02x04 - Station to Station

[bunniefuu]

Do you know what time it is?

Don't you have thermodynamics?

Right.

- Right. Yes, class. Yeah.
- Yeah. Late for class again.

So unlike you.

What's gotten into you, Agnes?

I'm a little distracted.

I've been distracted too.

I have to get to class,
stay on the routine.

- See you tomorrow, yeah? Mm-hmm.
- Yeah. Yeah.

- Yeah?
- Yep.

♪ Morgen ♪

See you tomorrow.

I'll be there.

Give us a smile!

You have a nice day too.

This is
the northbound 6 train.

Stand clear of the closing doors.

So you're the one who kills baby h*tler.
Impressive.

You know, I never took you
for a m*rder*r, Alan.

You give off
much more of an accomplice vibe.

Thank you, but, uh,
it's a little bit too late for that.

It's 1962 East Germany, so...

Middle of the Cold w*r.

That's just classic h*tler.
I mean, sabotage freak.

So, what's your endgame?
Where's your long-lost family fortune?

Maybe it's not about fixing anything.

You know, like you said, we leveled up.

Maybe we're just supposed to, like,
I don't know, you know, enjoy the ride.

What's going on with you? Are you high?

No. There's someone in the past that I...

I like spending time with.

So, wh... what is she?
Is she, like, uh, a Marlene Dietrich type,

or more of an Angela Merkel?

He's...

Okay, okay, his name is Lenny.

Ah.

So a Florian Schneider.

I don't even know who that is.

Kraftwerk. RIP.

Okay, we're not f*cking. We're not.

- Well, you're very good at it, Alan.
- Thank you, but...

- Greatest of my life.
- Focus. East Germany...

apparently was a way out, or, uh,

an alternative to Western colonialism,

or just a place
to get educated in the sciences.

My grandmother
was a graduate student from Ghana.

I didn't even know any of this.
I mean, I didn't even know her.

Can you imagine
what she must've lived through?

I mean,

she must've felt so alone.

Sounds like she met somebody, right?

You gonna make a move here, dude?
You're f*cking k*lling me.

I... I like spending time there. It's...

It's nice not to have to worry
what people think when they see me.

Alan, the only reason to go into the past
is to change sh*t, all right?

I mean, haven't you ever seen a movie?

Yes, Nadia.

And I know that you won't believe me
when I say this, but I have seen a movie,

and literally every movie about
time travel says don't change things.

That's why this is... this is so great.

This is...

Nadia.

Nadia, don't... don't mess this up.

Don't worry. I am done with the '80s.

It turns out it's not all
Cabbage Patch Kids and cocaine.

Check it out, m*therf*cker.

Checkmate.

All right, gotta do some reconnaissance.
Would you like to join?

No. No, no, no, I have plans. I can't.
I'm meeting with Lenny.

Lenny, you told me, I get it.

I'm happy for you.

- Good day, sir.
- Okay.

Wait, this is wrong. Nadia...
This is a stalemate.

Nad...

Nadia, you're cheating!

- What is this thing?
- Ah.

Hard evidence that my grandmother's family
was looted by Nazis in 1944.

And people don't talk about this much,
but the Nazis were basically broke

and drug-addicted speed freaks.

Read an entire book about it.

The entire Third Reich.
I mean, just blitzed out of their mind.

Sweetheart, that's all common knowledge.

So where did you find this?

Well, in, uh... You know, in Nora's stuff.

Oh.

I wanna go to Budapest.

Find out what really happened
with this f*cking gold train.

Yay.

This was a plane,
not a Sieg Heil, to be clear.

Ah.

Well, yeah. I mean,
you are turning 40 in a few days,

so I suppose in some way

you were going to get interested
in your family history.

Now, you see,
this is why I love you, Ruthie, okay?

You get it. Uh...

Yeah, I mean, I guess I wanna go,
I don't know, celebrate my birth

by going back to where all my people d*ed.

Too dark? Ah!

I don't make the rules. That's history.

Let me ask you a question.

Did you, uh, like, stay in touch much
with Vera after mom d*ed or what?

Your grandmother was a hard person
to know, and...

...I was not exactly her favorite.

Why?

I was an atheist and a heretic,

and she thought that I encouraged
the wrong sides of your mother.

Atheist and a heretic. That's...

...very hip, Ruthie. Very hip.

What the f*ck is this?
What am I looking at?

- What are all these?
- That is nothing for you to worry about.

- Nothing.
- Anything good?

No, nothing at all.

Looks like candy to me.

You know what?

- What?
- Take Maxine to Budapest with you.

