Original subtitles

Trite Studio - Nikita Mikhalkov SAS Studio + Goskino

Present

A Film By Sergei Solovyov

Tender Age

Tighter! Tighter!

Join the ranks!

WRITTEN BY DMITRI SOLOVYOV, SERGEI SOLOVYOV

DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY PAVEL LEBESHEV

PRODUCTION DESIGN SERGEI IVANOV

Assistant Director VLADIMIR KRASINSKY

COSTUMES: NATALIA IVANOVA MAKEUP: GALINA KOROLYOVA

EDITING: VERA KRUGLOVA SOUND DESIGN: VYACHESLAV KLYUCHNIKOV

MUSIC BY ENRI LOLASHVILI

SONG BY BORIS GREBENSHCHIKOV

Is that you?

- It’s me. - Why are you bald?

STARRING

I cut my hair.

Like everyone here.

- Are you very lonely here? - Yes.

DMITRI SOLOVYOV YELENA KAMAEVA

I’ve lost everything.

You only wanted some bubble gum.

- Right? - Right.

I only wanted some bubble gum.

Lena!

Cast

LIUDMILA SAVELIEVA, KIRILL LAVROV VALENTIN GAFT, SERGEI GARMASH

ANDREI PANIN, TOMASZ BIALKOWSKI, NIKOLAI CHENDYAIKIN

ALEKSEI DAGAEV, OLGA SIDOROVA IVAN BERZIN, ANTON KHRAPOV

IVAN ALIMOV, ANDREI SAVOSTIANOV IRINA GRIGORIEVA

Tender age…

PRODUCED BY LEONID VERESHCHAGIN

PRODUCED BY NIKITA MIKHALKOV

DIRECTED BY SERGEI SOLOVYOV

TENDER AGE

Tell me, is there any truth at all in your stories

about all these head injuries?

- Yes. - But there was so many that

you should be deemed a perfect, hopeless idiot.

Yet your speech patterns and eye expression

aren’t showing signs of that.

Is this your x-ray?

I don’t know, I guess it is.

Of course it’s his.

Could it be that speech patterns and eye expression

are just outward, comrade neurologist?

While inward, I’m already a lost case?

That’s why I want you to recall everything to me.

The comrade from the military prosecution

will take notes of what he deems important.

Tell us everything.

The hospital where he was taken unconscious last week

was located in the city of Mineralnye Vody.

The endless Chechen War of 1994

was still raging nearby.

PART I THE IDIOT

- Hi there, Gromov. - Hi.

Slowly goes the arm, one, two, three…

What are you, crazy?

Close the door right away.

Are your parents alive?

My father is a diplomat or a spy, specializing in combat zones.

My mom travels with him around the world.

I don’t know them all that well.

Your father’s social background?

My grandfather, General Fyodor Gromov,

is a friend and namesake of the more famous Gromov.

Grandpa conquered America with Chkalov in his day.

He sent Gagarin into space, too.

Khrushchev awarded him with a car, a Volga.

When Grandpa took me to school for the first time,

he gave Gagarin’s space suit to the school.

I always loved Grandpa. He was a great guy.

My Grandma was a night witch.

During the war, that’s what they called the girls

who flew over the frontline at night in old biplanes

to bomb the Germans.

- Where are they going, I wonder? - To a restaurant, of course.

Marriages aren’t made in restaurants but in heaven,

In gilded rooms with silver ceilings.

You’ve mentioned a Lena a few times. Who is she?

Oh, nobody. The daughter of my parents’ classmates.

They’re also spies somewhere abroad.

The Witch and I would often pick up Lena from school.

From her dance school, also.

She’d hang at our place. Later, Lena’s parents took her abroad

and she disappeared, vanished without a trace,

evaporated, dematerialized, in a sense,

and maybe disassociated into atoms,

while we back here found ourselves in hot water.

IN ANTICIPATION OF THE HOT WATER

Clock start!

Like I told you, the Kalashnikov rifle has no equals in the world

in terms of construction, efficiency and wounding power.

That’s unfair!

I’m doing my best, they’re bullying me!

On guard!

Two steps away from Yudin, everyone!

Why are you acting like a P.O.S., Yudin?

You really are shell-shocked, aren’t you, Semion Semionych?

You could’ve really hit me.

Semion Semionych was a shop teacher

who doubled as military prep instructor.

Sometimes we wondered why we were still alive.

However odd, somehow we liked him.

We listened attentively and respectfully to his jingoistic frenzy.

