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Bravo!

Bravo!

Emilia, Emilia!

I'm sorry.

I... I couldn't help it, I... I love the theater too much.

So you did it. Thank you.

Bravo!

You think it's brave to go out there and set yourself on fire like that?

A real feat, right?

So what do you suggest? Selling out the way you did?

OK, fine.

You don't care about the theater, about us - you don't give a damn.

But you... Think about yourself!

They could lock you up in the nuthouse!

And they definitely won't let you stay in the theater.

Do you at least understand that?

I'm not staying here.

So you're betraying us again.

EMILIA

Let's go, let's go.

Good, good. Emilia, careful.

Emilia, do you remember how we used to play theater?

So today we're going to play again, OK?

Do you remember when we were at the theater?

There were a lot of men there. And they all talked really loud, right?

Remember, it was even a little scary.

So now I really want to ask you to play the part of the bravest girl in the world

who's not afraid of anything at all.

You brave little girl. You little hero of mine.

Now I'm going to hide you. Don't be afraid of anything.

May 1972 Kaunas, Lithuania

Blame only the regime for my death. Romas Kalanta

Mom! Look!

You'll get your bath, and coffee, and cocoa.

You know, maybe a little bit.

A little bit? The guys say I'm the spitting image! I could act!

-Would you like to? -No way, what kind of job is that?

Raise your arm, lower your ass, raise your leg.

But this - the collective farm... now that's a job!

-Well I'm going to act in the theater. -Get out, seriously?

-Seriously. -I've never been to the theater.

-Never? -Uh-uh.

Then I'll invite you, definitely.

I think for the average Soviet man, the theater

But everything there is so exulting, so pure!

Yeah, pure - and there I am, with these dirty boots of mine, right?

I'll suffocate, oh, I'll suffocate. Those black walls crushed me.

Oh no, stop, stop, please don't!

Those black walls. The spirit of God does not exist in the world.

I can't hear you. I can't hear you.

I'll suffocate, oh, I'll suffocate. Those black...

Stop, stop, stop!

So you'll find that theater of yours?

Will you find your garage?

-Emilia... -Yes?

-Will you invite me to a show? -I'll think about it.

Take care!

Freedom for Lithuania! Freedom for Lithuania!...

Excuse me, let me through, let me through.

Hey, you're going in the wrong direction. Come with us.

-What? Where? -Come with us, it's more fun.

Just look around, everyone wants freedom.

-I have to go to the theater! -Where?

-To the theater! -What are you doing? Stop!

OK, let's go. To the farmstead, get moving.

Let's go!

-Hi Leon. -Hi.

Hold on... I have one of yesterday's for you.

-How many did we get yesterday? -Four hundred.

And where did they put them?

Eight are getting time, and they shaved the other hippies bald and let them go.

-Here. They gave one over to us. -Why?

They said it's your field, anti-Soviet literature.

Here, read it.

-What's his name? -Her name. Some actress.

What are you standing there for?

Sit down.

What's your name?

Emilia.

So, an actress.

I've been appointed. To the theater.

From the conservatory.

So you'll have to invite me to a show.

Sit down!

What is this, you've decided to try and scare me?

And in general

young lady, maybe there's something you want to tell me?

Let me go. To the theater.

Please.

Of course, this is no dormitory, but I understand

how hard it is these days to find a place to stay... wow.

So.

No roaming around the theater at night.

No monkey business, no boys, no drinking.

What happened to your face?

-I fell. -Hm.

This one's yours. This is for the stage door.

Thank you.

Rehearsal is at 10:00. Actors aren't late here.

Welcome.

Comrade Česlovas, this isn't just a table.

He's seating us here like apostles at the last supper

and hoping that we won't understand anything.

Or that we'll pretend that we don't understand!

So maybe he'll make us sing some religious hymn to finish it off?

This is an artistic solution. They're fanatics of their idea - apostles!

Right, apostles

I can smell that nationalistic underground of yours a kilometer away.

Kil-AH-meter.

A kil-AH-meter too!

Guys, come on.

