All language subtitles for Obcansky prukaz (Identity Card) (République tchèque) (2010).English

Right. Hold it there.
Good, and down.

Next!

Get a good run up.
Kick your legs up! Kick! Good.

That's it! And down.

Next.

Swing your legs, boy!

And again. Let's do another round.
Up. And back.

Get your arse up there.
Get up there! Stay there.

Lock your elbows, lock them.
That's it. Down.

Next.

Up. Get your arse up.
Good. Lift.

Good, Jehlička,
that's the way to do it. Go on.

Next.

Up, no, you're holding it wrong.

No, not like that. Get up there!

Up! Get your arse up. Go on!

No! Again. Get back up there.
That's it. Good, next.

Come on, Kubíček.
See what you can do.

Stay up there, come on!
Get your legs up.

Use your stomach muscles,
come on. Bend your legs.

Kick up there! Up!
Go on, get out! Go!

IDENTITY CARD

Y ou can join the girls.
Your hair's long enough!

- Hi.
- Hi.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Cinglák Hill, over where
we lived, was our refuge.

- Truth or dare? - Dare.
- Give Václav a kiss.

A refuge for all young hippies
who couldn't get served in the pub.

On the other side, beyond the
hollow, the hill goes all the way up

to the houses where I had to go
for walks with my parents.

Boring Sunday afternoons when
we used to go to envy the houses

where wealthy communists lived.

Whatever we didn't drink on
Wednesdays we'd bury for a rainy day

- meaning the rest of the week -

so that people walking
their dogs wouldn't find it.

We called them grave robbers.

Bad luck, Prokeš,
that was your ticket to Cinglák.

But I'm already on Cinglák.

Sorry, but Cinglák has always begun
over there, over the road.

And the ticket's always been, every
Wednesday, a bottle of something.

They say the Wednesday ticket,
a bottle of drink, was introduced

by the Čambora brothers,

who were
the biggest hippies far and wide.

Our gang's got
the best spot on Cinglák,

in a hollow under a cliff
looking out over the city.

We're best friends,
hardened from street fights

and forever at war with
the teachers at the primary school

we're soon going to leave,
like rats deserting a sinking ship.

Hey.

So what have you brought then?

We used to make cocktails out of the
cheapest wine and leftover spirits.

Four parts condurango, an excellent
wine from the chemist's

for just eleven crowns.

One part rum from my dad's stash.

We'd make up
all sorts of names for them,

based on what they'd been made from,
like Old Tennis Shoe or Snake Lip.

And one part rubbing alcohol from
Mít'a's grandma. Sorry grandma...

Top up with Šumava herbal liqueur.

But our favourite was the Šimáček.

Shaken, not stirred.
And the famous Šimáček is ready,

just like its creator, the famous
Šimáček from Bubeneč.

The guy in the poncho is Václav
Jehlička, but we call him Cinderella.

- Kicks like a mule.
- On account of his dad.

Dad! No!

Most of our dads counted the years
as those before 1968,

the Russian invasion,
and those after it.

And most of them were frightened,
angry and disappointed...

just like Cinderella's dad.

He used to be a foreman in a
factory, but now he's a dustman.

The fun's over, son.

Most of them, apart from my dad.
But I'll tell you about that later.

Cinderella's grandma
made his poncho.

He told her he was going to a
fancy-dress party as a red indian.

And then he hid it away somewhere,

because otherwise his dad
would have thrown it out again.

Try it.

Aleš, my second best friend,
is a poet.

Wait outside.

He always had several notebooks
full of his poems on him.

- So this is where you live?
- Yeah.

Aleš's stepdad was someone important
at the Ministry of Agriculture.

- And who lives there?
- Her husband. - What?

My mum's husband.

- Oh right, your dad.
- No.

Aleš had - as he used to say -
excluded him from his life.

- Hey, I have to...
- Oh right, the toilet's there.

No, not that!
Home, I have to go home.

Well, if you must...

- But read this.
- What is it? - Poems.

Poems? You wrote poems for me?

Well, yeah...

- Thanks.
- That's okay.

See you then.

Mít'a's the brains in our gang.

As long as I can remember
he's always got As.

Good, Bureš. Come on, Kubíček.

Apart from PE, of course.

You're a lost cause.

No one ever saw him studying. Not
even his grandma. He lives with her

because his parents escaped and
Mít'a's stuck here with his grandma

in this communist reservation.

Mít'a's grandma comes from Russia.

His granddad was rich and he brought
her here, it was all a long time ago.

They used to live
in one of the houses

me and my parents
would go and look at.

And now they've ended up
in a decrepit little house.

Hello.

Mít'a thinks the communists will let
him go and stay with his parents.

They're famous opera singers.
Mít'a's a musical genius too.

He's composed three symphonies
and a million shorter pieces.

So it's okay that he
doesn't like rock music,

apart from some of Zappa's stuff.

He's got a Russian name, Dimitri,
apparently after Shostakovich.

And that's me. My name's Petr,
but everyone calls me Frog.

Probably because
I've got a big mouth.

- I'd sooner they called me Jagger.
- All right, isn't it?

I'm wearing
my brand new jeans.

Me and my mum had to stand in a
queue about ten miles long for them.

Want any coupons?

Yes, I do.

For 6.50, okay.

How many?

A hundred?

A hundred? For jeans?
That won't be enough. 150, okay?

And last night my mum
ironed creases in them.

When I put them on this morning
I thought I'd shit myself.

Mum.

I just ironed them a bit,
as you've got that ceremony today.

I don't know if it's a good idea to
wear jeans to get your identity card

You'll only draw
attention to yourself.

But dad, jeans are the uniform
of the oppressed working class.

- The American working class.
- That's right, cowboys.

How about these then?
They're kind of sporty.

But Mum, I don't wear
that that terylene shit.

I'm sorry. I didn't want
to get anyone's back up.

- Here are your elevenses, Matěj.
- Thanks.

Pioneers - welcome. Now you can take
your place alongside us,

who already have identity cards.

This is an important day
in the life of every citizen.

Carry your identity cards with
pride, and not in your back pockets!

As people often do.

Guard them with your lives, because
it's the most important document

our socialist state can give you,

and its defacement is... what?

- Punishable.
- With the death sentence.

That's right! Punishable.

You're Czechs,
and you can be proud of that.

This card is proof
that you're Czechs!

Don't forget that
in some imperialist countries

Czech and gipsy are synonyms.

Luckily the Soviet Union can
tell the world who we Czechs are.

And Slovaks.

And Slovaks too, of course!

And now - come up here
one by one in alphabetical order

to receive your identity cards.