It’s either you kill or you get killed.

I’ve been pretty open with you about what I mean by that.

Yes, Gromov, I mean American imperialism.

They want the same thing as Hitler.

They want to, um, conquer the world,

they want to impose their will,

impose their dollar-greedy will on you,

and they’ll succeed unless you resist!

This is coming from a combatant officer

temporarily on reserve list.

This is coming from me, Semion Bespalchikov

who saw it all in Cuba and Afghanistan and touched it all with these very hands.

Ask those who fought the Nazis,

what was then on their mind.

Tomorrow!

Veterans will come tomorrow to our Gagarin Museum

to accept you into the Young Pioneers movement.

It’s long overdue for Suportova, Yevdokimova and you, Gromov.

Why weren’t you at the Pioneers?

I was generally underachieving.

Suportova and Yevdokimova were once accepted

but immediately expelled for prostituating.

Young Pioneers didn’t prostituate under communism.

They were caught red-handed at the Salut Tourist Complex

back in Brezhnev’s times.

Mind you, they weren’t after money,

only leisure interest.

In 1984, there was already one Chechen gangster, Aslan, in the area.

- Who gets the 300? - The one with the hat.

ASLAN THE CHECHEN

Here.

From then on, it was run as a business:

percentage allocations from each client’s pay

forged remittances, weapons, drugs.

We’ll get back to the Chechen.

So, were you accepted into the Pioneers?

- I, Yekaterina Yevdokimova… - Ivan Gromov…

- Nadezhda Suportova… - …am joining the ranks

of the Young Pioneers movement

founded by Vladimir Lenin

and solemnly swear to our comrades…

Sure I was. With flying colors.

Yudin was reluctant at first. He felt sorry for the dove.

We reassured him that the dove would survive the demarche…

What dove?

I’m getting there.

The demarche had been prepared in full secrecy

in Grandpa’s office while nobody was home.

Serioga the Kid supervised the preparations.

We’ll buy a dove at the market.

The aluminum tin needs to be made today.

We’ll put sulphur and magnesium nitrate in the box

in very precise proportions.

The dove flies, the box heats up, burning the dove's ass.

The dove goes frenzy, hits his head against the glass.

- That’s it. - That’s what?

Pioneers! Be always ready to support the cause of the Communist Party!

Always ready!

Take cover!

- Was it some sort of social protest? - God forbid.

Purely a prank with no motive whatsoever.

They barely had a chance to don their Pioneer scarves.

They blew up the school in December 1985

and in April 1986 Gorbachev gave full freedom to everyone.

No one knew what freedom was.

But, everyone figured, it meant that

you could do whatever and get away with it.

The third-floor latrine became an adaptation facility.

There they explored the market economy, glasnost and democracy.

Overwhelmed by frenzy, they’d explain the news to each other

to the best of their comprehension.

The greatest news was that life wasn’t about the Mendeleev Table

but about dough. The chips, the greens, the cabbage.

For a while, however, the disastrous lack of dough

was compensated by hormonal turmoil.

Juvenile adrenaline worked wonders when it hit the brain.

The front runner was Alyosha Dagaev:

a handsome blond guy, a kind-hearted fellow,

but somehow also a hopeless wacko and a goon.

DAGAEV

That it?

Your chemistry teacher Ivan Ivanovich has retired.

Stop moaning.

From now on, your chemistry teacher is…

Svetlana Valentinovna.

Hello.

Please make her

feel welcome.

H2O AND OTHER EROGENOUS ASPECTS OF CHEMISTRY

Hey, look at her ass.

It's a remarkable, exceptional ass.

How about I make her erotically shocked?

I’m going to get naked, how about that?

- Stark naked? - Why not?

I bet you three rubles.

Alright, give me the three rubles.

This isn’t erotically shocking. Stand up, that’ll be shocking.

It wasn’t part of our deal, but I’ll stand up alright.

What’s going on?

Nothing. It’s too hot is all.

Maybe it’s the weather. Something with the pressure.

Maybe I’m just too excited to have you as our teacher.

Let’s get her to the first-aid room.

So, if each of us here now gives you three rubles,

you’ll get naked in front of us, too?

Go ahead, I sure will.

How about I punch him in the face right now?

Please, this is a faculty meeting.

But it’s just unacceptable! He’s an animal!

- Are you here, guys? - Yeah. They kicked you out?

No way. They'll sooner have to go themselves.

Igor Ivanovich is already talking to them.