Česlovas, all this over some stupid table

Yeah, really

This isn't about the table.

This is for Lithuania.

Excuse me.

They already brought the bones.

Come on, they're here!

Let's go

What's this now?

Hi, it's good you're here. I need some with more meat, with meat.

Yeah, yeah, that one. Give it to me, give it to me.

This is mine, mine. I got here first.

-How many did you take? -I was first and I need it.

Bones?

The Meat Combine takes care of us.

We give them a better play, and they give us better bones.

Have you settled in?

How is it?

I just expected it to be totally different...

The theater?

-It always seemed so... You know, so... -Magical.

There's nothing magic here.

-It's a quagmire. -The theater?

This whole damn system is a theater...

You're neither sobbing nor quarreling.

We're neither returning nor coming back.

As long as we have the road, we're moving forward.

As long as we have our hearing, we're listening to the song.

We all sang as well as we could. We all...

I want to welcome

the newest addition to our tight-knit family here at the theater

-the young artist... Elena? -Emilia.

Emilia!

Each person who has consecrated his life to the theater is, in truth

renouncing himself completely.

This is how he gives all of himself

to the playwrights, the directors, his partners and the audience.

And I have no doubt that our theater is the perfect cherry orchard, where

-Orchard - more like a collective farm. -A garden.

where the talent of a young artist can blossom.

So, my dear Emilia

I'm sure you will manage to feel at home with this group and this stage

and that you will one day shine brighter than some of our theater's veterans.

-I welcome you. -Thank you.

And now a word from the future living classic

future People's Artist of the USSR and the Lithuanian SSR - Emilia!

-Poem. -Poem, poem...

Poetry.

It is a hymn to the warriors and the unknown soldiers

who come to rape our mothers and sisters

To the temples of gods

whose altars have been exchanged for a fat stomach hundreds of times

It is a hymn to papa Caesar, whose lucid mind leads us into the bright distance

where we perch, free, behind bars

sucking the foul air into our chests as if it were the spirit of freedom

and feeding each other lies, and singing the hymn to the god of betrayal

who is soiled with the blood of white lambs!

Not bad. Just...

I didn't have time to do that then.

Rehearsal tomorrow

-is at nine. -Eleven, director.

Nine.

Bravo, bravo, bravo.

You know

whatever kind of ideas

he's trying to carry out, he doesn't have the right to break an actor's back.

An over-ambitious director, he stifles both the playwright's idea

Director?

Yes, director.

He stifles both the playwright's idea and the actor's talent.

Director.

So we actors

we have to stick together and resist this directorial despotism.

And you were great.

Way to go.

You got up and, how did it go

we're feeding each other lies, and singing the hymn to the god of betrayal.

By the way, who's the author?

I'm telling you,

they can access your papers, but

they never go and look themselves.

The authorities give the order...

And I bring it to them.

And your file, believe me...

there's a layer of dust that thick it's been lying there so long.

Don't get me wrong,

but maybe you have paranoia or something?

You could take a vacation, relax.

I'm serious.

Wait, maybe it's not our guys checking you out, huh?

Then I have no idea.

You have a cornflower in your hand, completely differently than after the war.

Wonderful times have come.

Pearls of dew are hanging in the forest.

From happiness, not a hangover,

You would drop into a flowery ley.

And above the native forest border,

A small breeze drives a cloud away.

All together now.

Join in.

-Not now. -Another verse.

You listen to a song that

scares a hare at the far end of the field, and you write perfect lines,

that you can shove wherever you want.

Comrade Aušra, excuse us please.

So it turns out you really are an actress.

So, what is it, what? I cannot understand

So many horrors surround us and so much senselessness.

Who gave this to you?

WHO?

My dad.

My dad wrote it.

And who might dad be?

An enemy of the people.

This is the last time I'm asking nicely.

Who...sent...you?

No one sent.

There is one step between a hero and a traitor.

-I'm not a traitor. -A simple question.

A simple... answer.

- No one sent me. I was sent here from the conservatory.

- Don't you try my patience!

-I... -Quiet!

-I don't... -Answer me, now!

