Original subtitles

National Film Archive presents

Film Studio Barrandov Bearer of the Order of Labor presents

Stories by Bohumil Hrabal

PEARLS OF THE DEEP

Screenplay

Cast: First story

Second story

Third story

Fourth story

Fifth story

Second Camera

Assistant Director Production Assistants

With the Collaboration of

Sound Edited by

Set Designer

Music by

Production Supervisor

Cinematography

Made by the creative team

MR. BALTAZAR'S DEATH

Directed by

I went to have a look at the archbishop's residence last year.

The garden was deserted, fallen leaves everywhere.

There was just an old woman sitting there munching on apples.

If only the dear deceased Archbishop Khon had seen that.

He would have gone at her and let her have it for not sweeping.

Harley-Davidson.

A 500?

750.

Date of manufacture: '44.

He used to be so nervy, especially when he was young.

Ever since he was shot by the forester, whose wife he had an affair with.

In the end, he moved with his lady housekeeper to Tirol,

to be nearer to heaven.

How could you abuse the car so terribly?

Just tell me how. - How?

As we were driving home at night, Slavek told me:

"Mother, we're still one death short, so here you are. Drive."

So I did, although the seat was low and I couldn't see much.

I'll have you know, we drove into the ditch only a few times.

I'll be darned if I lend you that car again.

Just look at it.

How many people did you drive in the Walter?

Not too many, just six and the bedstead.

What bedstead?

We were moving a bedstead for a butcher.

The butcher was in the car.

That car sure can take a lot.

My life only starts when I hear the compressors roaring.

Jawa 250.

Correct. And this is a Jawa 50.

Manuel Fangio says:

"There are race-car drivers who drive at an average speed of 97 mph.

But they soon get killed.

Other competitors drive at an average of 94 mph.

Those don't win any races.

So I drive at 95 mph and I keep winning."

Norton, Bultaco, Yamaha,

Ermaci, Mondial.

Doesn't that sound wonderful?

- Those machines. - Their names.

Those machines. Just listen.

It's music.

Redman, Hocking,

Baltis, Taveri.

The world elite has met here.

Mr. Stastny will show them anyway, Frantisek.

He walks on crutches. They have to sit him down on the bike.

He pushes off with one foot and wins.

Always a nice panoramic view from here.

Yes, but you can see better from over there.

Well, maybe. But there's more peace here.

There are always hordes of people there.

Because every year somebody takes a spill here.

We can see everything from here and the wreckage lands at our feet.

The year before last, that Italian crashed here,

the one whose frame snapped at 80 kilometers per hour.

Every year something happens here.

That's why there are always so many people here.

I come here every year.

There's always something to see here.

If only cars raced here.

Herman Lang, Rudolph Caraciola,

4.5 liter engines, two compressors.

That's something else to see!

Rudolph Caraciola says his life begins when he hears the compressors roaring.

You know Caraciola, sir?

I do.

I stood next to him at his wife's funeral.

She got caught in an avalanche.

I saw how a dog ran under Achille Varzi's wheels at the Tripoli Grand Prix.

Don't you remind me.

I even was at that tragic practice for the Monza Grand Prix.

A formula car leaked oil on the racetrack,

and on that patch of oil Borzacchini and Campari skidded and were killed.

They crashed from the rock down into the sea.

And Czaykowski?

He killed himself on that oil patch too.

But an hour later.

- And did you know Borzacchini? - Did I?

I drank with him after he won the race in Milan.

He took his entire winnings and exchanged it for bills.

He got a fan going and threw the bills up into the air,

and we danced in the swirling millions.

A wonderfully sociable fellow.

The young Baron Konigsvater had that same sort of disposition.

His father bred horses.

He had mirrors in the stables

for the horses to see themselves and so to get a better appetite.

The young baron married a poor actress

and blew all the money with her so fast his old man got a stroke.

I mean, a coronary, as they say these days.

A nice story.

You're lucky to have seen so much,

so many falls and accidents, all with your own eyes, right?

And I haven't even told you about that big crash at the Grand Prix of Austria.

When Smetana died,

they would use his sheet music to wrap sausages.

That's the thing, to amuse the nation in its spare time.

Antonin Dvorak wanted to do that too,

but the nation prefers to drink and have the "Humoresque" played to order.

Back when I still had one leg, I used to drive all over,

but now that both of them are gone —

I could do it all somehow with one leg,

but now that I've lost the other one too...

Jawa 350.

How did your wife know that?

She has a musical ear.

And a prep school.

Fine.

What do you think is the best car in the world?

Maserati, Mercedes or Alpha Romeo?

Walter. A 1931 Walter. Convertible.

That's a dependable machine. You can load her with a ton of potatoes.

Last week, she carried six butchers and a wardrobe to boot.

And then, she's easy to handle, hugs the curves beautifully,

soft suspension, strong going uphill...

- Well, good afternoon. - Good afternoon.

- Good afternoon. - Good afternoon.

I say, if only they raced cars here...

4.5 liter engines, two compressors.

That's something else to see!

And there you are quite wrong, sir.

Motorcycle races are the most demanding of a racer

who must become one body, one big heart with his machine.

In this perfect union of man and machine,

motorcycle races are reminiscent of flying or ballet.

We used to race too, but with fire trucks.

Staff members and police officers along the entire track are requested...

Who else should know about a great heart than I, ma'am?