- Who’s Igor Ivanovich? - You’ll find out.

Gimme a smoke.

You wanna make things worse?

- Give it to me. - Ok, whatever.

Igor Ivanovich, my uncle, is with the Solntsevskaya Gang.

The whole Southwest is under them.

Dagaev!

There we go again. What else do they need?

“Greetings, youthful And unfamiliar clan!”

How I wish I were again as young as you are now.

ELYSIUM OF SHADES

“If youth but knew, if age but could.”

Today’s youth has young winds of young freedom.

Cherish it.

It is so rare in our country.

Take a whiff.

It’s a good wine.

How much has been sacrificed to this freedom.

You’ve heard of Solzhenitsyn, haven’t you?

He’s just the tip of the iceberg.

So many other honest people, the best of us,

died in exile, in prisons, in torture chambers of the KGB.

They suffered for freedom.

And now the rare sun is shining on our street.

Maybe not yet shining, but it’s almost dawn for sure.

I can smell it in the air.

You see, Saledon’s dad was an intellectual,

a champion of civic rights and also a sculptor.

He’d been labeled a dissident, a CIA agent, a Judeo-Mason and an underground artist.

In spite of that, his scandalous statues

were displayed across whole Russia.

Saledon Jr. said his father had loads of money.

I’d been to his studio in a huge house in central Moscow.

He had his own steel production set up in his yard.

“Elysium of shades this soul of mine,”

“Shades silent, luminous, and wholly severed”

“From this tempestuous age, these restless times,”

“Their joys and griefs, their aims and their endeavors.”

Tyutchev.

Do you feel the magic?

What magic! “Elysium of shades this soul of mine.”

Anyway.

Here’s a 10 for pocket money. Lock all the doors when you leave.

You know where to leave the keys. I’ll be out till morning.

“Elysium of shades this soul of mine.”

Any clue what elysium is?

Don’t pay attention to his bullshit. Promise me you won’t faint.

Tyutchev, my ass. Come on in.

Don’t worry, it’s us.

Hi there. What are you reading, Suportova?

- Whatever I find. - They kicked her from the house.

For improper behavior. What are you gotta do? I gave her shelter.

We’re in domestic partnership now.

- Ever seen real boogie? - Never.

Up the volume!

You get it now? That’s no Tyutchev.

Can I try the glasses on?

Sure.

- Come here! - Who, me?

Come here.

I can’t. I’m blind.

Come here, I’m telling you.

God, you’re weird.

I told you I’m blind. Very blind.

Where are we?

Take the glasses off.

I want to see you now like I saw you then at the dance school.

What are you, crazy?

I'm begging you.

Look away then.

Ivan!

- But don’t you touch me. - I won’t.

What’s up?

Bet you 25 rubles that I’ll screw her.

- Who? - The chemistry teacher.

- I don’t have that much. - Bad for you.

So much dough out there now, you gotta be lazy not to have it.

I’ll screw her anyway. You’ll be my witness.

PARDON, MADAME

Excuse me.

I was passing by and saw the light was on.

I really am so embarrassed. I don’t know how…

how could I come up with something like that.

I was looking out for you to say I’m sorry.

You see, we all loved Ivan Ivanovich who retired so suddenly.

He was so interesting in his way.

He despised us, and we were fond of it.

The experiments he assigned to us always yielded the same product:

hydrogen sulphide.

Sometimes he would take out a violin

and walked the aisles playing it.

And then… Can I?

He would then open the drawer, take out three or four spirit burners,

pour the contents into a beaker,

drink it and keep playing.

How do I know this? I drank with him.

Then I listened.

Oh, you’re something!

Dagaev, what are you…

Are you in your right mind? What are you doing?

What are you doing? Stop right away.

Stop right away.

It’s burning!

Take it out, take it out…

Oh, you’re something.

- The switch, the switch… - Huh?

The switch, yes.

You owe me 13 for the teacher.

Baker’s dozen.

Please meet the new guy. His name is Darling Ass.

Anastas Bogodurov.

I haven’t got it.

You’re not serious.

If you ain’t got any money Drench your ass in milk and honey.

I’ll have it tomorrow.

Well, if you don’t, you’ll have to make it up.

Is that motorbike still there, Stassy?

Guess so. Unless they hid it. It’s been snowing since yesterday.

Hey.

- What’s this? - An engine.

Where you’re going with it?

- Body shop. - I see.

- Some funny coat you got. - It’s not “some” coat. It’s fur.

