All language subtitles for Idonotcareif2018

The population is now free,

after a quarter of a century
of Red Terror.

They rejoice openly.

People in Odessa and
all over the Bolshevik reign

were cut off from the outside world.

Now they hear war news
from the Romanian Radio society.

Above Odessa,
the brave soldiers of the Cross

raise the Romanian flag
for which they fought.

It waves in honour
of Romanian victory.

"I DO NOT CARE
IF WE GO DOWN IN HISTORY AS BARBARIANS"

...some writers were
watching a boxing match on TV.

One of the boxers KOs the other
with a solid punch.

Then one writer shouts:

"That's the Critique of Pure Reason!"

Hello.

I am actress Ioana Iacob,
playing Mariana Marin.

Not the poet, unfortunately.

Both me and my character
are Romanian ethnics,

baptized as Christian Orthodox.

Unlike me, Mariana is an atheist.

I will be playing alongside
Alexandru Dabija, Alex Bogdan,

Ilinca Manolache, Serban Pavlu...

The seniors are here.

- The oldies.
- Okay.

Speaking of Ilinca.

Enjoy the film!

Not that way.

Hello, Madam.

Thank you for coming.

So you're interested in our project?

It's a chance to
make some money.

I've done things at the Seniors Club.

- Me too!
- Marathon, karaoke, poetry recitations.

I didn't like the karaoke.

- There will be work to do.
- I'm no stranger to work.

- The boss' word is law.
- Oh, a kind of Führerprinzip!

So, show me how you'd run.

As if someone set you on fire.

Run trying to put out the flames.

- He's a good runner.
- Please.

Help, it burns my heart!

Mr. Lupu!

Let's not mock this.

Who's mocking what, Miss Pinocchio?

You were.

- Is that how a man on fire runs?
- How else?

You show us!

- But I'm no actress.
- Me neither.

Mrs. Racoviță, please try...

No, I want something else.

Pretend to cry for mercy.

"Don't kill me" etc.

I've done plenty of crying in this life.

Have mercy, I'm begging you!

Don't kill this poor old lady!

Excellent!

We need some life, some authenticity.

Like Ceaușescu's wife at the trial.

"No, you can't tie me up, my children!"

Did you miss me, Sara?

...he's so irresponsible.
But I'll manage.

A father shouldn't say that.

How are you?

Working.
These Austrians are terrible.

Germany's dumb cousins.

How's your work going?

Slow, but I have some ideas.

I'll manage.

I'll hang up,
I need to read something.

- Show it to me.
- What, my cunt?

Yes!

Seriously, Dacian.

- No one will see.
- Stop it, I'm tired.

What are you reading?

Isaac Babel.

This was during
the Polish-Soviet war.

The Commander has reported
Novograd-Volynsk was taken.

- Can you hear me?
- Yes.

Our transport is strung
like a noisy rearguard

along the high road
from Brest to Warsaw

built on the bones of muzhiks
by Nicholas I.

Fields of poppies flower around us,

the wind is playing in the rye,

the virginal buckwheat rises
like the wall of a distant monastery.

The quiet Volyn river is curving,

withdrawing into
a mist of birch groves,

entangling itself in thickets of hops.

An orange sun Is rolling
across the sky like a severed head,

a gentle radiance
glows in the clouds,

the standards of the sunset
float above our heads.

There is the odor of
yesterday's blood and slain horses.

The Zbrucz river roars
foamy knots in the rapids.

The bridges are destroyed,
we ford the river.

A majestic moon lies on the waves.

The sonorous currents ooze
between hundreds of horses' legs.

Someone drowns, defaming Virgin Mary.

The river is littered with
the black rectangles of carts,

above the serpents of the moon
and the shining chasms.

Late at night we arrive in Novograd.

In the house to which I'm assigned
I find a pregnant woman and two Jews.

A third is asleep,
covered up, against the wall.

In my room - ransacked wardrobes,
scraps of women's fur coats,

human excrement and
shards of sacred vessels.

"Clear up," I say to the woman.

"What a dirty life you live!"

The two Jews get up.

On felt soles,
they clear the detritus,

monkey-like,
like Japanese in a circus.

Their necks swell and revolve.

They spread a torn
feather mattress for me.

I lie next to the third, sleeping Jew.

A timid poverty
descends over my bed.

All has been killed by silence.

Only the moon, clasping
her head in blue hands,

loiters beneath my window.

I rub my numb feet and fall asleep.

I dream of the Commander,

pursuing the Kombrig
on a heavy stallion.

He shoots two bullets into his eyes.

The bullets go through;
his eyes fall to the ground.

"Why did you turn the brigade about?"
the Commander shouts.

I wake up: the pregnant woman
is tapping me on the face.

"You are shouting and thrashing
in your sleep," she says.

"I'll move your bed.
you're kicking my daddy."

She raises her thin legs
and uncovers the sleeping man.

The old man is lying
on his back, dead.

His throat is ripped out,
his face hacked in two,

blood clings in his beard.

"Panie," the Jewess says,
"the Poles killed him."

"He begged them:
Kill me out in the backyard,"

"so my daughter won't see me die."

"But they did what suited them."

"He died in this room,
thinking of me."

"And now tell me,"
the woman said with terrible force,

"where in all the world
you would find a father like mine."

That's it.

Beautiful.

Russians.
The Suedes' poor cousins.

Bye then.

Where did these come from?

An American film,
Zombies vs. Wehrmacht.

- Are they authentic?
- Yes.

We can add accessories.

An Iron Cross, a gas mask...

A Linnemann shovel.

- And swastikas?
- Not all uniforms had them.

The SS had them.

- Maybe.
- Please check.

- It all has to be authentic.
- Of course.

- Where can I change?
- Shoo, you Venus in Furs!

The Schutzstaffel...

Now hold out an arm.

Shout "Heil Hitler! Sieg Heil!"

Not funny at all.

- Just joking.
- Bad timing.

Any Russian or Romanian uniforms?

Sergiu Nicolaescu left us
hundreds of Romanian uniforms.

- A bit old, though.
- I see.

And they may be shitty fakes.

Oh no, Mr. Sergiu would never...

We can fix them up.

The Russian ones
we have to make from scratch.

