[guard] Weiter!
Weiter!
[musicians playing Wagner's "Kaisermarsch"]
[guard speaking German] Do you hear that, Jews?
It's the music of kings!
Of Wagner! Of the Reich!
[guard 2] Weiter, weiter.
Wonderful.
It's now or never...
One... Two... Three!
[playing "Hava Nagila"]
Stop the Jew music!
Stop the damned Jew music!
You hear me?
Didn't you hear me?
What did I say?
Stop!
Enough!
Stop it!
What is wrong with you?
Do you all want to die?
Stop!
Enough!
Stop!
- [gunshot] - [grunts]
[crows cawing]
[violinist] [faintly] ♪ Hava nagila, hava ♪
- ♪ Nagila, hava ♪ - [guard] Stop!
- Stop! - ♪ Nagila venis mecha ♪
♪ Hava ♪♪
Well...
What is it?
Go on!
Enough!
March on...
Immediately!
Go on!
[guard 2] Weiter, weiter!
[softly humming "Hava Nagila"]
[several humming softly]
[all humming]
[humming continues]
♪ ♪
[Meyer] And on the Second Day,
God created
The Hunters, an elite team,
hungry for Nazi slaughter.
[Harriet] Meyer, love, care to enlighten us
as to what the bloody fuck the kid is doing here?
[Lonny] Jesus, show a little Christian charity.
[Jonah] Holy shit, you're Lonny Flash.
[Lonny] Ah...
love the fans.
- Come on, let's go. - [Murray] No...
- [Meyer] Another sweep of files. - [Roxy] Didn't realize
- we were running a kindergarten. - [overlapping chatter]
There may be something in Richter's things here,
if we dig.
So let's dive in.
[Roxy] Mr. O, I'm not risking going to jail
'cause you got a soft spot for Ruth's grandkid.
Now, you're not paying me enough for this shit.
[Harriet] Oh, you're the only one he's paying at all,
- dearie. - Some of us got responsibilities.
[Mindy] Meyer, Ruthie
- wanted the boy kept from this place. - That's right.
- He is meant to be here. - [Joe] No, he is not.
[Meyer] Yes, he is.
[overlapping arguing]
- [Murray] But she didn't want this. - [Meyer] Trust me.
[arguing continues]
♪ ♪
- [arguing continues] - Hey, hey, hey, hey.
- Who's "Karl Holstedder"? - What did you say?
Who's "Karl Holstedder"?
- Uh... - [Meyer] Yes.
Gene Martin, aka Heinz Richter?
- Yes. - This letter was among his things
in the toy shop. Every eighth letter,
"Send instructions #4...
- Right. - ...to Karl Holstedder.
147 Ocean Way...
- Yes. - ...Port Washington, New York." It's a...
- It's a coded message. - Yes.
Encyclopedia Brown-stein over here.
[Meyer] You can't change a creature's nature.
A bear hunts. A hog shits.
A Nazi plots.
[Harriet] Plots bloody what?
We follow the crumbs, we trail the rats,
we find the feast.
[Joe] There's no Karl Holstedder on the list.
I know that. So we search the Ark.
[Lonny] We're all gonna fit in here?
[Joe] Maybe your 'stache...
Bringing the kid was a big mistake.
You know what? I... I'm not a kid. Okay?
I was bar mitzvahed seven years ago, Sister.
Chanted a little Leviticus, boogied to Mungo Jerry.
After my haftorah, got an over-the-pants hand job
from Ruchel Rekenstein.
I know you think I'm this undescended testicle,
but I'm old enough to drink, smoke, enlist in the Army, so...
I'm not a kid.
And unless you want to Greyhound over
to the Indian casino
and recruit the Navajo Windtalkers,
I think you fucking need me.
One misstep and I will do things to you so traumatizing,
you'll wet your knickers any time you even see
Mary fucking Poppins on the telly.
Marvelous.
Now that we're all mishpachah,
let's go find this Karl Holstedder motherfucker,
shall we?
[Harriet] Hmm. Leave no stone unturned.
No.
[Harriet] Pore over every file.
