The Lives of Others Page #3

Perhaps that's a good thing.

- How are you?

- Not bad.

It's not always this noisy.

Only on Thursdays, I know.

Yes.

We missed you at the premiere.

Did Schwalber do a good job?

His good bits were stolen from you.

That keeps my ideas alive.

Don't bear it.

I can't bear those fat, dressed-up people

at premieres anymore.

Doesn't sound like me, does it?

But maybe this is the real me,

not the old Jerska.

He was friendly and caring, nourished by success...

all thanks to the grace of the bigwigs.

But I won't complain much longer.

In my next life, I'll simply be an author.

A happy author

who can write whenever he wants.

Like you.

What is a director if he can't direct?

He's a projectionist without a film,

a miller without corn. He is nothing.

Nothing at all.

Albert, the Minister was at the premiere.

Minister Hempf.

I spoke to him about your blacklisting.

It looks promising.

He gave me hope, concrete hope. Literally.

Really?

That's great.

Cheap Georgian wine. Chateau Jerska.

So is our holy drinker coming?

I forgot to ask him.

You're strong and forceful.

That's how I need you.

Don't let this blackness into your life.

- Albert is my friend.

- And you're my boyfriend.

Looks like a 50th.

But I'm going to be 40, right?

Don't forget, you promised

to wear a tie for your birthday.

I would, but I don't have one.

Bon anniversaire!

Atie?

You said you didn't want any books.

Or can't you tie a tie,

you old working-class poet?

What?

I was born wearing a tie!

I had to "fight my way out

of my middle-class fetters".

Then put those fetters on again, just for me.

Alright... It's no

big deal to tie a tie.

Frau Meineke, would you come in for a moment!

Can you tie a tie?

You've no idea how thankful I am.

- Are you feeling unwell?

- No... I'm feeling fine.

Finished?

Wonderful. It's perfect.

It couldn't be better.

It'll be our secret.

You can keep a secret, right?

Of course.

I'll be damned! And I thought you couldn't do it.

You don't normally hide your talents.

You've no idea of the things I can do!

The first guest.

Our dear neighbors locked the main door again.

- Can you go?

- Yes, I'm going.

Maestro! Our humble offerings.

- I expressly said no books!

- But thanks.

Would you like a drink?

- A soda.

- Vodka for me.

I'll get it.

Why the hell's Albert sitting all alone?

He won't talk to us.

He sent us all away.

I brought you something too.

- Did you really come here to read?

- It is Brecht!

I feel like a fraud among these people.

A fraud?

Come off it, Albert!

You're losing your grip on reality.

You know how we admire you,

how everybody admires you.

For something I did 10 years ago...

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