- Weren't they supposed to be duds?
- You mean blanks.

That, yes.

I want the weapons
to be frightening.

If it was just us,
we could have used training ammo.

But you want civilians as extras.

- Drop them.
- No way.

The brass band marched on,
The lead drummer at the front

Was slender and mustachioed...

These will do.
As long as they look real.

- Horrible!
- They're only frightening to girls.

Around 1877,
they wrapped gunpowder in paper.

Like candy.

To load your weapon,
you had to tear the wrapping...

Can I try this?

...tear the wrapping, load up and shoot.

So, to not be sent to the infantry,

Romanian peasants
pulled out all their teeth.

With pincers.

So they couldn't tear
the gunpowder wrapper.

They couldn't be
in the front-line infantry.

- Cowards.
- Not all of them.

Mostly the rookies.

Some innocents died
in this, in the 1989 Revolution.

The officers mistaken for terrorists.

- Really?
- Yes.

Sorry.

Look, bullet holes!

A soldier beheaded an officer
and put his head here.

Someone stuck
a cigarette in his mouth.

Is the museum allowed to show it?
People died in it.

It's not the only one.
That's from WW I.

And tanks from WW II.

Items from the 1989 Revolution.

- We can rehearse here.
- Good.

Sissies, let's rehearse!

You're a good imitator,
can you do Marshal Antonescu?

- Now what?
- I don't know.

We have 25 minutes
for the whole event.

Stylized, compressed, theatrical.

- Sorry, it's suffocating.
- Two meters back!

You wear a knapsack,
like Wittgenstein.

- What?
- The philosopher.

He was in WW I.
He even volunteered.

He wore his knapsack
for the rest of his life.

- What army?
- He was Austrian.

So the German...
well, Austro-Hungarian army.

Our boys must have smashed him!

- Made him crawl!
- And suck cock!

I always carry
my advance command post.

Let's study the battle map.

Let's split them up.
Romanians, Russians, Germans.

Okay. Line up!

He could be that general
who dies in the blast.

I don't give a fuck,
as long as I'm not a Bolshevik.

Barbu's motto is:

"I was born screaming,
covered in someone's blood,"

"I don't mind dying the same way."

Right?

Bugger off!

Sweet.

You'll be Alexianu, Transnistria's Governor.

No, Baldy here should be Alexianu.
You'll be Antonescu.

We serve our fatherland!

Who wants to be German?

- How many Nazis?
- About a quarter.

About 15, then.

Okay, do the Nazi salute. Heil!

Karl Marx.

Final assault!

Russians, hands up!
Romanians and Germans, act happy!

And repeat.

- One hand or both?
- One!

- What do you think?
- It's okay, but...

- I can't picture it all together.
- It's all calculated.

I can't picture the pyrotechnics,
the videomapping...

Don't worry.

Shouldn't we shout "Heil Hitler"?

- During the attack?
- At the end, victoriously.

Maybe.

Dragos!

- Shout "Heil Hitler".
- I can't, sorry.

- It doesn't make you a Nazi.
- But I get laryngitis if I shout.

What do you get if you lick pussy?

- I'll do it. Madam.
- Don't "Madam" me.

- I'm Mariana.
- Manole.

Romanians, shout
"Long live Marshal Antonescu!"

He only became a Marshal after Odessa.

No, after he took Bessarabia.

Long live Marshal Antonescu!

Get back,
let's do it again!

"Dirty Communist Jews and traders..."

Traitors!

"...leave Bessarabia and N. Bukovina!"

- Too long.
- It's what the banner said.

"The war was caused by dirty Jews.
Fight the warmongers!"

- Good, it's short.
- This one's okay.

The hanged in Odessa.

If you project that on the building,

the resolution might be poor,
look at the pixels.

I see.
It will show, right?

- Can we get a better scan?
- We'll see what we can find.

"Communists and dirty Jews
robbed you."

"The Romanian and German armies
come to give it all back."

- Too long.
- Yes.

"Dirty Jews and foreigners,
perish before the sun of Justice!"

- That works.
- It would fit.

It's more impressive.

With that "sun of Justice".
It's more ludicrous.

Good.

What?

They're showing that film
in praise of Marshal Antonescu.

- What film?
- The Mirror.

Antonescu's hagiography.

The Mirror?

- Isn't that Tarkovsky's?
- No.

It's directed by our Sergiu Nicolaescu.

Hitler told me about total war.

A fight not of armies, but of peoples.

He spoke of total victory,
an oath of violence.

I was horrified.

Information shows that you agreed

to deport Romanian Jews to the East.

Inexact!

I deported no Romanian Jew.

Only those our troops found
in Bessarabia and Bukovina.

90% of them didn't know
a word of Romanian.

Most were brought
to replace the Romanians

deported by Stalin to Siberia.

Defendant Ion Antonescu,
you have your last word.

If I have time for
a political will, it will read:

Oh?

Romanians!

I am proud of my nation.
born of noble Romans and Dacians.

I fought two wars for your glory.

I gladly go to meet your martyrs
a little sooner.

They all fought for your justice.

Some collaborators
turned their backs on me.

I shall not turn my back
on their mistakes.

I leave the country
all that was good in my rule.

I take upon me the bad,
except for murder.

Which you leave to us.

If I had won, my statues
would have risen all over Romania.

I demand the death sentence!

That is all.

But before ending,

like Scipio Africanus, the Roman general,

I say to all Romanians:

You, ungrateful people,
will not even have my ashes!

Let's have another drink.

Imagine that in Germany.

Films on TV paying homage to Hitler.

- When was the film made?
- In '93-'94.

- Sinister!
- Sheesh!

- It's funny.
- In a way.

Why did he call it The Mirror?

Maybe the Marshal is
the mirror of the nation.

Marshal Pétain!
Vive la France et les colonies!

Jean Ancel, The History
of the Holocaust in Romania.

Simon Geissbühler, Bloody July.

The Iasi Pogrom. I thought the Germans
ran the death trains there.

Germans and Romanians both.

The trains were maneuvered
and guarded by Romanians only.

Most were moved around
in trains until they died,

of suffocation or thirst.

Thousands of people.

In June '41, Hitler wasn't yet
killing Jews en masse.

