That coat’s cashmere.
Clerk Next.
Lily is so absorbed in watching the Tribunal arrive, she doesn’t hear.
Next.
Franz nudges her and she rushes to the window and hands in her folder. Most of the following sequence is seen through the inquiries window. The Clerk opens Lily’s folder and goes through her papers.
Don’t want to see that. Don’t want to see that. I’ve seen that. Well? Nothing else?
Lily says nothing. The Clerk thrusts the folder at her, and it falls on the floor.
Next.
As Franz steps up to the window, Lily is at his feet, gathering up her documents.
Lily (looking up apologetically) He’s got mistaken. He’s confusing me with someone else.
The Clerk studies Franz’s paper, clips a docket to it, makes a note, all the while carrying on a conversation with an unseen Official behind him.
Clerk Why Vienna?
Official I fancied a change.
Clerk Don’t we all?
INT. INQUIRIES OFFICE. DAY
We cut to inside the inquiries office. The Clerk shows Franz’s paper to the Official. The Official sits on a chair which is on castors, which enables him to slide down his desk towards the clerk.
Official Dustbin job.
Clerk Quite, but which one? The fourth-floor dustbin or the second-floor dustbin?
Official Who are we not friends with?
Clerk 404?
Official 404. Anyway, they’re supposed to like work, Jews.
The Clerk stamps the docket and hands it back to Franz through the window. We see Lily and Franz through the inquiries window.
Lily (looking at Franz’s docket) That’s this way.
INT. MAIN HALL/CORRIDOR TO LIFT, OFFICE BLOCK. DAY
Franz leaves with his paper and docket, and follows Lily upstairs into a corridor.
Lily (to Franz) Come along, (to Passers-by) Good morning.
Franz follows Lily into a lift. She nods to everybody, but particularly to Officials, though they do not respond.
INT. LIFT/CORRIDOR, OFFICE BLOCK, DAY
The gates of the lift clash to.
Lily Good morning.
The Man operating the gates has a gloved hand and works the gates with such abandon he could well have lost the other in the operation. The shot should emphasize the machinery of the gates, and any item (like scissors) we happen to see that is capable of inflicting an injury. There should also be an impression as the lift goes up of a large building, so that we hear the sounds from the various floors as the cage slowly ascends. In the lift is a young girl, a Seamstress, with her hand bandaged. The Seamstress is talking to her neighbour in a low voice.
Seamstress They said was I sleepy. I wasn’t sleepy. I don’t get sleepy. Lift and push, lift and push. How can you get sleepy? It’s a skilled job. Then they made out the safety guard wasn’t in position. It was in position, only I’ve got little hands. The guard is meant for a man’s hands. (Shows her bandaged hand and her whole hand to her neighbour.) The spindles go in and out, in and out, stitching the pattern into the cloth. So naturally it stitched me to the cloth.
Lily and Franz come out of the lift.
Lily Good morning.
Franz follows Lily through a door and into a corridor. It is lofty with various doors off it and could be a corridor in an art gallery or a concert hall. Once through one of the doors the atmosphere is more muddled and intimate. The topography of the offices in general is intricate and illogical, rooms oddly located, sudden staircases, like the topography of a dream. The topography of The Trial is that of a dream (and not a nightmare particularly) and the office should be similar, though without losing touch with reality. Franz fails to close the door he and Lily have come through.
Attendant Door! Door! Door!
Franz walks up to the Attendant and shows him his docket. He indicates for them to sit in the waiting area. Behind the Attendant is a corridor lined with offices, partitioned off from the corridor and each other by a wall. The upper part of the wall is glass, divided into panes, like the partitions in nineteenth-century schools. It is therefore possible to see from the corridor into the offices and from one office into the next. The glass dividing screens have small sliding panels through which one office can communicate with the other, another odd dream-like feature.
INT. OFFICE AREA. DAY
In the office are three clerks, Gutling, Culick and Pohlmann. Gutling is a large, fastidious creature, Culick a bit of a Romeo and Pohlmann placid and plump. We see an Office Girl go through into Pohlmann’s office with a cigar box. Pohlmann is interviewing a workman.
