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A FILM INSPIRED BY THE TRUE STORY OF THE KSU MUSIC GROUP

SOME OF THE CHARACTERS AND EVENTS FROM THE LIFE OF THE GROUP'S FRONT MAN,

EUGENIUSZ “SICZKA” OLEJARCZYK, HAVE BEEN CREATED BY THE AUTHORS.

This life of ease is not anymore

Painted over with bondage

It's a time of cruelty and evil

We're kept in line by hounds

Sentenced to seven hundred

Seven hundred sixteen days!

Sentenced to seven hundred

Seven hundred sixteen days!

In this loony bin they tell us

This is how this KSU of yours ends.

No more demoralizing youths.

Demoralizing? How?

That's for the people's government to decide.

They beat the wimps and scream “yes, sir”!

THE LATE 1970S OF THE 20TH CENTURY,

POLAND IS SUBORDINATED TO THE SOVIET UNION

Dear comrades!

Today,

the 18th of September…

LATE 1970s USTRZYKI DOLNE, SOUTHEAST POLAND

…we can express our deepest gratitude

to the defender of world peace, the Soviet Union…

our gratitude for this war,

for liberation from the fascist yoke,

for allowing us to toil in patience,

erecting our new, socialist fatherland.

Erecting a new Poland,

modern Poland, Poland of great industry,

Poland of steel mills, of shipyards,

Poland we can be proud of!

World's ninth economic power!

This is quality…

You can't see shit in our dailies.

- Live in filth, die in filth… - Yeah, whatever.

We got our cheap wine.

Mate, that aunt of yours, she's got any more of this?

She's flying to Poland in two months. I'll ask, maybe she'll bring something.

Lads, living in Canada just so, eh?

Siczka, bring it!

Anyone?

- Burek? - No, I got mine.

Ptyś? Tomkas?

Me!

I got something else from the aunt.

Siczka, roll it.

Hey, it's those lads…

Imagine, wearing this to school?

They're from London.

That's the life, eh?

That's freedom. They live as they please.

Hide it.

Why are you here?

We're savoring mints.

Don't you try this on me.

Outside, go!

And whatever

the imperialists in London or Washington say…

all these nefarious stations like BBC

or Free Europe…

Let's not shy away from this,

there are some among us who listen to that.

Crap…

But we know…

- We know… - Yeah.

- London. - That it's to the Soviet Union

that we owe the lifting of the chain

of capitalist oppression from the shoulders of the tired masses.

Can I?

Here.

Olejarczyk!

Your task is the most serious.

Comrade Chairman called the headmaster personally.

Understood, Comrade Class Teacher…

Hear, hear! Don't be a smart-ass.

Good one…

Olejarczyk…

Shouldn't this read “Polish United Workers' Party”?

Oh, pardon.

Just a misprint…

So that's how you celebrate the 30th anniversary of PZPR.

Good.

You're staying after hours.

But, Mr. Headmaster, sir…

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

HONOR AND GLORY TO THE HEROIC… GRATEFUL CITIZENS OF USTRZYKI DOLNE

Hey, girls!

Wanna go to London?

We'll catch a bus!

Anarchy in the UK!

Come on, girls!

- Seriously? - Not our day.

- It was close. - Mere centimeters!

- Oh… millimeters! - Siczka, you going?

Come on.

Gieniu, I beg of you, I can't hear my own thoughts.

Sorry, Mom.

This is Radio Free Europe.

Today in London, a session of the Polish government in exile took place,

with member of the House of Lords Sir Edward Fulton in attendance.

The hymns of Britain and Poland were played.

Hey, brainiac, you alive?

Damn, it would be cool to make our own music, eh?

How so?

You play it, it's done, no?

Mate, why are you going to Sanok anyway?

Free Europe?

You wrote to Free Europe?! You guys nuts?!

Easy.

I'll give it to my aunt, she's flying back to Canada, send it from there.

- No one will know. - Mate, back to Canada.

Neat, plane goes boom and back home by nightfall?

Yeah, but it's Free Europe.

It's forbidden.

They got American bases,

it's West Germany… they'll have us all in the pen.

Easy, we signed it “Girls from Ustrzyki.”

- “Girls…” - What, I shouldn't go?

