Original subtitles

One!

SUMMER

Leningrad, the early '80s

- Have they started? - Just now.

Quick, back!

Come on, come on. In here. Hurry up.

Look at this.

I board it up, nail it up, and they still get in.

Maybe I should electrify it.

- Yeah, with AC... - Don't get smart with me.

They're like cockroaches, I swear.

My saviour.

That was lucky.

Quiet...

Come.

Just take some plywood, and close it off. Like that.

- And this one? - This one too.

Well, well! Hi, girls.

Hello.

- Have you come to hear us? - Of course.

OK, see you out there. You promised!

♪ You sold my guitar ♪ You bought yourself a coat

♪ All day long, they're calling you

♪ Sorry, but I don't know who

♪ It's a long time since I've cared

♪ Carry on, babe! ♪ Brisk and brave!

♪ You're trash!

♪ You beg money for pins ♪ But spend it on

♪ All your friends

♪ Thank God, people like you won't have kids...

- Natacha, help me out. - What?

♪ Well sorry, baby ♪ But you're a record breaker

♪ You're trash!

Ira, hurry up.

Oh, screw them.

♪ You're trash!

What's going on over there?

We'll sort it out.

Artiom!

It's not allowed.

- Why? - Not allowed.

But it's for the band.

We love them.

Girls! Natacha, leave it.

OK, fine, all right. We'll put it away.

♪ When you lie to my face

♪ I feel like I could kill you

♪ I think we're peas ♪ From two different pods

♪ But another piece of trash ♪ Is gonna take your place

♪ You're trash!

♪ You're trash!

♪ Listen to me

♪ You're trash!

Well?

Mike, it was... fucking amazing.

It's so artless and ugly with such horrible, disgusting rhymes.

That song, Trash, is a hit!

I'd bet half the room was singing along.

- Drink? - Go on.

Others have babes backstage, we have blokes and booze.

Ilya, are you mad? The corridor stinks of your weed.

It's a lovely smell.

May I?

We're all naked.

So can I come in?

Hi.

Mike Vassilievitch, can I talk to you for a minute?

A gift from your fans

and an admirer.

That was great.

I thought so too.

Oh, you liked it too?

Right.

No cameras.

Without scandalous love affairs, rock star biographies are pointless!

Natacha, how's the scandal going?

Keep dreaming.

Well done.

What can I say? Well done.

Thanks, on behalf of the rock club.

Thanks for the thanks.

So this is Zoopark. Who's up next?

Strange Games are on now, then it's Ashes.

That's right, Ashes...

He's a really cool guy.

We have good songs, Viktor. That's what counts.

And what about Boris?

Well, he's a tricky one.

You need to agree on a time in advance, or he won't be home.

Mike's easier.

And he'll actually listen to our songs.

I bet loads of people approach Mike with their songs.

Lads, come join us!

Come on over. Don't worry, we don't bite.

No thanks.

Will you join me in a bottle, lads?

No thanks, we don't drink.

♪ Summer

♪ Sun is out and I'm fried

♪ No money, but I've got time

♪ And I don't need money anyway

♪ Summer

♪ I bought a newspaper in town

♪ Got nothing to wash it down

♪ So I'll go and find some beer

♪ Summer

♪ A big concert today

♪ A bit of this and that, we'll play

♪ So should I go, or just stay?

♪ Summer

♪ Thugs carry knuckle dusters

♪ As they pursue their vendettas

♪ But I just don't care

♪ Summer

♪ Trousers worn down to a thread

♪ I smoke another cigarette

♪ And wander to the riverbed

♪ Summer!

♪ I recently heard someone say

♪ There's a comet on the way

♪ Gonna blow us all to bits

♪ Summer

Take off your glasses. We never see your eyes.

What do you need them for?

For posterity.

We should rehearse more, for posterity.

Those who can't play should rehearse!

Can we be your backing singers?

See Natacha over there?

She thinks female backing singers dilute garage rock.

Yep, I don't think she likes it.

Oh come on!

God, you're so boring, Mike!

A married man!

Artists can't be tied down by family. Don't tie Mike down!

Nobody's tying him down.

Mick Jagger wouldn't get you.

But he doesn't have Natacha.

Because Natacha doesn't have Mick Jagger!

Who needs Mick when I have Mike?

Hi!

- Hi guys. - Hi, Punk invited us.

Punk!

Your friends!

Hi!

What, who's there?

Viktor, Liocha...

- Hi. - Hi.

We're here to see Mike.

Hey, these guys are impostors. I've never seen them before!

Mike!

We have some impostors for you!

Hi!

Mind if we join you? We bought some wine.

Good or bad, it was all they had.

Guys, look, there are two types of wine: good and very good.

- What are you drinking? - A '72 Burgundy.

Is Moldovan OK?

Sure it is.

Thank you.

I'm Liocha.

Mike. Nice to meet you.

And this is Vitka... I mean, Viktor.

We're big fans of yours. Your songs are great.

The dude speaks the truth. Have a drink.

Viktor.

Mike.

Doesn't look like him.

Sorry, but what's that for?

For making music.

What kind of music?

Songs.

By Soviet composers?

Yeah, Soviet! No, mine and Liocha's.

Want some watermelon?

Yes, please.

So what's your band called?

Nothing.

Ladies and gentlemen, get ready for Nothing!

Nothing will be playing with Barely Anything.

The Do-Nothings.

They're called The Do-Nothings.

Guys, enough! You don't have to be mean.

Maybe, The Parasites?

We're not parasites,

I work in the theatre.

True, by the way.

Our man Liocha is in the theatre. A stagehand.

Viktor's an artist. Woodwork.

Let me translate.

Viktor's doing woodwork at vocational school. A blue collar boy.

Viktor, play something for us, maybe some of your early work.

