Lost Zweig (2002) Movie Script
"THE LAST DAYS OF
STEFAN ZWEIG IN BRAZIL"
Exile is the word
they give to nightmare.
I fled to Paris, to London.
But everywhere I went,
Gestapo thugs followed me.
My name is Stefan Zweig.
And this is the story of the
strangest week of my life.
I first came to Brazil in 1936...
and immediately fell in love
with the country.
By comparison,
Europe was about to destroy itself.
If and earthly paradise exists,
then it can't be far from Brazil.
Last year,
exhausted and disillusioned...
I went back with
my second wife, Lotte.
But it was a different Brazil
that I arrived in.
And, besides, one can never
really escape from a nightmare.
Cheers!
To carnival.
And to Brazil!
Not now, Hubert.
Thank you.
Come on, Herr Zweig!
Let's forget about
all the work and politics.
I'm going to take you to see
something unforgettable.
To Brazil!
To the eternal
"land of the future"!
Please, Hubert, I wrote that book
before I came to live here.
Sorry.
I didn't mean to...
They really dance
through the streets naked?
You won't believe your eyes.
The whole world is turned
upside down!
It all sounds so savage!
Hubert, must you?
Sorry, it's a habit.
Stop that, please!
Listen, Herr Zweig, you're right.
This is a wonderful country.
But the Brazilian intellectuals...
are either Stalinists
or fervent Catholics.
And most of them,
even the communists...
remain dictatorship's hostage.
Hardly a democrat among them.
Just a bunch of nationalist pigmies!
All they want is their job...
and someone to think for them.
So, why be so surprised
with their criticism?
This country and its government
have treated us well.
I should think we owed them
a debt of gratitude.
The Brazilian society
is not as open and free...
as they'd have you believe.
How is your health, Lotte?
It doesn't matter where I am.
I still have my attacks.
This is a time of celebration...
yet we insist on discussing
disease and tyranny.
Herr Zweig...
just because Vargas
has given you your visa...
don't think he will
automatically support...
your request for
a Jewish homeland.
Don't forget that Salazar
turned down your same request...
for a Jewish homeland
in Portuguese Africa.
I'm fully aware
of how dictatorships work.
But I sense Vargas is different.
Besides, Brazil is a continent.
I'm sure he will back my request.
Please, Herr Zweig, be careful.
Don't imagine for one moment
that Vargas protects Jews.
You and a handful of others
are useful exceptions.
Of course, he wants to look tolerant,
especially by the Americans.
And dictators, they are all flirting
with Hitler and Mussolini.
Hubert!
I'm sorry.
It's stuck. It's stuck!
- Sorry.
- Stefan, it's all right.
Stop it, Hubert!
For God's sake!
- Turn it off!
- Stop it!
Turn it off!
It's okay, Stefan.
It's okay.
My dear friend,
please forgive me.
I don't know what is wrong
with me these days.
Perhaps it's old age.
No, Herr Zweig.
Don't say such things.
In fact, I don't think
you've ever looked so good.
Really!
- You're very kind.
- Well, let's go!
Tomorrow we have
carnival to celebrate.
The President of the Republic,
Dr. Getlio Vargas...
welcomes the eminent
Austrian writer...
Dr. Stefan Zweig, to Brazil.
The Minister for Press and
Propaganda, Dr. Lauro Pontes...
was in charge of protocol...
and introduced the celebrity
to the Head of Government.
Dr. Zweig, accompanied by his wife...
and by his Brazilian publisher,
Sr. Jonas Faerman...
presented the President with
a copy of his popular publication...
"Brazil: Land of the Future"...
inscribed with a special dedication
to president Vargas.
The President wished the
well-known author a happy stay...
and urged him to write
further books...
to the glory of his
new home - Brazil.
Sing! Sing! Chop-chop!
Sing! Sing!
Good, very good!
Once more!
Stefan Zweig!
Jesus, Stefan Zweig, here!
It's you!
What a marvelous coincidence!
Stefan Zweig at carnival in Rio!
Believe me, Mr. Zweig...
when I got off the plane,
I said to my producer:
"Get me an interview
with Stefan Zweig.
He's a sublime writer.
I must talk to him. "
But your agent or somebody
said you were...
unavailable.
That's very kind of you, Mr. Welles.
You know, they are
boycotting my pictures.
Here it's Vargas...
back home,
it's Rockefeller and RKO studios.
Everything is tough!
I'm being censored.
So now they send me here...
to film the Brazil of the postcards,
the scenic Brazil.
But me, I want to shoot
the real people, the slums...
the black guys, the black girls!
Specially the black girls.
The people are what make
a country special.
Oh yes, Mr. Zweig! Yes!
Everything I learned about Brazil
I learned from your book.
It's a masterpiece.
No other foreigner knows Brazil,
understands Brazil like you.
And I say that to anyone
who cares to listen.
It's no secret:
your book is the inspiration
for my picture.
George! The book!
Thanks!
See?
So long, Mr. Zweig.
And enjoy your paradise!
And my congratulations for
having such a beautiful wife!
Stefan, are you coming?
Am I forgetting anyone, Lotte?
Why don't you take a break?
You've gone over and over
the list for days.
I'll have plenty of time to rest
when our friends are here...
and safe with us.
Now... who have I missed?
What about the Feinbergs?
I've got the Feinbergs... here.
Stefan...?
There must be someone
we are forgetting.
There must be someone
we are forgetting!
Stefan, wanting to play chess
against yourself...
involves a real paradox.
It's like jumping over one's shadow.
"Nothing on earth puts more pressure
on the human spirit than a vacuum. "
"Nothing on earth puts more pressure
on the human spirit than a vacuum. "
Hello?
Who is it?
Who was it?
Nobody, dear.
Wrong number.
God!
My God!
My God!
Stefan, are you going out?
Yes, I've arranged to meet up
with young Davila. Remember him?
The young journalist Faerman...
introduced us to in
the palace of Vargas.
I think he's looking
for an interview.
Okay.
But don't be late, please.
Of course not.
Ten o'clock sharp.
By the way, have you finished...
my notes on Montaigne?
So, Herr Zweig...
what a wonderful work
are you writing now?
I have very few rules about writing,
dear young fellow...
but one of them is never
talk about a work in progress.
You can't even
give me a little clue?
Perhaps it's another book
about Brazil?
This beautiful land
where the future never arrives.
Have you ever heard
of Montaigne's "Essays"?
Voluntary death instead of being
forced to submit to servitude...
to moral and ideological
slavery. No?
No, I'm afraid not.
Tell me, Alberto, do you have
access to "me-de-santo"?
Herr Zweig, it is highly illegal.
The government forbids Umbanda.
I didn't ask you for the party line,
I'm simply wondering if you know one.
I know of somebody
who might help.
I'll see what I can do.
How beautiful
you are tonight, Leonie.
Sorry, I meant you're
as beautiful as ever!
Thank you, darling.
Look, tell Yolanda that her
cuddly favorite has come back.
Look, that American, Welles.
You see, Mr. Zweig?
I carry it wherever I go!
One night in NY, I drank...
I literally drank your book...
your love poem to Brazil...
along with two bottles
of Wild Turkey!
Naturally I pissed out
that poisonous bourbon...
but your description of paradise
stayed right here...
and right here.
I was almost born in Brazil.
Did you know that?
No. But thank you for your
kind words, Mr. Welles.
I just wrote what I saw and felt.
Besides, paradise is only possible
when you look back.
And don't we do that
everyday of our lives?
Mr. Zweig... "tudo Brazil"!
- This means "all is Brazil"...
- I know, I know.
...the wonderful country
of the world!
All is Brazil!
All is Brazil!
Good evening.
Good evening.
Every time I see these
poor Jewish girls...
my heart sinks.
That's life, my dear.
What could we do to help them?
Nothing!
The Jews themselves exploit them.
You know,
Welles practically lives here.
He has fallen in love
with our black girls.
If you don't enjoy life, my dear,
it becomes mournful.
Good evening.
You look gorgeous.
In Brazil we say that
men who sleep with whores...
are the most faithful
to their wives.
She is ready for you.
You just cares
about luxury and wealth
Everything you see you want
Oh my God
How I miss Amelia
That's what you can call a woman
Amelia had no vanity at all
Amelia was a true woman
Amelia had no vanity at all
Amelia was a true woman
Amelia had no vanity at all
Amelia was a true woman
Stefan?
Who is this?
Leave us alone!
Well, Herr Zweig, this is me here.
- I go up there.
- Yes...
- You will be okay on your own?
- Fine, my boy. Fine.
You're really too kind
and generous to me.
Don't worry.
My dear, sweet young man, forgive me.
I... I didn't..
Good night.
Welcome home, Stefan.
Petropolis,
perhaps our home forever.
It's not Salzburg nor London...
but we are alive.
Frederica...
Frederica...
"So many storms,
such destruction at sea...
and within each wave
seen death's own eyes. "
"So many storms,
such destruction at sea...
and within each wave
seen death's own eyes.
All the wars on land,
such hypocrisy...
this disgusting,
compulsive enterprise!
Is there a refuge for human frailty?
Some safe port for our
ephemeral lives...
where serene skies unleash
no well-armed squall...
to rage against creatures...
that are so small?"
Good morning,
Frau Lotte, Herr Zweig.
- Sorry for being late.
- It doesn't matter, Lourdes.
Thank you.
"No further resistance possible.
The whole British Empire hears
news with deepest mourning. "
Excuse me.
What a disaster!
Singapore is now in the hand
of the Japanese.
The whole world is at war...
a war we are surely losing.
And I have to go and
see that Pontes fellow!
I don't know what
you're worrying about.
He seemed a nice man to me.
Why on earth does he want
to see me this morning of all days?
He knows I have
tonight's lecture to prepare.
Please, try to stop
fussing all the time.
Perhaps Pontes wants
to discuss the visas.
Besides, don't forget:
we are just guests
here in this country.
Herr Zweig.
Pleased to meet you.
Take a seat, please.
Santos Dumont
is a grand Brazilian.
