Original subtitles

SPlnka present:

A P F Co-production:

Oh, if l were a queen!

Hear her prattle like a machine.

Poison the king, take his crown.

Me? l'd rather be a businessman.

Kill, butcher, don't say no!

No, l'm an honourable man.

No, no, honour is a foolish thing.

King and queen of Foland we'd be.

Furs for you, hat and umbrella for me...

Oh, oh, on sausages to feed...

Oh, oh, a crown is what l need...

Throne sweet throne, to take the helm of the state!

Throne sweet throne, for such is our fate!

- Kick 'em! - Muffle! Muzzle!

- Win over, take over! - Balls!

- By the balls! - Grab the nation!

- Yes, yes! - It's a sign from heaven!

- Kill! - Kill! And take control!

- 'cos to want! - Is to have!

- You're a king! - l'm a leader!

A film by Piotr Szulkin

UBU KING

based on the work by Alfred Jarry

starring:

Friends! The time is ripe!

Let's face it...

...there is no liberty!

No fraternity!

None!

No equality!

None!

Exploitation and terror are the true faces of Monarchy!

There's no beer.

Beer for everyone!

- And who's paying for the beer? - Our country's rich!

The nation good and wise!

Why then are we punished by Fate, why is there no beer?!

Yes, yes.

As a scientist and professor, gaudeamus igitur, let me tell you

that national shrite can make the nation rich.

We must build huge silos.

Gather shrite...

...and let it ferment

until it produces gas.

And gas can do anything, anything!

Beer and electricity and heating, cars and moonshine,

and pay off the state's debts!

l submitted a project.

They refused it. They told me

to test it on my own shrite... But you need national shrite!

You see how this patriot has been treated by the system.

Brilliant ideas completely wrecked. Shrite! Treachery!

The nation deprived of shrite-y beer!

Treachery! More beer!

More beer!

- And who's paying for the beer?! - The nation!

Break your chains! Let's have democracy!

Aye, Let's!

Let's roll in the riches the tyrant has stolen!

Aye! Let's! Let's!

Royal beer for the people!

Long live! Long live democracy!

Behold the tyrant! Take all his beer!

Kill the tyrant!

Christ almighty! The royals!

Run for your lives!

Bandierra...

What's the matter, father Ubu?

He's had too much, Your Majesty.

Too much beer...

Anything wrong, my dear Ubu?

l've snapped my bowel and broken my liver

and l'll surely die in this gutter. What'll happen to my wife?

Bardior, you'll take care of his wife.

Bardior! On my command...march!

Aye, aye, 'our 'jesty!

Bardior!

You'll take Ubu back to his family.

Procession! On my command...march!

Procession! On my command...march!

Procession! On my command...march!

You won't object?

Not at all.

Ooooh, how greedy!

Shrite! Our national shrite.

lt flows to the rivers. Then to the sea.

Fish feed on our shrite and the fish are eaten by other nations.

lsn't this a betrayal of the nation's interest?

lf we tolerate this, isn't it a betrayal of the reason of the state?

Let's take our shrite in our hands!

We're loosing our shrite!

Liberty! Equality! Fraternity!

Comrade Bardior! l'm willing to make you Prince of Fithuania!

What power have you, master Ubu?

ln a couple of days l'll be ruling Foland.

Naaah, the old king is still alive.

Then kill the king and take my place on his throne.

- Kill the king? - The king as well.

We can let the chamber maids go.

And we could perform their ablutions.

Or maybe abolition?

Whichever, we can do both, we are kings.

l, captain of the king's dragoons, take part in killing the king!

Never!

Kill the king! Never! Regicide is forbidden.

But we have a despot, not a king! A heretic!

And when l'm king, l will make you Prince of Fithuania!

Death to the tyrants.

Me, Prince of Fithuania...

Death to the tyrant!

My, you look ugly today, Woman. Is it in honour of our guests?

Bardior, Prince of Fithuania.

Folish soup.

Folish soup?

Folish, didn't you hear?

Ours, national.

To the Prince of Fithuania.

Blast it, is this bad!

lt's not very good, indeed.

Prince of Fithuania.

Kill the tyrant? l'm up for it! l've always wanted to be a democrat.

