INT. ATTIC, DOWNTOWN AMSTERDAM -- DAY
Seven people climb tentatively into the large attic of an office building in Amsterdam. It is summer, 1942, and they are Dutch Jews hiding from the Nazis. OTTO FRANK, his wife EDITH, and their teenage daughters MARGOT and ANNE are followed by PUTTI and PETRONELLA VAN DAAN and their son PETER, about the same age as the Frank children. They set their suitcases down and stare open-mouthed at their stark new surroundings for a few moments before KRALER, a former business associate of MR. FRANK's, and his assistant MIEP GIES follow them inside.
KRALER
Are they all here?
MIEP
Everyone except Mr. Dussel.
KRALER
Fuck it, I'm going anyway.
(to the family members)
Can I have your attention please?
The FRANK and VAN DAAN families turn to face him.
KRALER
This is where the seven of you are going to be spending the next few months, or weeks, or however long it takes before the Nazis are gone and it's safe to come out. I'm a business associate of Mr. Frank's here, and this is our building; aside from Miss Gies here and myself, none of the people who work downstairs know that you're up here. We can't babysit you every hour of the day, so it is going to be up to you to keep your presence hidden from anyone else who might be using this building.
KRALER walks over to a blackboard on one of the walls and writes the letters ABC.
KRALER
A, B, C. A, always; B, be; C, concealing. Always be concealing. Always be concealing. You don't display a single thing in the windows, you don't make a single sound during business hours, that might indicate your presence to anyone outside. That means no radio during daylight hours, no talking if you can help it, no running water while anyone might be --
MR. VAN DAAN
No running water? Are you serious?
KRALER
That's right.
MR. VAN DAAN
So we can't even take a shit during work hours, is that what you're telling me?
KRALER
You're Mr. Van Daan, right? What's your first name? Putti? The fuck kind of a name is Putti?
MR. VAN DAAN
I don't have to stand here and listen to this --
KRALER
You certainly don't, pal, because guess what, there's a train leaving for Bergen-Belsen in the morning. You want on it? (to MRS. VAN DAAN) How about you? You think I'm doing this for my health, ladies? Think I painted over the windows 'cause it looked nice? SS hears somebody fucking around, popping popcorn in the middle of the afternoon, busts in and finds you've all been hiding up here, I'm just as dead as you are. I'm trying to keep you alive, people. You're willing to make some sacrifices, follow some rules you might find uncomfortable, you might just make it through this thing. You don't want to, there's a whole bunch of Gestapo roaming around Amsterdam right now love to make your acquaintance.
Long pause. MR. VAN DAAN appears chastened.
MARGOT
So what do you suggest we do, become nocturnal?
KRALER
That's exactly what I suggest you do. Once the sun goes down and everybody's gone home, you do whatever you want, eat, listen to the radio, play No-Limit Texas Hold'Em for all I care. But during the day, you might as well sleep, 'cause you're sure as fuck not gonna want to do anything makes any noise. Unless you gotta get up and take a piss so bad you think it's worth going to the ovens.
Another long pause.
KRALER
A, B, C. Always be concealing, ladies and gentlemen. We've been at war for three years now and there's no reason to think we won't be at it another three, so unless you got any better ideas, it's time to tuck in for the long haul. And if you had any better ideas, we wouldn't be fucking standing here, would we?
KRALER turns and heads down the steps, followed by MIEP. The FRANKS and VAN DAANS just stand there for a few beats, looking at each other.
MRS. FRANK
Does anybody want . . . a drink or something? Or a sandwich?
MR. FRANK
Fuck this, I'm going to unpack.
* * * * *
INT. ATTIC, AMSTERDAM -- NIGHT
Several months later, the tenants of the attic now number eight: the FRANKS and VAN DAANS, plus MR. DUSSEL, a Jewish friend of MIEP's who is also seeking refuge. The remnants of a Hanukkah celebration are strewn about the secret apartment -- plates of food, crumpled-up newspaper in which gifts were wrapped. MR. FRANK holds aloft a scarf that ANNE has given him.
MR. FRANK
This is beautiful, Anne. Thank you.
MRS. VAN DAAN
How long did it take you to make that? Where did you get the yarn?
ANNE
Miep brings it to me every few weeks.
MR. VAN DAAN
Great. We can't even have fucking latkes for Hanukkah, but we can have all the yarn we need.
MRS. VAN DAAN
We couldn't even cook them anyway, there hasn't been a drop of olive oil in this town since March.
MR. VAN DAAN
So, what, we just don't have a proper Hanukkah dinner, is that what you're telling me? No latkes? No sufganiyot? We just sit up here and eat bread and fruit like a bunch of goddamn zoo animals?
PETER
We fry anything up here, we'll smell like grease for days anyway.
MR. VAN DAAN
The fuck cares whether we smell like grease? Who's gonna know? All those meshugas out there, don't even know we're here? Fuck do you care, anyway, you've been spending all your time with your damn cat. I told you not to bring that thing up here.
PETER
What was I supposed to do, just leave it at our house?
MR. VAN DAAN
Oh, what, you're afraid the Nazis are gonna haul a cat off to the concentration camps? Open your fuckin' eyes, Junior, you've got a lot to --
A door slams loudly in one of the offices downstairs. Everyone in the attic freezes.
MR. FRANK
The fuck was that?
ANNE
Maybe it was the cleaning people.
MR. FRANK
No, no, fuck the cleaning people, they're only supposed to come every two weeks.
A thud from downstairs, followed by a loud crash. MRS. FRANK puts her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.