- Cow fur. - I see.

So, it was you who removed the engine?

Sign here.

Are you stupid? Don’t sign anything.

- You won’t sign it? - No.

Very well. How old are you, again?

- 14. - 14 full years?

- Yes. - Very well.

Come here.

Very well…

Tender age.

Your turn now. But you could skip it.

I could tear my report, too.

I can see you all are intelligent, understanding folks.

- We could make a deal. - We could.

Great. Any of you know how to drive?

- I do. - He’s a good driver.

But an excellent driver is Serioga the Kid.

He’s our pal.

Is he also an understanding person?

You bet.

Any questions?

Yes.

Do you know by any chance what elysium is?

No, I don’t know what’s an elysium.

My advice to you: only know what’s practical.

That rotten bastard who knocked my tooth out as a way of introduction

was named Capt. Okunkov.

Turn on the flashes. Start the car.

Halt!

Open the door, Buzykin.

Come on in.

Move it, move it.

Close the door, Buzykin.

It’s all done, Aslan. The truck’s passed through.

The watermelon papers are clean.

It’s now on the highway.

Good job.

- Who gets $300? - The one with the hat.

Here. Others get $200 each, like we agreed.

Here. Here.

- You’ll go far if you stay out of prison. - We’ll see that he stays out.

Buzykin! Cut it, open the door!

That’s it, you’re free to go.

- Bye. - Have a good one.

Close it, Buzykin!

Well done. Very well.

Here’s your grand and a half.

Some kids you brought up! You must be proud.

Proud to serve the Soviet Union.

“A cloud bank, bright and high”

“covers earth with fleeing shades.”

“Thats our life, you sighed,”

“not the cloud lit up by rays,”

“but that shadow running away.”

Does you dad have a dictionary?

- Huh? - Is there a dictionary?

- Why? - I still want to know what elysium is.

Some sort of medication? No clue, really.

No point in asking Nadya, she’s into very different things.

Is she here still?

Didn’t I tell you? She and I live a healthy sexual life

in a domestic partnership.

You should also get yourself something stable.

Casual relationships will get you into trouble in the age of AIDS.

I don’t give a damn. I don’t have any relationships.

How come?

What are you, still a cherry, bro?

Are you nuts?

We’re all human, we all have urges.

I’ll be waiting downstairs.

What is it?

- C’mon, Nadya. - You’re crazy.

You’re the only hope, Nadya.

Vanya!

Here’s they key. You can lock the door.

- You got a condom? - Don’t worry, pal.

It’ll be painless. Trust me, Nadya is a luminary in these matters.

FALLEN ANGELS

Well, what are you waiting for? Get naked.

Fully naked.

Take your glasses off.

Come on in.

Come on, come closer.

Don’t you want to?

Ok. I’ll come closer, then.

Take your seats.

This is it.

The Third World War,

which many carelessly thought of as “cold”,

is over.

And we fucking blew it!

Oh dear…

I am leaving

because there’s no more need for my services.

Forget everything I’ve told you.

It’s too late now.

I showed you

this exercise once.

We, young fighters of the Special Ops,

we were all obliged to master it:

using just the edge of your hand

break a brick in two.

But!

Today, I am taking this exercise

to the next level!

PART II FATHERS AND SONS

Oh my, oh my!

How much you have changed!

- Well, hello, hello. - At long last!

Hi.

God spare us!

I’ve noticed that you avoid talking about your parents altogether.

Why should I talk about them? I hardly know them, they’re never around.

We all went to college in ’62 and studied together.

Everyone used to think we were lucky.

Of course! It was the classiest school.

The diplomats. It’s been twenty years now: an anniversary.

How beautiful, how naïve:

“So vehement, so stubborn, Burn, fire, burn.”

You guys, I imagine, listen to other songs now.

Not at all. Okudzhava performs in Paris.

Lena and I always go.

- Do you like it? - Yes.

I think more often about Prokhor than my own mother.

The mad Bespalchikov was right. They blew it all:

they blew communism, then the fucking democracy.

We’re not masters of ourselves, you know.

MI FAZER

Who’s your master then?

Our work, Vanya.

MAMAN

Who’s Prokhor though?

Never mind. It’s just an example.

Alright, doesn’t matter.

What about Lena? It’s important for clinical evidence.

Lena is important for clinical evidence?

What about her? That’s just Lena.

You are delightfully splendid, as is your motorcar.

Do you know, by the way, how terribly expensive

a motorcar like this costs in Paris?