Goebbels' journal quotes Hitler:

"In these matters,
a man like Antonescu"

"acts far more extremely than we have."

What next?
Hitler was born in our country?

You know the "my country" joke?
"My cunt re-ally doesn't give a fuck."

- I'm sick of all the Jews whining.
- What?

You can laugh at
Jesus and Mother Theresa,

but you can't even
purse your lips at Jews.

Have you ever seen
a debate about this in Romania?

You're obsessed with
the Romanian pogroms.

What we Romanians did
is too sinister to understand.

- I can't understand!
- What's to understand?

All of Europe was anti-Semitic.
So we became European.

We imitated them.

- We were pretty mild.
- We have our share.

Our troops killed Jews
on the Eastern front.

Happily joined by
Romanian and Ukrainian civilians.

Codename Clearing the Land.

- They killed their Jewish neighbors?
- It seems so.

Romanians raped them too -
the Nazis were too Aryan for it.

Communists were no better.

Of course, but it annoys me
that this works like negationism.

Comparative trivialization.

Meaning?

If you talk about
Romanian Holocaust and anti-Semitism,

people get outraged:

"Communism was worse!
Stalin this, Mao that..."

What's this, a massacre contest?

Funny how everyone says:

"The USSR-imposed Communism
was the worst."

"Innocents killed, nationalization,
no freedom of expression" etc.

But we had given them up willingly.

Murder?

It was fine when the Legionnaires
and Antonescu did it.

Theft?

The Jews lost all they had
and no one opposed.

And freedom of expression...
forget about it!

- But they were Jews.
- That's the only difference.

Don't freak out, but...

- Go.
- My period is late.

- Uh-oh.
- Maybe it's nothing.

Sometimes it comes
a few days late.

- Then why tell me?
- For the sake of conversation.

- Get a pregnancy test.
- I will.

- I wouldn't force you into anything.
- That's not it.

- Just do it.
- I will, lay off it.

I'm anxious. If it's my baby...

I'm not fucking anyone else, so drop it.

I didn't mean it, sorry.

It's late, I'm off.

It sucks that you never stay over.

I have an early flight to Timișoara.

I wish I could believe you.

Whichever way...

- Keep me updated.
- Sure, a software update!

It's all about you anyway, right?

You being worried and whatnot.

- Do you ever think of me?
- I do!

That's why I said to do the test.
Otherwise it's pointless talk.

- You're a selfish monster.
- And you're a monstrum eruditionis.

Bugger off!

Out!

Hi.

- Hi!
- Hello, Miss.

Come closer, we won't bite!

- What's this?
- Boney M.

Too many to the left.

Decebal, get on this side.

No, you'll ruin the opening setup.

Our reenactments
always worked out great.

- Ask Traian, we...
- I understand.

But I'm the director,
you have to keep with my vision.

Whether you like it or not.

This isn't a battle.

It's the blowing-up of
the Romanian headquarters,

Odessa, October 1941.

We can't afford
the risk of confusions.

Are we collaborators or slaves?

What's gotten into you?

You collaborate with me as actors.

According to my stage direction.

- That's not slavery.
- We're no actors.

In this situation, you are.

Just not professionals.

The extras, too.

You're all actors to me.
Even the brass band.

If you don't like it,
leave and take the consequences.

I will!
Besides, this isn't directing.

Now you're teaching me?

- Yes
- Cut it out!

Reenactments mean extreme realism!

Extraordinary!

This isn't a military reenactment.

I'm making a show using reenactment.

Subversively!

And don't make me laugh!

Wow, extreme realism!

War is death.
I haven't seen you dying.

- It wasn't...
- Let me finish!

What do you reenact?
Weapons, uniforms?

You think that's realism?

You want the essence of war,
show me death, mutilation!

You're like those idiots on TV

impersonating Hemingway
with his beard and drinking,

but not his writing!

Or him blowing his brains off!

- The stuff that defines Hemingway!
- Or Elvis!

The map isn't the territory!

All this is very anti-Romanian.

- Shut it, negationist!
- Fuck off!

It's not anti-Romanian.
It's facing our own history.

We'll do it her way.
We'll get more projects.

We won't!
Not even the National Day parade!

Yes we will.

Wittgenstein says speaking
about propositions p and non-p

is the same as
speaking of proposition "p".

It will turn out fine.

That's why we wanted a director.

I didn't say I was out, bro!

But she should stop fucking with us!
And watch her Mick Jagger mouth!

I'm sorry.

- I'm quitting.
- Why?

- Can we still read Nae Ionescu?
- Read Mein Kampf for all I care!

Watch it, this street
bears the name of a hero!

Sometimes I get too angry.

Check this.

Cool.

- We'll need firefighters.
- Can't help it.

The things we do to please you!
Like puppies.

Show some dignity.

Sorry for earlier.

Don't worry.
You should see our fights.

Thank you.

You know why Napoleon went to war?

They say he took
red for green and viceversa.

The bloodier the fields,
the greener he saw them.

Too stupid!

A historian wrote it.

After all, why couldn't it be true?

Mr. Movilă, my respects!

If Mohammed
won't come to the mountain...

- Even in the rain!
- Hello, Sir.

Just making sure you don't do
some ISIS beheading stuff.

Let me introduce you.

- Constantin Movilă.
- Mariana.

- Mariana who?
- Marin.

The poet?

You're standing in the rain?

- Not so roughly.
- Of course, Miss.

Weren't the brownies in Transnistria?

Hey sweet tits,
wanna see my Marshal?

You could choose
another military event.

Or another period.

Dacians and Romans are in this year.

Do something about the Dacians!

About how they taught Romans
Greek philosophy.

Stoicism, beekeeping...

I'm joking, Miss.
I'm not a Daco-freak.

I want to discuss
a controversial subject.

To make people question
their preconceptions.

Many still think Romania
fought against Nazi Germany.

- And didn't it?
- After being its ally for 3 years.

Many think Romania had
no Holocaust and deported no Roma.

They learn history
from heroic books and films.

This is a political and educative endeavour.

Political? Do something
on Communist prisons.

They're political
and too little discussed.

We must educate youth.

Yes, but I'm doing something else.

We can do something
on Communism next.

I'm interested.