Before that...

what's that you're drinking?

- Moldovan. - Before it makes you forget how.

Well?

- What, right now? - Shit no, tomorrow!

Stop it.

Some white wine?

Sure.

You were going to sing. Come on, then.

I want to smoke.

Me too. Can I have one?

I only have dark tobacco.

I only smoke that.

I bought this amp with my father's inheritance,

so we were all drinking at my place. Viktor was there too, playing bass.

He said he'd started to write songs.

Natacha!

Mike!

Didn't you make a promise?

You promised to manage the cultural heritage of a great band...

- From which band? - You know which one.

Viktor, they're waiting!

We've all got drinks.

Finally, she'll cause a scandal, and we'll have to hide from society!

To you.

Natacha, it's served!

I'm coming.

Spider! There's a spider!

"See my face, not a trace of reality.

Look into my face, no reality."

Mike, the guys are about to sing.

"I don't work. I just speed. That's all I need."

"I don't work, just get high..."

That word means "work", right?

Yeah.

"That's all I need."

"I'm a lazy sod,

"I'm a lazy sod."

It's about me.

- Here. - Thanks.

♪ But the phone will ring

♪ Someone at the door will knock ♪ Or on the street

♪ will scream:

♪ "Stop sleeping!"

♪ And a drunken voice will say:

♪ "Give me something to gobble up"

♪ My friends go through life

♪ Marching

♪ They only ever stop for a beer

♪ My home was empty

♪ Now it's bursting with life

♪ And time and again

♪ My friends gather there, drink wine

♪ The toilet's been busy, for a time

♪ Broken window, that's fine

♪ But frankly, I don't care

♪ My friends go through life

♪ Marching

♪ They only ever stop for a beer

Great song.

Isn't it?

- Yeah. - Just a draft, it's not done yet.

- Really? - If it's good, it's good.

Play Slacker.

♪ I walk

♪ I walk alone

♪ I walk

♪ I walk alone,

♪ What's next

♪ I don't know

♪ I have no home

♪ And no one's home

♪ I'm a spare part

♪ A car that won't start

♪ I'm a slacker, ooh

♪ I'm a slacker, ooh

Viktor, sorry but,

the end should say ♪ I'm a slacker, ooh Mama, Mama.

♪ May Mama always be here!

♪ I'm a slacker, oh Mama, Mama...

Follow me!

Come on, let's go.

Go on.

Let's go. Take it all off!

Wait! I'm coming!

My knickers are burning!

I've thought of a name for them. Garin and the Hyperboloids.

Cool. Which one's Garin?

Doesn't matter. It sounds good.

Well, yeah.

Worshipping of the West.

The state has given you an education.

The state has taught you... What for?

So that you build a house, start a family,

and plant a tree.

But you scream like a beast!

Asshole.

The Sex Pistols scream. I howl.

I have my own unique style.

And you sing our enemies' songs!

The Sex Pistols are simple working men.

Like the Beatles. Not enemies.

Never mind.

Not enemies?

America is our enemy.

And who else?

You sing the songs of our ideological enemy.

Pop stars sing. I howl. Remember?

I'll call the police.

"I'll call the police!" Call them.

What is this behaviour?

He's a lowlife! Comrade, deal with him.

I'm a punk!

Punk? He's a degenerate.

Fun's over, guys.

Teach him to love his motherland, comrades.

Come on!

They'll show you now!

Bye, guys. I'm off.

Get your papers out.

What the hell!

Yeah, and again!

There's more where that came from!

You insulted him first. We're all witnesses.

Upon request of many listeners,

we'll now play a song by the band "Heads That Talk"

entitled "Maniac Killer".

"No, I can't seem to face up to the facts.

"I'm tense and nervous

"and I can't relax.

"I can't sleep because my bed is on fire.

"Don't touch me.

"I'm a real live wire."

You bastard Komsomol Comrades!

Kill me right away! I'm lowlife scum! Shit, no I'm not!

I'm a punk!

DANGER HIGH VOLTAGE

THIS DID NOT HAPPEN

They'll make a patriot of you!

Here's my stop!

Alright, easy there.

OK, see you later, guys. Until next time.

Get off me!

You insulted him first.

This guy here, we're all witnesses. You can't just attack people.

Go to hell!

They filmed that in Vyborg last summer.

The girls told me,

they were in the crowd scenes, pretending to be English.

It's probably nothing like England.

Nothing at all.

A cardboard England in a Baltic swamp.

Not quite Soviet, not quite Western... It's like some third place.

Somewhere quite cosy.

- Shall I change the channel? - Leave it.

Well then, is it bedtime?

Shall we go to bed?

I have to finish the cover art. They want to hear the record tomorrow.

Who's "Blondie"? I don't know her.

Blondie is a band.

Debbie Harry is the singer. It's New Wave.

Viktor, the slacker, said that New Wave is the future.

The slacker decides what music you listen to now?

He doesn't decide anything, we just exchanged a few words.

The album isn't working out.

It will. Why wouldn't it?

You just need to stop being so lazy.

But that's my best quality.

Laziness has kept me out of trouble many times.

That's true.

What does Blondie sing about?

"Call me any day or night.

"Call me anytime." Something like that.

♪ Buttons, bits and bobs

♪ Dimes, dice and doorknobs

♪ This is where my tractors roam

♪ This is where I count my numbers

♪ Where I plant aluminium cucumbers

♪ On a tarpaulin field

♪ Where I plant aluminium cucumbers

♪ On a tarpaulin field

♪ I woke up, it's daytime ♪ I'm dressed, in my armchair

♪ Recognise the wallpaper of my tiny room

♪ Waited for you all night

♪ I wonder who you spent it with

♪ My sweet N

Like that? Or the blues?