No, I don’t. Why would I?

For the Grandpa the car is priceless.

I still remember him. Even the way he smelled.

Say, isn’t it like a different city now? It’s changed so much.

Yes, all is different now. All different.

Easy with the oars. Don’t scare the birds away.

Yudin was the first to leave the school

to be a bird keeper in a zoo.

Dagaev was expelled for bad behavior.

Saledon soon ventured into professional DJing.

There was no point anymore in going to school.

Nothing they taught there was useful

while richly decorated graduation certificates

were freely sold everywhere.

They brought you here for how long?

Nobody brings me anywhere anymore.

I’ll stay as long as I want.

My parents bought me an apartment.

Come over if you want.

Say, why don’t the swans migrate for the winter?

Their wings have been cut.

It’s cruel but it’s the only way to keep them here.

They fly when they want to.

Who’s he?

Oh, him? This is Voltaire.

You can put a hat on him.

He’s feeling colder than you are, the poor French.

Here’s cheese. Here’s calvados, the apple vodka.

It’s obviously awful, but the French drink it when it’s cold.

SHE’S

MY

- Is this you on the cover? - Yes.

Per che?

That’s what I do.

Am I now your only, lifelong deflowerer?

Yes, exactly. You’re my deflowerer.

Look at yourself. And look at me.

And? Firstly, you’re very cute.

As cute as Alain Delon,

but better, because you’re younger.

Secondly, you’re reticent and clever,

because only clever people are reticent.

Thirdly, you’re loyal and passionate.

Say, how many years has it been since we last met?

I’m not sure, but it’s been many.

Yes, many.

But you remembered me this whole time.

I felt it, I knew it.

- How did you know? - I just did.

I also think you’ve been through hell and high water.

Not really. I might’ve seen some hell,

but the water wasn’t that high.

Also, I’m not cute at all. I am feeble and unathletic.

My eyesight isn’t great, either. I’m almost a freak.

At least in terms of morals.

And I’m not that clever.

I’m mostly silent because I’ve nothing to say.

I’m also a coward.

I go along with whatever circumstances.

Clever and brave people create their circumstances.

Frankly, I should also tell you about Suportova.

Shut up.

We wouldn’t let go of each other for several days.

Then she felt like having some chewing gum

and things went downhill.

Say, do you have any chewing gum?

No. But it isn’t a problem anymore.

Loads of chewing gum are sold commercially on every corner.

I’m curious. I want to buy some.

WRIGLEY’S: ENDLESS JOY IN EVERY STRIP

Two gums, please.

Why the money? Tell what you want and it’ll be yours.

- Hey, what’s your name? - Whatever.

Ah, this isn’t nice.

What the hell are you doing?

We’re giving you money, you asshole.

Open it! Can you hear me, asshole?

The stall where they had their asses kicked

was near the discotheque where Saledon was now working.

That was where they were headed in the first place.

Saledon wasn’t just upset about the situation with the gum.

He became very serious and sent some men over,

whom, as it would turn out, he himself had never met.

You got a car? Give us the keys.

Here’s the keys.

Ok, look. Be at this spot in exactly an hour.

When it’s over, in five minutes pick up your car around the corner.

Marshal Polikarpov St., 4.

The engine will be turned on.

- All clear? - Yes.

It’s a pleasure, Madame.

What are they up to, I wonder.

I don’t know. I guess they’ll make the dude apologize.

…it isn’t a call to revert to old methods.

It’s a call to create conditions for accelerating the perestroika.

Here’s chewing gum.

WRIGLEY’S: A TASTE THAT LINGERS

Never again have I seen those guys or Grandpa’s car.

Lena left without saying a word.

Two days later, Grandpa died.

Bro, help me take my pants off.

Silly as it may sound, the theft of the old Volga

was the last straw that broke Grandpa.

That may be true. A loved object suddenly lost

can rarely find a substitution in human psyche.

Quite often it doesn’t.

Then it becomes unbearable.

- What does? - Emotional pain.

The funeral of the general hero

was attended by just a handful of poor, outcast old folks.

Why should I have survived him?

What do we do now?

Take you, for instance: how am I supposed

to put bread on the table?

He knew all too well, of course, that now it was him

who had to be the breadwinner.

Decent work was still hard to come by.

He didn’t feel like bowing down to Aslan.

But suddenly he recalled Dagaev’s uncle.

People are giving us bad rep, calling us gangsters.