To freedom and the people.

- Ubu, the king wants to see you. - Why?

The king requests your company at the military parade

and sends this carp bred on royal exprim... excrim...

Royal shrite!

That's right.

Gimme the carp and beat it!

He's gone, berk.

Berk... At last we are all alone.

My friends, it's high time we devised the plan of our conspiracy!

l think... that...

Let everyone speak their minds.

l think we should cut him in two with a rapier.

'Tis noble and brave!

Right, Bardior, your task is to do it.

And... how about we all run at him

screaming and making noises?

This way we'd all take his crown.

His shoes, we must take his shoes!

Or l will cry...

...What should l cry?

- Shrite! - That's it, shrite.

And l'll explode the excrimental bomb and then you will attack him.

Yes, and when the old prick kicks the bucket...

Me and my men will get rid of the rest of his family.

And the great eagle of democracy shall descend from the skies

carying the Folish crown in his claws to place it on the head...

Whose?

Mine, Pussycat.

Soldiers! Remember you are the army and the army

makes the best soldiers.

To tread on the path of honour and glory

place the weight of your body on your right calf

and start from your left foot. Soldiers! You are the army!

Attention !

Attention !

Gosh you smell, Ubu. Don't you ever wash?

Rarely.

- Never. - Occasionally.

Soldiers! If you're not with us then you're not with us

and you'll be slapped with the exprimental bomb of justice.

Law, regime, democracy have been placed in this here chamber pot

which will explode once the fuse of the revolution is lit.

Does anyone have matches?

Let the bell of freedom ring! Shrite! Equality! Nepotism!

This is not what l meant! Bardior! Help me!

Liberty! Equality! Nepotism!

Bardior help!

Kill! Kill to death!

l've got it! l've got the cr...

l've got the crown! You take care of the rest!

Which way to the treasury?

l've got the royal shoes! Real royal shoes!

When an old king leaves No one is at ease

Empty is the throne And the crown'll soon be gone.

All around lose their senses Thinking of the newcomer's offences

For such is the royal lot That they have reason for naught.

- Where's the treasury you scoundrel? - Down and to your left, my Lord.

- And where's down? - Down is down.

Down is down? Ridiculous. Down is down. Down is down.

This way and to the left.

- Are the treasures of Foland here? - Here. Treasures and royal tombs.

The old king's kicked the bucket. Time to prepare his tomb.

The royal bucket's been kicked! Goodness gracious...

Money, money, money!

Where's the dough? Where's the gold of Foland? Where?

The tax collectors took it all to pay for the beer...

- They came... took all... - All?

Wanted the tombs too, but they left them.

The country is poor but we won't give away

our national tombs as long as we live, won't we?

You, out.. !

Long live king Ubu!

What?

Long live king Ubu!

We welcome you, my Lord.

Stocktaking. Come back later. The treasury's closed.

Your Highest Highness... But...

But shrite! Shrite! Out! Everybody out!

How much is there?

Nothing. l'm poor and the country's ruined.

...Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer,

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune

Or, to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them?

Don't mess around with me, Ubu. Where's the dough?

To die, to sleep... Dough? There's no dough.

You lying bastard! Nothing left?

Bones, coffins, banners...

...oh, shrite.

No dough, but shrite's still with us. United,

we shall make shrite into gold and impose taxes.

Taxes.

Oh, taxes... concessions... bribes...

All these designed for kings.

- My Lord? - What?

- The people have gathered in the pasture grounds. - So what?

They await a token to remember your accession to the throne.

- Scatter the rabble. - No one available. My men are busy

- removing the bodies. - The people're getting restless.

Anything for the people! Bandiera rossa! What am l saying?!

My Lord, if you don't distribute meat, beer and gold,

they'll overthrow you within a couple of hours.

Beer, no. Gold, no.

Meat, yes. Bardior, get some dogs from the streets.

- Should do for these botchers. - A couple of roasted dogs won't do!

Roasted dogs are very good but they won't force the people to pay the taxes!

- Really? - No taxes, no donations...

...complete financial disaster.

- l'll throw in some entertainment. - It's not enough.

We have to decree a new democracy as the people's great achievement.