-I don't know anything. -Simple and clear, or

-I don't know anything. -One.

No one sent me. I swear. I don't know anything.

Two.

I need the procedural room.

Bring Kostas in.

No one informed me.

I'm informing you, now.

Leon, but after last time I...

- Shhh...

- Leon.

A dark night in late autumn. Bearers of freedom settled there.

Bearers of freedom

He's a good poet. WAS.

The poems he wrote for children.

Only no one knows that in '49 he wrote songs for bandits in the forests.

Leon!

Leon!

Leon!

They arrested Cornflower, Leon. They tortured her!

Just look what the fear of death does to a person

You can't love the fatherland when you're rotting somewhere in the swamp.

- Please, don't.

We promised him a comfy life that every fucking Little Octobrist

would recite his poems.

But he betrayed everything. Every last person he knew.

He was a faithful dog. Just the alcohol.

His conscience woke up.

Look how heroes of the people die. Look!

Get out of here.

Go home, mother.

No!

Come on, pick him up!

So, are you going to keep playing the hero, or what?

You think I'll see this and shit my pants?

You think you're going to scare me?

I'm the one who does the scaring here. Got it?

This is all I have left of my family. I don't have anyone to betray.

I never have.

I... I don't have anything.

We all have someone to betray.

Alright, I see it's not funny. Hi there.

What's wrong?

Emil...

Right.

Is there anything I can... do?

I...

-You sit... -I'll wash them.

Come on. I...

It's fine, I'll do it myself.

I'm sorry. It's my... I'll wash them then.

Oh, right. OK.

-Could you not stare? -Oh, yeah... I can.

Wrath, vexation, you say. And love?

Love has come, perhaps for the first time, to those

those old blackened halls, where only spite and pain had built a nest before.

Now love has come.

We cried, like children from joy that first day when we were alone together.

I was looking for you and I found you.

I have been looking for you from the day I was born.

I wanted to challenge death.

But I summoned. With all my heart, I summoned life

I want to comprehend my incomprehensible fate.

Wait a minute. You wrote this?

-My dad wrote it. -And dad is...?

An enemy of the people.

Emilia...

Kristina!

Kristina! Wait... Wait up.

Kris. Kristina.

I just... stopped by.

Kristina...

Oh, Lithuania! Lithuania!

My love, punish me if there is even a drop of blood among the diamonds.

Save me if there is love shining for you in the diamonds.

Be free, oh Lithuania, for ever and ever. And be just and good to all!

So... what do you think?

While no one is talking, I'd like to ask a question, if that's alright.

Who stole the manure?

-What? -The manure.

I called the collective farm yesterday and

they said that they loaded a truck of manure for us.

So where's the truck?

Listen, we're talking about the play, about Lithuania.

Well we're talking about the manure.

He's right, it's time to fertilize the garden.

Hey, hey, so when did you sell your actor's soul?

And what did you get? That ration coupon for a washing machine?

You try washing shit-filled diapers every day with bloody knuckles,

I'd like to see that.

Come on everyone, just look what material we have.

Hold on, hold on.

What material?

This isn't material - this is... the devil only knows what this is.

A woman leading a revolution.

And against who - the Great Russian nation!

So what do you have against women, huh, Julius?

Jonas, you're the director. Say something already!

What, Julius? Against tsarist rule.

Against class inequality.

Emilia Plater. The first female revolutionary.

But yeah...

Obviously... the text is tricky.

Exactly, exactly. That's what I'm talking about.

Women!

A female revolutionary! Like Maryte Melnikaite.

And at the Ministry

it'll breeze right through.

Oh, I've got to go. Watch it now.

Before you came, we had everything.

We went on tour, we performed at the Kremlin.

They were going to let us take our plays abroad. To Poland.

What, were the plays any worse?

By the way, they have a good theater there.

-In Poland? -At the Kremlin.

You idiot.

They have a snack bar there where you can get bananas, and peas and mayonnaise.

I don't like mayonnaise.

Learn to make compromises. So it works for them and us. Understand?

No, Julius, I don't understand.

