Original subtitles

That night, I had a dream that I decided to describe in detail

so that you can feel the full force which binds me to you.

Nothing or no one - no matter how good-

should come between us.

That's why I dreamed of committing this murder.

THE ROAD

Dear audience, dearfriends.

I'm delighted to see you in ourfine cinema.

It is a great honorfor us all

to be the first to see the newfilm by a filmmaker

whose name is already familiarto us.

I'm referring to Amir Kobessov.

To me, Amir is a filmmaker

who is incapable of making a bad film.

All of his films are masterpieces.

They enrich the audience

and force man to think about himself

and his place in the world.

And I'm sure you'll be once again convinced today.

I'd now like to call

upon our hero tonight:

Amir Kobessov.

Amir, please...

Who was that?

What's wrong?

You'll be pleased! My mother's dead.

Your dream finally came true.

Don'tjoke about things like that.

Itjust says she's fallen ill.

You should go see her.

You haven't been in a long time.

Amir, wait!

The treatment of Christ in Dostoevsky, as Berdyaev said,

is elated and deeply intimate...

Dad, I'm watching a film!

You watch that stuff every day.

This is only on today.

Go play.

DOSTOEVSKY

Enjoy your meal.

So, if I understand correctly, you did this shot much later,

elsewhere, with another actress, then you inserted it here.

That's right. It's called "editing".

That's clear. Thank you.

Thank you. Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Amir, maybe you shouldn't push your luck.

You could throw out that shot.

The girl's right:

No one told her what she'd look like.

They're country folk.

Imagine the parents and family in their Sunday best,

flowers in their hands, at the village hall

forthe film premiere,

and discovering their daughter looking like that...

You can see their point.

And as we've received a complaint,

we have to answer it one way or another.

Remove a shot? That's easy to say.

For an outsider, it may seem simple.

But in film, one shot can be worth 500.

There have been cases in the movies

where people risked their lives to film that one shot.

It's much more complex than you think.

But that's not the problem...

What is, then?

I'm afraid the girl's complaint is too late.

The prints are at the distributor's.

I can't get them back now.

And the cost of recutting the negative and all the rest...

Do you know how much labs charge?

It's impossible.

OK, I understand.

But in ethical terms,

does your conscience botheryou?

Someone is suffering because of you and yourfilm.

You've done her harm.

When she saw herself on the screen, looking like that,

she almost hung herself.

Herfatherthrashed her in public.

If art kept bothering about morals and ethics,

it'd still be in the stone age.

One of the classics - I forget which -

compared painters to criminals:

Both make their own laws

without caring about others. Yes, they're a dangerto society.

I'm quite aware of that, but what can we do?

It goes with thejob.

In a tale by Akutagawa,

an old painter burns his daughter

to make a portrait of her on fire...

Who's Akutagawa?

What's up?

We have guests.

Who?

... The charm of the "Madone Litta" by Leonardo da Vinci is not so much

the perfect beauty of her face as her expression...

Let's do the introductions...

My name's Serik.

I'm the brother of the girl who acted in yourfilm.

I read the complaint you filed. Or rather...

that Nazira filed.

I met thejudge. I expect he told you how sorry I am...

but that it is too late now

to change anything.

Why didn't you tell Nazira?

If she'd known how shameful yourfilm would be,

she would have refused.

Serik,

my assistants spoke to her, not me.

They made a deal. Every profession has its rules.

As forthe film,

there's nothing shameful. Don't you watch TV?

You see what's on, every day!

Well, let's take a look.

Hello.

- Are they all yours? - Yes.

- Howmuch, a kilo? - 20 tenge.

- Are they from there? - Yes.

- Is that yours there, too? - Yes.

- Can I pick some? - You don't like these?

- Yes, but I'd rather do it. - Lf you like.

We have first-hand description

We have first-hand description

of Mongol armies in Hungary from scholar

and archdeacon, Thomas ofSplit...

They are small, but have broad chests.

They look fearsome with their hairless, flat faces,

their squashed noses and little eyes that are far apart.

Their clothes, impermeable to cold and damp,

have two layers of skins turned inside out,

like scales.

With leather and iron helmet,

a scimitar, a quiver,

a bow and arrows with iron or bone tips,

they ride bareback on their small, sturdy horses

which are resistant to cold and fatigue.

The men disregard their supplies

as if their harsh education suffices:

They eat no wheat, only meat,

and drink mare's milk, and blood.

In front of them, the prisoners they urge to fight.

They kill them in cold blood if they do not.

The Mongols dislike combat.

There is no river they have not crossed on horseback.

Their horde is huge, but there is neither complaint nor discord.

They calmly endure suffering and fight fiercely.

It is hard to imagine, as Arab historian Ibn Al-Assir says,

the terrible panic which seized people.

It is said that one day, a Mongol burst into a village

and started to hit people who did not try to resist.

And also that an unarmed Mongol

forced a prisoner to lie face down

while he fetched his weapon.

The prisoner obeyed

although the weapon would be used

to cut off his head.

"Just as suffocating smoke precedes a fire,

the Mongol cavalry

was preceded by a suffocating, exhausting terror,

the results of which were always fruitful," he wrote.

- Seryoja, fill the bucket! - OK.

Hey, look who's here!

Face down!

Come here!

Come on!

He said he's going to fetch something, he'll be back.

We are to stay here

and not move till he comes back.

Hello. Is it open?

Yes.

- Can I clearthe table? - Yes.

Can you turn the music off?

Sure.

He liked you.

What's your name?

Veronika. And you?

Amir.

Turn left, please.

Stop here.

Thanks.

Where do I wait foryou?

I don't know. Know where the watertower is?

I'll ask. But why not here?

Here's not possible.

Am I late?

Not too late.

Mom!

Amanjust landed on the moon! Come see!