Microphone, please, comrade.

Thank you.

Albrecht Petr...

Don't forget. Like I showed you.
Press with your thumb and squeeze.

Fikotová Zdenka.

Hájek Petr.

Hánová Květa.

Holubová Zdenka.

Jehlička Václav.

Jirásková Eva.

Jirza Leopold.

Jižanová Radka.

Johanová Anežka.

Juráček Zdeněk.

Kaplanová Adéla.

Kapoun Ondřej.

Kolona Václav.

Kovanda Aleš.

Kubíček Di mitri.

I thought the police
were all looking at us.

I wanted to shout out: It
wasn't my idea! It was Cinderella's!

It was clear we'd have
nothing but trouble from that lot.

The way they looked at us
was a declaration of war,

right from day one.

Nečas Martin.

Right, watch this.
Everyone turn to page 15

- and tear it out.
- What? - Why?

It's going to be
the Communist Party's 15th congress

and it means you don't agree
with the regime.

Where did you hear that?

- Everyone knows.
- Then the police do too, don't they?

I'll do it just because of what
those bastards did to my dad.

Because of your dad, yeah?

He's always hitting you.
You've shown us the marks.

He isn't a dad, he's a bone crusher.
Those are your very words.

Everyone. All my brother's
friends have torn out page 15.

Hang on,
you mean the Čamboras too?

Them? They were the first.
They invented it, see?

Tore it out or ripped it?

Well maybe some of them just
ripped it. I think it's enough.

- Everyone in favour?
- Yeah.

- That was a close thing today!
- Too right.

We'll drink to that! And to
Lenka Pivoňková, our good fairy.

Comrade, come here.

Some of those rascals
have bruised my son's hand.

Those four over there, the one
in the glasses and the others.

They deliberately crushed my hand.
I want an explanation, comrade.

Comrades,
there must be some mistake.

- There's no mistake.
- Deliberately.

The boys must have been so excited

that they went a bit
too far with their warm handshakes.

Well, you may be right, comrade.

I thought I was going to hit him,
the way he was looking at her tits.

The best tits
in Central Europe and beyond

and you have to sit and watch the
police drooling over them. Gross!

- The second best!
- Yeah? Who's got the best then?

Fikotová in class C, I reckon.

Fikotová's may be impressive
in terms of size, that's true,

but it's a matter of shape,
structure, composition.

Hey, I'll respond with a poem.

- What?
- A poem.

Where are you writing it? You know
what'll happen if they find out?

The thing is I'm in love
with Zdenka Fikotová.

She's not too bright, but doesn't
even a dumb girl deserve m y love?

These office parties
will be the death of me.

I'm going to the bathroom.

Aren't you asleep yet?

What are you reading?

Dad, can I go for a pee?

Go on.

- Who wrote this?
- No one.

Boys, that business
with the police yesterday:

That wasn't the first time
I've stuck my neck out for you.

But I very much hope
it'll be the last.

Sorry.

You won't get anywhere
without a good school report.

It's parents' evening tonight, should
I bring this up with your parents?

No, you don't have to do that.

Very well then.

Go back to your classroom.

Goodbye miss.

Or hang on...

Do a new wall display.

Here's something for inspiration.

Let's put Deep Purple here.

And one of their fans.

Or the Soya Space Programme.

Shit.

Shit!

What is it?

I got my poems mixed up. Shit.

You're kidding.

- Who's that over there?
- Pleased to meet you, headmistress.

I've been looking forward
to attending this school.

- I'll show Daniel to his classroom.
- Thank you comrade.

Come on then.

Good morning.

- Heads or tails?
- Tails.

Heads goes to Matěj's class,
tails goes to Petr's.

Right, you've got Petr
and I've got Matěj.

- You've got out of it again.
- It's the luck of the draw.

- Hello boys.
- Hello.

He's got out of it again.

I don't know if he has.
I'm in trouble.

- Cheer your older brother up.
- We had a new boy at school today.

Write this down. Today's topic:

The Great October Socialist
Revolution,

25 October 1917.

Stand up.

Sit down.

Children, this is
your new classmate.

I'm sure you'll all
make him feel welcome.

When I saw him I realised
I'd already seen him somewhere.

Some time ago I went to buy some
valves and patches for inner tubes.

And he was there too.

Right, you hold the bike and
I'll just check the tyres, okay?

I have to look at the brakes too,
better safe than sorry.

The brakes are okay but
I'll take a look at the gears.

No, you can't get on now!
Get off! Do you understand? Off!

Christ! Watch what you're doing!

I have to make sure everything's
according to the regulations.

Danny! Get off... Christ!

My name is Daniel Pačes
and I'm your new classmate.

Later, when we get to know
each other better,

some of you can call me Danny.

Up yours, Danny!

- Who said that?
- Hájek!

Come with me to my office!

Stand up.

Sit down.

- Can you believe it? Later?!
- And some of you!

The fee doesn't apply to those of
you who aren't members of the PTA,

like you, Mrs Kubíčková,
or you, Mr Jehlička.

Excuse me for interrupting, comrade,

but this is a serious matter
that concerns your class.

Please, go on.

My name's Fikota.

One of your pupils
gave this to my daughter in 9C.

Well, they're not exactly love poems
but they're not without talent.

I'll have a word with them.

Look here, my daughter read them
and I'm not very happy about it.

I think they're vulgar and if
whoever wrote them doesn't get

an exemplary punishment I'll be
obliged to inform your superior.

And what kind of punishment
do you suggest, Mr Fikota?

What kind?
The most severe possible.

And that is?

That's up to you. I'd give
the hooligan a C for conduct.

You can rest assured
that I'll make sure

the culprit is punished severely.

Comrade,

your tolerant attitude is
inappropriate

and you may regret it.

I won't let this matter rest here.

Look, Mr Fikota,
this is the ninth grade.

Do you consider it appropriate
that you bath with your daughter?

Let's speak about grades.

Tell me what was in the notebook.

- You take out the rubbish tomorrow.
- Okay. So what was it?

Frotteurism?
What on earth is frotteurism?

I had to look it up
in the dictionary.

It's a sexual perversion. Frotteurs
achieve sexual gratification

by rubbing themselves
against people.

Listen: The trams are packed
And the frotteurs have attacked

People squeezed close together
Give them the greatest pleasure

And therefore don't be afraid
They'd ever miss the May Day Parade

Do you know any more?

He wrote poems about all of them.
Almost fifty in total.

There are
that many kinds of perverts?

Night in the village -
hear the dogs howl!

Pederasts are on the prowl

Here's a boy from the
Socialist Youth Association

What awaits him? Defloration!