Pohlmann Now it’s possible that your firm will try to put the blame on you.
The Workman holds up his bandaged limb.
Workman Me?
Pohlmann Yes. Just because you’re the injured party, it doesn’t mean you are not the guilty party.
Very low under the following Pohlmann dialogue, we hear Gutling and the Jam Workman in the next office.
Gutling (out of vision) I can’t find the form, of course, but we’re assuming your employer is up to date with the premium. If he isn’t I’m wasting your time and what’s more important you’re wasting mine. It says here you were scalded. What with? Pohlmann (seeing the Girl with the cigar box, in mock despair) Oh no, not me. You haven’t seen me. I’m not here.
The Collecting Girl waits.
Collecting Girl Your grade are putting in five.
Jam Workman (out of vision) Jam. Pohlmann My grade.
Gutling (out of vision) Jam? He puts a peeled boiled egg in his mouth, whole.
The Gutling dialogue now becomes predominant.
Jam Workman (out of vision) Jam. You have to understand, sir, jam is not like water. It’s syrup. It sticks. Pohlmann groans and puts a note in the box. The Collecting Girl goes, and we go with her as we hear Pohlmann continuing with the questionnaire. Faded down under Gutling’s conversation.
Gutling (out of vision) I know jam.
Now, degree of incapacity.
We go with the Collecting Girl as she goes along the corridor to the next-door room, but pauses with her hand on the handle of the door of Gutling’s office as she sees another Girl coming down the corridor. They chat, and we see beyond them into Gutling’s office. A middle- aged Man is telling Gutling the story we have already half heard. The following conversations take place simultaneously.
Jam Workman I have two vats. The foreman said, ‘I’m going to give you two vats. Normally it would be one, but I’m going to give you two.’ Collecting Girl I don’t know whether I’m coming or going this morning. When are they going to have a whip round for me, that’s what I want to know? Is your hair different?
Gutling How long is the scar? (He takes out a ruler.) Friend I washed it.
Collecting Girl No. It looks different.
Friend You’re just not …
The Collecting Girl is still poised, her hand on the door knob chatting. This annoys Gutling who keeps glancing at her. Suddenly he jumps up, runs across the room and wrenches open the door.
Gutling Do you want me or not? Some of us are trying to work.
The Jam Workman looks round at the Collecting Girl and we see his scar.
Collecting Girl Everybody’s putting in. It’s for the Director.
Gutling How much?
Collecting Girl It’s optional.
Gutling Rubbish.
Collecting Girl Five marks.
Gutling Here’s four. I’m not like these other fellows. I have to look after my money.
The Jam Workman has got up and is looking at the Collecting Girl.
Jam Workman Excuse me, but aren’t you a friend of my daughter?
Collecting Girl No.
Jam Workman Didn’t she invite you to go on a cycling holiday in the mountains?
Collecting Girl No.
Jam Workman So the name Rosa means nothing to you?
The Collecting Girl shakes her head.
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Gutling It seems rude to interrupt but we appear to be losing sight of the job in hand …
Gutling guides the Jam Workman back into the room and we follow the Collecting Girl down the corridor into the next office. In the next office Culick, the youngest and best-looking of the clerks, is filling out a form. A Man with his head bandaged sits by the desk.
Gutling (out of vision) … Are you interested in compensation or aren’t you? Culick (shakes his head) Your employer pays. The government pays.
Head-Bandaged Man The shop said they are not responsible.
Culick (still writing) Well, they normally do. (Pause.) What did you do with the ear? Did you save it?
Head-Bandaged Man No.
Culick It’s not important.
The Collecting Girl has come in. Culick gets up to talk to her.
You realize you’re taking a risk, being alone in a room with me?
The Collecting Girl is only slightly embarrassed and looks at the Head-Bandaged Man.
Women can’t keep their hands off me, do you know that?