I am Severiutė from Užpaliai Village, Where the railway turns to the south,

Where along the tracks I walked barefoot,

Like a pregnant laundress driven out of the house...

Like the last one, at the big table set out There was no room for me

Behind my back, without me hearing, you talked, you talked,

Behind my back, without me hearing, you talked, you talked,

Behind my back, without me hearing, you talked, you talked.

I was not a sister to you, I just wove the linens.

I raised my third mute brother by myself.

I wept in the wooden bed of my dead father.

And did not blame you...

I walked through the frozen earth like through knives,

and plodded through the mud of the village.

I lived far from you, from Užpaliai Village, miles away,

At night of a small white-headed baby, white-headed baby

I would talk with the grass...

The little hunchback who died the year before last played the accordion for me

He said he would clothe me in beer and shoe me with a scythe,

He said he would clothe me in beer and shoe me with a scythe,

He said he would clothe me in beer and shoe me with a scythe...

No! No!

-Just give it a try. -I'm not wearing these rags.

These aren't rags.

These are costumes for the play - get used to them.

I said no.

Kristina, we already discussed what this play is about.

That this play is about us, about you, about me, about freedom.

About creative freedom that we don't have. And the freedom to be a person.

Yeah, well I also don't understand what that madhouse has to do with it?

Listen, she's leaving everything.

Her parents, her home, her privileges... you.

She's rounding up the men and going to war.

You see, she's sacrificing herself for freedom.

She's giving up her life.

And you - you take the shirt, well, like a dress.

A wedding dress - you see where I'm going with this?

And it's as if... it's like the death of freedom.

Like this?

And you know, I thought that maybe

maybe you can stick me in a box and make me read my lines from there?

There, you got it.

Do you understand that I am not a thing that you can stick in some box!

To read my lines from there!

I'm an actress, understand?

You can't shove an actor around like a pawn!

You're doing everything you can to kill the actor.

But I want to express my thoughts freely.

Without all those bells and whistles. And without a fuss.

So if these rags cover up your talent,

then maybe there isn't any talent there at all?

Go to hell with that talent of yours, got it?

I'm not playing this shit.

So don't!

You don't have to.

I don't think you even could!

What are you looking at? Rehearsal is over.

You can't act like this.

Don't tell me what I can and can't do!

I don't get it, what can't you do here?

What's the big deal? How can you go out in front of the audience

if you can't even tie a simple knot?

Tie it!

Come on.

You tie it, tie it. Come on, tie it!

-You can't? -Marius, easy.

-Why? -Calm down.

What for?

You can't!

You can't.

I can.

Excuse me, but where can I find Antanas?

What's this?

An invitation to the theater. I got a role.

Emilia, wait.

Kristina wrote Korsakas a complaint.

What?

Can you imagine, the bitch?

She wrote all kinds of stuff. That Marius is ruining the actor's talent

that his artistic decisions aren't in line with the spirit of the times

that he's putting on an anti-Soviet play.

How do you know that?

I overheard it. You know how she screams.

-So what's going to happen now? -I don't know.

But I'm afraid that she's not going to leave it at that.

So if anything happens, just say so, because we're all behind you.

Thanks.

Kids, buy some pastries, they're good and fresh, with cabbage or poppy seeds.

-Do you have any with meat? -With cabbage or poppy seeds.

-With cabbage. -With cabbage. And one with poppy seeds.

-Thank you. -Enjoy.

And come by tomorrow, we'll have some with meat.

OK!

Get up.

Say your lines.

Say your lines.

-Say them now. -What, sir, do you want?

It's just a little nothing. Let me in your blouse

Is that all?

I will open my heart to you, and the gates to freedom.

I don't need freedom if it is given to me by someone else's hand.

I don't need freedom if it is given to me by someone else's

So what do you see in this scene? Who do you see when you look at me?

What's going on in this scene?

We discussed this - Kablukov is your fiancé.

But he's scum.

You hate him, right?

You can't stand him.

His every touch, his every word, his every gesture.

He's pallid, fat, blemished.

He collapses on you every night with that big, white stomach

and smelly armpits. He licks you.