"Dear editors of Free Europe,

we're writing from Bieszczady,

from a communist country oppressed by its own government,

where the radio doesn't play punk music,

and that's the music we like most.

You can hear it's made in a free country by free, young people…"

This is idiot music.

Real music, you know, you feel it here.

Where, in your stomach?

- You feed on it? - Well, a bit.

And what's not idiot music?

Wanna hear?

- No, no, I won't go to your home to… - What home?

C'mon…

Kasia, right?

Hi!

Hi.

Lads, this is Kasia.

Burek, Ptysiu and Bohun.

Sit, sit!

I thought you were playing for real.

You look like… I dunno, like a band or something.

That's 'cause…

we play. A bit…

This music, it's weird.

I've never heard anything like it.

Punk rock.

Real freedom. No one can tell you what to do,

you do what you like.

Happy people.

Happy, but also crazy,

- angry, screaming… - Yes, that's the point.

When they're angry, they can scream.

And here, in our country, where can you scream?

All you can do is whisper.

Right,

I'm off to bed…

Good night.

Good night.

Comrades, we're perfectly aware of the difficulties.

We emphasized in the political bureau's paper

that in spite of great efforts,

our economy continues to fail

to provide to all Poles…

Even though we are still catching up to the major car brands,

we have our own reasons to feel pride.

Already one in every six Polish families can boast

four wheels of their own.

Polish producers can also offer a true rarity--

Polonez.

Queue! There's a queue!

- We all need to eat. - Back of the line.

Mom's been hunting for some smoked neck for three days.

Or at least ham sausage.

Smoked neck, ham sausage…

Fuck.

I made you something.

Nice.

I'm not sure if that's what you listen to.

How long?

Music means everything to me.

Give it a spin and all of it suddenly…

All what?

All this crap,

school, police, neck, ham.

- No wares today. - How's that?!

You're missing an inspection!

So, that seems to be that.

I gotta get back.

- Hi. - Hey.

What will you have?

One full.

Here.

Listen.

We look like the Pistols. We're fucked up like the Pistols.

Maybe we should play?

Punk rock is simple.

You know three chords, you got a band, yeah?

Do you know three chords?

Gents, let's just play.

Maybe two chords are fine to start with?

Or fucking one.

Was it supposed to be like that?

Did you change it?

Was it supposed to look like this?

You know, you won't find a wife wearing this.

What now?

Now?

I want to make music.

And then what? Is that it?

Why?

Don't rush it.

Skip this class.

We're set for tomorrow.

- See you. - Bye.

‘Scuse me!

Which way is Lesko?

Straight ahead like a fist to the face.

Thanks.

Ooooh… nice!

Gentlemen, gentlemen.

I only have one thing to say.

This isn't a pigsty, but a woodworking combine.

So you should be, what? Well-behaved.

The slightest quarrel, a single complaint,

- God forbid, the police, anything… - Nah, why the police?

- Easy. - Sure.

We got it.

Fine, so what now?

'Cause I can't play shit on this.

Have you tried?

- Actually, no. - So how do you know?

Easy, none of us can play.

Other than Ptyś and Siczka.

Right, where's Siczka?

Siczka.

This band makes no sense without you.

Bieszczady, aaah!

Ustrzyki!

Punk… punk rock!

Bieszczady!

Punk rock!

Hey, lads, stop!

Ptyś, you used to plonk on that piano, no?

Well, yeah, mate, just not punk rock.

That don't matter, play what you know.

Ptyś, you fucked up or what? What was that?

Für Elise by Beethoven.

Thank you to the girls from Ustrzyki.

- Especially for you, Radio Free Europe… - Lads! Lads…

They're talking about Ustrzyki on the radio!

…we decided to create a half-hour daily program with punk rock music.

For starters,

listen to Sex Pistols and “God Save The Queen.”

Mate! Fuck me, Broda, did you hear?

- We're famous! - Fuck me, lads!

Everything's possible after all!

Everything!

Fuck off! Leave me alone!

They really tore them off you?

No, they fucking undid themselves and walked away.

Fucking pigs.

Easy…

I got new ones.

But… oh, no!

Oh, fuck off, Ptyś, yuck!

Bohun!

- What's up? - Well… it ain't good.

We need time, he has to practice.

