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WAKE UP, MATE, DON'TYOU SLEEP
Proudly, proudly, chin up! Come on, come on!
Come on, come here to the guitar! Here, here, here, stand here, ok?
We'll change your appearance a bit. Come and stand by the guitar, ok?
Listen, it's ok. It's ok, see?
Grab the guitar.
Grab the guitar. It's ok, it's ok.
Ladies and gentleman. We welcome you all.
Don't worry, don't worry.
Today, we'll show you how someone becomes a star.
For example, we got this guy. We got this Hungarian kid...
- Are you a reformed church member? - Leave it, it's not... why is that?
- Whatever, I said... you don't need to talk... not yet. - Ok.
The rate at which the pop profession is growing, showed us that we need a guy,
an idol, a hero, a Herodotus in Greek,
a "circazes", if you please...
we are going to teach you tonight, how a pop star is born.
Because... what do we have to work with? We have to work with the past.
We don't compare to the past and we don't reach back to the past, we steal the past.
That's why we are here in the beautiful place...
and, there in that corner, a kid was shot in the head in '44.
The lady who did it told us... and we're going to shoot a great video clip here.
We found a great subject. We have to work on him a bit,
we'll fix him up. Can you play guitar?
- What's your name please? - Andras Lovasi.
That's why we picked you. A real Hungarian name Havasi... Andras Havasi.
Agood Hungarian name, because that's what people like.
Reformed church member, Hungarian kid, his hair sticks up a bit.
That's great. Smile please! His teeth are fine...
The glasses make him look intelligent. They'll love him!
We'll make him an image... Can you play?
- Well... - Andras, right?
It's ok, we'll teach you. I think, with this guy,
we can make something, that Hungary hasn't seen before.
The girls will love him, the boys will love him.
Because, there's something intelligent, something exciting about him,
though... we won't... he's not too young, so we won't make him like...
- Excuse me, but we're professionals... - Ok, ok, ok...
A professional doesn't get insulted ... and there are...
Next time give him a closer shave, ok? I can't work in these conditions.
We're going to fix up the kid, give him an image.
Play the guitar! Are you from the projects?
- I started from there... - A kid from the projects, who can play,
smokes, swears, pimps, smooches. You can play, believe in yourself!
- Grab it... grab it like this! - I can't.
- They're going to eat it up. - What? - This.
- What you showed me outside? - Yes, yes, yes, that one, you know.
Don't be, don't be so... that's it, yes and smile! But not too much...
be relaxed, you know. Like... like you're above this... that's it, that's it...
above them all, ok? You'll have a different jacket.
Strum it, strum it non-stop, you don't stop, ever, never, understand?
Like on stage. If you're up on stage anything can happen,
but you can stop, ok? The chick in the crowd. Think about that,
the chicks will love you, they'll come up to you after: "what about that poem".
Recite a poem, but not some senseless, crazy thing,
from art films... horses and...
Jutka swimming across the stream. Don't be silly, but,
properly, for the kids. Something they will get, ok?
You know, you know, something known, right, you know what I mean.
Something... you're a child of this age, no? Ok, maybe five years older.
- Listen... what about... - Does it matter? Let's go!
Yes? Yes? Go! Do it and we'll swoon.
- That's the... - Listen... I think we have to break down...
Listen, listen, we have to break down the wall that blokes you, ok? We'll break it down.
Right, right, close and sing, sing!
Don't worry about anything!
- Pretty brown haired girl... - Pretty brown haired girl...
- Swoon over me... - Swoon over me...
- Stroke my hair... - Stroke my hair...
- My diopter... - My diopter...
Yourself, put yourself into it, so... Who you are.
- This is hard. - Havasi... Havasi, right?
But I can't do it.
Whatever, then dance, I'll do it.
Right, right! Go on, do it! Be manly!
Pretty...
How did it go?
Pretty brown haired girl...
Stroke my... hair...
Make the mistakes your strength!
Love my diopter...
Be yourself...
- Yourself. - Pretty brown haired girl...
- Yourself. - Be yourself...
- Yourself. - Love my diopter...
- Yourself. - Pretty brown haired girl...
- Yourself. - Pretty brown haired girl...
How many home moons, how many useless
livestock kept for their souls,
How many damaged faces, how many burnt out eyes,
How much do you need to get away with?
Scarred, are there any sick, are there any dreams, are there any ideas,
Or are they all going into the wood chipper?
How much unburied stupidity do you carry around,
How many reasons have you found, that have no cause...
- Come on, everybody out! - Come on, out, go, faster!
- Come on! - Hurry up!
- Don't touch me! - Why, what's up?
Let my friend go! You should be ashamed.
Hey, Kapa, what is this? Where are we? When is this?
This ill-mannered bunch, what a tone of voice!
- I want to talk to your boss. - Be quiet!
- You'll talk to him in a minute. - Leave them be!
Leave them? Who is the boss? I want to talk to him.
- Get going! - I can't follow this anymore, I think.
Ill-mannered rabble. Unbelievable.
I guarantee that this will come with a price.
Do you have a light, Petikem!
There will be consequences.
Here.
- The tone of voice, unbelievable. - Why won't this go out?
- Sorry. - Don't apologise to them!
Hey! Didn't you say this will be a funeral?
- Yes, we came for our own funeral, Petikem. - Really?
Fuck! I'm thirsty.
Give him something to drink!
- You only have coke? - Thanks, that's good, I like it.
- You shouldn't be picky at your own funeral. - Right.
- See, that's what I hate about coke, rot in... - Wow, this is shit!
Take that, bastards!
See! Like I said, consequences for the bastard style and tone of voice.
I ask nicely... for a while.
Act like bastards, then expect a shit storm.
Happy new songs on our lips,
no sorrow in our hearts, says the song.
Our songs fill the town and the house,
Young and old sing outalike...
- Sorry. - Fuck you, get it, fuck you...
I've never seen such a beautiful cemetery.
Right, Petikem. This is a cemetery for the 3rd millennium.
