04x12 - Episode 40

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "Babylon Berlin". Aired: 13 October 2017 – present.
Police commissioner Gereon Rath is transferred from Cologne to Berlin, the epicenter of political and social change in the Golden Twenties.
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04x12 - Episode 40

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- Ready, men?

- Yes, sir!

- Are you ready?

- Yeah!



- SA is taking over.

- Out of the way.

SA is taking over.

- What's going on?

- Away from the tables.

SA is taking over. You'll wait for orders.


Join us!

- Take-over!

- Sit down.

- What is this?

- Are you nuts?

- Sit down.

- Stay in your seat.

Hey! Leave that man alone!

You will all have to stand trial

in party court!

You are responsible

for this afternoon's edition?

Yes. And I warn you.

This will have consequences.

This afternoon's edition will be changed.

It's already printed.


- Where is the edition?

Here are the first prints.

Police headquarter?

Councilor Wendt, please, and fast.

Morning, gentlemen.

Who have we got here?

This is Wendt.

Who is this?


Say goodbye to quick fame,

Count Helldorff.

Sieg Heil, gentlemen.

We are taking over the leadership.

You may join us

or refuse the renewal of the party.


We're exchanging the front page.

With this one.

- You will print this. Now.

- No, you won't.

- Into the basement with him.

- Get up, come on!

Comrades, this is not a coup.

This is the SA's revolt against

h*tler's submissive vasalls in Munich.

Join us! The future is ours.

Troop leader, we need


h*tler is gone, Mr. Jacoby.

Yes. Of course.




you're betraying the movement!

You will all have to stand trial

in a party court!

You are abusing your office and your

power if you don't end this coup.

- Which coup?

- You will be held accountable.

For what?

For not confronting the marauding mob!

Enlighten me, councilor.

Where is a marauding mob, please?

The building of a legal party

was occupied,

and the police doesn't intervene?

As far as I know, this is the headquarters

of a party

who is having an internal dispute

with their own executive body.

I can call the president of the Reich.

I wonder how he sees the situation.

In this matter, there is no one above me.

I decide whether we intervene or not.

But first, councilor, as your superior,

I command you not to do anything.

This is your plan.

You want them to tear each other apart.

You want Stennes to take over.

Because he doesn't mobilize the masses

like h*tler.

And he doesn't want to be eligible

at any cost.

Because he won't make the party big,

and because you think

you can keep him at bay.

I have no idea what you are on about.

It was always just about that.

You are no police officer.

You don't act in the interest of the state

or the citizens or the safety of our city.

You are exclusively a servant

of your party and nothing else.

How many men can we activate?

- Arrange it.

- Do as I tell you, Sebald.

And call the leader of the Berlin SS.

We will arm his troops with police g*n.

Our 12 men plus one SS century,

that will be enough.

And Grzesinski?

He can confront them

if he has the guts to do it.

There he is.

Editorial office going to plan.

- Our edition is being printed?

Good. This traitor tried to inform

the police and good old Wendt.

Shut up, Stennes.

- What about Goebbels?

- He's with Quandt.

Having fun with a manufacturer's spouse.

Then you are all in for it.

We'll take care of it, thank you.

He'll be fuming.

But by then, it'll be too late.

By then, we'll have the party

tow our line.

You will lose.

That's enough.

Oh yeah?

How would you deal

with traitors like him?

Punish them.

A death sentence?

If need be, yes.

Show him how we treat rabble like him.

You're the worst of all.


Into the basement. Let the pig bleed out.

Slowly, until it squeals.

We don't know blood, only convictions.

Put him in the basement too.

I'll deal with him personally.

Come on, quick.

Get your g*n and sign for them.

Right, men, let's do it.

We'll depart as soon as we're complete.


Signature and get your g*n, quick.

Swiftly. Hurry up.

- Operator.

- In-house operations management.

On the double!

- How is this possible?

- Wendt mobilized them.

They are on their way.

SS are coming.

Go in and win, men!

You, get lost. Out!

- No!

- Comrades!

Every single one of you is about

to achieve something great.

The party is not the leader

of the movement.

No, that's us! The SA!

that Private h*tler

has resigned from the chair.

is history!

