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Le téléchargement nécessite un accès à la bibliothèque YouScribe Tout savoir sur nos offres
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Le téléchargement nécessite un accès à la bibliothèque YouScribe Tout savoir sur nos offres
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Nombre de lectures
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English
Publié par
Nombre de lectures
2
Licence :
Langue
English
INGRID "I wish we'd said goodbye at the front door and it was finished. And you could have a nice and pleasant journey on your own."
Harrer turns to her, fed up.
"Why must you be this way? Why is there always a problem? It's a good question. Life is not always convenient."
(pretending to humor her)
Do you want to go home, do you want to turn around?"
"Yes."
"It's the Himalayas! How long have I been talking about the Himalayas? How long?"
Ingrid seems to retreat into herself, shaken.
"Far too long."
A meek man - HORST IMMENDORF - drives the car, pretending to ignore the tensions in the back seat. Ingrid leans forward.
"Horst, when we get there, can you give me a hand?"
"Yes, of course."
Harrer rolls his eyes, thinks she's begging for sympathy.
"Oh, Ingrid. Stop it."
The car stops across from the busy station; NAZI SOLDIERS stream toward the entrance, above which hangs a huge swastika flag. Harrer gatheres his rucksack, takes Ingrid's hand and leads her through the crowds.
"Try to make this pleasant."
The station is teeming with more Nazi soldiers. Harrer drags Ingrid past TRAVELERS waiting in line to purchase tickes, searching for someone.
"Where is that idiot who's supposed to meet us?"
Spotting Harrer, a tall thin MAN of exquisite precision approaches him: PETER AUFSCHNAITER. Aufschnaiter has a stack of tickets in his hand.
"Mister Harrer? I have your tickets - "
Harrer grabs the tickets from Aufschnaiter's hands.
"Fine. I'm late. Take me to my train - "
"No, no, no. You don't understand... (modestly) I am Peter Aufschnaiter. I'm leading the expedition. How do you do?"
Smiling shyly, Aufschnaiter extends a hand. Sizing up this unprepossessing man, Harrer shakes Aufschnaiter's hand, wearing an expression of acute disappointment.
As Harrer, Ingrid, and Horst emerge from the ticket room into the station, they see two platforms up ahead where the crowd of German SOLDIERS file onto trains.
As Harrer, Ingrid, and Horst make their way toward their train, a robust NAZI OFFICIAL spots Harrer and makes a beeline toward him.
"Ah, here's our celebrity. (reaches Harrer) May I say, Mr. Harrer, on behalf of the Reichssportsfuhrer, we are honored to have such a great German hero on the team."
"Thank you. But I'm Austrian."
Leading Harrer past throngs of people, the Official gestures to the Photographer who hurries over as the Official grandly presents Harrer with a small Nazi flag. The Photographer snaps a photo.
"Yes, but I'm sure that, as a distinguished member of the National Socialist Party, you will be proud to plant our country's flag on the summit of Nanga Parbat...when you reach it." (slowing down) I am quite sure the man who conquered the Eiger North Wall can subdue the gods of "our mountain" in the Himalayas."
Harrer takes the flag. CAMERAS FLASH. They reach a car where Aufschnaiter is waiting with two other climbers: HANS LOBENHOFFER and LUTZ CHICKEN, a kind of German Frick and Frack duo. The two teammates extend their hands to offer introductions to Harrer.
"Hans Lobenhoffer."
"Lutz Chicken."
Harrer dutifully shakes their hands. CAMERAS FLASH:
"And a picture with your lovely wife."
Harrer shoots Ingrid an imploring look, pulls her close to him. She smiles wanly when the CAMERAS FLASH. The official gestures to Horst.
"And Mister..."
"Horst Immendorf. Family friend. No picture necessary."
As the Photographer fires off a few more shots, Harrer flashes a bright, exuberant smile - in sharp contrast to the impacted sorrow underlying Ingrid's smile. He has perfected a breezy public persona, and the effortlessness of his act only adds to her misery.
"When is the little one due, Mrs. Harrer?"
He is pointing to Ingrid's belly. And for the first time, the CAMERA REVEALS what has been hidden: Ingrid is seven and a half months pregnant. The question strikes her deep in the heart and causes Harrer's smile to fade.
