ACT TWO
Scene 1
Same as end Act One. WEISS asleep in shadows. A single candle illuminates scene. ENTER KAREN and MAYOR in film costumes, laughing and shushing themselves, feeling aftereffects of a party. Mayor takes off her fur wrap and kisses nape of her neck.
KAREN: No, no, you beast!—[Turning to ‘protest,’ MAYOR kisses her.] Ouch!
MAYOR: What’s the matter?
KAREN: Those damned medals of yours—see what you’ve done? [Shows MAYOR scratch on bosom.]
MAYOR: Let me kiss it and make it better. [Kisses KAREN’s bosom.] You’re driving me crazy, Karen!
WEISS: [Waking.] Who’s there? Is that you, Karen?
KAREN: Yes, it’s only us darling; Mayor Hermann and me—we didn’t see you napping there.
WEISS: Was I dreaming? I thought I saw two figures in the candlelight. I thought I saw someone kissing your bosom, Karen!
Room lights go on.
MAYOR: Ah, they must have finished that battle scene down at the bridge—
WEISS: Were you?
MAYOR: Was I what?
WEISS: kissing my wife’s bosom!
MAYOR: Don’t be ridiculous, Weiss. Accidentally one of my medals scratched your wife’s chest and I was merely trying to—
WEISS: Admit it! You two are having an affair!
MAYOR: I don’t think you understand what is going on, Weiss. Our roles in the film require that we pretend to be having a very torrid relationship. It seems the Fieldmarshal is a man of hyperactive sexuality—
WEISS: [More to himself.] Oh, I understand all right—
MAYOR: And quite frankly, I will admit to you Weiss, that sometimes I do get carried away with the part. After all, Karen is a very attractive woman—
WEISS: [Still selfabsorbed, rising, getting coat.] Yes—a very attractive woman—
MAYOR: I’m not admitting anything improper you understand—but the blame does not lie with your wife, Weiss. I want you to know that.
WEISS: [Putting coat on.] I know—I know. I’m beginning to see everything clearly—
KAREN: Where are you going, Dietrich?
WEISS: Out. I am going out.
Sound of exploding bombs.
KAREN: What’s that?
MAYOR: It sounds like another air-raid—but we weren’t notified there would be one!
Explosions come closer.
KAREN: I can feel the ground shaking!
MAYOR: Quick! Under the table! [Takes KAREN with him under table. Lights flicker. Sound of loud blast nearby. The room vibrates. Sound of china shattering, then quiet.] I think that’s it—
MAYOR and KAREN emerge from beneath table.
KAREN: Did something break? [WEISS shows KAREN shards of broken vase.] The Chinese vase! Oh, no! It was a wedding gift from Dietrich’s mother. This is terrible!
WEISS: Look! Out the window! There are houses on fire!
MAYOR: It must be some kind of special effect. I’m sure that’s all it is—
KAREN: My God—the Schwarzes’ house is burning! [EXIT WEISS.] Dietrich!
Lights flicker and fade as KAREN looks at piece of broken china and sobs.
MAYOR: Don’t worry, darling, I’ll get you another Chinese vase—
Blackout. In the darkness a voice is heard over loudspeaker.
LOUDSPEAKER: Citizens of Gruenwald, attention! At 1000 hours today the eastern half of the town will be evacuated to the pianoworks. This evacuation is to be carried out on foot. Refugees are directed to use the southern road. There will be a high danger of strafing. At the sight of enemy fighter aircraft you are to take cover immediately in the drainage ditch at the side of the road.
Scene 2
A small office. SS OFFICER sits at desk piled high with papers. He works under a naked lightbulb. WEISS ENTERS in costume.
S S OFFICER: Yes, padre? What can I do for you? [WEISS lays shard of broken vase on desk.] What’s this?
WEISS: A fragment of the Chinese vase my mother gave to my bride Karen on our wedding day.
S S OFFICER: Well?
WEISS: It’s broken.