He solved the mystery of flight
before the Wright brothers.
Brazilians, you see, not Americans...
were the first humans to fly.
So you say, yes...
Herr Zweig, I'm sure...
you didn't know everything
about Erasmus, Fouch...
Americo Vespucci,
Marie Antoinette...
Kleist, and yet you researched...
and look what wonderful
biographies you produced!
I was interested
in such characters.
Let me explain something
to you, Herr Zweig.
Just for your own good,
you understand.
Brazil is an open country...
made up of all races and creeds,
including Jews...
who live in harmony
with each other.
But we are also trying
to build a new country...
and it is very important how we
are seen by the rest of the world.
That Orson Welles character,
for example.
The Americans think
we are ignorant and stupid.
And they send that...
that communist to film our slums...
to film the worst aspects
of carnival...
a bunch of niggers jumping up
and down like the Devil himself!
Forgive me, but...
is this president Roosevelt's
good neighbor policy?
To blacken the name
of our government...
telling Americans that Brazil
is the Eldorado of poverty...
lust and decadence?
Mr. Pontes,
I understand your concern...
but, really, I cannot abide...
simply cannot write to order.
Are you afraid of losing your
readership in the US, Herr Zweig?
But, of course, take your time.
I'm simply a middleman,
a messenger of the President's will.
Mr. Pontes...
I thought we were meeting
to discuss the visas...
your government promised.
Oh yes,
for your Jewish friends in Germany.
Herr Zweig...
forgive me, but these are
troubling times for us all.
The world is at war.
The President promised
almost two months ago.
They may not survive
for much longer!
Just one more thing,
Herr Zweig, about this book.
Santos Dumont's death.
Perhaps you should omit...
that one unholy matter.
To put it in a nutshell, Herr Zweig:
no one, in Vargas's Brazil
kills himself.
Like all geniuses of his kind...
my eulogy may cause
this talented Austrian...
of noble lineage
some embarrassment.
But I need not tell you
what an honor it is...
to have this rare opportunity...
to hear the man who "reinvented"
our country with his book...
"Brazil: Land of the Future".
Stefan Zweig...
is an example of the unyielding,
unbendable intellectual.
This man is an example of
resistance and moral coherence...
when many others prefer
to conform or abandon ship.
This man is a true champion.
Please let's welcome
Herr Stefan Zweig!
Please, girls. Please. Hurry up.
Hurry, hurry! Quickly.
Thank you. You can put it here.
There. Thank you.
In these times...
we live through
facts excessively quickly...
and we live through
too many facts...
to remember them properly.
I am unable to identify...
the "I" of my passport...
with that of the writer
in permanent exile.
A man without a country,
ironically, is a free man.
Our country has been taken
by your pal Vargas!
He's right!
Put yourself in our place!
Some of you...
question my devotion to freedom.
Well, I've always spoken
publicly against oppression...
against the violence
that dictatorships wield.
Against the suppression of freedom...
which I have known, believe me,
all too frequently in my life.
I have no freedom!
What about Vargas?!
It is impossible for anyone
to remove himself from the world.
- Quiet!
- Respect!
But I think an artist should
never subjugate himself...
to any party or
to the ideology in fashion.
He who allows himself
to think freely...
honors freedom on earth.
Jew, out!
My book has been misunderstood.
It's so unfair. Don't they see
he's telling the truth?
Lotte, it's unbelievable!
Utterly disgusting!
Please, Stefan, get off the stage.
You don't deserve this.
I'm just a poet.
There are no campaigns,
no praise in my book.
I've seen good and bad
and I've written about both.
What about political prisoners?
Why don't you challenge
Vargas's dictatorship?
Tell him to stop!
Tell him to stop talking.
This is absurd!
Go home, Jew!
Thank you, Herr Zweig,
for such a stimulating speech.
The greatest task in life
is to know how to be yourself!
Get out of here!
Vargas's lackey!
It was a shambles!
I was a disaster.
No, Stefan, you did right.
You stood your ground.
Do they really believe that
I'm one of Vargas's lackeys?
That I actually support
this dictatorship?
They just don't understand you.
What they say about Vargas
is true, it's undeniable.
But does it impede me
to do business with him?
No. I must keep
pushing him and Pontes.
If I distance myself of the regime,
it will never happen.
Now they want that rotten book!
God!
I don't know, maybe we should
have stayed in Europe.
Maybe we could have done more there.
Stefan, my dear.
What practical good could you
have done back home?
You work here
is far more important.
Your words are your weapons, darling.
You are fighting!
Maybe you are right.
Now, please, come to bed.
You must sleep.
Tomorrow we have
that awful visit...
to the Immigration Office
with Faerman.
In a moment, dear.
In a moment.
You're a great man, Stefan.
I love you.
Now, don't worry, Herr Zweig,
Frau Zweig.
This is just a way for Pontes
to show off his power.
It's a regular procedure...
concerning all German
and Italian immigrants.
But with the Jews
he's always extra vigilant.
I'm glad to hear
he's so concerned about us.
This way, please.
Thank you. Thank you.
Each month you must come
and present yourself...
to just that you are still here
and still alive.
You see, Herr Zweig?
Pontes wants you alive.
Amusing, how very amusing.
In tsarist Russia,
it was only the prostitutes...
who received yellow cards.
Please, Herr Zweig,
that's a bit strong!
Really, Stefan...
must you behave
like an anxious little boy?
Lotte, please,
try to understand...
she's my only source
of intellectual material.
Is it from Frederica again?
- Good morning, Herr Zweig.
- Good morning.
Good morning, Herr Zweig.
A special delivery from NY.
I'm sorry. It's open.
You can't image how exciting it is.
The mail is my only link
left with the outside world...
if some government censor
gets to read it first.
I understand.
- See you.
- See you, Herr Zweig.
"Dear Steffi,
it was good to hear from you.
Here are the books
on Montaigne you requested.
I searched every bookstore
in NY for them.
It's freezing here now.
How I miss Salzburg!
It's good to know that distance
has not separated our hearts.
I forgive you for leaving me...
but has not forgotten
the pain you caused.
The chapters of your
autobiography I received...
tell me little of you...
hiding once again behind History.
It's a pity, I'm sad to say...
but you have forgotten me, too.
Even so, I still love you...
even desire you sometimes.
Love and kisses, Frederica. "
Lotte!
Lotte, can't you control
that bloody wretched dog?!
Lotte!
"My darling Fritzi,
what a pleasure it was...
to receive your letter
and the books...
for which I send you many thanks.
Letters are getting fewer.
It seems my friends
have forgotten me.
Here, we are having a wonderful
carnival week...
an extraordinary, magical,
sensual event.
But my mind is far away
from such things.
I cannot let
myself be swept along by...
this wave of pleasure
and drunkenness.
The catastrophe back home
makes all joy impossible.
You'll be happy to know
I'm writing again.
It's a strange novel...
like nothing I've written before...
about this game which
has no element of luck. "
Should I get it?
No, no.
I will take it.
Yes?
Stefan, is president Vargas!
Hurray, Lotte! We've succeeded!
We've succeeded!
The President is
in the fountain garden...
at this moment, with the pupils
of the Public Junior School.
At one-thirty pm, lunch will be served
in the President's private dining room...
but he wishes you to join him
first in the garden.
After lunch, you'll be driven home.
Mr. Zweig, I hope you do
enjoy your conversation...
with our grand leader.
Madam. Sir.
Vargas! Vargas!
Vargas! Vargas!
You can go, please.
Herr Zweig, Frau Zweig...
...what a wonderful surprise!
- Mr. President.
Those children, Herr Zweig,
are the future of Brazil...
and they have inherited
a proud past.
This country has never been
stronger than it is right now.
My government is here
for all people...
not just for the elite.
Yet I'm still criticized, Herr Zweig.
Can you explain that to me?
With respect, Mr. President...
you have also abolished
all opposition parties.
Yes, the communists
and the fascists.
You censor the newspapers...
and you imprison those
who speak out against you.
Herr Zweig, have I imprisoned you?
Did you not speak badly
of my regime in public?
Since the First World War...
only the US has taken more
of your people to live...
and earn money than Brazil.
Did you know that?
So?
I really appreciate your continued
consideration of the visas...
which, I believe,
are yet to be sent.
Yes, yes.
Please, let's listen to the music.
My God!
You know...
us Brazilians are
a very mystical people.
Like anybody else, I'm both
a skeptic and a believer...
in signs and messages.
Do you dream often, Herr Zweig?
I do.
I'm having awful nightmares.
Have you ever dreamt
of being dead?
Or even taking your own life?
It's terrible...
believe me.
Mr. President, forgive me...
but they say that one dreams
of one's own death...
it means you will have
a long life...
that death is still far away.
Perhaps, Frau Zweig, perhaps.
But I worry about...
about my future...
and about the future
of this country.
I am Brazil and Brazil is me!
It's an incarnation of my strength,
of my will.
I'm afraid that death
will grasp me...
and all my plans and projects
for my people...
will disappear with me.
My friends,
perhaps I'm being too dramatic!
No, not at all, Mr. President.
Tell me, Herr Zweig...
how is the research
on Santos Dumont coming along?
Pontes told me you've taken
to the idea...
of writing his biography.
Not a word about the visas.
Damn Vargas!
He's like Salazar: only words,
promises, dissimulation.
The Portuguese are masters
in dissimulation...
and Vargas is an excellent pupil.
So...
Now... am I supposed to become
a mere court scribe...
bargaining for lives according
to the wishes of the little dictator?
To hell with
Santos Dumont's flight!
Stefan, please speak low.
Him and that worm of his, Pontes...
think they can force me
to write what they want!
She's saying that
she has been waiting for you.
So much running from yourself...
from your people.
You must heal your soul
of bad thoughts.
Your pan is not here.
On the other side of the earth...
that's where your devils lie.
An older woman is going
around your head.
She's calling you...
while the other one means
a Calvary for you.
She senses...
you have dark plans in your mind.
You should turn your back
for all this.
You should find a new
direction in your life.
She's saying that
after we die...
we enter a time that existed
before we were born.