Rubbish. A state within a state, that’s what we are.

The state whose representatives we see on TV -

ministers, candidates, deputies -

they’re just scum and nothing else.

As you may know from Alyosha,

in the Southwest there’s no state at all, just the Chechen gangs.

What’s wrong with the Chechens? They can be dealt with.

We’ve dealt with them.

Even the Chechens are better than the fucking state.

Shall we get the main course?

“When a pheasant’s egg is hidden in the scorching desert sand”

“and another dangles in the wind near the snow-covered Hu mountain,”

“you get unexpected ideas…”

Huang Ting-Fu,

Thai thinker of the Jian Era, 6th century BC.

You’ll start off in the haul truck business.

We’ll sort you a license.

The truck will be waiting for you in Petersburg.

The papers are in good order.

Obviously they’re fake. The shipment’s illegal.

But all arrangements have been made.

When you pass a police post,

don’t stop but throw a matchbox out the window.

Put 5,000 rubles in each box beforehand.

Fold the bill like this and put it in here.

You’ll get $2,500 for the whole thing.

- It’s not drugs, is it? - Do you care?

Do you care if it’s surface-to-surface missiles with nuclear warheads?

You don’t get paid this much for shipping green peas.

You do realize that, don’t you?

Here’s $1,000 upfront.

You’re paying me a 10% broker fee from each job.

It’s a fair deal, pal.

Sorry, bro, but that’s life. Which is to say, market economy.

- Here. - Thanks.

I need a hit, bro. You want some?

- Nah. - Ok, more for me.

Gimme a hand, will you?

As he was waiting for the shipment in Petersburg,

Ivan found out that his new life had nearly gone awry.

The cops refused to take bribes in rubles.

Fearing inflation, they wanted green bucks.

Apparently, that caused a skirmish, in which

some cop general was shot dead.

That didn’t help. The cops had it their way.

Milk, bread and some sausage.

What’s that you got there?

A monkey, can’t you see?

- Why is he so bald? - Well, that’s the way he is.

This isn’t a good climate for him.

Hey, you wanna sell the monkey?

The cheapskate took 500 bucks for the animal.

He instructed me to dress him up and that his name was Prokhor.

I’m taking you to Moscow, Prokhor.

I’ll give you to the zoo where Yudin works.

He’s my classmate.

A nice, kind man.

I feel sorry for you, but that’s life.

It’s not that bad at the zoo.

You’ll get fed and won’t have to worry.

Maybe your fur will grow back.

Now, look, Prokhor, we’re gonna do something quaint.

See that post?

Give me your paw.

Take the matchbox.

Now look out and wait for my command.

Throw it.

Did he pick it up?

Well, Prokhor, isn’t that something?

I bet no one throws money around in the jungle, huh?

“A cloud bank, bright and high”

“covers earth with fleeing shades.”

“Thats our life, you sighed,”

“not the cloud lit up by rays,”

“but that shadow running away.”

Start it.

- What’s wrong? - I don’t know.

Here. A gift for you.

He’s losing hair. That’s because of the humidity.

If you feed him well, he’ll get better.

His name’s Prokhor.

So, why the long face?

Nadya Suportova was murdered.

- What?! - Suportova was murdered.

Okunkov says it was the Chechen pimp who did her in.

Nadya’s death proved to be a moment of reckoning,

a decisive point of no return.

It wasn’t just solitude anymore.

He suddenly felt that it was over, that he was suffocating.

Without knowing why, he spent the remainder of his earnings

on a plane ticket to Paris.

FOOCH

- God! By what chance? - I came to see you.

I realized that I missed you so much,

I decided to come.

I was actually going to call you

and invite you to stay here.

Can I ask you something?

I’ll accept whatever you say.

I’m going to get married, you see.

She kept talking. She said the man was

a Russian emigrant, much older than her.

But Ivan hardly registered

as he was blandly staring at his reflection in her sunglasses.

He missed a half of it;

she said more than enough in her first sentence.

Take off your sunglasses.

When are you going back?

- Tonight. - It’s a shame.

How about we go visit him now?

It’s not far. Alright? Take the keys.

Say, do you know what elysium is?

Elysium? I’m afraid I don’t.

But I can fetch a dictionary

from my office upstairs.

Don’t bother. It’s not that urgent.

And what is it that you do?

- Truck driving. - What?!

I do long haul shipping.

And what is your line of work?

I’m in perfume business.

- Haven’t been in Russia for a while? - I have.

I often visit.