Look for anything connected to a Karl Holstedder
or 147 Ocean Way.
- So this is... - The Ark.
This is the house that Ruth built.
She did this.
Like Noah before her,
Ruth built a vessel to guard from extinction
today's endangered species:
memory, truth.
[Jonah] How?
- How did she do all this? - [Meyer] She unearthed
all the classified files,
records, interviewed thousands of survivors.
Everywhere you look, everything you see
Ruth touched.
♪ ♪
Wish I knew about all this while she was still around.
She's still around, kindeleh.
The Ark breathes of her.
It beats of her.
[Meyer] Can't you feel it?
She is here.
♪ ♪
Where do I start?
[knocking on door]
Sommers!
Sommers, open up!
[man] Hey, lady, it's 5:00 in the fucking morning!
Sir, don't fuck with me right now, okay? Sommers!
- What the hell are you doing? - Hey...
You...
[Morris] I went by Gretel's place.
What, you been there all night?
Uh-huh. I had a hunch.
So... I scoured again.
Ah... That's what I found.
Looking as excited as a white girl
at an Engelbert Humperdinck concert.
So you think she was a Nazi?
I think she was a Nazi chemist.
Zyklon B. Industrial-grade pesticide.
That was the same shit used to gas her.
Like I said, it felt personal.
I'm gonna talk to INS, the Bureau,
see what they can tell me.
Yeah, I'll do some digging around here.
See what comes up.
I'll give you a call if I find something.
She looked so little, didn't she?
She didn't look like no monster.
She looked old and little and ordinary.
Monsters can be little.
Monsters can be old.
Hell, monsters can be us.
[pilot] [over speaker] Folks, this is your captain speaking.
We're at 35,000 feet...
[boy] When are we gonna get there?
[woman] Stop. Stop, put your foot down.
[boy] I want to see Tyler Tiger at Wally World.
- [shushing] - Peanuts?
No, he's allergic.
I'll have.
There you are.
[stewardess] Peanuts?
[sighs] Is it bad?
His allergy.
Is it... deadly?
It... can be, yes.
Scary.
What a way to go.
Well...
...there'll be a cure soon.
I won't rest till there is.
Oh, you and me both.
You know...
...allergies are a modern invention.
Like depression
or schizophrenia.
Because once upon a time, we let nature reign,
and it weeded out the sick and the weak from our gene pool.
It kept us...
pure.
These days, well...
[chuckles] ...there is a drug for everything.
Yet suddenly the whole population is now sick...
and the sick have created so much violence
and suffering that a person has to hop on a plane
and pay a small fortune to take pictures
with anthropomorphic animals just to keep himself sane.
All because we tell the nice stewardess
a little boy shouldn't have any Miss Petunia's Peanuts.
Or perhaps he should.
Because he is the poison,
and this...
...is the cure.
So... peanut?
[crunching]
[both panting]
My mom made me work out with her this morning.
She made me do the rhythm method with her.
Bro, you think the rhythm method
is something it definitely ain't.
- [panting] - [knocking on door]
Fucking stairs.
[Cheeks] Yo, J-Money.
He's not gonna answer. He's mad at us.
You're gonna have to talk to us, bro.
Yeah, man, we shouldn't have left you. We should...
Look, we're-we're sorry, okay?
We should... We shouldn't have chickened out.
[Carol] He ain't home.
I haven't seen him in two days.
[Bootyhole] Two fucking days?
I was actually starting to get worried.
You-you don't remember us, do you?
- I don't think so. - [Murray chuckles]
[Mindy] Oh, well, you...
you were just a yingele,
f-five, maybe six years old.
Your safta took you to meet us at Art's Deli.
- Yeah, yeah. - Remember that,
- Murray? - Mm-hmm.
- [Mindy] Cute as a kugel you were. - [Murray chuckling]
You looked just like him.
[Joe] Hey, got something.
An SS roll from Buchenwald
names a Nazi engineer, Karl Holstedder.
Buchenwald. Engineer. 10-4, Eleanor.
Buchenwald.
Buchenwald. Yeah.
Yeah, Ruth
has 14 Buchenwald survivor accounts that mention
Karl Holstedder, 14.