♪ And when I came home

♪ I found you asleep, and left you so ♪ Didn't wanna make a scene

Hey Lou Reed, hi Dylan!

But shit, Dylan sings about Vietnam,

and a falsely accused black boxer.

What do you sing about, Mike?

What's your rock'n'roll about?

This is the music of a happy, well-fucking-adjusted guy

who doesn't give a shit about how screwed his country is,

nor who his girlfriend sleeps with.

Dude, you heard of a lyrical hero?

Does he give a shit about anything?

First, kill your inner sceptic.

Second, when the artist...

So kill me.

Do it.

Here.

By the way there's a totally ridiculous song by Sweet,

Lies in Your Eyes.

Yeah, totally ridiculous.

I wonder what it would be in Russian.

"Fear in your eyes".

"Muck in your eyes".

It's complete shit.

But in saying "complete", do you mean "perfect"? Think about that.

♪ And when I came home

♪ I found you asleep, and left you so Didn't wanna make a scene

This did not happen. Nor will it.

♪ I figured, does it really matter ♪ With whom, where, you slept?

♪ My sweet N

Should we do it like The Sex Pistols?

- OK, from the chorus. - The chorus?

♪ My mood depends ♪ on the number of beers I've drunk

Stop.

Why don't we make it more lyrical?

More relaxed, listen.

Wait.

♪ My mood depends

♪ On the number of beers I've drunk

♪ Nobody needs me...

You're always trying to do something to change my songs.

Why don't we just sing them?

But Viktor, they're...

they're like kids' songs.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

Is that bad?

If we're punks then it's fine.

We're not punks.

Not punk, not rock-n-roll.

Like, neither fish nor fowl.

Who are we then? Who are you?

Viktor...

Let's go!

♪ On the misted-up window of a tram

♪ I trace bad words with my finger...

Come here, to Mummy.

Making a racket again tonight?

We'll be quiet, Evguenia, promise.

He hasn't eaten, you must feed him.

I will right now. Thank you.

Mummy missed you. Let's eat some porridge, Genia.

♪ You said you got a C in Geography

♪ For all I care it could be a D

♪ You said someone got beat ♪ Over something you did

♪ My silence speaks volumes ♪ We keep walking

♪ Eighth grade girl

Give me Genia.

I need to spend some time with him.

Look at the time. It's bedtime.

Go take a break. It's fine.

My pet...

Can you not smoke near the baby?

♪ It's so easy with you ♪ And you're proud of me

♪ You love your dolls ♪ And your balloons

♪ But at ten on the dot ♪ Mama's waiting for you

♪ Eighth grade girl...

Getting better.

Just a draft, it's not done yet. I wrote it this morning.

I don't like Mike's songs.

But this one's good. True to life.

What do you know about life except vodka?

Look, it's a hit already.

Like the early Velvet. Have you heard of them?

I'll put them on.

Do a song about my old man. He was in a penal battalion.

Let's have a drink!

Leave them alone.

Come on, come on.

Keep it down!

Go argue someplace else.

What do you think?

I like the fact that it's quite badly recorded.

Exactly. As if it was recorded here. Underground.

But velvety.

I only know Sally Can't Dance.

Sally Can't Dance isn't by the Velvet.

It's Lou Reed on his own. It's a good record.

But Berlin is even better.

Lou's lyrics are always great. How's your English?

Not bad, but speaking is difficult.

Here.

I can't promise it's exactly right. I wrote it down by ear.

- You got many of these notebooks? - A lot.

Listen, I've just had an indomitable idea of mind-blowing proportions.

What if...

When you sing Eighth grade girl, the last verse, we move up a key?

Listen.

And then...

I don't know.

It's not an original idea,

but I think it fits this song.

I like it the way it is now.

Well, you're the boss.

Here.

- Thanks. - Sure, take it.

I'm off.

Haven't been home for days. Mother is worried.

Here... This is for you.

What is it?

Look at that.

I carved it myself.

It fits. Thank you, Genia and I like it.

Natacha, come on, your husband's still alive...

Oh, I have a gift for you, too! Just a sec.

- What's that? - Did you carve this too?

- An ashtray? - It's an ashtray.

All this carving is great, Viktor,

but you'd be better off writing songs.

Do you write fast?

It depends.

Write some hits, sort out the band, and you can apply to the club.

We'll support you.

Get the lyrics approved, and off you go!

I don't know. We need equipment.

An electric guitar. How can we play the rock club?

We're poets with drums.

Please welcome "The Poets with Drums".

Poets with Pomade.

DrumPoets.

Get the fuck out of here!

Damn, we don't even have a name.

The baby can't sleep!

Get out of here, now!

Thanks.

Without electric guitars, we're screwed.

Mate, that's not the problem.

A real rocker can drum on a wooden trunk and it will sound amazing.

We need a new name. Short and simple.

Two syllables max.

"Boozy".

"Vino".

"Kino".

"Fork".

"Corkscrew".

"Sardines".

"Overcoat".

"Letter".

- "Kino". - We already said Kino.

We need dough for an amp.

- And for beer. - Oh yes. Beer comes first.

Right now in fact.

Can we do a swap?

No.

How much, then?

A fiver.

I only have three.

Alright. But be quick.

You like Bolan?

I love T-Rex.

- Did I scare you? - A little.

Hi.

Your work?

Yeah. Take one if you want.

What about you?

What are you doing here?

Cool.

Why am I here?

I came for him!

I heard someone was selling Aladdin Sane this morning.

I couldn't find it, I guess it was sold.

Great album.

Yeah, Mike loves it. I was going to give it to him.

I'm off, good luck.

Wait, let's go together.

You know,

I first went to Mike's place - to his sister's, actually - because of Bowie.

We would walk around a lot,

and I'm always in heels. I always dreamed of just...