- Why? - On business.

May I ask what kind of business a French perfumer may have in Russia?

Our company has, in collaboration with the Moscow authorities,

been involved in utilisation, processing and removal of excrement.

- Excrement? - Well, yes.

Some of its ingredients are used here in France

to create aromatic compositions

in production of haute perfume.

Actually, I’ve been looking for someone who would

potentially run our Moscow office.

Would you happen to know a serious young businessman

fit for the job?

Somehow I immediately imagined Darling Ass in his fur coat

spreading shit over chemical glass with a pestle.

But I kept it to myself and gave a vague response.

I’ll think about it.

It’s been a pleasure being here.

But as Lena has probably told you, I’ve got a flight tonight.

Hopefully we’ll meet again, here or in Moscow.

Has he really been shipping shit back and forth for 40 years?

Yes, but only forth. Moscow to Paris.

What then? You make perfume out of it here?

Not quite, just some ingredients.

I told you: he’s very honest and forthcoming.

- Where to now? - Go straight ahead.

Strange to say, but I’ve actually found

a gilded room with silver ceilings here in Paris.

So it’s working out great. You have a place for your wedding.

No, it’s not a place for a wedding. It’s at a flea market.

Why don’t we go home, to Moscow?

It’s like we’re not hearing each other.

- I’m getting married, you see. - Oh, right.

Listen, I don’t feel like driving to the airport.

Let’s pull up by the metro.

No need to go with me.

- Look, I can’t be single in my trade. - I know.

I can’t leave my job, either. It’s stupid. It’s my bread.

It’s very stylish, too.

- I gotta go. - Do I get a kiss?

What shall I do, Vanya?

Marry him. Take the keys and go.

I didn’t have a flight that night, of course.

I didn’t have a place to stay in Paris, either.

I was “fooch”. Nobody. Nothing.

I remembered reading about honest Russian people in the last century

who were looking for death in the Caucasus to flee their anguish.

I was in a similar predicament. Something had to be done.

I thought of Semion Semionych then.

You are sure, Gromov?

- Very sure. - I’m glad.

Where’re you at with draft service?

I’ve avoided it for a year. I’d hit a drum with my head as a kid.

So I have medical exemption.

What if you’re actually retarded?

I’m not. Cross my heart.

They won’t take you if your papers say you’re retarded.

You’ve been told that many times:

with this papers you’re only good to go

to a hospital and get examined.

You are objectively fit for service,

but the papers say you’re a nut.

What if you decide to shoot everyone in your regiment?

They’ll skin me alive then.

Wait here. I’ll talk to the officer.

PART III WAR AND PEACE

Enough with the smoking, Gromov.

Put a bag on your head and take a shower.

Time to change your bandage.

Wake up Gromov, don’t miss the action.

A hug before we go.

Damn, it’s a real mess. Follow me, Gromov.

We’ll set up a command post.

Move it!

What’s with this fire?

It’s supposed to be our guys in that direction.

Call the Third. Tell them to contact Arrow 2.

We need intel for square 8-6-15.

It’s supposed to be us, but they’re firing at us.

And we’re supposed to take that square.

Arrow 7 to Arrow 2, over.

Gromov, where are you?

Arrow 2, reply missing.

Lyoha Kuzovkin. My pal.

They whacked him while you were crawling around.

Arrow 7, how did the airdrop go?

Tell them it went fucking amazing.

In these exact words. I’m lost for others.

Our guys firing at our own. What is it, Vanya?

They’re either morons or traitors in this radio box of yours.

Or maybe they’re both.

Alright, let’s get up.

Can’t chill it out in this fucking Chechen puddle.

Hang on, Semion Semionych.

Wait. Don’t go.

After Ivan came back to his senses,

his first thought was about Nadya, then, for some reason, about Prokhor.

Where is he? What’s happening to him?

Don’t be sniffing, Lieutenant.

Of course it’s brandy. You want a splash?

Lately, you see, it’s been impossible for me

to stay sober on this job.

You can put that down in your report.

I am disappointed in you, Gromov.

Maybe you really are retarded after all.

Your intelligent eye expression is just appearance.

War isn’t a game, Gromov.

Not a place to take

your mind off things or heal your soul.

Did you really hit a drum with your head?

I did.

That gave you such a great diagnosis.

Life gave you a chance not to be here,

to stay away from this,

from such memories,

from being a part

of this shit show.

Such a great diagnosis.

WAR

Why are you topless, soldier?

