Lost Zweig Page #6

Synopsis: The life of Austrian writer Stefan Zweig in Brazil. He wrote the famous book "Brasil, País do Futuro" (Brazil, Country of the Future). He and his wife Lotte, in a mysterious death pact, decided to kill themselves in the week following 1942 Carnival, in Brazil.
Genre: Drama
Director(s): Sylvio Back
  8 wins.
 
IMDB:
6.4
Year:
2002
9 Views


another time.

For now,

I'll let you go back to sleep.

Good night, Herr Zweig.

God, why have you forsaken us?

How could I have trusted

a dictator again?

I'm so ashamed!

Damn Salazar!

Damn Vargas!

Idiot!

What an idiot you are, Zweig!

They are dead.

They're all dead.

The Cohens...

The Fleishers...

The Brauns...

all of them...

What do you mean, Stefan?

How do you know?

Because Pontes told me...

that the Nazis

won't recognize the visas.

That's if Pontes ever

even sent them!

So that's the end of it for them.

- But the President...

- Vargas?

That spineless creature,

that dissimulated character?

As far as he's concerned,

we don't exist anymore either.

Why did I marry you?

Was I lying to myself?

God! How worn-out you look,

exhausted by life...

wounded...

The vanity of it!

God, Stefan!

How could you be so cruel?

You've never really forgave yourself

for leaving Frederica, did you?

An attempt to kill

the illness of old age.

Check mate!

Lotte!

My dear Lotte.

Once I was in a travel bureau

in London...

the place was filled with refuges,

almost all Jews.

And all of them wanted to go

somewhere, anywhere.

They just wanted to go

to another place.

Anything was better

than where they were.

I knew at that moment,

with a terrible clarity...

what the future would hold.

You saved me.

And the future has come to past.

This nightmare without end.

I had hoped that,

naively, for something else...

I really believed I could make

Vargas do something...

despite all the signs,

all the warnings.

I have ignored my inner voice

for quite some time now.

Lotte...

I'm through.

There's still time for you.

You have youth and hope.

These last things I don't have.

Stefan, you know I've loved

you since we first met.

I love you more than myself.

I just want to be sure.

Isn't there any other way out?

Are we condemned?

Is this what you really want?

I think you should be

the first to know...

but I tell you under

strictest confidence.

So please don't say a word

to anyone until after we have gone.

I don't understand.

What about your work?

Your Montaigne biography

and "The Royal Game"?

Aren't they ready

to go to the publisher?

I would say...

at this moment our absence

is more important.

When will you be back?

Our plans are a little hazy.

Lotte is sick, I'm exhausted.

All of the excitement

has made me tired.

I mean no offense, Herr Zweig...

but aren't you just running away?

You know, Alberto...

it's not only plants and teeth

that can't live without roots.

Men and women are not better off.

Well, I suppose the war

can't last forever.

No, my friend.

All things must come to an end.

"Dearest Frederica...

by the time you receive this letter,

I will be feeling much better.

Although I'm writing this letter

in my last hours...

you can't imagine how happy I am.

Please don't grieve for me.

Be cheerful knowing that

I'm happy and at peace.

I have not felt so good,

so vital...

and so full of purpose

for many years now.

My decision is a relief

and a release.

Please accept my love

and friendship.

Forever yours, Stefan. "

Here we are.

Thank you, Herr Zweig.

Thank you.

This is okay.

This is the last fitting, Herr Zweig.

In a week you'll be able

to show it off...

to receive from the President

the visas for our friends.

Fine. I hope so.

The cut is a little bit different in

Europe nowadays. It's more classical.

If you could do the same

as the suit my wife brought in...

I'll try to do the best I can,

Herr Zweig, and a little bit more.

We're twenty years behind

here in Brazil...

excuse me...

but we are the kings

of a perfect imitation.

Wonderful!

Wonderful, Herr Zweig!

Good evening, friends.

- Welcome.

- Thank you for the invitation.

Welcome, Hubert.

Well, you're in a good mood!

Yes, I am in a good mood.

Must be a prospect of a journey.

So, what's all this I hear

about you two taking off again...

on a mysterious trip?

Hubert, I've been thinking...

I remember when I first came

to Brazil, back in '36.

I felt I had already been here

or at least a part of me had been.

Dorothea, Hubert.

Thank you for coming.

The first gift I ever

gave to Frederica...

sorry, honey...

back in 1912 or 13,

was an ashtray...

with one of those amazing

blue butterflies in it.

It was very pretty, exquisite.

Frau Lotte? Frau Lotte?

Dinner is ready.

Thank you, Lourdes.

Shall we?

Where was I?

Yes. Well, to make

a long story short...

I didn't realize then

that the poor butterfly...

didn't deserve

to be encased in glass.

You never cease to amaze me,

Herr Zweig.

You're as erratic as the flight

of a butterfly.

But that's what I like about you.

May I?

- Thank you.

- You're welcome.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you.

Perhaps it's time for a toast.

To the flight of a butterfly!

Hello?

Who is it?

Just a minute, please.

Herr Zweig, it's Mr. Faerman.

He needs to have

a quick word with you.

Dorothea, Hubert, my dear Lotte,

pardon me for a second.

Yes, Jonas.

Good evening.

Don't worry.

Oh, dear!

Have you called a doctor?

Good, good.

No, no problem.

I'll give your apologies to Lotte.

Yes, it's a pity we can't say

goodbye personally.

Yes, the manuscript

has gone to NY.

I called it "The Royal Game",

"Schachnovelle".

Do you like it?

You'll get a copy tomorrow.

I think so.

In fact, I think it's the best

I've ever written.

Yes, yes.

And to Hannah, too.

Farewell, my friend.

Keep me in your thoughts.

No matter what happens.

We have gifts for you.

But this is your grandmother's!

Yes.

Now you will never forget me.

They look beautiful on you.

Herr Zweig...

do you think we should

have stayed in Europe?

Joined the Resistance?

Fought like everyone else?

At times I've been

overwhelmed by guilt.

At other times I've felt like

there's no use feeling guilty...

for what's already said and done.

It's a permanent conflict

that can't be resolved.

In your case

you were right to get out.

You're no longer young

and you've already done so much.

Hubert, it's rather like

when a couple separates.

But here. These are yours.

The original Montaignes.

What? You have the complete

set of originals?

Yes, you know Frederica.

She's always so zealous.

She sent the missing ones to me.

Isn't that great encouragement?

It's like a sign from heaven.

"The more voluntary death is...

the more beautiful it is.

Life depends

on the will of others...

death, on one's own will. "

"The more voluntary death is...

the more beautiful it is. "

My dear friend...

do you really believe this?

I don't know.

I don't know.

But... who knows?

Only you, old virus.

My loyal companion

for some many years.

My old, indestructible virus.

You're the only thing that

enchants me and doesn't abandon me.

My invisible mirror.

Yes...

my invisible, unshakable mirror.

- Have I forgotten anyone, Lotte?

- No one, dear.

Did you check carefully?

I've made coffee.

I can heat up some milk.

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Sylvio Back

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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