- What are you going to do with it?
- Nothing.

I'll keep it.

I wouldn't do that. If anyone
finds it you're done for.

- Who wrote it anyway?
- How should I know?

I found it in the labs.

What are you laughing at?

Come with me.
We've just come from your school.

Oh, okay then.

Let me ask you this:

Do you want
to continue your studies?

Or will you be satisfied cleaning
toilets? What good would that do?

And why do you two
keep getting into trouble?

Matěj, why are you
picking on the new boy?

Do you think that makes you
a hero, picking on the weakest?

It's cowardice. And what's more: Do
you know what family he comes from?

And you can stop laughing.

You and your gang.
You're all dangling by a thread.

I hope at least it's not you
writing those wretched, crude poems.

But he's improved in Russian.

Now he's good. Just good.
Some people are satisfied with a C.

People who don't aim any higher.
People who are just average.

It's good enough for the
language of the oppressors.

Do you want Matěj to repeat
something like that at school?!

But dad, I know what's what.
I'm not five years old.

Why keep provoking your teachers?
Do you want to get into trouble?

The main thing is that
you don't want any trouble.

And what good
would provoking them do?

There have been plenty
of brave men just like you.

Boiler rooms, prisons
and mines are full of them.

It's not just about you now,
it's about all of us.

Matěj, your mother and me.

- Here we go again. - Meaning?
- Meaning it's all about you.

Just listen to him! And I'd
planned a surprise for you all!

What's in the envelope, dad?

- You're not interested? - In what?
- In what's in the envelope.

What is it?

It's an exit visa.

That means we can all go to the
seaside this summer. To Yugoslavia.

- That doesn't make you happy?
- Who, me? - I'm talking to you.

If you don't want to come with us,
you can stay with your aunt.

With our aunt? Come on, Petr!
The seaside or a concentration camp?

- Sure, but at what price?
- What was that? - Nothing.

- What time should I wake you up?
- Never.

Mirek... Let me have a look.

...dvadcatyj,

tridcatyj

and... fortieth.

- Hájek?
- Chetcatyj?

No, that's wrong. Sorokovoj.
So. Ro. Ko. Voj.

Sit down.

Can I have a word, please?

All right, copy down
the rest from the blackboard.

And I don't want you
to make a sound.

Danny, come up to the blackboard.

You make sure no one makes a sound
until I get back, all right?

And if anyone makes any noise write
their names down on the blackboard

and I'll deal with them later. I
want absolute silence, is that clear?

I'll smack your bare bottom.

No, daddy, no.
Don't smack me. No, no, no.

Karel, lock the door!

We've got thirteen and
a half minutes till the bell goes.

- Nine's our record.
- Right. Come on. - Karel!

Karel...

Wait...

...Oh, that's good...

Right then! You can go now. And
tomorrow I'll check your work, okay?

- One moment, comrade.
- What is it?

Nováková threw
a paper plane at Blažek.

Svoboda threw
a piece of paper at Novák.

Držková and Svobodová
threw things at each other.

Dvořáková threw
a piece of paper at Hájek.

Hájek fought Klíma.

Klíma and Svobodová
fought with rulers.

Svobodová threw a pen at Vodičková.
She threw it back at Svobodová.

Svobodová also
threw things at Nováková.

Nováková threw
a piece of paper at Husáková.

Husáková threw
a paper plane at Klíma.

It looked like miss was crying
with her legs up in the air.

And what were you doing
all alone in the gym?

I was waiting for my sister,
w e have to walk home together.

Girls, what happened
shouldn't have happened

and can't be allowed to happen.
But listen carefully now:

If anyone hears about this there'll
be terrible, terrible trouble.

You've no idea.

People will lose their jobs.
Other teachers will come here.

The kind of teachers
that no school wants.

Nasty, spiteful teachers
who nobody likes.

And we don't want that, do we?

I'm glad you came
to see me about this,

but now we have to promise that this
won't go any further than here. Ever.

Promise?

We promise.

You've got visitors?

No. Come on, girls.

Shut the door.

Is anything the matter?

Come in.

Take a seat, Lenka.

The author forgot to sign it.

But what matters is what it says,
right? A pack of disgusting lies.

It's surely beneath us to take
any notice of anonymous letters.

In other words you believe
that I, the Deputy Head,

and comrade Stejskalová here had -
in the middle of lessons -

sexual intercourse
on a pile of mats in the gym?

- I said nothing of the kind, Karel.
- But that's what it says here.

I didn't write that.

If you don't believe it then why did
you call your pupils into your study

lock the door and make them
promise to keep quiet?

That rather indicates the opposite.

It suggests you're willing
to listen to that kind of talk

and shield the perpetrators. Those
who've been spreading obscene lies!

Lenka, why didn't you come to see me
the moment you heard about this?

We could have nipped the whole
matter in the bud there and then.

That was a mistake. I was worried.
I didn't want there to be a scandal.

Brilliant! I'm walking
down the corridor

and I can hear them all
laughing at me behind my back.

They're sending the inspectors here.

The police will look at
whether the children's morals

have been corrupted.
And you didn't want a scandal?!

I've protected you, and believe me
it hasn't always been easy.

And now all I get from you
are secrets and half-truths.

What secrets are you talking about?

Do you recognise this?

I'll pick one at random.

Report on a Visit by a
Delegation from Mongolia:

We get all sorts
Of foreign delegations

Now you've come out of your yurts
For Communist Party celebrations

I deliberately chose one that
didn't have a vulgar subtext,

just a clearly antisocial one.

Why are you so anxious
to protect the author of this filth?

What are yurts, comrades?

Yurts are portable dwellings
used by our comrades in Mongolia.

Can you imagine what would
happen to the staff here

if the inspectors and the police
were to discover that our teachers

are concealing these kind of
anti-socialist tendencies

- among the pupils?
- And that they're amused by t hem?!

What do you expect?
She supports General Franco!

That's right,
that's what she wrote in her file.

Excuse me?

She supports General Franco?

Our comrade means I'm a francophone.
I wrote that I speak French.

Let's not get sidetracked.

Tell me, Lenka,
after all these revelations

can I rely
on your loyalty to this school?

Of course.

Then will you please
tell me who wrote this?

Because if you don't, we won' t be
able to punish the culprit.

And tomorrow
we'll get another letter,

which the author will copy
to the relevant authorities.

This is our last chance to avoid
the worst possible outcome.

And it's your last chance too.
Which side are you on?

I'm waiting, Lenka.

I don't know, Vlasta.
I don't know who wrote it.

- I found it in the laboratories.
- I told you to throw it away.