S S OFFICER: Please, father, I haven’t got time for riddles.
WEISS: It was broken in the air-raid tonight.
S S OFFICER: I see. Well, you can fill out one of these compensation forms. Reichfilms, Inc. will make good on any private property damaged as a result of the project—so long as the claims are reasonable. [Hands WEISS form, which he does not reach for.]
WEISS: Also: my wife Karen is having an affair with the Fieldmarshal—played by Mayor Hermann.
S S OFFICER: I’m afraid we don’t have any forms for that kind of thing.
WEISS: But it’s your fault.
S S OFFICER: These things happen all the time; whether or not moviemaking is involved. Reichfilms, Inc. did not invent adultery, father.
WEISS: You tempted her. You deliberately tempted her. You put her in a fancy dress, adorned her with diamonds, exposed her bosom—
S S OFFICER: If you read your contract carefully you will find that Reichfilms, Inc. is not liable for the temptations experienced by the starstruck housewives of Gruenwald—
WEISS: My wife has a beautiful bosom—
S S OFFICER: I’m sure she has. In fact I recall hearing some mention made of it during a conversation at the castle. Now, if you will fill out this form—
WEISS: [Takes form, tears it up.] I don’t want a form.
S S OFFICER: If you don’t want a form, what do you want?
WEISS: I want you to stop.
S S OFFICER: Stop? Stop what?
WEISS: Everything. The project. The film. The war. The temptation. Everything must stop. You are destroying Gruenwald and the people in it. The others may be fooled but not me.
S S OFFICER: There has been some damage, father; that is undeniable. But it has all been according to a plan. There are things you are not aware of. You see this? [Rises, shows WEISS architectural plans on wall.] These are the new buildings that will replace those which were demolished in the process of making this epic work of art. The school, the hospital, this block of old shops—
WEISS: [One by one rips drawings from wall.] Ugly! Ugly! Ugly!
S S OFFICER: [Grabs WEISS.] Stop it! Are you mad? This acting of yours has gone too far, Weiss! This is not the time or the place for such histrionics! Your big scene comes much later—in the church, if I remember rightly, at the very height of the lastditch battle for—
WEISS: The church has already been destroyed.
S S OFFICER: I meant to say—in the ruins of the church.
WEISS: That church was 700 years old!
S S OFFICER: Precisely. The foundations were rotten. We had an engineer’s report made—[Searches through papers.] It was a menace to public safety.
WEISS: It was a menace to public safety for 700 years!
S S OFFICER: Here it is. Here is the engineer’s report. You can read it for yourself. And here is the contract between Reichfilms, Inc. and the town council legally authorizing the demolition—
WEISS takes papers and destroys them. SS OFFICER gets revolver from desk drawer.
S S OFFICER: I can’t permit this outrage to continue any longer—
WEISS: Those are the exact words I have been struggling to find!
With a sudden violent move WEISS attacks SS OFFICER. They struggle for gun. Light is shot out. Then, in darkness, another shot and sounds made by mortally wounded man. Weiss’ voice is heard over loudspeaker:
Citizens of Gruenwald attention! This is the voice of Dietrich Weiss, master pianomaker, husband of Karen and father of Eva. I am asking you, citizens of Gruenwald, to remember! To remember how things used to be in this wonderful little town of ours. To remember how quiet it was. So quiet you could always hear the birds singing in the trees of Beethovenstrasse. And do you remember the church bells, citizens of Gruenwald? Do you recall that once we had church bells and now we have these loudspeakers? Citizens of Gruenwald, I am not reading from a film script when I tell you we cannot permit this nightmare to continue. I am not playing the part of a preacher when I tell you to assert your good German common sense and remove these costumes—these clown suits—they have put you into, and refuse to act out this immoral "scenario!" Without your cooperation they have no power. Reichfilms, Inc. is nothing and you are everything. So, put on your overalls again and march to the pianoworks where, once again, we can do that which God intended us to do—manufacture beautiful musical instruments. It is up to you, citizens of Gruenwald—it is all up to you!