Therefore, what importance
can have death?
She's asking you
to listen carefully:
no one dies before his time.
They'd given me the day off.
Such nice people.
But this...
this is awful!
How could she know of these things?
There were moments when
I felt was reciting...
passages from Montaigne's
"Essays".
Reincarnation is an important
part of Umbanda.
Our other lives in other eras...
even in other planets,
they affect this one.
Maybe she was reading my mind.
Maybe it was telepathy.
I have Montaigne in me
from head to toe...
I even dream about his thoughts.
But I suppose telepathy is no more
plausible than reincarnation.
Just does make sense.
These things cannot be explained...
in the light of reason, Herr Zweig.
Either you accept them
or you don't.
I believe in them and
it's sometimes frightening.
Their powers of premonition
are terrifying.
It means that
everything is preordained...
that everything is
already said and done.
That's one of the reasons
I stay away from it.
Please, you don't believe that,
do you?
That everything is all laid-out?
No, I don't.
And that's a problem.
Our belief system can't
explain what happened.
We shun the inexplicable,
they embrace it.
Who's to say who's right?
I'm sure they find our believes
just as baffling.
They live in one world,
we live in another.
But last night
the two worlds met...
and it was more exhilarating
than either one alone.
You should have
seen you face, Stefan.
It was like you were
somewhere else.
How could she know about
my most intimate past?
How could she?
A toast...
to Stefan Zweig,
the voodoo Jew of Brazil!
Cheers!
I admit I am defending
a serious breach of doctrine...
but Herr Zweig is a special case.
He has offended a natural law:
"God gives and
only God takes away".
It applies to all
of God's people...
but, gentlemen...
Herr Zweig was one
of our greatest.
He attempted to safeguard
our History...
our culture in his work.
But my only fear, Sholem,
is that it will set a bad example.
By allowing him to be buried
in the Jewish cemetery..
we will make an example
of his life rather than his death.
The Jewish community
will be watching.
A proper burial
is a more fitting end...
than the one he chose for himself.
I agree with Sholem.
Now more than ever,
we must look after our own.
Herr Zweig should be buried
in the Jewish cemetery here in Rio.
Agreed?
Very well then.
Now we must go to Petropolis
and tell them our decision.
But we have a problem to face:
Herr Zweig was affiliated
with the Vargas regime.
Thank God you're here!
We're having
a terrible time in there.
Even when he's dead,
Herr Zweig is a victim of injustice!
They're using him
as a political football!
Who's responsible
for the funeral rites?
- We'll sort it out right now.
- His coffin! His coffin is open!
There are flowers and wreaths
all over the place!
It's an absurd!
What are we going to do?
Calm down.
Calm down, Mr...?
Teitelbaum.
Israel Teitelbaum.
Mr. Teitelbaum...
let's try to resolve
this peacefully.
As Jews, we must take great care.
By all means, rabbi, by all means.
Rabbi.
Excuse me, rabbi Pech.
I'm sorry, but the request
of the government authorities...
I would like your approval.
I have already agreed to send the
bodies to a non-Jewish cemetery...
...here in Petropolis.
- No, no, no!
We've come all the way from Rio
to grant the Zweigs burial...
on sacred Jewish ground.
They will be buried in Rio,
in the Jewish cemetery.
Really, Rabbi Koning!
Wherever a Jew is buried
the ground itself becomes blessed.
Mr. Pontes, I am here on behalf
of the Jewish community...
Mr. Pech...
did Herr Zweig leave any instructions
as to where he wanted to be buried?
- Not that I know of, but...
- Without explicit instructions...
the matter is far from settled.
Herr Zweig was a prominent member
of the Jewish community.
President Vargas wants
to honor Herr Zweig...
and his wife with
a proper State burial...
here in Petropolis.
Now, as far as I know,
and I knew Herr Zweig quite well...
he never made a point
of his Judaism.
In fact, I am surprised
by your zeal.
They will be buried here,
Mr. Pech, not in Rio.
As for Herr Zweig's religious
practices, Mr. Pontes...
they are better left
to heavenly judgment.
His burial should be decided
by the community.
I believe I can resolve
this dispute.
These are Herr Zweig's
last wishes...
written in his own hand
the day before yesterday.
"I wish to be buried
with full Jewish rites...
in a small, simple ceremony
in my beloved Rio de Janeiro. "
So, there you have it.
The ghost of Herr Zweig
affirms his faith.
He is Jewish, Mr. Pontes.
And we, the rabbis,
will allow him to be buried...
in the Jewish cemetery in Rio.
I saw him only yesterday.
He said he was going on a journey.
Maybe he was trying
to send a message...
and we didn't get it.
- Do you know how they did it?
- No.
There are rumors that
they took rat poison...
God!
...but Vargas has forbidden
an autopsy.
He claims that he wants
to respect their privacy.
Dictatorships don't like autopsies.
Poor Lotte!
She was so young,
and such a good companion.
I don't know what could
have been so bad...
as to make them do this.
You know when I first knew
the real Stefan Zweig?
When I read your biography
of that suicidal poet, Kleist.
I thought, this man must
have died once...
to have so much understanding
and empathy.
It's a blessing we're together.
"Now it's all in order.
The eternal intranquillity
is at peace.
That which is destroyed finds itself
in complete union with the world.
Because only he who has
been torn to pieces...
feels the desire for perfection. "
"Eventually my frenzy
mounted...
during the game itself.
I did nothing else from
morning to night...
to such a pitch that I couldn't
sit still anymore.
The driving desire to win,
to dominate, to defeat myself...
gradually became
a kind of madness.
How this horrible, unspeakable
situation came to a head...
I cannot tell you myself.
All I know is that
I woke up one morning...
and the process was
suddenly different.
It was as though
I was outside of my body.
I don't know how much thought
I've given...
to the intellectual character
of this royal game.
But it's absurd,
logically speaking...
to want to play against yourself. "
"Dear President Vargas...
the delicious lunch
was only matched by the sight...
of those wonderful
Brazilian children.
I must return,
however, to a graver topic...
namely the matter of the homeland.
The slaughter of Jews continues.
My personal, lifelong dream of
a free, united, democratic Europe...
a continent without passports,
has been snuffed out.
Barbarism is everywhere. "
I appeal to you once again
to approve our plan...
for a Jewish homeland in Brazil...
an act of humanity
which would give life...
to those who face certain death!
Good morning, miss.
Good morning.
- How are you today?
- I'm very well, thank you.
And thank you for the lovely gift.
It's the least I could do.
I think I'd like
to buy some stamps.
How about three sheets?
Three sheets?
My! You must have many friends.
Can I get the ones with the animals
and the birds on them?
They really are beautiful,
aren't they?
Yes, they are.
But they're only stamps.
The real ones are all around us...
and I would rather see
the real thing.
- Goodbye.
- Bye!
Well, but Brazil has been
such a wonderful new home...
for some many refugees.
And not just now,
but for more than a hundred years.
It's a country of immigrants.
Do you really believe
that it's been...
a welcoming home for the Jews?
Well, yes. Yes, look at us!
Aren't we doing okay?
Mr. Faerman,
don't you think it's time...
to take off your rosy glasses?
Look here,
you were treated differently.
As Jews, you arrived with money,
with contact, with education.
What about the
hundreds of Jewish prostitutes...
in the streets of Mangue's brothel?
Brazil hasn't been good to them.
Jewish prostitutes?
It's true.
These women were brought
to Brazil from Poland...
your country, Lotte...
from France, from Germany,
brought under false pretenses.
Have you ever heard of the Tzi Migdal,
the Jewish crime syndicate?
They are responsible for it.
A member of the organization
proposes to a young woman...
she accepts,
they travel to South America...
to begin a new life, and when
they arrive, the trick is revealed.
She is forced into prostitution.
That's horrible!
Someone should do something about it.
It's not possible.
The Tzi Migdal is too powerful.
"Let there not be a whore
amongst the daughters of Israel!"
Stefan!
What? It's a fact.
Jewish prostitutes
are made by Jews.
We seem to be the whipping whores
of the world these days...
and still we are punished
by our own people.
Attention to this newsflash:
a German submarine has attacked
the Brazilian steamship Buarque...
off the coast of the US today.
The brutal and coward aggression
has caused many deaths.
This is the first reprisal
by the Axis Alliance...
since diplomatic relations
of the Brazilian government...
with German and Italy
were broken last month.
The war has reached paradise.
When we left Liverpool for NY...
the ship's captain
visited our cabin.
He explained that our trip would be
a highly dangerous one.
The sea was full
of Nazi submarines.
Stefan and I knew that,
but we listened to him...
not really understanding
where he was getting at.
Then, without any
further explanation...
he deposited two little capsules
in Stefan's hand.
He said he had to do it...
and had already done so
with most of the other passengers.
It was his duty,
but it was an official matter.
In case of attack, each of us
would have the chance...
I think I meant "choice"...
to die by swallowing
the cyanide capsules...
rather than being drowned
or captured.
This world of ours
can be a peaceful world
As in this night
when people everywhere
Gather in prayer
to our Lord above
Most guiding light
shows us the way to love
This silent night
The world of ours is one
And everywhere
the hand of God's become
The greatest might
our world has ever known
The wondrous sight
No one is not alone
Stefan is unhappy and
there's nothing I can do about it.
Maybe he needs to be left alone.
But it's getting worse.
What if I were to lose him?
Lose him?
I think the guilt is driving him away.
He's closing in on himself.
Lotte, we are all suffering
from this war, being in exile...
but we shouldn't feel guilty
about being alive.
We are alive, but we are orphans.
The last thing we have
is each other.
And that's what I don't want
to lose, what I can't lose...
and I am losing him.
Is he planning on leaving?
Do you know that he once
asked Frederica to die with him?
The answer was...
"If you want to die,
do it by yourself.
Why do you need company?"
I'm sorry, but it's just so true!
It's okay, really.
It doesn't matter.
Come here.
Look what I've brought you, honey.
This is the world...
your world...
the world beyond Brazil.
What?