Be quiet. Why did you hide it?

You forgot to say that it was
in a locked drawer in my desk.

Really!

What were you thinking, Lenka?

I didn't want anyone
to get into trouble.

But now you've hurt everyone.
And most of all yourself.

May I?

Four girls and two boys

skipped down the lane.

No dad, no mum,

just us in the rain.

And six kittens
wearing mittens,

who stopped by the gate
at number eight.

Adélka Fikotová
taught me that rhyme.

I think it's their phone number.

Perhaps you'll find the author
of these anonymous letters there.

That's too much. Write this down.

Record of disciplinary proceedings
concerning comrade Lenka Pivoňková

on 14 March 1975.

Heading.

I had a chest infection
so I was at home for a few days.

When I went back to school
everything had changed.

They said the headmistress
had fired Miss Pivoňková

and she'd had a breakdown. And then
something unbelievable happened.

The girls who got her into trouble
started a campaign for her

to get her job back.

Everyone in favour had to wear
a flower, ideally a peony.

Who gave you this?!
Who gave you this?!

Don't try to stop me!
Give me that! Stop hiding that!

Give that here! Who told you
to do this?! Who gave you this?!

Get to your classrooms!
What's this?!

In a country where snitches rule
nothing stays secret for long,

and we soon found out
what had really happened,

and that the girls
had kept their promise.

Good afternoon.

And the reason...

- Are you going to tell me or not?!
...why their dad questioned them.

Out with it!

Our class even went on hunger strike

which of course didn't last long.

I'll kill that bastard Pačes.

Forget about it.

Let's have a sniff.

I've got it all planned. That little
prick rides his bike to school

and where he comes out
from behind the gym

he always goes
through the gate really fast.

I'll stretch out a piece of fishing
line between the gateposts

and he'll break his neck.

What if someone else
rides through there?

Or that runner who came
to talk to us at school?

I didn't think we'd buried
this bottle so well.

- Here.
- Give me that.

The main thing is
you take good care of my LPs.

No problem, don't worry about it.

You can keep this hat
to remember mum by.

Thanks.

Go on then. Vendulka
and me need to say goodbye.

But I'm Marcelka.

I know.

And what do think I can do?

You work with them, don't you?
Communists.

You could speak up for her. Dad?

All that would happen is
I'd draw attention to myself

and that wouldn't help her.

But Mirek, I think you could
put in good word for her.

Not you as well! I don't need
any attention right now.

There's a shortage of teachers,
she can get a job somewhere else.

Okay then. Sorry.

Petr!

Petr, hang on. Believe me.

- If I thought there was any chance.
- You'd only have to mention it, dad

Me alone? A voice crying
out in the wilderness?

- Cinderella's dad did!
- He's a dustman. Who else?

Right, so you see then.

Petr, your father means well.

And if your teacher was
here now she'd say the same.

Just forget about it.

We're playing Russia today.

Jiří Holeček, the best goalkeeper
in four world championships...

This could be Holeček's
last championship.

Yours too.

What did you say?!
Did you hear that?!

What did you say?

Yours too! Yours too!
I heard you loud and clear.

How am I supposed
to watch this now?

Good evening, miss...
We've come to see you.

Well, I wasn't expecting this.
Anyway, come in boys, come in.

Come in.

I wasn't expecting anyone. Have
a seat. Would you like coffee?

Or I've got some lemonade here.
I'm afraid it's a bit of a mess.

You haven't seen our place. My dad
brings his work home with him.

I'll put the kettle on.

Who's that guy on the wall,
miss? Your boyfriend?

I wish. That's Jacques Brel,
a French poet and songwriter.

I learnt French because of him,
so I could understood his poems.

You see? Poets have the edge here.

I'll make some coffee
and then put on some Brel.

I've got loads of records
from my friend in Canada.

- Who's going to give it to her?
- It was my idea

I'll give it to her.
You do the talking.

What are you whispering about?

Us? We... we're really sorry
about what happened, miss.

- We still really like you.
- We love you.

We're really pissed off
about what they did to you.

- Now look what you've made me do.
- Oh no, don't cry miss.

- We...
- We brought this for you.

Although they're not
exactly French chansons.

- But it's fantastic music.
- Really groovy.

This is you four?

Not exactly,
but you might like it.

Thank you. This must have been
hard to find. We can put it on.

Come on.

Well, all the best, boys, and I hope
your entrance exams turn out well.

- Thank you.
- We'll come again sometime.

- Goodnight.
- Bye.

We screwed that up. We should have
given her Pink Floyd, or Led Zep...

- Did you forget something, Aleš?
- This is for you.

Yeah but you said she was new
to this, that we have to go slowly

so she can get used to it,
isn't unnerved by it.

Yeah, but she's worldly,
more than anyone would think.

The Doors or the Stones.

Or Jethro Tull.

- My dad will kill me.
- It's called The Holidays are Over.

What do you mean, over?
The holidays have just begun.

Yes! 2:1

That's the poet's lot, to see the
darkness behind the light. Listen:

The holidays are almost over
And the blackberries are glistening

Two boys by the railway line:

What's that?
But they're not listening

Hear the train hoot
As they pick the sweet fruit

The train kills them in an instant

Their holidays
are now quite different

- You're mad.
- You gaze sadly at the track

And know they won't be coming back

But here's
one source of consolation:

It's also the end of their education

And I was wondering
how you'd managed to fill a notebook

with love poems
for Miss Pivoňková overnight.

And now I understand:
You're a genius.

You're wrong. I spent a whole year
writing those poems for Fikotová.

- What's this?
- Poems.

And then I gave her
the other book by mistake.

So I changed the name
from Zdenka to Lenka.

- You cheated?
- I saw the light.

Die, snitch!

- Where are you gong on holiday?
- Jáchymov, the uranium mines.

How about you, Frog?

This is a nice start
to the holidays.

Come here!

Your IDs.

Next.

Well, well, well.

What's happened to page 15?

It looks like an epidemic.

- And where's yours?
- I left it at home.

- You did what?
- I must have left it at home.

At home. Right, you can all
come along with me. Come on!

Get on the pavement!

- What are they going to do with us?
- Don't talk now.

I should have been home an hour ago.

So page 15 got torn
by mistake, did it?

And in this one too
and this one as well!

Stand facing the wall
and don't say another word!

Next. You then.

Come on, come on.

Sit down.

Your initials?

- What?
- Your initials.

P H.

- What do you mean, P H?
- You asked for my initials.

Right, out with them then. Name,
address, date of birth, come on!

Petr Hájek...

- Address?
- Ždanova 8. - Hang on...