That's good. We got the booze, we got the muse.

You forgot about love.

Fuck love, let's play.

- Fuck me, that's got sound! - Right?

We should play our own stuff.

- Who's gonna write that? - What do you mean who?! Us!

- I got all of that in my head, but… - But what?

Well, exactly, I'm not sure…

Halt! Police!

- C'mon, policeman… - Out-of-town plates, he ain't stopping.

Hey!

But if we want

to start a band,

we gotta have a name.

What's a band with no name?

Maybe ”Tryzub”?

Fuck Tryzub.

Maybe call it “Bandera” and be done with it?

Alright, alright… Free Republic of Bieszczady!

- Wait up… - RB!

Sex Jabols!

Hey! Stop!

Didn't I tell you?

Birds of a feather!

- G'day! - Morning, can we?

Can we hop along with you?

- Me on the floor? - Pack it in.

There's a bunch of us, chief.

Sonny…

Sonny…

these gentlemen are looking for you.

How's it going, “girl from Ustrzyki”?

Whose idea was it to write this letter?

You seeing this?

It's Ustrzyki Dolne.

It's where we live.

And what's beyond?

- Mountains? - Mountains, good.

And beyond the mountains?

- Ukrainians? - Ukrainians, my ass.

The Soviet Union. Understand, thicko?

Ten kilometers away, it's the Soviet Union.

And what is the Soviet Union like?

Big and red?

Invincible.

The Soviet Union is invincible and will never die.

It will last 300 years.

You will die and it will live.

So, there's going to be no playacting opposition,

no fucking rock 'n' roll,

no sending letters

to enemy radio stations.

You won't do shit

unless I agree.

That clear?

You shouldn't have talked so much.

We needed interrogations like a sore ass.

You'll see, they'll give us the runaround now for months on end.

Fuck they can do, you'll see.

I'm not so sure they can't do fuck.

Siczka's right.

- They'll play scary, then take off. - I'm not sure.

Captain Majak looks like shit that sticks.

Exactly.

Auditions for the Soldier Song Festival have started.

Each year, the event's attracting more viewers, also in front of TV sets.

We'll see promising newcomers, some with their own songs,

others will perform everyone's favorite hits.

So what will you do?

You got a melody

stuck in your head.

You practice, practice,

practice, practice.

And then…

and then you have a song.

But, you know,

sounds aren't the whole thing.

There's also… shapes…

Siczka!

Don't you want a home?

Kids?

Home? What home?

You've gone under again?

Boozing?

Sorry, Dad, it's the last time.

- What's this? - Listen.

Right, give it.

Mate, where did you get that?

What, stunned, eh?

That's mine.

- And? - Mate, you're killer!

Burek, what's up? We've got us a song, man!

Yeah, song.

Got any lyrics? Or do I just howl like a fucking wolf?

Hey, gang.

We've got literally loads of fans.

It's like a fucking epidemic.

Sorry, one more time.

Huh, when do we come here?

- Exactly. - Right!

Let's play.

You're laughing

Old age, no

Being young, no

Ambition, no

Laughing like an idiot

Laughing like an idiot

You're laughing

The truth, no

Chaos, no

Fiction, no

Can I get you to sign?

I can see rock bottom

I can see rock bottom

I can see rock bottom

- That's all you?! - Not me.

My esteemed bro.

What, all shook up?

No dick is gonna get in our way now.

What's with Konwicki?

I'm not there yet.

They say it's the talk of all Warsaw.

Are we ever going back there?

Something's moving upstairs.

Gierek is losing traction.

For now, shush…

Well, the sooner the better.

- Iwonka's about to go to high school. - Me? Who says so?

- What? - Joking, Dad.

“Don't knock your head

against the wall, get your hair all bloody.

Your nut cracks like a shell, there ain't nothing left.

You weren't born to look down on the crowd.

You're a little piece of nothing with a number in the files.

Go against the flow!”

Broda, this is the shit.

Knock your head

Knock your head against

Siczka, you can't go on like that.

You're here one moment, then you're not.

The fuck you know about what I do when I'm not?

What the fuck? So you're going solo now, right?

Bohun, I'll record alone instead of watching you play boss.

Punk rock regional manager…

- Boys… - Shut up!

- What? - It's a rehearsal, no?

