Mother Kusters Goes to Heaven Page #4

inherent in the system.

And certain people don't like that.

The parties, the government...

big industry.

A lot of our comrades suffer

for being party members.

They're kept out of certain professions,

prevented from working...

or becoming civil servants.

Just imagine...

a person's not allowed to work,

because he thinks differently!

We just want to help people

see the conditions they're living in.

That's all.

But we're doing all right.

People are content with what they have.

Maybe it's all way above my head.

Well, I'd better be going.

I'm sure you have better things

to do than talk to an old woman...

and I still have so much to take care of.

Thanks for having me.

It made me feel better.

It's good to talk to people.

Really good!

Don't cry, please!

You're welcome here anytime.

And if you ever feel lost

or have any questions...

give us a call.

We'll always be there for you.

Come whenever you like.

I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I called him.

We're going there this evening.

Benno's all hot for you.

Anyway, they have a lovely place

full of precious things.

Really posh!

I thought they were millionaires.

When they said they were Communists...

I was flabbergasted.

I always thought

Communists were dirt poor.

There are Communists and Communists.

Like everywhere else in the world.

There are poor ones and rich ones...

even among Communists.

It's the same in East Germany.

The party bosses...

have their villas and can buy exotic fruits.

The others...

don't have enough bread.

And even that...

is rationed.

Dad wasn't crazy at all

to do what he did, they said.

He saw no other way out.

The Communists could have helped him.

Mom, don't fall for that!

It's way above your head.

Leave that to others.

They're decent people,

friendly and attentive.

They looked after me.

And I'm grateful for every kind word.

They're armchair Communists.

I know dozens of that sort from Munich.

They blather on about revolution...

and what should be done for the workers...

but most of them

don't know a genuine worker.

They should go to the factories

and do something.

But that's a different kettle of fish.

Don't be so hard on them.

These people are different.

They're educated and not snobbish.

I noticed that right away.

Stay away from people like that.

They're up to no good, Mom.

Okay?

At least they talked to me...

and took care of me.

Karl?

Yes?

Aren't we expecting too much of her?

Of whom?

Mother Ksters.

Who have we been talking about?

Sorry, my thoughts were elsewhere.

I think we're asking too much of her.

She was still shaken by the funeral

and then...

all those theories.

No, Marianne. It was perfectly all right.

I watched her closely.

She listened intently...

and took a lot of it in.

And don't forget, she's lonely...

so she's glad...

to be able to talk to someone.

She can't expect much from her family.

Old people tend to be mistrustful.

I think we scared her off.

She has always been warned

about Communists, and now...

she'll keep well out of our way.

She'll come back to us one day.

I'm sure.

In principle, anyone can perform here...

as long as they have...

some musical ability.

I'm not interested in political beliefs.

The main thing

is that the audience listens...

and drinks.

And not too little, either!

But you have a certain aura,

as one can see.

And you sing, too?

But...

It doesn't matter whether you can or not.

Really?

- I thought-

- You thought!

Thinking!

Thinking? Who thinks nowadays?

And people who sing certainly don't think.

Thank God!

Am I right or am I right?

Both...

but...

Philosophy.

Don't touch it, Jrg!

That won't buy you a meal.

I write my own lyrics.

Oh, that doesn't matter.

Beggars can't be choosers.

But I did choose!

That's what they all think.

And they're all fooling themselves.

Okay, when do you want to start?

I don't know...

maybe...

She wants to start as soon as possible.

I see.

I see.

Then let's say Saturday.

At least it'll be jam-packed.

The first show around 11:00,

the second at 1:
00.

Is that all right?

Sure it's all right!

They're the only rights we have here.

I must get back to work.

Cooking the books, if you get my drift.

Well then, all the best.

Goodbye!

Yes?

The ads with your name?

That business with your father.

Will that be okay?

Yes...

that's okay with me.

"How could a seemingly quiet worker...

"turn into a bloodthirsty monster?

"Was Hermann K. really the man...

his co-workers and bosses knew?

"A glance at his private life reveals...

"who Hermann K. really was.

"Outwardly, a nice, friendly guy...

"always ready to help...

"what was he like

at home with his family?

"A tyrant with an uncontrollable temper.

"A drunkard, feared by his family.

"His haggard, worn-out,

prematurely aged wife.

"What must she have endured

from this man?

"But still she defends him to the last.

"'He was kind-hearted, always nice

and quiet and helpful to everyone. '

"But even she is forced to admit

that he drank...

"and was often violent...

"and that she was

sometimes on the receiving end.

"Her son speaks more frankly.

"'He often gave me a good beating,

sometimes for no reason.

"'He could really lay into you

when he wanted to. '

"But the clearest picture of Hermann K...

"comes from his daughter.

"She calls herself Corinna Coren...

"and looks to be making a career

for herself as a singer.

"Describing her youth, she says...

"'My father never showed

any understanding for me.

"'I wanted to study,

but he wouldn't let me.

"'So I left home. I wanted

to stand on my own two feet.

"'I studied, but my father

was always against it."'

What do you say to that?

What should I say?

What that man wrote!

Mother...

that's how things are.

He said he wouldn't write

anything bad about Dad...

and now this!

It's all invented!

A pack of lies!

It's his job to create sensations.

Everyone has to make a living.

People forget it as soon as they've read it.

Who really knew Father anyway?

You knew him. I knew him.

And you know very well it's not true.

As well as I do.

And you even defend that person.

You don't care about Dad.

You, his own daughter,

carrying on with a man like that!

He's done a lot for me.

He has connections...

and I have to look out for myself,

and Father's dead.

Yes, Dad's dead...

but I'm alive.

I'm still alive, Corinna!

And I swear to you...

one day I'll call them to account.

Mark your old mother's words!

I owe it to Dad.

My dear Mrs. Ksters,

I received the letter...

you so kindly sent me.

We've considered the matter closely

in the works council...

and even at a board meeting.

We all understand your grief,

and we realize...

what a terrible blow it was for you.

But we concluded

that we cannot accede to your request.

Let me explain briefly.

A works pension is paid...

only when an employee is killed

in an industrial accident.

In your husband's case,

there was no accident.

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