- Make a girls' trip out of it.
- Okay.

See, when you're poking around
in the past,

it's helpful to have
a second pair of eyes.

Ah, and a third leg.

What is this?
When did you start smoking menthols?

It's funny.

Lately, I've been thinking
a lot about your mother too.

I thought you were Russian.

Well, my father's family was Russian,

or rather,
temporarily tolerated by the Russians.

My mother's family, same deal,
but with Hungarians.

f*ck, marry, k*ll.
h*tler, Dracula, Frankenstein.

Too easy.

Three-way with Gary Oldman
and Bela Lugosi,

then I marry Boris Karloff
and I k*ll h*tler.

Oh my God, we are total opposites.

- Where's our hotel? I got a call...
- Like, you wanna f*ck h*tler?

What?

Yeah.

- Do I wanna f*ck h*tler?
- Do you?

I'm too tired for this.
Where's our hotel? I'll call an Uber.

Check it out. I wanna go visit
my grandmother's old place.

It's, uh, Dohány Street.

It is 3:00 a.m. in New York, Nemo.

3:00 a.m. is always the point in the night

where we get sad
and try to figure out our families.

Okay, we'll go see your grandma.

You know, my grandmother has also
been talking to me a lot lately too.

Oh really?

Yeah. Lucid dreaming.

Right before you go to sleep,
you slap a nicotine patch right here.

It's a fantastic voyage.

Oh you're "nuts" nuts.

- Yes.
- Look, moving stairs.

This will be interesting.

Dead men get all the plaques.

Yeah, I know, right?

Like, where are all the memorials
for us living women?

No solicitation!

What the f*ck is this?

Ah. Hello.

Bitch!

Also, f*ck me!

Yeah?

Looked up some Hungarian curses.

- Oh, that's handy.
- Yeah.

No loitering!

I don't think
that was an invitation to goulash.

I don't like goulash.

I wanna sleep.

With a Hungarian, but first, with myself.

Oh, Agnes, great.
They're inside.

It's okay, Bruno.

She made that schematic.

So this is Agnes, at last.

Yes.
Her German is only so-so still.

She is black.

Yes.
Agnes, this is Bruno and Lukas.

- Hi, hi. I'm Agnes. Yes.
- And the rest of us.

- Okay.
- You made a work of art, Agnes.

What did I make?

We dig
the final five meters tonight,

then wait for Agnes' signal

to break through the cellar floor.

Here, the bakery at Prinzenstraße 13.

Let's use English for Agnes.

Oh right. Sorry.

We're right on schedule
for tomorrow night.

Lenny and I will do the final inspection,

and then the first group of ten
goes through just after midnight.

We rendezvous in the lobby
of Boyd Hall East,

then head down to lab B73
in the basement together.

If anyone asks, we're simply studying
for our engineering exams.

Make sure to carry textbooks.

We'll have to leave
everything else behind.

I'm sorry. What are we doing?

She's joking, right?

Agnes and Petra
will cross over in the morning

through the foreign entry checkpoints

and meet my sister and the other couriers
on Prinzenstraße.

You have a sister?

You know my sister.

Wait, is this...

Is this a tunnel under the Berlin Wall?

- What the f*ck?
- What's wrong?

Agnes,
what's going on with you?

- What's wrong with this lady?
- She's not a real Berliner.

These Socialist Project people
are not like us.

We can't trust her.

She may even turn us in.

Don't say that!

We can trust her.
We wouldn't be here without her.

Sorry to interrupt,
but I don't think the train I take here

goes to West Berlin.

Lenny, this is crazy.

We've been digging your tunnel
for six months,

and now you think it's crazy?

What's the new plan?

This?

Enough.
The tunnel will work, okay?

Do you mind if I eat this?

♪ It's okay ♪

♪ To lay your head down sometimes I say ♪

Ah. Kapitány.

"Marton Halász living descendants." Uh...

Ah.

There she is.

Kristóf Halász.

Hey.

Ah.

Yum-yum.

Maxine, look alive. New deal.

No, I'm not done.

Yeah. Try these.

I am not done.

So the Arrow Cross assh*le
who signed off on robbing my family

was the last person on record to see
the goods before the trail grows cold.

Only problem is,

like most good Nazis,

Captain Marton Halász is dead.

Yeah, okay.
Are you sure this couldn't be solved

by Lizzy making you a plaque
for your grandma's building?

- Because Lizzy will make you a plaque.
- No, you're missing it, Maxine.

You see,
she doesn't have to make me anything,

because Marton made a son,
who made a son who lives in Budapest,

and is gonna give me all the answers.