Collecting Girl It’s only a gesture.
A Man in a dust coat enters. He looks enquiringly round the office, spots an artificial leg leaning in a corner and goes and gets it. Culick squeezes the Collecting Girl’s breasts.
Culick So’s that.
Collecting Girl Not now.
Culick goes back to talk to the Workman.
Culick Does it incommode you in any way? Only having one ear? Do you wear glasses?
We follow the Man in the dust coat as he leaves, and pick up Gutling showing the Jam Workman out, fading up their conversation.
Gutling … Can you or can you not lead a normal life? Since it’s perfectly apparent that you can, I advise you to go away and lead it.
The Head of Department, just arriving for work, comes along the corridor. He is with the Head Clerk.
Head of Department I was at the opera last night and it occurred to me …
Gutling Good morning, Head of Department.
The Head of Department ignores him.
Head of Department The motor car.
Head Clerk Head of Department?
Head of Department Potentially a significant accident statistic or not?
Head Clerk No is my instinctive answer. Still, I’ll give it some thought.
Head of Department Do.
They stop. The Head Clerk now withdraws.
Head Clerk (as he goes) Oh, and Head of Department. Congratulations.
The Head of Department nods complacently and departs as we follow the Head Clerk to Kafka’s office. He opens the door and puts his head round. Kafka is staring out of the window dictating to his secretary, Miss Weber, who is taking it down in shorthand.
(mouthing at Miss Weber) Busy? Come back later.
He withdraws and by the time Κafka has turned from the window he has gone.
Kafka (faded up) … Although an extremely cautious operator would take care not to allow any joint of his fingers to project from the timber, the hand of even the most careful operator was bound to be drawn into the cutter space if it slipped. In such accidents usually several joints and even whole fingers were severed. Amen.
During the above, Kafka has taken up a letter he has opened.
My brother-in-law tells me he’s starting a factory. Can I help him? (Glances at Miss Weber.) Ear-rings today.
She fingers them.
Do they go right through?
She smiles and nods.
You had a hole dug in your ears! What courage!
Miss Weber It’s my body.
Cut to the waiting area where Franz is sitting in line with Lily, Lily nudges Franz and indicates Kafka, who has come down the corridor.
Lily This is the fellow you want to see.
Franz rises and goes towards Gutling and Kafka who are talking to a Butcher Boy with a bandaged arm. Gutling has taken the boy’s folder and is studying it.
Kafka You’ve been in the wars.
Boy Yes, sir.
Gutling (consulting the folder) Our old friend the mincing machine. (Reads the account of the accident.) You stupid fool, putting your arm down.
Boy The throat was too long. The truncheon wouldn’t reach. You have to put your arm down.
Kafka Wasn’t there a guard on the worm?
Boy I took it off, sir.
Gutling Well, then it serves you right, then, doesn’t it? In any case you don’t belong here. You should be downstairs in 272.
Boy I’ve just come from there.
Kafka Go back, and if they try and send you somewhere else say Doctor Kafka says to say you’re not a football.
This is the first time we hear Kafka’s name.
Boy Yes, sir.
Gutling (as they walk back down the corridor) So, having fed himself into his machine, we now feed him into ours. Ha!
Franz follows them down the corridor trying to attract Kafka’s attention.
Franz Sir.
The Attendant pulls him back and Kafka ignores him with a smile.
Kafka Have you noticed how often when claimants are telling you about their accidents, they smile? Why do they smile? They’re apologizing. They feel foolish. Utterly blameless yet they feel guilty.
Gutling goes into his office and we go with Kafka into his, where the Head Clerk is looking at a report on Kafka’s desk.
Head Clerk Bricks falling on someone’s head. Do they ever do anything else? I say, do they ever do anything else?
Kafka moves over towards his desk.
Kafka Yet another firm trying to make out the fact they had an accident was sheer accident. Accidents, as we well know, are never an accident.