Think about a person you despise.

One specific person.

Unleash something. Get mad at yourself.

Someone from your most detestable nightmares.

When you wake up in the morning and can't wash it off.

You can't wash it off because he's sticky, slimy, clinging, like, like... a leech.

Like... like a tick embedded in your skin that you can't brush off

he just lurks inside every second like a disease, like pain, like... cancer.

Come on! Come on! Squeeze him out of yourself!

No!

You louse!

Give me the other one.

Poetry! It is a hymn to the warriors and the unknown soldiers

Who come to rape our mothers and sisters, leaving only blood and the seed of Satan

To the temples of gods

Whose altars have been exchanged for a fat stomach hundreds of times

It is a hymn to papa Caesar

to papa Caesar, whose lucid mind leads us into the bright distance

where we perch, free, behind bars sucking the foul air into our chests

as if it were the spirit of freedom

and feeding each other lies, and singing the hymn to the god of betrayal

who is soiled with the blood of white lambs.

Not bad.

It's the right direction.

I want to tell you a story about an actor.

There was this actor he wasn't bad, talented.

-The audience loved him... -I'm not saying anything.

I'm not asking you anything.

That actor got an assignment.

Like always - what to do, how to do it.

But you see, that actor decided to play the hero.

Suddenly, one day everyone remembered,

how those artists, poets, actors. They just keep killing themselves...

and

themselves.

There's going to be a play.

Based on this.

Who told you to?

It's going to be about the struggle of the working people against tsarist oppression.

You still don't understand who you're dealing with?

Here, you see this?

Now we have it, and suddenly, it's gone.

Emilia's gone.

-What, didn't your mom tell you? -I don't have a mom.

And I don't have a dad. I don't even remember what they look like.

I don't have anything.

Anything at all.

You're afraid of me.

YOU'RE afraid of me.

Of a little girl who you can't take anything away from because people like YOU

have already taken everything.

But you are such a whore.

Kristina, if...

Bitches in heat like you come here in throngs.

You think you just spread your legs and what?

A star.

Now Marius is screwing you, and then someone else will, and then someone else.

So go ahead and be that star.

For now.

Then someone younger will come along and they'll throw you out into the street.

That's the kind of career we have here, kid.

And when you give Marius... Just don't puke, OK?

What, hey, wait! What is this?!

To the right.

Left.

Coffee, cake.

You said you live alone.

This is Brunhilda!

Brunhilda, this is Emilia. Please be acquainted.

She's my dad's. He brought her home when they closed the university.

He said she's his second love.

-What does you mom think about that? -Mom was already dead.

My father planted these apple trees. I was just a little kid.

I learned how to prune them. It's actually about time I did.

Everything is overgrown. How overgrown everything is.

But after the harvest.

Marius, aren't you afraid?

Of what?

At the theater they're saying that we really went overboard this time

-that they might ban the play. -When have they ever said anything else?

When we have a drink after the play,

it's all "Marius, here at the theater we're like a family,

we're like a fist that can strike a blow against the system."

But when the time comes to do something, no one's there.

And then Korsakas is like, "Marius, you have to learn to make compromises."

I can't. I can't. I don't know how.

When they came for my father, they gave us a few minutes to say goodbye.

He kneeled down next to me and said,

"Son, now everyone's going to tell you that I'm a criminal,

an enemy of the people.

Everyone will lie. They'll lie shamelessly,

to the entire world. And the entire world will believe it.

But not you."

And then they took him away.

I never learned to live with a full stomach.

I never learned.

And you never will.

That's enough lying around.

Get up!

Now you're going to prove it to me. What, are you scared?

Darius! Darius!

Darius...

Help!

Those actors they just keep killing themselves

So what are you doing? What are you doing?

-What am I doing? -I'm asking you.

What are you doing, Leon?

We don't work like that.

We haven't worked like that in a long time.

It's not 1951. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?

You asked if they're digging stuff up on you, and well, my dear, they are.

And they're digging deep.

I don't know what you're up to, and to tell you the truth, I don't want to know.

