The Lives of Others Page #4

But it may just note your name

for State Security...

Those grey men

who ensure safety in our land... and happiness.

In 1977, our country

stopped counting suicides.

They called them 'self-murderers'.

But it has nothing to do with murder.

It knows no bloodlust,

o heated passion,

it knows only death, the death of all hope.

When we stopped counting,

only one country in Europe

drove more people to their death:

Hungary.

We came next, the land of

'Real Existing Socialism'.

One of the uncounted

is Albert Jerska,

the great director.

It's him I want to talk about today..."

I tried to get statistics that show...

...that State Security operates more

effectively than we think!

I foolishly rehearsed

my speech for the West in here.

Since then, I've become very musical.

We can meet at my place.

"3 p.m., Pankow Memorial"

Well? Is this safe enough?

My own 'bodyguard'.

I call him Rolf.

That's probably his name, too.

Fire away.

Here.

You want to publish this?

In the West, with your help.

Will you help? Have you told Christa?

No.

I'll help you,

as long as you don't tell her anything.

What?

Georg, it's for her own protection.

This could be right for the 'Spiegel'.

I'm friends with an editor there.

Gregor Hessenstein. Know him?

Not personally.

You have to meet him.

But you can't publish using your real name.

Unless your idea of fun

is a 48-hour interrogation.

I'm cold!

We could go to my place?

There's no State Security at my place!

A friend of Margot Honecker,

winner of the National Award...

Second class!

My apartment is clean, I tell you!

If only we could be sure...

I have an idea

how we can check your apartment.

You know my uncle Frank,

who visits from West Berlin every Saturday,

with his big gold Mercedes.

It seems a bit risky to me, Mr. Hauser.

Yes, I agree with Georg.

Hiding your nephew under the back seat?

I'm really not sure.

Come on, they won't search under the seats.

They'll look under the axles, tap the exhaust,

then I'll be across. Paul too.

The border guards aren't very bright.

You've got the wrong idea there.

- Which border will you cross?

- Heinrich-Heine Street.

Good old Henrich Heine.

They know me and my gold Mercedes.

I'm friends with the guards.

Trust me, I'll call you in 2 hours,

a Schultheiss beer in my hand,

and report the news:

Paul's across.

No! What about Paul's Stasi man?

Rolf! Rolfy, Rolfy...

He'll think that Paul's at home.

Okay, I have to go.

We wouldn't want him to suffocate, would we?

Another beer?

Border control, Heinrich-Heine Street.

Who is this?

Who is this?

No reply.

Just this once, my friend.

- Dreyman.

- Okay,

Paul's plan worked!

No border control at all?

No, no special checks.

Those boys aren't so bad.

It worked as planned.

Thanks for doing this, Mr. Hauser.

Forget it, it wasn't all that dangerous.

- Yeah, true.

- Yeah.

See you soon, and thanks a lot.

Bye.

What do we do if they ask

what we're doing together?

Then... we'll say

We'll say we're writing a stage play together.

For the GDR's 40th anniversary.

Yes!

And it's kind of true.

Who'd have thought our State Security

was so incompetent?

Who'd have thought they were such idiots?

Just you wait...

"7.32 p.m. No further noteworthy incidents."

Hello, comrade. Listen to this here!

Sure, in 1967 there were many suicides.

But why in 1977? You must explain.

You must describe

the social conditions more clearly.

It should remain literature,

not political agitation.

The text is great.

I just want to be sure people

understand it in the West.

It'll cause a sensation either way.

- That's Hauser!

- Of course it's Hauser.

He's not in the West!

They're writing a play together.

For the 40th anniversary.

It doesn't sound like a play to me.

No? Then what?

I don't know... but not a play.

You think a lot, Sergeant Leye.

You're not an intellectual, are you?

Me? No... I'm not one of those.

Then don't behave like one.

I chose you because you know

the equipment

and don't ask questions.

Leave the thinking to your superiors.

Yes, Captain. I'll be off, then.

Have a nice day...

of work... I mean, I hope you enjoy your work.

Maybe I can re-write this part.

I'll send you

all the material we have.

Can you do it in two weeks?

Then I could run it as a cover story

for the first week in March.

It's Christa.

Georg?

Christa, this is Gregor Hessenstein.

- Christa Sieland.

- Of course, I know that!

So, what conspiracy are you cooking up?

Hauser and I are writing a play

for the GDR's 40th anniversary.

Together?

The 'Spiegel' may do an article on it.

- And who'll play the lead role?

- We planned to ask you.

Christa, who would you rather play:

Lenin or his dear old mother?

You can choose.

I see I'm not welcome here.

I'll go for a nap.

Your caution is praiseworthy.

The fewer people know, the better.

The Stasi is not to be toyed with.

On that note, I brought something for you.

I'd have preferred the whole pie.

I already have a typewriter.

The Stasi can identify its typeface.

If they intercepted the text at the border,

for your typewriter using,

you'd end up in Hohenschonhausen.

And that's no fun,

as Paul can confirm, right?

I'm afraid I could only get

a red ink ribbon for this model.

Do you mind writing it in red?

That won't be a problem.

Is there somewhere you can hide it?

- Yes, I'll find a place.

- Don't take it lightly.

I don't want my next article to be about

your disappearance!

Nobody may know that this typewriter exists!

Is this apartment really safe?

Yes.

It's the only place left in the GDR

where I can say what I want.

Fine, then let's drink to that!

This is the real stuff.

To you! To letting all of Germany

see the true face of the GDR!

Cheers. It's better than the Russian stuff!

To your success!

I must see Comrade Grubitz.

Tomorrow at 2.30 p.m...

Tell him that if he blows the cover,

we'll shut down the entire parish!

It's easy!

He can call the Pope and complain!

Okay, I've spent enough time on this nonsense.

Wiesler, I'm glad you're here.

I have to show you something.

"Prison Conditions for Subversive Artists

Based on Character Profile."

Pretty scientific, eh?

And look at this:

"Dissertation supervisor: A. Grubitz."

That's great, isn't it?

I only gave him a B...

They shouldn't think

getting a doctorate with me is easy.

But this is first-class.

Did you know that there are just 5 types of artists?

Your guy, Dreyman,

is a type 4. A "hysterical anthropocentrist."

Can't bear being alone,

always talking, needing friends.

That type should never be brought to trial.

They thrive on that.

Temporary detention is the best way

to deal with them.

Complete isolation and no set release date.

No human contact the whole time,

not even with the guards.

Good treatment,

no harassment, no abuse, no scandals...

nothing they could write about later.

After 10 months, we release.

Suddenly.

That guy won't cause us any more trouble.

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