Read Inglourious Basterds Online
Authors: Quentin Tarantino
Invitation?
THEN…
… Goebbels’s voice says OFFSCREEN:
Is that the young lady in question, Fredrick?
Private Zoller turns in his direction, takes Shosanna by the arm, and leads her to him.
Yes, it is, Herr Goebbels. Emmanuelle, there is somebody I want you to meet.
Joseph Goebbels, remaining seated, looks up at the young French girl, scrutinizing her as he spoons crème brûlée into his
mouth.
The excited Fredrick introduces Shosanna to the propaganda minister formally.
Emmanuelle Mimieux, I’d like to introduce you to the minister of propaganda, the leader of the entire German film industry,
and now I’m an actor, my boss, Joseph Goebbels.
Goebbels offers up his long, spiderlike fingers for Shosanna to shake. She does.
Your reputation precedes you, Fräulein Mimieux.
He looks to Francesca to translate, but she’s just taken a big bite of tiramisu.
They all laugh.
Frederick jumps in…
And normally, this is Herr Goebbels’s French interpreter, Mademoiselle Francesca Mondino.
FRANCESCA
looks up at Shosanna.
NARRATOR’S VOICE comes on soundtrack:
Francesca Mondino is much more than Goebbels’s French interpreter.
She’s also Goebbels’s favorite French actress to appear in
his
films… . .
FLASH ON
FRENCH CLIP
from one of Francesca’s B/W Goebbels produced productions.
Francesca, dressed as a French peasant girl, with a YOUNG GERMAN (MOVIE) SOLDIER.
She speaks in FRENCH, SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH:
I love you, I can’t help it. My country or my heart, which do I betray?
A SUBTITLE APPEARS below naming the film’s title:
FLASH ON
Francesca and Goebbels having sex in her boudoir, on her red velvet bed.
And Goebbels’s favorite French mistress, to act in his bed.
WE SEE JUST A SUPER-QUICK SHOT OF Goebbels FUCKING Francesca DOGGY-STYLE.
(animal-like)
Do it! Do it! Fuck me—fill me!
BACK TO FRANCESCA
looking at Shosanna.
Bonjour.
Bonjour.
And you’ve met the major.
The Gestapo officer steps up and says to Fredrick in German:
Actually, I didn’t introduce myself.
(to Shosanna)
Major Dieter Hellstrom of the Gestapo, at your service, Mademoiselle.
(he clicks his heels)
Please allow me. Have a seat.
The Gestapo officer pulls out a chair for the young lady to sit down. Shosanna takes the hot seat. Seated to her right is
Pvt. Zoller. To her left are the two curly, pampered poodles. Major Hellstrom pours Shosanna a glass of red wine from a small
carafe on the table.
Try the wine, Mademoiselle. It’s quite good.
Goebbels looks across the table at her.
Well, I must say, you’ve made quite an impression on our boy.
Francesca interprets Goebbels’s German for Shosanna.
I must say, Fräulein, I should be rather annoyed with you.
Francesca interprets…
I arrive in France, and I wish to have lunch with my star…
Francesca interprets…
Little do I know he’s become the toast of Paris, and now he must find time for me.
Francesca interprets…
People wait in line hours, days, to see me. For the Führer and Private Zoller, I wait.
Francesca interprets…
So finally, I’m granted an audience with the young private, and he spends the entire lunch speaking of you and your cinema.
Francesca interprets…
So Fräulein Mimieux, let’s get down to business.
Private Zoller interrupts—
Herr Goebbels, I haven’t informed her yet.
Unless the girl’s a simpleton, I’m sure she’s figured it out by now. After all, she does operate a cinema. Francesca, tell
her.
Francesca tells Shosanna in French:
What they’re trying to tell you, Emmanuelle, is Private Zoller has spent the last hour at lunch, trying to convince Monsieur
Goebbels to abandon previous plans for Private Zoller’s film premiere and change the venue to your cinema.
Zoller reacts.
(FRENCH to Zoller)
What?
I wanted to inform her.
Shit. I apologize, Private. Of course you did.
(GERMAN to Francesca)
What’s the issue?
The young soldier wanted to inform the mademoiselle himself.
Nonsense. Until I ask a few questions, he has nothing to inform. Let the record state, I have not agreed to a venue change.
Duly noted.
Goebbels speaks German to Shosanna:
You have opera boxes?
Oui.
How many?
Three.
More would be better. How many seats in your auditorium?
Three hundred and fifty.
That’s almost four hundred less than The Ritz.
Fredrick jumps in…
But Herr Goebbels, that’s not such a terrible thing. You said yourself you didn’t want to indulge every two-faced French bourgeois
taking up space currying favor. With less seats it makes the event more exclusive. You’re not trying to fill the house, they’re
fighting for seats.
(CON’T)
Besides, to hell with the French. This is a German night, a German event, a German celebration. This night is for you, me,
the German military, the High Command, their family and friends. The only people who should be allowed in the room are people
who will be moved by the exploits onscreen.
Goebbels listens silently, then after a bit of a pause:
I see your public speaking has improved. It appears I’ve created a monster. A strangely persuasive monster. When the war’s
over, politics awaits.
Table chuckles.
Well, Private, though it is true I’m inclined to indulge you anything, I must watch a film in this young lady’s cinema before
I can say yes or no.
(to Shosanna)
So, young lady, you are to close your cinema tonight and have a private screening for me.
Francesca interprets…
What German films do you have?
Francesca asks…
My cinema, on German night, tends to show older German classics.