If you're drowning, then drown on your own. Got it? On your own.

You shouldn't have strung that kid up.

And you know what the most important thing is in all this?

To stay alive.

To survive.

They always let us in to watch the dress rehearsal.

Madam, you misunderstood.

Go look for those madams of yours in America.

-Ma'am, can students get in? -No! The authorities said no.

So what kind of authorities are they? Afraid of the voice of the people?

Madam, we're not afraid of authorities like that.

Not afraid...

When you freeze your rear end off in Siberia, then you'll be afraid.

They're not afraid...

They're not letting people in the theater.

They're afraid that people will find out what they're banning.

Did you see?

-Did you see who came to the rehearsal? -Who?

I guarantee it - they're going to ban our play.

Julius,

what are you worried about? You're a communist - nothing will happen to you.

You can always say that I threatened you, that you had no choice.

And a drunken soldier brought a girl to the stable

where his friends were making merry

and gave her vodka all night, until sunrise.

The earth filled with terrible guilt

Moonflowers, stinging nettle and creeping thistles sprouted up in an ugly place

And the girl lay there,

no longer calling on God for help

And the people didn't see her for three days and three nights

First you will destroy love, because that is the connection that is hardest to break

And after renouncing your friends and family loving no one

and detesting everything

-So, are you ready? -My stomach is full of butterflies.

Butterflies?

Butterflies are good Cockroaches would be bad, but butterflies are good.

Emilia, you're on.

You will go to look for a place for your grave, the beginning of true life

Emilia

Emilia

Emilia

I have come to greet you, as your betrothed

I know you have not yet made a vow to me

but you are already able to accept my gifts.

From overseas?

And what is wrong with your own village, which is not adorned by foreign beauty

Where plain rue nestles to the ground, and intoxicates our hearts oh, so sweetly

Can a gift take the place of a beating heart?

I will drink water from my own well"

So.

The director has shown all of his visions.

Indeed, we have a remarkably artistic picture

of the struggle of the people against tsarism.

Go ahead, comrades. Please.

Well.

I would like to say that I liked the play.

But I did not like the performance at all.

Yes, but we all have to admit that this is a working version.

Maybe I could see a few small mistakes too

But you have to agree that

Well, we can always revise it.

We can always adjust something, solve the nuances, problems.

And what am I supposed to make of the excessive use of blood in the play?

Especially when the blood is not being portrayed as that of a sacrifice.

It is the symbol not of blood that was shed in the fight for something

but of senseless cruelty.

Crime.

And for some reason,

this crime is directly identified with the red flag of communism.

Comrade Korsakas, I want to ask you,

In the name of what is this play being staged, huh?

We have to educate the people according to the concept of internationalism, correct?

And what is this?

This is... This is blatant nationalism.

Comrade Šimkus, you're exaggerating. Exaggerating!

Yes, you would have to be completely blind

and deaf to not understand what the play is about.

In my opinion that is, in our opinion

this is clearly the unenviable work of a young, ideologically immature

artist who is still completely undeveloped in terms of creativity

One who has obviously succumbed to the influence

of anti-Soviets and various dissidents.

So what's the point of this whole carnival?

You condemned everything. In advance

Those artists are sensitive. Let's forgive him for losing his temper like that.

I can change a few scenes. I can... I can revise some nuances.

That's exactly what I'm saying, Marius!

See, I can feel that we're about to reach a compromise.

That compromise, it's haunting me. Compromise, Communist, Komsomol...

Are they going to ban the play?

-Komsorg, Kom... -Marius, yes, yes.

We'll make a compromise.

We?

We.

We!

We already strangled this whole thing.

We!

We killed this entire business. We killed the truth.

We made ourselves some stupid hunting trophy out of it and call it the truth.

When in fact, we're living every day, every second, in some sort of lie.

He's going to get burned, honest to God.

-Compromise! -He's going to get burned.

Compromise!

This entire society has rotted because of this whole compromise.

We're soaking in this swamp, and what's keeping it going?

No, not the belief in a bright tomorrow, not going to church... no,

not the army or security forces.