With only one leg, I kept on riding a Harley.

But when I lost the other leg...

I rode with my brother in the sidecar

and my left leg was gone with a false leg there instead.

As we were riding along, the car broke off.

My brother rode into a ditch. The force tore off my false leg and leather pants.

I fell off.

The false leg flew through the air and landed in the road,

right in front of two women returning from market.

One of them, as soon as she saw that, she fainted.

To me, nothing had really happened.

I was hopping along to fetch that false leg,

but when I was picking it up, even the stouter woman fainted.

Yes, ma'am, I was still okay with one leg, but now?

That's why I'm so cross and unpleasant.

Because of me, a beauty tried to poison herself with Sliwowitz.

Her name was Zdena Malikova.

When that girl kissed me in the pub, the Dragoon lieutenants used to go mad.

Once she took me to her room

and I told her all about the supernatural nature of Mozart.

Mr. Baltazar has a great heart.

And you think that Mr. Stastny doesn't?

He does, but when he rides by, people's hair stands on end.

He uses too much force.

Zdena Malikova soothed me and whispered:

"You will win me over only as a man."

I wanted to jump out of the window, but it was the second floor.

Zdena cuddled up to me and whispered

that I could do anything I liked with her.

So I informed her that Strauss,

on hearing Mozart's Jupiter,

had said that it disgusted him.

And she answered: "You disgust me.

Can't you see this body of mine?"

But when Mr. Stastny grabs his machine like he means it,

then he has no rival.

His body positioning, his taking risks!

He knows how to go down too.

He's had 60 falls and only a few injuries.

At the Prachovske skaly Gran Prix,

he hit the concrete road surface at 120 km per hour.

The sparks were just flying.

I was watching from the window of my sister's house.

And the machine crashed into a tree

and Mr. Stastny flew right into the ditch under our window.

I said, "How do you do, Mr. Stastny?

Come in.

You can wash up and we'll make you a cup of coffee.

Looking at your bike, you're done riding for now."

Mr. Stastny climbed right in through the window to have his coffee.

I wanted to run away, but there was a St. Bernard growling at the door.

So I started singing,

"Be only mine, my Violetta," and surrendered to her.

Too bad Dicky Dale doesn't ride anymore

or Keith Campbell or Bob Brown.

That would be decent competition for Frantisek Stastny.

Dicky and Keith were killed in a single race.

Bob Brown broke his neck a year later.

So I sang,

"Be only mine, my Violetta," and surrendered to her.

Mr. Baltazar will really step it up today.

He will beat them all.

In the parking lot,

mechanics are exchanging the last cold spark plugs for warm ones.

The competitors are taking their places on their machines

and are slowly driving out to the starting line.

We'd like to point out to all of you on the track

that this is a race of the strongest motorcycle class.

Staff members and police officers are therefore requested

to secure the safety of competitors all along the track.

We ask competitors to maintain utmost discipline.

The world's elite of motor racing

is now approaching the starting line on machines built for the highest speeds.

The final adjustments.

The competitors are putting on their goggles and helmets.

The engines are quiet.

Five seconds to go.

The competitors are leaning over their handlebars.

And they're off!

- Where is Mr. Baltazar? - Over there.

You'd better not go there, though.

Why do I always have to witness everything? My own double crash.

Farina's crash,

Prince Biro flew into the crowd over there, before my own eyes.

Borzacchini was killed on an oil patch a few meters away from me.

At the Tripolis Grand Prix, a dog got under Achille Varzi's wheels.

I just always have to be there.

That's a Norton, isn't it?

- Praga 350. - Beemer.

- Beemer. - Beemer.

Beemer.

Beemer is the dark beer they make in Munich.

It's German beer.

So that it doesn't get shaken up too much,

they deliver it on carts pulled by oxen with long horns.

Each one of those oxen has polished brass balls on their horns,

so everybody can see from afar that they are bringing a special brew.

THE IMPOSTORS

If I wasn't mad about something...

Directed by

I couldn't write

a single sentence.

And when I had nothing to write about,

then I used to manufacture news items by myself.

Once, in the Orient Bar

a prostitute and I got drunk

and I wrote an article about the nightlife in Prague.

The title was

"A Tragic Incident of a Female Alcoholic."

About the illness I caught in Bal Begre,

that I can hardly tell you.

And so one day, I walked into The Tunnel...

The Tunnel in Tyn Street?

That's right. Tyn Street, exactly.

I had enormous success there.

I sang the "Rendez-vous" by Johann Strauss there.

So I entered The Tunnel that day.

They were practically closing, and I didn't have an article for the paper.

A fellow with a beard was sitting there.

I walked over to him, trying to start something,

and I said, "Mister, you look like Baby Jesus."

He socked me a good one.

He started shouting,

"You little shit! Do you know who I am?

I am the chairman of the Czech anarchists,

and my name is Vrba.

Do you understand? Vrba.

V as in vermouth,

R as in rum,

B as in brandy

and A as in absinthe."

But tell me, dear friend,

which was your favorite role?

My piece de resistance used to be The Rose of Stambul.

My only Stambul Rose

You are my Scheherazade

I greatly advanced Czech operetta.

But you tell me something

about how you used to write your newspaper articles.

Once I got a tip

that there was gambling going on at Krejcarek.

I put on a disguise

and so did a certain detective

and we went there.

