Knife in the Head (Messer im Kopf)

An American in my situation would just start shooting out the window.

Thanks. Goodnight.

Goddamn it!

Lies! What lies!

When?

Yes, I know. I'm coming to pick you up.

No "but" s.

You, stop!

What the hell is this?

Stop!

What the hell is this?

Hoffman, Hoffman!

Go after him.

Stop!

KNIFE IN THE HEAD

WRITTEN BY PETER SCHNEIDER

DIRECTED BY REINHARD HAUFF

Alright, alright.

ID?

What's in your pockets?

Okay.

Are you Mrs. Hoffman?

Come with me, please.

It's important that you visit him regularly.

He's just regained consciousness.

Don't expect too much.

Hoffman!

It's me, Ann.

You have to speak louder.

Your wife is here, Mr. Hoffman.

All b... bastas...

Go on.

Are you crazy? You can't come in here now. Leave the room.

Keep talking to him.

Hey, Berthold!

Can you hear me, Hoffman?

Tell me if you hear me.

Say something, Hoffman, anything. Say "Ann".

I'd like to be alone with him.

Do you recognize me, Hoffman?

Ente-trente.

What about him? Will he pull through?

You don't know until they're gone.

I mean him, our public servant

- and protector. Wasn't he brought in with Hoffman? - Him?

Not here.

Where are the patients with critical stab wounds?

You don't happen to know where your colleague is?

No idea, huh?

He has to be somewhere, doesn't he?

He didn't even recognize me.

How long 'til he's well?

A couple of months, maybe a year. No one can say.

It says here he only got a few knocks on the head.

Visit him as often as you can. You can do more for him now than I can.

Do you have any children?

Your husband will have to learn everything from scratch -

seeing, speaking, walking, writing.

And the cops stand around grinning!

As soon as he can wipe his ass, they'll take him away.

You know who I mean.

All b... bastas...

Ann.

Listen, this is our new flier.

Victim of terror - that says. This shit is out.

Hoffman's name here and a picture of him here.

3000 copies right away, boom boom!

The cops'll be here again.

So what?

It's like Hoffman has ceased to exist.

It's scary, man. They wasted him.

It looks great.

Let me see.

Mrs. Schurig? Can I speak to your husband, the killer-cop?

He's not home.

We'll stop by sometime.

You'll be hearing from us. This is Superterrorist.

You and Superterrorist - I

They can trace calls.

You're wasting your energy.

Call her up again.

Did Hoffman come here often lately?

He lent us his car and bought us beer a few times. That's all.

Facts aren't evidence. Why did he come here at all?

You know Hoffman.

Whenever he was down he came running to Ann.

On that night...

The pigs blew him away!

Were you there?

You're a fantastic lawyer.

Were the guys there who are calling him a terrorist?

Was your friend always so stubborn?

No, but he's right-handed.

Slob!

Chromosomal error.

Or self-destruction mechanism?

Ente-trente.

I'd say error.

I wouldn't want to see the self-destruction thing.

Which theory is right, Hoffman?

Or are they both wrong?

That's a new method, alright.

He sees the pendulum but he can't think of the word for it.

Ann.

The bullet entered here and lodged behind his left ear.

It destroyed part of his motor speech center.

What's that?

Sauce!

This is a spoon, Hoffman. Say "spoon".

Sauce!

He remembers some words, but will have to relearn others.

Sort of like growing up in a foreign country

and having to relearn your own language.

What does that remind him of?

The desire to live a life without fear.

Yes, yes.

- Can you come, please? - Yes.

I'm going to get you out of here, Hoffman, don't worry.

A bullet in the brain isn't so bad, other people have shit for brains.

Volker came to see you.

Hey, Hoffman, say something.

If you can't talk, just blow on me.

Do the spastic thing for him.

Volker brought you something.

Did you have a nice lunch?

Sauce!

Sauce!

You don't have to yell.

Applesauce! What did you have today?

Sauce!

They give you applesauce every day?

Sauce... Kiss.

I play!

Get out! I...

Keep playing. How nice.

POLICE BRUTALITY AGAINST YOUTH

You have to think about when he gets out.

He'll never get out with a lawyer like you.

He's right, but I don't feel like thinking about it.

As his wife, you know,

you're obligated to take care of him and let him live with you, etc.

Hoffman needs help, he's going to get it,

but that doesn't change things with us. I don't see the big problem.

To me he's a political case. The rest is your worry.

I see what you like about him.

Good morning.

First your pills.

Swallow them, they're good for your head.

Close them tight, real tight. That's right.

Why do you keep squinting your eye?

Okay, spell this.

Hey!

Italia! Bella Italia!

Good, go on.

Read something else.

- Hoffman THE DOUBLE LIFE OF BERTHOLD HOFFMAN

Come on, open both eyes. What do you see?

Three.

Three what?

One...

Two...

Three...

You see three eyes?

Now...

Four!

Nonsense!

You didn't expect that.

Good for my head.

That's right. And the next picture - what's this?

An...

An o...

An orange.

- Right, and the next one? - A beer. - Fine. And what's this?

A... A...

A slice...

- Bread. - Right, fine.

Ugh!

Let's go to the next one.

A...

Chic... chic...

Berple.

Get out of here, creeps like you make me sick.

Are you coming?

Let's take your bathrobe off...

That's him, the one in the papers.

Very good.

No, I wipe! Let me... Basta!

I'm sorry, he's in no condition.

We aren't planning to put him in a normal jail, sir.

A prison hospital. We'll take him by helicopter if necessary.

You'd have the police off your backs.

You will allow me to ask him a few questions?

It won't do you any good. He has absolutely no memory of that period.

Just a few routine questions. Five minutes.

All right, five minutes, no more.

Well, Hoffman, how are we today?

Bertold Hoffman, a biogeneticist at the Traut Institute.

Date of birth July 24, 1942 in Freiburg.

That won't get you far.

You speak Italian, right?