The Fifth Seal

Four friends sit around a table at Béla's bar, sharing stories and nerves as the war presses on. A wounded photographer returns from the front and joins their circle, adding a weary, firsthand perspective to their talk. The mood blends camaraderie with the shadow of the conflict outside.

The photographer, fresh from battlefront duties, sits with the friends and listens as their conversation shifts between small talk and moral questions. He adds a weary, first-hand glimpse of the war’s brutality. His presence deepens the tension in the room.

Two Arrow Cross officers enter Béla's bar and order drinks, reminding everyone of the regime’s presence. Their casual arrival underscores how fear and authority permeate daily life. The men watch them with guarded eyes as the night unfolds.

After the officers leave, the four friends exchange bitter whispers and call the regime’s agents murderers. The comment reveals their own moral lines drawn in the time of occupation. The exchange deepens the tension and foreshadows the danger ahead.

Miklós poses a moral conundrum by describing Tomóceusz Katatiki and his slave Gyugyu. Katatiki’s barbarous morality is juxtaposed with Gyugyu’s imagined innocence, highlighting questions of guilt and complicity. The hypothetical forces the friends to confront who would bear responsibility for their own fate.

The photographer says he would choose Gyugyu, claiming that innocence determines true guilt. The others scoff, doubting that such a choice could be honest under fear and oppression. The moment deepens the trust fracture among friends.

It is revealed that Miklós Gyuricza is hiding Jewish children at his flat, a dangerous secret in occupied Hungary. His moral posture is immediately tested by the war’s brutality and the risk of exposure. This revelation sets up the tension between virtue and survival.

László drinks to excess and ruminates on the question Miklós raised, his thoughts drifting into hallucinatory, paranoid landscapes. The alcohol magnifies his inner turmoil and fear of consequences. His mental unraveling mirrors the city’s fragility.

The four friends gather again at Béla's bar, attempting to keep some semblance of normalcy. The looming threat of the Arrow Cross casts a pall over their conversation. The night feels heavier as the regime's paranoia intensifies.

Arrow Cross officers arrest the four after someone reports they called the party murderers. They are taken to an office where a brutal demand is made: slap a dying partisan in the face to be freed. The act tests their loyalty and humanity under coercion.

Gyuricza is the only one who complies with the officer’s demand, forced to strike the dying partisan. He exits the building stunned, his sense of self eroded by what he was made to do. The moment marks a break in his spirit and a pivot toward a grim resolve.

As Gyuricza walks away, the city trembles with explosions and collapsing buildings. The war’s violence closes in on the characters, binding their fates to the chaos around them. The spectacle of destruction mirrors their shattered moral certainties.