The Grand Budapest Hotel Page #12

Ludwig takes a deep breath. He launches into his spiel:

LUDWIG:

Check-point Nineteen ain’t no two-bithoosegow. You got broad-gauge iron barson every door, vent, and window. You gotbarb’ wire on every containment wall andbarricade. You got seventy-two guards onthe floor and sixteen more in the towers.

You got a 325 foot drop into a moat fullof crocodiles -- but, like the best of‘em, it’s got a soft spot, which in thiscase happens to take the form of a storm-

drain sewer-system datin’ from the timeof the original rock fortification wayback in the middle ages. Now, nobody’s

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55.

LUDWIG (cont'd)

sayin’ it’s a stroll down a tree-linedpromenade with a fine lady and a whitepoodle, but it’s got what you’d call“vulnerability” -- and that’s our breadand butter. Take a look.

Ludwig produces a crude but highly detailed map andfloor-plan of the castle compound drawn with charcoal ona strip of butcher paper. M. Gustave examines it withfixed concentration. He says pointedly:

M. GUSTAVE

Who drew this?

LUDWIG:

(stiffening)

What do you mean, “Who drew this?” I did.

M. GUSTAVE

(impressed)

Very good. You’ve got a wonderful line,

Ludwig. This shows great artisticpromise.

Ludwig smiles slightly, pleased and slightlyembarrassed. M. Gustave points on the map:

M. GUSTAVE

Question:
how do you intend to penetratethis lowest rudiment? If I interpret thelegend correctly, it’s twenty-five inchesof reinforced granite masonry, is it not?

Digging with the throat-slitter, I expectthat would take three to six months of

continual effort, during which timeseveral of our members will have been

violently executed.

LUDWIG:

You hit the nail on the head there, Mr.

Gustave. We got fake documents, secondhand

street clothes, and a rope-laddermade out of sticks and bunk-linens -- but

we need diggin’ tools, and that’s provin’hard to come by in this flop-house.

M. Gustave nods gravely. The others slump, listless, andsigh. M. Gustave taps rapidly on the table with thejerry-rigged shiv. Suddenly, he sits up straight andfrowns. The others watch him, curious -- then look wherehe is looking.

56.

The camera zooms-in slowly toward the crinkled wrapperof the Courtesan au chocolat as the five inmates all

stare at it together.

CUT TO:

Mr. Moustafa and the author at their dinner table

surrounded by meats, sauces, and vegetables. Mr.

Moustafa is immobile.

AUTHOR (V.O.)

At this point in the story, the old manfell silent and pushed away his saddle oflamb. His eyes went blank as two stones.

I could see he was in distress. “Are youill, Mr. Moustafa?” I finally asked. “Oh,

dear me, no,” he said. “It’s only that Idon’t know how to proceed.” He wascrying.

Mr. Moustafa smiles sadly with tears streaming down hischeeks. The author looks worried.

MR. MOUSTAFA

You see, I never speak of Agatha, because-- even at the thought of her name -- I’munable to control my emotions.

Mr. Moustafa dries his eyes with his napkin, but thetears instantly return. He shrugs.

MR. MOUSTAFA

Well, I suppose there’s no way around it.

You see, she saved us.

TITLE:

One Month Earlier

INT. CINEMA. NIGHT

A smoky small-town movie palace. On-screen, a battle-

scene is in-progress: tanks explode while an infantryunit charges out of a trench into a tornado of machine-

gun fire. In the middle of the back row, a love-scene isin-progress: Zero and Agatha French-kiss in a clutchwith her shirt half-unbuttoned and his fingers wrappedaround her clearly-visible, white breast. Her hand isjammed down into his trousers. No one else in thescattered audience appears to notice them.

MR. MOUSTAFA (V.O.)

On our third, formal rendez-vous, I had

asked for her hand in marriage, and shehad agreed. We did not have fiftyKlubecks between the two of us. No one

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57.

MR. MOUSTAFA (V.O.) (cont'd)

knew, of course; but, then, who wouldhave cared? We were each completely onour own in the world -- and we were

deeply in love.

EXT. TOWN SQUARE. NIGHT

Dusk. The platz in the center of Nebelsbad. A carnivalfair is in full-swing with a spinning carousel set to aWurlitzer organ, a bustling gallery of games, andvendors serving beer and sausages. Agatha holds Zero’sarm as they walk through the crowd. He reaches into hisuniform, pulls out a small gift-wrapped package, andthrusts it into her hands.

ZERO:

Here.

AGATHA:

(startled)

Thank you!

ZERO:

It’s a book.

AGATHA:

(hesitates)

I see.

ZERO:

Romantic Poetry, Volume one. M. Gustaverecommended it. I have a copy of my own,

as well. I ruined the surprise, I

suppose.

AGATHA:

I’ll go ahead and open it, anyway.

ZERO:

OK.

Agatha carefully unwraps the package, folds up thepaper, and puts the ribbon into her pocket. Zero flips-

open the book and points at a flyleaf.

ZERO:

Read the inscription.

AGATHA:

(reading)

“For my dearest, darling, treasured,

cherished Agatha, whom I worship. Withrespect, adoration, admiration, kisses,

gratitude, best wishes, and love. From Z.

to A.”

58.

Agatha looks to Zero with tears in her eyes. He smilessadly.

MR. MOUSTAFA (V.O.)

M. Gustave insisted on an immediate and

thorough cross-examination -INT.

STORAGE PANTRY. DAY

M. Gustave sits opposite Agatha at a long table with hishand resting on top of hers as he leans close to herrecounting something vividly. They both laughuproariously. M. Gustave says loudly, aside, to Zero:

M. GUSTAVE

She’s so charming!

Zero broods in the corner. The table is piled with long-

stemmed flowers, and a large, cardboard box overflowswith more.

MR. MOUSTAFA (V.O.)

-- during which he presented Agatha witha porcelain pendant and five dozenindividually tissue-wrapped, white tulipsin a box the size of a child’s coffin.

INSERT:

A white porcelain crossed-keys pendant hanging from avelvet ribbon around Agatha’s thin neck.

Agatha admires her pendant. Zero grumbles:

ZERO:

It’s not right.

M. GUSTAVE

(hesitates)

I beg your pardon?

(conspiratorially to Agatha)

Why’s he sulking?

ZERO:

She’s my girlfriend. You can’t just buyher things.

M. GUSTAVE

(in disbelief)

I’m only interviewing this vision ofloveliness on your behalf.

(conveying pearls of wisdom)

Never be jealous in this life, Zero. Noteven for an instant.

59.

ZERO:

(to Agatha, like a lawyer:)

Is he flirting with you?

AGATHA:

Yes.

Zero looks to M. Gustave with satisfaction. M. Gustave

shrugs this off with a wave of the hand, then offers abenediction:

M. GUSTAVE

I approve of this union.

(still flirting)

Agatha, my beauty? Return to yourbeloved.

Zero and Agatha stand together quietly on display,

happy. She clutches a tulip. M. Gustave nods sagely.

MR. MOUSTAFA (V.O.)

Soon, we learned -

INT. PATISSERIE. DAY

The white-marble frosting-counter in the back-room atMendl’s. There are three, unfinished Courtesans au

chocolat in a row with their tops open. Agathadelicately places a little tool into the fillings ofeach: a slender file, the head of a small hammer, and ahalf-scale chisel. As she closes them, she begins toapply a complex series of decorative ripples and swirls.

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