- Okay.
- November 6th, 1959.

...1959, right.

So what happened to page 15 then?

It was probably just an accident.
Here, and here,

and here too.

I asked you something.

- What?
- I'll give you what!

- I ask the question here!
- Sorry, what?

Listen, you scum, say "what" one
more time and you're in for it.

Think carefully now.

I'm waiting.

But what do you want me to say?

I must be dreaming.

Go and stand over there!

Get the next one, Staník.

Dad, I haven't eaten yet.

Right, you then. Come on.

Pick up the chair and sit down.

Oh, you've found it. That's good.

What's this?

- A poem.
- A poem.

Listen.

About a Girl:

Getting Ds at school
Is probably for the best

Especially considering
You've got them on your chest

So you think this belongs in your
identity card? On the page that says

"Confirmation of acceptance,
employment and dismissal"?!

What are you sniggering at?!
You want some more?!

No. I'm not laughing at you comrade,
it's just that poem about Fikotová.

I'm sorry but I have to go home. My
grandma will be worried about me.

It's already quite late.
And I have to go to the toilet.

Get out and wait to be called!

- Did you ever seen the like?
- I'm sorry, comrade.

You're sorry? You're not
sorry enough. But you will be!

Because on this here page,
where you wrote this filth,

should be the stamp
of the school you're going to!

And you can forget about that!

All of you standing here -
your studies are over.

We know very well what it means
when you tear page 15.

You're enemies of socialism!

Come in!

Inspector, Constable Rusňák
reporting for duty.

Come in, Rusňák. You'll get
your uniform. You can finish this.

You - come with me.

We haven't finished with you yet,
you can be sure of that.

Write it up, Staník,
and throw them out.

I don't want these heroes wetting
themselves. I'll go and get h is kit.

Here.

I'll have a word with the captain.

He's got a bit of a temper but
basically he's a reasonable man.

Here, let's shake hands on it.

- Hey, I have to go. See you.
- See you.

Someone must have taken
my ID in school.

It must have been
Daniel Pačes. Who else?

And did you notice how his dad
called that old cop dad?

Yeah, a whole family of cops.
I bet his grandma's in it too!

Let's go then.

It just goes to show
that being a cop is

a matter of character,
not vocation.

Sorry, granny.

- Sorry.
- Dimitri, you've got no sense.

I'll write to your mum about this,
you can be sure of that.

Come here.
I was so worried about you.

Go on.

- Sorry, dad.
- What time do you call this?!

You're just as bad as the police!
They beat me up today too!

Christ! Get out!

We'll see how long it takes
before the police bring you back!

Financial results are something
quite different than a press release

Yes, I'll do it
tomorrow morning. Goodbye.

Very nice. Ds on her chest.

Listen, Villon, we'll say
you lost your ID

and we'll apply for a new one. And
I'll sort things out with the police

Thanks.

Thanks, dad.

Thanks, dad.

Don't worry.

You don't want this?

And get your hair trimmed.

...I don't believe it...

a bit more... that's it.

Where have you been!
When are you going to pack?!

- Where should I put the biscuits?
- Here. Come here! Come here!

There's a bag and clean clothes
for you up there and pack this too.

And your dinner will be cold by now.

And don't forget
my goggles and the, the...

On your way then?
I bet you're looking forward to it.

I'd sooner stay at home.
It's a long way.

Mirek's never driven
further than Kařízek.

It'll be all right.

- Have you got my snorkel?
- Yes, get in the car now.

Can you get it on the other side?
So it doesn't take my eye out. Here.

Have you got enough room?
There was no more space in the boot.

Here. Right.

Car keys.

Get in now.

- Have we got everything?
- Yes.

Passport s.

- Here.
- Money? - Yes.

- Exit visa? - Yes.
- Customs declaration. - Yes.

- Military service record.
- We handed it in.

- IDs? - At home in the desk.
- I've got mine here.

Were you listening?

Didn't I tell you a thousand times
that your ID has to stay behind?

You know they could turn us back at
the border because of you?! Go on.

Can I have the keys, mum?

Idiot. You'd think
we were punishing him.

No thanks, it's too hot.

Anyone want some chicken?

I'd sooner be with our aunt.

- What do you think it'll be like?
- Great, won't it?

Don't get crumbs everywhere.
We can stop somewhere to eat.

Who do you think
I'm doing all this for? For myself?

Look at me when I'm talking to you!
You think I'm doing this for myself?

- I don't know.
- You don't know.

Just look around you. Who'd get
a chance like this these days?

Name me one friend of yours
who'd get a chance like this today.

Exactly.

H e's looking forward it. Petr, tell
him you're looking forward to it.

He's got itchy feet. We're not
used to travelling so far.

I t'd be better if he wasn't here.

He's got his ID now
and he can take care of himself.

Do you have any idea how much
I'm spending on all of you?

On us? On yourself, you mean!

You ungrateful wretch!

What did you say?

Is that any way to talk to your
father?! Who do you think you are?!

Mum, calm down.

You want to know what I think?
I'll tell you what I think:

I think dad's a coward
and a traitor!

And you can go to the
fucking seaside without me!

Stop!

Wait.

Come here!

It's hot.

Thanks. That's nice.

This'll take some time.

We can go now, boys.

Come on.

Okay.

It'll be our turn soon.

Good evening. Passport control.
Passports please.

- Here you are.
- Thank you.

Here, look at this.

Come with me sir.

No, get back in the car,
start the engine and follow me.

Oh, all right.

Get out.

All of you.

Take your things
out of the luggage compartment.

Here, take this.

One at a time, please.

Put your things on the table
for the customs inspection.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

- Mr...
- Hájek.

Come with me.

...I just...

So you're going on holiday?

Excuse me, can I get
these jackets for the children?

Go ahead.

Madam? Come with me please.

Wait outside, boys.

Someone must have turned us in

even though they'd tried
to keep it all a secret.

Or maybe they were just lucky,
or had good instincts.

They'd been trained.

What's this?

Very nice...

They took our luggage
and the car to pieces

and in the end they found what
they'd been looking for. Money...

Dad's degree certificate,
his thesis,

a recommendation in English
from Professor Wichterle,

an invitation from the University
of Minnesota and his research work.

Come with me please.

It was all hidden inside the
linings of our bags and suitcases,

which mum had stitched
back together,

and under the floor mats

and inside our boat.

They're going back.

Keep going.

Mirek...

Mirek!

Shit.

What'll become of us now?!
What the hell am I supposed to do?!

Fuck!

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Oh God...

...we're fucked.

Everything's fucked.
This is the end.

Oh God.

