A NETFLIX ORIGINAL SERIES
GIVE IT YOUR BEST
-Move aside. -Get lost, you rascal.
BASED ON TRUE EVENTS
So, wish me luck.
I’ll be right back.
Father!
No!
Father!
Where were you?
Nowhere.
You know what’s at stake.
Not just for me, but for you too.
I couldn’t find you. And I got lost.
Stop it!
With whom?
Good morning.
Luggi?
Hey.
Look at me.
What is it?
Tell me!
What is it?
Tell me! What is it?
Tell me, what is it?
You messed it up, Glogauer. And I hate being disappointed.
There was no other way.
Hoflinger was too attached to his life for a suicide.
I expected a clean solution, not such debauchery.
Hoflinger was a decent man. He didn’t deserve that.
I didn’t want him out of the way.
What are you mumbling?
With all due respect, Mr. Prank,
but they’ll blame it on the cannibals.
You think the police are that stupid?
Well…
Come on, get lost.
This goddamn fifth lot.
You know, Mr. Prank…
we’re alike, you and I.
More than you think.
I stand, perhaps, more on the dark side
and you on the light side of the moon,
but it’s still the moon.
Goodbye.
Have a nice day.
Mr. Hoflinger.
Do you know if your father had anything to do with these people?
There’s a human zoo at the Wiesn this year.
With Samoans from the South Sea.
Cannibals?
Right now they’re assuming that the Samoans…
took your father’s remains and, well…
Who did it?
We arrested the chief right away.
Rest assured, we’ll check every lead.
But…
it’s a peculiar case.
-What’s there to check? -Irregularities.
Irregularities?
I’m very sorry.
Did your father have anything with him
when you last saw him?
His golden spigot.
He always carried it in his pocket.
-Go on. Down to the left. -What is it?
Go on!
What are we doing?
You have no clue, right?
The thing you couldn’t help but doing
can lead to pregnancy.
I want you to take this seriously.
One word and I’ll cut you open.
What is that?
Vinegar essence.
I must ask you to trust me.
We women are all the same in one way.
Are you nuts?
-I’ll never do that. -Yes, you will.
What will your father say
when his decent, dainty daughter swells up to the size of a pregnant cow?
Today’s not a good day.
It’s the darkest hour we’ve ever had, to be exact.
For me…
for the boys, for all of you.
My husband was one of you.
He was proud to work with you.
You were his family.
And I know what he meant to you.
His sudden death…
-means… -My father didn’t just die.
He was killed.
Roman.
By a horde of godless savages
that were displaced.
The police know, but they won’t do anything.
This is not the place, Roman.
You said it yourself.
This was his family…
his blood, his beer.
Today it’s my dad, tomorrow your children.
Let’s send these cannibals to hell! Who’s with me?
Please, please, go home. Pray!
I’m not in the mood for praying.
Let’s go then!
We’ll string those foreigners up on the next tree.
-Yes! -Let’s go!
Let’s go!
Get ready! Let’s go!
Roman!
What are you doing?
Somebody has to do it.
They’re attacking our families. We’ll show them!
-I’ll clobber them! -We’ll show them!
Let’s go, come on!
That was inevitable.
Gather behind me, men.
-Stay there, Hoflinger! -Well.
The police protect the murderers. Great.
Yes, and I’ll tell you why. I don’t allow mob justice.
Let’s go.
What did I say? Stay there!
Or the next bullet will hit your skull.
You’re really testing me, huh?
Then shoot.
-Beat him up. -Stay there.
We’re no murderers.
Hoflinger…
I understand you.
But you see, the chief will face the scaffold anyway
because he took sole responsibility for the act.
That should appease everybody, right?
I want to see that pig suffer.
Like my father did.
Those people… they’re from the other side of the earth.
They are poor converts
that sold their souls for a few Reichsmark. And why?
Because a famine’s ravaging their island.
An island in the German protectorate in the South Sea.
So now it’s our fault?
I didn’t say that.
I’ve been on the job for some time.
I’m an old policeman and I’ve seen a lot.
You see, the wound on your father’s head…
It raises the question: is there a beast out and about
for which the poor chief has to play the scapegoat?
And I ask myself…
if you’re just an old man who’s read too many trashy novels.
And I saw a beast rise from the sea.
It had ten horns and seven heads.
And on its horns it had ten crowns.
And the beast I saw resembled a panther
and its feet were those of a bear and its mouth that of a lion.
So, dear Urban, you’ve got something for me?
Hopefully you can use it. The bawd has a son in the regiment.
Interesting.
You, more skulls! It’s supposed to be spooky!
Let Munich shine!
You’ll take over the inn, Ludwig. I need you in the brewery.
I’ll make sure everything continues the way father wanted.
Wait.
