Inglourious Basterds (8 page)

One moment.

He exits.

(referring to the crème.)

Wait for the crème

(back to business)

So, Emmanuelle—May I call you Emmanuelle?

Oui.

So, Emmanuelle, explain to me how does it happen that a young lady such as yourself comes to own a cinema?

The waiter returns, applying crème fraîche to the two strudels.

The S.S. colonel looks across the table at his companion. Picking up his fork, he says:

After you.

Shosanna takes a whipped-creamy bite of strudel. Landa follows her lead.

(mouthful of strudel)

Success?

Shosanna, mouth full of strudel, indicates she approves.

Like I said, not so terrible.

(back to business)

So you were explaining the origin of your cinema ownership?

The cinema originally belonged to my aunt and uncle—

Col. Landa removes a little black book from his pocket.

—What are their names?

Jean-Pierre and Ada Mimieux.

He records the names in his little book.

Where are they now?

My uncle was killed during the blitzkrieg.

Pity… Continue.

Aunt Ada passed away from fever last spring.

Regrettable.

(respectful pause)

It’s come to my attention you have a negro in your employ. Is that true?

Yes, he’s a Frenchman. His name is Marcel. He worked with my aunt and uncle since they opened the cinema. He’s the only other
one who works with me.

Doing what?

Projectionist.

Is he any good?

The best.

Actually, one could see where that might be a good trade for them. Can you operate the projectors?

Of course I can.

Knowing the Reich Minister as I do, I’m quite positive he wouldn’t want the success or failure of his illustrious evening
dependent on the prowess of a negro. So if it comes to pass that we hold this event at your venue—talented, no doubt, as your
negro may be—you will operate the projectors. Is that acceptable?

As if she has any say.

Oui.

Col. Landa takes another bite of strudel, and Shosanna follows suit.

So it would appear our young hero is quite smitten with you?

Private Zoller’s feelings for me aren’t of a romantic nature.

Mademoiselle… ?

Colonel, his feelings are not romantic. I remind him of his sister.

That doesn’t mean his feelings aren’t romantic.

I remind him of his sister who raised him.

It’s sounding more and more romantic by the minute.

Landa takes out a handsome-looking cigarette case, with an S.S. LOGO on it. Removing one of the fags, he lights it up with
a fancy S.S. gold lighter. He offers one to Shosanna.

Cigarette?

No, thank you.

Do you smoke?

Yes.

Then I insist, you must take one. They’re not French, they’re German. I hope you’re not nationalist about your tobacco. To
me, French cigarettes are a sin against nicotine.

She takes one but makes no move to light it.

He inhales deeply and says:

I did have something else I wanted to ask you, but right now, for the life of me, I can’t remember what it is. Oh, well, must
not have been important.

Col. Landa stands up, throws some French francs on the table, puts on his gray S.S. cap, touches his finger to his visor,
saluting Shosanna, and says:

Till tonight.

And with that he’s gone.

Shosanna breaths a sigh of relief.

The CAMERA begins to slowly lower from a MEDIUM CU to her feet and ankles and the floor. We see her shoes are in a puddle
of urine. During her conversation and strudel with the man who exterminated her entire family, Shosanna pissed herself. She
drops the German cigarette into the piss puddle by her feet.

INT—CINEMA AUDITORIUM—NIGHT

The SILVER SCREEN

Onscreen is the German screwball comedy “LUCKY KIDS.”

We hear OFFSCREEN laughter at the onscreen Aryan antics.

CU GOEBBELS

watching the screen, basking in his own toxic genius.

CU FRANCESCA

laughing at the comedy, hand covering her mouth.

CU TWO BLACK POODLES

pantingly watching the screen.

CU MAJOR HELLSTROM

smiling, smoking a German cigarette.

CU COL LANDA

smoking a German cigarette, amused.

CU FREDRICK ZOLLER

truly enjoying himself.

CU SHOSANNA

watching the screen.

The LITERARY NARRATOR comes on the soundtrack.

While Shosanna sits there pretending to be amused by the Aryan antics of Goebbel’s Frank Capra copy “Lucky Kids,” a thought
suddenly comes to her.

We see her face get slightly distracted behind the eyes.

What if tonight, accidently, the cinema burned down? The Third Reich would lose its minister of propaganda, its national hero,
and its top Jew hunter, all in one fell swoop.

She chuckles at THAT thought, though it looks like she’s chuckling at the German comedy.

But then that thought…… led Shosanna To a crazy idea.

The idea flashes on her face. Then Shosanna bursts out laughing.

Zoller looks over at her. Happy. She’s enjoying the movie.

SILVER SCREEN

“The END” card for “Lucky Kids” is projected.

The Nazi rouges’ gallery, and Shosanna, applaud the film.

The lights go up.

Goebbels accepts congratulations, as they stand and begin to file out into the lobby.

The screening of “Lucky Kids” was a complete success. And Herr Goebbels conceded to have the venue changed to Shosanna’s cinema.
Not only that, in a moment of inspiration, Herr Goebbels had an idea.

Goebbels speaks GERMAN, and Francesca translates:

I must say, I appreciate the modesty of this auditorium. Your cinema has real respect, almost churchlike. Not to say we couldn’t
spruce the place up a bit. In Versailles there’s a crystal chandelier hanging in the banquet hall that is extraordinary. We’re
going to get it and hang it from the very middle of the auditorium roof. Also I want to go to the Louvre, pick up a few Greek
nudes, and just scatter them about the lobby.