It's fine if you discuss Communist crimes.

Do you know why?

When we think of Communist crimes,
we think we're the victims.

Not, the guilty party,
not the executioners.

But with the 380,000 Jews
killed by Romanians,

we're with the perpetrators,
not the victims.

We are the executioners.

We? Who did we kill?

I'll turn myself in!

Brethren, tie me up!
Free Barabas!

I meant
our responsibility is...

- Collective.
- No, symbolic.

- If we are our luminaries - Enescu...
- Eliade, Cioran, Boldur the Swordbeast!

If we stake a claim
on their success and genius,

why not on the massacres?

380,000 precisely?

- Isn't it a bit much?
- Yes!

Maybe you miscounted them?
Or counted them twice?

Mr. Movilă, please.

Raul Hilberg said it:

after Nazi Germany,
we killed the most Jews.

We always come in second.

But I believe you.

Everything in my show is also
confirmed by the Wiesel Report.

Elie Wiesel?
More grief than talent.

And that report has a foreword
from three Romanian Presidents.

- Their function depended on it.
- They ratify it.

Willy-nilly, since we were
preparing to join the EU.

There were 18,500 victims
in Odessa only.

- Exaggerations.
- No.

Maybe including the deportees.

A Romanian general confirmed it at the trial.

Numbers are unimportant anyway.

Of course.

2,000 or 100, would be just as bad.

By the way,
how many make a massacre?

10 is too little.

100?

- Mariana, Mr. Basarab wants to quit.
- Give me a minute!

All my facts
are triple-checked.

I read all of Jean Ancel's works,

Raul Hilberg, Dennis Deletant,
Romanian historians...

The facts in the show are true.

They appear in the minutes
of Antonescu's Council of Ministers.

They thought they'd win the war.

Everything in the show
can be proven to be true.

You say "true"...
What is truth?

Just what Pilate said
when Jesus told him

"I am the way, the truth, and the life."

Maybe he was just as annoyed as you.

I wouldn't know, I'm a Taoist.

It's in the Gospel of John.

Whatever...

I was being more subtle.

Truth deals in propositions,
not in objects.

What is "true" in this
ridiculous reenactment?

Nothing.

Since you know the subject,
do something on the Crucifixion.

Romanians love Church stuff,
so City Hall would approve.

The Bible thumpers
would bring a lot of audience.

A bit retrograde and old,
but an audience nonetheless.

I don't enjoy your irony.

I won't lecture you on
the philosophy of history.

Nor on historic truth
or the coherence theory of truth.

That would be beside the point.

Do I detect irony in you,
Miss Saul Kripke?

- Aggression, too?
- No!

You treat me like an idiot.

Argument from authority,
referencing books...

I'll raise you Rorty and Thomas Kuhn.

Gică Hagi, too. How's that?

This is no argument from authority.

I was saying
I didn't make it all up.

I'm of a theoretical nature.
But I wasn't mocking you.

I'm of a theoretical nature too,
we match.

But don't bring up philosophy.

All I'm saying is you weren't there.

You don't know how
things stood in the war,

on the Eastern front.

And more pragmatically, Miss:

It may harm
the children in the audience.

- Why?
- Children get scared.

City Hall will get complaints.

Our account is stylized, theatrical.

And why would the representation of violence
make children violent?

Is this an exam?

It's such a cliche...
"Violent shows make children violent."

I agree.
They grow soft on XBOXes and crisps.

While others starve to death.

But historians, you know...

Something is "historical" because
hundreds of historians say so.

Though they all copied the same historian,

this one.

That's up to you to prove.

We're complicating things.

The very idea of military reenactment

is only to pay homage
to fallen heroes.

- Your project submission said so.
- That's what we're doing.

No, you're not.

It's supposed to be
about the soldiers.

Fair fights,
military honour, decorations,

"our heroic struggle",
all the trimmings.

You've included civilians.

Don't their innocent deaths
deserve at least a mention?

Yes, of course.

Go write a book.
A small one.

Or a little play.
Not a massive public event.

It's out of line and
in poor taste, Miss.

So your issue is aesthetics?

- Now you seek beauty?
- Toujours.

Dear cultural pundits,
come blow my trumpet!

I approved the project
to support artists.

- We've had such arguments...
- And you got scared?

The thing is:
I'm not narrow-minded.

But why shoot ourselves in the foot?

Just don't do anything scandalous.

Let's do something nice
to please the rabble.

To get applause at the end.

Not to outrage people
on taxpayers' money.

As for educating them...

That's an illusion.

A comical illusion.

It must be comfy,
being one of the good guys.

Meaning?

Sitting on the sofa,

denouncing the Odessa massacre?

Will this raise any dead?

How brave,
throwing shit at past generations!

- That's not the point.
- What, then?

Oh, "never again"!

Nunca más! As South Americans say.

But you stop one massacre,
and the next one appears.

It's like Laurel and Hardy
and the communicating vessels.

While you denounce
the 1941 Odessa massacre,

thousands are dying right now.

Syria, Boko Haram, ISIS...

Won't you denounce those?

I was thinking of a mysterious
Darwinism of massacres.

- Please, this is...
- Listen.

Darwinism, yes!

Only the fittest massacres survive
in the collective consciousness.

Ever heard of the German massacre
against the Herero, in 1904?

No. It was forgotten.

Like so many others.

But Odessa, now that's a massacre!

- Gold medal in the Massacre Olympics!
- No, it's quite anaemic.

- Will this stop further massacres?
- Of course not.

But I think reflection is important.

At least we Romanians could
stop being so full of ourselves.

Right. In times of peace.

If things go south
and these toys start running,

like this Skoda,
all your political art will vanish.

Didn't the others commit massacres?

In Dresden?
Not to mention Hiroshima.

Yes, but I see no connection.

But there is one, Miss.

If Papa Adolf had won the war,

you'd have done reenactments
in a soap dish.

Or they'd have been about
the bombing of Dresden or Hiroshima.

Nagasaki would have been forgotten,
being the second.

Nobody wrote Nagasaki, mon amour.

If they had, we'd have
pissed our pants laughing.

I'll just ask this:

drop the part about the civilians!

While I'm still asking.

Don't make me
use a forceful solution.