Scene 3
A street strewn with battle rubble. Barbed wire barriers. A SOLDIER on guard wearing Wehrmacht uniform. WEISS ENTERS in overalls.
SOLDIER: Nobody allowed past this point.
WEISS: Aren’t you young Max Mueller from the foundry?
SOLDIER: Yes.
WEISS: Don’t you recognize me? Dietrich Weiss, Master Pianomaker?
SOLDIER: Yes. I recognize you. But I have strict orders—
WEISS: I’m looking for my son-in-law, Siegfried Schwarz. Have you seen him?
SOLDIER: No.
WEISS: That is the Eastern Front out there where all that smoke is rising, isn’t it?
SOLDIER: Yes, but you can’t go out there while they are shooting.
WEISS: Can’t you see I’m no longer in the film, Mueller? I’m wearing my pianomakers’ overalls. I’m not a part of the "project" now; so you have no right to tell me where I can go and where I can’t go.
SOLDIER: They told me—I’ve got my orders, Herr Weiss.
WEISS: Orders from who? A film company? But this is real life, Mueller. Real life, do you understand? Life is not a film. I am not an actor. I am a real man!
SOLDIER: There are mines out there, Herr Weiss; it’s a minefield.
WEISS: A minefield of special effects Mueller; isn’t that what you mean? They’re not real mines, are they?
SOLDIER: I don’t know what you mean by real mines, Herr Weiss, and what you mean by special effects; but I do know that if you step on one of them they can blow your legs clean off.
WEISS: How do you know that, Mueller? Have you seen that happen to someone? Have you!!!
SOLDIER: I—I—
LOUDSPEAKER: Attention on the Eastern Front! Enemy artillery barrage expected within 5 minutes along the entire front from sector 3 to sector 8. When the barrage is lifted a coordinated air attack and tank assault should be anticipated. Demolition crews are to stand by for the destruction of all bridges on the eastern approaches to Gruenwald.
SIEGFRIED [Off.]: Dietrich! Dietrich!
ENTER SIEGFRIED hobbling on a makeshift crutch. He has bloody leg wound and uniform shows battle effects.
WEISS: Siegfried! What’s happened to you!
SIEGFRIED: Nothing serious. But we’ve got to get out of here right now. I’ve got a car waiting over there; hurry!
WEISS: But they’re going to blow up the bridges; I’ve got to try to stop them!
SIEGFRIED: There’s nothing you can do, Dietrich! Now, quickly; before the artillery starts coming in. I’ve got orders to report to the command bunker at Westfield. Eva will be there. And Karen. Come on!
EXIT WEISS and SIEGFRIED as first rounds of artillery come in. As lights fade, SOLDIER is hit and falls. Blackout.
Scene 4
The command bunker lounge. Large Nazi flags, eagles, etc. A long banquet table set with extravagant buffet. WEISS is alone in what seems like a vast concrete cavern. Nazi banners and flags dwarf him.
WEISS: What is it about these flags that makes my flesh crawl? That symbol—what did Siegfried call it—a swastika? It looks like a man with his arms and legs broken—
SCHWARZES ENTER wearing striped pajamas of concentration camp inmates. Their heads are shaved. They are gaunt, emaciated, unrecognizable.
SCHWARZ: Dietrich! [WEISS does not recognize him.] It’s me—Josef—and Maria.
WEISS: My God; what have they done to you!
SCHWARZ: You must excuse us if we talk with our mouths full—[MARIA has begun to wolf food from buffet.] It hasn’t been easy, Dietrich—this acting business can be very hazardous to one’s health. Maria, you’ll make yourself sick wolfing all that food—
MARIA: [To WEISS.] You’ll never know how hungry I was—
WEISS: They’re actually starving you?
SCHWARZ: [With mouth full of food.] Who can say what they’re doing to us, Dietrich.
MARIA: I’m not going back to that damned concentration camp, Josef. I don’t care what the legal consequences are.