Look, they still have records.

My dream: just collapsing onto a bench!

That time we met, Mike was always shy:

he never invited me home.

But that day, Mike mentioned Bowie's new record.

I was so tired of walking I thought I'd drop dead.

So I said:

"Excuse me, but could we,

perhaps, listen to that record right now?"

And I invited myself over.

- Did you listen to it? - I don't remember.

And then...

Then he read me the telephone directory.

There were such funny surnames!

We laughed until the morning.

OK, I'm going.

Mike's working a long shift.

He forgot his food at home.

Let me help you find a gift.

What does he like?

L. I. BREZHNEV ON YOUTH

He likes coffee. Double portion.

So let's bring him a coffee.

Won't it get cold?

We'll be quick.

How much for that cup?

It's not for sale. It's family.

I really need it, come on.

It's out of your price range.

It's for a good cause.

Whatever it takes. I have three roubles.

You know, Viktor...

What's your surname?

Viktor Olegovitch, the gift's getting cold!

Then we'll have to take

an intergalactic rocket to speed up.

Deal? Come on.

Stand clear of the doors.

Next stop: Ulitsa Nekrasova.

We missed our stop!

Stop, please.

Stand back.

You should be ashamed of yourself!

"I am a passenger

"And I ride and I ride

"I ride through the city's backside

"I see the stars come out of the sky

"Yeah, the bright and hollow sky You know it looks so good tonight."

That was the song by American musician Iggy Pop

called "The Passenger".

But, sadly, this did not happen.

If only it had.

- You were talking about Japan. - Yes, it's so fascinating.

They have this amazing poetry, a whole world in three lines.

They know that one flower is greater than a whole bouquet.

With a flowering twig, who needs a garden?

And Basho. Do you know Basho?

"How is it, friends?

A man looks at cherry blossom, And on his belt, a long sword!"

OK, Viktor.

I'll go alone from here. Wait for me.

Good moves!

Some cheese,

an apple,

this is chicken and rice.

And sausage.

And what's this?

It's coffee! A double, your favourite.

Apparently, this cup is priceless.

Only we spilt...

I spilt some of it.

I should go. It's time to collect Genia.

You carried it all across town?

Yes.

Try it.

Well, how is it?

Bitter.

Tasty.

Cold.

Too bad...

You got the lyrics?

You're going to see Ivanova now.

She's in a bad mood,

argued with everyone... She's eating now.

And you should get lost.

Don't let her see you looking like that.

Fucking Sex Pistols.

At least you look like humans, not fucked up.

Hey, fucked up is the highest form of life on Earth!

Soviet youths don't need these kinds of messages, Mike Vassilievitch.

Guys, get your songs approved, and your next concert is here.

Hello.

"They'll knock on my door,

"They'll shout from the street

"That I've slept enough

"A drunken voice says: 'Got any chow?'"

Perfect lyrics for a lunch break.

I see you're not afraid of lazy rhymes.

Though that makes the form consistent with the content.

It's a sort of primitivism. A conscious sort.

May I?

Leave me, I'm still on lunch break.

- Excuse me. - Excused.

Thanks.

Well done, son.

Guys,

don't get me wrong,

we created the rock club to make a point.

To show that rock music isn't for the gutters

and dives. And what do you do?

You drag it back down into the gutter.

What's this all about?

"I'm a slacker, oh, oh.

"Mama, Mama.

"I'm a slacker, ooh, ooh".

I see whose influence this is, Mike.

Well, "Mama, Mama" was my idea.

At least you have a lyrical hero,

strong, sharp, and independent. But this?

A blue collar boy with a ciggie.

Exactly.

A blue collar boy also has the right to a voice. Hasn't he?

He's the working class.

The working class, I know.

Soviet rock musicians must find all that's good in humanity.

And play an active social role.

Understood.

Viktor, don't get so worked up, sit down.

Hello.

This is Oleg.

He's our drummer.

Oleg,

could you bring us some drinks, please?

These are comic, satirical songs. We're short on them.

And in a way, it's also quite clearly

a critique on society.

OK.

Let's assume that's the case. What does Eighth Grade Girl critique?

- Sexual promiscuity. - I'd like to hear from the author.

Promiscuity. Of the sexual kind.

I see.

And My Friends?

Teenage alcoholism.

And There's Time, But No Money?

Parasitism.

OK.

So I will write:

"Comic songs".

Not comic.

Viktor!

Go get us something to drink.

You too. Go.

- Would you...? - Go!

Yes, please.

Tanya, let the guys play.

Under the influence of other ideologically stronger bands,

they'll develop a consciousness.

It's a good thing they're singing and composing.

They have a vocation.

So they'll never match that band The Russians, but...

they probably won't drink. Nor steal.

And so we must renounce our worldly possessions,

material wealth, and the pursuit of profit.

We must go live with friends in the country,

avoid politics,

talk idly about nothing

and about everything, in freedom and equality.

Mike, your friends are here.

Hi, everyone.

What a nice surprise!

Here you go. As promised.

Thank you, old friend. That's wonderful.

And this?

That's not for you. I need it myself!

Scary Monsters! That's about us!

Mike, the champagne.

And money, does it work in your utopia?

It's shared equally. It's easier that way.

And basic furniture, right?

And what furniture would you have, ideally?

Ideally, I'll lie on a couch,

getting royalties for my songs all my life.

Oh, I have a couch. I'll trade it for a record.

Great, I'll think about it.

What about clothes?

Forget about clothes!

Ira, the champagne wasn't for you.

Ksyusha, can you grab a rag?

The lifestyle itself is a cult.

You must live how you want, not how others say. Right?

I think it's a grand idea.

Here's to Zoopark!

And I also want to thank Mike

for getting us into the rock club.

Thanks to you guys.