They were playing on a cart.

A couple of candles

and they gambled

whatever they had stolen during the day

or had gained by begging.

The banker made an estimate and paid it out immediately.

So as not to be conspicuous,

I staked my boots on the nine of clubs.

- On the dead bird. - On what?

- On the dead bird. - Oh, yes.

But I lost.

Then I staked my coat

and my watch

on the green nine.

The goat with the butterfly.

But just then we heard the whistles,

the banker whisked away the candles, it went dark

and the police broke it all up.

And so, nicely barefoot, I lightly walked home

and wrote the article

"The Monaco of the Prague Underworld."

But listen, my friend,

looking at you,

I imagine you looked good in a tailcoat.

I should say.

I owned three costumes.

I was well equipped.

The Tsarevich,

Danil

and Prince Orlowsky.

Wait.

I liked singing The Csardas Princess best.

A thousand angels in paradise

I love you all

What's wrong, dear friend?

Nothing. Just something in my throat.

But I would prefer you telling me something about your articles,

something about cards.

That was some article.

It was called,

"The Gambling House of the Cursed Millions."

I wrote in that article

that three paths lead from the Piceks' gambling house.

One to the Wilson Railway Station,

the second to the Pankrac prison

and the third to the Olsany Cemetery.

I worked out in that article

that during the 10 years cards were played at Piceks',

so much money exchanged hands in the place

that another Maginot Line could be bought for it.

As for me, I liked to play the game "God's Blessing."

Several times I lost everything.

I lost my shoes. I lost my tie.

I used to come home and never a word to anybody.

Because cards, that's the fates tempting you, my friend.

But what can you do,

when the fates turn up their noses at you anyway?

Should I call the nurse?

If only you'd seen me

when I sang The Merry Widow in Brno.

Me, in tails and a cape with white silk lining.

I enter the stage, do this with my hand,

the silk hat slightly to one side,

and there I go, singing...

I shall go to Maxim's

Where there's lots of fun

But my most famous performance

was The Last Waltz by Oscar Strauss.

Could I help it

if the Princess fell in love with me?

With me, a lieutenant of the Guards?

Could I help it that, just for her,

I sang at the ball,

"Love is only a dream"?

That the Commander tore off my epaulets

and broke my saber in front of the whole regiment?

Why, I had to flee abroad because of that waltz.

Because of a waltz!

I'll call the nurse.

Lie down.

Talk, dear friend.

I do so love the human voice.

Some cases, these two fellows were.

This one registered as an opera soloist,

but when the secretary phoned the Artists' League,

he had no relatives,

they told him there had only been one man there by that name,

but he was no soloist.

A chorus singer.

He probably borrowed those costumes somewhere

and had his photograph taken.

And the other one, same thing.

He wrote down in the hospital registration book that he was a reporter,

but he had only written infrequent little articles in the Gardener's Magazine.

And can anybody blame them?

Oh, but I do.

What would the world come to?

The world would collapse

if you couldn't tell the good people from the bad,

the impostors from honest folk.

How are you, my good man?

Ulcer? Ulcus duodeni?

In 10 days, you'll be fit as a fiddle. You can count on it. Believe me.

Thank you, Doctor.

THE HOUSE OF JOY

Show me, you silly thing. Show me.

Here. Give it here. Be quiet.

Let me see your little leg. Attagirl.

See? I just want to measure you. Let me.

Don't be a silly girl. Come on.

You silly billy!

Do you know that I'm afraid of you?

Okay, then. That's it, that's it.

Just look at me, you silly.

Show me another one of those legs.

There now. You see?

Go on walking, will you? Give me your foot.

Be a good boy. Be good.

Let me see. I'll measure again.

This is up to here. This is from the other side.

Come here, now. Easy now.

Be quiet. There, there.

Well, I can't say I like this much.

Is this supposed to be my Fufa?

After all, he's a real Belgian!

He's show material.

But what are you painting there?

It's dragging its stomach on the ground like some weasel.

- You just don't get it! - Well, now.

- I'm painting it for you. - There, there. Giddyup!

If the driver understood art, it would be worth squat.

Yes, yes, yes. We're agents for the National Insurance Company.

Pleased to meet you. I've been waiting for you for ages.

We've come to insure you against life and death.

Please have a look. National Insurance provides coverage

which is basic and general,

but here you have the opportunity, so to speak, of a bonus feature.

A bonus feature

which will give you a feeling of security, of confidence in the future.

And I think that for you, section 10 in particular would be very advantageous.

Well, section 10, to speak concretely,

means that as early as two years into paying the insurance premiums

you can ask the insurance company for a deposit on the policy.

Well, let us be frank, according to the changeless laws of nature,

life around us progresses unarrestably.

New life springs up and everything old decays,

but a modern man is naturally not afraid to face these facts.

Isn't that so? He solves them rationally.

What I mean exactly is the advantageous funeral insurance, you see?

It is offered to you in the following extent.

A black coffin with the usual accessories or even a metal lining,

the dressing of the deceased, placing him in the coffin,

the transport of the deceased and the cremation itself,

fees for the orators, and the official casket for the ashes.

And, of course, it is very advantageous to insure further expenditure too,

like mourning outfits, wreaths, flowers, travel expenses, etc.

According to the wishes of the not-yet-deceased

who wants to cause the least trouble possible to those who survive him.

So you see, goat, how I've paid you back.