You don't like them?
No, they are beautiful.
The world that
you'll never see again.
Never again.
But that will be good for me
because I will have you forever.
Sorry. I'm joking.
I'm just feeling giddy.
I said I'd write
your Santos Dumont book.
Now, where are the visas?
Just tell your people
to do something.
Now! Or else...
Or else what, Herr Zweig?
You won't write the book?
But you yourself said
they are two separate issues.
The truth is you need to write a
successful book in this country.
"Brazil: Land of the Future"
was an enormous success here...
it sold hundreds
of thousands of copies.
Even that walking cash register
Faerman was thrilled.
Oh, Faerman!
A very good salesman.
You're lucky to have him
working for you.
Now, Pontes,
Faerman is not the point.
But he is, Herr Zweig, he is.
Who do you think
bought all those copies?
You honestly think that, in a
country of millions of illiterate...
many Brazilians were interested
in the opinions of a foreigner?
What?
Let me show you something, Herr
Zweig, just between the two of us.
Please.
Look, Herr Zweig.
I mean...
you couldn't...
Couldn't what, Herr Zweig?
You couldn't!
They had a saying in England
which I always liked very much.
Now I'm not so sure.
They used to say,
there's no fool like an old fool.
Lotte? You startled me.
What are you still doing up?
You know I can't sleep
until you're home.
I'm sorry, dear.
It's just that I got distracted
with that vile creature Pontes.
God! I'm beginning
to hate that man.
He's so slimy that he leaves a trail.
I know.
It's okay.
Let's get you to bed.
Stefan?
Stefan?
Lunch is ready.
God, the water is
practically freezing.
We have just received word...
that the Germans are refusing
to recognize the visas.
After Pearl Harbor, you know,
everything became more difficult.
They will not allow your friends
to leave for Brazil.
It's out of our hands, Herr Zweig.
There's nothing more we can do.
But we have already tried again.
The war is changing.
This was our last and final chance.
I'm afraid that won't be possible.
The President is in negotiation
with the Americans...
for the next two weeks.
If you had some sort of arrangement
with president Vargas...
I have not been made aware of it.
So, we'll take up this matter
another time.
For now,
I'll let you go back to sleep.
Good night, Herr Zweig.
God, why have you forsaken us?
How could I have trusted
a dictator again?
I'm so ashamed!
Damn Salazar!
Damn Vargas!
Idiot!
What an idiot you are, Zweig!
They are dead.
They're all dead.
The Cohens...
The Fleishers...
The Brauns...
all of them...
What do you mean, Stefan?
How do you know?
Because Pontes told me...
that the Nazis
won't recognize the visas.
That's if Pontes ever
even sent them!
So that's the end of it for them.
- But the President...
- Vargas?
That spineless creature,
that dissimulated character?
As far as he's concerned,
we don't exist anymore either.
Why did I marry you?
Was I lying to myself?
God! How worn-out you look,
exhausted by life...
wounded...
The vanity of it!
God, Stefan!
How could you be so cruel?
You've never really forgave yourself
for leaving Frederica, did you?
An attempt to kill
the illness of old age.
Check mate!
Lotte!
My dear Lotte.
Once I was in a travel bureau
in London...
the place was filled with refuges,
almost all Jews.
And all of them wanted to go
somewhere, anywhere.
They just wanted to go
to another place.
Anything was better
than where they were.
I knew at that moment,
with a terrible clarity...
what the future would hold.
You saved me.
And the future has come to past.
This nightmare without end.
I had hoped that,
naively, for something else...
I really believed I could make
Vargas do something...
despite all the signs,
all the warnings.
I have ignored my inner voice
for quite some time now.
Lotte...
I'm through.
There's still time for you.
You have youth and hope.
These last things I don't have.
Stefan, you know I've loved
you since we first met.
I love you more than myself.
I just want to be sure.
Isn't there any other way out?
Are we condemned?
Is this what you really want?
I think you should be
the first to know...
but I tell you under
strictest confidence.
So please don't say a word
to anyone until after we have gone.
I don't understand.
What about your work?
Your Montaigne biography
and "The Royal Game"?
Aren't they ready
to go to the publisher?
I would say...
at this moment our absence
is more important.
When will you be back?
Our plans are a little hazy.
Lotte is sick, I'm exhausted.
All of the excitement
has made me tired.
I mean no offense, Herr Zweig...
but aren't you just running away?
You know, Alberto...
it's not only plants and teeth
that can't live without roots.
Men and women are not better off.
Well, I suppose the war
can't last forever.
No, my friend.
All things must come to an end.
"Dearest Frederica...
by the time you receive this letter,
I will be feeling much better.
Although I'm writing this letter
in my last hours...
you can't imagine how happy I am.
Please don't grieve for me.
Be cheerful knowing that
I'm happy and at peace.
I have not felt so good,
so vital...
and so full of purpose
for many years now.
My decision is a relief
and a release.
Please accept my love
and friendship.
Forever yours, Stefan. "
Here we are.
Thank you, Herr Zweig.
Thank you.
This is okay.
This is the last fitting, Herr Zweig.
In a week you'll be able
to show it off...
to receive from the President
the visas for our friends.
Fine. I hope so.
The cut is a little bit different in
Europe nowadays. It's more classical.
If you could do the same
as the suit my wife brought in...
I'll try to do the best I can,
Herr Zweig, and a little bit more.
We're twenty years behind
here in Brazil...
excuse me...
but we are the kings
of a perfect imitation.
Wonderful!
Wonderful, Herr Zweig!
Good evening, friends.
- Welcome.
- Thank you for the invitation.
Welcome, Hubert.
Well, you're in a good mood!
Yes, I am in a good mood.
Must be a prospect of a journey.
So, what's all this I hear
about you two taking off again...
on a mysterious trip?
Hubert, I've been thinking...
I remember when I first came
to Brazil, back in '36.
I felt I had already been here
or at least a part of me had been.
Dorothea, Hubert.
Thank you for coming.
The first gift I ever
gave to Frederica...
sorry, honey...
back in 1912 or 13,
was an ashtray...
with one of those amazing
blue butterflies in it.
It was very pretty, exquisite.
Frau Lotte? Frau Lotte?
Dinner is ready.
Thank you, Lourdes.
Shall we?
Where was I?
Yes. Well, to make
a long story short...
I didn't realize then
that the poor butterfly...
didn't deserve
to be encased in glass.
You never cease to amaze me,
Herr Zweig.
You're as erratic as the flight
of a butterfly.
But that's what I like about you.
May I?
- Thank you.
- You're welcome.
Thank you, sir.
Thank you.
Perhaps it's time for a toast.
To the flight of a butterfly!
Hello?
Who is it?
Just a minute, please.
Herr Zweig, it's Mr. Faerman.
He needs to have
a quick word with you.
Dorothea, Hubert, my dear Lotte,
pardon me for a second.
Yes, Jonas.
Good evening.
Don't worry.
Oh, dear!
Have you called a doctor?
Good, good.
No, no problem.
I'll give your apologies to Lotte.
Yes, it's a pity we can't say
goodbye personally.
Yes, the manuscript
has gone to NY.
I called it "The Royal Game",
"Schachnovelle".
Do you like it?
You'll get a copy tomorrow.
I think so.
In fact, I think it's the best
I've ever written.
Yes, yes.
And to Hannah, too.
Farewell, my friend.
Keep me in your thoughts.
No matter what happens.
We have gifts for you.
But this is your grandmother's!
Yes.
Now you will never forget me.
They look beautiful on you.
Herr Zweig...
do you think we should
have stayed in Europe?
Joined the Resistance?
Fought like everyone else?
At times I've been
overwhelmed by guilt.
At other times I've felt like
there's no use feeling guilty...
for what's already said and done.
It's a permanent conflict
that can't be resolved.
In your case
you were right to get out.
You're no longer young
and you've already done so much.
Hubert, it's rather like
when a couple separates.
But here. These are yours.
The original Montaignes.
What? You have the complete
set of originals?
Yes, you know Frederica.
She's always so zealous.
She sent the missing ones to me.
Isn't that great encouragement?
It's like a sign from heaven.
"The more voluntary death is...
the more beautiful it is.
Life depends
on the will of others...
death, on one's own will. "
"The more voluntary death is...
the more beautiful it is. "
My dear friend...
do you really believe this?
I don't know.
I don't know.
But... who knows?
Only you, old virus.
My loyal companion
for some many years.
My old, indestructible virus.
You're the only thing that
enchants me and doesn't abandon me.
My invisible mirror.
Yes...
my invisible, unshakable mirror.
- Have I forgotten anyone, Lotte?
- No one, dear.
Did you check carefully?
I've made coffee.
I can heat up some milk.
No, no. Black's fine.
"I want to give heartfelt thanks
to this wonderful country...
which has been for me
and my work...
so good and hospitable
a resting place.
Every day I have learned
to love this country better...
and nowhere would I more gladly
have rebuilt...
my life all over again...
now that the world of my native
tongue has perished for me. "
One would need special powers
to begin completely afresh.
But now that I'm 60...
my reserves are exhausted
after long years...
of homeless wandering.
"It seems to me, therefore,
better to put an end...
in good time and
without humiliation...
to a life in which
intellectual work...
has always meant the purest
joy and personal freedom...
earth's most precious possession.
I greet all my friends!
May they live to see the dawn
after the long night is over!
I, all too impatient,
am going on before. "
"Lourdes, please look after the plants
and don't let the orchids die.
Today, for the first time,
Dorothea, I feel happy.
I'm not afraid anymore.
I freed myself from the torture
of pity and self-pity. "
"I don't hope for posterity
through my life's works.
My last look embraces
the supreme beauty...
of paradise lost. "
With the sudden, tragic death
of famous European writer...
Stefan Zweig...
the world loses the voice which
best described the grandeur of Brazil.
Authorities and the people
of Petropolis...
attend the funeral of the author of
"Brazil: Land of the Future".
Representing president Vargas...
his Minister for Press and
Propaganda, Dr. Lauro Pontes.