Hey, let's bet a beer on the first thing they say on TV before the news:

"100,000 tonnes" of something, or "Leonid Brejnev".

I bet on "100,000 tonnes".

I'm for "Leonid Brejnev".

Heard of Garin and the Hyperboloids?

Is that I'm a Slacker?

I've heard of them. Is that you?

Something like that.

Hi again.

- Hi. - Liocha.

- Viktor. - Hello.

Here, smokies with fishies.

Or Ashes to Ashes, Russian style.

Mike, I owe you a beer.

"Leonid Brejnev"!

You want to put on a home concert?

Of course we do.

We've only got a short set.

30 minutes. If it's us and Mike, that could work.

Mike Vassilievitch!

Do you want to poison the baby? I already said, smoke in the kitchen!

Let's go, or she'll bite my head off.

A very passionate lady, Evguenia.

Are you going home tonight?

I'm staying till morning. I already called my parents.

It's not how we behave.

All this jerking about,

rolling your ass like a faggot.

So how do "we" behave?

What is ours?

- Vyssotski's ours. - Vyssotski, sure.

Why don't you try picking up a guitar.

Play with it for a while, see if you can strum the strings?

Try screaming into the microphone.

Then you'll know a man from a faggot.

Viktor.

Oh, wow!

You like tomatoes?

Yes.

Take a bite.

Maybe we can split it?

Eat!

Viktor, we need to talk.

It's not locked.

I called my mother.

I'm staying with you tonight.

Is there anything to drink?

In the kitchen.

Pay attention, this is the best part.

Beautiful.

To the right. Cough.

Head to the left.

Cough. Turn.

Buttocks apart. You can go.

- Pacha! - Kolia!

Pacha, are you there?

Mum!

Stop shouting!

Just tell me: is it Afghanistan?

Stop, Mum.

Kolia!

He was drafted a week ago and didn't say a word.

Oleg!

We give them our things?

Underpants off.

Buttocks apart.

Next.

Hey, you!

I'm talking to you!

Cut it out, or I'll drum on your head!

Buttocks apart.

Come on.

This is madness! A recording?

But we don't have a drummer.

We'll put a drum track on in the background.

Look, half the club rocks to AC/DC and Black Sabbath...

You want to give them a drum track?

They can barely stand me. They'll destroy you.

So let them.

I don't understand why it bothers you.

Because it's not rock'n'roll. It's disco!

What's so bad about disco?

Bowie writes disco.

If your dear Bolan hadn't crashed,

he'd play disco too.

And he wouldn't mind a bit.

Yeah, sure.

"Don't give a fuck" is the future.

Do what you want. Play Duran Duran, even!

I don't care.

Well, we'll be going.

It's finished.

What shall we play next?

Whatever you want.

Pick one.

They're both good.

No, choose.

OK.

T-Rex.

Why not Lou Reed?

Well, he's a little monotonous. Arrogant at times, too.

I don't always enjoy listening to him.

Well, at last!

Why didn't you tell me this before?

I wouldn't have played Lou Reed around you.

I didn't want to upset you.

But I can't guess what you want.

So it's better if you tell me what you want.

I want to kiss Viktor.

And how can I help with that?

Give my blessing?

Pretty much.

If you didn't know I kissed him, the guilt would kill me.

So what do you need? A signature? A seal?

You can just say it.

Go ahead, kiss him.

T-Rex then, right?

Hi, everyone.

Hey.

This one's open too.

Rock'n'Roll Star next.

♪ In the day, you have everything ♪ Everything that makes life worth living

♪ Things to do, friends, ♪ sometimes even money

♪ Wine, and even buddies for drinking

♪ You're a rock'n'roll star

♪ At least that's what they say

♪ And the boys ♪ in a dirty and stuffy cafe

♪ Are happy if you look their way

Fucking let loose, Mike! Fuck it!

Get up, guys!

♪ Find peace in the new day

♪ In the evening we'll play

♪ But in the morning ♪ it's the same old faces

♪ This old game, I've seen it all before!

Natacha, get up!

♪ You're a rock'n'roll star

♪ You turn up the volume

♪ Sing the same old blues

♪ Music puts you in such a good mood

♪ Hey, rock'n'roll star!

Let's go!

♪ What wouldn't you give to fall asleep?

♪ What wouldn't you give ♪ to be deceived?

♪ Hey, rock'n'roll star!

I'll lock all of you up!

Stop this disgrace at once!

You must be proud!

THIS DID NOT HAPPEN

Zoopark! Zoopark!

Let's go after Mike's set before The Hyperboloids play.

Why would anyone play after Mike?

Right, put this on.

Viktor, what is this?

I said put it on.

Get ready for the mysterious Garin and the Hyperboloids.

And even though one of them is in a frilly shirt

and the other... is too,

I think they've got something. Give them a hand.

It's a new comedy band.

Listen to the humour in the lyrics.

♪ Hey, where are ♪ your crepe-rubber shoes?

♪ Where's your double-breasted jacket?

♪ Dad, hide your slippers out of sight

More vocals.

- What? - Turn the vocals up.

♪ Back then you wouldn't ♪ have paid a fiver for them

♪ You used to be a beatnik

♪ You used to be a beatnik

♪ You used to...

♪ You used to be a beatnik

♪ You said you'd give your soul ♪ for a rock'n'roll record

♪ Made from X-rays

♪ of someone else's body

♪ And now it's just TV, ♪ newspaper, football

♪ And your dear old mama ♪ is proud of you

♪ You used to be a beatnik...

♪ Your rock'n'roll days are gone

Veterans supporting the youth.

♪ But I still believe ♪ and it's nice to believe

♪ That deep, deep down ♪ your spirit's still free

♪ You used to be a beatnik

Well, how was it?