SCHWARZ: You’ll feel differently with your belly full.
MARIA: No. No I won’t. I don’t care about the film anymore, Josef.
SCHWARZ: [To WEISS.] All I can say is, thank God we know Eva. She got us a pass so we could have this little reunion.
WEISS: I really can’t believe the change that has come over you.
SCHWARZ: It looks a lot worse than it really is, Dietrich. Some of what you are seeing is theatrical makeup.
WEISS: But they shaved your heads—
MARIA: They promised us good parts, Dietrich! Remember—how special the caftanpeople were supposed to be? Only the elite! The cream of society! The Chosen Few! Well, there are thousands of them inside that concentration camp; thousands of them all looking the same —all of them with their heads shaved and wearing filthy rags like these. You can’t tell the difference between the men and the women. How will anyone who watches this film ever know it is us they are seeing?
WEISS: Maybe this is not the time to tell you, but your house burned down.
SCHWARZ: [Eating.] Yes, we were notified by Reichfilms, Inc. They are going to put us into one of the modern flats that will be built with the profits from the movie. They say we’ll even have central heating.
MARIA: Our old place really was drafty—
WEISS: That was the house you were born in, Josef! And Maria, you gave birth to Siegfried in that house! Listen, you have both got to help me put an end to this insanity before it’s too late!
SCHWARZ: [Picking teeth.] Maybe it’s too late already.
WEISS: What do you mean?
SCHWARZ: We’re not the fools you think we are, Dietrich. Those of us in the concentration camp are not happy with the way things have turned out. Maybe we were swindled into these parts; but what can we do now? If we all walked out—
MARIA: If only we could just walk out! The camp is surrounded with electrified barbed wire and guards with machine guns!
SCHWARZ: [Pouring himself champagne.] That is really neither here nor there. The point is that if we rebelled and the film came to a crashing halt, what then? You say the town is in ruins; but who will rebuild it if Reichfilms, Inc. goes belly up? Who will compensate us for all the misery and suffering we have already endured? Every sacrifice we’ve made will be utterly meaningless if the film is not finished. No, Dietrich, there is nothing we can do now. We have all passed the point of no return.
WEISS: I can’t put a stop to this nightmare all by myself, Josef. I’ve got to have some help. Just a little help —a few courageous people to start the tide turning the other way.
SCHWARZ: We’ve all got too much invested.
WEISS: But you’re going to lose everything, Josef—maybe even your lives!
MARIA: They wouldn’t go that far—not if we continue to cooperate with them.
SCHWARZ: There are thousands of people in that camp, Dietrich. How could they kill so many people and expect to get away with it? Besides, what would be the point in doing it? Just because of these? [Indicates yellow Star of David.]
WEISS: But that’s just it—this whole project is about things that don’t make any sense at all. Nothing has made any sense from the very beginning!
ENTER EVA with SIEGFRIED. She is bright, enthusiastic and sophisticated. Siegfried has been cleaned up, uses cane, wears Iron Cross around his neck.
EVA: Hello, everybody! You’ll never guess what Siegfried and I have just been doing!
SIEGFRIED: Eva!
EVA: We’ve been making mad, passionate love in the old Duke’s fourposter upstairs!
WEISS: How can you speak of such a subject in the presence of the Schwarzes? Can’t you see what has happened to them?
EVA: They’re concentration camp inmates. Anyone can see that.
WEISS: Then how can you talk of making love!
EVA: Because I don’t see what one thing has to do with the other. We all have our roles to play. And, speaking of roles Papa, what has happened to your priest’s costume?
WEISS: I am no longer one of the actors, Eva. I am just a humble pianomaker again.
EVA: But you can’t do that! You have some very important scenes coming up. How will it look if you’re not wearing your costume?
WEISS: I don’t give a damn how it looks!