Gentlemen, I'm quite willing to be insured.

I'm quite old already.

I've been going door-to-door buying skins for 35 years.

That's fine, and I have another piece of pleasant news for you in that regard.

It's the extra low premiums

for motorcycles and three-wheeled vehicles

because, let's face it, there's danger everywhere in our daily life,

whether we're at home or out on the street, right?

And an accident can happen unexpectedly,

and that's where the accident insurance policy comes in.

We have several kinds, different kinds of coverage.

Look, we have insurance against fire, explosion,

crashing into an obstruction, turning over after skidding,

storms, hailstones, rocks falling,

trees falling, vehicle body paint scratched by children.

Do you have children? - No.

Exactly. You have no children

and a National Insurance plan will secure your old age.

Doesn't it worry you sometimes?

Well, yes. It worries me too, at times.

That's why I want to paint them.

I always said to mother,

"If only those goats of mine which I killed came to life for me.

If only those goats I killed came back to life."

Where do you get such ideas from?

That's what I like best:

To take a knife and plunge it into a goat's neck.

But that time when I was in Prague,

and I saw them kill a horse,

its eyes blindfolded.

Then I nearly cried. - Yes, yes.

Just for you, we have this so-called extended insurance

and I think it's a great thing for you.

Because the extended insurance

not only covers the things we talked about before

but also moveables,

the basic furnishings of your household.

And now that I see it here,

it's as if we had you particularly in mind.

Because our extended insurance covers painting too.

These are my dreams. This is all my dreaming.

Jiminy!

I say, where do you get such ideas from?

It's inside me, like the inside of a goat.

- You painted all this? - Yes, I did.

This here represents — These here —

Those sitting under the trees —

Here they're carrying flour during the occupation,

they were scared —

They rested and hid in the forest.

And this here is one of them with an oar, how —

I don't know. And that —

This is an oar?

This is supposed to be an oar? - Well, whatever it's called.

I can't tell you what it is.

Some things are from around here,

some are from Sumava, and some are from the Tatras.

This represents Jan Zizka

as a ghost appearing to Crusaders.

- These are the Crusaders? - Sure are.

Look here.

Where do you get such ideas from?

I wouldn't know.

And what do you think about while you're painting?

What? I turn the radio on and I sing while I work too.

And this here. You paint nudes too?

That's a naked woman. It didn't come out right.

Here we have some girl — What is it?

Yes, she's exercising there, doing calisthenics.

- In front of that man there? - If you like.

- Please tell me where you get such... - Here I have it, here.

There is a surprise here: Section Six.

Life insurance gives the opportunity...

And that's a stag?

Yes, that's a stag, and he has a dog there. There.

- A dwarf. - A dwarf and a toadstool.

There's a hind. There's a doe.

And on this door there's a lion.

Well, that's a lion.

That man's feet hurt, so he climbed up to ride.

And here, there's this boy next to the neighbor.

The neighbor's son had a boy who was a bit of a hunchback,

and he sort of had his hand —

His mouth was a bit twisted.

Mrs. Salacova, his grandmother, thought he was the very image of his mother.

She says he's their boy all right.

Here's a man with dogs.

Is it always the same man? - No, no, it isn't.

How did you think up that man?

With the two dogs?

Well, that's difficult.

I think of an idea and then I just do it

and that's how it is.

And dwarfs.

Dwarfs.

Those are gnomes. What sort of gnomes are they?

I painted that because the radio so often tells lies...

The gnomes are there because of the radio?

Because of the radio. It often tells lies.

So I said, "Mother, I'll paint some gnomes

with pickaxes, so they'll smash it up."

Only trouble is they won't come to life.

- What on earth do you paint with? - These are oils.

- And everything with a paintbrush? - Yes, all done with a paintbrush.

- These are some woods, right? - They are.

That's a chapel.

It's meant to be a chapel, the one Saint Wenceslas was in.

- That's him on the horse? - Yes, the one riding the horse.

Who's that leading the horse?

That was a mistake. He shouldn't be there.

They say it's making fun. And there —

- Making fun of whom? - Of Saint Wenceslas.

- You like it colorful, right? - Yeah.

Yellow, especially.

And now I've discovered blue.

- They say Emperor Wilhelm liked blue. - He did?

He supposedly liked blue things and so I follow his example and...

- You follow Emperor Wilhelm? - I made this according to him.

Some beaks, aren't they?

- Sure are. - Wait, wait.

The policy will be paid out according to the original agreement

if all premiums are paid in advance.

Will a policy for 40 thousand be enough? - Yes, yes. Of course it will.

Look here. You let that insurance business be.

You're better off buying paint.

You'll be paying a lot and earning very little.

I've already decided to insure myself

because I can't go around buying skins anymore.

That's right, citizen. Here. Sign here.

- Yes, I'll sign it. - Down here. Here, please.

I've already decided to get myself insured.

- I can't go around buying skins anymore. - Correct, citi —

No insurance policy!

Lord, no. We don't even have enough money for paint.

Oh, my guardian angel!

Guard my soul well.

Guard it by day and by night, against all force and bad might.

Guard it well by day and night.

This is my mother. She's my muse.

She gives me the ideas that I put down in paint.

Where are my glasses?

Come on up with me, son of mine.

Angel, guard my soul by night and day.

What do they call you at home?