Really? Look, the dead have moved away. Look!
It's so great that you're such an arse.
- I have this. - What the fuck is that?
- Awreath. - I can see that, but why the fuck do you have it?
That's what you bring to a funeral, no?
To a Jewish funeral? Get rid of it, you animal!
I swear, you're driving me insane.
- Fine, I'll put it up here. - You do that.
We should have put you on a bier a long time ago, you arse!
- Look, it's a machine gun! - Put it down, don't touch it!
- It's cool. - Isn't there enough chaos here? I said, put down the machine gun! You hear?
Hey, didn't the script call for a rusty one?
Stop messing around! Are you trying to kill me?
I was just, is this the trigger?
Oops!
Well, play around with your fucking mother, or you little dick!
- Sorry. - You dickhead!
- What? - What? What? What?
- Ok, so it fired, the gun fired. - Your father's dick, that's what fired,
that's why you're so dumb. Greetings, Mr. Jancso!
- Greetings! - Shut up!
How are you, Mr. Jancso?
- What did he say? - Ssh...
Yes, yes we are fine too, thank you.
- He said no one could be better. - Really?
Shut up... pardon? Oh, ok. Of course, for sure.
What? What was that?
He said, I should bitch slap you.
Mr. Jancso! Calm down, you're not alone anymore, we're here...
- The idiot Pepe. - And Pisti Marton.
- The dickhead Pisti Marton. - Me too of course.
And the homo Galko. The gang is back together.
Ok!
1, 2, 3, 4...
It's raining, yeah, yeah,
raining on field flowers,
On the poor soldiers, yeah, yeah,
velvet forehead,
Raining, getting wet,
the poor soldier is cold,
play the song, yeah, yeah...
...raining, getting wet,
the poor soldier is cold,
Play the song, yeah, yeah,
we'll get drenched before we get home.
How many home moons, how many useless
Livestock kept for their souls,
How many damaged faces, how many burnt out eyes,
How much do you need to get away with?
Scarred, are there any sick, are there any dreams, are there any ideas,
Or are they all going into the wood chipper?
How much unburied stupidity do you carry around,
How many reasons have you found, that have no cause?
Butwith sex and the sports news
Time passes and you lie there
awake at night, wondering is everyone dead?
If itworks, it works easily,
It's become easy to be mean.
Teenagers throw up sleet,
Then count their money, to see how much,
In the movies they yell out the ending,
And they heal nothing with sex,
They dream, that it's someone else's fault,
They look up and say: It doesn't hurt,
I said, it doesn't hurt,
I said, it doesn't hurt,
I said, it doesn't hurt,
It's a scar and there is probably no one on your land,
I walk at night on a rugged road, only my moon can come with me,
Butwith sex and a lot of theories
Time passes and you lie there
in something warm, soup, piss or someone's blood,
whatever, I said: It doesn't hurt,
I said, it doesn't hurt,
I said, it doesn't hurt,
I said, it doesn't hurt,
Kapa, it's your turn!
- No, it's not, Petikem. It's Mr. Hernadi's turn. - Oh.
- Mr. Hernadi! You should "chat" the rice! - What? Do what?
- What? Oh my God... - I think, that's enough.
I think that's enough. Ten minutes have passed, maybe more.
- More. - Sorry! I'm sorry Mr. Hernadi.
I'm sorry my dear Mr. Jancso, but we should stop. I don't fell right.
No, it's not my health that's the problem, that's fine.
I don't fell right with this.
I don't know what to do, what the name of the game is.
What am I doing here? What are we doing here?
I have no idea! There is no script,
what we have, is unreadable, chaotic. So I suggest, we stop here!
- Stop? - Stop, Mr. Hernadi.
- Not start? - Where should we start from?
- From the beginning, the very beginning. - Ok, fine, come on Petike, we're leaving.
- Me too? - Come on! - Ok.
Can I say something to you Zoli? Don't get upset!
Sorry, sorry, sorry... before I get angry...
I don't want to get angry, I just want to say Peter, Zolika,
that you know my wife really likes you two,
and she watches these films, but says,
that you're unwatchable, because you can't come up with anything new,
only how to swear, and things like that.
So she said, nor she, nor her family,
no one will start watching and they don't even watch these films.
- That's it, ok? That's it. - I get you. Dear Mr. Jancso, firstly,
please don't get upset, mostly because of the popularity,
because this film won't be watched, just like your other films.
One. Two: I'm glad, that you listen to someone, that they tell you off at home,
because Peti and I didn't get through, that we need to figure something out,
something better, but you didn't listen to us.
Pepe's mum said after the first half,
- that he speaks really horribly, and she doesn't like it. - That's true.
Ok. Oh, I'd like to also say that Shakespeare was crude too,
but the two faced translators drummed it down.
Oh and kisses to Zsuzsika.
- Fuck you! - I'll take some grapes.
- Fine, take it, take it! Go! - Ciao!
For it has borne you, and at death will consecrate your dust!
No other spot in the entire world can touch your heartlike home-
let fortune bless or fortune curse, from hence you shall not roam!
...let fortune bless or fortune curse... - Thanks!
...from hence you shall not roam... - Oops! Bye! Ok, fine, sleep!
- Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha... - What is it, Mr. Hernadi, why are you laughing?
- Mr. Hernadi's laughing? - I don't know.
- You can't tell. - You can't tell what he is doing.
- Hey, I don't really get this, what is it? - What? What don't you get?
- Well this stuff here. - Don't be such a bloody dickhead.
Look, its symbolism.
- It's an old, beat up cupboard... this... represents the past. - Really?
- You open the door and out comes... well what comes out? - What?
- What? - Askeleton?
- Exactly, the skeletons of the past, get it? - Well no.
You won't be the only one, Petikem, this film will only appeal to a small group again.
Life is great if nothing bothers you,
We still have 100 litters ofwine in the barrel,
You only need one liter ofwine, so you don't care aboutanything.