I almost said "the Final Solution".

Threats are not okay.

Want me to publicly
accuse you of censorship?

- You're threatening me.
- No.

Just saying what I'd do
for my project.

I understood your idiosyncrasies.

Nothing scary for children.
I promise.

After all, it's popular theatre.

The hard stuff will be
more gentle than I'd wish, okay?

Thank you.
That's all I wanted.

That we strike a deal.

- How about a coffee?
- I'm a bit busy.

We can talk massacres.

It's cool, like horror films.

I can tell you about the one
at the end of the Ming dynasty.

25 million dead, Miss,
not your 4 cannon and one Skoda.

So?

Maybe after the show.

May I have your number, then?

Of course.

0745...

Seriously?

342...

531.

The big numbers were the best.

I'd rather we didn't
talk massacres, though.

Anything you want.

Like haikus.
Want to hear one?

Sure.

"Light the fire,
I will show you something pretty:"

"A big snowball."

The syllable count is all wrong.

I'm off, we're busy.
Goodbye.

"Tu n'as rien vu à Odessa!"

Who else was with you?

Prof. Rarincescu...

- Who's the wanker?
- Alexianu, Governor of Transnistria in '41.

The local butcher.

I was not involved.

I was not in Odessa.
I found out two days later.

- When did the massacre take place?
- On October 23rd and 24th.

In October
you were already Governor.

Odessa was not...

Rewind, please.

- So this is from '45?
- No, the trial was in '46.

Here.

I was not involved.

I was not in Odessa.
I found out two days later.

- When did the massacre take place?
- On October 23rd and 24th.

So nonchalant!

...you were already Governor.

Odessa was not...

But you governed all of Transnistria.

Odessa was not yet
under our civil administration.

What inquiries did you make
after the fact?

- None.
- Why?

I reported it to the Marshal,
as the records show.

He said
"what happened in Odessa happened..."

The Marshal claims
he wasn't informed until 1943.

- No. In the first Council of Ministers...
- November 13th, 1941.

Yes.

- What measures were taken?
- None.

- What's that one?
- A Mauser C96.

Maschinengewehr 131.

Do the Russian ones
sound different?

What?

- Do those sound different?
- Like Tchaikovsky and Wagner.

You need a sound montage.

The expressive frequencies
have to fill that big space.

Yes, but I'd like
weapons from that time.

But we need expressiveness too.

Any other sounds? Like yells?

- Such as?
- Like a crowd getting butchered.

Begging for mercy, groaning...

I have separate bits...

Sorry.

You naughty boy.

Dracula.

- What's that?
- A Reinhard Wiener filmed it.

Somewhere in Lithuania, also '41.

- You want to use it?
- I thought of it.

I could add sounds, but
it's not about Romanians nor Odessa.

- Anything with Romanians?
- No, I searched everywhere.

There may be something
in the Russian archives.

It's mentioned in the Marshal's trial.

Impressive, but I don't think
it's okay to use it.

True.

I'll just use photos from Odessa.

- In an interview to Gunther Gaus...
- Grass.

...in 1964, Hannah Arendt
described her reaction

upon learning the truth
about the camps:

"Before, we said:
One has enemies. That is natural."

"But this was different.
As if an abyss had opened."

"This ought not to have happened."

"It's not the number of victims,
it's the method,"

"the fabrication of corpses...
I don't need to go into that."

"This should not have happened."

"We cannot
reconcile ourselves with it."

"None of us ever can."

Every sentence is charged
with a meaning so awful

that the speaker
has to resort to phrases

halfway between euphemisms
and the unprecedented.

First, the curious,
repeated expression

"This should not have happened."

It appears to have
at least a resentful tone,

surprising from the author of
the most demystifying book on evil.

The impression grows
with the final words:

"We cannot reconcile ourselves with it.
None of us ever can."

(Resentment, Nietzsche said,
is born from the will's impossibility

to accept that something happened,

to reconcile itself to time's "so it was.")

Arendt identifies
what should not have happened

and nevertheless happened.

It is so appalling that,
having named it,

she acts as if reluctant or ashamed:

("I don't need to go into that",
"the fabrication of corpses.")

Extermination as fabrication
by "conveyor belt" (am laufenden Band)

was first named so by
a physician of the SS, F. Entress.

It has been repeated
countless times, often out of context.

That only applies to Germany, though.

This industrial thing.

Sometimes, in that dazed state
right after sleep,

I try to imagine
death in a gas chamber.

Or by gunshot.
Or by hanging, or burning alive.

What do you feel then?

What do you think about
when the flames start burning you?

Maybe it's a stupid thought.

It's the same as any death.

Although...

A simple death is easier to imagine.

Of old age.
Dying in your sleep...

- Are you sleeping?
- No.

Hands behind your head!

Get moving!

Go back!

Hey, kids.

Hold your hands halfway up.

Like in that photo
from the Warsaw ghetto.

"Suffer little children,
to come unto me!"

See, kiddies, like this.

- Can you try?
- Yes.

- You're not doing it right.
- Yes I am!

Hey, that's up to me.

You're awesome!
We'll collect our pensions from you!

Cipher telegram no. 563
for General Macici.

Marshal Antonescu orders
retaliation by the execution

of all Bessarabian Jews in Odessa...

Might we interrupt, Ms. Ceaușescu?

Please.
How are you taking the heat?

- Not too good.
- We're almost done.

We understand your idea, but...

We spoke with some of the civilians...

Some of us aren't pleased.

- You brought in Gypsies.
- So?

You mixed us dirt...
I mean Jews, with the crows.

They were part of the Holocaust.
Victims of the Antoneseian policy.

I can't leave them out.

And they're only here symbolically,
playing Jews.

Yes, but...

Didn't whites play blacks in The Birth of a Nation?

Well...

I'm not too good with history.
I'm from a small village.

And you don't know a thing
about the Romanian peasant.

We won't mingle with Gypsies!

That's stupid. It's racism.

You do realise you're being racist.

We have nothing against them.
My best friend was a Gypsy.

But we'd prefer it if
they were separated.

Make a scene just with them.
It will be clearer, too.

Please respect my vision
and stay within your limits.

There are others who don't like this.