- Why all the pushing? - Exactly, that's what I want to know.

- We play our own stuff and…? - And what?

- Dunno. - Anyway,

we should finally play a gig.

'Cause… yeah, what's the use?

In a normal country, we would.

For now, we need another room.

Another room

and another drummer.

Burek!

You're laughing…

How's things? Going good?

- Yeah, why? - No reason.

My dad says: no fees for today.

Catch him tomorrow and he'll give you the daily rates for using his stuff.

So much for playing.

BANKBOOK

When the old man sees it,

- he'll fuck you up. - Maybe he won't see it.

Time was 3:06

When the thing happened

Some pipe cracked, the shit flowed

Streets under sewage

No more funny business.

It's a subversive group.

They demoralize our youth.

Their impact is downright disastrous.

I have a daughter, so I know.

She's a kid now, but she'll grow up.

I sewed this myself.

I mean, not the whole thing, just the legend.

Iwona and Siczka.

Thanks.

We're starting Operation code name “Razor Blade.”

Evolution

In the sewers

Evolution

In the sewers

Evolution

In the sewers

"Official note for Captain Majak.

A subversive group operates in Ustrzyki Dolne

known as Pan Krok,

commonly referred to as KSU.

They play music no normal person understands.

Sympathizers of the group include numerous girls

that the group has an adverse effect on.

They are:

Iga Czarnecka, Magda Bilska, Barbara Cisło,

Iwona Majak.”

A new era comes

“With the aforementioned, Siczka performs…

sex

as well as numerous other

offensive acts typical of youthful

extramarital relations.”

POLICE

You fucked her?!

- She's underage, got it? - I don't know her.

One more time.

She is 14.

She's still a child.

If it turns out

you hurt her,

you're dead.

Fuck off.

Now! Go!

Look for illegal press,

leaflets, weapons,

drugs, fucking anything.

Whatever you find - on my desk.

Is that clear?

Right.

We'll get that Siczka.

You can put your clothes on.

Please, come in.

She's a virgin.

What do I do now?

School's over, go to work like everyone, no?

It's cool to play the guitar, but that's not a living.

- No? - No.

Ptysiu was right.

No gigs is bullshit.

Boozer punk

Boozer punk

Boozer punk

A way of life

Disperses crowds

For crisis, for rot

For chaos, for pain

When there's no way out

You're done screaming

Grab the bottle tight

And drink up

Boozer punk

- Boozer punk - Wait up, hold up.

How did that happen?

Chief went to the boss and the boss said yes.

He said yes?

They say the boss called a number and it turned out it's fine.

And when can we see you?

- Hear you? - We do rehearsals sometimes.

Ah, rehearsals. When's the next gig?

One condition. No posters or ads.

Fuck posters.

- Did that just happen? - Dunno.

- Nice. - Right?

Lads, just play this right, eh?

They say inmates are coming.

- My chief got them here. - For real?

- Yeah, for good behavior. - That's good. We have a song for them.

USTRZYKI DOLNE JUNE 14, 1980

Let's go.

They call him a thief

Everybody runs him down

That's the way he rolls

Catch this, grab that

He knows prison

Been there

But that don't change him none

He doesn't fear the bars

No need to steal

Something pulls him to the muck

When he's in a store

Sees it, grabs it

Thief!

Thief!

- Thief! - Thief!

- Thief! - Thief!

Thief!

Comrade Captain, what is this?

Why do we allow this to happen?

It seems things are about to change.

They call him a thief

Everybody runs him down

That's the way he rolls

Catch this, grab that

He knows prison, been there

But that don't change him none

He doesn't fear the bars

What are you doing here?

No need to steal

When he's in a store

Sees it, grabs it

Thief!

Thief!

Thief!

Thief!

- Hi, Siczka. - Hi.

Sign this?

- Oh… - Mhm.

What are you writing? “I was here”?

Well,

you were.

Can't recall.

Thought so, drunk.

Who are these bitches?

Bye.

Beautiful,

wonderful bitches.

Iga.

I saw it.

People heard my music and they literally blew their tops.

This is my destiny.

I'm pregnant.

Have it, then what's next?

We'll have to do something about it, I guess.

Raise it or something. Somehow.

So I'll raise it.

Or do we?