Life is great if nothing bothers you,
We still have 100 liters ofwine in the barrel,
You only need one liter ofwine, so you don't care aboutanything.
Life is great if nothing bothers you,
We still have 100 liters ofwine in the barrel,
You only need one liter ofwine, so you don't care aboutanything.
- What, Petikem? - What?
- What are you doing? - Nothing, I've just missed the point.
- You missed that a long time ago. - Sorry, but I don't understand.
This is... what are we doing here?
We're standing here and your looking for the point.
- But what are we? - Prisoners, POW's.
- POW's. - POW's get it?
- POW's. What? - I said we are POW's.
Why are you laughing?
You didn't think you'd be a POW in you own country, right?
No I didn't think that, for sure.
But I don't get it. I don't get the whole thing. But whatever.
Petikem! This is history.
- This? - Yes, since the beginning of time,
it's been like this. - Kapa, get fucked, you and your history!
- Sorry! - Hey, hey, hey, don't talk like that!
- We're past that point in the film. - Ok, sorry... sorry.
You know. Say something like get fenugened...
Ok, Kapa. Get fenugened, you and your history!
Sorry! You keep going on about Julius Caesar and Napoleon.
- Yes? - I still don't get it. I know too,
that when the Turkish took over, they told us they would free us,
and we became POW's. But not this... Look, a healthy bridge!
Cars coming and going, look!
- Mitsubishi's and everything. They're standing on that bridge too. - Petike!
- Stop! Stop already! - We are here.
Seriously, I think in this case,
I think they raised the placenta instead of the baby. - Leave me alone!
- This is film! - Yeah? - Moving pictures.
- Symbolism, get it? - Right?
- No. - See, placenta.
Excuse me... Do you speak English?
Umm... Hable espanol? No?
- Petike, try in Hungarian! - Hungarian?
- Do you speak... Hungarian? - A little Hungarian.
- A little, fine... speak Hungarian. - A little Hungarian.
Can I ask... Look, how sweet that girl is!
Let me ask, what... what are we doing here?
- It's... it's... war. - It's... war.
- War. - Ok... so it's...
- We had a strategy meeting... - Strategy... meeting.
- The commander's... - Yeah.
Not him, he's a Major.
- OK, fine, alright, ok. - Don't drink the spirit from the IVF baby!
The idiot is laughing, he doesn't understand a word.
- You know... hey, you know when he speaks Hungarian. - Do you get it already?
- When I'm an Eskimo. - But you get it?
I don't get it, so I'll just piss off, sorry.
I'll stop a car and get lost, I'll go down to the Balaton.
Hello!
- Hello! - These are the Germans.
Excuse me, good afternoon! Would you take me to the Balaton?
Thank you. Hey, they know me!
Alright, bye. Close the door!
Get lost! Leave me alone, I want to go to the Balaton!
I want to go to the Balaton!
- Die, Kapa! Die, I don't want to be a POW! - You're not going anywhere!
- It's war! You can't go anywhere! - I don't want to be a POW!
I don't... Gergo! Take me to the Balaton!
It's war, Peti! You almost left with the enemy, idiot.
- Are you crazy? - Fuck!
The bush is rustling, the bird landed there,
my soul is shaking, as I think of you there,
I remembered you, little girl,
You're the world's biggest pearl!
The Danube is full, it might even flood.
My heartis overflowing, it boils the blood.
Do you love me? I love you very much,
Your parents, didn't love you this much.
How nice... it's a shame she doesn't understand.
She does, Petike! We are kin languages.
- Pretty poem, no? - Pretty, I get it!
Dzsugasvili, hello! How did you like the poem?
- Does he understand? - Of course, he does,
I told you: Kin languages.
- Do you know, how many kin languages we have, Petikem? - How many?
Listen here! Jewish, Egyptian, Sumerian, Etruscan, Hittite, Basque, Persian,
Pellas, Greek, Chinese, Sanskrit, English... - Listen?
Tibetan, Tamil, Kamchutkan, Siberian, Japanese, Ainu, Dravidian, Maori,
Magor, Chine, Lepcha, Dafla, Aborimiri, Hasi, Mikir,
Monda, Kond, Armenian...
- Are you insane? - What? - What are you doing?
We're prisoners, Petikem! POW's, get it?
- Listen Kapa... - Don't do anything stupid, Peti!
- Listen? I like her, she's cute. - Come on, come on!
I like her a lot!
Sorry, there's no problem.
- Stop it... - Listen? Are you listening!
Look, she's looking at me, see?
Look!
Please sit!
One more time! Stand up!
You may sit. The National Tribunal's
meeting on November 8th 1944 has begun.
The prosecution may give its opening statement.
Sorry Gnadige Frau, bitte!
Speak Hungarian! I'm an integrated German.
If it pleases the court, I will read two excerpts from letters sent by mail.
So:
To Janos Kadar comrade, Hungarian socialists labour party's,
first secretary, Budapest. - What?
I don't understand. Who?
Dear comrade Kadar!
The trust and respect, that surrounds you from our people,
made me put pen to paper, to find you,
in a matter of national importance with my letter.
- The writer Gyula Hernadi... - Hernadi! Please stand!
Gyula Hernadi wrote a historically and literature wise,
disputable film.
In which, for instance, a young communist worker woman on death row...
I don't understand.
Is portrayed as having the last wish: To have sex one more time.
I don't understand.
...to have sex one more time,
with anyone. The prisoner, the warden, the commander, even the prison priest.
- I will not list what the Jancso-Hernadi pair... - Jancso, Hernadi! Stand up!
...what the Jancso-Hernadi pair's sick films show,
the disgusting scenes, I would just like to ask one question... - Sit down!
...how does this film fit with socialist morality,
with the communist ethics?
Respectable congress, dear comrades!
Our party detests those who don't respect the proletarian internationalism.
The rabble who try to undermine our unity.
Detests a nation being small minded.
The bourgeois nationalism...
10 forints for fried pastries, who gives a shit aboutJanos Kadar.