Karl Holstedder...
...the Pied Piper of Buchenwald.
He was the emcee of the Buchenwald camp.
A brilliant radio engineer.
Every Shabbos, Holstedder rounded up ten men.
The prisoners didn't fare well.
- [gunshot] - [gasps]
[gunshot]
Well, Mr. Holstedder...
...come on down.
[Jeanine Frist] Tonight on First with Frist,
Biff Simpson on the tragic massacre of his family.
[Southern accent] It'll be the little things I miss most.
Eating Little Caesars pizza...
...watching Six Million Dollar Man, cuddled on the couch.
Just telling 'em "I love you."
I wish I could have done more.
I wish it'd... it'd been me.
But my Lottie always said...
...love means never having to say you're sorry.
[sobbing]
This has been a special presentation
of First with Frist.
And now back to your regular programming,
Me and the Chimp.
We're loading up.
They fit well.
Yeah.
It was impressive what you did with that letter.
How do you like The Hunters?
They scare the shit out of me.
[Meyer] Oh...
[chuckles] Yes.
How'd you recruit 'em, anyway?
No.
Well... [sighs]
I went to a matchmaker.
But that's not all she is.
[man] Guten Abend. Mrs. Hoffman...
- [doorbell buzzes] - [Meyer] Thank you.
Yes, thank you.
- [Hilda chuckling] - [Meyer] Ah...
- [Hilda] Oh, my God. - Shalom, my dear love.
[laughing] I should sooner believe my eyes.
Can't believe this.
- [Meyer] Oh, I can't either. - Mwah.
- Oh, my darling. - Come sit, Meyerleh, sit.
Nice, what a neighborhood.
- Oof. - I know. Very fancy.
It is fancy. I'm so glad I dressed.
[laughing]
Thirty years in our new shtetl of Manhattan,
you don't breakfast with me,
you don't venture to my sukkah.
What did a little old matchmaker do to deserve such kavod?
Well, I wasn't looking to be matched, Hilda.
So, if that's all right with you...
It's 40 years pining only for Ruth.
This is the oldest "will they or won't they"
in the world, since... since Jacob and Rachel.
[laughing] Oh, God.
You have a lot of security for a little old matchmaker,
- no? - [whispering] Well, you know.
Can you think of a creature more dangerous
than a Jewish mother with an unwed daughter?
[both laughing]
But don't sell yourself short, because you are
the Jewish world's fixer, no?
Hmm?
So...
...if not for a bride, or even a shtup,
you know, one might ponder why the gentleman from Park Avenue
comes all this way to see me, hmm?
Cut to the liver, darling.
Well...
Ruth and I, we found something.
Two Nazi doctors...
living here among us.
So, we need you, Hilda.
I help you with this,
it makes noise.
In my line of work, noise is death.
Thirty-one years since liberation.
You know, in that time,
I have made 345 matches,
producing 957 new Jewish souls.
And, and seven more imas-to-be are pregnant as we speak.
It should be enough for Hashem, Meyer.
I suppose so, too, comes the responsibility
to make the world better for these 957 lives.
You say there are Nazis among us?
I suppose, then, you are asking me for...
A team.
I need highly skilled. Covert.
- See? - [Hilda] This is no team, dear.
- No. - [Meyer] No?
[Hilda] This is appointed by God.
This is a, is a congregation.
A tribe.
What you need is a group who knows how to bend the rules.
A collective who will take justice into its own hands.
Ragtag, just like, like The Dirty Dozens.
[Meyer] Nine hundred and fifty-seven.
Hilda,
if God does not hear that,
then He is deaf.
[Hilda] Nine hundred and fifty-seven.
It's still 5,999,043 short.
Yes.
But we have time yet, yeah?
[Meyer] Yes.
Come on.
Let's go find you these rascals.
You went to a matchmaker to put together
a group of Nazi hunters?
That's... the Jewiest shit I've ever heard.
Why'd they say yes?
In time, you'll come to know their stories.
Their secrets.
And perhaps you'll come to tell them yours.
Come on. We leave shortly.
It's time for The Hunt.