Tonicek, isn't it? Tonicek. - Yes.

Tonanek, Antonin, Tonda, Antonicek,

This is where we keep the special stuff.

Isn't that something?

All these walls are still waiting for us.

Now I'll show you the way my son paints on glass, with a paintbrush.

This here is the accident which happened to Saint Bernard.

At the last supper, he drank up a spider from the goblet by mistake.

- Oh, boy! - And it came out again...

Lovely.

Out of his mouth.

- Yes, isn't it now? - It is.

Isn't it lovely?

What about this? This is beautiful, isn't it?

- Beautiful. - Well, well.

Look at this beauty here. Just you look.

What do you say to that? - Beautiful.

Madam, do you know that you interrupted an official act?

I know, you Antichrist.

Do you have a mother? - Yes.

Every mother dreams about the role her child is going to play in life,

but it never enters her mind that she could have borne a crook.

And the Good Lord who is here with us and sees everything...

There never was and there is no Good Lord.

There you are damned wrong.

That's the only painting we sold.

The Council wanted to get it cheap, so they ordered it from us.

But that was some job.

And in the end we had to return the money, we did.

Where do you get such ideas from?

It's inside me, like the inside of a goat.

Anyway, it was interrupting an official act. It was.

When we've painted all over it,

we'll offer this little house to the National Gallery.

We'll ask them to get us a clean little house in exchange.

And we'll paint it all over again.

They should put in a chair lift

so that people won't step on the paintings on the floor.

We paint it all for the people, for free, just for the joy of it.

Damnation, damnation.

That was a nice 40 winks I had.

I can hardly see anymore. Is it that late?

Mommy, mommy.

Do you feel what I'm going to paint now?

Tongues, little tongues.

Well, sonny, you paint it nicely, and I'll have to think it out.

Here.

A "Revelation of St. Dominic" for you because you helped us out so well.

Now I'm going up onto the scaffolding.

Carpenters were building

Scaffolding for the masons

And on the scaffolding

Hell and damnation! What is this supposed to be?

Careful, careful.

And on the scaffolding

My love is walking

I planted myself a rue

An herb broad of leaf

Just for the record, that was an interruption of an official act.

May my dear mother in her grave calmly sleep

The rue's blossoms are gone The wind carried off its leaves

But my dear mother still peacefully sleeps

The rue's blossoms are gone The wind carried off its leaves

Catastrophe.

Oh, no. Marriage is not for me.

Boys, marriage is not for me.

It doesn't matter about me anymore, but I refuse to allow cruelty to animals.

Wait, wait.

Catastrophe.

Look here.

Some things should be left as they are.

It was indeed interrupting an official act.

Some things should be left as they are.

THE HOUSE OF JOY

DIRECTED BY SCHORM

My Baruska, you are so sweet

Show me where your bed is

THE RESTAURANT THE WORLD

Directed by

Kiss, children. Kiss.

Many happy years!

In the morning, in the morning

In the white light of day

We won't go home till then

Till the white light of day

In the morning, in the morning

In the white light of day

We won't go home till then

Till the white light of day

At our grandpa and grandma's wedding

At their wedding

At their wedding

Grandma was crying and grandpa, he laughed

Grandma was crying and grandpa, he laughed

I regret the love that I gave to you

I regret the tears that I shed

I like to dance

And perhaps tomorrow

I will be gone

And so keep playing

I want to have fun

Since my love has...

Surely, Doctor, you can't just leave her here.

There's food and beverages here.

Call the police quickly and close up the whole place.

Closing up is easier said than done. This is a self-service restaurant.

We're closing, sorry.

- I haven't even had a beer. - I don't have time to get you one now.

- Well, Doctor? - Nothing we can do.

Come quickly then. It's urgent.

- What? - There's an accident.

An accident? But I should take care of this.

We've been waiting for you since this morning!

Goodness, that wedding on top of it all.

What are you doing here?

We're closing! - I want my beer.

Oh, no. No beer. Come, come.

Out with you.

Come on. We're closed.

No beer till morning. Come along.

- We were always such friends. - Sure we were.

You can get your beer in the morning. Get out.

- Hey, there. I want a beer. - Beer in the morning.

- Hey! - What are you doing here, mister?

Goodness. Come along. Come and talk to me.

Talk you want.

Give me a beer then too. - In the morning.

What on earth happened to you?

Did you fall off a tram or off a rock?

Something worse. My fiancee ran out on me.

You were engaged? I didn't even know that.

Well, it just came up suddenly. Just like that.

It was such an interesting situation.

I had such a strange girl.

The day before yesterday, for example,

we were breaking up stale bread for supper

and heating it up in the oven.

You were breaking up dry bread for your supper?

Dry bread.

Because we'd spent our last dime three or four days before.

The minute the girl had no money in her pocket,

she would get these dark thoughts.

Once she wanted us to commit suicide together.

She said, "Look here, Karlik.

We'll open the window, okay?

We'll hold hands and jump into the yard."

She'd heard somewhere about a case where a boy wanted to kill himself.

He put an ironing board in the window and blindfolded his eyes

and just walked until it tipped.

He fell, of course.

You can imagine how a person feels before committing suicide.

We washed as usual, and we dressed in our best.

That girl of mine had such a nice dress. Taffeta, red.

She put some beads on too.

I went to open the window and looked down into the yard.

You see?

