Mother Night

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MOTHER NIGH "Police"

"Haifa, Israel 1961"

Do you prefer German or English?

English.

You are to write down your memoirs | for the Haifa Institute...

for the documentation | of war criminals.

You have three weeks to complete | your memoirs before your trial begins.

Do you have any questions?

No. This is great. | Thanks for everything.

"Jews, Negroes... | Mongrel"

You are the only man I know who has | a bad conscience about the war.

Who is this?

Bernard Liebman.

I have guard duty | from 2:00 till 10:00.

Oh. I see.

Everyone else on either side...

is convinced he couldn't have acted | in any other way.

How do you know I have | a bad conscience?

The way you talk | in your sleep.

I can tell something | is troubling you.

What do you imagine | is troubling me, Bernard Liebman?

All I heard were | a couple of names.

"Helga" was one.

"Hoess" was the other one.

I knew Hoess.

He had no trouble sleeping.

Slept like a baby | right up to the end.

You know this?

I guess so.

I helped hang him.

- With your testimony? | - No.

With my hands.

Did that give you | lots of satisfaction?

My job was to strap his ankles.

I did a very good job.

I see.

Afterwards, I packed my bags | to go home.

The catch on my suitcase | was broken...

so I buckled it shut | with a big leather strap.

Twice, within one hour...

I did the very same job.

Once to Hoess...

once to my suitcase.

Both jobs felt about the same.

Yeah.

I, Howard W. Campbell, Jr., | am an American by birth...

a Nazi by reputation...

and a nationless person | by inclination.

I am awaiting a fair trial for | my war crimes by the state of Israel.

I was born in Schenectady, New York, | on February 16, 1904.

My father was raised | in Tennessee...

the son of a Baptist minister.

He was a service engineer | for General Electric.

Because of his work...

most of his reading consisted | of tradejournals and technical books.

There were a few | notable exceptions.

Howard!

In 1919, when General Electric | relocated my father...

we left Schenectady | and moved to Berlin, Germany.

By 1938...

I had become a successful | playwright in the German language...

and I had married | the young, beautiful...

and famous German actress Helga Noth.

When my parents left Germany...

they asked me to return | to the United States with them.

I didn't.

"My dear, sweet Eva...

this is the only way...

I know how to make good...

the frightful wrong | which has befallen us.

It does not matter | what lies ahead...

for I have | a full life behind me...

all in those few, | sweet hours with you.

I once told you | that I would pledge my life...

for our nation of two...

and reside there...

even in death...

as surely as I reside in heaven...

when your arms are around me.

Soon it will be time | to keep that pledge...

and I rejoice to think...

that earthly distractions | will no longer intrude...

on my eternal devotion to you.

From this moment forward...

our nation of two...

is the only country...

I will know. "

As the insanity of the world | descended on us...

my Helga and I survived | by pledging our undying loyalty...

to the only nation | that made any sense to us.

It was called | das Reich der Zwei...

"the nation of two. "

It was only one month after my parents | returned to the United States...

three years before America | would enter the war...

when I first met | my blue fairy godmother.

I call him that because no one | believes he existed but me.

But he really does exist... | or at least he did...

on that Sunday afternoon | so long ago in Berlin.

Nice-lookin' men.

I suppose.

- Do you speak English? | - Yes.

Thank God.

I've been goin' crazy | tryin' to find someone to talk to.

Pardon me?

I'm sorry. You mind if I come over there | so we don't have to holler?

As you please.

"As you please. " That sounds like | somethin' an Englishman would say.

- You English, are ya? | - No, I'm American.

That a fact?

Any of my beeswax | what you do for a living?

- Writer. | - No kiddin'!

Well, there's a coincidence, | 'cause I was just sittin' over there...

wishin' I could write...

'cause I thought up | one hell of a story.

There's this American, see?

And he's been livin' in Germany so long | he's practically a German himself.

He writes plays in German, is married | to a beautiful German actress.

He knows a lot of big-shot Nazis | who like to hang around theater people.

Who are you?

Oh, wait a minute. | This gets better.

So this fella knows | there's a war comin'.

America's gonna be on one side, | Germany's gonna be on the other.

So this American, who's been nothin' | but polite to the Nazis so far...

decides to pretend | he's a Nazi himself...

and he stays on in Germany | once the war comes...

and gets to be | a very useful American spy.

I asked, "Who are you?"

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I got so carried away I just...

Here you go. | That's me.

"U.S. War Department | Wirtanen, Frank - Major"

So, Mr. Campbell, | what'd you think of my little story?

What did I think of it? | Oh, I don't think much of it.

I mean, it's highly implausible. | It's ridiculous.

Oh, that's okay, 'cause...

today isn't when you give me | your final answer, anyway.

Final answer?

If you imagine that I'm gonna go home | and think this over, you're mistaken.

I'm gonna sleep like a log.

I'm not a political man. | I'm just not.

I'm an artist.

If a war comes, it's just gonna | have to get along without me.

Well, I wish ya | all the luck in the world, Howard.

The worse this Nazi thing gets...

the less anyone's | gonna sleep like a log.

Well, I don't know. | Maybe. We'll see.

That's right. We'll see.

That's why I don't expect | your final answer today.

If you go through with this, | it'll be strictly on your own...

working your way up with the Nazis | as high as you can go.

To do this right, you'll have to commit | nothing less than high treason.

Even if you do live through the war | without being caught...

your government will never | acknowledge your role as an agent.

We couldn't afford | the security breach.

You come lookin' for a pardon...

they'll deny | they ever heard of ya.

You'd be left hung out to dry.

You make it sound so attractive.

Oh, I have a feeling I've made it | sound very attractive to you, Howard.

- I've seen your plays. | - Really?

And what did you learn from them?

You're obsessed with the notion | of pure hearts and heroism.

You love good, | and you hate evil...

and you'd sacrifice anything | in the name of romance.

I'll be in touch.

It was every playwright's | secret dream...

to create the most challenging role | I could imagine...

and then play the part myself.

Cue theme music.

"Three Years Later"

"Good afternoon, | ladies and gentlemen.

This is Howard W. Campbell, Jr...

the last free American...

speaking to you from Berlin, Germany, | the heart of the free world.

There is a fine article | in the current Reader's Digest...

entitled | 'There Are No Atheists in Foxholes. '

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