That's right. l'll deliver a speech. Make all the arrangements.

My poor people! You have been under the yoke, in captivity...

l will un-yoke you, diarr-free-ye. My people will be diarr-heal-ed.

l, your Ubu, come from among you, through you and for you!

Hear the citizen king! Long live the king!

Now, my people, under the new management we will build

our greatness on our national shrite.

Proudly, we shall turn everything around into shrite.

And shrite we will turn into gas.

Gas into electricity and with what's left we will be brewing beer.

This way the wheels of state will be kept in motion. Our motto:

''Beer for free for everyone whose patriotic pooh contributes

- to the country's wealth!'' - You mean, what?

l'm asking you if -excusez le mot- you'll shrite?!

We'd shrite if we ate!

Right, no shrite without a bite!

The nation's mother!

The nation's mother, a real mother!

Hey you, why are they so sad?

How about we organize a race?

Silence! Now you will hear about culture... Why not?

The first to circle the courtyard ten times will have the honour

of climbing to the top of this monument and crushing

the skull of the old oppressor. And more, he'll get some dough!

That's how we'll be making culture, do you want culture?!

This game is called democracy.

Begin when l wave the hanm!

Off you go then!

Faster!

One down already...

Lift her higher... higher...

Flowers for the king.

The people love their master.

My Lord, the bill for the beer drunk when we started the revolution!

- The revolution is not yet complete. - Not now.

Boys!

- This one will make it... - Naaah... already short of breath

- Wait wait... - He is...

- Wait wait... - No, he's back in...

Another's trying.

Hey you there, have you circled the courtyard ten times?

Eleven, l've been running already - yesterday.

What's your name?

Michel Fioderovitch. Long live king Ubu!

He's the winner! People, your winner!

Long live king Ubu!

Grub! Grub!

Later. Now it's time to think of state affairs. How to mess up

so that l get the most of it.

We need to order the law in order for the government

to govern law and order.

As a liberal l ask you which way to reward Fioderovitch:

a purse with a coin or the symbol of our new state?

A promotion coupon for shrite!

Shrite! Shrite is everybody's right!

And that's what we call democracy.

Come with me, l'll make you a minister. Come...

lf you're fed up with the norm Get yourself onto a platform

Make sure there are mikes out there Spreading the news everywhere.

Scream out louder than ever before Feel your brain expand more and more.

Here l am, king in this country. For three days we've been king

in this country. And l feel l'm already suffering

- from indigestion or something... - Don't wory Ubu, it's so roy...ale.

My Lord, the crown. Altered according to your wishes and suggestions.

And what is it made of, Ubu ? One can be a king but a thrifty one.

Gold, sheepskin, with a buckle and dogskin string, Pussycat.

A good crown should keep one's ears warm.

lt's beautiful, but being kings is even more beautiful.

My Lord, the Cabinet is waiting.

See the rascals... They are nothing without me.

My Lord, here is your expose prepared in accordance

with your ideas... consulted ...

Boy, you smell! What does this smelly mug want now?

Expose... consulted with... your kin

Do you know who Hygiene is?

This... new ideas... new projects... to deliver before the Cabinet...

- ...Hygiene... l wash... l do... - Never.

Occasionally.

You never do, l can feel that. Gimme that expose!

With Hygiene you need intelligence, smelly mug.

The king will speak.

Silence there. l'm going to speak a speech... Er, irrelevant.

''Of state and governing. We will have a democratical government

ruled by a national majority. Majorities are many,

major and minor. We'll rule through a proper majority.

A proper majority is such that even when in minority,

it will always be the right one, that is bigger than the biggest

of all majorities. One that listens attentively to the king's breathing

and the pulse of the nation''. This is all mine.

Basically, it all means l'm in charge now. Democratically.

Spiritual and church matters.

Confessions will be compulsory and paid while absolutions

paid double the amount in cash, a discretion... Whose is this?!

What is this rubbish?! You! All the money is mine! Mine only!

For the treasury that is for me!

And what about economy?

We shall build the state's economy on taxes and shrite...

Boy, l'm bored stiff... Now, of sports and culture.

l like sports and culture, l do.