...artists, writers and musicians
came patriotically.

They brought solace and
good spirits to the wounded.

Poor buggers.

Hard to imagine them
committing atrocities.

I agree.

At least some.
I doubt they killed anyone.

You think the authors
of the massacres look any different?

- Some have that savage look.
- Bullshit.

I don't think so either.
Except for psychotics.

Hitler had fanaticism in his eyes.

Particularly when he roared.

- Kiss my swastika.
- Heil Hitler!

Hitler's eyes, maybe.
But not Eichmann's or Antonescu's.

I think Antonescu was
just an idiot, not a fanatic.

Nothing shows in the eyes.

It's like that schoolboy theory

about recognizing virgins
by the look of their cunt in jeans.

- I know that one.
- Show us.

The one on the left
is definitely a beast.

No way!
And what do looks prove?

That some are more evil.

This guy?

- A beast indeed.
- He is!

Lombrosianism is long dead.

Not true! Political correctness
makes us say that.

- That one looks cute.
- The murderer?

- Why is he a murderer?
- Look at his face!

Goebbels! Spear!

Speer, the architect, you moron!

That bandaged head
is a complete turn-off.

I'd rather die alone.

Maybe he's a good fuck,
with that stump.

He does look stupid.
Idiots can kill without hating.

Just technically.

The country wants you
either healthy or dead.

That gets you laurels,
unlike being mutilated.

Drinking again, uncle Vanya?

Ever seen a monument
for mutilated heroes?

Yes.

The Mighty Stump!

Those guys look so gay.

What if one of them
was your great-grandfather?

- Could be.
- Descendants of murderers.

- Guilt is individual, not inherited.
- I agree.

Maria has incestuous thoughts
about her great-grandfather!

Hot? No way, look at them.

Scrawny riffraff.

You'd have liked
some SA stormtroopers.

She's embarrassed!

I wouldn't say no.

Really, would you?

The German troops were handsome, elegant...

Not like these poor bastards.

Still, a gang-bang...

Zehntausend Mann!

It should be consensual.

As if they'd ask!

All armies rape.

To kill time.
Like the Reds in Berlin.

They stormed the housewives
and their honeypots.

Forget Goethe, Heidegger,
all that cultural marmalade!

Happy birthday!

Now you're stalking me?

We said we'd talk.

- But if you're busy...
- Talk about?

We'll talk after I get the show out.

Be patient.

- Please!
- Wait a minute.

My situation is...

Things at home are fragile.

I can't afford this chaos.

There's no chaos,
Mr. Cumulonimbus.

I haven't decided yet.

Well, I have.

I don't want this baby.
I can't destroy my family.

Why destroy it?

I'd raise it on my own, honey.

Its birth should be a joint decision.

Wrong. Read the law.

This is about law, not morals.
No, the other way around.

Long story short:
I haven't decided.

But if you don't want
to acknowledge it, I'll manage.

I won't tell anyone it's yours.

- Weren't you a feminist, pro-abortion?
- So?

- So abort it!
- That's up to me.

Just think of my feeling of guilt!

We both have time to think.

Let's each mind our own business.

You idiot, you...

"You idiot"?

- Sorry.
- Go home.

To your lovely Aryan kids.

- My apologies.
- Stick them up your ass!

I'm sorry.

- Forgive me!
- I hope your Pitot tubes get clogged!

Fucking bastard!

Do we quote
Mihai Antonescu, July 8th 1941?

- What?
- Mawashi geri!

The quote for the show.

Show no mercy!

Who knows when we will
get freedom of action again

for ethnic cleansing and national reform.

Use machine guns if needed.

I do not care if
we go down in history as barbarians.

The Roman Empire committed...

Shit!

I forgot about it.

- So you are epileptic?
- Yes.

- Isn't this risky for you?
- No.

"Gentlemen,
an Inspector-General is coming!"

How are the preparations going?

An American general
in the Gulf War said:

If everything goes well...

...you're in an ambush.

- I just want a word.
- Now?

If possible. And in private.

Alright.

You know what I saw
on one of your boys?

A Hugo Boss T-shirt!

- So?
- You have to ask?

Who made the SS uniforms?

The ones women swooned for?

Hugo Boss, Miss!

- "Let Eminescu be our judge!"
- "A lyrical summation of voivodes!"

The plan was for someone
from City Hall to hold a speech.

Fine, but no more than 5 minutes.

No, 3-4 at most.

I've explained that this is
a rather delicate reenactment.

- Again with that?
- No.

I supported you, they understood.

The only sensitive part is...

We really need to drop it.

It's not in the tradition of reenactments.

It's just your poetic license.

Hundreds of thousands of Jews
deported and killed by Romanian troops

are not poetic license.

I'm referring to style.
Besides, opinions differ.

They say only the Germans
exterminated Jews in the East.

The Einsatzgruppe D.
Not Romanians!

Read up!

The Germans had to
hold back the Romanians,

who executed Antonescu's
orders too quickly.

Eichmann himself was angry.
Ohlendorf reported that

incompetent Romanians killed Jews
faster than they could bury them.

Hannah Arendt says Romania was
Europe's most anti-Semitic country.

With fierce competition.

Mrs. Hannah Palyndrome exaggerates.

My show will only contain the idea.

Reality was far more gruesome,
impossible to represent.

Thousands were shot, hanged,
burnt alive, blown up.

Imagine bunches of 3-4 people
hanged on this bar.

Machine guns were red-hot from firing.

You've done your reading.

So you've also read about
soldiers who disobeyed orders

and fired into the air or defected.

True. Others cried and prayed,
but still killed.

I'm not describing the exceptions.

Spielberg made Schindler's List,
about a German saving Jews.

And he's swimming in Oscars.

How about the Mayor of Chernowitz,
who saved so many Jews?

- I don't care about Spielberg.
- But the Oscars...

He can make his Jurassic Park 5.

If I did that,
I'd change the meaning of the show.

In his diary, Mihail Sebastian says

Romanian troops on the Eastern front
could kill all the Jews they wanted.

Even an officer's chauffeur told him

he had killed a few, just like that.

The exceptions are very few,
even the Americans said so.

Americans?
A bunch of criminals.

Vietnam, the natives,
South American dictatorships...