EVA: For all we know we might be on camera right now. The Director is not going to like this at all. You shouldn’t have done it, Papa. There are things you just don’t understand—
WEISS: Then explain; explain these things I don’t understand. Explain to me this feeling I have that I’m in the midst of a gruesome nightmare. Am I the only one who feels this way? Is it my nightmare or do you share it with me? Am I going crazy or has all of Gruenwald gone crazy?
EVA: I can’t explain everything to you, Papa. And, even if I could, it wouldn’t be right for me to do it. Not while the film is still unfinished. Perhaps the Director will explain it to you. He will be here soon. You can ask him yourself. I can tell you this though; we are making what is called "a film-within-a-film." The real film is not about the war at all. It’s about us; about how a townful of decent German pianomakers finds itself involved with the making of a film about a war. That’s why we can never be sure where the cameras are and at whom they are pointing. For all we know this scene we are playing now could be more important than the battle raging on the Eastern Front—
ENTER KAREN and MAYOR with gift packages.
KAREN: Greetings from Paris, everyone! Dietrich! What a pleasant surprise finding you here! [Kisses him on cheek.] You wouldn’t believe what a shopping spree we had on our whirlwind tour of what was once the capital of France! But we didn’t forget any of you—there are souvenirs for everyone!
MAYOR: [Unwraps famous painting (Naked Maja or Modigliani nude) hangs it on wall.] We picked this out for the Director—do you think he’ll like it? Not too risque, is it?
EVA: Goya (Modigliani) is one of his favorite painters.
KAREN: Here’s that perfume you wanted, Eva—and for you, Siegfried; a genuine gold cigarette case. A silk shawl for Maria and for Josef—what have we got for dear old Josef? Ah, a handpainted tie! And for my own darling Dietrich, voila! [Shows him miniature Eiffel tower.] Isn’t that the cutest thing? You always said someday we would see the Eiffel Tower together. Well, here we are and here it is!
ALL laugh except WEISS, who takes souvenir and grinds it under his heel.
KAREN: Dietrich, what have you done? [Retrieves twisted statuette.]
MAYOR: That was stupid, Weiss; totally uncalled for! [Comforts KAREN.]
EVA: What has gotten into you, daddy?
WEISS: So—I’m getting through to you now, am I?
MAYOR: I’m tempted to have you locked up, Weiss—
WEISS: Can’t you see how amusing you are? All of this fuss over a statuette! Look how my dear wife is shedding tears— real tears are running down her cheeks! This is not play acting! She’s mourning the fate of her fake Eiffel Tower when out there our beloved Gruenwald has become a landscape of genuine ruination—our beautiful Gruenwald laid waste by a maniac who is experimenting with amateur psychology! Do you weep for the church and the school and the hospital and the shops and the houses that have been destroyed, Karen? Do you weep for the pianoworks which, for your information, has been reduced to a pile of bricks? But Karen, if you cannot shed any of your tears for mere buildings, can you at least shed some for the folk of Gruenwald who are being killed and maimed? There! You see how quickly her tears dry up when she is confronted with actual atrocities! But I’m not blaming my dear, sweet, simpleminded wife for all that has happened. All of you are responsible. And I am responsible too. We are all to blame for what is happening. It is not Reichfilms, Inc. It is us, the good folk of Gruenwald, the pianomakers—
In a shadowy area of the stage, two hands are seen and heard to applaud Weiss’ speech. They belong to THE DIRECTOR who ENTERS now, wearing fedora, riding britches, a jacket thrown over his shoulders; looking like a movie director of the early 1930’s.
THE DIRECTOR: Bravo, Herr Weiss! A magnificent performance! Perhaps we will have the rushes later tonight and you will be able to see for yourself how brilliantly that scene plays!
We see now the DIRECTOR is a young Adolf Hitler. He is Hitler the artist, not the raving political lunatic or the cartoon he became. He is a Hitler who might have been a film director of some talent. His hair is mussed and not as short as it was in his mature years. His mustache is fuller. His style is more relaxed and effeminate, but still manifesting charismatic intensity.
THE DIRECTOR: Glad you didn’t wait for me.