Our Gauleiter Goebbels and his men

are backing us in unison.

Our victory!


We are the storm troops

We are ready for anything

We are the front rows

We att*ck with courage

The storm troops are standing up

Individual f*re on my command.

We are ready for the fight

Only when the Jews are bleeding


- Hey!

- Are you nuts?

- Traitors! Are you crazy?

- f*re.

Are you crazy?

- Hey! You can't do this!

- Sturmabteilung!

Give yourselves up, or die!

- What is this? We're comrades!

- Down with the truncheons!

On the floor!

Truncheons on the floor!

Now or never!

Go on!

Hands in the air!

- Take them away.

- Go on.

- Come on.

- Take over the building.

SS takes over!

- w*apon on the floor.

- Everyone out!

Into the corner!

An almost unarmed uprising.

I thought you were capable of more,


Germans don't sh**t at Germans.

Away with this.

The mole, after all.

I didn't want this.

Even if you're a traitor.


My strict command was,

no one must hear of this.

Absolutely no one.

Not even you.

be it Stennes or Helldorff,

be it Goebbels or h*tler,

they all have the same goal.

No matter how much they fight internally.

- Yeah?

- Yeah.

They want to subjugate our state

and lead the people into a new w*r.


Stennes would have had me k*lled

without batting an eyelash.

Do you want to live in a country

which is led by people like that?



This hour of hardship

in the future.

My condolences, madam.

Alfred, may I introduce Mr. Blank?

I have told you about him.

Why don't you bring Mr. h*tler next time?

We'd love to give a dinner for him.

Don't we, Alfred?


By all means.

I'm sure that can be arranged.

Our condolences.


What's your final word?

Thank you.

Take care, and arrive safely.


Be so kind and check on his grave

every now and then.

Be so kind.

8Why was everyone listening to Wendt?

How was he able to give a century of SS

police g*n?

He used them for an illegal operation.

And no one here stopped him.

How was that possible, sir?

I can open

a disciplinary procedure against him,

but his support in this house

is stronger than we think.

Councilor Wendt, sir.

Is this the meeting

of the conspirational club

"Berlin police against unwelcome

associations and parties"?

Your sarcasm

won't whitewash your slate.

What did I dirty it with, if I may ask?

With arming illegal combat units for

breaking up a conflict within a party.

You had no authority for any of this.

I run the political division

of the Berlin police.

Intervention in party matters,

if they concern or restrict

the general public interest,

is the central task of this division.

You used the SS to back up

Adolf h*tler's Munich leadership.

You did nothing but enforce

your personal political goals by force.

And you?

You sneak into a legal organization

as if it was organized crime.

Who gives you the authority

to destabilize one of many parties

in our liberal democracy?

Since when has this been

the task of this institution?

I won't enter an ideological dispute with

categorical demagogues like you.

I'm aware of that.

But this way, you will miss

the tide of society turning.

Against you and your

outdated politics of stagnation.

It's been a pleasure, gentlemen.

for the rebels.

The mutiny of Police Captain Stennes.

No SA man obeys the orders

of a disloyal traitor.

It was nothing less than

an attempted coup

against the leadership of a legal party.

Loyalty to h*tler rules the field.

We had to take drastic measures

to restore order.

The NSDAP stands unwaveringly,

for this is our slogan.




- Operator, which number?

- Wilmersdorf 31-10, please.


- Charlotte Ritter speaking.

- Miss Ritter.

- Were you able to achieve something?

- Yes, indeed. And I have good news.

There is a place for your sister.

She is with me right now.

I will accompany her

to Insel Scharfenberg right now.

Great, I'm very happy.

- Thank you! Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

Please come with me, Antonie.

There you are.

Shall we go?


- Where to?

- Westwards.

Hop on.

- Hi.

- Hi.

- Come with me?

- Yes.

Where to?

A boxing match.

Are you sure?

Kulanin, yes.

He's left the country.

Where to?

- The United States, New York.

- When does it take off?

In about an hour.

Stop the guy,

under any circumstances.

- I have already arranged it.

- Good.

I'm on my way.

Your documents, please.

- Ms. Korda, an autograph, please.

- Of course.

Ms. Korda, what are your plans

for the future?