A close, personal friend
of the deceased...
he pays tribute to this great man.
STEFAN ZWEIG IN BRAZIL"
Exile is the word
they give to nightmare.
I fled to Paris, to London.
But everywhere I went,
Gestapo thugs followed me.
My name is Stefan Zweig.
And this is the story of the
strangest week of my life.
I first came to Brazil in 1936...
and immediately fell in love
with the country.
By comparison,
Europe was about to destroy itself.
If and earthly paradise exists,
then it can't be far from Brazil.
Last year,
exhausted and disillusioned...
I went back with
my second wife, Lotte.
But it was a different Brazil
that I arrived in.
And, besides, one can never
really escape from a nightmare.
Cheers!
To carnival.
And to Brazil!
Not now, Hubert.
Thank you.
Come on, Herr Zweig!
Let's forget about
all the work and politics.
I'm going to take you to see
something unforgettable.
To Brazil!
To the eternal
"land of the future"!
Please, Hubert, I wrote that book
before I came to live here.
Sorry.
I didn't mean to...
They really dance
through the streets naked?
You won't believe your eyes.
The whole world is turned
upside down!
It all sounds so savage!
Hubert, must you?
Sorry, it's a habit.
Stop that, please!
Listen, Herr Zweig, you're right.
This is a wonderful country.
But the Brazilian intellectuals...
are either Stalinists
or fervent Catholics.
And most of them,
even the communists...
remain dictatorship's hostage.
Hardly a democrat among them.
Just a bunch of nationalist pigmies!
All they want is their job...
and someone to think for them.
So, why be so surprised
with their criticism?
This country and its government
have treated us well.
I should think we owed them
a debt of gratitude.
The Brazilian society
is not as open and free...
as they'd have you believe.
How is your health, Lotte?
It doesn't matter where I am.
I still have my attacks.
This is a time of celebration...
yet we insist on discussing
disease and tyranny.
Herr Zweig...
just because Vargas
has given you your visa...
don't think he will
automatically support...
your request for
a Jewish homeland.
Don't forget that Salazar
turned down your same request...
for a Jewish homeland
in Portuguese Africa.
I'm fully aware
of how dictatorships work.
But I sense Vargas is different.
Besides, Brazil is a continent.
I'm sure he will back my request.
Please, Herr Zweig, be careful.
Don't imagine for one moment
that Vargas protects Jews.
You and a handful of others
are useful exceptions.
Of course, he wants to look tolerant,
especially by the Americans.
And dictators, they are all flirting
with Hitler and Mussolini.
Hubert!
I'm sorry.
It's stuck. It's stuck!
- Sorry.
- Stefan, it's all right.
Stop it, Hubert!
For God's sake!
- Turn it off!
- Stop it!
Turn it off!
It's okay, Stefan.
It's okay.
My dear friend,
please forgive me.
I don't know what is wrong
with me these days.
Perhaps it's old age.
No, Herr Zweig.
Don't say such things.
In fact, I don't think
you've ever looked so good.
Really!
- You're very kind.
- Well, let's go!
Tomorrow we have
carnival to celebrate.
The President of the Republic,
Dr. Getlio Vargas...
welcomes the eminent
Austrian writer...
Dr. Stefan Zweig, to Brazil.
The Minister for Press and
Propaganda, Dr. Lauro Pontes...
was in charge of protocol...
and introduced the celebrity
to the Head of Government.
Dr. Zweig, accompanied by his wife...
and by his Brazilian publisher,
Sr. Jonas Faerman...
presented the President with
a copy of his popular publication...
"Brazil: Land of the Future"...
inscribed with a special dedication
to president Vargas.
The President wished the
well-known author a happy stay...
and urged him to write
further books...
to the glory of his
new home - Brazil.
Sing! Sing! Chop-chop!
Sing! Sing!
Good, very good!
Once more!
Stefan Zweig!
Jesus, Stefan Zweig, here!
It's you!
What a marvelous coincidence!
Stefan Zweig at carnival in Rio!
Believe me, Mr. Zweig...
when I got off the plane,
I said to my producer:
"Get me an interview
with Stefan Zweig.
He's a sublime writer.
I must talk to him. "
But your agent or somebody
said you were...
unavailable.
That's very kind of you, Mr. Welles.
You know, they are
boycotting my pictures.
Here it's Vargas...
back home,
it's Rockefeller and RKO studios.
Everything is tough!
I'm being censored.
So now they send me here...
to film the Brazil of the postcards,
the scenic Brazil.
But me, I want to shoot
the real people, the slums...
the black guys, the black girls!
Specially the black girls.
The people are what make
a country special.
Oh yes, Mr. Zweig! Yes!
Everything I learned about Brazil
I learned from your book.
It's a masterpiece.
No other foreigner knows Brazil,
understands Brazil like you.
And I say that to anyone
who cares to listen.
It's no secret:
your book is the inspiration
for my picture.
George! The book!
Thanks!
See?
So long, Mr. Zweig.
And enjoy your paradise!
And my congratulations for
having such a beautiful wife!
Stefan, are you coming?
Am I forgetting anyone, Lotte?
Why don't you take a break?
You've gone over and over
the list for days.
I'll have plenty of time to rest
when our friends are here...
and safe with us.
Now... who have I missed?
What about the Feinbergs?
I've got the Feinbergs... here.
Stefan...?
There must be someone
we are forgetting.
There must be someone
we are forgetting!
Stefan, wanting to play chess
against yourself...
involves a real paradox.
It's like jumping over one's shadow.
"Nothing on earth puts more pressure
on the human spirit than a vacuum. "
"Nothing on earth puts more pressure
on the human spirit than a vacuum. "
Hello?
Who is it?
Who was it?
Nobody, dear.
Wrong number.
God!
My God!
My God!
Stefan, are you going out?
Yes, I've arranged to meet up
with young Davila. Remember him?
The young journalist Faerman...
introduced us to in
the palace of Vargas.
I think he's looking
for an interview.
Okay.
But don't be late, please.
Of course not.
Ten o'clock sharp.
By the way, have you finished...
my notes on Montaigne?
So, Herr Zweig...
what a wonderful work
are you writing now?
I have very few rules about writing,
dear young fellow...
but one of them is never
talk about a work in progress.
You can't even
give me a little clue?
Perhaps it's another book
about Brazil?
This beautiful land
where the future never arrives.
Have you ever heard
of Montaigne's "Essays"?
Voluntary death instead of being
forced to submit to servitude...
to moral and ideological
slavery. No?
No, I'm afraid not.
Tell me, Alberto, do you have
access to "me-de-santo"?
Herr Zweig, it is highly illegal.
The government forbids Umbanda.
I didn't ask you for the party line,
I'm simply wondering if you know one.
I know of somebody
who might help.
I'll see what I can do.
How beautiful
you are tonight, Leonie.
Sorry, I meant you're
as beautiful as ever!
Thank you, darling.
Look, tell Yolanda that her
cuddly favorite has come back.
Look, that American, Welles.
You see, Mr. Zweig?
I carry it wherever I go!
One night in NY, I drank...
I literally drank your book...
your love poem to Brazil...
along with two bottles
of Wild Turkey!
Naturally I pissed out
that poisonous bourbon...
but your description of paradise
stayed right here...
and right here.
I was almost born in Brazil.
Did you know that?
No. But thank you for your
kind words, Mr. Welles.
I just wrote what I saw and felt.
Besides, paradise is only possible
when you look back.
And don't we do that
everyday of our lives?
Mr. Zweig... "tudo Brazil"!
- This means "all is Brazil"...
- I know, I know.
...the wonderful country
of the world!
All is Brazil!
All is Brazil!
Good evening.
Good evening.
Every time I see these
poor Jewish girls...
my heart sinks.
That's life, my dear.
What could we do to help them?
Nothing!
The Jews themselves exploit them.
You know,
Welles practically lives here.
He has fallen in love
with our black girls.
If you don't enjoy life, my dear,
it becomes mournful.
Good evening.
You look gorgeous.
In Brazil we say that
men who sleep with whores...
are the most faithful
to their wives.
She is ready for you.
You just cares
about luxury and wealth
Everything you see you want
Oh my God
How I miss Amelia
That's what you can call a woman
Amelia had no vanity at all
Amelia was a true woman
Amelia had no vanity at all
Amelia was a true woman
Amelia had no vanity at all
Amelia was a true woman
Stefan?
Who is this?
Leave us alone!
Well, Herr Zweig, this is me here.
- I go up there.
- Yes...
- You will be okay on your own?
- Fine, my boy. Fine.
You're really too kind
and generous to me.
Don't worry.
My dear, sweet young man, forgive me.
I... I didn't..
Good night.
Welcome home, Stefan.
Petropolis,
perhaps our home forever.
It's not Salzburg nor London...
but we are alive.
Frederica...
Frederica...
"So many storms,
such destruction at sea...
and within each wave
seen death's own eyes. "
"So many storms,
such destruction at sea...
and within each wave
seen death's own eyes.
All the wars on land,
such hypocrisy...
this disgusting,
compulsive enterprise!
Is there a refuge for human frailty?
Some safe port for our
ephemeral lives...
where serene skies unleash
no well-armed squall...
to rage against creatures...
that are so small?"
Good morning,
Frau Lotte, Herr Zweig.
- Sorry for being late.
- It doesn't matter, Lourdes.
Thank you.
"No further resistance possible.
The whole British Empire hears
news with deepest mourning. "
Excuse me.
What a disaster!
Singapore is now in the hand
of the Japanese.
The whole world is at war...
a war we are surely losing.
And I have to go and
see that Pontes fellow!
I don't know what
you're worrying about.
He seemed a nice man to me.
Why on earth does he want
to see me this morning of all days?
He knows I have
tonight's lecture to prepare.
Please, try to stop
fussing all the time.
Perhaps Pontes wants
to discuss the visas.
Besides, don't forget:
we are just guests
here in this country.
Herr Zweig.
Pleased to meet you.
Take a seat, please.
Santos Dumont
is a grand Brazilian.
He solved the mystery of flight
before the Wright brothers.