"Approximately the same time as my husband reaches base camp."
With that, she breaks away and visibly struggles to keep her emotions in check. Harrer grabs her, drags her away from the media onslaught.
"Why don't you tell the whole country our problems?"
Her eyes brim with tears; she is close to breaking down.
"I'm getting on that train. Is there anything you want to say to me?"
She stares mutely at him, appalled by his lack of feeling.
"Fine. Go. Leave. I'll see you in four months."
EXT. PLATFORM - POV - THROUGH WINDOW: Ingrid and Horst turning away from the platform, heading through the station. She is crying uncontrollably. Horst wraps his arm around her, tries to console her.
Harrer watching, consumed with guilt. He moves down the aisle, passing a compartment where the three other members of his team are already seated. An empty spot is waiting for Harrer.
Unable to face them, Harrer keeps moving, heads into another compartment.
A map showing the course of Harrer's journey, through Europe by train, into Asia by boat. Toward a mountain peak in the Himalayas - the name, Nanga Parbat.
Harrer's voice narrates as we follow the winding path toward his destination.
We will travel five thousand miles. When we reach India, we will head for the Himalayas and the ninth highest peak on Earth, Nanga Parbat. The name means "Naked Mountain." Germany calls it Unser Berg, "Our Mountain." Before us, four German expeditions attempted it. All failed. Eleven climbers were killed in storms and avalanches. By now, the conquest of Nanga Parbat is a national obsession, a matter of German pride.
"Let's hope Germany retreats from Poland as quickly as you did from "your mountain" , Herr Harrer. It might reduce your prison time."
"What's is this?"
"You are under arrest."
"What's the charge? Failure to reach thesummit?"
"I'm afraid not."
"War has broken out between His Majesty's Government and Germany. All enemy aliens on British Empire soil are prisoners of war."
HARRER(V.0.) October 15, 1939. Reaching prison camp, I make a promise to myself...
Each step into the camp plunges Harrer deeper into despair. Then his gaze lights on something which lifts his spirits. He keeps staring straight ahead, at POV-THE HIMALYAYAS: The mountains form a white- rimmed, rocky spine to the north.
HARRER(V.O.) I will be lying beside Ingrid before summer solstice of the new year. The mountains are right in front of us. It will be easy to escape and get lost in them.
"Would you like to come with us?"
"Why?"
"After all, you're the authority on jailbreak around here."
"We could benefit from your experience..."
Exasperated, Aufschnaiter interrupts.
"Please stop this gruesome charade. (Pauses) Every time you escape, Heinrich, patrols are doubled and tripled. It's making life difficult for the rest of us."
"I prefer to travel on my own. But thanks for thinking of me."
Hundreds of prisoners swill gruel at long tables. Harrer, by himself, eats quickly, never looking up. Aufschnaiter passes by, sets something beside Harrer's plate.
The mailman has come.
Harrer glances down at a THICK ENVELOPE addressed to a guard at the camp. From Ingrid Harrer in Austria. Harrer picks up the envelope, overwhelmed. Looks around to thank Aufschnaiter. But he's already seated at another table with Chicken and Lobenhoffer.
Harrer lowers himself onto his cot. Opens the envelope and pulls out a SHEAF OF STAPLED PAPERS. A NOTE flutters to the ground. As he studies the sheaf of papers, his eagerness turns to confusion, then despair. CLOSE ON SHEAF OF PAPERS: They are divorce papers drafted by an Austrian lawyer.
Harrer reaches down, plucks the note from the floor. Read it.
INGRID(O.S.) Dear Heinrich, Please sign the enclosed divorce papers and send them to my lawyer. Horst and I intend to be married as soon as the divorce is finalized. As for your letter, yes, your son Rolf Harrer was born while you were climbing the mountain. He is now two years old and calls Horst "papa." When he is old enough, I will tell him his real father was lost in the Himalayas. It seems the kindest thing to say, considering you never wanted the child anyway. Needless to say, I have no intention of "resolving our differences," as you suggested. They were resolved the moment you left Austria. I am sorry you have been imprisoned in India and hope this dreadful war will soon be over, for everyone's sake. Ingrid.