You want to take over the operation?
The distribution?
But how? You’re a woman, mother.
I’m the heir.
Your father never owned the brewery.
But I’m the firstborn.
I checked the books. You know that we’re in debt.
We have no time for extravagances like exporting, and so on.
Deibel is a traditional brewery and it will stay that way.
You will keep me informed about the current state of things.
We’ll manage, with God’s help.
Provided we stick together.
You’re making a huge mistake.
-Father promised me that-- -Don’t you dare!
Please, stop.
He’s not even buried and you’re fighting over the business?
Do we have an understanding?
That’s it.
Hey.
I’ll restructure the inn.
Really?
You can still realize your dreams.
You’ll take over all of this someday.
There’s beer in your veins, as father always said.
Nonsense.
I’ll restructure it.
This is just too normal. Too boring. Too "Giesing."
Yes…
then make it not normal.
You’re the boss.
You’ve got more liberties than me.
"Too Giesing."
You’re nuts.
Idiot.
Go apologize to mother, idiot!
The blood of Christ has been spilled. Ignatz Hoflinger was without sin.
An honorable man
who saw not only the brewing of quality beer as his duty,
but also the communion.
We say farewell to a man who has passed on too soon.
May it console those he left behind
that Ignatz Hoflinger will live on.
In his sons as well as in his quality beer.
My condolences, Mrs. Hoflinger.
Your husband will not be forgotten.
A tragic death.
Thank you, Councilor.
Councilor,
I need your guarantee that we can keep our lot at the Wiesn.
We have to follow the rules, and the rules state
that the lot must be auctioned off again.
If we lose the lot, we’re done.
And nobody wants that.
I will see what I can do.
And?
Damn bastard.
He has no respect for the dead.
Come.
Good day.
Mrs. Hoflinger?
My name is Curt Prank.
This is my daughter, Clara.
My condolences.
Thank you.
Are you coming?
Do you know them?
No.
I heard of the auction.
You know that we need the lot.
I need everybody’s word
that you won’t bid on the lot.
Are you crazy, Maria? Nobody would do that to Ignatz.
Your word at my father’s funeral.
We’re counting on you.
Even on such a cold day…
one can feel the sunbeams…
Ms. Clara.
Good day.
Prank.
Stifter.
I’m hungry, father.
-Shall I bring you something? -No, thanks.
The young Hoflinger has put up a hefty feast.
Can a delicate person like you stomach that?
I’m not wearing a bodice.
Therefore, yes.
Plates are over there.
Thank you.
Maria.
My condolences.
Thank you.
-I’m so sorry. -It’s okay. I know.
I know.
My condolences.
Why didn’t you say you’re not a maid?
Would that have changed anything?
I’m sorry.
I need you in the pub, Roman. Are you coming?
We brewers control most innkeepers in Munich.
Hoflinger was an exception.
He was a brewer and an innkeeper.
He was a tough cookie, huh?
The innkeepers always controlled us with the Wiesn,
but we’re slowly buying their inns and with that their lots.
Anyway, my dear colleagues and I are glad…
that he’s dead.
And the widow?
We’re waiting. Everybody for himself.
For what?
For her to show weakness.
Aren’t you?
I’m just here to offer my condolences.
Of course, of course.
What?
Nothing.
-Nothing? What? -Yeah, nothing.
Asshole.
Who is she anyway?
-Who? -Who do you think?
-The doll face. -I don’t know.
You don’t know anything.
And what is she doing?
I don’t know, asshole.
We’re building a future for Munich for everybody.
I don’t have to tell you that. You’re a businessman.
The future belongs to those who are brave enough to shape it.
We’re leaving.
Stifter.
Prank.
Ms. Clara.
What’s your favorite flower?
Black roses.
Those are hard to get.
Not just the roses.
To each their own.
We’re auctioning off a lot at Oktoberfest.
Landlord: the city of Munich, represented by Councilor Urban.
Previous tenant: Hoflinger, Ignatz.
Mrs. Maria Hoflinger: 1,000 Marks.
And there is another bid.
What?
Who the hell was that? You promised.
Quiet, please.
Mrs. Gertrude Jakobmeyer.
I bid 2,000 Marks.
What?
What are you doing, Gerdi?
My father gave you a hand.
Stop this nonsense!
Quiet, please.
2,000 Marks…
once…
twice and…
2,500.
The bid is 2,500 Marks. 2,500 once.
2,500 twice…
3,000 Marks.
The bid is 3,000 Marks.
3,000 Marks once.
3,000 Marks twice…
The auction is concluded.
Now you see what God’s help is worth.
We’ll drown in beer.
I have to pay you all in beer until further notice.
We lost the lot.
That can’t be!
Vitus!
Yes, boss?
The monthly order must be delivered to the king immediately.