Spanish fly: yes! Contraception: no!

Spanish fly: yes!

Ubess, l will make you into a pudding!

What are you clapping at! You'll clap yourselves to death...

You, you and you, out! Out! Out! You'll be altar boys!

Now the nominations. Ubess, the financial unit.

Fioderovitch, sports and culture. Merdrenpot, economy.

Pissedoux, management. Now dear ministers,

don't be late or the history train will leave without you.

And now the arty part.

My Lord, as minister in charge of management, l have taken

the liberty to organise a humble reception in your honour.

l like culture. l do.

As a boy you dreamt of engine driving Of caps and uniforms, soul-reviving

But to wear a uniform, to be the boss Of learning you must bear the cross.

lnstead of tedious teaching Teachers' preaching

You reached for power Oh, lovely tower.

lt gave you the cap and the uniform Your engine, for such is the norm.

When your nose itches And your bum itches

The court runs up and scratches.

The lesson then is pretty easy:

lf you want to drive the engine of history

Stop poring over books,dissertations Better get to democracy formation.

Democracy makes an easier life A life without strife

Do you love democracy? l love democracy!

Tip-top is life in democracy.

You...

Dear comrade, Bardior... Bearing in mind your past deeds,

the king wanted to make you Prince of Fithuania...

But the people... are not happy with you...

and the will of the people is sacred, isn't it...?

This is why we abolished tyranny, isn't it... wait then,

our king is thinking of you. And meanwhile,

perhaps you could... collect the taxes, Bardior.

We'll keep an eye on you. A close one.

Together with the people of Fithuania.. .

The people needed democracy to enjoy themselves freely.

And why wasn't it proclaimed earlier?

There was no Bastille, no prisons, no torture chambers.

And so, no democracy. There is no freedom without oppression.

l'll build the biggest prison in Europe.

Prisons, the manure of democracy Prosit! To democracy!

To liberty, equality, to the Bastille!

Long live prisons! Long live all classes!

Waiter! More!

- What? - That's all we have, Your Majesty.

Nothing left.

Nothing left? l'm the king. l want to drink. l want beer.

But there isn't any.

Then bring me democracy.

There is nothing on credit. No money, no beer.

Democracy is running away...

Does it mean there is only a runaway democracy?

No friendship! No aid...?

We provide dog pate in mint...

We provide dog pate in mint sauce for your kindergartens.

We sell French coupons for calves' bottoms at special rates to you.

And my government delivered unfailing German policemen sticks.

Friends, l don't know about you, but l'm moved. Europe for Europe.

lmprisonment and brewery are the shortest way to democracy.

Dear king, anything for democracy. We are paying for beer

in a hundred countries. Now, being a democrat, it's your turn

to establish taxes... yourself, from yours, to yourself.

Collect the state's due so that there is enough for beer.

Taxes are the basis of democracy.

Oh, Foland, Foland!

Now, we'll make such a democracy and such taxes that...

Myself, from my people, for myself. Bardior!

Here, my Lord.

Bardior, old chum, can you still give armed support to your king

and his lonely struggle for a better future?

l can, my Lord

Then get me your brave guards and all the nobility for tomorrow.

All of them.

America my promised land With cools cars driving all around

Where by the pool Poor Man relaxes And no one ever pays their taxes.

Thou art mighty thou art great A lucky star for every state.

We will follow in your tracks And you might send us a few bucks.

''The people say: NO to the nobility - enemies of democracy.''

Go on! U-bu! Go on! U-bu!

NO to the relics of the past!

Therefore, l announce that to make the county richer,

following the indignant, angered voice of my people, l have decided

to wipe out the nobility and confiscate their possessions.

Which will make things easier as l'll be paying taxes to myself.

Fewer leeches, more beer for me and all will be happy.

Bring all the former nobility.

Go on! U-bu! Go on! U-bu!

ls that all?

All the rest have run away to seek the protection of the tsar...

Traitors to the national cause!

Those sentenced to death... will be thrown into this cesspool

where they will be brainwashed thanks to the revolution of the sun

around the earth and of an old washing machine with a helix

and to the presence of a couple of millstones, thrown in later.