We'll take long walks.

We'll show it the mountains.

In the summer, when it's bigger,

we'll take it to the river.

We'll run across meadows.

Thief!

Play it again!

One more time! One more time!

Hey!

You're not listening.

We need to be responsible.

You need to.

What, I'm not?

You really don't want kids?

You're already the talk of Warsaw.

Here's something for you.

Straight from England.

Fuck me.

U.K. Subs, can't believe it.

I also have Tilt and Kryzys.

Alright, listen.

Play something, eh?

Something of your own.

We won't learn shit from this.

They don't tell us shit at the Central.

Gotta listen to Free Europe.

You're laughing

Old age, no

Being young, no

Ambition, no

Laughing like an idiot Laughing like an idiot

This is the fucking shit.

You don't just look the part,

in Warsaw there's no crew like yours at all, y'know?

Would you play in Kołobrzeg?

My insides burned out I'm cracking from the inside

Burns and scorches Pulls and pinches

Everyone's looking at me

There's still something left

At the bottom of the bottle

I scream though I can't scream

Nor can I drink anymore

Where's the sea?! I want to hop into the water!

My right side's all numb

The left will be so soon

My face is red and blue

Another louse is biting hard

My body feels so light

Head swimming, I'm almost out

My spirit's gone But the wreck remains

This is the price for deceit

The end

I lay all alone and pale

The end

A cross above my head

The end

What a horrible year

The end

And you're gonna be next And you're gonna be next

And you're all gonna be next Victims of the booze

Bohun…

- How far is it? - Fuck do I know.

Excuse me, miss,

which way to the amphitheater?

Oh, what's that, you're Polish?

Good morning.

Eh, Bohun.

Fucking Jan Matejko.

He could never do this.

Power's out.

Maybe you can play on that one?

Play punk on a grand piano?

You can do it!

- Sex Chopin, Chopin Punk! - Please, mate!

Where are you lot from?

Free Republic of Bieszczady.

Yeah? And where's that?

Straight up, left, cross the bridge, fuck knows how far ahead.

- Yeah, cool. - Hey!

Who are these blokes?

Tilt, Kryzys, Nocne Szczury,

Deadlock. The best this land has to offer.

Right, done?

Give me that.

Tilt and Kryzys, fuck me.

So what now, bugger off back home?

Tilt and Kryzys.

Hey, this yours?

Who did this?!

Calm down! KSU, easy!

I'll paint this on your head, fucking fag!

I'll fuck you up so bad, you'll be playing sideways!

Gents, all they're waiting for is a dustup.

Officially we only let in 100 people. Can't do more.

One fuckup and we're in the pits.

- You're still fucked! - Okay.

Just after the festival.

Come on.

Tomkas…

Alright, let's play.

Worst case, we fuck up.

This has been Nocne Szczury.

And now it's KSU from Ustrzyki Dolne.

KOŁOBRZEG AUGUST 9, 1980

Hey, people!

You're scared to leave

After dark

The day is fine

The night scares you

Avoid side streets

But you take the leap

Into the swamp of the big city

Its dark neons, and then

Drunken little fuck

Drunken little fuck

Drunken little fuck

Gets you on the face

Drunken little fuck

Drunken little fuck

A flash of razor

You're running without thinking

How this social problem began

A decent daddy, mom's fine, too

The son drinks

And then he also hits

Drunken little fuck

Drunken little fuck

Drunken little fuck

Gets you on the face

Drunken little fuck

Drunken little fuck

Drunken little fuck

A flash of razor

We conquered Kołobrzeg!

Like the Four fucking Horsemen!

Anything's possible!

Drunken little fuck Puke in his pocket

Drunken little fuck

Gone to the dogs

KSU! KSU!

KSU!

C'mon.

Ustrzyki?

How come?

- In Bieszczady? - Normal, y'know.

We sit in the mountains, the fucking wolves are howling.

And so do we.

We've got this bunker in the woods,

and when we're off,

we go there and throw grenades…

Plenty of grenades in Ustrzyki.

Hey, lads.

This is Peter from Germany.

- Hello! - The West kind!

What the fuck, say “grenade,”

a Kraut pops out.

We have a proposition.

I would like you and Tilt to publish a record in Germany.

You on one side, Tilt on the other.