You're a maestro, sir!

Did you see Mike rocking? The place was on fire!

Yes, I saw. I hate being filmed.

- The camera loves beauty. - So film the bridges, the Hermitage!

Tickets for the Aquarium?

Mike, a few words for posterity.

A few words?

This is Natacha, a great lover of tomatoes.

What's wrong?

Well, your man's here.

He might not like it if I hug you.

He's the one you should be filming.

Guys... Can we just...

move into the light? That's good.

Can you move? I want him.

Get down!

The bridges will be up, so I'll be out till morning. Don't worry.

Viktor!

Can you walk Natacha home? To pick up the kid.

- Sure. - Great.

See you.

- Coming with us? - No, I have an important task.

See you.

Wait a second.

- Shall we go? - Let's go.

Wait for us! Don't close the door!

Goodbye.

Viktor, don't just stand there.

I'll just get Genia from Evguenia's.

Shall I make some tea?

Or beer? I'll see what's in the fridge.

No, thanks.

Mike will be back soon, he'll want it.

Mike's not coming.

The bridges are up, so he's staying with Micha.

I really like that Blondie girl. Mike translated a few of her songs.

I like the one about phone calls:

"Any day or night. Call me."

Mike isn't a big fan.

Maybe I should be going?

Viktor.

Look.

The baby needs a bath. This table should go here.

And I'll boil the water.

Do you mind helping?

Wait here!

What's that you've got, port?

Give it here.

Thank you.

It ate the coin. Do you have change?

What are you doing in the rain?

Thrown out of home? Did your girl kick you out?

I kicked my old man out.

I'm too proud.

I tell him:

"Call me. Even at night.

"Whenever you want, just call. Call me in the morning,

"Just call me."

I flew in from Vladivostok.

And I'm flying!

In this red dress, flying.

And what?

What for?

Why should I wait for him?

I don't want him. I don't need him.

GOD

Lou Reed says: "A perfect day

"is drinking in the park,

"feeding animals at the zoo,

"going to the movies

"and finally, home.

"It's such a perfect day."

You're not squeamish?

Mike can't bear childcare.

How's that?

He's so tiny.

I really want a son.

Then get married!

Come here.

Come here, my sweet.

Just heard Bowie. Didn't understand a thing, but it sounded great.

Not too small, is it?

No, it fits perfectly. Good jumper, thanks.

I had an idea for a song.

About no one, nothing, a song without meaning.

What's a song about nothing?

Just that.

I reckon a song without meaning is an achievement.

Would you stop scratching?

Maybe it is.

I don't know any good songs with meaning.

Some wine?

Yep.

What do you listen to?

I listen to my drinking buddies.

Then let's drink.

I wonder if jeans would suit me or not...

They would.

You think?

I'm not sure. Haven't got the money anyway.

Liocha has some light blue jeans, they're too small.

I'll buy them and give them to you. They'll suit you.

Genia is looking at us funnily.

He loves you.

And I love him.

He isn't usually friendly with people.

But with you he is.

Well then...

Sleep, little one.

Sleep.

The baby's exhausted.

He falls asleep so fast with the light off.

Mike has allowed me to kiss you.

You've got written permission?

He joked about that too.

No. We just don't keep anything from each other.

That's all.

Well?

Do I need to get written permission from you as well?

Boris, you once said if I needed help recording an album,

to "just say the word".

That's right.

This is "the word".

Will you produce the album?

Well, if you think you need my help with that...

I think I do.

Of course.

So, will the lineup be the same?

I'm not asking for my band.

Then who for?

Gotta record Viktor while we can.

What could possibly happen to him?

Anything: army, family, children, alcoholism...

A lack of interest in living. Anything can happen in this country.

- And your album? - It's fine, I'm working on it.

Viktor...

♪ On the misted-up window of a tram

♪ I trace bad words with my finger

♪ The drainpipes ♪ are making musical sounds

♪ My head wet from the rain ♪ wet like grass

♪ My head...

♪ And the city is grey and wet now too

♪ I walk about ♪ not hiding under an umbrella

♪ And like a mirror in rain ♪ the shimmering glass

♪ I'll walk around

♪ See if anyone's home

♪ My mood depends ♪ on the number of beers I've drunk

♪ Nobody needs me ♪ And I don't need anyone

♪ The roofs are dripping ♪ After the first rain

♪ The warm weather is here ♪ I hope it stays

♪ Everything's not so bad ♪ if you just smile

♪ Let's sit and watch the world

♪ Through a glass of wine

♪ Generation X, Generation Zero

♪ We're strange ♪ you'll know us when you see us

♪ Strangers to pain ♪ we're all wayward bums

♪ Don't think any of us

♪ Still needs anything

♪ My mood depends ♪ on the number of beers I've drunk

♪ Nobody needs me ♪ And I don't need anyone

Amazing.

Right, Andrei?

Well, the template's there. Now we can record the vocals.

Guys, we've recorded the guitars and the drum machines.

And?

Is it OK to record them through the same effects pedal?

Of course it's OK.

One pedal, one sound. That creates the sound of the album.

We just recorded new songs with Boris, and it was all through one pedal.

And I'll tell you what: it was the same effects pedal.

Let's go.

Recording!

Wait!

Alright, go.

No. Stop.

The sound's shit.

This is complete bullshit.

Amateurism.

Hey, don't get angry.

We both know how it could sound.

But this is not about sound.

You've just gotta record these songs. Release them, let go.

It's bad, sad for the songs if they stay stuck

in your head.

Dammit, let them out, and be done.

You don't like the sound.

When the kids scream your songs in the hallways, that'll make a sound.

Just think about it.

You don't like the way your album sounds,

that's a beautiful...

problem.

Problems like this are rare. You're lucky. Enjoy.

I'm enjoying.