I agree, I hate American policies.

But I won't back down.

Miss, I've had enough
of playing the Holy Censor.

Let's reach a compromise.

Show Jews escorted to camps
by Romanian troops.

And nothing else.

The rest we can imagine,
let's be subtle.

No way!

People can get their atrocities
from the Internet.

It's full of ISIS murders.

We don't have the right to be subtle.

Mariana, the first tank is here.
Hello.

- Hello.
- I'll be back.

Nice tattoos, Miss.

Can we move it around?

- Can we?
- We risk tearing the pavement.

- You want it moving?
- Yes.

What if it crushes someone?

Fine, we'll leave it here.

Really?
Who brought in a black dummy?

Put it away.

There weren't any Falasha
or Beta Israel in Odessa.

In short:

I can call off the event.

I'll go to the press.
ActiveWatch, human rights NGOs...

- You really want that?
- No!

But I'll go all the way for my projects.

Lucian Pintilie wanted to set
himself on fire when he was censored.

I'll fight to the death for this.

Company, charge!
Raise the nunca más flag!

Are you like this in private, too?

I wasn't born to be loved,
I accept that.

So you accept that
the event is canceled.

You won't compromise,
end of discussion.

I accept compromise,
not censorship.

Fortunately, this isn't the '50s,
and you're not a dictator.

Oh well.

The event is canceled.

I'll move the Boss
to the History Museum.

The Gold Thesaurus
doesn't bother anyone.

Ancient Gepids are safe.

I'll go to the press.
It might turn ugly.

Let's rehearse,
the contract is still on.

With our money!

Dear cultural pundits!

Now what, boys?

What's going on?

Even the participants here are angry.

I'm only here for the money.

I quit anyway.

You could have quit earlier,
you fascist.

Better late than never.

It doesn't matter, Miss.
It's all canceled.

Let's talk.

And someone...
the gentleman with Steinhardt?

Mr. Laiotă, please!

Tell the lady what you told me.

The writer Steinhardt was a Jew,
but not a sly Jew.

He praises Marshal Antonescu.

I know, but Steinhardt isn't relevant.

He didn't want to bother the Church.

Which should be called:

the Romanian Orthodox Anti-Semitic-
Antonescian-Ceaușescian-Homophobic Church.

That's all it is.

And Steinhardt got his information
from Antonescu's henchmen.

Much as we like him,
he's not credible.

He knew for a fact Antonescu refused
Uncle Hitler's extermination programme.

He only asked for money and labour.

- The only one in Europe!
- A saint!

He's painted on a church wall!

He wouldn't kill a chicken!

He resisted, he and the Danes,
and the Bulgarians.

He's famous for not wanting
to kill a single Jew.

Your naïveté would be touching
if it didn't make my skin crawl.

It was the manipulated naïves
who committed those crimes.

Your Steinhardt also says
stupidity is a great sin.

- You're free to leave.
- I'm staying.

Antonescu did save the Jews.

It's okay, boss,
we're not all negationists.

The Jews in Wallachia
weren't deported, the King said so!

Saying Antonescu saved
the Romanian Jews

is like saying a man
who shoots 5 people out of 10

saved the other 5, because
he could have shot them.

Disgusting.

You like math?

Instead of playing Leni Riefenstahl,

you could have gotten
the Fields Medal in mathematics.

Maybe she likes geometry.
The triangle...

Say what?

Say it again, old pig,
and you're screwed!

That's one fierce woman!

Here's my two cents.
But don't hit me.

I can convince my boys
and let the idiots go.

We'll rehearse just the escorting,

but tomorrow we do the whole thing.

- Like Viennese Actionism?
- Except homegrown.

Good idea.

We've reached an agreement.

We'll just do the battle.

As for the Final Solution
on the Eastern front,

if I may call it so,
we'll just show the escorting.

- No massacre?
- No shooting or burning Jews alive.

We arrest and escort them.

- I want to see.
- In a moment.

Rehearsal!

- Are they the fascists?
- Yes.

Miss!

I found a little Hitlerjugend for you!

Ms. Mariana Marin
will tell us about Odessa.

Good day, Miss.

To the left!

- Good evening.
- Hello.

She is our Deputy Mayor.

- Pleased to meet you.
- No less.

- Less is fine too.
- I said "no less".

- Meaning just as much.
- I was joking.

I understand this is
about the Eastern front.

Interesting and unusual.

I hope you like it.

I showed Mrs. Deputy Mayor
the Gettysburg Battle reenactment.

They love their history,
short as it is.

Compared to our 2,000 years.

Short?
If you consider the American natives...

That's nothing.

- A coke, or a burger?
- I'd like that.

Have a seat.

- All good?
- Yes.

- Hope for the best.
- I'm getting the jitters.

Chill, go have a soda.

Or some popcorn.

Fuck you!

We Romanians have never
led wars of conquest.

We've only defended
"our poverty, our hardships, our kind",

in the words of Mihail Eminescu.

Some wars are just.

Let us remember
the suffering of soldiers

who fought and died
for their country,

so that we can have soda
and ice cream, watch a show,

and raise our children in peace.

There is a cure
for the deepest wounds.

It is love.

Enjoy the evening.
Love and be loved!

THE BIRTH OF A NATION

Fuck you, Russians!

The drum beats, godspeed, brave Romanians!
The knapsack on our back, the weapons ready!

Sunny or cloudy, rainy or snowy,
We march merrily!

The drum beats, godspeed, brave Romanians!
God is our brother, we carry Him in our hearts!

Let the flag shine, for it we live,
Let the country flourish, for the Cross we die!

The drum beats. Godspeed, brave Romanians!
We march together, hurray!

Let the flag shine, for it we live,
Let the country flourish, for it we die!

Halt!

Fall in!

Prayer attention!

Never forget
you serve the Romanian nation.

Dirty Jews must be crushed!

It's our forebears who command us.

Our national poet,
Mihai Eminescu, said:

Under our country's sun
They teach Jewish to our sons,

Dirty Jews crush our pride,
How long shall we abide?

Our great author Ioan Slavici
wrote about dirty Jews:

All we must do is close the borders,

and drown them all in the Danube.

Let's extinguish their race!

True!