EVA: I’m not sure, My Director, if you are acquainted with the Schwarzes. Josef and Maria?
THE DIRECTOR: [Bows, kisses MARIA’s hand, shakes SCHWARZ’s.] Believe me, I know how difficult these concentration camp parts are. I can only express to you my deepest appreciation for the sacrifices you are making so this film can be made. In every project, in every living work of art, there are martyrs, unknown soldiers; but their suffering does not go wholly unobserved, I can promise you. [Crosses to chair, sits wearily.] But enough of art and martyrdom! Now is the time to relax; to enjoy a simple conversation about simple things. [To EVA.] Are we having tea and cakes?
EVA: Oh, yes, My Director! You didn’t think I would disappoint you, did you?
She snaps her fingers and VALET ENTERS with tray of tea and cream cakes.
THE DIRECTOR: [Helping himself from tea tray.] I must tell you, Herr Weiss, this daughter of yours is a real treasure—a rare jewel of German womanhood. And you, Siegfried! Do you know how lucky you are to have such a wife?
SIEGFRIED: Yes, My Director!
THE DIRECTOR: To think that such an undeserving oaf should be married to a girl of her rare talents and beauty! It’s a crime, a real crime! [To EVA.] Don’t forget what I told you—if ever he stops treating you as the saint you are—straight to Berlin you come. Please, everyone, sit, sit—make yourselves comfortable! Come, Herr Weiss, sit beside me and relax. I know how it is after you have played a major scene. It is not easy to come down from such an exalted level of inspiration. But believe me, it is necessary at times to put your feet back on the ground.
WEISS: I’m not finished yet. I still have more I want to say—
EVA: Papa, the Director has told you—
THE DIRECTOR: No, Eva; let your father speak. The time has come, has it not, Herr Weiss?
WEISS: Yes. The time has come.
THE DIRECTOR: It may surprise you all to know that the central character in this extravaganza has been Herr Weiss all along. I don’t think he realized himself how important his part was for quite some time, did you Herr Weiss?
WEISS: No.
THE DIRECTOR: But now you know. Now you feel it. Now you are beginning to perceive the larger design of my masterpiece?
WEISS: Yes!
THE DIRECTOR: So; we are ready then to play the last scene.
WEISS: I don’t know if I am ready, but the time has come anyway.
THE DIRECTOR: Don’t forget, Weiss, you have me at a disadvantage too. I wasn’t expecting this. I am not at the peak of my creative powers. As you can see, I am quite exhausted—but we must all yield to these improvisational compulsions, mustn’t we; especially when they are of the divine variety! Well? What is it you want so desperately to say?
WEISS: I think you know what I want to say.
THE DIRECTOR: Perhaps I do; but this is theater, Weiss—everything we think must be manifested. The audience cannot read our minds. Besides, occasionally you have surprised me in the past with your improvisations. So, proceed. I believe you want to make certain accusations—
WEISS: Yes. I accuse you of intentionally destroying everything we held dear—our town, our pianoworks, our heritage, our lives. I accuse you of being—
THE DIRECTOR: Yes?
WEISS: I accuse you of being the devil incarnate; the antiChrist! [Audible gasp from ALL OTHERS.]
THE DIRECTOR: If I am the antiChrist, Weiss, I can only tell you I have no awareness of being so. I was born of a woman, just like you, and I am made of all-too-mortal flesh and blood. I’m sure the devil would not feel the exhaustion I now feel in my bones.
EVA: Really, papa, this is going too—
WEISS: [Gaining moral momentum.] The devil is cunning. He knows how to lie. He knows how to deceive men, and how to lead them to their doom. The devil knows how best to come among us in a human form to work his evil!
THE DIRECTOR: If that is true, why is it, Weiss, that you have not been deceived by me? Are you saying you are not mortal? Perhaps you are a superman, or an angel—or maybe even more exalted than an angel?