MONTAGE

We see a quick series of shots that show all that happening.

The chandelier being removed from the ceiling of Versailles.

Greek nude statues being hand-trucked out of the Louvre.

A truck driving through the French countryside with the enormous crystal chandelier in the back.

The lobby of Shosanna’s cinema, pimped out in Nazi iconography. WORKERS buzz around decorating. The Greek statues are moved
into place.

We see workers trying with incredible difficulty to hoist the huge, heavy, and twinkingly fragile chandelier in Shosanna’s
auditorium, which now resembles something out of one of Tinto Brass’s Italian B-movie ripoffs of Visconti’s “The Damned.”

SHOSANNA

watches all this from an opera box. She shakes her head in disbelief.

BACK TO SHOSANNA AND THE NAZIS

in the lobby, post screening of “Lucky Kids.” She’s soundlessly escorting them to the door as they make their good-byes.

As they left the little French cinema that night, all the Germans were very happy…

We see Pvt. Zoller hanging back, so he can say good-bye.

None more so than Fredrick Zoller.

She closes the door on him, watching the Nazis walk into Paris night. Their shadows for a moment on the wall, look like grotesque
Nazi caricatures.

The Nazis are gone.

Marcel sits at the top of the staircase of the lobby, looking down at Shosanna.

They speak in FRENCH SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH:

What the fuck are we supposed to do?

It looks like we’re supposed to have a Nazi premiere.

Like I said, what the fuck are we supposed to do?

Well, I need to speak with you about that.

About what?

About these Hun swine, commandeering our cinema.

What about it?

She slowly walks up the stairs to Marcel. She makes him part his legs and sits on the lower step, between his legs, her back
up against his chest, his arms around her shoulders, Shosanna has only known this type of intimacy with Marcel.

Well, when I was watching that Boche

(said in English)

Capra-corn abomination,

(back to French)

I got an idea.

I’m confused. What are we talking about?

Filling the cinema with Nazis and their whores, and burning it down to the ground.

I’m not talking about that. You’re talking about that.

No,
we’re
talking about that, right now. If we can keep this place from burning down by ourselves, we can
burn
it down by ourselves.

Shosanna—

No, Marcel, just for the sake of argument, if we wanted to burn down the cinema for any number of reasons, you and I could
physically accomplish that, no?

Oui, Shosanna, we
could
do that.

And with Madame Mimieux’s three hundred and fifty nitrate film print collection, we wouldn’t even need explosives, would we?

You mean we wouldn’t need any more explosives?

Oui, that’s exactly what I mean.

She begins kissing his hands.

(CON’T)

I am going to burn down the cinema on Nazi night.

One of his fingers probes her mouth.

(CON’T)

And if I’m going to burn down the cinema, which I am, we both know you’re not going to let me do it by myself.

The back of her head presses up hard against him, as his hand both caresses and grips her lovely neck.

(CON’T)

Because you love me. And I love you. And you’re the only person on this earth I can trust.

She then TWISTS around so she’s straddling him. They are now face to face.

(CON’T)

But that’s not all we’re going to do. Does the filmmaking equipment in the attic still work? I know the film camera does.
How about the sound recorder?

Quite well, actually. I recorded a new guitarist I met in a café last week. It works superb. Why do we need filmmaking equipment?

Because Marcel, my sweet, we’re going to make a film. Just for the Nazis.

She gives him a deep French kiss.

FADE TO BLACK

BLACK FRAME

CHAPTER TITLE APPEARS:

FADE OFF

INT—ENGLISH COUNTRY ESTATE—DAY

A young MILITARY ATTACHÉ opens the sliding double doors that serve as an entrance to the room.

Right this way, Lieutenant.

A snappy, handsome British lieutenant in dress brown steps inside the room. This officer, who has been mixing it up with the
Gerrys since the late thirties, is LT. ARCHIE HICOX, a young George Sanders type (“The Saint” and “Private Affairs of Bel
Ami” years).

Upon entering the room, Lt. Hicox is gobsmacked.

Standing before him is legendary military mastermind GEN. ED FENECH, an older George Sanders type (“Village of the Damned”).

But in the back of the room, sitting behind a piano, smoking his ever-present cigar, is the unmistakable bulk of WINSTON CHURCHILL.

The lieutenant was not expecting him.

Hicox salutes the general.

Lieutenant Hicox reporting, sir.

(salutes back)

General Ed. Fenech. At ease, Hicox. Drink?

Hicox’s eyes go to the formidable bulldog behind the piano, who’s scrutinizing him behind his cigar. However, the man behind
the cigar makes no gesture, and the general makes no acknowledgment of the three-hundred-pound gorilla in the room. Which
Lt. Hicox knows enough to mean, if Churchill isn’t introduced, he ain’t there.

If you offered me a scotch and plain water, I could drink a scotch and plain water.

That a boy, Lieutenant. Make it yourself, like a good chap, will you? Bar’s in the globe.

Hicox heads over to the bar globe.

Something for yourself, sir?

Whiskey straight. No junk in it.

The lieutenant moves over to the Columbus-style globe bar and busies himself mixing spirits, playing bartender chappy.

Fenech, eyeing the lieutenant’s file.

It says here you’ve run three undercover commando operations in Germany and German-occupied territories? Frankfurt, Holland,
and Norway, to be exact?

Back to them, mixing drinks, he says:

Extraordinary people, the Norwegians.

It says here you speak German fluently?