If I watch TV, who'll milk the cow?

Go watch it yourself.

Go on, son, orthe cow will get scared.

Hello, ladies and gentlemen.

First, I'd like to thank you all

for coming out to this fine theater

despite the bad weather

and the sleet that's been falling all day.

You've come from all over forthe premiere of ourfilm.

Thank you very much.

As forthe film,

unlike the lady who runs this theater,

I cannot call it an immense masterpiece.

Not because of excessive modesty,

nor because I wish to conceal my true opinion of the film.

Absolutely not.

Any work of art,

even if it is by a great master,

is fragile and naked when faced with the audience.

Forthere are no objective criteria

tojudge the qualities and defects

of a work of art.

That is why we so envy scientists

whose discoveries can be experimented on.

For no one can venture to say that Pythagoras' Theorem

or Newton's Second Law are good or not.

These laws exist, and these discoveries and theories

are supported by Nature's unquestionable laws.

But what can works of art be supported by?

The ambitions of a single person.

That is why it is so hard for me nowtojudge my work.

Lf, afterthe screening, one of you praises the film,

if one of you likes it, I'll be very glad.

But if a clear, assertive voice points out the faults,

I will acknowledge them,

but I will wantjust one thing:

To run away and hide

and never again exercise the cruelest profession,

that of filmmaker.

I can, however, assure you of one thing:

The members of our little crew

did everything possible and sometimes the impossible

to make this film exist.

The rest is in God's hands. Thank you.

It's not ourfilm! I don't believe it!

What's going on?

I'm sorry, I got the reels mixed up.

I'll start yourfilm now.

Don't worry. Go and sit down.

All right.

Amir, I'm sorry about that,

but that's not the worst thing.

What?

The worst thing is, they liked the start of the karate film

and they want to see the rest of it.

Shameful!

Aman in the ladies'! He should use the gents'!

Are you going to stay there and fret?

I know how you feel.

I cried for 3 days when my mother died.

I got used to it.

You will, too. Sooner or later, our mothers leave us

to the mercy of our wives.

Get up, splash some water on yourface,

and let's go to my place for breakfast.

You know, Amir, life is harder everyear here.

There's no more work, no more money,

except for pensions.

The young are going to town to find work.

Luckily we have the animals and the vegetable garden!

The school's still open!

That's something, at least!

Don't talk stupid! That'd be the last straw!

Where would the children go to study?

Don't worry, if they decide to close it,

they won't ask your advice. They'Iljust do it, that's all.

You should go and see it. It'd do Amir good

to remember his childhood.

Nowthat's a really good idea!

But it's vacation time right now.

They're busy repainting it.

Well, Amir, coming to the school?

All right.

- You go fishing yesterday? - Yes.

- You go fishing yesterday? - Yes.

Why didn't you call me? Who was there?

All the gang.

Torech and Iskhak?

Torrech was. Iskhak wasn't.

Nor was Galym.

- Ilyas and Nikolai? - Ilyas came.

- Auzkhan? - No, not him.

Kali and Kaissar? They promised!

Kaissar came.

So, there you are!

I looked all overforyou.

Want to go back to school?

It's impossible. We're fartoo old.

Even if we insist, they won't take us.

Other children will have fun...

where you and I used to have fun.

September 1st.

Children, relax.

Put your hands on the table now.

Ready?

Now you are going

to shut your eyes.

Ready?

And now, breathe deeply through the nose.

Take another deep breath...

That's good... Open your eyes.

Open them slowly

and look all around you.

Rememberthis moment, these smells.

Today is September 1st.

The first day of school.

All the children in the country

are sitting in nice, clear, clean classrooms like this one.

The fresh paint has a smell all its own.

The years will pass, you will

leave school and become adults.

Some will live on here,

others will go away to the town.

But whereveryou are, as soon as you find yourselves

in a nice, clear, clean room

whose walls have just been painted,

you will remember this special day,

this special smell.

You will rememberyour childhood, yourfriends and teachers.

So, rememberthis moment well.

Do you understand, children?

It's snowing!

Snow!

That's unbelievable!

Our intellect is usually cluttered with trivialities

and jumbled emotions.

They are of course useful to us in our everyday lives,

but this accumulation makes us unhappy.

We complain, overcome by this feeling of enslavement.

Every time we attempt to move, they paralyze us

and stifle our spiritual horizon.

We continually mourn the past

or fear the future.

The past and future encroach on the present and destroy it.

In the end, our life lacks air, deteriorates, and becomes ugly.

We stop living actively

like when we were children... We just exist.

That's why most people today

suffer from depression,

these victims of logical confusion

and psychological tension.

The "thinking reed" uprooted itself,

and none ofits thinking is any use to it.

The most terrible thing is that man today denies this fact

and insists on continuing to "think",

as if thought, without its roots,

could give him a feeling of assurance.

The intellect isn't the supreme vector.

It is waiting for a higher power

to solve its question, without considering the consequences.

So, in my dream, you are in bed.

I tend to you a little:

Go past quickly, touch your forehead,

and lose myselfin your eyes asl look at you.

I bustle about the room,

fully aware, every second,

without any deliberate sense of pride,

that I am living for you, thatl am permitted that.

Then I go out into the yard and meet a distant relation

who says during a talk, the content of which I forget,

but which was about someone

who was unable to do something...

So, he says ironically by way of conclusion:

" Amir, of course, could do that."

Somehow, I killed him for this mocking smile.

I went back inside, overexcited.

Mother followed me everywhere. The discussion was heated.

In the end, I yelled, wild with rage:

"If you say another word against Amir

I'll kill you.

I'll even kill Dad- or I'll kill myself!"

Then I woke up.

Unless it was just another dream...

Subtitles: J. Miller

Sous-titrage TV S -TITRAFILM