And so thanks to fate and
the police my wish came true.

We didn't go anywhere.

G et your hand off your cock
and show me your ID!

Frog?! No way!
What are you doing here?!

Hey!

Wait, I've got something here.
We have to celebrate!

There are exactly two.

- Male or female?
- Female.

When we were leaving
I wished I didn't have a father,

like Mít'a or Aleš.

And now I was worried
about him and it was too late.

- That's too bad. How did it happen?
- They interrogated him.

They wanted him to sign something
to say he'd cooperate,

otherwise he'd go to prison
and we'd have to leave school.

It happened during
the third interrogation.

I know you've told us, but
we want to hear it one more time.

All right. So we were all going
to Yugoslavia for a holiday...

Apparently it lasted ten hours
and eight of them took turns.

...my two sons and my wife...

And then he collapsed.

High blood pressure
runs in the family.

As long as I can remember
my dad's always taken pills for it.

And how's he doing now?

But if he's faking it then
he's a genius. An absolute genius.

Can he feel anything?

- Yeah, a bit.
- And can he talk?

That's fucked up, then.

- You know what?
- What?

I'd soon have
a bone crusher than this.

Yeah.

I think I'll grow my hair
really long now.

Makes sense.

We're out of beer.
Let's go to our place

and we can get cold beer from the
fridge and put some music on, okay?

What about your dad?

He'll understand.
He isn't a complete idiot.

I have to go home anyway, I'm skint.

- Thanks.
- Sure.

Sorry, brother. You're
in some army shithole in Slovakia

and we're listening to your precious
records and having a great time.

- We need a woman here!
- Too right.

Cinderella didn't get into
the secondary school he wanted

so he went to a school
for gardeners instead.

Come on, I'll show you around.
There, that's a flower.

Come on, you can keep your shoes on.
This a plant with long leaves.

Now we go to the left.

They didn't accept Mít'a
at the conservatory.

And because of
our trip to Yugoslavia

they expelled me from the grammar
school before I'd even started there

And this here is a slimy root.
Hand me that liana there.

In the end the only one who went
to grammar school was Aleš.

Isn't it lovely here? They can
stick their education up their arse.

I became an apprentice printer.
And Mít'a became a postman.

His round included
the house where he'd once lived.

...here... right...

What do you want?!

Shh. So you don't frighten them.

Isn't that a fine crop?

What is it, boys?
Come to give us a hand?

Come on girls, keep working,
there aren't any boys here!

You think my dad would be home
before the pubs close? Not likely.

- Is this fish still alive?
- Yeah, sure it is.

Is there someone here?

Hey, what are you doing here?

Take my jeans off, you cunt.

Right, sure.

I didn't know you'd got
leave and mine are in the wash.

- And where are my Stones?
- What?

Where are my Rolling Stones,
you cunt?!

Sorry, I lent them to Aleš,

but he's got a perfect record player
and he won't scratch them.

You're fucking dead. Got it?
Who said you could wear my stuff?!

And who said you could lend
my Stones to this Bolshevik cunt?!

- I'll get them.
- Go fuck yourself!

My train's leaving in one hour

so I'll be back in the
fucking barracks by midnight!

After a whole year
I get one day's leave

and don't think I came here
to see you! Fuck that!

The whole time I was in that
shithole all I could think about was

how I'd sit here in my jeans,
getting pissed

and listening to the Stones.
Where are my Stones, you cunt!

But I didn't know you were coming!

Come on then!
Come on... who's first?

Where are my Stones?!

We had to make do.

We lost our old flat
and had to move into a tiny one

with just two rooms.

We lived off my dad's
miniscule disability pension.

They allowed mum to work

as a dishwasher at the
Trade Union Headquarters

and in the evening she made nylon
rugs and blankets for the neighbours

Where are you going?

To see the guys.

To the pub?

Maybe.

Have you taken your dad out today?

Just look at the weather, mum.

Take him out for a beer.
He hasn't been anywhere in ages.

Mum, the guys will be there, they
want to talk about girls and music.

Exactly. He registers everything
and it helps him.

He needs to have
people around him. Come on.

Mirek? You can go out for a bit.

Come on then, dad. Get up.

Come on.

Come on, Petr will take you
out for a bit. For some company.

Okay?

Come on.

You can have a beer together.

Jarda, what's this?

Sorry lads, but you're sixteen and
the police were here on Saturday.

Hey.

What's up?

You don't need to whisper. He
doesn't mind. What's this shit?

Jarda had the police here on
Saturday and he's shit-scared.

- What's up with him?
- That's normal.

Do you think he can hear?
Shall I try some music?

- Maybe, give it a go.
- What kind of music?

Not The Doors, that's for sure. And
don't drink that, you'll be sick.

- What does he like?
- How should I know? Smetana?

So we've got to wait
until you take him back?

Here's to you, Mr Hájek!

Thanks.

Drinks like a fish, doesn't he?

- Be careful now.
- Sure, thanks.

Two beers, Jarda!

Good morning blues...

Eleven...

...how do you do? -
good morning blues, how do you...

Hello there lads.

Is this free?

So, how are things going?

Crap, right?

He's had enough, hasn't he?

But why not.

Can I buy you a drink, lads?

What are you drinking?

I'm having a vodka. Aren't I, Jarda?

Five vodkas.

We'll be on our way.
I have to take my dad home.

Hang on, that's your dad?

I didn't know. Sorry.
Hang on, lads. Sit down. Wait.

Water under the bridge
and all that, all right?

...the sweet Lord loves me...

They busted my dad too. Yesterday.

There's something
we need to straighten out.

Read this document, comrade,
and sign here.

It's important
and strictly confidential.

Here's to our fathers, lads.

So what did your dad do?

Nothing.
But he couldn't read or write.

What?!

That's right. And no one would have
known if someone hadn't snitched.

You understand? Snitched!

I can't see too well
and I haven't got my glasses.

Can you read it to me, comrade?

Here, take a pair.

I really can't see too well.
I've got a lazy eye.

Comrade, I could...

You stay where you are.

But how did he get away with it?

He must have signed
tons of paperwork every day.

He knew how to sign his name.
Just a scribble, that was all.

And he was a major?!

Lads, I'm worried about him.
I'm worried he'll shoot himself.

- Bollocks, he'll find something else
- Sure. With his qualifications.

Let's have another vodka. Okay?

Do you want to go now, dad?

We'll give you a hand.
It's icy outside...

Yeah.

...don't touch my sombrero,
oh no - don't touch my sombrero,

oh no - don't touch my sombrero -
or I'll have your balls, oh -

Let's go, dad.