10 forints for fried pastries, who gives a shit aboutJanos Kadar.
20 forints forwarm pastries, long live Janos Kadar!
20 forints forwarm pastries, long live Janos Kadar!
50 forints for, lukewarm pastries, what about us, Janos Kadar?
50 forints for, lukewarm pastries, what about us, Janos Kadar?
100 forints for cold pastries, come back, Janos Kadar!
No pastries for the retired, who's not helping? Janos Kadar.
No pastries for the retired, who's not helping? Janos Kadar.
Come on, move! Move, don't talk back, move it!
Get a move on!
Don't talk back! Shut up!
Come on! Move already!
- Poor Miklos. - Who? Miklos who?
- Miklos Jancso. - How do you know it's him?
He's been my friend forever.
See the sun is going down, different large wild animals
Going in the night, to eat the orphans.
What is this, Mr. Matron?
A hospital, Mr. Hernadi. A hospital.
This is what's cool. Hospitals with music and a show.
- And my friend? - Who?
- Miklos Jancso? - Jancso?
Writer, sir your friend is in the OR.
We're warming up the bed for the director - it's how he likes it.
Don't worry, here every second operation is successful.
Sometimes the first too.
Success, total success.
Thank you all for the operation.
- You can wake him. - Wake him? I'm trying, chief surgeon.
I'm trying, but nothing's happening.
What's not working, you pathetic idiot? What? Waking him up?
No, I can wake him up, waking him... ok, so no I can't wake him.
- I can't, ok... - You can't?
- No, it's impossible. It's like a story. - What?
You killed a man. Not just anyone, but someone!
An important person. And you go and kill this important person!
- Because you're an arse! - Kapa, please, don't get upset!
- It's... - Get, get your mitts away from here!
- Please, don't get upset! - Ok, ok. - One: He wasn't important...
- Not to you, maybe. - Not to me.
Two: You know this happens, no? One in a hundred thousand chance...
Shut up, at least! Admit, what you did, you bastard!
They fire you from everywhere, see? They don't even want to hear your name!
Not even! They call you, dog catcher and executioner!
But me, the arse, brought you here!
Right, cause you're my friend! So much for my kind heart!
Bastard! And you dare defend yourself?
Well? You piece of shit!
What about him, chief surgeon?
Bury him with the director.
- But he's alive! - Really? Then give him an IVthrough his dick!
- Not in his butt? - No! In his cock, sheriff.
Understand?
Hello, sweet, dear Peterkem!
Oh I'm so happy, come on, come on.
I got you back from the netherworld.
- I'm glad. - But I'm sorry, I don't really want to stay.
This would be... this would be embarrassing.
Oh my dear Peti, you have to come, you have to!
If you sent the director to the netherworld,
you have to attend his funeral.
I'm sorry but he didn't wake up, I had nothing to do with it,
really, nothing to do with it at all.
My dear Peter, I think you aren't seeing the situation clearly.
The defence attorney has nothing to do with the client getting the death sentence,
but if his client gets executed, he has to attend the hanging.
Even though it wasn't he who murdered, it was his client.
They don't hang the lawyer, but he is still present.
I'm sorry, Kapa... chief surgeon, what's on your head?
My dear Peter, it's a yarmulke. A kippah.
- What? - You have to wear it if you attend a Jewish funeral.
- So it's true that the director was Jewish? - No fucking way was the director Jewish!
He got a grave stone out of respect in the Jewish cemetery.
- Oh, right out of respect. - Respect, right.
Someone put a jacket on this killer, we're in a hurry!
Son of bitch!
Leave the erotica, Casanova, we're going to a funeral, move it!
Wherever I go, the starry sky looks down on me and laughs.
Where ever the wheel of power turns,
It's always you that comes.
Walk I on roads, or hill tops,
Be there a hundred wind storms, my dove.
To my heart you are eternal hope,
This song flies to you.
The wind takes it far in the sky,
Above it the sky burns.
Give me your sweet hands,
Who knows, will I see you again...
Hey, are you all insane? What are you doing?
Are you mad?
I swear I'm about to flip my lid.
I swear I've never seen anything like this.
- Insane? - Let's get out of here!
- What are you doing, Petike? - Sorry, but I was sitting there.
But you're in bad shape. Sit in the back, lie down!
- Oxygen mask, IV. - Maybe you're right.
Fix yourself up.
Stupid pricks!
Stupid pricks! Stupid pricks! Stupid pricks!
Stupid pricks! Stupid pricks! Stupid pricks! Jerks!
I totally don't get it. Are we in the ambulance, or here, how?
- Stop it, Petikem! - I'm finally starting, to understand why it's like this.
- And? - You're an alien. That's why the film is chaotic.
- Hey, can I ask a question? - Sure.
- What's with you? - If I say you can't ask, won't you?
No, I'd still ask, What's with you?
- What happened? What's wrong? - Why? Nothing.
- But you're bald! - And you have no brains, but I don't get upset.
- Seriously, why? Hey? Are you sick? - What?
- Typhus, or what? - Your mother's sick.
But... is it contagious? Then I'll move away!
Petike! I'm balding because of your dumb questions,
the world, this whole thing. All I need now is Pisti Marton.
Basically, we find the Jews incapable of assimilation.
We find all those Hungarian, who are of Hungarian decent,
even those, from who circumstance, education or other factors
- have extinguished the Hungarian soul. - I said, shut up!
- What's your names? - Mine? Pepe and he's Kapa.
- No, no, no! Your last names. - Leave me out of it!
- Last name? Scherer. - S-C-H?
- S-C-H, yes. - Scherer. There is something here.
We find people from other nationalities, Hungarian,
if they are believers of the Hungarian mentality,
they break away from all other nations' culture,
and they accept the fate of Hungarians as their own.
Are you a patient or doctor? I said, don't look at me, you make me sick!
- My father was Jewish. - Really?
Yes. But my ancestors fought in the Hungarian revolution!