Well then. Stop whining.

♪ My pockets are empty, ♪ my watch reads six

♪ No cigarette and no lighter

♪ There's no light ♪ in my friend's window

♪ There's time, but no money

♪ And no one to go visit

♪ There's time, but no money ♪ And no one to go visit

♪ All of a sudden, no one's around

♪ Seems my friends ♪ aren't really my friends...

Good. Great.

♪ I want to drink, I want to eat

♪ I just want to find somewhere ♪ where I can sit down...

Great. Just super!

Boris, are you sure?

Well, shall we listen to the dub?

What if we all sing at the end?

Like a drunken chorus.

Like The Doors, inAlabama Song.

Exactly!

Into the studio, then.

- You join in too! - Sure!

♪ Night, day ♪ Too tired to sleep

♪ There's smoke

♪ To hell with it

♪ There's no sleep

♪ Just a dream of years

♪ The film

♪ ended long ago

♪ My home

♪ I'm there

♪ Sitting around

♪ Like a fool

♪ It's light

♪ Sleep won't come

♪ Now it's night

♪ Soon it will be gone

♪ A bowl of water

♪ Gas flame burning...

- Has it started? - It's nearly over.

- Marianna! - Hi.

Drunk already, my dear?

Get your feet off the chair.

Late as usual.

- Thanks everyone! - Wasn't that wonderful?

Thanks! Enjoy the album!

Aluminium Cucumbers again!

Let them rest and have a drink.

Wonderful.

Get the musicians a drink!

Can I get your number, please?

Great.

Eighth Grade Girl, Cucumbers, etc.

Just, wow!

Here. Count it.

"Sometimes you do have money, but no time."

Thank you.

Thank you.

Want some rum?

I want some!

Don't give him any more!

Too late already.

Rum's best with Pepsi Cola.

It's time to get Genia.

So go and get him. I'm staying.

Everyone, let's start. While we're still standing.

- Hey, quiet in the kitchen! - We're starting.

Press that button.

Quiet!

First, I want to ask Mike

a question.

Let's say you have a lot of money, or someone says to you:

"Play what you want, any instruments,

any venue..." Basically, describe your dream concert.

My dream concert:

a stadium of thousands,

sound, light, multicoloured smoke, 3 drummers,

2 pianists (1 white grand, 1 synth),

a ten-man wind section

that comes on,

blows, and then leaves.

Blows in what sense?

In the literal sense, as in "play".

Then the elephants come out.

And why elephants?

What kind of zoo doesn't have elephants?

The elephants have a string orchestra and a harp.

- Just one? - One harp.

Just one, played by People's Artist, Vera Dulova.

My love! My one great love!

That's it.

And you, Viktor?

I'm going to disagree with Mike a bit.

I see everything a bit differently, which is natural of course.

I don't see the joy of a stadium, you can't see who you're playing for.

So you'd want a small venue,

like a bar?

I dream of playing in a bar! But who'd let us?

I'm not a camera operator, I work as a studio camera technician.

Well, I did.

I'd take a camera to film friends from time to time.

Bribe the guard with a bottle

and just take it with you.

But someone ratted, the KGB came,

seized the material. Scandal ensued...

I hid this in a jar at my parents'.

There's not much, but this is what's left.

Are they fashionable too or just poor?

♪ I want to own you completely

♪ Embrace your big body

♪ Kiss your tight lips

Horrible...

♪ I wish for, I want you

♪ Diamonds scattered across the sky

♪ Somewhere, people

♪ are getting high

♪ I want to have the right to it

You will!

♪ I wish for, I want you...

Do forgive me.

I came with my friend and it's time to go,

but I have an idea.

- Oh yeah? - Give me your hand.

- You're a fortune teller? - Almost. Give me your hand.

- Marianna. - Viktor.

I know. See you.

♪ Your song, full of love...

I'm a little confused.

As Mike says, better to be confused than working.

I try to find you a wife, but there's one right here.

She's a bit odd.

Marianna's kind and clever,

and Mike thinks she's modern and progressive.

But I don't want to get married. Not to anyone!

She and her mum smoke on the balcony,

and an old Commie chases them off!

Her mother is fantastic.

Singing about steam engines...

Viktor, seriously now.

Stop coming round. Mike's on edge, and it's hard for me.

- What's hard? - Everything.

Seeing you and not seeing you.

I can't. Mike's opinions about my songs are important to me. I trust him.

Then let's pretend we barely know each other.

We'll stop paying attention to each other.

Shall we try?

Let's try.

The ring!

It won't come off.

We need to escape this swamp somehow.

We can show your songs to someone in the West.

Americans.

Sure, they're sitting waiting.

Dude, relax.

We must record your songs in English. Your English is perfect, right?

Maybe they'll buy.

Oh, shit!

Careful! That's OK...

Here, give me that, you don't need it.

OK, stop it.

There's been an accident...

Come on, son.

Come on, hold on!

I nearly fell!

Mike is right, really.

They love our dusty old icons:

Chekhov in Canada, Tchaikovsky...

- The film! - In a minute!

They already know Tchaikovsky.

They want to know what's happening here now.

That there's another life, other music.

Is there?

There's you.

There's Boris, Viktor...

What would they see that's new in my music?

After The Beatles, The Stones, The Doors,

Led Zeppelin, The Clash, Joy Division,

Bowie, Bolan, Dylan!

T-Rex, even Blondie!

Not to mention fucking Amanda Lear!

It's OK in the swamp, especially if you're No. 1 toad.

What have you done? Mike!

Can't you keep your mouth shut?

A composition by the British group, Mott the Hoople,

from their '72 album.

Music and lyrics by David Bowie: "All the Young Dudes".

I'm going.

"Billy spent the whole night going on about suicide.