Francesca interprets…
Why not my films?
Francesca asks… ?
I draw an older German audience in my cinema that appreciates the nostalgia of an earlier time.
Francesca interprets…
That’s nonsense, Fräulein. We Germans are looking forward, not backward.
That era of German cinema is dead.
The German cinema I create will not only be
the
cinema of Europe, but the world’s only alternative to the degenerate Jewish influence of Hollywood.
Fredrick jumps in…
Along with being a cinema owner, Emmanuelle is quite a formidable film critic.
He chuckles, but alone.
So it would appear. Unfortunately for the Fräulein, I’ve outlawed film criticism.
Zoller, thinking fast, says:
Why don’t you screen “Lucky Kids”? I’m sure Emmanuelle hasn’t seen it. And it’s so funny. I’ve been meaning to recommend it
to her, for her German night. That’s a great idea. Let’s watch “Lucky Kids” tonight.
Ahhh, “Lucky Kids,” “Lucky Kids,” “Lucky Kids.” When all is said and done, my most purely enjoyable production. Not only that,
I wouldn’t be surprised if sixty years from now, it’s “Lucky Kids” that I’m the most remembered for. I know it doesn’t seem
like it now, but mark my words.
Very well, I’ll have a print sent over to the Fräulein’s cinema. We’ll screen “Lucky Kids” tonight.
As Francesca interprets this for Shosanna…
the empty chair next to the young Jewish girl is suddenly filled with the bottom half of a gray S.S. officer uniform.
Ah, Landa, you’re here. This is the young lady in question.
The S.S. officer sits down, and it’s our old friend from the first scene, COL. HANS LANDA.
Emmanuelle, this is Col. Hans Landa of the S.S. He’ll be running security for the premiere.
CU SHOSANNA
A bomb is dropped and detonated behind her eyes. But if she gives any indication of this, her war story ends here.
The S.S. OFFICER
who murered her family takes her hand and kisses it, saying in perfect French:
Charmed, Mademoiselle.
Better known as “the Jew Hunter.”
The table laughs.
Oh, Francesca, what was that funny thing the Führer said about Hans?
What thing?
You know, you were there. It was a funny thing the Führer said, about Hans… something about a pig?
Francesca’s memory is jogged.
Oh, yes, of course.
She repeats it by whispering it in Goebbels’s ear.
Oh, yes, of course, that’s it. So the Führer said he wouldn’t be surprised if Hans weren’t rooting out Jews like a truffle
pig from the playpen.
That’s what we need, pigs that can root out Jews.
Who needs pigs when you have me?
Big, hearty laugh around the table.
Do you have an engagement tonight?
Well, as a matter of fact, I do—
—Break it. We’re all going to the fräulein’s cinema tonight to view “Lucky Kids.”
Splendid.
Then the Reich minister’s companion, Mademoiselle Mondino, interrupts:
And now I must get Reich Minister Goebbels to his next appointment.
Slave driver! French slave driver!
They all chuckle.
Everybody begins to stand up from the table…
Francesca gathers the stupid dogs…
As Col. Landa stands, he says:
Actually, in my role as security chief of this joyous German occasion, I’m afraid I must have a word with Mademoiselle Mimieux.
Mademoiselle Mimieux’s eyes go to Private Zoller, who responds.
What sort of discussion?
That sounded suspiciously like a soldier questioning the order of a colonel? Or am I just being sensitive?
Nothing could be further from the truth, Colonel. Your authority is beyond question. But your reputation precedes you. Should
Mademoiselle Mimieux or myself be concerned?
Hans, the boy means no harm, he’s simply smitten. And he’s correct. Your reputation does precede you.
Laughter all around. The Reich minister and his Axis entourage make their way to front of the café, with the two dumb dogs
on a leash, leading the way.
No need for concern, you two. As security chief, I simply need to have a chat with the possible new venue’s property owner.
I was just hoping to escort Mademoiselle Mimieux back to her cinema.
Nonsense! You can eat ice cream and walk along the Seine another time. Right now, allow Col. Landa to do his job.
Everybody says their farewells.
Col. Landa offers the young Jew in hiding a seat at a small table in the outside patio area of Maxim’s.
The fluency and poetic proficiency of the S.S. Jew hunter’s French reveals to the audience that his feigning clumsiness at
French with Monsieur LaPadite in the film’s first scene was simply an interrogation technique.
They speak FRENCH SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH:
Have you tried the strudel here?
No.
It’s not so terrible. So how is it the young private and yourself came to be acquainted?
She’s about to answer when a WAITER approaches.
Yes, two strudels, one for myself and one for the mademoiselle. A cup of espresso, with a container of steamed milk on the
side. For the Mademoiselle, a glass of milk.
Considering that Shosanna grew up on a dairy farm, and the last time she was on a dairy farm her strudel companion murdered
her entire family, his ordering her milk is, to say the least… disconcerting.
The key to Col. Landa’s power and/or charm, depending on the side one’s on, lies in his ability to convince you he’s privy
to your secrets.
The waiter exits.
So, Mademoiselle, you were beginning to explain… ?
(anxiously)
Up until a couple of days ago, I had no knowledge of Private Zoller or his exploits. To me, the private was simply just a
patron of my cinema. We spoke a few times, but—
—Mademoiselle, let me interrupt you. This is a simple formality, no reason for you to feel anxious.
The strudel arrives.
The colonel takes one look at it and says to the waiter:
I apologize. I forgot to order the crème fraîche.