They've accepted me as a real Hungarian.
They welcomed me. One of my ancestors was Lajos Kossuth's secretary.
- And I'm... - You're a prick.
- Bela, he's a patient, an idiot. - If a Jew is dumb he's really dumb.
The problem isn't that he's dumb, but that he stinks.
Can you smell it? Your breath smells... have you been eating garlic?
- Ok, my stomach... - Onions or what? The valve doesn't close?
- I was looking around for the dung heap. - Ok, I just ate...
Shut up and don't look at me!
- We're in a green field and you stink, like a skunk. - Don't look at me, stinky!
- I'll throw you out! - Laca! Laca! Sorry, can you tell him, to please,
- officer, tell him to stop, ok? - Get off and take your book!
- Ok, I'd like to get off! - But I just had a bunch of gum...
- Enough. Go, we're getting off. - Kapa, let's get the hell off!
- Get fucking going! - Let's throw Pisti out!
- Oh, fuck! - Throw him out! Get out!
Get in!
Stop it, don't talk back, get going!
Good day! Escaping are we?
Helping Europe into the Bolshevik barbarians arms?
Committing treason? Ok, I know, you're Jewish.
- What should I expect? - Sorry, what's the shovel for?
- Oh, oops... Entschuldigung, gnadige Frau... - Speak Hungarian, I'm an integrated German.
Integrated, Petike! Wow!
- Hey, how do you know? - Explain to him Kapa!
- Yes, I'll explain. - Do you know her?
- Petikem, let's go one at a time. Ok? - Ok.
- One: Shovel. Agricultural hand tool. - Really?
- Get it? - Oh... isn't that what they dig with?
Exactly, they make them dig their own graves.
Habit of war: The prisoners dig their own graves.
- Two... - What Pisti Marton and Bela will be executed?
- Of course, they're Jewish. - And? We have to save them!
Don't worry, Peterke! Relax, relax, relax, I'm not done.
So where were we... two: Where do I know the girl from?
- Right? - Well you know her too, Peter. - Me?
- The theatre! - She was there?
Yes she was there, she started booing,
booing when we stepped onstage and said:
"Friends to this ground. And liegemen to the Dane!".
She booed, her and her friends, right, dear?
- Mein Schatzchen. - Don't touch me!
Oops! Oops, oops, see, Peterke?
- I see. - See what the displeased audience can do?
They can kill. My dear!
- The problem is, there are only two bullets. - How do you know?
That's a big problem. I know everything, Petikem!
And you can't reload, dear.
- Hey, Kapa! - What?
- That's a shovel! - Ok, dear, shoot! Shoot already!
Oops... Oops!
I said, that she only has two bullets.
One... two.
Oops, a minute, bitte!
Wow!
Wow!
Kapa!
- Listen, you just kissed her. - Oh, don't be disgusting!
- How would I have kissed her? - Hey, don't lie!
- Do you know what a kiss is, Peti? - Well...
If you're uncertain, I'll show you.
Wow, poor girl!
The Russian tanks are here!
Kapa! Now you kissed her, don't say anything!
Gnadige Frau, the Russian tanks are here!
They're here. Hello!
Hello, hello, Hello!
We over here... welcome!
Bienvenue, or... Listen, they might shoot.
Don't worry, it's lucky, that you know so many languages.
- Come here! - Whatever, I'll put my hands up.
Are you afraid?
Kapa, let's forget it?
You're going to die, little rabbit.
You don't want to lie down with me first?
Fine... it's fine like this too.
You were a scout right? We were.
- Fuck you! - I understand.
So start: Rise, rise, you prisoners of the earth...
Take this off, so you have a chance.
Start singing!
- Rise, rise, you prisoners of the earth... - That's it!
...Rise, rise, hungry proletarian.
Days of victory have come,
Your days of imprisonment are over.
Kapa, this is empty!
They control it from far, with a joystick.
Come on, come look!
So cool!
There's a bunch of oranges and bananas! You what some?
Look! Mandarins too. Hey!
Sugar, sweets and all things nice.
The whole thing is full of presents. Super!
Hello... hello!
Bicycle. Present? For me?
- I got a bike as a present. - Your beautiful, beautiful bike.
You're so... pretty.
Petikem, you dropped your present!
- Sorry, thanks. - Sorry.
Europe? America? You can go to America with it!
Riding a bike in war, God...
- Do you know what the dream book says about it, Bela? - What?
Blessing of children all year.
- Poor Pepe. - Poor little girl.
- Good, right? - Ok, very good.
- Ding-dong! - Will you be here for long?
Whatever, it doesn't matter.
- Ok. - Good?
- Fine, fine. - Ok.
It's a shame I don't understand.
Come on, Bela! Talk to him!
It won't be so good, if they stay here.
He say's he want's to talk to you.
- Watch out, no breaks! Watch out! - Ok, come on.
- He's not normal. - No.
They say, they will be here for ten years.
They brought a bike and I think they'll stay for forty years.
No, he said ten. Ten years.
- Are you insane, Petikem, what are you doing? - What? I'm riding my bike.
- Your such an arse, we're at war you idiot! - Hey!
I'm just trying my new bike.
- During war, rot in hell! - And... and?
Why do I still talk to this arse, Bela?
- Because you love him, no? - No, because I'm an arse too.
- What are you doing? - I'll take my boots off, ok, they like it. This is war.
- You have to take your boots off? - Hey, it's better if you take them off too,
because if they take them off, maybe they'll rip your leg off too.
- It's very cold. - You can catch a cold in war.
- Do they want the socks too? - No, I just don't want it to get dirty.
- Now all we need is a watch. - What?
Bela... a watch!
- Watch? - You're getting to be like Pepe.
- Look! - Get it, you're just as dumb.
- Ok, look! If it's a watch you want. - Pretty.
- This is the oldest, see? - Kapcsi, come help!
- No good, they like wristwatches, Bela. - Hello, Kapa!
- Wristwatch? - Kapa!