I was waiting there
from six in the morning.

Queuing for meat from 6 o'clock.
I was the second in line.

They always bring the meat on
Thursday morning, so I got up early

so I'd be there on time to get some
beef to cook with dill sauce,

the way you like it. And in front
of me there was this Russian woman.

What have you got today?
What's nice and fresh?

- And she started buying everything.
- How much? - Two pieces,

- those knees.
- Everything there was...

And that pork belly, all of it.

So I asked her
what we were going to eat.

We'll teach you to eat grass.

We'll teach you to eat grass.

To eat grass. Honestly.

Then a woman at the back said:

I'll go and tell someone about this

and you'll see what's what!

I'll go and tell someone about this.

Good night, Mirek.

So I'll make the dill sauce tomorrow
with a stock cube and eggs.

I like it better that way.

Mirek?

Did you say something?

Let them snitch.
It's better with egg anyway.

Mirek.

Come on, boys, quickly.
Your dad can talk!

Matěj, get up, hurry. Come on.

What did he say?

Mirek, tell the boys
what you told me.

Tell them.

- You probably just dreamt it, mum.
- I heard him loud and clear.

And what did he say?

He said he likes
dill sauce with egg.

That was it? Nothing else?

Good night, mum.

Good night.

Everyone knows it's
Perfect weather for tits

In Prague, Vienna, Paris and Rome

The girls all leave
their bras at home

They don't wear anything
under their shirts

Some don't wear anything
under their skirts

So when it's hot, humid and hazy
Our hormones start going crazy

- It's Paris, not Madrid.
- Hey! - Same difference.

- What have you got there?
- Moles.

I'm supposed to kill them
because they're pests,

but I've got something better
in mind for them this evening.

Kolya, Vasile, Petr! Come here!
How could this have happened?

Where have these molehills come
from? Quick, quick get rid of them!

So, comrades, we have
to set out our priorities.

I think our long-term
objectives are clear.

We have to get medical exemptions
to get out of the army,

which would be the death of us.

And now our medium-term goals.

I got this
from the younger Čambora brother.

It was a hell of a job
persuading him.

- Who are these guys?
- Those are the Plastic People.

They've got a secret concert
in Adolfov next Sunday.

No one who's not completely sound
has a hope of getting in.

- You're coming too, aren't you?
- You bet.

It'll be one big party.
Fireworks, the lot.

And now our short-term goals.

Follow me, comrades. Let's go.

Three, four.

Happy birthday!
White tennis shoes...

...And an LP by
Janis Joplin, whose...

...Songs make us dance

around the room

We dance here
where the flowers bloom

And it makes us feel so fine

Two guys delivering a kitchen sink

They pause on the stairs
to have a drink

The day's hot
and the sink's too heavy

If they don't hurry dinner
will never be ready

And that's too bad

That's just too bad

Have you got another bottle?

Come and get it.

You there! Shut those windows!

Hey, dad, you've got a beer.

Dad, you've got a beer,
want a drink?

Want a drink, dad?

May I?

Oh... Čambora! Hi!

Sure, go ahead.

This is Čambora.

How's he doing?

Okay, I think.

- Does he know we're here?
- Yeah, sort of.

Have one on me.

Can I have a look?

Go ahead.

Where's your brother?

- He got out.
- Got out?

Pink Floyd.

Wish You Were Here.

Cheers?

You went to see the Plastics?

Yeah, and I wasn't the only one.
And I've got a cut here too.

Where did they get you?
At the station or outside the pub?

At the station, in the underpass.

I was in luck.
I went to Adolfov on my motorbike

and when I got closer to the pub it
all kicked off. It was a massacre.

Policemen, truncheons,
people bleeding.

- I turned around and got out.
- You were lucky then.

Are you sure he can't hear us?

He probably can, but don't worry:
My dad's as silent as the grave.

Listen, I'm not staying here. I'm
going to Munich, like my brother.

Life's too short to stick around
in this Bolshevik shithole.

It didn't work out for us.

I heard about that.

And what are you
doing now? Labourer?

No, I'm learning
to be a printer. How about you?

Geodesy. Stagehand in Kladno.

Fuck. That'll be me a year from now.

Forget about it.

Let's have a rum.

- We swear!
- Hey comrades!

That's Čambora.
I told you about him.

Jarda! Turn this shit off.

- No problem.
- Two rums, please.

These aren't my keys.

We can't get in, dad.
We haven't got the keys.

Lieutenant Marek Čambora

CZECHOSLOVAK POLICE

What are you dong here?

Mirek, just look at yourself! Have
you gone mad? Where are your keys?!

Come on.

For God's sake.

Stand up.

Thanks Petr, well done.

Once wasn't enough, was it?

You're not coming?

I'll wait here for them
to bring me my keys.

- They'll bring them.
- Who are they? - Just they.

Let's go.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Come in. Did anyone see you?

No. It's nice and warm here.

Come in.

This is great.
And we've got fish too.

So, merry Christmas.

Take your coat off.

It's a shame you have
to go home for Christmas.

You could have come with us
to midnight mass tomorrow.

Take this and go
into the waiting room. Next.

That's a C.

Next, Václav Jehlička.

Is there a Jehlička here?!

What... what the hell
are you doing?!

Sorry, but whenever anyone
shouts at me I wet myself.

So with that and the Ferda the Ant
book I got a six-month deferral.

But if that nurse
had come just a little later

I'd have already pissed myself.
I had two beers.

You can laugh, but in six months
it'll be your turn.

Ludvík Prokeš sold his new scooter,

put the money in an envelope,
went to the doctor's and said:

Look, I don't want to join the army!

Good morning, doctor.

Wait a minute, please.

I'm Ludvík Prokeš and I really
don't want to join the army.

And the doctor looked at the money,
put it inside his coat and said:

- We'll see what we can do.
- He got a medical exemption.

That's just a fairy tale. I'd sooner
slit my wrists than join the army.

It's only two years.

How can you say that?!

Did you see my brother?! What
an arsehole they made of him?

That's two years
of your life wasted!

Two years of being messed around
by sadistic morons.

Two years with your head shaved!

Two years of brainwashing
and bullying, Frog!

- Don't call me Frog!
- Then stop talking bollocks!

None of us here will survive
one month, let alone two years,

and you say "It's only two years"?!

It's a matter of life and death

and we have to get out of it,
whatever it takes.

- One more.
- I can't.

- This is the last one.
- I've already had ten.

Okay, let's go.

Hey, what's wrong?!

I can't do it. I'm a poet,
not an executioner.

Shut up and stamp on my arm!

Where are you going?!

Someone's here!