WEISS: No. I am nothing but what I have always been. An ordinary German. A man. A pianomaker—
THE DIRECTOR: A pianomaker who dares to match wits with the world’s greatest film director?
WEISS: Some strange force has entered my being lately, it’s true. I seem to see things more clearly. If only I could speak the right words so the people could see what I see! [To others.] Why are you all so blind to the truth?
THE DIRECTOR: Maybe there are no words like that, Weiss. Or maybe there have been so many words spoken since the beginning of time that the ones you are looking for are lost in the din of history. That is why I chose this visual medium to get my message across to the masses. Via the motion picture camera I can express my ideas in a form the average man can understand. It is an elementary principle of cinemaphotography that people will believe only what their own eyes tell them. That is why your righteous sermonizing and that of most poets and philosophers is so ineffective, Weiss—its piety is too fully frontalized. It lacks the finesse that only cinematic technology can bring to this fascinating subject we are discussing. Concepts like the one you are trying to articulate must be slowly unveiled with all the visual, intellectual and psychological suspense of a strip tease.
WEISS: But I am only asking these people to believe what they see with their own eyes! Could the truth be any plainer than having your head shaved or your house burned down or finding the corpses of your neighbors in the street?
THE DIRECTOR: Apparently it can, Weiss. You are talking about reality—which is only the rawest material of human experience. As a maker of pianos I should have thought you would understand the difference between noise and music. Just as noise is shaped into music by the instruments you make, so must the raw material of life be shaped by the filmic artist before it can be perceived by the audience for what it really is—beauty, irony, happiness, horror and truth! Do you really think that Gruenwald is the first quaint town to be flattened by the steamroller of war? There have been wars and atrocities since the very beginning of man’s consciousness. Aren’t those history books the children of Gruenwald study filled to overflowing with evidence that should persuade even the most idiotic of them about the cruelties we human beings are capable of inflicting on each other? What good has it done, reading all those history books for all of those generations? Even with the memory of the last war fresh in our minds, with its scars still visible on our flesh; even with all of that evidence seared into our good German brains—what happens? A townful of pianomakers throws itself eagerly into a maelstrom of death and damnation!
WEISS: Then you admit it! You admit that you think of us as fools! [To others.] Did you hear that? Did you hear what he thinks of you all? Did you hear how he came to Gruenwald with the idea of corrupting us?
THE DIRECTOR: Let’s be accurate, Weiss. I came here to offer you the opportunity of corrupting yourselves. My script was anything but finished. Its outcome was always in question. Although, as an artist, I certainly had the rough draft of a tragedy in mind. Nevertheless, the outcome was in your hands. The cameras would only record your reactions to each of the temptations and crises I was orchestrating behind the scene. Tragedy or comedy, it didn’t matter to me. Either way I would make a point in my film for others to appreciate. What kind of people are these Gruenwalders? These people who make such noble instruments—and whose streets are named for great musicians? Are they a breed so thoroughly virtuous they can resist the temptations that have doomed the rest of mankind? Or, are they made from the same dung and straw as the rest of us? Either way there was a story to be told and a lesson to be learned. As it turned out, you were made from dung and straw. 200 years of making pianos proved not to be an insurance policy against a selfinflicted apocalypse. Naming a street after Bach or Beethoven did not prevent the blood of women and children from flowing in its gutters, did it! In the final analysis, Gruenwald’s destruction is no more special or surprising than the destruction of Rome or Dresden or Hiroshima. What is significant about Gruenwald’s act of collective moral suicide is that it was captured on film—and thereby transformed by me into a work of art. Thus might the selfdestruction of all Germany—or of all Europe—or of the entire world be prevented. That is why I came among you. That is why this film must be finished. Someday, Weiss, those who see The Pianomakers of Gruenwald may be offered the same temptations I offered you. And maybe, just maybe, they will refuse to do what you did. Yes, Weiss, maybe—just maybe, they will stop and think, and remember that film they once saw about some German pianomakers.