- [sighs] - [Mindy] I am not sitting
your beached whale of a cousin, the insufferable
Eileen Shekenstein, anywhere near us, Murray.
[Murray] It's Amy's wedding.
She'll sit where Amy wants her to sit.
You know she's still never apologized to me
for missing Simchas Torah dinner.
Her husband died the night before.
Well, exactly. That gave her a whole day to RSVP.
Get in the car.
[sighs]
Um... Oh.
Okay.
Uh... sorry, man.
Bet you never met a movie star before, huh?
Judah Macca-bro, how's it hanging?
Uh, fine, yeah. [clears throat]
You know, the fear goes away.
What? No, no.
No, I'm-I'm... I'm cool.
- I'm just, uh... - As scared as an uncircumcised
schlong at a mohel convention?
I was, too. Gets easier, trust me.
[inhales, exhales]
You know, I loved Ruth like she was my own bubbe.
She found me at rock bottom.
Okay, she kicked my ass into shape.
Not as good a shape as Kris Kristofferson's ass.
That ass should be in the Louvre.
That's a, that's a thing of miracles,
but she saved me.
- She saved you? - Oh, yeah.
Yeah, she was one special lady, Ruth.
And because I loved her, I love you, brother man.
Don't be nervous, man. This shit'll be fun.
It's just like the movies, huh.
[♪ John Cameron: "The Great Escape"]
[narrator] This summer...
Nazis beware.
This Army of the Night is out for your head.
- Reich? Wrong. - [man screaming]
[men grunting]
Orion Pictures presents...
The Hunters.
With newcomer Jonah Heidelbaum
as The Codebreaker.
- [screaming] - [Roxy] Jonah?
You good? You were mumbling to yourself.
Oh, yeah, I'm good.
I just, uh, had a little... [smacks lips]
tickle in my throat, you know?
Little cough. [coughs]
[Roxy] Time to go...
Codebreaker.
[engine starts]
[tires screeching]
[Betty] [over phone] Immigration and Naturalization Services.
Hey, Betty, it's Millie. My flight was delayed,
but I'll be across town in an hour.
Don't bother, Mil.
I pulled the file you called about.
- Yeah. - Gretel Fischer.
Ain't nothing in it.
What do you mean there ain't nothing in it?
I don't know. It's been cleared out.
- It's empty. - Your files are all empty?
No, just hers and one other.
Looks like her brother, a Hans Fischer.
Hans Fischer?
The family's files are just gone.
[Frannie] Now, Hans and Gretel
hadn't spoken for years. [chuckles]
You know how siblings can drift apart.
[Morris] Mm-hmm.
But when her son called about the accident,
I... I was beside myself.
She was such a sweet woman, Gretel.
- There you go. - Thank you, Ms. Fischer.
- Um, if I may... - Mm-hmm?
...why is the FBI involved?
Well, uh, she worked for NASA. Just standard procedure.
Oh.
Actually, Frannie, I was hoping I could speak with your husband.
Uh, well...
That won't be possible, unfortunately, uh...
Hans died in a car accident six months ago.
I'm sorry.
Yes, he...
he drove home late.
A chicken pox outbreak
in town that kept him at work.
You know, he never let a single child go untreated.
Police said it looked like his engine exploded.
The force ripped his teeth right out of his mouth.
What a tragedy. I'm sorry.
He was very handsome.
I read that Hans was
a German war refugee, like his sister.
What did he do during the war?
Hans was a doctor.
Red Cross.
- [chuckles] - Hmm.
Did he have to help any Jews?
- [Frannie] Yes. - How did he feel about them?
Well, how does anyone feel about them, dear?
They're Jews.
I'm s... Do you have a bathroom I can use?
Um, use the one up the stairs.
Monique is set to deep-clean it tomorrow.
♪ ♪
What are you doing in here?
I'm... I'm s... Thank you.
Thank you for your time.
Let's drop the needle on Karl Holstedder, shall we? Hmm.
I'll ring us on in.
Roxy will draw the curtains.
Joe will admire the view.
Murray and Mindy will set the mood.
Lonny...