Brazilians, you see, not Americans...
were the first humans to fly.
So you say, yes...
Herr Zweig, I'm sure...
you didn't know everything
about Erasmus, Fouch...
Americo Vespucci,
Marie Antoinette...
Kleist, and yet you researched...
and look what wonderful
biographies you produced!
I was interested
in such characters.
Let me explain something
to you, Herr Zweig.
Just for your own good,
you understand.
Brazil is an open country...
made up of all races and creeds,
including Jews...
who live in harmony
with each other.
But we are also trying
to build a new country...
and it is very important how we
are seen by the rest of the world.
That Orson Welles character,
for example.
The Americans think
we are ignorant and stupid.
And they send that...
that communist to film our slums...
to film the worst aspects
of carnival...
a bunch of niggers jumping up
and down like the Devil himself!
Forgive me, but...
is this president Roosevelt's
good neighbor policy?
To blacken the name
of our government...
telling Americans that Brazil
is the Eldorado of poverty...
lust and decadence?
Mr. Pontes,
I understand your concern...
but, really, I cannot abide...
simply cannot write to order.
Are you afraid of losing your
readership in the US, Herr Zweig?
But, of course, take your time.
I'm simply a middleman,
a messenger of the President's will.
Mr. Pontes...
I thought we were meeting
to discuss the visas...
your government promised.
Oh yes,
for your Jewish friends in Germany.
Herr Zweig...
forgive me, but these are
troubling times for us all.
The world is at war.
The President promised
almost two months ago.
They may not survive
for much longer!
Just one more thing,
Herr Zweig, about this book.
Santos Dumont's death.
Perhaps you should omit...
that one unholy matter.
To put it in a nutshell, Herr Zweig:
no one, in Vargas's Brazil
kills himself.
Like all geniuses of his kind...
my eulogy may cause
this talented Austrian...
of noble lineage
some embarrassment.
But I need not tell you
what an honor it is...
to have this rare opportunity...
to hear the man who "reinvented"
our country with his book...
"Brazil: Land of the Future".
Stefan Zweig...
is an example of the unyielding,
unbendable intellectual.
This man is an example of
resistance and moral coherence...
when many others prefer
to conform or abandon ship.
This man is a true champion.
Please let's welcome
Herr Stefan Zweig!
Please, girls. Please. Hurry up.
Hurry, hurry! Quickly.
Thank you. You can put it here.
There. Thank you.
In these times...
we live through
facts excessively quickly...
and we live through
too many facts...
to remember them properly.
I am unable to identify...
the "I" of my passport...
with that of the writer
in permanent exile.
A man without a country,
ironically, is a free man.
Our country has been taken
by your pal Vargas!
He's right!
Put yourself in our place!
Some of you...
question my devotion to freedom.
Well, I've always spoken
publicly against oppression...
against the violence
that dictatorships wield.
Against the suppression of freedom...
which I have known, believe me,
all too frequently in my life.
I have no freedom!
What about Vargas?!
It is impossible for anyone
to remove himself from the world.
- Quiet!
- Respect!
But I think an artist should
never subjugate himself...
to any party or
to the ideology in fashion.
He who allows himself
to think freely...
honors freedom on earth.
Jew, out!
My book has been misunderstood.
It's so unfair. Don't they see
he's telling the truth?
Lotte, it's unbelievable!
Utterly disgusting!
Please, Stefan, get off the stage.
You don't deserve this.
I'm just a poet.
There are no campaigns,
no praise in my book.
I've seen good and bad
and I've written about both.
What about political prisoners?
Why don't you challenge
Vargas's dictatorship?
Tell him to stop!
Tell him to stop talking.
This is absurd!
Go home, Jew!
Thank you, Herr Zweig,
for such a stimulating speech.
The greatest task in life
is to know how to be yourself!
Get out of here!
Vargas's lackey!
It was a shambles!
I was a disaster.
No, Stefan, you did right.
You stood your ground.
Do they really believe that
I'm one of Vargas's lackeys?
That I actually support
this dictatorship?
They just don't understand you.
What they say about Vargas
is true, it's undeniable.
But does it impede me
to do business with him?
No. I must keep
pushing him and Pontes.
If I distance myself of the regime,
it will never happen.
Now they want that rotten book!
God!
I don't know, maybe we should
have stayed in Europe.
Maybe we could have done more there.
Stefan, my dear.
What practical good could you
have done back home?
You work here
is far more important.
Your words are your weapons, darling.
You are fighting!
Maybe you are right.
Now, please, come to bed.
You must sleep.
Tomorrow we have
that awful visit...
to the Immigration Office
with Faerman.
In a moment, dear.
In a moment.
You're a great man, Stefan.
I love you.
Now, don't worry, Herr Zweig,
Frau Zweig.
This is just a way for Pontes
to show off his power.
It's a regular procedure...
concerning all German
and Italian immigrants.
But with the Jews
he's always extra vigilant.
I'm glad to hear
he's so concerned about us.
This way, please.
Thank you. Thank you.
Each month you must come
and present yourself...
to just that you are still here
and still alive.
You see, Herr Zweig?
Pontes wants you alive.
Amusing, how very amusing.
In tsarist Russia,
it was only the prostitutes...
who received yellow cards.
Please, Herr Zweig,
that's a bit strong!
Really, Stefan...
must you behave
like an anxious little boy?
Lotte, please,
try to understand...
she's my only source
of intellectual material.
Is it from Frederica again?
- Good morning, Herr Zweig.
- Good morning.
Good morning, Herr Zweig.
A special delivery from NY.
I'm sorry. It's open.
You can't image how exciting it is.
The mail is my only link
left with the outside world...
if some government censor
gets to read it first.
I understand.
- See you.
- See you, Herr Zweig.
"Dear Steffi,
it was good to hear from you.
Here are the books
on Montaigne you requested.
I searched every bookstore
in NY for them.
It's freezing here now.
How I miss Salzburg!
It's good to know that distance
has not separated our hearts.
I forgive you for leaving me...
but has not forgotten
the pain you caused.
The chapters of your
autobiography I received...
tell me little of you...
hiding once again behind History.
It's a pity, I'm sad to say...
but you have forgotten me, too.
Even so, I still love you...
even desire you sometimes.
Love and kisses, Frederica. "
Lotte!
Lotte, can't you control
that bloody wretched dog?!
Lotte!
"My darling Fritzi,
what a pleasure it was...
to receive your letter
and the books...
for which I send you many thanks.
Letters are getting fewer.
It seems my friends
have forgotten me.
Here, we are having a wonderful
carnival week...
an extraordinary, magical,
sensual event.
But my mind is far away
from such things.
I cannot let
myself be swept along by...
this wave of pleasure
and drunkenness.
The catastrophe back home
makes all joy impossible.
You'll be happy to know
I'm writing again.
It's a strange novel...
like nothing I've written before...
about this game which
has no element of luck. "
Should I get it?
No, no.
I will take it.
Yes?
Stefan, is president Vargas!
Hurray, Lotte! We've succeeded!
We've succeeded!
The President is
in the fountain garden...
at this moment, with the pupils
of the Public Junior School.
At one-thirty pm, lunch will be served
in the President's private dining room...
but he wishes you to join him
first in the garden.
After lunch, you'll be driven home.
Mr. Zweig, I hope you do
enjoy your conversation...
with our grand leader.
Madam. Sir.
Vargas! Vargas!
Vargas! Vargas!
You can go, please.
Herr Zweig, Frau Zweig...
...what a wonderful surprise!
- Mr. President.
Those children, Herr Zweig,
are the future of Brazil...
and they have inherited
a proud past.
This country has never been
stronger than it is right now.
My government is here
for all people...
not just for the elite.
Yet I'm still criticized, Herr Zweig.
Can you explain that to me?
With respect, Mr. President...
you have also abolished
all opposition parties.
Yes, the communists
and the fascists.
You censor the newspapers...
and you imprison those
who speak out against you.
Herr Zweig, have I imprisoned you?
Did you not speak badly
of my regime in public?
Since the First World War...
only the US has taken more
of your people to live...
and earn money than Brazil.
Did you know that?
So?
I really appreciate your continued
consideration of the visas...
which, I believe,
are yet to be sent.
Yes, yes.
Please, let's listen to the music.
My God!
You know...
us Brazilians are
a very mystical people.
Like anybody else, I'm both
a skeptic and a believer...
in signs and messages.
Do you dream often, Herr Zweig?
I do.
I'm having awful nightmares.
Have you ever dreamt
of being dead?
Or even taking your own life?
It's terrible...
believe me.
Mr. President, forgive me...
but they say that one dreams
of one's own death...
it means you will have
a long life...
that death is still far away.
Perhaps, Frau Zweig, perhaps.
But I worry about...
about my future...
and about the future
of this country.
I am Brazil and Brazil is me!
It's an incarnation of my strength,
of my will.
I'm afraid that death
will grasp me...
and all my plans and projects
for my people...
will disappear with me.
My friends,
perhaps I'm being too dramatic!
No, not at all, Mr. President.
Tell me, Herr Zweig...
how is the research
on Santos Dumont coming along?
Pontes told me you've taken
to the idea...
of writing his biography.
Not a word about the visas.
Damn Vargas!
He's like Salazar: only words,
promises, dissimulation.
The Portuguese are masters
in dissimulation...
and Vargas is an excellent pupil.
So...
Now... am I supposed to become
a mere court scribe...
bargaining for lives according
to the wishes of the little dictator?
To hell with
Santos Dumont's flight!
Stefan, please speak low.
Him and that worm of his, Pontes...
think they can force me
to write what they want!
She's saying that
she has been waiting for you.
So much running from yourself...
from your people.
You must heal your soul
of bad thoughts.
Your pan is not here.
On the other side of the earth...
that's where your devils lie.
An older woman is going
around your head.
She's calling you...
while the other one means
a Calvary for you.
She senses...
you have dark plans in your mind.
You should turn your back
for all this.
You should find a new
direction in your life.
She's saying that
after we die...
we enter a time that existed
before we were born.