- What. - Then put this away!
Kapa! Kapa!
- Three... and! - Help!
See the sun is going down, different large wild animals,
Going in the night, to eat the orphans.
- Some eatwomen... - Um, that's not me.
They take them apartat the disco,
And they take their remains to a room.
But there are some who rip out the soul,
Throw the meat to dogs, that's notwhat they want,
Take their hearts in a bag, down to hell, where they pay good money
for the night shift, though secretly they know,
that feeding fallen angels is forbidden.
That feeding fallen angels is forbidden.
That feeding fallen angels is forbidden.
Gentlemen, gentleman! Kapa, Pepe! Have fun!
Dear sitting guests!
Stand up! Sit down! Stand up! Sit down!
Louis XIV, in the court of the Sun King, had the habit of,
sitting at a table by himself while he ate,
with the court watching him eat.
Today that's not the same, Today we have democracy,
and as you can see, there are three people at our table.
But unfortunately the feast is not for everyone yet.
So we will put two questions to you,
for a chicken wing, given to each kid.
The first question is from the liberating Russian army commander.
Go ahead!
Long live our nations' unbreakable friendship!
I write to you - what else is there?
What else, what more may I attempt?
I know, now it's only fair To keep my poor heartin contempt
- Where am I quoting from? - Where is he quoting from?
For the despondent fate of mine,
And saving empathy's warm tot,
You won't forsake me, you will not!
Very nice. So...
Where, from who was the Russian quoting?
No one... then no bread, no bacon.
The second question will be asked by our friend,
from the home of boundless possibilities, the land of the free,
from America. Go ahead!
- Thank You, Sir. - You're Welcome.
River run, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay,
brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation,
back to Howth Castle and Environs.
Sir Tristram, violer d'amores, from over the short sea,
had passencore rearrived from North Armorica,
on this side the scraggy isthmus of Europe Minor
to wielderfight his penisolate war.
So... who was he quoting from?
Right, congratulations! James Joyce, bravo!
And the reward will not be forgotten.
The chicken.
Hey, yo! Fiief Feri, Trianon denying Tibi, a. k. A 3T,
National Joska, the rascal Sanyi from Bakony, conservative Tibi, Bandi Magician.
Greasy skaters -hello!
Fold a way, bikers -hello!
- And the DJ... in the house. - Hello!
Hello! Hello!
Wait, wait, wait, wait! Yo, what does the Hungarian nation want?
Hungarian national hip-hop rap!
What does the Hungarian nation want?
Hungaropannon-national- Hungarian rap!
- Hello! - Wait, wait, wait, wait!
Hey, yo! It hurts the ears and the heart,
why is our radio full of every night
western music, not comforting, nice Hungarian rap.
The media is full of mostly the west,
that's notwhy we came here from Levedia,
Hungarian music, Hungarian words,
home rap, hip-hop sons!
Nice words, ethical topics,
behaviour fit for a thousand year past!
Because hip-hop about porno and drugs, we don'twant,
let's educate with Hungarian rap!
Unethical people will betray you and feel good,
they don't deserve the riches of the Hungarian rap field.
Stand up straight, set an example,
speak the truth, and the country will be proud!
Don't pull your cap down!
Don't pull your pants down to the crotch!
Wide eyed Hungarian rappers,
twisted moustaches, not pubic hair.
Moustache of a Hungarian rapper, like a Hungarian ox's horns,
it stands up straight, doesn't droop,
doesn't look like a goatee.
Hip-hop...
Hungarian... hip-hop.
Wait, wait, wait, wait!
A Hungarian rapper, shouldn'twear a baseball cap,
which hides the nice Hungarian forehead.
A Hungarian rapper, should wear crane feathered hats,
recite pretty Hungarian words, in Hungarian!
Boys! We have our own Tisza shoe brand,
western rappers should wearwestern brands!
If you say gangster, I say, "rascal",
butin stead of"rascal", I can also say "goon".
Greasy haired kids mimic the obscene USA rap,
western gunk pours from the TV,
why don't they write rap songs about our pretty home?
When we have such pretty sights, the endless plains,
In all of Europe the bustard bird only hatch,
the beautiful Balaton, the Hungarian beach,
rap about that, that's what the Hungarians want
This is Vazul's, Koppany's blood,
Strange language rappers step aside!
Kun Bela rappers, go east,
Clinton rappers, your place is in the west!
This is Vazul's, Koppany's blood,
Strange language rappers step aside!
Kun Bela rappers, go east,
Clinton rappers, your place is in the west!
Csango breakers - hello!
Szekely skaters - hello!
Vojvodina graffiti artists - hello!
Slovak goons - hello!
Hip-hop...
Hungarian... hip-hop.
Standing in the fields, my pants are baggy,
I'm poor, my stomach is growling.
Staring at the bushes, thinking big thoughts:
Hungarian stars in the Hungarian sky!
Western winds are blowing, mirage is shining,
I'm Hungarian, I'm a szittya,
I don't want much, just one thing:
Hungarian national hip-hop!
Hungarian national hip-hop!
Hungarian national hip-hop!
Hungarian national hip-hop, Hungarian national hip-hop!
Hungarian national hip-hop, Hungarian national hip-hop!
Hungarian national hip-hop, Hungarian national hip-hop!
Hungarian national hip-hop, Hungarian national hip-hop!
Hungarian national hip-hop, Hungarian national hip-hop!
Hungarian national hip-hop, Hungarian national hip-hop!
Hungarian national hip-hop, Hungarian national hip-hop!
Hungarian national hip-hop, Hungarian national hip-hop!
Hungarian national hip-hop!
Ladies and gentlemen, let's start the press conference!
If you have any questions, ask them now.
- Here you go, Mame! - I would like to ask the ladies and gentlemen...
Excuse me, please forgive me! Have we met before?
Excuse me, I think I was wrong The person I met,
didn't bite, just scratch. Go ahead, ask!
- Sorry, but I remember that... - Maybe my memory is bad, dear.