...will do whatever the bloody fuck you do.
Um...
What do I do?
The adults will make their grand entrances here, here,
and here at the illustrious 147 Ocean Way.
The sodding
fat cat music producer is in his recording studio.
We'll take our seats, and then Meyer can do a little dance,
make a little love, and get down tonight.
So let's get to tickling the ivories
of this torturous twat, shall we, loves?
[playing Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" on piano]
♪ ♪
[silenced gunshots]
[Murray] Looks like a 247B switch.
No, moron, that is a 247A.
All right.
- [low static buzzing] - Wait.
- [Mindy] I'm waiting. - Go.
♪ ♪
[Lonny] Wow. It's like the entire guest list
of Freddie Mercury's annual Vaseline party.
That's where I got that accidental hand job from
from Peter, Paul and Mary. [chuckles]
Classic P, P and M.
Erik Folsom.
Almost as shitty of a stage name as Lonny Flash.
Hey, you can call me Leonard Flazenstein
any día of the semana, baby.
[Roxy] Come on.
[breathing heavily]
[plays final notes]
[gasps]
[grunting]
Aah!
[whimpers]
[Meyer] Shalom, Karl.
For far too many winks,
you were our nightmare.
Now...
let us be yours.
[panting] Oh, I...
I'll have you arrested. Rounded up and...
And shot? Gassed? Buried alive?
[panting]
I never liked your music.
It, uh... To your kind, it was...
music was always for violence,
vanity, death.
But for us...
...music is remembrance.
It's rebellion, it's life.
In the music our people survive.
Wha-What is he doing?
He's giving him the thing our people never received:
a trial.
Oh, you are my judge, jury...
...executioner, Juden?
- [chuckling] Juden. - [Meyer] No, I'm nobody.
I am but the stenographer here.
They, the millions, are the judge and jury.
The millions who call out from the grave for justice.
We are holding you on a charge of a thousand counts
of murder of Jews at Buchenwald.
And also on a charge of the murder of millions
as accessory to the Nazi regime.
So, how do you plead?
I plead that you go to hell.
We shall present the evidence now. Hmm?
Testimonies from survivors.
Nazi SS rolls declaring
Karl Holstedder as Haupsturmführer of the SS.
Finally,
a photograph from Nazi records identifying this man
as Karl Holstedder.
[Harriet] Can you verify that this is you, sir?
That is me, yes.
But I did not do the things you accuse me of.
We have testimonies.
Yeah.
[Meyer] Firsthand accounts from survivors.
From Hiram Flaustein...
...he's from Brooklyn, New York.
Survivor of Buchenwald. And...
from Ralphie Schneider, a survivor of Buchenwald.
From Jerome Putnitsky.
From...
From Mordecai Klinger.
From Alexander Cohen.
From Lloyd Evan and from Ludwig Platz.
From Samuel Cantel.
[breathing shakily]
It's propaganda.
It's lies.
[zipper opens, closes]
[closes file cabinet]
[Lonny] Rox?
Karl Holstedder,
on the thousand counts of murder,
you have been found guilty.
[speaks German] Go to Hell!
Hell is not so bad...
...as the way to it.
What the fuck?
- Want to sit down? - [Meyer] Sure. Sure, of course.
All right.
What is it?
[Murray] It's a homegrown radio station.
They're broadcasting something.
[Meyer] Well, they're communicating with each other,
that's what they're doing.
- [Mindy] Yeah. - Communicating what?
[Murray] What? Uh, here. Let's see what's going out live.
[girl singing in German]
"Two little ships at night on the sea."
"Ten ducklings in the barn."
"Six mothers moved east."
- Yeah? - [Meyer] Hmm.
"And a little child was born."
Third Reich Sesame Street's creepy as shit.
Remind me never to play it for my future kids.
I'll first remind you never to procreate.
[Roxy] What if it's those
"instructions #4"?
What if they're sending out some heavy-ass hidden message?
Then we bloody well shut these twats up.
Wait, wait, wait. Wait. Hold the horses.
If we stop this, then they'll know, right?
They'll know that we're onto them.
Eh, where is this broadcasting to?