I found where he works, where he lives,

what he looks like,
his two most recent ex-girlfriends...

Remind me to get off the Internet.

Too late. Don't worry.
Your nudes are tasteful.

They're not meant to be.

- Can you keep a secret?
- I have lots of practice.

Um...

I know for a fact that that wall

is going to come down.

Don't go.

You'll be reunited
with your family if you just wait.

Oh.

Wait? Mm-hmm.

Until when?

Uh, until 1989.

f*ck.

What game are you playing?

Asking me to wait 27 years
to see my family?

I might as well wait until
I'm a pensioner.

Okay, okay. I... I hadn't done the math,
and that... that is a long time,

but it is concrete,

risk-free hope for us.

Um...

Isn't it better to just wait until then?

Was Bruno right about you?

- Did you turn us in?
- Of course not.

- You sound like an informant.
- What? No. No, no, no.

Agnes, I understand you're nervous.

I'm nervous, too. Anyone...

No, I have information from the future.

Who knows what's gonna happen
in that tunnel, right?

The tunnel could flood,
or the Stasi will find you.

This is just basic risk analysis, right?

Even if I do stay, what happens to you?

Next year, you get your degree,
you return to Ghana.

Maybe then you make it to Moscow,
or who knows, even New York.

You've said so yourself.
You'll do anything for a better life.

Well, me too.

The problem is
that we have different lives.

Maybe we only

intersect here.

Maybe Nadia was right.
Maybe I am supposed to save you.

I don't need saving.

Who's Nadia?

- Whoa!
- Come on. Just leave it.

I can't take it with me anyway.
Leave. Please.

Sure.

Give us a smile!

Have you
ever heard of place lag?

It's not just time
that screws you up when you travel.

We aren't evolutionarily equipped
to jump 5000 miles overnight.

Our brains can't keep up. I love it.

Time zones, what a concept.

- That's him.
- Holy Willem Dafoe.

Uh, excuse me, Kristóf Halász, yes?

Well, your grandfather
knew my grandmother.

Uh, Vera Peschauer.

- American?
- Yes.

Well, Nadia is half-Hungarian.
She's finding her roots.

I hardly knew my grandfather.

I was never told much about him,
but I can guess why you're here.

He was on the wrong side of history,
and for that, I'm sorry.

I'm having friends over tonight,
so I can't stay. Apologies.

Hold on, I've got more questions.

Uh, did your grandfather
ever mention anything

about what actually happened
on that gold train?

I don't know, did he perhaps keep diaries?

Uh, look, do you know
anything at all about this?

Do you want to come with me?

Case open.

Holy sh*t.

Who the f*ck is this guy?

I'm Kristóf.

All right,
looks like that's Kristóf.

- It's Kristóf.
- Yeah.

- Follow me.
- Okay, officer.

This is what it means
to have friends over in Budapest?

This is the party floor,

if you like to dance.

Is there dancing on other floors?

Uh, different kind of dance.
Of the mind, not the body.

I can take you there if you want.

Just don't lose sight of the silver thread
that tethers you to life.

Uh, heady stuff, man. So listen,

uh, some people think
that some of these, uh, soldiers

secretly looted the train
and kept the goods for themselves.

- What?
- March 1944, before the Soviets invaded?

I thought we were here
to talk about Marton.

Marton?

This moment, this party is all I have.

See? Your friend understands.

Ah.

Are you a musician?

Who, me? No, but I work with sound.

- Oh!
- Jesus Christ.

Let me get you some drinks.

Great. Great.

f*cking waste of time, huh?

You think he'd make a good daddy?

What?

He doesn't have to know. He's very tall,
and he's very far from home.

Yeah,
he's also a n*zi twice removed.

I mean, this is the fall of man
we're talking about.

Yeah, exactly.

He fits right in
with everything I'm trying to say.

Oh my God. You know what? Great.

- Okay, you win. It's probably fine.
- All right, yeah.

You have my blessing.

I don't need it, but it's good to have.

Like a driver's license or a left hand.

Oh.

Thank you.

Congratulations.

- Go make friends.
- Great job.

f*cking sh*t.

All right, big boy time.

Did Grandma ever talk
to you about Berlin?

Okay, did she ever mention
anybody named Lenny?

I can't find any trace of him online.

She didn't talk much about that time.

So nothing about anybody
that she was seeing at the time, or...

We certainly didn't have
that kind of relationship.

And raising a child
as a single mother in this country

was enough to deal with,
as your grandmother often reminded me.

While I have you,

Emilia mentioned that it's been three days
and you haven't called.