- Oskar Kulani?

- What is it?

Passport control.

- Again?

- We need to check your papers again.

Of course.

Let's call my superior.

Come with me.

- Does he look like you?

- Not at all, actually.

And what's he like?

Very friendly, actually.

He doesn't look like a boxer.

More like a dancer.

- Yeah?

- This is him.

Johann "Rukeli" Trollmann.

I'm a little excited.

Shall we place a bet?

- You mean on Rukeli?

- Sure.

- Three marks.

- Three marks.

- 3.50.

- 3.90 marks.

- On Johann Trollmann winning.

- OK.

I'm not betting on some provincial guy

just coz you say so.

We're betting the last farthing you earned

from the primates at Der Angriff

so that the money can be used

for a good cause after all.

Which is?

The purchase of records,

alcoholic beverages, tobacco.

- Reinhold.

- Charlotte.

- Your betting slip.

- Thank you. What are the odds?

5:1. Your guy is the outsider.

- Who are you betting on?

- The gypsy from Hanover.

- So do we!

- We?

- Detective.

I heard you gave up your side job?

I heard so did you.

You can't juggle too many b*lls at once.

It confuses the metabolism.

Thanks to Reinhold, I can hope that a

well-placed bet saves my existence.

- Do you know about boxing?

- No.

Is this the serious public announcement

of long-hidden amourous dealings

which we should toast with a drink?

Is this confidential

or am I speaking to the press?

The only journalist

present is unemployed.

Dear boxing friends,

please take your seats.

- The interview needs postponing.

- Yes, please. Where are you sitting?

In the pit, block one, row two.

High society seats. How come?

- Connections.

- We are standing.

- In the circle block 14.

- That's right. This way. See you later.

See you.

Is that him?

With whom do I have the honor?

Wendt, Councilor.

The airship is about to take off.

Let me board.

You won't be boarding this zeppelin.

We have a few questions

which you won't be answering in this hall.

What am I charged with?

Confiscate the briefcase.

Give me the key.

That's not possible.

Who are you?

of the American embassy.

What is going on?

This man won't be able

to leave the country for now.

I don't think you can stop him.

He is traveling on behalf

of the American government.


Surely you don't want

to violate my diplomatic immunity,


Only if you want

to provoke an international crisis.

Thank you, General.

Goodbye, Major.

Ladies and gentlemen,

please take your seats now.

The main fight will begin

in a few minutes.

Germany to the Germans,

Do you know them?

In front on the left, close to the ring

they've planted themselves,

the scoundrels.

- Another one.

- How many?

Sixty, seventy, maybe more.

They're pulling the gypsy bullshit.

I'll turn them.

That's what you imagine, do you?

Wait and see.

Off we go.

You'll blow him away.

Ladies and gentlemen,

dear friends of boxing.

Welcome to the Sportspalast in Berlin

for the main fight of tonight.

Please welcome both of the boxers.

We have 15 rounds

of cruiser weight tonight.

That's him!

Focus. Don't get distracted

and no shenanigans, get it? Good.

First, I'll introduce the boxer

in the white pants.

Our local hero from Berlin, Willy Bolze.

His opponent in the black pants,

from Hanover, Johann Trollmann.

The referee of this fight

is Joseph Krause from Berlin.

Gypsy! Little finger, whole hand

Gypsies out of our land!

- Be quiet!

- Gypsy friends or what?

I'll come over!

You know the rules.

I expect a fair, clean fight.

Shake hands and go to your corners.

The two athletes have met before, two

Willy Bolze and Johann Trollmann.

- Clear the ring!

- And we start with the first round.

Willy Bolze, the battering ram

from Rixdorf,

the ruffian from Berlin

with a rather rustic technique,

and on the other side is Johann

Trollmann. He dances and jumps,

he's known for his unusual technique,

left jab here, right jab there, he

changes his leading hand every second,

ladies and gentlemen.

He is dancing around Bolze.

Bolze is trying to h*t him

and use his power to his advantage.

And there's a h*t.

Trollmann is going for it.

- He's aggressive in this first duel.

- Well done, Rukeli!

Bravo! Bravo!

Bolze is on the ground.

A direct h*t by Trollmann.