Therefore, what importance
can have death?
She's asking you
to listen carefully:
no one dies before his time.
They'd given me the day off.
Such nice people.
But this...
this is awful!
How could she know of these things?
There were moments when
I felt was reciting...
passages from Montaigne's
"Essays".
Reincarnation is an important
part of Umbanda.
Our other lives in other eras...
even in other planets,
they affect this one.
Maybe she was reading my mind.
Maybe it was telepathy.
I have Montaigne in me
from head to toe...
I even dream about his thoughts.
But I suppose telepathy is no more
plausible than reincarnation.
Just does make sense.
These things cannot be explained...
in the light of reason, Herr Zweig.
Either you accept them
or you don't.
I believe in them and
it's sometimes frightening.
Their powers of premonition
are terrifying.
It means that
everything is preordained...
that everything is
already said and done.
That's one of the reasons
I stay away from it.
Please, you don't believe that,
do you?
That everything is all laid-out?
No, I don't.
And that's a problem.
Our belief system can't
explain what happened.
We shun the inexplicable,
they embrace it.
Who's to say who's right?
I'm sure they find our believes
just as baffling.
They live in one world,
we live in another.
But last night
the two worlds met...
and it was more exhilarating
than either one alone.
You should have
seen you face, Stefan.
It was like you were
somewhere else.
How could she know about
my most intimate past?
How could she?
A toast...
to Stefan Zweig,
the voodoo Jew of Brazil!
Cheers!
I admit I am defending
a serious breach of doctrine...
but Herr Zweig is a special case.
He has offended a natural law:
"God gives and
only God takes away".
It applies to all
of God's people...
but, gentlemen...
Herr Zweig was one
of our greatest.
He attempted to safeguard
our History...
our culture in his work.
But my only fear, Sholem,
is that it will set a bad example.
By allowing him to be buried
in the Jewish cemetery..
we will make an example
of his life rather than his death.
The Jewish community
will be watching.
A proper burial
is a more fitting end...
than the one he chose for himself.
I agree with Sholem.
Now more than ever,
we must look after our own.
Herr Zweig should be buried
in the Jewish cemetery here in Rio.
Agreed?
Very well then.
Now we must go to Petropolis
and tell them our decision.
But we have a problem to face:
Herr Zweig was affiliated
with the Vargas regime.
Thank God you're here!
We're having
a terrible time in there.
Even when he's dead,
Herr Zweig is a victim of injustice!
They're using him
as a political football!
Who's responsible
for the funeral rites?
- We'll sort it out right now.
- His coffin! His coffin is open!
There are flowers and wreaths
all over the place!
It's an absurd!
What are we going to do?
Calm down.
Calm down, Mr...?
Teitelbaum.
Israel Teitelbaum.
Mr. Teitelbaum...
let's try to resolve
this peacefully.
As Jews, we must take great care.
By all means, rabbi, by all means.
Rabbi.
Excuse me, rabbi Pech.
I'm sorry, but the request
of the government authorities...
I would like your approval.
I have already agreed to send the
bodies to a non-Jewish cemetery...
...here in Petropolis.
- No, no, no!
We've come all the way from Rio
to grant the Zweigs burial...
on sacred Jewish ground.
They will be buried in Rio,
in the Jewish cemetery.
Really, Rabbi Koning!
Wherever a Jew is buried
the ground itself becomes blessed.
Mr. Pontes, I am here on behalf
of the Jewish community...
Mr. Pech...
did Herr Zweig leave any instructions
as to where he wanted to be buried?
- Not that I know of, but...
- Without explicit instructions...
the matter is far from settled.
Herr Zweig was a prominent member
of the Jewish community.
President Vargas wants
to honor Herr Zweig...
and his wife with
a proper State burial...
here in Petropolis.
Now, as far as I know,
and I knew Herr Zweig quite well...
he never made a point
of his Judaism.
In fact, I am surprised
by your zeal.
They will be buried here,
Mr. Pech, not in Rio.
As for Herr Zweig's religious
practices, Mr. Pontes...
they are better left
to heavenly judgment.
His burial should be decided
by the community.
I believe I can resolve
this dispute.
These are Herr Zweig's
last wishes...
written in his own hand
the day before yesterday.
"I wish to be buried
with full Jewish rites...
in a small, simple ceremony
in my beloved Rio de Janeiro. "
So, there you have it.
The ghost of Herr Zweig
affirms his faith.
He is Jewish, Mr. Pontes.
And we, the rabbis,
will allow him to be buried...
in the Jewish cemetery in Rio.
I saw him only yesterday.
He said he was going on a journey.
Maybe he was trying
to send a message...
and we didn't get it.
- Do you know how they did it?
- No.
There are rumors that
they took rat poison...
God!
...but Vargas has forbidden
an autopsy.
He claims that he wants
to respect their privacy.
Dictatorships don't like autopsies.
Poor Lotte!
She was so young,
and such a good companion.
I don't know what could
have been so bad...
as to make them do this.
You know when I first knew
the real Stefan Zweig?
When I read your biography
of that suicidal poet, Kleist.
I thought, this man must
have died once...
to have so much understanding
and empathy.
It's a blessing we're together.
"Now it's all in order.
The eternal intranquillity
is at peace.
That which is destroyed finds itself
in complete union with the world.
Because only he who has
been torn to pieces...
feels the desire for perfection. "
"Eventually my frenzy
mounted...
during the game itself.
I did nothing else from
morning to night...
to such a pitch that I couldn't
sit still anymore.
The driving desire to win,
to dominate, to defeat myself...
gradually became
a kind of madness.
How this horrible, unspeakable
situation came to a head...
I cannot tell you myself.
All I know is that
I woke up one morning...
and the process was
suddenly different.
It was as though
I was outside of my body.
I don't know how much thought
I've given...
to the intellectual character
of this royal game.
But it's absurd,
logically speaking...
to want to play against yourself. "
"Dear President Vargas...
the delicious lunch
was only matched by the sight...
of those wonderful
Brazilian children.
I must return,
however, to a graver topic...
namely the matter of the homeland.
The slaughter of Jews continues.
My personal, lifelong dream of
a free, united, democratic Europe...
a continent without passports,
has been snuffed out.
Barbarism is everywhere. "
I appeal to you once again
to approve our plan...
for a Jewish homeland in Brazil...
an act of humanity
which would give life...
to those who face certain death!
Good morning, miss.
Good morning.
- How are you today?
- I'm very well, thank you.
And thank you for the lovely gift.
It's the least I could do.
I think I'd like
to buy some stamps.
How about three sheets?
Three sheets?
My! You must have many friends.
Can I get the ones with the animals
and the birds on them?
They really are beautiful,
aren't they?
Yes, they are.
But they're only stamps.
The real ones are all around us...
and I would rather see
the real thing.
- Goodbye.
- Bye!
Well, but Brazil has been
such a wonderful new home...
for some many refugees.
And not just now,
but for more than a hundred years.
It's a country of immigrants.
Do you really believe
that it's been...
a welcoming home for the Jews?
Well, yes. Yes, look at us!
Aren't we doing okay?
Mr. Faerman,
don't you think it's time...
to take off your rosy glasses?
Look here,
you were treated differently.
As Jews, you arrived with money,
with contact, with education.
What about the
hundreds of Jewish prostitutes...
in the streets of Mangue's brothel?
Brazil hasn't been good to them.
Jewish prostitutes?
It's true.
These women were brought
to Brazil from Poland...
your country, Lotte...
from France, from Germany,
brought under false pretenses.
Have you ever heard of the Tzi Migdal,
the Jewish crime syndicate?
They are responsible for it.
A member of the organization
proposes to a young woman...
she accepts,
they travel to South America...
to begin a new life, and when
they arrive, the trick is revealed.
She is forced into prostitution.
That's horrible!
Someone should do something about it.
It's not possible.
The Tzi Migdal is too powerful.
"Let there not be a whore
amongst the daughters of Israel!"
Stefan!
What? It's a fact.
Jewish prostitutes
are made by Jews.
We seem to be the whipping whores
of the world these days...
and still we are punished
by our own people.
Attention to this newsflash:
a German submarine has attacked
the Brazilian steamship Buarque...
off the coast of the US today.
The brutal and coward aggression
has caused many deaths.
This is the first reprisal
by the Axis Alliance...
since diplomatic relations
of the Brazilian government...
with German and Italy
were broken last month.
The war has reached paradise.
When we left Liverpool for NY...
the ship's captain
visited our cabin.
He explained that our trip would be
a highly dangerous one.
The sea was full
of Nazi submarines.
Stefan and I knew that,
but we listened to him...
not really understanding
where he was getting at.
Then, without any
further explanation...
he deposited two little capsules
in Stefan's hand.
He said he had to do it...
and had already done so
with most of the other passengers.
It was his duty,
but it was an official matter.
In case of attack, each of us
would have the chance...
I think I meant "choice"...
to die by swallowing
the cyanide capsules...
rather than being drowned
or captured.
This world of ours
can be a peaceful world
As in this night
when people everywhere
Gather in prayer
to our Lord above
Most guiding light
shows us the way to love
This silent night
The world of ours is one
And everywhere
the hand of God's become
The greatest might
our world has ever known
The wondrous sight
No one is not alone
Stefan is unhappy and
there's nothing I can do about it.
Maybe he needs to be left alone.
But it's getting worse.
What if I were to lose him?
Lose him?
I think the guilt is driving him away.
He's closing in on himself.
Lotte, we are all suffering
from this war, being in exile...
but we shouldn't feel guilty
about being alive.
We are alive, but we are orphans.
The last thing we have
is each other.
And that's what I don't want
to lose, what I can't lose...
and I am losing him.
Is he planning on leaving?
Do you know that he once
asked Frederica to die with him?
The answer was...
"If you want to die,
do it by yourself.
Why do you need company?"
I'm sorry, but it's just so true!
It's okay, really.
It doesn't matter.
Come here.
Look what I've brought you, honey.
This is the world...
your world...
the world beyond Brazil.
What?
You don't like them?
No, they are beautiful.
