zweig,

Frau Zweig.

This is just a way for Pontes

to show off his power.

It's a regular procedure...

concerning all German

and Italian immigrants.

But with the Jews

he's always extra vigilant.

I'm glad to hear

he's so concerned about us.

This way, please.

Thank you. Thank you.

Each month you must come

and present yourself...

to just that you are still here

and still alive.

You see, Herr Zweig?

Pontes wants you alive.

Amusing, how very amusing.

In tsarist Russia,

it was only the prostitutes...

who received yellow cards.

Please, Herr Zweig,

that's a bit strong!

Really, Stefan...

must you behave

like an anxious little boy?

Lotte, please,

try to understand...

she's my only source

of intellectual material.

Is it from Frederica again?

- Good morning, Herr Zweig.

- Good morning.

Good morning, Herr Zweig.

A special delivery from NY.

I'm sorry. It's open.

You can't image how exciting it is.

The mail is my only link

left with the outside world...

if some government censor

gets to read it first.

I understand.

- See you.

- See you, Herr Zweig.

"Dear Steffi,

it was good to hear from you.

Here are the books

on Montaigne you requested.

I searched every bookstore

in NY for them.

It's freezing here now.

How I miss Salzburg!

It's good to know that distance

has not separated our hearts.

I forgive you for leaving me...

but has not forgotten

the pain you caused.

The chapters of your

autobiography I received...

tell me little of you...

hiding once again behind History.

It's a pity, I'm sad to say...

but you have forgotten me, too.

Even so, I still love you...

even desire you sometimes.

Love and kisses, Frederica. "

Lotte!

Lotte, can't you control

that bloody wretched dog?!

Lotte!

"My darling Fritzi,

what a pleasure it was...

to receive your letter

and the books...

for which I send you many thanks.

Letters are getting fewer.

It seems my friends

have forgotten me.

Here, we are having a wonderful

carnival week...

an extraordinary, magical,

sensual event.

But my mind is far away

from such things.

I cannot let

myself be swept along by...

this wave of pleasure

and drunkenness.

The catastrophe back home

makes all joy impossible.

You'll be happy to know

I'm writing again.

It's a strange novel...

like nothing I've written before...

about this game which

has no element of luck. "

Should I get it?

No, no.

I will take it.

Yes?

Stefan, is president Vargas!

Hurray, Lotte! We've succeeded!

We've succeeded!

The President is

in the fountain garden...

at this moment, with the pupils

of the Public Junior School.

At one-thirty pm, lunch will be served

in the President's private dining room...

but he wishes you to join him

first in the garden.

After lunch, you'll be driven home.

Mr. Zweig, I hope you do

enjoy your conversation...

with our grand leader.

Madam. Sir.

Vargas! Vargas!

Vargas! Vargas!

You can go, please.

Herr Zweig, Frau Zweig...

...what a wonderful surprise!

- Mr. President.

Those children, Herr Zweig,

are the future of Brazil...

and they have inherited

a proud past.

This country has never been

stronger than it is right now.

My government is here

for all people...

not just for the elite.

Yet I'm still criticized, Herr Zweig.

Can you explain that to me?

With respect, Mr. President...

you have also abolished

all opposition parties.

Yes, the communists

and the fascists.

You censor the newspapers...

and you imprison those

who speak out against you.

Herr Zweig, have I imprisoned you?

Did you not speak badly

of my regime in public?

Since the First World War...

only the US has taken more

of your people to live...

and earn money than Brazil.

Did you know that?

So?

I really appreciate your continued

consideration of the visas...

which, I believe,

are yet to be sent.

Yes, yes.

Please, let's listen to the music.

My God!

You know...

us Brazilians are

a very mystical people.

Like anybody else, I'm both

a skeptic and a believer...

in signs and messages.

Do you dream often, Herr Zweig?

I do.

I'm having awful nightmares.

Have you ever dreamt

of being dead?

Or even taking your own life?

It's terrible...

believe me.

Mr. President, forgive me...

but they say that one dreams

of one's own death...

it means you will have

a long life...

that death is still far away.

Perhaps, Frau Zweig, perhaps.

But I worry about...

about my future...

and about the future

of this country.

I am Brazil and Brazil is me!

It's an incarnation of my strength,

of my will.

I'm afraid that death

will grasp me...

and all my plans and projects

for my people...

will disappear with me.

My friends,

perhaps I'm being too dramatic!

No, not at all, Mr. President.

Tell me, Herr Zweig...

how is the research

on Santos Dumont coming along?

Pontes told me you've taken

to the idea...

of writing his biography.

Not a word about the visas.

Damn Vargas!

He's like Salazar: only words,

promises, dissimulation.

The Portuguese are masters

in dissimulation...

and Vargas is an excellent pupil.

So...

Now... am I supposed to become

a mere court scribe...

bargaining for lives according

to the wishes of the little dictator?

To hell with

Santos Dumont's flight!

Stefan, please speak low.

Him and that worm of his, Pontes...

think they can force me

to write what they want!

She's saying that

she has been waiting for you.

So much running from yourself...

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes