All language subtitles for My.Mothers.Wound.2016.TURKISH.1080p.WEBRip.x264-VXT

You can still change your mind.

We just discussed that.

Yes, but...

If you change your mind
I won’t have broken my word.

Get that trumpet scholarship...

And shoot off to university.

You’ve given me the address now.

Just tell me,
is the place miles away?

Look.

All roads here
lead to the same place.

Salih, so many kids like you
have done the same.

It’s pointless.

OK, if I don’t find the answer,
I’m pointless too.

Give me your blessing, Sadık.

What to do?
Of course you have it.

C’mon.

Get him!

You’re just asking for a thrashing.

Hey, OK, OK.

-Listen.
-Huh?

Don’t look for your dad.

I’m your dad.

Salih. Salih.

Say hi to your mom.

I’ll find yours first.

There’s the bell. Go, guys.
Get to your classes.

Sadık’s there, look.

C’mon.

Sadık! I’m out of here, OK?

The door.

Salih, don’t go.
Please don’t go.

Maradona.

Get to your classes.
I’ll write to you. Now go.

Are you looking for someone, son?

For the shoemaker here.

The shop’s around the back.
Off you go.

-How do you put up with that hill?
-İhsan, bless you.

You go out of your way...

To bring me all the old shoes
in the neighborhood.

-Thanks.
-Well, the wife wanted new slippers.

-So as I was coming anyway--
-Hello there.

Hello, friend.

If you’re ordering shoes,
they’ll be at least 2 weeks.

No, I’m not here for shoes.

Your shoes think otherwise.
That’s why I said it.

Get him a stool.

-No, please.
-Do I always have to tell you?

I don’t have any money anyway.
It’s--

Maybe I want to help your shoes,
not you.

İhsan...

I’ll have these done in 3-4 days.

But the slippers will be a week.

They need more attention.
What do you say?

What can I say?

Say yes.
Say yes to something.

She must want something new
to throw at me.

-If you say so.
-How’s your wife? Nerma?

OK, thank goodness.

We muddle along
like two rattletraps.

-Say hello to her.
-I will.

Give those to him, not me.

He’ll bring you slippers.

One day he just might do something
without being told.

God willing.

-Mom!
-Yes?

My guest here needs coffee.

Thanks.

How do you like it?

-Very sweet.
-Very sweet.

Hear that, Mom?
Penniless and sweet-toothed.

He looks sweet enough, though.

So let’s hear it, kid.
What’s going on?

I came from Zenica.

-From the orphanage.
-And?

Sadık, our principal...

He made a promise. And when I turned 18
he gave me your address.

-What, this place?
-Guilty and pointing the finger.

-He said the shoemaker in Simin Han.
-Enough bad news from your teacher!

Can’t we hear something good for once?

And they scowl at the boy’s mom
because he’s lazy.

I was too immersed in the woman’s hair
to hear what she said.

-Avni!
-I just saw the bird nests.

Or rather, I couldn’t see
the ones I’d seen before.

They must’ve ruined them.

-Is that so?
-Yes.

I see.

We have a guest.

Forgive me. I’m too busy with Vedad
to see anything else.

He’s smart,
but he doesn’t listen in class.

Welcome. I’m Nerma.

-Thanks. I’m Salih.
-Salih?

Hear that, mother?
The coincidence! He’s Salih.

When my son was born I agonized
over whether he’d be Salih or Vedad.

-That’s why.
-And I said Vedad.

Yes. Pardon my asking,
but why are you here, Salih?

Nerma, we were just--

But Mirsad, the name thing,
it’s so uncanny.

I love the name Salih, you see.

Sorry, you were explaining
why you’re here.

I’ve a storm raging in my head.
Words fly around.

-Then I don’t know what I’ve said.
-Nerma.

If you’re going to be here,
I’ll busy myself inside.

Right, I’ll be inside then.
Vedad.

Vedad. Vedad, son.
Go wash up.

My wife talks that way.
Don’t mind her.

-Dad?
-Huh?

I don’t want Mom at school again.
You come.

Good grief, you rascal! Work harder
and let’s not either of us come.

-But, Dad.
-Off you go.

-You don’t understand.
-Enough lip from you.

I fixed with the circumciser
to do you next week.

I’ll tell him
to chop the whole thing.

My boy’s going to be circumcised.

Who did you say?

Sadık. The principal at Zenica.

-Mirsad!
-Sadık, from Zenica.

-Mirsad!
-Mirsad.

-See to Nerma.
-Is there another shoemaker here?

No.

-Sadık.
-Mirsad, here a sec.

-Mirsad, see to her.
-Hey, OK!

Wait.

Wait, I’ll figure it out.

I’m on my way.

I’m on my way, sweetheart.

You come with me. C’mon.

Come with me.

We’ve battled for 15 years to forget
what you want us to remember.

You can’t stay here.

What’s up?

Isn’t it odd we get so many grapes
when the leaves fall off every year?

Hmm, but we’re in spring now
and it’s beautiful, huh?

One day a relative...

Spoke of a beautiful girl
in the neighboring village.

Then I saw her at a wedding.
The prettiest thing.

Nerma was pregnant with you.

She sat quietly in a corner
while everyone else had a ball.

I asked who she was.
They told me.

She had an uncle, Ahmet.
They were all at his place. Waiting.

Soldiers came. They shot her uncle.
Right in front of her.

Nerma was 15-16 at the time.

The beasts went for the girls.

Then the commander came.

Well, a man they called "commander".

They all had nicknames.

But the girls all knew the man.
They lived in the same street.

The commander yelled at the soldiers
to stop.

The girls all thought
they’d been spared.

The commander threw them
out of the house.

He took Nerma by the hand. And then...
Then he shut her in the room.

The girls were shouting ‘Nerma!’
outside the door.

They banged on the door.

Nerma remembers nothing after that.

He had an eagle tattoo on his belly.
That’s all Nerma remembers.

She either forgot the rest
or doesn’t want to remember.

Nerma, how about you rest a bit?

Did I talk too much again?

It’s not that.
Have a lie-down.

-I’ll rest then.
-Uh-huh.

-I’ll rest. I won’t sleep.
-Don’t sleep, just rest.

Vedad’s teachers messed with my head.

I don’t know what we should do
with the boy.

-He’ll be OK.
-Then I’ll sing to myself.

What shall I sing?

-The Vardar Plain.
-The Vardar Plain.

The Vardar Plain
Vardar Plain

Mirsad. Mirsad.

-Come and lie with me.
-But Nerma, the boy’s waiting.

Five minutes. It’ll be OK.

Five minutes.

Nerma was 16 when you were born.

We moved here.

Mirsad doesn’t know a thing.

He was in the war.

I gave you to an orphanage.

I had Nerma and Mirsad get married.

Then Nerma began taking a lot of pills.
She forgot everything.

I haven’t said a word to Nerma.
I won’t either.

Nor should you.

You mustn’t say.

She doesn’t recognize you.

You know why nights are dark
and plants flower for a season?

OK, do you know...

How much I hate chatterboxes?

But I never want you
to stop talking.

There’s a new life in this house.

A young child.

I don’t know
what Sadık told you.

But here’s some money.

Here.

Take these, too.

You can’t stay here.

Who’s that man?

Why do you want to know?

Who?

I’m making beans for tonight.

Hello, Hüseyin.
How’s things?

What was our teacher called?

Saffet. Of course.

-It’s best if you don’t go.
-No, I have to.

He might be dead.

God willing he isn’t.

My child.

Are you going?

Why did you come
if you’re going so soon?

Umm... I’m distant relative
of your husband’s.

It was just a visit.
I’ll come again maybe.

OK, Salih. Salih.

But Vedad’s a nice name, too.

Good.

You’re very beautiful.

So are you.
What’s the big deal?

Goodbye, then. Thanks.

Where is he?

-Who?
-The boy.

I don’t know.
He must’ve gone.

Where will I find him?

Why do you want to know?

Where is he?

He may be dead.

God willing he isn’t.

In that case
go to the right place.

Go to Prijedor.

Prijedor.

-Off you go, son.
-Go on, sweetie.

Be careful on the way.

-He’s coming.
-Learn well today, son!

Don’t run!

You think I was rude to the boy?

Huh? Yesterday.

I spent 5 minutes inside
and then he was gone.

Why worry about it?

He seemed a good lad.
He can fend for himself.

-Who is the man?
-The soldiers call him Lazar.

They all have nicknames.

His real name is Borislav Milic.

He was Nerma’s neighbor.

My child, to forgive someone
you must sometimes punish them first.

He has an eagle tattoo on his belly.

That’s all Nerma says she remembers.

Borislav Milic.

Yes.

Why did you come
if you’re going so soon?

-It was just a visit. I’ll come again.
-OK, Salih.

But Vedad’s a nice name, too.

Hello.

Hello.

Excuse me.

Never touch a man from behind
if he’s holding a saw. It’ll kill you.

-Are you here for work?
-Yes.

-You have experience?
-No.

But I’ll do everything.

-Are you honest or dumb? Your name?
-Salih.

Salih.

-What are you doing, Boris?
-Mari. Salih’s here for work.

The right T-shirt.
Marija. A pleasure.

And my husband Borislav.
He’s a Partisan.

Please don’t be another of the boys
he fires in 3 days.

-Hang in there.
-I’ll do my best.

Then you’re hired, Salih.
At least for the time being.

Aren't you going to ask me?

And let the animals go hungry
for another month? This way, Salih.

-Mari, I was interviewing him.
-You still can.

Here are our animals.
They need feeding 3-4 times a day.

No! Twice.

Salih, where are you from?

-Zenica.
-Your family’s there?

I don’t have any family.

Those are the henhouses.
Borislav is particular about his eggs.

-Is it every 2 days they’re collected?
-Every day.

Sorry, every day.
How old are you by the way?

-Born in 94.
-Nineteen.

And that’s where you sleep.

That field was... I forget what.

Whatever, you tell Salih. Go on.

Good luck, Salih.
Hang in there, OK?

Explain properly, Boris.

Mari. Go away.

The Red Star got you hired.

Mari says this farm needs 3 workers,
but one decent guy is fine for me.

If I can find him, that is.

Come with me.

This is the workshop.
Behind it is the garage.

Next door the abattoir.

Our animals are here.
Their feed.

There’s the garden.
Behind it a field.

Take the animals to the back
of the field. You hear me?

-Yes, sir.
-Yes, what?

I have a perfectly good name:
Borislav Milic.

Move.

You know what the job is, right?
You came here by design.

-Yes, sir.
-Yes, sir.

Look, there’s Goran.
You can call him "sir".

Pigs are bad news for you guys, right?

-It’s not a problem.
-No, just forbidden.

Then you can handle
the tzatziki business.

Excuse me?

Artificial insemination.
I’ll explain if you stay.

The job is all the farm chores.
I’ll give you 2 weeks.

If it works, fine. If not...

You don’t exactly seem up to it.
Don’t forget.

I’m not what I seem, Borislav.

Bravo.

We have to hire that idiot
just to piss me off?

-And who hired the last idiot?
-I did.

He seems like a good kid
and he needs it.

So let’s adopt him.

-Funny, is it, Borislav?
-No.

-It’s funny, huh?
-No, Marija.

-It’s funny, huh?
-No.

His name’s Salih.

So?

You know how Muslims are treated
in Prijedor.

See this?

Stick it up anyone
who uses faith to discriminate.

I’m sorry.

-It really wasn’t funny. Sorry.
-No, stop.

But maybe if we make love...

The trial period can begin.
Huh, Mari?

We’ll try, OK? Huh, Mari?

You want that?

Wait, wait.

Mari.

Zenica Orphanage

-Hello. Can I speak to the principal?
-Can I ask who’s calling?

Mirsad.
Mirsad, the shoemaker.

Can you hold the line a second?

-Hello?
-Hello, principal.

It’s Mirsad Seydic.

-From Simin Han. The shoemaker.
-Hello.

I guess you sent
one of your boys my way.

You gave him my name and address,
but I...

Forgive me, I wasn’t sure
if we’d met before.

Was I supposed to give him a job?
I don’t want to do the wrong thing.

-That’s why I’m calling.
-Is the boy still there?

No, he left as soon as he came.
Even his shoes are still here.

What relation are you to Mevlide?

She’s my mother.

Look, I know Mevlide.
I don’t know anything more than that.

If you talk to her...
Can I speak with her?

No, she isn’t here right now.
But--

In that case I have nothing to say.
I’m sorry.

Have a good day.

Hello.

Borislav asked for the saw.

It’s hanging up there.
Can you get it down?

Up there. Look.

That one.

I don’t know
what to do with these bugs.

Are you bugs making fun of me?

Have you settled in?

No.

I found it hard, too.

Excuse me?

What brought you
all the way from Zenica?

Work.

-Have you been before?
-No. It’s my first time.

You may find Prijedor a bit...
It may get to you.

No one speaks much of the camps
or the treatment of Muslims in the war.

-It’s normal.
-They pass it off as civil war.

There are 100 memorials to the Serbs,
but you won’t find 10 for Muslims.

There you go.

-Are you from around here?
-No.

I came later like you.

But not for work. For love.

Borislav.
Then he’s from here.

Borislav is from nowhere.
When we met and fell in love...

We decided on this place and settled.
What do you think?

Good.

There should be at least one thing
a person is good at.

If it’s carrying saws, so be it. Huh?
C’mon, go!

Put it down there.

Bring me the pig.

C’mon.

Hold this.

Wait.

What’s up?

I’m making potato stew.

We haven’t had it in ages.
You must be dying for it.

Thanks.

You know that boy?

-Who? Vedad?
-No.

The one who came the other day.
Salih.

-From the orphanage, remember?
-Yes. He came and went.

What do we do?

I called that orphanage.
I spoke to his principal.

A man called Sadık.

And he said...

The only person he’d speak to
was you, Mom.

OK. I’ll call him and have a word.

Who is this Sadık?

I can’t think straight, Mirsad.
An old acquaintance.

I suppose he sent an orphan.

As if we don’t have
enough troubles of our own.

What are you doing, Boris?

-Didn’t you say I’m sexy when I read?
-Read cookie recipes?

What can I do?

Salih.

Salih.

I’m here. Yes?

You went to bed
with the fish there?

-It’s no problem.
-Of course it is!

Move them to the barn.

The flies here are crazy at night.
I got you this.

-Thanks.
-Are you used to the wacky décor?

The last boy was into rock and metal.
Thank him for it.

This place is a bit like a watchtower.
Keep an eye on us, won’t you?

OK, good night.

He has an eagle tattoo on his belly.

Lazar.
The soldiers call him Lazar.

His real name is Borislav Milic.

To forgive someone
you must sometimes punish them first.

Dad.

It won’t hurt, will it?

Not the tiniest bit, son.
Don’t worry.

It won’t hurt.

Tell Mom and everyone not to look.

OK.
Nerma, no looking.

-I’m not.
-No looking.

-No looking, kids. Shut your eyes.
-OK, now count to 10.

One.

Two.

-Yes?
-Three.

There, all done!

Mirsad.

Where have you been?
I looked for you so long.

I’m here.

But they tied the balloons badly.

Half have floated away.

And then the kids
insist on undoing the string.

I warned them so many times.
But did anyone listen?

-They looked so pretty.
-OK.

-You can’t tell them anything.
-OK. So what?

But the cakes are good.

Did you try the fruit one?

-You didn’t?
-Uh-uh.

I hope there’s some left.
It’s delicious.

-Come and sit here.
-With all these guests?

Sit down. Pull up that stool.

C’mon. Sit yourself down.

A glass together.

The pills?

A glass together.

Just one won’t hurt.

Just one won’t hurt.

Here you go.

In that case...

To our son’s graduation,
to his wedding and happy days.

The sweetheart.
My Salih didn’t cry once.

Thank God.

Thank God.

Vedad.

Vedad.

Salih.

Built a wall before?

That’s a no.

-But I can guess.
-Good.

-C’mon, Boris. We have to go.
-Coming, Mari.

Three shovels of sand, one of cement.
Water. Mix it. Mortar.

Brick. Mortar.

Brick. Mortar. You’ll finish
before we’re back. It’s easy.

You locked it twice.

The trial period.

We didn’t warn them.
I wonder if they’re home?

Leave them at the door.

Where are you going, Boris?

I forgot my wallet.

Just one day
can you not forget something?

Salih.

Salih.

Salih.

Salih.

I’m here.

Where?

I was seeing to the sheep.

Come with me.

Now look, Salih.

When I give you a job
don’t mess with anything else.

Is that clear?

OK.

I want the place spick and span.

Right, left. One, two.

Your turn now. C’mon.

You do it and I’ll watch.

Right, left. Right, left.

One! Two!

Three! Go!

He’s more excited than the kids.

He’s the same at home.
I have a crazy husband.

Thanks, Marija. How can we repay you
for the bikes and things?

It’s nothing.
No one buys my bikes anyway.

They’re in demand here.
Anything to make the kids happy.

I should get going.

OK, kids. I’m going.

-No.
-Yes.

-Goodbye.
-Goodbye, Marija.

Prijedor Orphanage

-I’ll get it.
-No, it’s OK. You get the others.

I was going to get some stuff together
for your kitchen.

Let me do that before I forget.

Do you cook?

Yes.

When was this photo taken?

Around 15 years ago.

When Boris was in Germany.

How do you like the hair?

-So you weren’t here during the war.
-No.

Go get that stuff there.

I saw things were f*cked here
and ran to Germany.

I stayed 4-5 years.

Then I fell in love.

I got married.
That’s my life.

Any more questions?

You have any more tattoos?

Yes. Look.

Yes, OK. I know.

Don’t, it’s only been 2 days.
Salih, put these on the top shelf.

Push it a bit further.

Dad. Where’s Mom?

I don’t know.

OK.

Vedad, home free!

-But, Mom.
-Home free!

I can’t run in these.

So why wear such huge shoes?

Take them off. I’ll be "it"
and then it’s bedtime, OK?

-OK.
-Mom.

-Mom.
-Huh?

Did you speak to Sadık?
What happened with that?

Stop delving. Enough!

-I did what I did.
-Why are you yelling? What did I say?

It’s over and done with.

Thanks, doctor...

But will the woman
never be out of the woods?

-I never sent her into the woods.
-OK, will she be on pills forever?

Sure, I prefer to err
on the side of caution...

But you’ll be dealing with it.

Are you ready?

I don’t remember
how much of what I gave her.

-A lot of everything probably, but...
-Doctor.

-I have the prescription here.
-You carry it around with you?

-Well--
-OK.

Let me see.

Let’s try dropping these two,
for example.

OK, we’ll drop these two.

I want Nerma to look at me
without those pills.

She will.

She’ll look a bit lost,
but she’ll look at you.

I’ll drop by next week.

How’s it going?

-Better than the orphanage.
-Hmm. That’s progress.

-Try some gardening. It’ll help.
-No, thanks.

Real men don’t garden, right?

That’s just how Borislav thinks.

No, our principal...

He was crazy about plants.
We were all like gardeners.

Same story with the Red Star.
I know nothing about football.

-Really? You aren't football crazy?
-Afraid not.

Don’t tell Boris.

-It’s our secret.
-OK.

Here, then.
A reminder of your principal.

Thank you.

I guess you have no kids with Borislav.

No. It’s just us.

-Good night.
-Good night.

-Are you OK?
-Fine.

Vedad, slow down.

It’s just you’re quiet.

-Damned if I talk, damned if I don’t.
-It’s not that.

-Good grief.
-I’m fine, Mirsad. Stop worrying.

I stop taking the pills
and you become all anxious.

You’re right.

Maybe I should take those pills?

Maybe I’d shut up.

Get up.

Come with me.

What was that by your bed?

I play a bit.

A knife the size of an elephant’s dick?

It’s the orphanage.

-The panelboard, they say.
-A blown transformer.

There are kids inside.

-Who called you?
-Kabil.

-The firefighters!
-On their way, they say.

The front’s kaput.

-Let’s go in through here.
-Break down the door!

C’mon!

-How many people inside?
-One kid. Aged 15-16.

C’mon!

-Soak the rope!
-Salih, soak the rope!

Buckets!

-Where is he?
-On the north side.

Break down that door!

-One. Two.
-Careful!

Move!

Keep going with the ropes!

Pour it on!

He’s not moving, Ratko.

What do we do?

Pull. Pull.

Danilo!

-Hey!
-Pull, pull!

I’m going in.

How could you dive in without thinking?

You can’t afford to think
if a kid’s life is at stake.

-Amazing how organized you were.
-Army service helps.

You said you weren’t in the army.

I didn’t say that.
I said I hadn’t fought.

You ask too many questions.

How come you ask so many questions?

Mirsad. Mirsad.

Mirsad.

-Nerma.
-Mirsad.

Nerma.

-Mirsad.
-Honey.

-Mirsad.
-Honey, I’m here.

Mirsad. Mirsad.

Come here.

Sweetheart, it’s OK. Calm down.

Dad.

Dad, what’s up?

It’s OK, son. Nothing.
Go back to sleep.

Are you OK?

Want some water?

Uh-huh.

Mom.

Here you go, dear. Drink.

Easy now. Easy.

It’s over now.

It’s OK. It’s over now.

The bugs.

Yes, afraid so.
We can’t stop them.

-You’re up early.
-There’s work to do.

Take a break now and then.
Forget Boris. I’ll cover for you.

-Thanks.
-Go into town.

Roam around.

Maybe you’ll find a girlfriend.

What, by going into town?

You would know,
but I doubt you’ll find one here.

Look.

-True. I’ll go in one day.
-So maybe...

You can go on this.

It’s yours.

Come here.

Take it.

-Go on.
-Thanks a lot.

If you have a bike as a kid,
everything seems doable.

You can get one later,
but the road runs out.

Life is short, Salih.
You should fall in love.

The guy was dead.
You should’ve seen.

Hey, king of the dogs!

That’s you guys.
You’re king of the dogs.

-How’s it going?
-Good. You?

What time is it?

I took in a ton of smoke last night.
Where were you?

-No one told me.
-Sorry, I forgot to send an invite.

Salih! Salih!

I’m here.

C’mon, move.

Where are we going?

Wherever you want.

What would you do here?
Pick flowers with Marija?

-What happens to guys who pick flowers?
-They get soft, Mari.

-Aren't you sick of him yet?
-No, but I’ll keep you in mind.

Boris!

-What the...?
-For God’s sake.

Stay away from my wife!

You were born beasts
and you’ll die beasts.

I’m going to shoot a beast for you.
And bring it back to the farm.

Go right ahead.

-C’mon, let’s go.
-You’re giving me a headache. Go!

Let’s go.

Gavrilo, the bottle.

Hunting gives you a longer life, Salih.

Watch for two things when you shoot.

One.

Hold the gun hard against your shoulder.
If you aren't careful...

It’ll do your face in.
And wreck your shoulder.

You hear?

Guns don’t ask questions.
They kick back.

Hold it.

You understand? Huh?

Hold your breath when you shoot.

Like a corpse.

You can’t kill without dying.

You understand?

Hold your breath...

And you shoot with your eyes.
Don’t and you shoot with your ass.

Any last questions?

So he’s not a sniper.

OK. So you’re a natural.

Take it slowly, but focus.

Don’t shoot.

Don’t rip the animal apart.

Easy.

Push his head down!
His head! Wait!

OK. See that?
My bullet got him in the head.

-My ass!
-What do you mean?

Whose bullet?

Write your name inside the bullets.

-What’s going on?
-Nothing.

What’s up?

Nothing.

Nothing. It’s OK.

Nothing. It’s OK.

OK.

OK, OK.

That’s how you’ll learn to hunt.
OK, c’mon.

-President.
-Yes?

Let’s have the raki.

How is it?

Fine, Mari. Fine.

It looks nice.

Nice, sure.
Like a gift package.

Salih, what’s going on?

-I burned some coffee.
-Coffee?

For the bugs.
It chases them away.

Really?

I learned it
from our principal.

I thought I’d do it
before they invade the other plants.

OK, this is stuff that nobody wears.

Now we’re even.

Thank you.

Don’t go in there now.

Salih. Thanks.

-Suits you.
-What?

What did you say?

I said it suits you.

Wait.

You wear it then.
Now get to work.

Nerma?

What are you doing?

Jumping for joy.

Come outside a second.

I’m too done in.
I can’t go anywhere.

-Mom, please come.
-C’mon. You won’t be lugging rocks.

Mom, please.

OK then.

Surprise!

-We’re off on a picnic with İsmet.
-Here, to keep away the evil eye.

When you’re well
we’ll all be well.

-Vedad.
-Don’t let us down.

-OK, but let me prepare some food.
-It’s all done.

Go safely.

Come here.

Over there.

You aren't locking up.

You gave him all my shirts.
What else can he take?

Like you wear them all the time.

-Goodbye, Marija.
-Goodbye.

-Borislav and I are slowly giving up.
-Why?

Two years is normal.
We have 150 families waiting.

Looks like we’ll never have kids.

Your hospital treatment?

That’s history.
It wasn’t meant to be.

Dad.

C’mon!

Honey?

Let’s go, Mirsad.
I can’t take it.

Why? What’s up?

Let’s go.
I can’t take it.

-What’s wrong, honey?
-I don’t want to be here.

OK. OK, let’s go.

Get up. We’re going. OK.

Salih!

Come over.

Come join us for dinner.

Don’t worry,
we cooked lamb for you.

Here, relax and enjoy.

Forget lamb, forget boar.
For your birthday I’ll roast...

A camel in the backyard.

But we’re tidying up the backyard.

That’s Salih’s job. He has instructions.
It’ll be perfect by your birthday.

When’s your birthday, Salih?

-I don’t know.
-What does that mean?

I know the day
I was left at the orphanage.

Troubled soul!
Go get that bugle.

-What?
-He plays trumpet. I saw it.

-Really?
-I’ll play later. Not now.

Great. Play, won’t you?

-Not tonight. Another--
-Go on, play.

-Another time, please.
-OK, fine.

There you go, Bosnian obstinacy.

No, my love.
They call it Albanian obstinacy.

Albanian, Bosnian, whatever.
Obstinacy is obstinacy.

In that case, to Bosnians,
Albanians and obstinacy.

To Cameroonians.

-C’mon then.
-You, too. Drink up.

Salih.

Salih.

Dear Marija and Borislav...

I have to go.
Thanks for everything.

Salih.

Salih.

Salih.

C’mon, the fish won’t wait.

-I’ll be right there.
-OK.

Mirsad.

I’m here.

What’s going on?

Nothing. I just felt like one.

Don’t start again.
I won’t be happy.

I won’t. Don’t worry.

Go back to bed.
I’ll be along.

I won’t be able to sleep.

OK, I’m done.

Let’s go back to bed.

The shirt’s good,
but not the pants.

If I’d had a son,
we’d have been like this.

We’d have gone hunting and fishing.

We’d have drunk together.

I was suspicious of you at first.
I thought, "Who’s this kid?"

A Muslim in Prijedor
wanting work on the farm.

You ask weird questions.
You have this dumb look.

I mean you’re weird.

But you’re only as weird as me.

And I like someone on the farm
who pisses standing up.

Salih.

Your trial period’s over.
Welcome.

Thanks.

Forget the orphanage.
Don’t let it get to you.

I had a father,
and what did that do?

Son of a bitch,
he raised me like a pit bull.

But you ended up a good guy.

So where are the shoes?

Well, well.

Avni, you go.

That was quick.
Not like you, though.

-Mom.
-Huh?

Nerma’s started having nightmares.

How about changing her pills?

Last night
she was yelling in her sleep.

She says "Salih" in her sleep, Mom.

Mirsad, enough.

You called me for the shoes.

Don’t ruin my good mood.

If you know something, tell me.

I don’t know what to say.
There isn’t anything.

You’re making trouble
when there is none.

So, a man called Sadık,
a total stranger...

Knows more about me and my wife
than I do?

-These are too small.
-Mom!

We caught every fish in the lake.
Call it orphan’s luck.

Bravo.
Bravo to you too, Salih.

-I have to change.
-Hurry. We need to go into town.

OK.

-How’s things, Salih?
-Good.

-Is something wrong?
-No.

So everything’s OK?

You packed your bag.
Where are you headed?

Please. I’m really sorry.

-I couldn’t tell you.
-Has something upset you?

I need to find my family.

That’s why...

Sure. Fair enough.

Do you have any idea
who or where they are?

No.

It’s a war story, right?

As if there were any other.

Aren't you afraid?

Why?

You could be opening a Pandora’s box.

It’s kismet.

Seeing you happy here...

-You are happy, aren't you?
-Yes. Very happy.

I guess I thought this place
would make you forget the past.

No.

It doesn’t work like that.

Prijedor Registry Office

Marija?

-Hello, Dejan.
-Welcome.

What do you want
with so many lights?

I’m opening a club.

Who cares, Borislav?

Just look at the bulbs you sell.

Hey, OK. Stop bitching.

The bottle’s low.
What should we bet for?

No idea. Lunch.

No, marbles.

If you make a bet, it has to be
for something good. Like, say...

The winner gives the loser
a tattoo of his choice.

So it’s a deal? Huh?

It’s a deal.

Does that bugle of yours work?

Trumpet.

Trumpet.
I heard this story.

If you don’t play for 3 days
you forget how. Is it true?

-Yes.
-Ungrateful bugle.

When do you think?

-He was abandoned after the war.
-What year?

1994-95, I think. Thanks.

-Yes.
-Is it possible to find his parents?

1994-95, you say.
You can’t rule anything out.

What if we contacted someone
from the records?

If he saw his mother or a relative?
I want to try.

Sure, we don’t know
how he was abandoned.

Mari, don’t go digging all this up.

It’s 20 years in the past.
So, leaving it to history to--

-You mean?
-I mean, just in case.

Don’t meddle.
And don’t get me involved.

Dejan.

I don’t need you for this advice.
I’ve heard it all my life.

You’re picking over the rice.

Hmm.

Honey.

-It’s hard, Mirsad.
-What’s hard?

Without the pills.

-Well, yes.
-I’d forgotten.

Honey, it’s hard
but at least it’s real.

OK, it’s real, but...

Is that a good thing?

-Are you scared?
-No.

Be scared.

-I scared you.
-You started early again.

I’m a farmer,
not a fake like you.

Farmers go by the sun.
How do you turn this on?

I’m busy, Bori.
C’mon, don’t mess me around.

Whoa!

Man, you animal!

Watch your mouth.
Salih wants a tattoo.

Later, Bori.
I have to go home.

You go, or I’ll cut you up.

-I’m not dealing with you.
-Don’t.

-Do what the hell you want.
-I will.

I’m going.

Dumbass!

Leave the keys.

Huh.

He’s gone.

The crap tattooist is gone.

The best in the Balkans
and the Middle East is still here.

Borislav Milic.

I don’t like flowers indoors.

I like axes.

Boris, I want to say something.

I don’t like books.

-I don’t like glasses.
-I want to say something.

-I love you.
-I love you, too.

We must do something for Salih, Boris.

We must do something for Salih.

Do what, Mari?
Breastfeed him if you like.

Boris, get up.

Get up, Boris!

Breastfeed?
Do you know what you said?

Stop talking shit.

There’s a limit to everything.

Mari.

I’m sorry.

Hey. Hey.

I’m sorry.

You aren't as upset as I am
that we can’t have children, are you?

Mari.

We won’t be having children.

It’s what He wants.

There’s you. There’s me.

And there’s no one else.

You know what I pray for?

For God to give a baby
to every woman who wants one.

He gives them to women who don’t.

-Boris.
-Huh?

You’d have been great with kids.

The chickens are hungry,
the sheep aren't out.

That’s what happens
when you drink all night.

-He forced me.
-Sure.

This place isn’t a hotel, Salih.

Paint your room. As punishment.

If you want a different color,
go buy it.

Did you ask for that tattoo?

I guess so.

You should put something on it.

There was just one of you,
now there’s two. Bravo!

Salih!

Salih!

Salih!

Get up. We’re going.

Get up.

-What’s up?
-We’re going to hospital.

His stomach. From drinking.
Spasms or bleeding.

-It’s not bleeding!
-Boris, get up.

-It’s a waste of time going.
-Get up.

-OK, OK.
-His shoes.

I’m OK.

Salih, you go that side.

-Mari, really I’m fine.
-Enough!

I’m fine. She’s making me walk.

-I’m going to the car.
-Go on, go.

-Come with me.
-Borislav, wait.

Are you OK? Huh?
C’mon.

Marija.

Nice tattoo.

How could you pick that?

Drink like a man.

Are you OK?

It’s unfinished
but a nice tattoo.

Salih, I’m fine. Look.

Don’t say too much, Salih.
Help me down.

-You hear?
-Yes.

Son, listen to your teacher in class.
Don’t make trouble.

But Sıddık makes me laugh.

-Mother.
-Huh?

What did you say to Salih?

What?

What did you say to Salih?

What did you tell the boy?

-Off you go to Hüseyin’s now.
-I’m eating.

You’ve had enough. C’mon.

You’re as bad as each other
making something out of nothing.

You told him something.
He ran away from here.

I dream about it every night.

-You aren't well, dear.
-I’m fine, mother.

-Let’s hear. Don’t drag it out.
-C’mon, Mom.

Then stop this! I’m not saying.

You give your wife her pills
or do whatever you have to.

Did you give him these?

Why did you do that?

I told him to go.
I said he couldn’t stay.

Why?

I gave all my answers in the war.

Your youth, my son’s leg.

Enough.

Enough! Don’t make me talk.

Mom.

Mother, come here.

Mother, come here.

You have to tell me what happened.

You have to.

Why’s it a secret?
Talk to me. Open the door.

Open the door.

Open the door.

Mother, please open the door.

Mom.

-Tell me what happened.
-God damn me.

Why did I lose my youth?

Nerma.

She won’t open the door.

Let’s stop asking questions.

Please, let’s stop asking.

I didn’t lose this leg in the war.

I lost it fleeing from the war.

The day I trod on that mine
I was deserting the front.

I wasn’t one of the brave.
I was one of the cowards.

I was so ashamed afterwards.

So ashamed. Not because...

They strapped this on.

Because I couldn’t help.

I was ashamed of being a coward.

Now I’m afraid.

But I’m not ashamed.

There’s no shame in being afraid.

-It isn’t a sin either.
-Isn’t it?

People are afraid.

Hello.

If only you’d left payment.

You could’ve said you were going.

I’m sorry.

-But that’s not why I’m here.
-Really.

It’s not why I’m here.
A weird thing happened.

I was checking the patient’s file.
Then I saw you.

The patient’s name is Borislav Milic.

I first saw the name on my phone.
You left.

And second time you’re here.

It just seemed interesting.
Like karma.

That’s all. See you.

Wait. Umm.

OK, I’m very sorry.

Really. About that day.
I had to go.

-That’s why--
-You don’t need to say anything.

OK. You don’t need to either.
In there, I mean.

Keep Borislav Milic out of it, OK?

OK.

-How are we? We look well.
-Great.

-Thanks.
-The results are good.

-Good.
-Great. Then I can leave.

-Who said you were better?
-I didn’t.

We’re having a party.

Boris, are you crazy?

-Tamara, you’re invited, too.
-What party?

Do you know each other?

-No, we just met.
-Are you happy?

Are you happy you met?
Salih’s a great kid.

Let’s take your blood pressure.

-I’m fit as a boar.
-Come here.

-The lights are ready, the wine, meat...
-So the bike came in handy.

Here, it’s yours.
Just in case.

And keep your letter.

-We’re here tonight. Let’s talk tomorrow.
-Anything I can do?

No. A romantic night
with my husband awaits.

-But lock up at home. Don’t forget.
-OK.

Your blood pressure’s OK.
See you in 30 minutes.

-See you.
-Tamara, thank you.

You’re welcome.

Salih.

Cute girl.

When are you coming back?

Ask your dad.
Isn’t your boss giving me a ride?

Granny.
Can I come to auntie’s?

No. Not now. C’mon.

He’s working.

I see.

Hello.

I wanted to see Borislav Milic.

What about? I’m his son.

-About work.
-There isn’t any.

Who said there was?

A friend of your dad’s.
He said to talk to Borislav Milic.

Go ahead.
Talk to him if you can.

I guess the guy doesn’t know my dad.

I see. There must be some mistake.

-Hello?
-Hello, Salih? Where are you?

I don’t know exactly.
I’m roaming around.

Roaming around? Good.
We’re leaving the hospital.

You come home, OK?

Hello?

Salih, come home, OK?

-OK.
-OK, then.

OK.

Dear sons of bitches...

Let me begin this letter
with greetings to all of your pasts.

Our Sadık told me
not to go digging up my past.

But I dug around a bit.
I didn’t learn a lot.

That’s all I can tell you.

If any of you dolts has the same idea...

So if lamebrain Ziya, say,
plans to find his mom when he gets out...

He should find me first
and listen to me.

The outside world
isn’t a lot like our place.

I’m in Prijedor.

It didn’t look good at first,
but I found work on a nearby farm.

I have a place to sleep.
No one meddles.

There’s no canteen smell.
What more could I ask?

So things aren’t bad.
They’re good actually.

It’s a nice place, too.

Drop by if you’re passing.
I’ll add all your moms on Facebook.

Salih.

There’s actually
another point to tonight.

If I try to explain,
I’ll only mess up. Boris?

Everyone should know their birthday.
That’s all.

-So that’s it?
-That’s it.

It’d be good
if everyone knew their birthday.

That’s why. Where is he?

Salih, happy birthday.

Happy birthday, Salih

-Happy birthday, Salih
-Sing along.

-Sing.
-Happy birthday, Salih

Happy birthday, happy birthday

Happy birthday, Salih

Bravo!

Get your cake.

We’re too busy singing here.

Good.

Make a wish. Blow.

-Nice one.
-Bravo!

Boris, look. Watch this.

Yes. Musician. What’s going on?

Bravo.

He plays the bugle.

Well! Let’s hear it.

Good night.
I’ll do the rest in the morning.

Salih.

Of course
you must look for your family.

But stay here.

You can keep looking.
We can look together.

We’re good together.

Look.

Boris is happy, too.

OK?

OK.

Thanks a lot for tonight.

-Good night.
-Good night.

Let’s see if there’s anything
in the records there.

Though if there was,
I’d have seen it here.

-A relative or something.
-Hello?

Hello.

I’m Dora Jancic,
head of the Prijedor Orphanage.

There’s a record I wanted to check.
Can you put me through to Sadık?

OK, I’ll wait.

It’s no job for a shop under the house.
Times have changed.

What can I do?
It’s all I know.

-Thanks, honey.
-Thanks.

Don’t say it’s all you know, Mirsad.
Use your brain.

-Hello?
-I’m sorry to bother you.

I’m Marija.
I’m calling from Prijedor.

Can I speak to Mevlide?

Speaking.

Mevlide,
I got your number from Zenica.

We have a worker here.
His name’s Salih.

He lives with us, too.
On the farm, that is.

I don’t really know what to say, but...

I wondered if we could help Salih.

-Please, forgive me.
-Where are you?

In Prijedor.

We have a small farm near Tepica.

He helps us out.

Sure, I have no idea
what you’ve been through.

I thought you had a right to know.

And Salih’s looking for you.

-Maybe...
-Tepica.

Yes. If you ask for Marija’s farm,
everyone knows it.

I called to say come
if you want to see him.

Mevlide.
You’re always welcome here.

It’s no distance from the village.

But if you don’t want to come,
sure I...

You have the wrong number.

Hello?

Borislav Milic.

Borislav. The mailman.

What?

He needs to sign.

-You need to sign.
-You do it.

I’m going to Salih, Mirsad.

It’s no good like this.

You’ll be angry that I didn’t tell you
but I need to see him.

It may help.

You said let’s remember,
so I’m trying.

Mom.

Mom.

Nerma’s gone.

OK, dear.

Did you hear me?
Nerma’s gone. To Salih.

I did my best not to say anything,
but you wouldn’t have it.

Where’s she gone, Mom?

Someone ruined our lives.
And someone should’ve made it better.

Is this how it’ll get better?

How could you keep this from me
all these years?

She’s my wife.

As if you didn’t know.
Did it never occur to you?

How else could you marry
the prettiest girl around?

Salih.

How are you?

How did you get here?

They called.

Who?

Marija?

Did you come alone?

Salih, is there a glass of water?

Water.

I’ll get one.

-Thanks.
-Here. It’s nothing.

-Maybe we should go into town.
-Why?

I asked Mevlide here.
She’s my guest.

Stay here.

Or as you like.

-I’ve really put you out.
-No, you haven’t.

-This is Salih’s home, too.
-Thanks.

I’ll leave you to it.

I’ll be in the kitchen.

She’s a good person.

-You look well.
-I am.

It’s nice here. I’m working.

Good.
I’m well again now.

The words don’t fly around.

She called you Mevlide.

She called and started talking.
So I didn’t say I was Nerma.

I’m well again now.

I came all the way here by myself.

I’ve stopped taking pills, too.

I remember you coming to visit.
Didn’t you come?

You did.

You said I was beautiful.

And you left all at once.
What happened, Salih?

-Why did you leave like that?
-Nothing happened.

Something happened, Salih.
Did Mevlide throw you out?

-What did Mevlide say to you?
-Nothing.

She said something to you
and you left. What did she say?

She didn’t say anything.

Salih.

What happened to me, Salih?

What happened to me?

-I don’t know.
-What happened to me?

I don’t know.
I came because...

Our principal gave me your address.

Salih, what happened to me?

You may be the only person who knows.
Please say what happened to me.

I don’t know.

I don’t want to know either.
Not any more.

OK. Let me ask you one thing.

Are you my son?

Are you my son, Salih?

Why would a mother abandon her son?

How could she? Why would she?

Something happened to me.

Who am I?

Who am I?

I only know who I am.

Who are you?

My mother’s wound.

Where’s the bathroom?

Inside.

Marija, I’m going.

Where? Just a second.

Who’s this?

-My husband. Years ago--
-Borislav Milic.

Yes.

My neighbor.

Your neighbor?

They broke down the door.

They came in.

They called him Lazar.
I was confused.

-What are you saying?
-I remember.

Salih.

An eagle tattoo.
He had an eagle tattoo.

That man raped me.

What?

His mother’s Jelena,
his father a mechanic.

He had a big old red Jeep.

They all went to the football
every weekend.

Salih!

-What are you saying?
-He’s a Partisan.

It’s him.
He always wore the same jacket.

-Black and--
-Salih, come here!

With lots of writing.
It’s him.

Salih.
Salih, it’s him.

-It’s Borislav Milic. Lazar.
-No, no. It’s not.

-Salih.
-Wait. I’ll explain. It’s not.

-Salih, it’s him.
-There’s a ton of Borislav Milics.

Salih, what’s going on here?

-It’s not.
-You’re his son, Salih.

-I swear, Salih. I remember.
-Get out of here.

-Wait.
-Get out of here.

The scar.

There’s a scar on his neck.
From me.

He said,
"Stop. They’re my neighbors."

I thought we’d been saved.

They raped thousands of women.
They kept us in warehouses.

So we wouldn’t have abortions.
It’s him, Salih.

He wasn’t here during the war.
He has photos.

It’s the first lie he’d tell.

I remember, Salih.

Mevlide left you in Zenica.

The tattoo?
He doesn’t have an eagle tattoo.

The crap tattooist is gone.

The best in the Balkans
and the Middle East is still here.

Borislav Milic.

You’re my son.

You’re my son.

There’s nothing to be afraid of.

Everyone killed each other in the war.

But they raped us.

I abandoned you.

Forgive me.

But don’t forget.

Don’t forget what they did to us.

-You should go. Now.
-Salih.

Go.

Go.
Get out of here.

OK, please.

Nerma.

Borislav.
Salih, let’s go.

Salih, it’s him.
Let’s go, I beg you.

Boris, what’s the woman saying?

What’s the woman saying?

What’s the woman saying, Boris?

Was it me who started the war?

It all happened in one night.

If we hadn’t killed them,
they’d have killed us.

See? They’ve come and found us again.

We shouldn’t have let any of them go.

God damn you.

C’mon.

C’mon. Hey, c’mon.

C’mon.

C’mon. Hey, c’mon.

C’mon.

C’mon.

My son.

I’m not your son.

You hear?

You hear?
I’m not your son!

Take it.

-Salih.
-C’mon.

I said take it!

-C’mon.
-Salih, let’s go.

-Salih, let’s go.
-Huh?

I’m not your son!

Dammit!

Boris.

Say something.

Boris.

Say something. Speak.

What am I going to do now?

What am I going to do now?

Speak to me. Say something.
Please say something.

Please.

Say something.

Say something!

You told me
I’d be great with kids.

You’re great with nothing.

You’re great with nothing, you know?

You’re great with nothing!

I’m the only thing you were good with.

Give that to me.

Give it to me.

Nerma.

Nerma!

Nerma!

I love you.

What?

I love you.

You love me?

I love you.

Marija.

Salih.

Salih.

To all beautiful children...

Who let go of an unhappy past...

In the name of a happy future...