Inglourious Basterds (6 page)

I’m French. We respect directors in our country.

Apparently even Germans.

Even Germans. Merci for your assistance, Private. Adieu.

She turns to go back inside.

You’re not finished?

I’ll finish in the morning.

She opens the door to go inside.

May I ask your name?

You wish to see my papers?

She hands him her excellently forged papers.

That’s obviously not what he meant, but he takes them anyway to read her name.

Emmanuelle Mimieux. That’s a very pretty name.

Merci. Are you finished with my papers?

He hands them back.

Mademoiselle. My name is Frederick Zoller.

She gives no response.

It’s been a pleasure chatting with a fellow cinema lover. Sweet dreams, Mademoiselle.

He gives her a little salute and walks into the black of a curfew-imposed night.

She looks after him. She didn’t show it, but he kind of got to her. After all, for any true cinema lover, it’s hard to hate
anybody who, CINEMA MON AMOUR.

EXT—ROOFTOP CINEMA—NIGHT

Shosanna stands on the roof her her cinema, late at night, lighting up a cigarette. As she takes her first big drag, she remembers
a voice.

FLASH ON

MADAME MIMIEUX, the younger Shosanna, and the black projectionist, Marcel, in the projection booth. Shosanna lights up a cigarette,
and Madame Mimieux SLAPS her face HARD, knocking the cigarette out of her mouth. Marcel quickly STAMPS it out on the floor.

If I ever see you light up a cigarette in my cinema again, I’ll turn you in to the Nazis, do you understand?

Shosanna is shocked by this statement.

Oui, Madame.

And for bringing an open flame into my cinema, you deserve far worse than a Nazi Jewish boxcar. With your thick head, what
do you think the highest priority of a cinema manager is? Keeping this fucking place from burning down to the ground, that’s
what! In my collection, I have over three hundred and fifty 35mm, nitrate film prints, which are not only immensely flammable
but highy unstable. And should they catch fire, they burn three times faster than paper. If that happens… POOF… all gone,
cinema no more, everybody burned alive. If I ever see you with an open flame in my cinema again, I won’t turn you into the
Nazis. I’ll kill you myself. And the fucking Germans will give me a curfew pass. Do you understand me?

Oui, Madame.

Do you believe me?

Oui, Madame.

You damn well better.

BACK TO ROOF

Shosanna exhales cigarette smoke.

Marcel comes onto the roof.

Are you well?

Even on the roof I can’t smoke a cigarette without hearing Madame’s voice yelling at me. That’s why I do it. To hear Madame’s
voice again.

We both miss her.

I know. I’m fine, darling. I’ll be to bed soon.

Marcel goes back inside. Shosanna smokes.

INT—FRENCH BISTRO—AFTERNOON

Shosanna sits in the back of a French bistro, reading a book, “The Saint in New York,” by Leslie Charteris, drinking wine
when the young German soldier from the other day, FREDRICK ZOLLER, walks in. He gets a beer, then notices the French girl
sitting in the back. He smiles and heads over to her. “Oh no, not this guy again,” she thinks.

Again they speak in FRENCH SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH:

May I join you?

Look, Fredrick—

(smiling)

—You remember my name?

Yes… Look, you seem a pleasant enough fellow—

—Merci.

You’re welcome. Regardless, I want you to stop pestering me.

I apologize, Mademoiselle. I wasn’t trying to be a pest. I was simply trying to be friendly.

I don’t wish to be your friend.

Why not?

Don’t act like an infant. You know why.

I’m more than just a uniform.

Not to me. If you are so desperate for a French girlfriend, I suggest you try Vichy.

Just then TWO OTHER GERMAN SOLDIERS come over, obviously very impressed with Fredrick. They make a fuss over him in UNSUBTITLED
GERMAN, which neither Shosanna or the non-German-speaking members of the movie’s audience can understand. He signs autographs
for them and shakes their hands, and they go on their way.

Shosanna’s eyes narrow.

Who are you?

I thought I was just a uniform.

You’re not just a German soldier. Are you somebody’s son?

Most German soldiers are somebody’s son.

Yeah, but you’re not just somebody. What are you, Hitler’s nephew?

He leans in across the table. She leans in too, and he says:

Yes.

Really?

No, not really. I’m just teasing you.

She leans back, annoyed.

Then what is it? What are you, a German movie star?

Not exactly.

(Pfuit) What does that mean, “not exactly”? I asked if you were a movie star. The answer to that question is yes or no.

Fredrick laughs at that line.

When you said that just now, you reminded me of my sister.

This catches young Shosanna off guard.

I come from a home of six sisters. We run a family-operated cinema in Munich. Seeing you run around your cinema reminds me
of them. Especially my sister Helga. She raised me, when our father wasn’t up to the job. I admire her very much. You’d like
her. She doesn’t wear a German uniform.

You were raised by Helga?

All my sisters. I’m the baby, but Helga was the bossiest.

And your mother and father?

My mother died. And my father was a loser. My father’s motto: “If at first you don’t succeed, quit.” The day he left, good
riddance. My sisters are all I need. It’s why I like your cinema. It makes me feel both closer to them and a little homesick
at the same time.

Is your cinema still operating?

Oui.

What’s it called?

The Kino Haus.

How has it done during the war?

Actually, in Germany, cinema attendance is up.

No doubt. You don’t have to operate under a curfew.