The bodies of the nobility will then ferment and turn into shrite-y gas

which will serve the national cause.

Oh, what terrible beauty.

And we owe this entire patriotic mechanism to the voluntary

contribution of Merdrenpot, our minister!

Hurray for the minister!

For the law and the kingdom!

Who are you, you ninny?

Answer, dummy!

Count of Fitebsk

What is your income?

Three million rixdales.

To the pit with him.

People! Soldiers!

And who are you, you ugly mug?

Great Prince of Foznan.

lncome?

l'm ruined.

Oh, what a nasty word. To the pit with him.

Wait a minute!

You can be a king...

...but a thrifty one. Broken.

- Is this all you have? - All.

To the pit then.

- Long live king Ubu! - Long live! To the pit!

l beseech you, my Lord, restrain yourself.

The Human Rights' Charter....

Be gone you!

Third nobleman.

Name, second name, possessions?

lndeed, how articulate, to the pit with him.

Why are you wincing, Pussycat?

You're much too cruel, Ubu.

Because l'm getting rich. Janitor, read out my list of my goods.

The Earldom of Fandomierz... The Duchy of Fodole,

The Great Duchy of Foznan, the Duchy of Furland,

the Earldom of Fandomierz, the Earldom of Fitebsk,

the Palatinate of Folock, the Margrave of Forun....

...that's it.

Good job, citizen.

Citizen King. l've something...

...but l'm not sure... May l?

Fire away, fire away. His Majesty the king loves his people.

These bodies in the cesspool, it's a pity to turn them into gas.

You see, l breed hens. They could make chicken feed...

Hens will eat anything. Noble corpses, noble eggs.

- So l hoped... - Hens?

Brood hens.

The Great Fagan Duchy, the Duchy of Furland,

the Earldom of Farmir, the Earldom of Fishk,

the Palatinate of Faulty, the Margrave of Fifrun...

- Go on. - That's all.

What do you mean all?

As far as the property

of the dead members of the nobility is concerned l that's it.

No noblemen left? No estates?

Some of them pretend they are part-time farmers. The rest

have suddenly had visions and have taken the cowl.

- And their possessions? - They serve His glory.

- What? - They serve... the glory...

Hand them over! The nobility and the estates.

Never!

The nobility : yes. The estates : never.

The estates were duly taken... They're mine! It's not fair!

Blasted bugger! How is fair better than unfair?

l'm giving them back...

Good.

Now l shall reform the judicial system.

Paragraph 1 : er, shrite.

Paragraph 2, section 1 : later.

Paragraph 3, section 1 , point 1a...

Firstly, judges will not be paid.

And what are we supposed to live on? We are poor!

What do you mean? On bribes.

This is unthinkable! Scandalous! We refuse to work in such conditions.

To the pit with them.

What are you doing, my Lord?!

Who'll administer justice now?

Who? Me. You'll see how easy it'll be.

Now, gentlemen, Let us turn to financial matters.

There is nothing to change here.

l want to change everything.

- Firstly, l want to keep half the taxes. - Half!

All right, then. 2/4 will do.

Secondly,

let's establish a tax on property, marriages and deaths.

Fifteen rixdales each.

- But it's stupid, Ubu! It's absurd! - It doesn't hold together!

Are you taking the piss out of me?! To the pit.

Enough for today.

Kill the judges, kill the gentry And your kin. It's elementary.

Once you're rid of them for good Crush their bones into dog food.

Watch the puppy getting fat Then stifle it with your hat.

Gather wood for a good fire To fulfil your belly's desire.

l'm tired with this ruling business.

But Ubu, what sort of king are you? You'll kill everyone.

Ah, shrite.

No justice, no money.

How much do we have?

Nothing.

And the estates? And the financial reform?

Time to start collecting taxes.

My Lord, the people are growing restless.

What do they want?

They've thrown an egg at him!

They're spitting. Hungry or what? Something about bread...

They want you to go on with the reforms, my Lord.

All right. Give them the remaining judges.

J�zio...

Right, the people have the right to culture, sports and leisure.

The people have the right to throw eggs.

At previously indicated aims.

We've run out of judges.

A conspiracy...

Who?