Rain stil pours. Harrer steps out of the barracks and walks the perimeter of the yard. He stops, leans against the wall of barbed wire, holds onto it for support. It takes him a moment to realize he has grasped the wire so hard, his hands are bleeding. As if pulling himself from a trance, he steps back. Stares at the fence. Then hauls off and kicks it with all his strengh-- cursing and slamming his boots into the barbed wire until he's too drained to continue.
"I'm coming with you."
"Take two and sleep it off. I'll send you a bill in the morning."
(groans) "What are you doing here?"
"I missed you so much, Heinrich, I thought I'd stop by for a visit."
"Where are the others?"
"The Italians were caught outside Nelang. Lutz and Hans took ill and had to turn back."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"I'm sure you're heartbroken. (exhausted) May I impose upon your generous nature and camp here tonight?"
"Please....be my guest."
"Very gracious of you."
"You might be interested to know...I've heard the Japanese have retreated all the way to Shanghai. Even if you reach the Chinese border, you may never catch up with them."
"I don't care if the Japanese get repelled all the way back to Tokyo."
"You will if you plan to get back to Austria."
"But I don't."
"You don't what?"
"Plan to go back..."home"."
"Why not?"
"No particular reason. (feigning boredom) But when you get there, tell my wife that two years in prison camp was roughly equivalent to four years of marriage. And I'm glad to be free of both."
His bitterness gives Aufschnaiter pause; he hesitates before speaking.
"I'm not going back either. At least until this shameful war is over."
Now it's Harrer's turn to be surprized.
"Where are you headed?"
"Not negotiable. My father gave it to me when I climbed Mont Blanc."
"Everyone's climbed Mont Blanc, Peter." (reprovingly) "If I had a watch like that, I'd trade it."
Aufschnaiter stiffens with resentment, then removes his watch and commences trading with the vendor.
Harrer drags himself to his feet, staggers over to the edge of plateau. Beyond, the Tibetan plain spreads out as vast and wide as an ocean. Harrer slowly wanders the perimeter of the plateau, scouts for their Guides.
Aufschnaiter, lying on the ground, turns his head, his eyes only inches from Harrer's open knapsack. A few provisions spill out. Aufschnaiter sees something shiny inside the pack, tilts his head closer to get a better look, dismayed by what Harrer has hidden. He reaches in, pulls out three WATCHES tied together with a rubber band, and Harrer's gold wedding band. Aufschnaiter scrambles to his feet and marches over to Harrer, who's still at the edge of plateau.
Harrer turns when he hears footsteps. Faces Aufschnaiter.
"Know what time it is?"
Harrer is shocked to see mild-mannered Aufschnaiter flushing with rage. Aufschnaiter hurls the watches toward Harrer.
"Refresh my memory. What did you say at the bazaar back there?" (livid) ""If I had a watch like that, I'd trade it." You don't have one, you cheap lying bastard, you have three!"
Harrer straightens up, unruffled.
"You have a problem, Peter?"
"You think I'm so happy to travel with you, I should foot the bill? You're such a big man you don't need to contribute?"
(dangles the watches) "This is junk. From some Italian prisoners."
"I don't give a shit! Haven't you ever heard of a principle?"
(derisively) "Go ahead. Take one. And keep your principles."
Handing Aufschnaiter the packet of watches, Harrer starts moving, tries to put some distance between them.
"Look at you. Caught being a selfish prick and you're gloating."
"You sound like an old woman, Peter. What do you want me to do?"
"Try Apologizing. Try feeling a little remorse. If all else fails, try wiping that smirk off your face."
(pushes him) "Take a watch and shut up! I don't need another boring sermon from some frustrated , glorified tour guide."
Aufschnaiter spins around, takes a few steps, and grabs his knapsack.
"No wonder you're always alone. Who could stand your miserable company?"
Tossing the watches back to Harrer, Aufschnaiter turns and stalks down the trail. Watching him descend, Harrer shrugs his shoulders: no big loss. Then, as Aufschnaiter gets farther away, Harrer goes slack with remorse. Abruptly grabs his pack and streaks like a bullet down the center of the hill, bypassing the switchbacks until he is gaining on Aufschnaiter.
Reaching Aufschnaiter, Harrer pauses to catch his breath. Cautiously extends his hand. In it are the watches and Harrer's wedding ring.
"Please take them." (pauses, embarrassed) "It was wrong to hide them."