- She thought the date went well.
- I... I...

I'm sorry, Mom? I gotta go.

Maybe this is exactly
what could've changed for Grandma.

Even if it isn't, I mean, I...

I'm sorry. Never mind.

I'm sorry. I love you.

Downstairs.

Huh.

Some type of f*ck-pile scenario.

Eh.

This is where to get it. f*cking weirdo.

Come on, give me something.

Ah.

Some sort of arts and crafts shop.

Great.

Huh.

Knick-knacks.

Well, at least you have
good taste in fashion. Black.

Mother lode.

I f*cking knew it.

I f*cking knew it.

Blood is thicker, Halász.

Uh...

Okay.

Smile!

B73...

Lenny?

I'm too late.

Right.

Right, right, right.

This f*cking guy.

Oh, wait.

What the f*ck?

What are you doing?

You know what we're doing.
What are you doing?

This guy's a f*cking
Arrow Cross n*zi, all right?

He's got a room full
of fascist memorabilia.

What did you do to my room?

Look, man, you lied to me.

I just met you. Jesus.

Am I expected to explain
such complexities to a stranger?

"Nice to meet you."

"I grew up with a father who hated
the foundation of his very existence

and was never able to make sense of it."

"Welcome to my party."

Uh... Uh...

You said you didn't know anything
about your grandfather.

My father dies,

I clean out his house,
and I find my grandfather's things.

Papers, medals, some clothes.

What am I meant to do?

As far as I can tell,
he was a deeply boring and awful man.

You guys have nothing in common, okay?

You... you're not helping, Maxine.

Look through everything.

Uh, I already did, pal.

I'm offering help, whatever you need.

What is that?

Perspective.

Huh.

Have you ever wanted
to separate from yourself?

I'm only human.

To view yourself with objective distance?

It's coexistence
and lack of existence at once.

Kristóf, you Hungarian god.

We weren't allowed to study LSD.

Acid was deemed too dangerous
for a Communist country.

It was a German chemist
who first synthesized it from Ayahuasca

back in the '50s.

It was actually a Hungarian chemist
who first discovered

the hallucinogenic properties of DMT.

You're also well-known
for the Rubik's Cube.

♪ Your own personal Jesus ♪

♪ Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who's there ♪

♪ Your own personal Jesus ♪

♪ Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who cares ♪

♪ Reach out, touch faith ♪

Where are we?

More like "when" are we.

Hello?

Never mind.

No.

Hmm.

Three, two, one.

Huh.

- Hmm.
- You know him? Mmm?

- Not personally.
- Mmm.

Hmm.

- What's with the rocks?
- It's a Jewish thing.

Putting rocks on graves.

- Oh. Mmm.
- Sign of respect. Yeah.

- You know, like in Schindler's List?
- Sure.

But this guy, uh,
Kiss László, is a priest.

Weird, even for Spielberg.

Yeah.

So...

I'm sorry I blew your sh*t
at having a Hungarian n*zi baby.

Yeah, that was f*cked up.

It's okay.

I'm sorry you didn't get
what you're looking for.

Should we go find Kristóf?

Nah, f*ck it.

Uh, I mean, that guy doesn't have
any more answers for me than I do for him.

Let's go home.

I wanna change everything in my life.

That makes one of us.

I think New York is, uh, east of...

So how'd it go?
Was it a successful trip?

I don't know, Ruthie. I mean,

uh, satiric answers I get.

Tangible ones, not so much.

Honey, we always think that closure
is something we can find

out there in the world,

as if we can find it in another person,

or a confession, or an apology.

See, in the end,

nothing can absolve us but ourselves.

See, that's exactly
what I'm supposed to say.

Lately, oh God,

I've just been wishing
I could tell your mother I'm sorry.

Ruthie, she needed to go
to an institution, yeah.

I mean, she was really f*cking sick.

Yeah.

I've just never heard you say that before.

What else did you find
in your mother's stuff?

I don't know, is, uh...
is grief a hot commodity?

Oh God, they hid everything,
your mother and grandmother.

And so much must have been lost.

God, you know,
under floorboards or buried under trees.

Oh God.

Which floorboards?

Oh, long gone.

Trauma is a topographical map
written on the child,

and it takes a lifetime to read.

Darling, come by tomorrow

if you're not sick of backgammon
and Bogart movies by now.

With you, Ruthie,

never.

Bye-bye.

f*ck.

What are we missing? What are we missing?

Huh?

God, you're good.

One more trip to '82
won't k*ll us, Oatmeal.

Now arriving
Budapest, Keleti Station.