Do you know what the most important question is?
Why are we POW's in our own country.
Right, Mr. Hernadi?
- If you treat us according to the Hague convention, but you don't... - Hi!
...even though the Hague convention is in effect in every country.
- Hi! - POW convention.
- Excuse me, sir, just a picture, if you please! - Sure, go ahead!
Thank you.
Happy, new songs on our lips,
no sorrow in our hearts, says the song.
- Good afternoon, director! - Good afternoon!
- How are you, are you waiting for someone? - Death.
- Oh, you're waiting for Mr. Hernadi? - Yes, do you know him?
Well I've read a few things from him.
Wow, this technology is great. What is this, what are we doing?
- We are trying to shoot a film. - Really?
We are looking for a location and I'm waiting to go there, to the location.
- Mr. Director! Come on, I'll take you! - It's far away.
- I don't care, we'll go around, it's ok. Ok? - Ok.
Don't get involved! Would you like to drive?
Mr. Director can we take that girl with us?
Mr. Director! Please tell the little Russian girl that we'll take her too, ok?
- Who? - That pretty Russian girl.
- I've liked her for a long time. - What Russian girl?
The one... who was with you, Mr. Director before.
- That little... - I was alone.
No... are you telling the truth?
Sometimes, no. Where do you know me from?
You don't recognise me? I'm Pepe, I'm Pepe. We work together.
- Oh, with the tall... - Oh with Kapa.
- Oh, Kapa sure. - We were the pair.
- Kapa, sure. - You remember know?
Sure, sure are you together... do you still work together?
Well, sometimes. But it's getting old, that's the truth.
Oh, I don't think so, you were good.
Say, did your friend Kapa know the Russian girl too?
No thank god, that's the last thing I need.
Guess what, Mr. Director, when we were freed...
- Let's go, let's go this way, ok? - Ok, good. Yeah, the location.
- The crew will wait for a us here. - Ok, ok.
Imagine, Mr. Director, in '45 when they freed us
I got a mountain bike from the Russian girl.
- When? - As a gift. '45 when we were freed.
- A mountain bike? - Right, a bike.
Sorry, Pepe, but a mountain bike is newer than that, they didn't have them then.
Sure, absolutely and I was there too.
- Were you dreaming? Dreaming. - Um...
I, Mr. Director I never dream. Seriously!
- You don't say! - Rarely, but mostly not.
- I live in the real world. - Dreams are real too, Pepe.
Novels, films. Poems too.
- Poems are real, like dreams... - Life: Heartand knife under one sky...
- You can catch the ocean with look... - What do you catch with a hook?
A few fish.
Nice. Nice, just a little flat.
It's nice, but a little flat.
- Do you know what you're saying? Sorry. - Right, it's flat.
It's nice, but flat. That's what I said.
I get it, but do you know who you said it about? Do you know who the poet is?
- Sure. - It wasn't just anyone.
No, but it's flat, it's nice. Just flat somehow.
- That's the problem. - I'm just starting to get to know him...
- You're Kapa, right? - Did you recognize me, director?
- Good day! - Sure, I do.
I'm surprised because it was so hard for you to understand.
- Well it's hard to understand when you talk. - Life is hard.
What's with the short one? Your friend.
Oh... the midget? Pepe. We act together.
Unfortunately. Right, Pepe? We seem inseparable, but I hope we separate.
- Ok. - Pepe, we can go soon, get a move on!
Let's go!
The glasses and the English totally change your face, Peti.
Are you doing ok, director? Making a movies just like Hollywood.
You really hit the freedom stuff.
Sorry... I don't speak English.
No, no, it's ok, talk to me Hungarian!
Fine, fine, I love your language, it's a fine language.
And your songs... why don't you sing me a song?
Well, ok... I understood that. Then I'll sing something, ok?
Let's hear it!
Hungarian soldier goes to the forest,
A Russian comes and asks for advice,
Just you wait Russian, I'll give you advise,
Fuck your hammer and your scythe!
- Hey, Peter, were did you get that? - I know this and the Kodaly method.
- Really? - I can do scales too.
- Really? - Really, I was in the choir too.
Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do, Jews eat pork-o.
Hey, Peter, stop that, ok?
- Director, did you know who that was? - Yes.
Jews from the work camp.
Director! Did you know that in Guatemala
there's a tribe that hates Jews?
Though no one in the tribe has ever met,
or seen, ever, one Jew.
Then how did it happen "the hatred of Jews"- category?
First of all we have to know, the tribe is very religious.
The leaders taught them that the Jews are responsible for the death of Christ.
And something else too,
the local culture speaks of an ancient pagan myth.
It was about an evil spirit who killed a god.
These two emotionally strong beliefs effect each other,
and when the two meet you have the hateful attitude towards Jews.
Nice, but very textbook like. You don't mind if I say it's textbook?
- No. - You learnt that, Peter?
- I read it somewhere. - You read it.
Peter, come here! Come here, Peter!
- What? - What? War, come here!
Leave me alone, I'm taking the director to the location. Get off the front of the car!
What director, what location? This is war, get it!
Come on, Peter!
Are you listening? Come on!
- Here's a gun, take it! - Listen, Kapa!
- My God, you look bad, Peter. - Kapa, I don't want to...
- What? What's up? - God!
- You look bad. - I don't know.
- Look at yourself in the mirror, do you have one? - No.
Going to war without a mirror... Here!
- You don't want to fight. - God!
Then why are you doing this? What will you say, you got mushroom poisoning?
Look, Peter! Run... yell... shoot!
- Then you can be a hero. - Kapa, I don't want to be a hero!
Why, you think all heroes wanted to be that?
Everything's ok.
They are resting peacefully.
What are you doing? Come on, don't put it down! Come on!
- Kapa, they're shooting! - They're shooting everywhere, Peti!
Either you become a hero, or you die here crapping your pants.
Then go, I'd rather stay here. I'd rather be a living nobody, than a dead hero!