It's probably the first time in his life he's admitted he was wrong. Aufschnaiter accepts the watches but removes the wedding ring.
"Keep this."
"No. I didn't deserve it, either."
He shoots such a plangent look of remorse, Aufschnaiter is oddly moved, quietly accepts the ring.
"...He's about three and a half years old now. Pretty soon, she'll tell him I got lost in the Himalayas. So he'll have a dead father. Which is fine with me."
Harrer and Aufschnaiter lie wrapped in their blankets.
"Why?"
"Better a dead father than a lousy father."
A long silence as they stare up at the sky.
"Write him a letter and tell him you're alive."
"Dear Rolf Harrer, I am a person you don't know. A man you've never met...But you are someone who occupies my mind...and my heart...in this distant land where I've gone. If you can imagine a hidden place, tucked safely away from the world...concealed by walls of high, snow-capped mountains...a place rich with all the strange beauty of your nighttime dreams...Then you know where I am."
"In the country where I'm traveling - Tibet - people believe if they walk long distances to holy places...it purifies the bad deeds they've committed...They believe the more difficult the journey, the greater the depth of purification."
"...In this place where time stands still, it seems that everything is moving. Including me. I can't say I know where I'm going. Nor whether my bad deeds can be purified...there are so may things I've done which I regret. But when I come to a full stop, I hope you will understand that the distance between us is not as great as it seems...With deep affection, your father...Heinrich Harrer."
Harrer rips open the envelope, reads the letter. And deflates. In a hollow whisper, he reads it aloud.
"Dear Mister Heinrich Harrer, You are not my father. Please stop writing me letters. Rolf Immendorf."
Entering first, Harrer takes a few steps and involuntarily looks up to the Dalai Lama's high throne. He is shocked to see the thirteen-year-old avatar grinning excitedly at him, like a long lost friend. A look of surprise and deep, overwhelming pleasure lights Harrer's face. The two of them lock eyes, staring. Utterly scandalized, the Dalai Lama's mother bows and prostrates. Harrer dutifully bows. Tries a clunky prostration and nearly trips. The Dalai Lama laughs with delight.
"Your Holiness, it is a great honor to meet you."
He heads back to his seat. Remembers he's not to turn his back to the Dalai Lama and awkwardly attemps walking backwards. He takes his seat and politely waits for the Dalai Lama to speak first.
With urgent seriousness, the Dalai Lama begins the audience.
"Do you like movies?"
"Well...I haven't seen one in about eight years. But as I recall, yes, I do."
"So do I."
"I'm glad to know that, Your Holiness."
"I have a movie projector. And films. One of female dancers being hatched out of eggs."
"That could be a bit racy. (the mother clears her throat) It sounds wonderfully educational, Your Holiness."
"I want to build a movie house. Here at the Potala. With seats and everything."
"Seats would be advisable."
"Can you build it?"
"Excuse me?"
"Can you build a movie house for me? My advisors cannot disapprove and you will be well paid."
The mother knits her eyebrows in consternation. She wasn't informed of this plan. Now the Dalai Lama speaks in a fast torrent of words, desperate to say everything at once.
"And you will have to come here every day to build it. Every single day. And when you're here, you will visit me. We can have conversations. On many topics. I would like to learn about the world you come from. (breathless) For example...where is Paris, France? And what is a Molotov Cocktail? And who is Jack the Ripper?"
"Kundun..."
Realizing she has interrupted her son, she stops herself. The Dalai Lama knows he's going out on a limb, but is determined to have his way.
"You can tell me many things."
Harrer folds his hands together, bows his head. Then glances surreptitiously at the Dalai Lama, full of admiration.
"I am proud to be of service, Your Holiness."
"When you face the light, it's day. When you're in shadow, it's night. So when the sun in rising in Lhasa, it's setting far to the west, in New York City, for example. That's why it's not the same time everywhere. (solicitously) Does that answer your question?"
Nodding, the Dalai Lama spots the poker-faced Master of the Kitchen approaching and he quickly hops onto his throne. Both are silent as the Master serves the Dalai Lama butter tea, covering his mouth with a hand so as not to breathe on the serving. Taking his leave, he walks backwards. The moment he's gone, the Dalai Lama scrambles off the throne, impulsively takes Harrer's hand in his.
"Tell me more, tell me more."