As I looked, I saw an antenna jutting strangely out of a first-floor window.

If we'd jumped out, we certainly would have cut off our —

We surely would have cut open a leg.

The aesthetics of it would just be bad.

Surely you wouldn't care what you looked like afterwards?

My girl also told me sometimes that I'm a bit of a nut.

But how could I be crazy

and at the same time able to work with my hands

to the precision of a hundredth of a millimeter?

So to calm the girl down,

I grabbed one of her hands and one of her feet,

and I wanted to swing her around.

But I must have worked it out wrong somehow.

But that girl of mine was wonderful anyway.

Her head crashed through one of the door panels,

and she looked like a fish caught in a net by the gills.

In spite of it all, she still defended me to our neighbor.

Get a load of them! They even brought stools!

Just look at them. What are you gawking at?

Go home, you idiots!

This is no circus!

Beer again! Beer! It's driving me crazy.

The other day, I went for a walk,

and a pretty girl was walking towards me.

About 19, I think.

Suddenly a train came by and she jumped.

Her head rolled right to my feet.

She was still winking at me. Have you ever seen anything like that?

Oh boy, you, such a handsome fellow.

What are you wearing? You look terrible.

What's wrong with it?

This is fashionable, isn't it? This outfit?

That's the fashion in the factory. - Some fashion, that.

How many beers do you want? - Two pints.

You should see our boys.

You must have noticed.

At the beginning, they all used to wear patched overalls,

and then these little wires came along.

I've got only one here.

I kind of like it. Pretty nice.

I won't give up that girl of mine anyway.

By being frigid, she made graphic art famous.

Had she been a normal woman, had we made love,

absolute graphic art wouldn't have stood a chance.

Six crowns from you, handsome.

What are these people waiting for?

There's a big wedding upstairs. Close the door behind him, Eva.

And what about you?

Do you still like it in that factory of yours?

I don't think I could live without that factory, nor without that girl of mine.

After all, they installed my first exhibition.

WE MUST GUARD OUR UNITY WITH ALL OUR MIGHT

I called the exhibition:

The Factory. A Tactile Experience

And did the workers like it?

Well, the young ones, mostly.

But these days, the whole factory is bragging

that they were actually the ones

who put on my first exhibition.

My goodness. That's what I call a wedding.

That fiancee of yours ran away yesterday, you said?

No, the day before yesterday.

You know what, I'm not really surprised.

She was very well-read,

although it was mostly romance and biographies of the famous.

She dreamed we would have a two-room apartment one day,

with a kitchen...

Well, she's of noble birth, 600 years of family tree

and one of her ancestors was even a papal chancellor.

But of course, sometimes we used to break up old bread for supper.

Or the girl would sell old bottles.

Once she cut up a new dress she'd bought the day before

and sold it as old rags.

Sometimes she also took my books and sold them second-hand.

I really didn't like that, because my library was diminishing.

But otherwise, it was absolute living.

Let us through.

I tell you, I got to know her in such a lovely way.

- Where is she? - Here, the doctor knows.

When we and our friends felt down,

we made our own death masks.

To leave something behind on this earth after we're gone.

In the middle of our work,

such an interesting, unusual girl came and joined us in the cellar.

We don't even know how. She probably saw us through the little window.

She liked what we were doing terribly.

In the end, it was clear she didn't have a dime.

Afterwards, when my friends had gone,

she told me in the doorway, just as she was leaving,

to make her a mask like that too.

Good grief! Why didn't you turn off the lights?

All these people gawking.

What did you find, Doctor?

Well, I examined her thoroughly,

but I found no signs of violence.

Look at the bruising on the neck.

Towards one side, ridges.

It's wide, deep and incomplete. - Yes.

Otherwise, it's a clear case. Death was caused by suffocation.

Well, the request for autopsy —

We'll fill it out right here and pass her over to you.

Well, we'll take a few photographs here anyway.

Where's the rope the young lady hanged herself with?

Yes, yes. On the toilet.

What's that? Did you catch it from somebody, or what?

A horse kicked me.

Well, he sure was a goner.

I took him in, and he's in the drunk tank.

Look, look! Those people will drive me crazy.

Have you ever seen anything like this?

Calm down, ma'am. I'll take care of it.

Did I beat my father to death with a chain or what are they staring at?

I'd rather go sit with that girl in the back.

That'll be better.

Well?

Will you let him go?

We won't be discussing that here.

And why not?

Do you know what he did to me?

He punched me in the eye.

Just look at me. Is that any way to act?

Look, my eye is as black as carbon paper.

It's not all that bad.

Stop it.

Damn it! Will you let him go or won't you?

Tomorrow.

All right. I'll wait for you, then.

Everybody must understand I don't want to sleep alone on my wedding night.

You're not my type.

Luckily you're not the only man around here.

Do you like me?

Hey there,

do you like me?

You know, I kind of do.

Your eyes are just like my girl's eyes.

You've got a blue glint too,

like a splinter of chalcedony,

a dimple in your chin,

and your hair looks like you got it cut in a juvenile detention center.

I like you.

Come, come on.

An unidentified girl of a slim build, about 160 cm tall.

Age around 20.

Wearing a light-green, short corduroy coat, a black blouse,

a gray-green tartan skirt.

Seamless nylon stockings.

- What do you care about those trees? - Hold it properly.

I said, why do you care so much about those trees?