"He's out of his mind at only 25.

"Injects meth, and doesn't want to live.

"Cos on TV they're saying guys like us ruin everything.

"Man, are you for real?

"Fuck your TV, I've got my T-Rex.

"Yeah, I'm one of the young dudes!

Scrupulously applying the country's harvest plan

that was set up electronically,

50,000 trucks took the path along the silo fields.

"Spring has come, winter departed,

thanks is given to the Party."

...millions of tonnes of wheat from Kuban in the silos.

The time in Moscow: 3 p.m.

In Ashgabat: 5 p.m. In Karaganda: 6 p.m.

In Krasnoyarsk: 7 p.m. In Irkutsk: 8 p.m.

In Chita: 9 p.m.

In Khabarovsk and Vladivostok: 10 p.m.

In Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk: 11 p.m. In Kamchatka...

Natacha Vassilievna.

Well, look who it is.

Were you "just passing by"?

I was indeed just passing by.

How did you find me, Viktor Robertovitch?

Marianna said that you work here now.

I wanted to give this back.

What is it?

Lou Reed's lyrics.

What did you think?

I don't know. He's arrogant.

Still, all his lyrics are good.

Berlin is my favourite though.

Is Mike coming to our concert?

Who knows? You know how he is.

You should come. I've written some new songs.

I want him to hear them.

How are things?

Fine.

How's Genia?

Genia is fine too. He's started to walk and talk.

Tell me,

how much does Mike earn in Moscow?

What does he get for a home concert?

No idea.

When in Moscow he travels by taxi

and drinks cognac: he can't bear it when sober.

Whatever he brings is welcome.

And you account for every kopeck to Marianna?

Yes, she arranges the concerts.

Well, that's different. I really don't know.

Come over, you can ask Mike yourself.

Maybe I will.

OK, bye.

See you.

Look, Bolan's watching us. He'll tell Mike everything.

Is there anything to tell?

No.

Nothing.

No need to, either.

Then I'll go.

Bye then.

♪ Grey, fog, and rain ♪ It's light out, it's 6 a.m. again

♪ It seems that very same ♪ tomorrow has come

♪ Which I heard of before

♪ Yesterday was even done

♪ The stars in the sky start to fade

♪ Rock stars go home to beds unmade

♪ And me, I'm on my way home

♪ Last night we went around the town

♪ My senses are unusually sharp

♪ It's all so interesting ♪ all so meaningful

♪ I look at myself, I look around

♪ My mind is a mess, too

♪ But a city is a wonderful thing

♪ Like a circus ♪ Or like a zoo

♪ With its jesters ♪ And its heroes

♪ Its Oscar Wildes ♪ And its Joan of Arcs

♪ Here are the scoundrels ♪ And the worthy

♪ Ordinary people ♪ The majority

♪ I love them all

♪ Well, almost all

♪ But I wish that everyone could be happy

♪ Grey, fog, and rain

♪ It's light out ♪ It's 6 a.m. again

♪ It seems that very same ♪ tomorrow has come

♪ Which I heard of before ♪ yesterday was even done

Hey.

Good morning. Have you woken up?

"I woke up this morning."

A great opening to a blues song.

Genia woke up early, too.

I rocked him so you wouldn't wake up.

Maybe I should move to Mum's.

So I don't feel like an idiot.

What idiot?

It's just a teenage romance.

We walk hand in hand.

And sometimes we kiss.

You do know that holding hands is the most dangerous thing of all.

Stop it.

I always dreamed of living with you in an old castle.

But all we have is a communal apartment and a caretaker's salary.

That's quite enough for me.

Want some coffee?

Evguenia brought our share of the coffee.

Shall we take these cups, Genia?

Shall we make Daddy some coffee?

Done. You're free to go.

Great!

Only no swing, OK?

Play it straight. Like robots.

I'll try.

Well guys, are you ready?

- Guys, I believe in you. - Hi, everyone.

Viktor,

Mikhailov believes in you. That makes you a god!

We have only one God. OK, Boris?

I'll go on ahead.

Oh, look at our handsome new romantics!

This is exactly what the rock club has been missing.

It was Marianna's idea.

Don't turn around.

Boys, break a leg!

Fingers crossed.

The District Committee asked for tickets.

Is Mike here?

- I haven't seen him. Did you ask him? - I did.

Why ask him?

He's on the club's board, he doesn't need an invitation.

Well...

Viktor, don't think about that now.

I agree with her.

Don't think about that, Viktor.

Right, time to start, boys!

I'll go and announce them.

Good evening, friends.

Now we're going to hear the band we've all come here to listen to.

I give you Kino!

One...

♪ I know my tree

♪ Won't last a week

♪ I know my tree

♪ Is doomed in this city

♪ But I spend all my time next to it

♪ I'm fed up with everything else

♪ It seems that this is my house

♪ It seems that this is my friend

♪ I have planted a tree

♪ I have planted a tree

♪ I know my tree

♪ May be broken by a schoolboy tomorrow

♪ I know my tree

♪ Will leave me soon

But while it is there, ♪ I'm always nearby

♪ In joy and in pain

♪ It seems this is my world

♪ It seems this is my son

♪ I have planted a tree

♪ I have planted a tree

I'm going for a smoke.

♪ I turn off the TV ♪ and I write a letter to you

♪ About how I can no longer ♪ watch this shit

♪ About how I've got no strength left ♪ How I almost drank to myself to death

♪ But didn't forget about you

♪ About how the telephone rang ♪ and wanted me to get up

♪ To get dressed and go ♪ Actually to run

♪ But I told him where to get lost

♪ Said I'm sick and tired ♪ Stayed up all night

♪ I wait for a reply

♪ There is no more hope

♪ Summer will be over

♪ Summer...

Subtitling TITRAFILM