I’m on it.
-And ten kegs, as a gift. -Okay.
What for, mother?
My great grandfather built all this, my boy.
Over years.
They always said, "Deibel, that idiot, the maltster,
he can’t even read or write."
Everybody would’ve understood if he had given up.
But he fought.
Just like your father.
Until we had the royal license.
And we won’t let anybody take that away from us.
Do you understand?
Never.
Nothing is in our way.
We will write Oktoberfest history.
I’d like something from you in exchange.
May I?
The address of my boy.
I guarantee the safety of the mother as well as the boy.
What are you thinking?
I want to give him a proper education.
-He has to get out of Munich. -Very well, but at the proper time.
Until then, consider your secret well kept.
Congratulations.
Now you’ve got everything you wanted.
But it was…
well…
luck, I guess?
That those Wiesn cannibals
snacked on Hoflinger.
A tragic incident.
We can also call it a twist of fate.
But it’s nothing to joke about, Mr. Urban.
So. Where to now?
I have to go home to my family.
Come on, the night’s still young.
How about it, Anita? Want to go to the Laterne?
Well, well…
Hoflinger.
Isn’t that the brewer’s boy?
Didn’t you want to go home?
See you, little guy.
Have fun, Fierment.
Let’s go.
I didn’t see you in the picture gallery.
What’s up?
I’m very thirsty.
My father died.
So did mine.
Let’s hope the old men took their old times with them.
My condolences.
I have a question.
Because you… Tell me if this is silly, okay?
You know so many artists and I’d like to…
ask you…
if you’d like to drop by the inn some time?
In Giesing?
"Minz and Maunz, the pussy-cats…
they held up their paws.
’Me-ow, me-o!
Me-ow, me-o!’
She’ll burn to death.
Their tears ran down…
like a creek at the Wiesn."
He’s had too much to drink.
Is that why Ignatz had to die? Do you want to destroy us?
-It’s not my fault, Maria. -Talk!
I have nothing to say.
Talk!
Johannes is in the regiment,
and they threatened to send him to the front in China.
There’s a bloody uprising there.
-What should I have done? -Was it Urban?
I don’t know.
Shame on you!
You’re a mother too.
You would’ve done everything for your boys.
You’re fighting higher powers here, Maria.
The first Bavarian beer tent with space for 6,000 guests!
Today’s the cornerstone ceremony!
World debut at the Wiesn this year!
You’ll be amazed!
Mother.
They’re handing these out everywhere.
That asshole is going to get our stand.
He killed your father.
YOUR DEAR COLINA
WILHELMINE AND FRIEDRICH
Can I come in?
Of course.
I saw him again.
How stupid are they?
Those are Luggi’s people.
Sorry, Ludwig. I would’ve been here earlier,
but Denhardt didn’t know what to wear again.
-You idiot. -Who cares?
You’re here now.
And we’re not leaving any time soon. May I introduce you to Thomas, Fanny…
And wherever Fanny is, the pope will dance in his underpants.
Anita, Stephan, my Russian Friend Vassili,
and Denhardt and Thoma from that old rag Simplicissimus.
They’re all artistically mental, if you ask me,
but they love your beer.
Oh, Ludwig. Just as we like it.
Time for some Absinthe.
Ms. Clara.
Guys from these kinds of parties…
You don’t understand.
Oh, but I do.
And if I understood correctly, he’s long forgotten about you.
For men…
it’s a rather… short-lived pleasure.
We lost our fathers.
The period of innocence is over.
It coincides with an outbreak.
Catholicism…
is being driven out of society.
And what lies below comes to the surface.
It isn’t the end of the world.
Rather…
the beginning.
See the signs of the times.
Don’t listen to Thomas. He’s just thinking about his novel.
Denhardt would like to see your sketches.
If you convince him, you won’t need the academy.
Denhardt!
Hello.
Well… uh… yeah, I don’t know…
Is your brother there?
Hello. I don’t know.
Could you please fetch him?
Loisl! Where’s Roman?
How should I know? Probably out and about somewhere.
I’m sorry.
Who do we have here?
Let us go.
Are you Fanny zu Reventlow?
I read each and every word of yours in the Zürcher Diskussionen.
We should really go, Ms. Clara.
Thank you.
Ladies and gentlemen,
may I have your attention, please?
For the wonderful Fanny.
This is a poem by our admired teacher Nietzsche,
who’s not so well, as we’ve heard.
Thomas thinks it’s a good fit.
The signs of the time. Listen.
"I grew too tall
over man and animal.
Now when I speak,
no one speaks with me at all.
I grew too lonely.
And too high.
I wait.
For what do I wait only?
Close by, the clouds are sitting.
I wait.
Wait.
For the first lightning…"
Subtitle translation by John Turner