Sunshine Page #7

for us at the Civic Club.

- It's hardly a matter of money.

- Two hundred thousand.

Please, Mr. Brenner, you must

realize that every single man...

on the national team comes

from the Officers' Club.

Two hundred and fifty thousand

is our limit.

We have several bankers in on this.

It's a perfect tradeoff.

You get money and full support,

and we get a national champion.

The way I see, a silver medal

at the very worse.

- Mr. Brenner, forgive me, but l...

- Half a million.

No. My answer is no.

You need a team for this sport.

That's a group of men

with a common goal.

You have more in common

with them than with us?

Yes, we're a team.

And if we manage to buy

a few of your teammates?

You propose to buy Royal Army

officers? Baron Margittay?

These men are gentlemen.

Forgive me, Mr. Brenner, please.

- [Laughs]

- [Laughs] Why?

These people are disgusting.

Shall we dance?

I've promised Istvan

the first dance. Sorry.

But the next dance

is definitely ours, darling.

So you'll have

to be content with me.

They think they can buy anybody.

Who?

The little man over there,

Mr. Brenner, and his Jewish friends.

They think money's

the answer to everything.

Mr. Brenner specifically or

Mr. Brenner and his Jewish friends?

They're all the same.

It's a waste of time...

paying attention to these people or

even bothering to be polite to them.

Poor Junior.

I love you very much, you know.

I love you as well.

We're lucky in this family.

Everybody loves everybody else.

No, Adam,

I'm in love with you.

I wake up every morning

thinking about you.

I hope you're not angry

that I've told you.

No, I'm flattered. I don't know

what to do now that you've told me.

Nothing.

Just let me love you.

In your opinion, who is

the best coach in this country?

The best man to prepare the team

for the Olympic games?

- Baron Margittay.

- Exactly what I want to hear.

Next question:

Who on the team can win for us?

- That's a difficult question, sir.

- But you have an answer.

- I'm not sure I do.

- I'm sure you do. Go on, please.

- I would prefer not to answer, sir.

- Damn it, man, speak up.

The team will only be strong

if Tersikovsky stops drinking,

if Saray

makes fencing practice...

more important

than hunting and fishing...

and if Rossa gives up

his various plots and intrigues.

I see. Please write down

the ideal team.

The members

of the Olympic team are:

Captain Lugosy,

Captain Saray,

Captain Rossa,

Captain Tersikovsky,

Captain Rossa,

Captain Tersikovsky,

Mr. Sors.

This summer we have only one

objective:
To win the Olympic games.

It is your duty as officers of

this magnificent country's army...

to inspire a strong

national spirit...

and to prove to the world that our

nation lives now and lives forever.

Thank you.

You'd do well not to try to

influence the team selection, Sors.

Otherwise, somebody might

cut you down to size.

- Why are you always smiling?

- Am I smiling?

One day I'll wipe

that smile off your face.

[Grunts]

[Grunts]

[Shouts]

[Shouts]

What's going on?

What's going on?

What the hell is going on?

Somebody answer me!

What are you doing?

Team practice is still going on.

Practice is over.

The gentlemen have left.

You can't see me?

I'm invisible?

Beg pardon, sir,

but this is a military club...

and the military gentlemen decide

how long team practice will go on.

The officers told me

to shut the lights at 10:00.

- Turn them back on.

- No, sir, I will not.

- Do you know who I am?

- I don't care who you are.

I am a national saber champion

and a member of the Olympic team!

Since you don't care about these

things, I'm gonna make you care.

- [Caretaker Gasps]

- Turn them back on!

You bloody Communist,

trying to sabotage our training!

Sir, please...

Get out!

Get out. Go!

- Adam.

- Greta.

- Is something wrong?

- No, nothing.

I've been waiting for you

to wish you luck in Berlin.

What happened?

You're so upset.

The caretaker was being difficult.

I lost my temper.

You must have had

your reasons.

I'm ashamed

of myself.

Am I always

smiling?

Not often enough

at me.

- I nearly killed him.

- But you didn't.

No, I didn't.

Perhaps you'll kill me one day

when you've had enough of me.

- [Laughs]

- [Laughs] Perhaps I will.

How will you kill me?

Strangle me?

- Good idea.

- Try it. Hold my neck, tight.

- What are you doing?

- I can't bear not being with you.

- You're my brother's wife!

- I'm myself.

Istvan is my brother.

I love him.

What makes you think

I would steal his wife?

You can't steal

what's already yours.

Why don't you

let yourself be loved?

You're the great love

of my life, Adam, not Istvan.

No.

No, Greta.

dd

dd

[German]

[Continues]

[Crowd Cheering]

[Radio Announcer] Ladies and

gentlemen, Hungary's Adam Sors...

and Italy's

Stefano Sarto.

This match decides

the Olympic gold medal.

[Judge]

Halte.

[Crowd Cheering]

[Judge]

Touche, touche.

A gauche touche.

Messieurs, en garde.

- Etes-vous prets?

- [Sighs]

Etes-vous prets?

Allez.

- [Sabers Clashing]

- [Sighs]

[Sabers Clash,

Crowd Gasps]

Adam Sors' saber has broken, when

Sors looked about to even the score.

Venez, s'il vous plait.

Choisissez un sabre.

No, no.

Our Father,

who art in Heaven,

hollowed be Thy name.

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be

done on Earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread

and forgive us our trespasses...

Rimessa, Sors.

Undermine his tempo.

You are better

than he is.

[Judge]

Monsieur.

Messieurs,

en garde.

Etes-vous prets?

- Allez.

- Rimessa.

- [Cheering]

- [Judge] Touche, touche.

- A droite touche.

- Adam Sors made a fantastic hit!

Maybe our luck will change now!

One more hit to even the score!

Halte. Attaque par de gauche.

Remise. A droite touche.

[Applauding]

[Applause Continues]

[Judge]

Messieurs, en garde.

[Judge]

Etes-vous prets? Allez.

[Radio Announcer]

They stand fixed, still as statues.

The score is now four-four.

It needs only one more hit...

to decide which country will

take home the Olympic gold medal.

[Adam Shouts]

Attaque sous la preparation de

droite. Pare, pare. Riposte. Touche.

A droite touche.

Vainqueur a gauche... Monsieur Sors.

[Judge]

Hongrie.

- [Cheering]

- Monsieur Sors.

[Applause, Cheering]

- [Applause, Cheering Continue]

- Yes! Yes! Yes!

- [Cheering Continues]

- Yes!

Yes!

Yes.

Come on, let's go!

Sors!

[Cheering]

[Chattering, Cheering]

[Continue Cheering]

[Cheering]

Well done, Junior!

Thank you! Thank you!

- Well done. Thank you.

- Thank you, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Congratulations, Junior.

[Radio Announcer]

The Olympic gold is ours!

Adam Sors, the national treasure.

Our wonderful national treasure.

- [Announcer Continues]

- Your father would have been proud.

[Radio Announcer] Adam Sors, we

owe you our everlasting gratitude!

Well, dear boy...

you're disgustingly sweaty.

I'vejust telephoned

the Prime Minister. He's ecstatic.

He'll make mention of your victory

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