My god, Kapa! Hey, what's up?
- My leg cramped. - Yeah, I feel it it's really hard.
Wow, shit! My head hurts so much it's about to explode.
I hope I don't get a cold.
- Fine, I'm going. I think, you stay here. - I'd go too.
No, stay, your on camera.
The National Courts decision:
Out of mercy... death by firing squad.
Oh, God,
defence and protection,
my hope in my travels...
- Kapa? Do you hear it? - I heard.
- Is the director singing? - Yeah.
Do you know what this is: Wake up, mate, don't you sleep...
Ok, stop it! Let's go cause there will be trouble.
The new age pours water in the name of esoteric,
This is an alternative service.
Eso-bio-oco, meditation vital, vital.
I'm a shaman, a real shaman, shaman, shaman.
You heard my voice, heard my drums.
Drum, drum, horse, horse,
Travelling, travelling, through the stars.
I live in an apartment, on the 5th floor.
The lord of the underworld, is the land lord on the first,
Lords of up above, are the Toth family on the 6th.
Don't shoot, don't drum, don't come!
This is a ten minute trance, stay there!
I push my will on you.
Travelling, travelling fast,
Fiighting with ghosts with speed,
I bless hip-hop,
You'll getwhat you deserve,
For only 5000, it's cheap,
But the Toth's are buzzing at my door, that's all.
Joy, beautiful spark of the gods,
Daughter of Elysium,
We enter fire imbibed,
Heavenly, thy sanctuary.
Thy magic reunites those
Whom stern custom has parted;
All men will become brothers
Under thy gentle wing.
- Do you want to smoke, Gyula? - If you lend me yours, but you don't lend your pipe.
Well no. Our friend Zoli is coming.
Good day, Mr. Jancso!
- Hello, Zolika! - Hello.
- Who are we? - Thanks, I'm good.
Good day, Mr. Hernadi! How are you?
- Thank you, thank you. - What are you doing here?
Waiting for Peter. I thought your friend would be here already.
Oh, Peter left. And maybe he won't be back.
- He's in love. - Oh! - Really.
- The little flower girl. - The Russian girl.
- Russian girl. - In what language do they speak to each other?
None, Mr. Hernadi, no language, it's a symbol,
and you should stop with the symbols Mr. Jancso!
You should say something concrete.
- Gyula! - There are something's, but they are secrets.
- Mr. Jancso you don't know anything? - Well one thing: Cunt.
- Oh... cunt, not bad. Not bad. - Balazs, Balazs is coming.
What's up little guy, what are you looking for here?
- What do you mean what, my bike! - Your bike, it's here, there you go!
- Take it and push it away. Bye! - What should I do with it?
- Push your bike away! - Who came up with that?
- He did. - Get lost!
- Bike guy. - Have you seen this before?
Well not as yet, but it may be practical, because:
...he doesn't have to reap hay for his horses.
No... Mr. Jancso, you really should say something concrete.
Saying "cunt" as something concrete... that's not good enough.
Maybe you're right. Well...
Fiilms are real, like dreams,
Life: Heartand knife under one sky...
So flat.
Yes... flat.
Dismount!
Who's in the store?
Life is great if nothing bothers you,
We still have 100 liters ofwine in the barrel,
You only need one liter ofwine,
so you don't care aboutanything.
Life is great if nothing bothers you,
We still have 100 liters ofwine in the barrel,
You only need...
- Thank you. ... of wine in the barrel...
so you don't care aboutanything.
Hello!
Mr. Jancso now what?
- Why? - Feri, come here for a second!
Come on! Ask him, what the end will be.
- How do we end it, Miki? - This isn't good?
- What will the end of the film be? - This.
Ok, then wait, I'll put your coat in, ok?
- Bye! - Ladies and gentalman, it's over!
- That's it! - I said, the film is done, you can go home.
They threw outa candlestick from the fourth floor.
They made us march for three days.
Everyone collapsed where they were standing.
I'm staring at the ground.
And thinking this is such soft ground.
She's waiting to take me back,
because I have returned.
I'll stay here, my home is in you,
I think.
I'm not allowed to get up from here.
I think.
My grandfather,
when he got to this part of the story,
would lift his head and scream so loud his mouth turned black.
...Aufstehen! Schnell! Los! Schnell! Los!"
I would think, lying there on the ground,
keep yelling, there's no point yelling at me anymore,
I've already retuned to the earth.
See how vain man is.
He thinks he controls his own life.
Well I think that in vain,
everything turns out differently.
The German stands above me.
Warum stehst du nicht aufmein lieberJude?
I look up at him.
I see he has taken outhis gun.
Well, is this the end?
But I didn'twant it to happen by his will butmine.
Please,
shoot me!
Buthe didn't shoot
He putaway his gun.
He looked at me.
Spat on me.
Then kicked me, but didn't shoot
He leftme on the road,
live.
When the good comes
black becomes
white from then on
separates from black, like
leaf from the branch.
In November
and in man,
beauty blooms,
Butterflies land on it,
The dark is sighing inside.
Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
With a torch,
and with a girl,
the good descends,
To find out what happens down here,
Who is the dark sigher,
They go from level to level
Like in the films,
And the beast dances to music,
And fights and excites, and the light goes out
Who is in there? Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
Who is in there? Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
Who is in there? Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
Who is in there? Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
Then quiet, and the guts down there,
So the girl ends up alone,
She sits in the dark and blood drops,
are whipped, unfortunately on her,
Because then the creator of good
and things from steel
go toward her, because the order
is giving up, is so good,
Beautiful people
all love me
Tired people
all love me
Beautiful people
all love me
tired people
all love me, love me.
Who is in there? Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
Who is in there? Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
Who is in there? Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
Who is in there? Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
Who is in there? Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
Who is in there? Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
Who is in there? Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
Who is in there? Who is in there?
Who is in there, hello?
If she leaves the beast,
and comes back withouta word
to the factory, and looks down from the sky
"bread be heavy".
Distributed by Leon Film and Navigator Film.
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