Translate it, please.

He says you're great and he wants to publish a record.

Hello?

He wants you published. In real Germany,

not DDR. The Federal Republic.

Bundesrepublik Deutschland, ja?

You on one side, Tilt on the other.

So, what now?

He wants you out in the west, what do I tell him?

Heil Hitler to you?

What was that?

No, nothing, nicht.

I heard Kołobrzeg

went swimmingly.

So?

You should press on now.

A tour abroad,

maybe Hungary.

But I hear

you're short on good equipment.

Wouldn't you like something better?

I could help you there.

Our socialist fatherland

supports, let's say, folklore.

It's just…

that the fatherland needs support.

Gratitude.

Are you jerking off or what? They're right under our noses.

Yeah…

And your friends from Gdańsk, from Warsaw, when they come,

what do they say?

Siczka, don't get out of line.

I told you once already.

- The Soviet Union is… - Ten kilometers away.

- And will last…? - Three hundred years.

At least three hundred.

- And this Wałęsa will soon… - What's Wałęsa?

Never heard of a "Wałęsa.”

Hi.

I know already.

You're getting married.

- ‘Scuse me? - You're getting married.

That's news to me. But maybe you know better.

Magda got a banquet hall, a band.

Could you?

What's up?

We're gonna have a baby.

No,

you're all screwed up with these babies.

Siczka, where are you going?

Fuck me.

Get a grip.

I'm pregnant, too.

Iga. I want to play.

Do you know how cool it was in Kołobrzeg?

Iga!

Why now?

Mate, I'm supposed to play the keys?

Anyway, you saw in Kołobrzeg: punks don't play the keys.

Chopin fucking punk?

If you ask me, you can play any instrument so long as you're free.

Mate, maybe you're free 'cause you're the composer, but me?

Besides, when are we playing the next gig?

Are we gonna play at all?

Yeah, exactly.

Mate, either we set things up or we jerk off.

What time is it?! Where's Siczka and Tomkas?

Siczka's coming and Tomkas' setting up a disco.

Right.

Ptysiu's gone, and that lad plays DJ.

Count me out too, mate.

CONSCRIPTION LETTER

Fucking wonderful.

Great.

What's going on?

I got rid of it.

People like stones

DECEMBER 13, 1981 MARTIAL LAW

Faces cut from granite

Hands like automatons

Thoughts angry and vile

What now?

Papers!

What's this fucking demonstration about?

He didn't fucking say a word.

Shut your face when you speak to me.

Hey!

We're done with this circle jerk.

I warned you.

And?

And the shit hit the fan.

This is how this KSU of yours ends.

No more demoralizing youths.

Fuck off.

Do you know

that hairy roach

in jackboots and a uniform?

No?

You'll see him soon.

Reports from all over the country

indicate unambiguously

that the Polish People's Army goes above and beyond

to perform the duties assigned by the leadership.

Of special attention are the activities

the soldiers perform

to root out the hot spots of anarchy,

which the society shows general understanding for.

Tuptuś!

Hi!

- Back for long? - Two days.

Don't even ask me how much I paid.

Fuck…

Some fucker's gonna have me stand at attention,

tell me what to do,

crawl and shit on order.

Mate, I'm itching all over.

I paid the colonel, he gave me a deferment,

but I'm all out of cash.

Oh, nice.

- How much for that? - Well…

A month of deferment. It's as much as I can do.

Come back in a month.

Am I supposed to get this much liquor every month?

What did you think?

How's your drinking, eh?

Sit down.

It's not the end of the world.

Calm down.

I get passes from the army. We can play.

Did you play anything lately?

Tomkas left.

He gave up.

I can't reason with Bohun.

But you're keeping busy, I see.

Wanna hear?

You weren't born

To look down on the crowd

You're a little piece of nothing

With a number in the files

Go against the flow

Go against the flow Go against the flow!

And so on.

So, let's get going. Let's play.

We'll find a sub for Tomkas.

Alright, George.

You got the goods. You're a good fit.

Which one should we play? This one?

Or “Martwy Rok”?

Wolves and men

Siczka, what's the problem?

- I'll be right back. - Alright.

I understand all of it.

You enjoy playing music.

And I'm not a muse.

I'm a regular chick.