And who's responsible for collecting taxes?

Bardior?

And who let the nobility hide in the monasteries?

Bardior!

Where is Bardior?

Precisely. Where is Bardior?

Find Bardior.

Come on J�zio.

People, your hardworking king has considered your misery

and wanting to make your lives better and brighter has caught

the one to blame for your misery.

We announce that keeping hens is now strictly forbidden

since irresponsible units have been throwing eggs in unsuitable places.

Centrally imported rotten eggs for responsible throwing

will be divided between the responsible members of our community.

Here's the one who stole our beer. Here's the public enemy!

The traitor's there! Everyone in our country can throw an egg

at this rebel. And if there are not enough eggs for everyone,

your representative will throw one for you.

Let's go then! Let's throw!

Enough preaching! He tried to paw me!

He tr�ed to paw!

lt's aga�nst the law!

He tr�ed to paw!

What the hell for?

for l'm the people's k�ng.

To paw a k�ng's a s�lly th�ng!

Let the people paw your bottom now!

And what �f...

They don't l�ke your rule?

And what �f...

They choose to be free?

Somet�mes people need a lesson:

Take from the poor, g�ve to the r�ch!

Th�s �s the way of democracy.

Let them �n...

To break all bonds!

Let them �n...

To hatch a plot!

And so they...

forget the�r goal.

And so they...

forget the�r role.

Protect the strong, the weak are wrong.

Taste hatred �nstead of bread

Paw no more...

l'm the one to paw!

Sleep well my prince, and cover both your ears, for the rats

are having a good time dancing the sarabande.

Gentlemen, try and listen attentively.

We'll go through the chapter on finance.

Next, we'll speak of a dear little system

l've invented in order to... to... raise crop yields

and tithes, to bring fair weather

and chase away the rain.

lt's beautiful.

Go home, shrite-y Lady and shut your mouth.

l won't stand your monkeying.

And the new taxes, Mr Minister, Sir, how are they?

The estates of the nobility only bring losses. The marriage tax

has yielded a mere eleven groszes so far and still, the Chaplain

is chasing people around to force them into marriage.

And the poll tax?

Lady Finance, l have ears for talking and you a mouth

for listening. And in the meantime...

and now... today... and...

lt's not working. There's no beer.

Right, let everyone speak their minds.

So, l'll speak my mind first.

l think that... that... oh, shrite.

Shrite! You need class to say: shrite!

Of course. Shrite! Shrite'll save us all.

We need to build huge tanks.

Secure a place three times a week by the shrite-y tank for basic needs,

that is, children, pregnant women and soldiers l five times a week.

Once the tank is brimming we will place a cover on top of it

and then gas will start coming out.

From this, that is, from the gas

we can make beer, and this way...

lawfully and rightfully, we will all become rich.

Proceed immediately.

There is no money to build the tanks.

Work camps and obligatory volunteer work.

And liberty? And justice?

Only the enemies of democracy will be sent to work camps.

But there is no money to organise the camps and deportations.

Fear not, little ones...

l'll myself go from door to door, collecting taxes.

Door to door, by myself... door to door... myself....

..# self... door to door...

ln the name of the law and all the saints l open up!

Upon my shrite, open up! l come to collect taxes!

Gentlemen...

We beg you, Your Majesty... Have mercy...

- Which of you is the oldest? - Me. Stanislas.

l come to tell you, you financial swine-dlers,

to order and announce that you are to declare

and give away your finances

and to fulfil your duty towards our fatherland by paying taxes to me.

Merciful, but we've paid already.

That may be. But l've decided every tax will be paid twice

and three times when the government chooses so.

We beg you, Your Highness! Have mercy...

We are but poor citizens!

And we are members of the folk club! Tra la la...

l don't care, you pay!

We have no more finances!

l thought so. The path to greatness Ieads through thorny episodes.

Let's do our duty!

Door to door... myself... 'self...

Disconnecting the head, twisting the limbs, pulling out the hair,

penetrating the ears with a wooden stick...

Our common goal To save the soul

To feel so good Locate the food.

The rest is simple enough Strike first 'cos life is rough.

And so the cycle must repeat l eat : l am, l am : l eat.

l say, gentlemen, that our finances are fine.