MR. DUSSEL
You know what that sounds like? The fuckin' Gestapo, that's who! Kraler snitched on us and they're rolling the place!
MR. FRANK
Kraler snitched? Kraler snitched? You ungrateful fuck, he's the one put us up here, why would he admit it when he stands to get sent off to the camps just like us?
MRS. FRANK
Otto, please, we have to be quiet --
MR. FRANK
Quiet, Edith.
(back to DUSSEL)
You got the memory of a fuckin' fly, you know that? If that is the Gestapo, I oughta throw you to 'em, show you who your friends really are.
MR. DUSSEL
(stepping toward MR. FRANK)
Yeah? Dutch national runner-up in the welterweight class, you cocksucker, you wanna dance with me?
DUSSEL and FRANK just stand there facing each other for a few moments, looking like they might charge each other at any moment. Eventually the tension is broken when MARGOT speaks.
MARGOT
There hasn't been any sound for a few minutes. I think they left.
MR. FRANK
I'm gonna go down there, see what happened. You think you can keep from pissing your pants, tough guy, you're welcome to come with.
Slowly MR. FRANK opens the attic door and heads downstairs.
ANNE
(to DUSSEL)
You lay a finger on my dad, it'll be the worst mistake you ever made.
DUSSEL
(bristling)
Fuck you.
ANNE
Fuck me? Fuck you, new guy, you're only up here because we let you be up here. You don't have seniority.
MR. FRANK returns.
MR. FRANK
Bunch of drawers opened, papers everywhere. They weren't looking for us, they were just trying to roll the place for some cash.
MR. VAN DAAN
They get anything?
MR. FRANK
The fuck should I know? (beat) I'm going to bed.
MRS. FRANK
Margot, Anne, help me clean up the dishes.
ANNE follows her sister into the kitchen, but not without glaring pointedly at DUSSEL.
ANNE
(whispering)
Watch your step, newbie. Unless you want us to stop being charitable.
* * * * *
INT. ATTIC, AMSTERDAM -- DAY
The FRANKS, VAN DAANS and MR. DUSSEL all look very tense as they sit around and drink their morning coffee.
MRS. VAN DAAN
Has Kraler still not called?
MR. FRANK
It's been five days. He was gonna call he'da called by now.
Suddenly there's a loud pounding at the door. Everyone immediately jumps up, and some of them begin edging toward the back of the attic apartment.
PETER
Fuck. It's them.
ANNE
Are we fucked?
PETER
We're fucked.
An SS OFFICER kicks in the door and charges inside, followed by three more OFFICERS and a COMMANDER in full regalia. The COMMANDER surveys his eight new prisoners and smiles.
SS COMMANDER
Well. Isn't this convenient. Eight of you all in one place.
MR. FRANK
Who dropped the dime on us?
SS COMMANDER
Excuse me?
MR. DUSSEL
It was Kraler, wasn't it? I told you all he couldn't be trusted!
SS COMMANDER
(laughs derisively)
You think it was Kraler? Well, you want to take it up with him, you'll have a nice long train ride to do just that.
(seeing their astonished faces)
Yeah, he's getting the same ride to Bergen-Belsen the rest of you are. Couldn't just let him go, could we? Shoulda been using his attic to stash old records like everyone else.
The SS COMMANDER strolls around the apartment, poking at the FRANKS' and VAN DAANS' personal effects with amusement.
SS COMMANDER
No, the one who dimed you was that punk burglar broke in here a couple weeks ago. You wanna know who it was? A former employee of yours, Mr. Frank. Fellow by the name of Dewijn.
MR. FRANK
That sniveling, flop-sweating little insect. I knew I should've fired that bug-eyed little fuck.
SS COMMANDER
Damnedest thing: Came in here one night looking to steal some real-estate leads. We picked him up the very next day, said he heard some people arguing up here.
PETER shoots daggers at his father.
SS COMMANDER
What a world, huh? Well, we can continue the chit-chat at the police station. Right now you're all gonna need to pack up your belongings and get ready to go. You don't bring it with you, you're not gonna see it again. Beck?
One of the OFFICERS rushes up to his COMMANDER and snaps into a salute.
SS COMMANDER
I want you to sweep this place after they've all packed up. No personal effects lying around, nothing, you got me?
BECK
Jawohl, Mein Herr. Heil Hitler.
SS COMMANDER
No no no, don't just stand there and 'Heil Hitler' me, tell me what you think I want to hear, forget what I said the minute my back is turned. I mean scrub this attic up and down, not so much as a spare yarmulke left behind, you understand me? Act like a fucking professional. You're working with men here.
BECK salutes and trots off.
SS COMMANDER
Kolter, Derwein, you round up the women. I'll be down in the car. Let's see if we can't wrap this up quick.
The COMMANDER heads downstairs. The OFFICERS begin prodding the eight attic dwellers toward the door.
ANNE (V/O)
In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.
One of the OFFICERS pokes ANNE in the back with the barrel of his rifle.
ANNE (V/O)
You know what, fuck that. People are cocksuckers.
The FRANKS, VAN DAANS and DUSSEL pick up their suitcases and march downstairs, followed by the SS OFFICERS.
FADE TO BLACK
3 comments:
Stop. You had me at "Fuck it anyway."
I'm smelling one of three things for this excellent work: a Sugarman Award, a Sami Rohr or the Koret Jewish Book Short-Story Award.
I'm sure this would be even more impressive if I'd ever seen Glengarry Glen Ross. But it's plenty impressive anyway.
The single biggest compliment I've ever heard offered is "I wish I had thought of that."
I wish I had thought of that.
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