And I know.

You don't want any hang-ups.

Play. Write songs.

Do gigs.

Be free. Be with me.

I'm fine with that.

I'm not fine with it.

Hey, brother.

The daughter's here and you're asleep?

What do you mean,

it's mine?

Regional Court in Lesko, hearing the case from a suit by Eugeniusz Olejarczyk

against Magdalena Bilska

for the purpose of establishing paternity, decides:

plaintiff Olejarczyk

is not the father of the child

by Magdalena Bilska.

Please be seated.

Justification:

due to the result of a test

performed at the laboratory of the Medical Academy in Kraków…

Lads, this is Elizka, say hello.

- Bohun. - What the fuck, man?

We were supposed to start an hour ago.

I couldn't make it.

So maybe fuck three broads at a time, not eight.

- Hey! - You'll make it then.

- Bohun… fuck off forever, mate. - Wait till fuck you up.

- And? - Shit, I've had enough!

Lads, easy.

You're fucked up for good, y'know?

President of the fucking universe.

Go be a boss at the combine or join the police.

Fuck all that.

I'm leaving, I'm through with all this.

I'll do ten times as much alone than what I do with you.

Sure, fine. Do it.

I will.

Are we playing?

Siczka!

Siczka…

but what's happening now?

You can't be a punk in this country.

Iwonka, home.

Now.

Bye-bye.

People like stones

Faces cut from granite

Hands like automatons

Thoughts angry and vile

Days pass cruelly

And all hope's dying

No one's looking back

There is no more tomorrow

I could kill you, bitch.

Dead year

Another dead year

It's the dead year again

Another dead…

Thanks.

What's that?

Soon even the colonel won't help you, son.

- For order. - For order.

Mate, once you get the ticket,

you're screwed.

I'd rather hang myself.

Well, you can always go AWOL.

Yeah?

Then what, slammer? Even better.

Alright, I know a guy

who can get you a deferment.

The thing is, it's gonna hurt.

Harder.

Can't do it. The arm's too strong.

Highlander, eh?

Hit me.

Private Olejarczyk reports on duty.

Private, get down!

Private, get up!

They'll give you a gun

Tell you to stand in line

They'll tell you to load

And then to shoot

Not in your motherfucking pajamas?

It's five to six!

Get the fuck up, fucking cubs!

What's the time?! Six a.m.!

Orders, orders

We go on singing

Orders, orders Our flag is flying high

Unsteady rain

Ruffled the orchard

We've been fighting this war

Many, many years

- Krzychu. - What?

- Krzychu! - What's up?

Mate, what do you do to get out of this?

Play crazy.

Or cut yourself.

What's taking you so long?

Report!

The fuck!

Unconscious.

Good, so we don't need anesthetics. Here we go.

You'll live!

These hands have healing powers.

You're not running anywhere, kitty cat.

No way.

So, fucking slacker?

Private Olejarczyk. Report to officer.

But you're not really Olejarczyk, you're Siczka.

Kinda… I mean, yes, sir,

Comrade Lieutenant.

An artist, musician.

Yes, sir.

They've been up your ass a bit, eh?

'Cause our art is about getting asses in line.

So, have they been up your ass?

Lately? A bit less so, yes, sir.

Time flies,

as the artist Mickiewicz used to say.

My son knows you.

Went to your concert.

Alright.

Comrade Private.

We're forming a kind of…

musical platoon.

We got a…

bass player private and a…

drummer private.

You'll play with them.

Yes, sir.

A cranberry bush flowered in the forest

A cranberry bush flowered in the forest

Many a girl

Loved a soldier boy

Many a girl Loved a soldier boy!

Loved a soldier boy, liked him a lot

Loved a soldier boy, liked him a lot!

And scribbled these tender letters to him…

Oh, and we got a letter from Tuptuś.

I was just vacationing in Braniewo, I thought I'd drop by.

Daddy doesn't know.

How's he doing? Eased up a bit?

I think he's being moved to Rzeszów.

- To Rzeszów? - Mhm.

- Because of you. - How come?

For Operation Razor Blade, that's his reward.

He was hoping for Warsaw, but…

you know how it is.

It's better than Krosno.

Would you move to Rzeszów?

Girl, you're beautiful.

Siczka, no.