How often do you fill your house?

(Pfuit) Not since before the war.

So if you had one big engagement, that would help you out?

Of course, but that’s not likely to happen.

TWO MORE GERMAN SOLDIERS and their TWO FRENCH DATES approach the table. They ask for Fredrick’s autograph, and he signs it
for them. One of the French girls says, in FRENCH, how exciting it is to meet a real live German war hero. Shosanna hears
it. They leave. So that’s it, she thinks.

So you’re a war hero? Why didn’t you tell me?

Everybody knows that. I liked that you didn’t.

What did you do?

He takes a sip of beer.

I’ve shot the most enemy soldiers in World War Two… so far.

You bet your sweet ass that got her attention.

Wow.

I was alone in a bell tower in a walled-off city in Russia. It was myself and a thousand rounds of ammo in a bird’s nest,
against three hundred Soviet soldiers.

What’s a bird’s nest?

A bird’s nest is what a sniper would call a bell tower. It’s a high structure, offering a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view.
Very advantageous for marksmen.

How many Russians did you kill?

Sixty-eight.

(beat)

The first day. A hundred and fifty the second day. Thirty-two the third day. On the fourth day, they exited the city. Naturally
my war story received a lot of attention in Germany. That’s why they all recognize me. They call me the German Sergeant York.

Maybe they’ll make a film about your exploits.

Well, that’s just what Joseph Goebbels thought. So he did. It’s called “Nation’s Pride,” and guess what, they wanted me to
play myself, so I did. They have posters for it in kiosks all over Paris. That’s another reason for all the attention.

“Nation’s Pride” is about you? “Nation’s Pride” is starring you?

I know, comical, huh?

Not so comical. So what are you doing in Paris, enjoying a rest?

Hardly. I’ve been doing publicity, having my pictures taken with different German luminaries, visiting troops, that sort of
thing. Goebbels wants the film to premiere in Paris, so I’ve been helping them in the planning.

Joseph is very keen on this film.

He’s telling anybody who will listen that when “Nation’s Pride” is released I’ll be the German Van Johnson.

Shosanna isn’t falling for the young German by any stretch. However, his exploits, as well as his charming manner, can’t help
but impress. But his referring to Goebbels as “Joseph,” like they’re friends, is all she needs to get on the right side of
things. This young man is trouble with a capital T, and she needs to stay far fucking away from him.

She abruptly rises and says:

Well, good luck with your premiere, Private. I hope all goes well for Joseph and yourself. Au revoir.

And with that, she disappears, leaving the perplexed private alone.

EXT—CINEMA MARQUEE—DAY

It’s the next day.

Shosanna and Marcel are changing the letters on the marquee.

Marcel excuses himself to visit the toilet.

Shosanna is alone outside the little cinema, perched up on her ladder.

WHEN…

… A BLACK NAZI SEDAN pulls up in front of the little cinema.

A GERMAN MAJOR in a black Gestapo uniform steps out of the back of the sedan.

The DRIVER, a German private, steps out as well.

Yelling to the young girl up high on the ladder:

Both GERMAN and FRENCH will be SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH.

Mademoiselle Mimieux?

Oui?

Telling his driver in German to ask her in French:

Ask her if this is her cinema.

In French the driver asks Shosanna:

Is this your cinema?

Oui.

Tell her to come down.

Come down, please.

She climbs down the ladder.

The driver opens the back door of the sedan, indicating for her to get in.

I don’t understand. What have I done?

(to major)

She wants to know what she’s done?

Who says she’s done anything?

Who says you’ve done anything?

Then in her best imitation of Mademoiselle Mimeux’s arrogant manner.

Then I demand to know what this is about, and where do you propose to take me?

The driver begins to translate when the Gestapo major holds up his hand, telling him not to bother. The major looks at the
young French girl and tells her in German:

Get your ass in that car.

No translation necessary. She climbs into the back of the car, followed by the Germans. The sedan takes off.

INT—SEDAN (MOVING)—DAY

The Nazi sedan drives through the early-afternoon Paris streets.

WE HOLD SHOSANNA IN TIGHT CU

the whole ride, never showing her Nazi oppressor sitting beside her. We just hold on her face trying not to reveal anything.

The sedan stops.

The car door opens, and the driver offers Shosanna his hand.

EXT/INT—MAXIM’S (FAMOUS PARIS CAFÉ)—DAY

She steps out of the car and is led into a Paris café by the Gestapo officer. It takes the young Jewess a moment or two before
she realizes she’s not being led to a Gestapo interrogation room, a railroad car, or a concentration camp, but to lunch.

The best table at Maxim’s. Three people, and two dogs, sit at it: Germany’s minister of propaganda and the number-two man
in Hitler’s Third Reich, JOSEPH GOEBBELS; his female French translator (and mistress), FRANCESCA MONDINO; and young Private
Zoller. TWO BLACK FRENCH POODLES belonging to Mademoiselle Mondino sit together in another chair at the table.

We join the in mid-conversation:

They all speak GERMAN, SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH;

—it’s only the offspring of slaves that allows America to be competitive athletically. American Olympic gold can be measured
in Negro sweat.

Shosanna is led through the French eatery by the Gestapo major. Private Zoller sees her and stands up, excuses himself, and
greets her before she reaches the table.

Fredrick says in French, SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH;

Good you came. I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d accept my invitation.