How far?
To how many? Find out. Find out quickly.
In the meantime, I'm gonna make the piano man sing us a song.
[Murray] I have to take off the whole back.
[Mindy] Well, then do it.
Hello, Karl.
Now, we can make this interrogation
painless or painful.
Depends on you. What do you think?
Let me ask you,
who are you communicating with?
What are you broadcasting?
Lullabies for the children.
Ah.
Broadcast symphonies, too.
Operas.
Even ABBA when it tickles me. [laughs]
I give away freebies sometimes to the first caller.
Okay, Joe.
I think we're ready.
The ears are the most sensitive part of the body.
They control balance and bodily function.
[door closes]
[loud humming]
[sighs] Now, Karl,
last chance.
[sighs]
Okay, Joe, let's do it.
- [groans] - ♪ Gonna tell Aunt Mary ♪
♪ About Uncle John ♪
♪ He claims he has the misery ♪
♪ But he has a lot of fun ♪
♪ Oh, baby, yeah, baby ♪
♪ Whoo-ooh-ooh ♪
♪ Baby ♪
♪ Havin' me some fun tonight ♪
♪ Yeah ♪
♪ Well, long tall Sally, she's built for speed...
What are you broadcasting?
[panting] I don't know what you are talking about!
♪ Baby ♪
♪ Whoo-ooh-ooh, baby ♪
Oh, my God! [sobbing]
- Fuck. [gasps] - ♪ I saw Uncle John with bald-head Sally ♪
♪ He saw Aunt Mary comin' and he ducked back ♪
♪ In the alley, oh, baby ♪
[music distorts]
Stop, stop, stop. Stop.
Please.
[glass rattling]
Fucking Christ, come on, man.
You're gonna burst his fucking eardrums, stop.
What the fuck are you doing?
[screaming]
[screaming] Oh, my God!
His fucking ear's bleeding. Stop it, man!
- [Meyer] We know it. - [music stops]
[sobbing]
My God, I just... I just... [panting]
They mail me tapes. I b... [panting]
I broadcast them, that's all I do!
Who? Who... who tells you to play them?
[sobbing]
There's a man, a man...
One man, I don't...
He's the only one I've ever seen.
Richter?
I don't know any Richter!
I swear, I don't, I don't know his name.
We don't use our real names.
[sobbing] Oh, my God. He's a man.
Like me. [panting]
A man who was brought here.
Brought here? Brought here by whom?
[laughing]
By you!
By you.
[Mindy] Meyerleh, we need you now.
Broadcasting to the whole tristate area.
Watch him.
[Karl whimpering]
[muttering]
Water. Water.
Water. Please.
[Karl sighs]
I didn't do what they say.
Shut the fuck up, man.
But I was your age when I first heard him.
I don't want to hear your Hitler fan fiction.
[Karl] Not Hitler.
Wagner.
My father was a cruel man.
He believed music was weak.
If you even dared hum, he beat you senseless.
But when I was 17, I heard it.
Coming from the halls of the Berliner Philharmonie.
I never wanted to hurt anyone.
I was just a boy...
[sniffles] following orders.
Perhaps like you.
Shut the fuck up.
[Karl] If you keep on this path,
you will hear it, too.
Forever.
The ringing in your ears.
That is why... I made them sing.
To drown it out.
The ringing.
S-So I could hear the music again.
[whimpering]
I need water.
- All right, all right. Fuck. - I need the water, please.
- Okay, okay. - Please.
Thank you. Oh...
- Just tilt your head back. - [moans]
[clatter in distance]
[Karl grunts]
Fuck! [groans]
[grunting]
- [Joe] Hey. - [groaning]
Take it easy.
If you want the boy to live...
...you will let me out of this fucking...
- No! - [grunts]
- [clamoring] - [Mindy] What?
[gasping]
What the fuck did you do? He was our only fucking lead.
- You fucking child! - [Lonny] All right, all right, all right, all right.
- [Joe] You did this. I'm gonna fucking kill you! - Come on!
- I didn't mean to. - Piece of shit child. - You're okay.
Kid fucked up, got Holstedder killed.