What business are they of yours?

They would break.

So what? So they'll break.

Lord in Heaven, what do you care?

Haven't you got a bit more?

I do,

but only under one condition:

That you'll make me a death mask too.

DULKA CINEMA

Directed by

SOLD OUT TONIGHT

To celebrate the 20th anniversary

of the liberation of the Czechoslovak Republic

and the Third National Spartakiade,

as approved of by the Council of the National Committee,

the workers in factories and offices

will take charge of beautification of public areas.

Starting September 1, the required amount of hours worked will be set again

according to the nature and difficulty of the task.

A novelty is the form of rewarding meritorious individuals —

Give me a drag.

Apart from the bronze, silver and gold pins, diplomas and plaques,

individuals and teams will now be able to win material prizes too.

- Your hands are shaking. - I work hard.

What do you do?

Plumbing. Bathtubs, toilets and the like.

That's great.

Look here. How much is that wool coat?

- This one? - No, that one.

- That one? - Yeah.

- Thirty-five. - Tell you what. Buy it for me.

We'll go somewhere together. You'll see then.

- What will I see? - Well, you'll see.

Buy it first, and then you'll see. - But they're closed.

Doesn't matter.

Just give me the lova, and I'll buy it tomorrow.

- What do you mean, lova? - You know, lova.

Oh, I see.

It's okay.

What's okay?

Well, everything's okay.

I see.

Have a bite.

She keeps on crying

Crying at the gate

Mr. Tichy will be mad. I'll put it here for him by the garage.

So that he has something here too.

She keeps on crying

Crying at the gate

Geez, what a clock. Where did you... you know?

- Where did we what? - Well... you know?

Djadro benga, may my children die! What do you think I am?

We bought it in a second-hand shop, and that mirror too.

Our grandfather was a Gypsy baron.

You've got a cold.

We Gypsies always have colds.

I went to the theater once, and they were playing that Carmen.

She also sang like she had a cold.

Now, look here, you Czech.

Give me those 40 crowns.

You know, we Gypsy girls are clean too.

You'll give me 40, won't you?

Thirty-five, and not a penny more.

All right, then, 35. But right this minute.

No, not now. Not until I see what you said.

That's what all men are like.

First you promise a girl something, and then you give her a kick.

But not me.

But not me. Honest.

Honest. I'm not like that.

No, really. You know I would never —

Well, at least show me the lova.

Now what? Do you want to go out, or in here right away?

We can go to my place.

Mother isn't at home,

so we can make some coffee and put on some jazz.

Sweetie pie, give me a smoke.

The cigarettes are on the chair and the matches too, so take them.

But don't set fire to my bed.

He sings like I talk.

He's a darkie just like you.

Sweetie pie, come here.

Now, then, sweetie pie.

Come here, sweetie pie. Come here.

Let me sleep here with you, okay?

You know...

we Gypsies, as soon as we go to bed with a man,

we fall in love with him.

I have to go to work early in the morning.

So you think I'd go and rob you?

Don't set fire to the bed.

You Czech, how dare you?

Who am I?

I own two feather beds and curtains for two windows.

And my grandfather was a Gypsy baron! - All right, then.

But why wouldn't you let me untie your apron in that case?

Well, why? Why?

Why?

Well, because you could... you know.

- What? - Well... you know.

What, you think I'd steal the 50 crowns I gave you?

- We have to be careful. - How dare you? Am I a thief?

Am I a thief? - Sweetie pie, don't be mad.

You think I would give you money just to take it back again?

- Look here, sweetie pie. - Well, really. Am I a thief or what?

Don't be mad anymore.

You really pissed me off.

Look. Now, there.

What do you say we start a new life together?

But I never tried anything like that.

It's easy. I'd teach you.

I'd wash your clothes, darn them, clean up for you,

and I'd sing for you.

And I'd untie everything for you.

But I have to be at work early tomorrow morning.

Look.

If we went dancing and a stranger asked me to dance,

what would you do?

What would you do? Tell me. - Well, what would I do?

So you would let me dance with a stranger?

When you come back to bed, wipe your feet.

Right. You're family-minded.

But you wouldn't let me dance with anybody else, would you?

Say that you'd slap me. Say it!

Dang it, of course. I'd slap you silly.

I knew that you loved me. I knew it ages ago.

Look here.

When we're at home together, it will be just like I wasn't there.

Gypsies know how to be that quiet.

What if children came along? And with them, worries. Get me?

What do you mean, worries? I already have a little girl. There.

- You already have a little girl? - Yes, of course. Little Margit.

And she's so pretty.

She could fetch your slippers for you,

run off for your beer, comb your hair and everything.

And where would she sleep?

Well, in the couch drawer, for example.

Like me.

How wide are those windows?

- A meter 20. - We're lucky then.

I just happen to have curtains that size. They'll be pretty there.

But I'm a bit of a loner.

Me too. That's how it should be.

But you've got a mess here.

Honest, something terrible.

Well, here, to start with.

- Do you want an apple? - Well, yes.

- How old are you? - Eighteen.

Still have another 10 years in me.

And you? - Twenty-one.

Blackjack! That's the best age.

If I danced with somebody else, you'd slap me, wouldn't you?

- Of course I'd slap you. - Swear you would.

I swear. Honest.

Now I believe you!

Now you're my man, my master, my all.

Yes, but what's my mother going to say?