Fuck that! Rimbaud put vitriol in
Verlaine's beer, so come on, do it!

- But that was out of love!
- Yeah, and this is out of love too!

What are you two queers
doing in there?

- Go on.
- Fuck.

Fuck!

Go on!

Fuck it, stamp on my arm!

Go on!

It's only my left arm,
for fuck's sake.

Go on, stamp on it!

Fuck! Help!

Fuck, sorry!

Shut up! I'm going to faint!

Why did you move your arm?

Ow, my foot!

Sorry, it was a reflex.

You've got a visitor.

- Who?
- Some girl.

A girl? Now?

- Should I go out?
- Come off it.

Petr! Can you come here?

Hanka? Hi.

Hi.

- You know each other?
- A little...

What are you doing here?

Well, I was...
Can we go outside for a bit?

- Okay, I'll just get my jacket.
- Why not come in? - No, no...

No, no, we'll just... can you?

Come on, pick up your things
and come inside. Come on.

...All right...

Here, take your shoes off and
I'll find you some slippers.

Right, you can... here...
okay... here are the slippers.

Thanks.

Are you hungry? You must be.
I'll get you some goulash.

I'll put some on your plate.

Matěj, dinner's ready.
Bring a chair with you.

- Here, you can sit here.
- It's almost cold.

Dad, this is Hanka.

Good evening.

Did you hear, dad? Hanka!

Thanks.

They kicked me out
of school and the hostel too.

What? You said it would be okay.

It wasn't. I'm afraid to go home;
my dad will kill me.

So what will you do now?

I don't know.

You can't just go
wandering around Prague.

I know.

You should call your parents
so they're not worried about you.

They haven't got a phone.
They think I'm still in the hostel.

Hanka.

He has these moments now and then.

Oh, right.

And where will you sleep tonight?

I don't know.

- You can't sleep here.
- I know.

Just for tonight, mum.

- No.
- Mum...

All right.

Mirek?

Hanka.

- You mean...
- Hanka.

...she could?

Well I don't know, but if
it's all right with him then...

I could make up a bed
for you in the hall.

- Thanks very much.
- But only for tonight...

and tomorrow we'll call your parents
or let them know somehow...

To be on the safe side
I've locked the door.

I've got the keys.
I'll put them here.

In the morning she can go back
where she came from.

Let her stay here.

What?

You can't turn her back
at the border.

But Mirek, you can't be serious...

Quiet, don't wake them up.

So according to you it's all right
for a girl we don't know

to sleep here just like that?
Do you know what people will say?

What people?

What people?

Do you know
that your son's unhappy?

That he's afraid and he can't sleep?

Do you know that?

Go and get Petr for me.

Right now? You can't be serious.
And what's he afraid of?

The army.

I know, I know.

So go and get him for me.

Oh! What are you doing here?
Why aren't you asleep?

I need to go to the toilet.

It's here. And you need to
hold the handle down,

there's something wrong with it.

And don't make any noise so
you don't wake my husband up.

Petr. Petr, come on. Your dad
wants to tell you something.

Mirek.

Is that you, Petr?

I'm here, dad.

I like Hanka a lot. But you'll have
to let her parents know.

Sure. I will.

Sit down here.

Tomorrow you can go to see Professor
Špičák at the mental hospital.

- Me?
- Yes, you.

And what am I supposed to say?

That you're my son and you need
a medical exemption.

- That's it?
- No. Write down what I tell you

and make sure nobody sees you
give it to him.

Come here, closer.

Closer.

- I'm supposed to write that down?
- Exactly. Nothing else.

That'll do it.

And what'll happen?

Lt'll work.

Good night.

Good night, dad. Night, mum.

Night, Petr.

Good night.

- Night.
- Night, mum.

What did dad want?

I'll tell you later.

Later.

Go back to sleep.

- Bastard.
- Scumbag.

Moron.

Fuck off.

When I fell asleep that night
I didn't know that

Cinderella and his dad
were fixing the toilet

that a taxi driver
had brought back.

Try flushing it.

I didn't know that Aleš was getting
a cast on his broken ankle

and I didn't know that in the same
hospital, two floors down,

the doctors were trying to revive
Mít'a, who was frozen stiff.

I didn't know anything about
that the next morning either,

when I saw Hanka to the bus stop
on my way to see Professor Špičák

at the mental hospital and I found a
crumpled letter from Canada

in the letter box.

Let's go.

Mít'a never made it
out of the hospital.

And a few months later, when
it was clear he was going to die,

he finally got permission
to go and join his parents,

the famous opera singers.
But it was too late.

Thanks to Cinderella and the girls
from the gardening school

Mít'a probably had more flowers
at his funeral

than Klement Gottwald
or Jimi Hendrix.

Fate favours those
who are well prepared,

and each of us shapes
our own destiny.

Fate only allotted Dimitri,
a loving and much loved boy,

a very short life, and he died
before his 19th birthday.

He was a true representative of the
progressive younger generation.

He was denied the opportunity
to achieve his ambitions...

- Who is this moron?
...and his mission in life.

- What is this crap?!
...To develop his talent...

- Mít'a was a genius!
...and fully experience love...

The only thing he was denied was the
chance to study at the conservatory.

And if he'd gone there he'd be
here with us today, you idiot!

That only makes our final parting
today all the more painful...

Let me go!

And it's hard to find
words of condolence.

- I made a mess of that.
- It's okay.

The day after Mít'a's funeral
we saw Cinderella off on the train,

going to join the army in Slovakia.

We were friends for life.

- Hey.
- Aleš went to university

and then spent a year
in a cushy job in the army.

I got this in the mail last week.

He never stopped
writing poems for his friends.

- You're kidding! Miss Pivoňková?!
- Let's see.

And he was still crazy about her.

Isn't she beautiful?!

Read it.

Thanks for showing me the way.
Love, Lenka.

I spent five months on Professor
Špičák's ward for the mentally ill.

I was diagnosed
with situational psychosis

and I looked
after catatonic patients.

Mum, when will lunch be ready?

When your dad catches a fish.

I don't think
he'll catch anything.

Fancy a game of badminton?

Now?

Hey, what did dad tell
you to write down that time?

Remember, Bohumil?

That was it?

Yeah, and then just Mirek Hájek.

And that was enough for you
to get an exemption

so you didn't have to join the army?
- Yeah.

Hey, he's got one!

Dad, you've got a fish!

Lunch, boys!

Come on dad, it's time for lunch.

And we'd always wanted
to be in a band.

Translation
Adrian Dean

Subtitles
Anna Kareninová

Processed by
FILMPRINT s.r.o.