I have a boyfriend.

So what?

I know you'd be sleeping around.

And…

I know you can be punk all your life.

That's not what I want to be.

Siczka!

Go, the stage is waiting!

“And so it goes.

The town's there, the mountains are too.

Waiting for you to come back.

It's a pity we're not playing anymore, but what can you do?

I got myself a truly punk job.

I get back home dirty and angry.

Tomkas is…

he has nothing going.

Bohun left, has a band with lads from Łańcut.

He's on bass now.

I went to see them play. Cool crew, they're alright,

but not our style.

George.

George got a job at a community center.

And Broda?

You know what he's doing.

He's shitting out the lyrics to your songs and says

he's barely keeping up with you.

I admire you, mate.

I really do.

I hope you'll push through somehow.

Besides, year two in that shithole is all fun and games.

Or maybe boring.

Take care. Tuptuś.”

Alright, cubs, that's enough.

Report off duty.

Mister Reserve Officer, sir.

Three cubs reporting of having performed the christening of Poland.

Sentenced to seven hundred

Seven hundred sixteen days

Sentenced to seven hundred

Seven hundred sixteen days

One hundred forty-nine days until I'm off!

Bravo!

Sentenced to seven hundred

Seven hundred sixteen days

Sentenced to seven hundred

Seven hundred sixteen days

KATARZYNA SOLECKA

SHE LIVED FOR 18 YEARS DIED IN A TRAGIC ACCIDENT

Hi, Iga.

Hi.

You know, I…

think that…

you're, I dunno,

the best broad I ever met.

Iga, who is it?

Never mind.

Wrong apartment.

I can't.

Don't ever try to go against the flow

Don't try to look for reasons

Don't break out of line

'Cause you're nothing, nothing…

You weren't born…

DEDAL CLUB RZESZÓW, 1986

…To look down on the crowd

You're a little piece of nothing

With a number in the files

Go against the flow Go against the flow

Go against the flow Go against the flow

Go against the flow Go against the flow

Bravo! Bravo!

Very nice.

What is it? We're about to play.

It's been a long time.

I came by to show you I'm alive. That I'm doing fine.

Between us, you know,

there may be perestroika, Gorbachev, the Chernobyl fuckup…

But as I told you before,

the Soviet Union will last a hundred years.

Last time, you said three hundred.

I cut it down to 100 'cause I like you.

Mr. Majak, I really ought to thank you.

- For the military. - Oh.

I never came up with that many songs before.

That's all thanks to you.

And say hello to Iwonka!

Have a good show.

I'll drop by to listen.

Don't ever try to go against the flow

Don't try to look for reasons

Don't break out of line

'Cause you're nothing, nothing

Don't ever try to say no

Don't ever try to find a reason

An individual is nothing at all

And you're nothing, too

You weren't born

To look down on the crowd

You're a little piece of nothing

With a number in the files

Go against the flow Go against the flow!

KSU! KSU! KSU!

- Siczka, could you? - Of course.

Who for?

My name's Eugeniusz.

That's my name, too.

Great, and this is for my great-grandpa.

He's a fan, too. Same as Grandma.

Can you see them? They're back there.

Recognize them?

Grandpa always used to cover you from the commies.

He always believed in you!

He helped you compose the most.

Great, thanks.

FOR JERZY, 300 YEARS IN GOOD HEALTH SICZKA

IN 1988, KSU RECORDED ITS FIRST ALBUM.

THREE YEARS LATER, THE SOVIET UNION COLLAPSED.

UNTIL THE MAKING OF THIS FILM, KSU HAD PUBLISHED NINE ALBUMS.

…Don't ever try to say no

Don't ever try to find a reason

An individual is nothing at all

And you're nothing, too

You weren't born

To look down on the crowd

You're a little piece of nothing

With a number in the files

Go against the flow

Go against the flow

Never try to go against the wind

The fool won't ever win

So hide your face in the crowd

You won't jump higher Than your ass

Don't knock your head Against the wall

Get your hair all bloody

Your nut cracks like a shell

There ain't nothing left

You weren't born

To look down on the crowd

You're a little piece of nothing

With a number in the files

Go against the flow

Go against the flow

Go against the flow

Go against the flow

Subtitle translation by: Antoni Górny