No! It's every decent Lithuanian's fear of losing his cracked trough!

And what has all this made us?

Traitors. We betrayed Lithuania.

They laid their heads to rest in the forest, and we betrayed them.

You and I.

Take that off.

Take that off, you'll freeze.

Love has come perhaps for the first time to those old blackened halls.

Don't go.

Marius, please don't go.

Marius, I'm begging you.

They didn't give me a choice.

-This is my fault. -No, it's not.

I want to tell you

You know what they said to me? They look me right in the eyes and say

Don't you feel a sense of despair, meaninglessness?

Don't you think about suicide sometimes? After all, you artists, you're always.

They threaten you. They're cowards - they're more afraid than we are.

What's going to happen now?

I'm not going to fell the Taiga.

To Siberia.

There's a theater there.

To exile.

Don't be dramatic - people have come back from there too.

A handful.

I'll come back.

I promise.

Hurry up, we're about to go.

You wanted to run away without saying goodbye.

This is like a business trip.

What are you lying to me for?

-Passenger, are you coming? -Yes. Just a moment...

Take care of Emilia.

Which one?

Both, take care of them both.

What the...?

Read it out loud, so everyone can hear.

Soviet Lithuania is going through a period of acute class struggle.

Our theater is harboring activities of bourgeois and nationalist elements

directed against the consolidation of the Soviet system in our local culture."

So it's because of you, you bastard, that they banned the play.

You denounced Marius!

I didn't denounce anyone. For the love of God!

You're a communist, you don't believe in God.

Where should I put this?

What is it?

What do you mean what? It's blood for your play.

Marius said that paint won't do.

What?

Fucking blood for your fucking play.

There's not going to be any play, they banned the play!

You know what, go shit yourself, OK?

Now you won't even be able to take a shit in peace.

You'll be scared that someone's watching you.

So who's the traitor? Hm?

Maybe it's you, my dear?

Not you?

No, not you.

This is like a game, let's look for the traitor.

So, maybe it's you?

-No, not you. -Stop messing around.

What's wrong?

-So maybe you're the traitor, huh? -Go to you know where.

I am.

Why?

I had to.

Wait, Emilia, please, say it isn't so.

I'm begging you, say that it wasn't you.

It was me, Andrius, I wrote it.

I'm begging you, say that it wasn't you.

Just lie, damnit! Emilia, come on!

It was me.

After the war, the French used to shave fascist whores bald.

Miss, miss, miss!

They brought her in unconscious. But now she's come to.

By the way, we found this scrap of paper in her coat pocket.

It had a telephone number on it so I...

Please, come in.

Heroism, you say.

What kind?

To rot in the forest?

Or to survive?

To stay alive.

Build houses, write books.

Bring up children.

That's enough lying around.

Get up!

You

Know how long being a partisan lasts?

Six months.

Six fucking months!

I'd already spent three months in the bunker.

Three.

And I wrote during all three months.

Like a madman.

And I only had three months left to live.

Three months.

Now you're going to prove it to me.

What,

Are you scared?

I'm here about the play.

Oh, right.

But there won't be any play.

There's no director.

And no lead actress.

We don't have them.

They fired the theater director!

-And the authorities banned the play. -I'm the authorities to you!

I'm not deaf.

I'm just saying that there isn't going to be any...

Now listen carefully.

This is a state order, got it?

Yes, yes. Of course.

Excuse me, but perhaps you have a spare ticket?

I can't.

I'm counting to three.

One

But I did everything, everything!

- Two - I betrayed everyone

I betrayed everyone, you hear me? What else do you want from me?

And now you're an enemy of the people.

-I can't. I'm not like that. -Do it!

I can't. Please.

Good boy. Leon. Good boy.

There's no horror left, no fear...?

Come in. Come in, comrade, come in.

We replaced the blood with water.

And of course we got rid of all those double meanings.

Right, but what about that nationalism?

No... the word "Lithuania" was removed everywhere.

And a drunken soldier brought a girl to the stable

where his friends were making merry

and they gave her vodka all night, until sunrise

and then they unveiled her chastity as the sun came up, one by one

The earth filled with terrible guilt.