[Harriet] It blew the broadcast.
[phone ringing]
[slow breathing]
[line clicks]
[sets phone down]
We got to go.
We got to go. Come. Get, uh, whatever you can.
Take it, take it.
[Travis] People think flamingos are pink.
It's a common misconception.
They are white.
Pure white.
It's the red blood of what they eat,
their prey, that gives them their color.
[soft whimpering]
Why were you looking into Gretel Fischer, Detective?
What did you find?
[gasping]
[muffled grunt]
[shushing] It's okay.
- [sobbing] - It's okay.
[muffled] Hey, hey, hey. Listen.
[shushing]
[panting]
I know undue stress can be bad for the baby.
[muffled sobbing]
So how about we play a little game instead, hmm?
[sobbing]
Fowl-inspired, of course.
[panting]
Duck.
[muffled] Hey. Hold on.
- Duck. - [muffled] Hey.
[muffled grunting]
Goose.
[muffled] Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey. Hey! Hey!
- [muffled gunshot] - [screaming]
[sobbing]
[speaking indistinctly]
There was a photograph... [panting]
of Gretel and Hitler.
She was a Nazi.
- Who else knows about this? - No one but me.
Fun. Another round.
No. No. No! No!
[sobbing]
[muffled] Hey!
Spaghetti.
Meatball.
[muffled] No. No, no, no!
- [muffled gunshot] - [screaming]
- [muffled shouting] - [sobbing]
[panting]
She was an FBI agent.
She's... her name's Millie.
[panting] Millie Morris.
[Meyer] Jonah.
[gags]
[spits]
[heaves]
[coughing]
- Here, Jonah, Jonah. - [panting]
- Yeah. Come here. Jonah... - [Jonah mutters]
I got him killed. I got him killed.
No, no. A Nazi, yes.
And he would have killed you.
If it weren't for Joe, he would've killed you.
No. Were you still gonna kill him?
Were you still gonna kill him
if you got everything that you needed?
I would have delivered justice, yes, yes.
Fucking shit.
- We should've brought him in. - What?
- We should've brought him in. - To whom?
- We could've brought him in. - Who do we bring him in to?
Fucking... the police. The fucking police, the Feds.
No, no. Jonah, Jonah, I told you this.
The fucking... the people who take care of this fucking shit.
I told you this before, didn't I?
In this country,
Lady Justice may be blind to all,
but to many of us, she is also deaf.
Do you know how many Nazis the U.S.
executed at Nuremberg?
Twelve.
Twelve perpetrators out of eight million.
And they're on the march again, these forever soldiers.
These monsters.
No wonder they thought they could come here.
So we are left, us, to do God's work.
Ruth's work, Jonah.
Ruth's.
Come. We are missing maarib.
What the fuck is maarib?
It's evening services.
To say mourner's kaddish for Ruth.
- No, I don't believe in that. - Oh, Jonah, it doesn't matter
if you believe or not believe.
I don't care if you believe in Santa Claus.
It doesn't matter. It's about Ruth, not about you.
It is the duty of Ruth's family to pray for her soul.
And if ever a soul deserved it, it would be hers. No?
Come, Jonah. Come.
[flamingo honking]
[honking continues]
[muffled gunshot]
[indistinct chatter]
[Grossman] All those saying the mourner's kaddish,
please remain standing,
as we honor those who have passed.
- [praying in Hebrew] - [sighs]
[Jonah praying in Hebrew]
[high-pitched ringing]
- Amen. - Amen.
[prayer continues]
[high-pitched ringing]
[Karl] You will hear it, too.
Forever.
The ringing in your ears.
[rabbi continues praying]
I can't do this.
Jonah.
Jonah!
[high-pitched ringing]
[grunts]
[♪ Max Richter: "Sarajevo"]
[grunts]
[ringing continues]
[groaning]
[ringing continues]
[groans]
[ringing continues]
[groans]
[yelling]
[breathing heavily]
[ringing continues]
[singers vocalizing]
[clock ticking]
[clock bells chiming]
[lullaby playing in German]
[lullaby continues]
[girl singing in German]
♪ ♪