You leave that to me.

I'll tell her, "Look here, my good woman.

I'm human too, and I can do everything.

I'll sweep the yard and the pavement in front of the house."

But what if your mother says, "You'll marry a Gypsy over my dead body"?

Then I'll tell her,

"Mommy, lie down, and I'll step over you."

I'd love to be Fanfan la Tulipe, if only for a day.

I'll tell you what I think.

You're a plumber's assistant, and that's a lot.

If somebody's bath stops running, you come along.

If somebody's toilet is plugged, who do they call?

Who do they call? You!

They should shoot a film about you and me.

You have your daily bread,

so why should you dash across rooftops with sword in hand?

Well, yes.

But he's handsome. - Handsome!

You got him beat, sweetie pie.

When we get to our place at the brickworks,

you'll see that every other Gypsy is a gallant knight,

but he makes bricks.

Bricks are used to make houses.

And houses are used to make Gypsies.

You know, my foreman, he's not to be messed with.

He keeps asking me to call him by his first name.

But how can I do that

when he's about 20 years older than me and has four kids or something?

When I don't call him by his first name

then he points me out to the whole pub,

and keeps shouting at me, "Look here, everybody.

Have you ever seen such a nitwit?

He keeps his foreman at arm's length."

- And he always says, "Gaston!" - Your name is Gaston?

"If you don't start using my first name, I'll make your work hell.

Worse than hell, a concentration camp."

Once he spilled my lunch out of his bag and kicked it out of my reach,

yelling, "No more sharing my bag!"

He's not to be messed with.

- Your name is Gaston? - Yeah. A dog.

Well, then, Gaston, why don't you call him by his first name?

I'm timid.

Honest.

Look. My people.

They came from afar too.

Now they'll look for work here, like we did a year ago.

How can they sleep in the dew like that?

They have to be accustomed to anything.

We prefer to sleep outside too, when it's nice, of course.

Because it's suffocating for us inside a house.

Look. That man is tattooed. A mermaid tattoo, see?

My father, Demeter, was tattooed like that too.

When we were just lying around and stretching on Sundays,

we used to study the pictures just like in a book and point them out.

Dad used to laugh so much.

He was very ticklish.

He was so handsome.

You're handsome too, and everybody from your family.

Look here.

When we get married, I'll invite all my cousins from Nymburk.

And you'll see eight gallant knights.

- Eight? - Yeah, eight.

My grandfather will come too, wearing his green shoes.

They're all embroidered. He also wears them to funerals.

We'll hold each other by the hand like this.

We'll stand side-by-side.

Don't you just feel it? - Yes, sure.

He'll pour red wine over us.

- Geez, why? - That's a wedding, of course.

- And my grandfather — - Was a Gypsy baron, wasn't he?

Yes, and he carried a bamboo stick around with him.

When he met some Gypsies on the street

who were quarreling and spitting at each other,

he had such power that he just did this with the stick,

and they were quiet at once.

They were so scared of him. Honest.

Well, I saw it. And the quarrel was over.

And when somebody didn't obey,

then grandfather did this and he had to come up to him

and grandfather hit him over the head with the bamboo stick and that was that.

He used to be a referee at soccer games too.

The Gypsies were playing, 20 against 20, and grandfather —

What?

- Well? - A soccer team is 11 players.

- What do you mean? 20 on 20. - Well, of course.

- I was there. It was in Nasavrky. - What's that?

- Well, Nasavrky. - In Nasavrky?

Yes, in Nasavrky.

- All right. It doesn't matter. - Yes, in Nasavrky.

Never mind where it was, but it just —

Grandpa just took his bamboo stick

and hit anybody who kicked others too much

and that Gypsy would stop it, and the game went on.

Sorry, sorry, Mister.

Gaston, you chump.

This is how it should be in our workshop too, right?

You're not angry with me, are you? - Look, mister, you're drunk.

Mind your own business, will you? - That's my foreman, silly.

- Oh, Geez, is that you? - And this is my... fiancee.

Pleased to meet you.

We'll share a bag again from this day onwards, get it?

If you can call me by my first name, you'll be my foreman, get it?

I've never managed to get a Gypsy girl. No, siree, not me.

A Gypsy girl. I only used to dream about a Gypsy girl.

Oh, my beautiful Gypsy My little Gypsy girl

I'm off. Bye!

Miss, have you ever seen such a nitwit?

Bye!

Oh, my beautiful Gypsy— Bye.

My little Gypsy girl - Foreman, you've had a few too many!

Should I walk you home? - Just go alone. No, indeed. Bye.

Oh, my beautiful Gypsy My little Gypsy girl

Just you go on alone, the two of you. Bye! Bye!

- Who goes there? - It's me, Uncle.

I see.

Various scoundrels are around and come here sometimes.

- Why are you looking at him? - I can't see well if it's far.

I'm not going to ask three times. - Who's that?

- He's just a fool. - I'll just pump a lead shot

right into his snout.

What about this one here? - He's my darling.

Darling.

Does he know your name?

- That I don't. - And he's slept with her already.

So times haven't changed since my young days.

They're just playing, you know.

Bye, Gaston. Tonight near that gallant knight poster, right?

Well, you know, I wanted to tell you something.

Something terribly important.

Well, we'd better go.

Scoundrels often come here.

Careful, this might be some future president.

Who knows? Who knows?

THE END