Moonflowers, stinging nettle and creeping thistles sprouted up in an ugly place.

And the girl lay there

no longer calling on God for help

and the people didn't see her for three days and three nights

And you will isolate yourself from your friends and family

and then loving no one and detesting everything,

you will leave your village or town

to look for a place for your grave the beginning of true life

What is she doing?

Emilia.

What's going to happen now?

EMILIA!

I have come to greet you, as your betrothed.

From overseas?

And what is wrong with your own village, which is not adorned by foreign beauty?

I didn't want to die.

Can you understand?

I didn't want to die.

I betrayed them all.

I betrayed them, I killed them with these very hands!

So how does it feel when you understand

that you've been clinging to the words of your father's killer your entire life?

When you've read every single line a thousand times?

When you were really just soaking your hands in your father's blood.

How does it feel? Huh? Huh?

Leon! Get over here!

And there is no martyr or prophet.

And nothing is concealed that will not become known.

What you are doing in the dark will be visible in the light.

What you whisper in private

will be proclaimed from the roofs.

And you will come back.

You will come back permanently.

Thoughts and all my being, at the source,

where Your passion and pride have begun for your near suffering.

Česlovas!

What are you doing?

We have to, Jonas. Just look - people are hanging on every word.

So what? Who's better off because of it? Huh?

Lithuania.

-Lithuania will be better off. -There is no Lithuania.

They shot it, deported it, drowned it in drainage canals.

Jonas, I'm begging you, let's be amicable. I'll answer for it myself.

Get out of my...

Poetry! It is a hymn to the warriors and the unknown soldiers

who come to rape our mothers and sisters leaving only blood and the seed of Satan.

It is a hymn to papa Caesar, whose lucid mind leads us into the bright distance

where we perch, free, behind bars, sucking the foul air into our chests

as if it were the spirit of freedom,

and feeding each other lies and singing the hymn to the god of betrayal

who is soiled with the blood of white lambs

The hymn to the god of betrayal who is soiled with the blood of white lambs.

No one will understand it.

Too many intricacies.

They'll understand.

The women in the audience will break into tears

and the men will act like they don't care,

but they'll cry anyway.

Lithuania will be free.

And then you wil realize that the dagger wich you raised

above the head of you brother has infected your blood

That the poison that you put in their food has paralyzed your liver

And you will rage like rabid animals

until you fall to the ground when you see the terrible mistake.

and the Earth will not take you in.

You cannot protect yourselves, leaders, by hiding behind borders and guards.

When you lose vital contact with your brothers

you will lose flexibility in your joints

your cooling blood will stop feeding your brain

and you will start to rot like a fish or a state - from the head down

Everyone! Look!

The crown. It shines, dazzles, intoxicates

I despised the crown and hungered for it as salvation.

I will look again to make sure it is not bloody.

It seems not.

And what is within it?

Justice?

God?

There is no God, nor is there justice.

So what, then? Rubies, gold? Or the power of control?

I wanted to challenge death.

But I summoned. With all my heart, I summoned life.

Be free, oh Lithuania, for ever and ever. And be just and good to all.

Bravo! Bravo!

Emilia, Emilia

I'm sorry, I had no choice. I love the theater too much.

Young lady, where are we off to?

-To Novosibirsk. -Oh! Not Sochi?

No. I need to go to Novosibirsk.

So that means Moscow.

You'll go to Moscow and switch trains there.

Oh, love.

When everything is frozen through the iron frost

There are always those who come alone

They scratch their hands through the ice until they feel the pain

They punch a hole, so that the others could bathe.

Everything is burned, they walk through the ashes

There are always those who come alone

Hands have burned in the fire a thousand times

Until a well is dug, so that others may drink from it.

Are you the One?

The one with the injured hands

Are you the One?

The one with the injured hands

Pain will flow as honey, there where we are reborn to seek hope.

Blood will flow as honey, there while we are alive, again will seek new hope.

Translation: Kristin Baird

Subtitling: Ovidijus Žalys