He sits. The Head Clerk peeps into the next office through the partition and finds Culick staring into space, with Gutling and Pohlmann beyond him, eavesdropping. The Head Clerk opens the panel in the partition.
Head Clerk Get on. Get on. (Culick jumps to it but now it is Kafka who is staring into space.)
Kafka I thought of Japan.
The Head Clerk looks askance.
Bricks don’t fall on people there. They have paper houses.
Head Clerk They do, they do. Doctor Kafka …
Kafka Why is everything so heavy? This chair. This desk. The poor floor, carrying the burden. The sheer weight of Prague.
Head Clerk Doctor Kafka. It’s no secret we’re losing our Head of Department. Elevated to the fifth floor. Higher things. A chance for a modest celebration. A presentation. A speech perhaps?
Kafka Excuse me, Head Clerk, but you have a small smut on your chin. Don’t be alarmed.
Kafka rubs the Head Clerk’s chin with his handkerchief.
Head Clerk Well?
Kafka Help! I must go and put my head under a circular saw.
INT. SAWMILL. DAY
A large sawmill with lots of overhead belts. It is a dangerous and tricky looking place and there is a dreadful din. The Manager shows Kafka a large circular saw. Kafka examines the guard rails and looks under it, discussing it with the Manager, though all this is unheard through the din. Then Kafka goes to another machine some distance away. This has no guard rail. A Workman is standing by, watching. We see Kafka turn to the Manager and point this out, and ask him why, again unheard through the din. Mix through to:
INT. OFFICE AREA. DAY
Franz is still waiting, though now he sits by Pohlmann’s desk. Pohlmann and Gutling are stood in front of an open filing cabinet. Both are searching through the files.
Pohlmann is eating a sandwich as well as looking up the docket. He places the sandwich on top of the open drawer. Culick is standing next to Franz with his foot on the desk – he is mending his shoe with glue.
Culick Is it my imagination or do we get more shit than anybody else?
Gutling Of course. There are four hundred people working in this company. Since only two of them are Jews and one of them happens to be Doctor Kafka we get sent a lot of shit. It’s only natural.
Pohlmann lo
oks askance and then walks away from the filing cabinet and, leaving his sandwich there, goes back to his desk where Franz is sitting opposite. Gutling removes the sandwich from the file with an expression of distaste and puts it on Pohlmann’s desk.
Pohlmann I don’t seem to be able to trace it. When did you have this accident?
Franz It wasn’t exactly an accident.
Pohlmann Ah.
Franz I’m ill through work.
Culick (still mending his shoes) Well, I’m ill through work. We’re all ill through that.
Gutling, having found what he was looking for, sits down on the desk – on some paper which Culick has been wiping his glue on.
Franz My skin’s broken out. Look …
Pohlmann (hastily) No. We deal in accidents. You haven’t had an accident.
Franz I get splashed with the dye. That’s an accident, it happens all the time.
Gutling So it’s not an accident, is it?
He goes back to his desk where his Client is waiting, the glued paper stuck to his trousers.
Franz But it’s fetched my skin out.
We cut to Gutling returning to his office.
Gutling Look. This number here means that your firm has a policy that covers factory premises. It isn’t a comprehensive cover for the firm’s employees outside those premises.
Culick enters.
Culick He doesn’t want a rundown on the filing system.
Culick has put his foot up on Gutling’s desk and taken Gutling’s scissors to cut off some fraying strands from the bottom of his trousers.
Gutling Why don’t you put your foot on your own desk?
Culick Because I haven’t any scissors.
The lunchtime bell rings.
Lunchtime!
Gutling (getting up) I’m going to have to refer you back.
Client It was their barrel.
Gutling You’re not our pigeon.
Culick goes.
Client (who is limping) And I ruined a perfectly good umbrella.
We follow him as he goes and end on Pohlmann and Franz in Pohlmann’s office.
Pohlmann It may clear up.
Franz It’s spreading all the time. Somebody said I should see Doctor Kafka. If he’s a doctor he might know.
Pohlmann Ah! He’s not that sort of doctor.