I used my uniform to make a bandage.

What’s this blood? You’re wounded?

No, Sir, I got dirty.

You wounded yourself, didn’t you? You were going to desert.

Semion Semionych is down, Tank Commander, Sir.

Who's that? Stop it!

You’re saluting with your hat off!

What are you, fucking guerrilla? Who are you?

Private Ivan Gromov!

Out here, you’re no Gromov. Your assigned code name?

Arrow 7.

Pick up your radio and follow the tank, forward march!

On the double!

Headquarters to Arrow, over.

Headquarters to Arrow! Reply missing!

Fuck you, bastards.

I’m no fucking arrow. I’m Ivan Gromov.

Arrow, do you read? Collect the airborne package.

Provisions, bandages. Over.

7B

When I came back, Grandma cried for three days straight, looking at me.

She then fixed Grandpa’s old tussore suit for me,

told me to rejoice and left off to the market.

You must be Ivan Gromov.

I knew it right away!

Please sign for delivery.

This is your veteran gift and an invitation to our club, Wild Storks.

You were wounded in Chechnya, right?

This is a party horn. A straw hat.

Can I try it on you?

There… Looks good on you!

Blow!

Hilarious! Here, take it.

This is imported.

- What’s that? - Condoms.

- Huh? - Condoms! A hundred of them.

Why so many?

Isn’t it fun? We had a blast coming up with it.

And you, are you fun?

Yeah, very fun.

Well, then… It’s yours, and I’ll get going.

A HUNDRED

WAS TOO MANY

It’s scary, no?

You’re not going to cut yourself?

Come here.

Look closely.

This is the best steel in the world.

Same steel that our tanks and planes were made of

when we gave Hitler a thrashing.

Gagarin’s spaceship was also made of this.

Oh, God, Vanya dear…

What have you done, Vanya…

ARTICLE 7B IS INVOKED WHEN A DRAFTEE IS DEEMED UNFIT FOR SERVICE

DUE TO CONSEQUENCES OF HEAD DAMAGE

First thing I realized after waking up was that

I was again short on money.

I reached out to Dagaev only to find that he was

committed in a nuthouse to treat his drug habit,

in a ward 64 for violent patients.

His all-powerful uncle got himself killed in a shootout.

The only person who visited Dagaev in the hospital was

Svetlana Valentinovna, our chemistry teacher.

Yudin left to work in a forestry,

Saledon was, as always, cheerful but poor.

Serioga the Kid, who opened a body shop in his garage,

gave me a hug and $200 as a loan.

But it was Darling Ass who saved me.

He had mysteriously worked himself up to be a market director.

Bogodurov gave me $2,000 right away and promised a nice job upon my return.

PEACE

SHE IS

MY

If it’s not too late,

I was just going to say: don’t.

Don’t marry him just yet, Lena.

I’m not going to anymore.

Lock the door.

Elysium is the lair of the blessed.

- What was that? - I found out.

Elysium is the lair of the blessed.

You’re a nut job after all.

In a different way than I am.

What do you find in me?

You’re very cute.

Cuter than Alain Delon.

Reticent, clever, strong.

You will survive anything.

Come closer.

But don’t you touch me.

There they stood, in the middle of a strange city.

They suddenly felt they were vestiges of something,

now intertwined forever,

who came from nowhere and for no purpose.

For a brief moment, they felt as if

hardships and miseries had been gone,

disappeared behind their closed shoulders.

He knew he had to live on,

if only to pay the money back to the Kid and to Darling Ass

and to take care of Grandma.

It was time to come back home

in spite of her fear and his desperation.

But that was still to come.

And now, just as the prophesy had it,

they were sheltered by…

THE HEAVEN

GILDED ROOM WITH SILVER CEILINGS PARIS, FLEA MARKET

I dreamed of a way to the North, I dreamed of quiet and peace

I dreamed the sky has opened And You were looking from there

The angels in all their glory, And there, together with them

By Your side, there was she, The one I love

And I said to You: listen, I'll give you whatever You want

My body, my immortal soul, My life and even my death

All the songs I haven't sung, Even a place in Your paradise

If only You promise me Her, the one I love

My heart doesn't have much light, There's only a dim lightbulb

When it burns out, I'll have to Find a new one in hell

Obliviously I am dancing On the frozen edge

I would fall if not for her, If not for the one I love

What awaits me, I do not know, But I know what my destiny is

It is her, the one who waits for me, The one I love.

English subtitles: Andrei Kartashov