Dr. Paulescu asks us all...

Hey, young ones,
who is Dr. Paulescu?

The insulin guy!

Yes, bravo!
He invented insulin!

But foreigners won't admit it,
fucking pieces of shit!

And Dr. Paulescu says:

Couldn't we exterminate them
like cockroaches?

It would be the easiest way
to get rid of them.

And the Patriarch of our
Holy Church teaches us:

To not react against Jews
is to doom ourselves.

Defense is our patriotic duty,
not anti-Semitism!

God bless the Romanian army!

Resume!

For salute, present arms!

- Good evening!
- Good evening, Marshal!

Soldiers, I order:

Cross the Prut river!

Crush the enemy
to the East and North!

Break the Bolshevik chains
and free our brothers!

Give back to our country
the ancient lands

of our proud Bessarabia and Bukovina!

You will fight shoulder to shoulder
and soul to soul

with the world's most glorious army.

Show your bravery
to your fellow fighters!

They fight on Moldovan land
for our borders and world justice.

Be worthy of your role in History,

of the Third Reich Army and
its mighty Leader Adolf Hitler!

Vivat!

Left face!

By the centre, double time!

Over the Prut the war has started,
Romanians cross it strong-hearted,

Weapons in hand, to take back again
The lands that were stolen from them.

To the Bessarabian plain we go,

Where love and rich crops grow!

Company, halt!

Order arms!

Go!

Letter to the
President of the Council of Ministers.

Inform the Minister of the Interior:
releasing the Jews was a mistake.

Rich or poor,
they are extremely dangerous.

They undermine our economy
and most of all our morale.

Those returned from Bessarabia
are growing cheeky.

Our soldiers are at deadly risk
because of Jewish Commissars,

who diabolically push
the Russians at gunpoint

to die to the last man.

I am revolted.
Remedy the situation!

Round up all Jews back in camps!

Preferably in Bessarabia, from which
I will push them into Transnistria,

as soon as current concerns allow.

Let everyone know we fight
not the Slavs, but the Jews!

To the death!

If we win, the world will be purified.
If they win, we will be their slaves.

In Tiraspol,
Jews were carried in Roman litters.

Our Bessarabians were their slaves.

Sparing them in our country
is a potentially fatal weakness.

In the cellars of their Secret Police,
piles of bodies were found.

They are mostly wretched Bessarabians
who for the past 20 years

fought more for themselves
than for Romania.

God punished them beyond measure.

The same awaits us
if we do not win!

To win, we must remain firm.
This beast cannot be tamed!

The whole war, particularly
the fights in Odessa,

have proven that Satan is the Jew!

He alone drives the Slavs like cattle
to die with their last bullet!

This causes us enormous losses.

Without Jews,
we will get Odessa!

Faster!

Victory!

Long live Marshal Antonescu!

Cipher telegram no. 563
to Gen. Macici:

Marshal Antonescu
orders retaliation by:

1. The execution of all
Bessarabian Jews in Odessa.

2. Everyone included in Order 3161
of October 23rd 1941

and not yet executed,
as well as any connected individuals,

will be put in a building which will be detonated.

This will be done on
the day we bury our dead.

3. This order will be
destroyed after reading.

Hands behind your head!

Everybody, down!

Give me this fucking shit!

Take my money, please!

I'll shoot you in the head,
you fucking scum!

- Catch them!
- They're running away!

Catch the dirty Jews!

Get back here, piece of shit!

Get down, scum!

THE RULE OF DIRTY JEWS
AND FOREIGNERS IS OVER

Get up!

- But at the rehearsal...
- Now we're doing it like this.

Shut up and do what he says.

- What's this?
- The Jews being escorted.

- Gianina, hi!
- Sorry, I just got here.

What happened to the Jews
in Odessa happened.

From now on I want order.

- Was the repression severe enough?
- Yes, Marshal.

Are you sure?

You are merciful with others,
but not with our Romanians.

It was very severe, Marshal.

I said to shoot
200 Jews for each of our dead

and 100 Jews for each injured man.
Was it done?

They were shot and hanged
in the streets of Odessa, Marshal.

Good.
I am responsible before History.

Let the American Jews
call me to account.

Jews must be shown no mercy.
If they could, they'd crush us.

Me, you, them.

I am convinced that,
if no Romanian kills me, no one will.

That's why I won't spare them.

Don't think they won't take revenge.

But before they can take revenge,
I'll finish them off!

I do this not for myself,
but for our Nation.

Antonescu was a murderer!

Bravo!

I was so scared they'd stop us.

Didn't it burn beautifully?

- Want to go for a drink?
- Sure.

It was horrible, they applauded
when the Jews burned.

- Not all.
- Most of them.

They weren't paying attention,
or didn't understand.

Fucking idiots.

But such complete lack of empathy...

It scared me.

Dosoftei pushed me, the little shit.

- He didn't mean to.
- Right.

They could be more careful!

- I'll come with you to the hospital.
- No need, thank you.

Get well soon!

- Thank you so much.
- If I knew, I wouldn't have come!

- Not for a million dollars!
- I'm sorry!

I'll call you and come visit
at the hospital.

Nunca más!

Never again, plus jamais ça,
nie wieder...

How do they say it in Arabic?
Probably "Death to Christians!"

- It was great, congratulations!
- Really?

I like little acts of
artistic naughtiness.

- I thought you'd mind.
- I did.

But that's the charm
of a well-behaved girl.

- Is it?
- Definitely!

I have something for you.

A gift!

Told you: Namibia, 1904,
the massacre of the Herero.

Maybe you can stage a show on it,
in the Gipsy slums here.

- Thank you.
- Quite welcome.

A glass of good wine?

I can't today.

- Tomorrow?
- Alright.

- Then I'll be out of town.
- On holiday?

- No, work.
- More massacres?

Dorohoi, Stânca Roznovanu...

Sétif, 1945 - the French, too...
Massacre, massacre!

- No, a play.
- Oh?

After a short story by Chekhov.

- Which one?
- In the Ravine. At OH MY.

- Oh my!
- It's the OH MY theatre.

I'll read it and
call you tomorrow, alright?

Yes.

- Have a nice evening.
- You too.

It was awesome!

Ioana, come here.