Bolze is getting up again,

with a determined gaze

and his heart in his hand

he is going back into the fight.

Trollmann is waiting for him.

Again, they are dancing around

Is this seat free?

Why, of course.

It would be my pleasure.

Are you leaving Berlin for longer?


holding you back.

Family affairs.

Madame Korda,

your table is ready now.

- Goldstein.

Abe Goldstein.


And now to Moscow, Comrade?

The embassy will do for now.

Just a few seconds left of round four,

and if it goes on like this,

Bolze won't be leaving the ring

on his own feet tonight.

The bell saves the local hero.

But slowly, enthusiasm is building

for the agility, the flexibility,

the speed of the dark-skinned outsider.

Did you hear?

- Lower the cover and then a hook.

That's it, Willy!

You've got him!

- Yes!

- Get out of the corner!

It's an open exchange of bl*ws.

But Trollmann is not discouraged.


Trollmann lands one blow after the other,

apparently with rage in his belly.

For the second time,

Bolze is on the floor.

That h*t home. The Berliner is having

a hard time getting up again.

Have the people in charge

been held accountable?

They got what they deserved, yes.

What about you?

How come you are off the New York?

I'm hiding home.

Home? Didn't say

you were a Russian spy?

That's true.

But not for the communists.

Mister Kulanin?

Your table is ready. Number four.

My table? I didn't reserve

a table for tonight.

Yes, the young man is waiting for you.

Any useful advice for me, my friend?

Don't ever believe your own lies.

Round eight has g*n at Sportpalast

in Berlin, ladies and gentlemen.

The local hero is faltering,

he's teetering.

He tries to hide his drowsiness.

But it would take a miracle to save him.

- What's the matter with you?

- That's unfair!

Yuck! Gypsy pig, get lost!

Go home!


Trollmann is on the ground, badly h*t.

The referee is counting him down.

A moment of confusion could take away

the victory he thought was his.

Trollmann is up again,

but he's teetering, he is rocking like

a boat on Lake Wannsee,

but he is determined to keep fighting.

He's approaching Bolze again,

tries to h*t him.

And there is the bell, interrupting

this furious counter-att*ck.

It was a heavy punch,

ladies and gentlemen,

hitting him unexpectedly

like a bolt out of the blue.

What's the matter? Trollmann looks like a

master baker, all white like a ghost.

The audience is thrilled to bits.

Trollmann delivers punch on punch.

Apparently with rage in his belly.

Oh yes. Something has been building

up in Johann "Rukeli" Trollmann.

He's obviously going the whole hog now.

- Get up!

That's it!


Hey, what do you want?

Do you want to crown the twerp now?

Gereon. Gereon!

I'll be right back.

Get your people out of here, dammit!

If you rig the fights in favor of this

antisocial rabble,

you shouldn't be surprised

about the trouble!

Get lost.

Right now.

The whole g*ng.

Men! Comrades!

We're leaving.

8Forward march! This is an order!

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a

winner through knock-out in round nine.

Johann "Rukeli" Trollmann!

Everything all right?

How much did we win?

Don't know.

- But we'll blow it all now.

- Fine. Let's go.

Hey, look. It's Emil!

- That's him.

- Emil Engels.

Two schnapps.

I almost forgot.

A ring?

Gennat says hi.

A second chance. If you want.

Tomorrow is tomorrow. Now is now.


A dance?

Life, is it but a dream?

It would be nice, I doubt

That it's true

Be careful, it's easily forgotten

The truth is very simple

Nothing remains as it is

A day like gold

You have everything you want

Greetings to Moscow,

Paris and Vienna

We wave to you

Everyone is coming to Berlin

Everything shrill, everyone wants it

They all knew all along that we're crazy

A day like gold

What remains will be declared

A shimmer,

what do I care about balances

Let's dance


Are you ready?

I'll do it.

On my own.

I hear you want me d*ad.


Isn't that why you've come here, Gereon?

To see me die?

No. Not anymore.

It's over.

Our pact.

It ends here.

I'm not afraid anymore.

It has run dry.

Then you've reached your goal.

Come and see.

Look at it.

They are waiting.

The ill-treated masses.

Now you are ready to lead them.

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