The world that
you'll never see again.
Never again.
But that will be good for me
because I will have you forever.
Sorry. I'm joking.
I'm just feeling giddy.
I said I'd write
your Santos Dumont book.
Now, where are the visas?
Just tell your people
to do something.
Now! Or else...
Or else what, Herr Zweig?
You won't write the book?
But you yourself said
they are two separate issues.
The truth is you need to write a
successful book in this country.
"Brazil: Land of the Future"
was an enormous success here...
it sold hundreds
of thousands of copies.
Even that walking cash register
Faerman was thrilled.
Oh, Faerman!
A very good salesman.
You're lucky to have him
working for you.
Now, Pontes,
Faerman is not the point.
But he is, Herr Zweig, he is.
Who do you think
bought all those copies?
You honestly think that, in a
country of millions of illiterate...
many Brazilians were interested
in the opinions of a foreigner?
What?
Let me show you something, Herr
Zweig, just between the two of us.
Please.
Look, Herr Zweig.
I mean...
you couldn't...
Couldn't what, Herr Zweig?
You couldn't!
They had a saying in England
which I always liked very much.
Now I'm not so sure.
They used to say,
there's no fool like an old fool.
Lotte? You startled me.
What are you still doing up?
You know I can't sleep
until you're home.
I'm sorry, dear.
It's just that I got distracted
with that vile creature Pontes.
God! I'm beginning
to hate that man.
He's so slimy that he leaves a trail.
I know.
It's okay.
Let's get you to bed.
Stefan?
Stefan?
Lunch is ready.
God, the water is
practically freezing.
We have just received word...
that the Germans are refusing
to recognize the visas.
After Pearl Harbor, you know,
everything became more difficult.
They will not allow your friends
to leave for Brazil.
It's out of our hands, Herr Zweig.
There's nothing more we can do.
But we have already tried again.
The war is changing.
This was our last and final chance.
I'm afraid that won't be possible.
The President is in negotiation
with the Americans...
for the next two weeks.
If you had some sort of arrangement
with president Vargas...
I have not been made aware of it.
So, we'll take up this matter
another time.
For now,
I'll let you go back to sleep.
Good night, Herr Zweig.
God, why have you forsaken us?
How could I have trusted
a dictator again?
I'm so ashamed!
Damn Salazar!
Damn Vargas!
Idiot!
What an idiot you are, Zweig!
They are dead.
They're all dead.
The Cohens...
The Fleishers...
The Brauns...
all of them...
What do you mean, Stefan?
How do you know?
Because Pontes told me...
that the Nazis
won't recognize the visas.
That's if Pontes ever
even sent them!
So that's the end of it for them.
- But the President...
- Vargas?
That spineless creature,
that dissimulated character?
As far as he's concerned,
we don't exist anymore either.
Why did I marry you?
Was I lying to myself?
God! How worn-out you look,
exhausted by life...
wounded...
The vanity of it!
God, Stefan!
How could you be so cruel?
You've never really forgave yourself
for leaving Frederica, did you?
An attempt to kill
the illness of old age.
Check mate!
Lotte!
My dear Lotte.
Once I was in a travel bureau
in London...
the place was filled with refuges,
almost all Jews.
And all of them wanted to go
somewhere, anywhere.
They just wanted to go
to another place.
Anything was better
than where they were.
I knew at that moment,
with a terrible clarity...
what the future would hold.
You saved me.
And the future has come to past.
This nightmare without end.
I had hoped that,
naively, for something else...
I really believed I could make
Vargas do something...
despite all the signs,
all the warnings.
I have ignored my inner voice
for quite some time now.
Lotte...
I'm through.
There's still time for you.
You have youth and hope.
These last things I don't have.
Stefan, you know I've loved
you since we first met.
I love you more than myself.
I just want to be sure.
Isn't there any other way out?
Are we condemned?
Is this what you really want?
I think you should be
the first to know...
but I tell you under
strictest confidence.
So please don't say a word
to anyone until after we have gone.
I don't understand.
What about your work?
Your Montaigne biography
and "The Royal Game"?
Aren't they ready
to go to the publisher?
I would say...
at this moment our absence
is more important.
When will you be back?
Our plans are a little hazy.
Lotte is sick, I'm exhausted.
All of the excitement
has made me tired.
I mean no offense, Herr Zweig...
but aren't you just running away?
You know, Alberto...
it's not only plants and teeth
that can't live without roots.
Men and women are not better off.
Well, I suppose the war
can't last forever.
No, my friend.
All things must come to an end.
"Dearest Frederica...
by the time you receive this letter,
I will be feeling much better.
Although I'm writing this letter
in my last hours...
you can't imagine how happy I am.
Please don't grieve for me.
Be cheerful knowing that
I'm happy and at peace.
I have not felt so good,
so vital...
and so full of purpose
for many years now.
My decision is a relief
and a release.
Please accept my love
and friendship.
Forever yours, Stefan. "
Here we are.
Thank you, Herr Zweig.
Thank you.
This is okay.
This is the last fitting, Herr Zweig.
In a week you'll be able
to show it off...
to receive from the President
the visas for our friends.
Fine. I hope so.
The cut is a little bit different in
Europe nowadays. It's more classical.
If you could do the same
as the suit my wife brought in...
I'll try to do the best I can,
Herr Zweig, and a little bit more.
We're twenty years behind
here in Brazil...
excuse me...
but we are the kings
of a perfect imitation.
Wonderful!
Wonderful, Herr Zweig!
Good evening, friends.
- Welcome.
- Thank you for the invitation.
Welcome, Hubert.
Well, you're in a good mood!
Yes, I am in a good mood.
Must be a prospect of a journey.
So, what's all this I hear
about you two taking off again...
on a mysterious trip?
Hubert, I've been thinking...
I remember when I first came
to Brazil, back in '36.
I felt I had already been here
or at least a part of me had been.
Dorothea, Hubert.
Thank you for coming.
The first gift I ever
gave to Frederica...
sorry, honey...
back in 1912 or 13,
was an ashtray...
with one of those amazing
blue butterflies in it.
It was very pretty, exquisite.
Frau Lotte? Frau Lotte?
Dinner is ready.
Thank you, Lourdes.
Shall we?
Where was I?
Yes. Well, to make
a long story short...
I didn't realize then
that the poor butterfly...
didn't deserve
to be encased in glass.
You never cease to amaze me,
Herr Zweig.
You're as erratic as the flight
of a butterfly.
But that's what I like about you.
May I?
- Thank you.
- You're welcome.
Thank you, sir.
Thank you.
Perhaps it's time for a toast.
To the flight of a butterfly!
Hello?
Who is it?
Just a minute, please.
Herr Zweig, it's Mr. Faerman.
He needs to have
a quick word with you.
Dorothea, Hubert, my dear Lotte,
pardon me for a second.
Yes, Jonas.
Good evening.
Don't worry.
Oh, dear!
Have you called a doctor?
Good, good.
No, no problem.
I'll give your apologies to Lotte.
Yes, it's a pity we can't say
goodbye personally.
Yes, the manuscript
has gone to NY.
I called it "The Royal Game",
"Schachnovelle".
Do you like it?
You'll get a copy tomorrow.
I think so.
In fact, I think it's the best
I've ever written.
Yes, yes.
And to Hannah, too.
Farewell, my friend.
Keep me in your thoughts.
No matter what happens.
We have gifts for you.
But this is your grandmother's!
Yes.
Now you will never forget me.
They look beautiful on you.
Herr Zweig...
do you think we should
have stayed in Europe?
Joined the Resistance?
Fought like everyone else?
At times I've been
overwhelmed by guilt.
At other times I've felt like
there's no use feeling guilty...
for what's already said and done.
It's a permanent conflict
that can't be resolved.
In your case
you were right to get out.
You're no longer young
and you've already done so much.
Hubert, it's rather like
when a couple separates.
But here. These are yours.
The original Montaignes.
What? You have the complete
set of originals?
Yes, you know Frederica.
She's always so zealous.
She sent the missing ones to me.
Isn't that great encouragement?
It's like a sign from heaven.
"The more voluntary death is...
the more beautiful it is.
Life depends
on the will of others...
death, on one's own will. "
"The more voluntary death is...
the more beautiful it is. "
My dear friend...
do you really believe this?
I don't know.
I don't know.
But... who knows?
Only you, old virus.
My loyal companion
for some many years.
My old, indestructible virus.
You're the only thing that
enchants me and doesn't abandon me.
My invisible mirror.
Yes...
my invisible, unshakable mirror.
- Have I forgotten anyone, Lotte?
- No one, dear.
Did you check carefully?
I've made coffee.
I can heat up some milk.
No, no. Black's fine.
"I want to give heartfelt thanks
to this wonderful country...
which has been for me
and my work...
so good and hospitable
a resting place.
Every day I have learned
to love this country better...
and nowhere would I more gladly
have rebuilt...
my life all over again...
now that the world of my native
tongue has perished for me. "
One would need special powers
to begin completely afresh.
But now that I'm 60...
my reserves are exhausted
after long years...
of homeless wandering.
"It seems to me, therefore,
better to put an end...
in good time and
without humiliation...
to a life in which
intellectual work...
has always meant the purest
joy and personal freedom...
earth's most precious possession.
I greet all my friends!
May they live to see the dawn
after the long night is over!
I, all too impatient,
am going on before. "
"Lourdes, please look after the plants
and don't let the orchids die.
Today, for the first time,
Dorothea, I feel happy.
I'm not afraid anymore.
I freed myself from the torture
of pity and self-pity. "
"I don't hope for posterity
through my life's works.
My last look embraces
the supreme beauty...
of paradise lost. "
With the sudden, tragic death
of famous European writer...
Stefan Zweig...
the world loses the voice which
best described the grandeur of Brazil.
Authorities and the people
of Petropolis...
attend the funeral of the author of
"Brazil: Land of the Future".
Representing president Vargas...
his Minister for Press and
Propaganda, Dr. Lauro Pontes.
A close, personal friend
of the deceased...
he pays tribute to this great man.