WEISS: The devil’s argument! The devil is saying it is too late to stop what is happening because it would spoil his film! The antiChrist is telling us that movies are more important than human beings! Well I say to hell with his film, and to hell with him!
WEISS seizes knife from the buffet and holds it above DIRECTOR’s heart. Cries of shock and alarm from OTHERS. ENTER ARMED GUARDS.
THE DIRECTOR: No! Leave him be! Let the scene play itself out! And keep those cameras rolling! I don’t think there is much danger our good Pastor Weiss will do anything violent.
WEISS: Why not? Why shouldn’t I? Killing you wouldn’t be like killing a real human being!
THE DIRECTOR: Because artistically my assassination would be quite unsatisfactory, Weiss. You would be resorting to the crassest kind of melodrama by plunging that knife into my heart. That is not the way history is made. That is not the message you want to send out to your audience—that tyrants can be eradicated by heroic assassins. No, Weiss, the battle here is for the minds of our audience. You can’t win that battle for them with a fruit knife! They must fit the pieces of your antitotalitarian ideology together by themselves. There is another cinematic principle involved here, Weiss: one must never, never be too explicit or one loses the personal involvement that comes when the audience realizes for itself the true meaning of the images they see on the screen. We must bring them only to the brink, Weiss; never push them over it. That is what is wrong with the way we are playing this scene. It is too overtly didactic. Like school children, the audience will become bored with it unless something truly spectacular happens at this point to excite their imagination. It is possible that all of your good intentions and hard work will end up on the cutting room floor unless you can improvise something that will do just that right now!
WEISS: [About to plunge knife into DIRECTOR’s chest.] There is only one conceivable outcome for this "scene!"
THE DIRECTOR: Think, Weiss! Think! Is this really the only way out for you? You will never have another chance like this. Millions will be watching. Do you want to squander your one opportunity for immortality on a cheap theatrical gesture? Think, damn you, think!
WEISS pauses, shakes his head, struggles to understand, as an actor trying to read the mind of his director.
WEISS: I—what do you—I can’t—
THE DIRECTOR: Yes you can, Weiss. I see it in your eyes. You know what has to be done. Now, do it!
WEISS: You want me to—
THE DIRECTOR: It’s not what I want Weiss; it must be what you want. What you feel; what you know intuitively you must do.
WEISS: I must—yes, I see it now! Since the beginning, I have been set apart from the others. And now I know the reason why. I am the one who must take the audience to "the brink"; not by answering the question they are asking themselves right now, but by asking them another question—Why did Weiss, the noblest pianomaker of them all, kill himself?
WEISS plunges the knife into his own heart. Hysterical reactions from OTHERS except DIRECTOR. SIEGFRIED and SCHWARZ attend WEISS.
SIEGFRIED: He’s dead.
SCHWARZ: Well—what now? What do we do now that we know for certain we are not play acting—now that this noblest pianomaker of us all does indeed lie dead at our feet? He has asked us his question, hasn’t he? And what is the answer. Do we all kill ourselves? Do we go on doing what we have been doing? Yes or no? Is there any other answer? Is there any way to escape what he has asked us?
Gradually the ensemble retake their former positions to ponder what has occurred. DIRECTOR remains where he has been sitting throughout, sipping tea and eating cake. The lights slowly fade to black. In darkness a voice is heard over loudspeaker.
LOUDSPEAKER: Citizens of the world attention! A question has been asked of each and every one of you who inhabit this planet by a pianomaker named Dietrich Weiss. You cannot escape his question. You must answer it now. Each of you must answer the question in his own way. The answer you make may not alter the events or the course of human history, but the answer you make will mark you for all of your earthly existence—and for all of your time thereafter. You cannot avoid answering the question. Even as I speak the answer is taking shape in your mind. Even now the answer is beginning to appear, like writing, in the expression on your face. You cannot hide the answer. It is written on your brow just as you see the answer written on the brow of your neighbor, so he will see what is written on your brow. Citizens of the world! This play is finished! Commencing immediately each of you will return to reality!
End of Play