A considerable number of dogs in wooden stockings

fall out in the streets every morning. Our informants

are working miracles these days. Houses on fire everywhere

and people breaking under the weight of our finances.

Gut!

This evening's top star!

Agility games for the benefit of combatants!

Egg-throwing competition!

Follow me! Follow me! Everyone join in! Now!

Bardior's escaped!

Citizen, king, the cage is empty. Bardior's escaped.

A letter.

A letter!

Read. l must be losing my mind or else l can't read.

lt must be from Bardior.

Read, you daft cow!

Bardior...

Says he's run away to seek the protection of the Russian tsar.

- The tsar's welcomed him warmly and given him beer... - What an imbecile!

And now Bardior and the tsar will invade Foland to fight for ideals

and overthrow you and kill you...

Throw me and kill me?! But l'm completely innocent!

He got an egg!

Which one was it!?

My Lord, the people are getting restless...

The people? What the hell do they want now?

Shall we open fire at them?

Fire? At the people?

With people around? Some other time.

Whenever l hear these songs of freedom, l feel like crying.

Shhh, daft cow...

...l'm scared. So scared. l'm quite ready to become a bishop

or even a saint and have my name in the calendar...

l'm scared, so so scared...

Come on, be a man, Ubu!

Be a man, king!

External threat.

And internal.

ln this situation...

War!

God speed us! This is the honourable way!

The only way.

There's only one way, Ubu.

War!

Off we go to war, war my beloved friend! !

Off to war you go!

Taste blood and taste pa�n!

We've two cannons ready for you!

Send your nat�on to the slaughter!

W�th honour woe them!

But yourself, keep away

You've a cold on the way...

A m�ll�on costs!

And �f the war �s lost?

l'm just an ord�nary chap!

And wars are not for me

l'd really rather see,

ln a good bank, stored safely,

Loads of good money.

Let's have a war!

Let's have a war!

H�gh t�me for war!

Let's taste some blood!

Long l�ve the war!

Long l�ve the war!

When the people're starv�ng

H�gh t�me to f�ght!

lt's t�me for war!

Ubu king Went into the ring

But hearing drums Did not advance.

Fearing blows and punches He thought of home-made lunches

And of his cosy bed where Not a hair'd be harmed on his head.

lt's a shame our finances can't buy a vehicle befitting our rank.

Never mind the vehicle. Petty-mindedness. Are you proud

to be going to war as Europe's representative?

So long old chap. Just kill the tsar all right.

Show them folnische wirtschaft!

Of course. Twisting nose and teeth, pulling out the tongue

and penetrating the ears with a sharp stick.

To remember us warmly after the hardships of the battle.

Chewing gum from America!

Made for the Eastern market. Sugar with specially added sugar.

My friends, the fate of the Western world rests upon my shoulders.

King Ubu, l have nothing war-like, but you can hang your enemies

on a good skipping rope.

l'm off to war to kill everybody. l'll be your leader

and you'd better walk upright!

Woman, give me my armour!

By my shrite! The Russians are advancing.. !

lsn't he lovely in his helmet and armour, you'd think

he was a pumpkin in a cuirass!

Oh, dear, what a jolt! l shall fall down and turn into a corpse.

King Ubu, you've dropped your ear-cutting scissors.

My Lord! The revolution! The beer! The bills still unpaid...

Long live! Long live!

King Ubu!

Your orders! Even if stupid will be executed...

Oh, how lovely 'tis to see Uhlans falling on their knees

When raging wars Reach with killer-claws.

For a rascal on your side Fills your heart with pride

But one who is in opposition Tramps on your ambition.

Gentlemen! Soldiers of my shrite-y army!

Let us make preparations for the battle. Primo, secundo, tercio.

We shall remain on the hill and we will not make the mistake

of abandoning this choice position.

Like a live fortress we shall lock ourselves in the tent with...

...the ballerinas.

- It was good, eh? - Brilliant! Brilliant!

We will obey your commands, Your Majesty.

Are you proud to sacrifice your life for your country?

Aye, aye! Sir, king! Funny, there are no Russians!

Right. We're going to win. What's the time?

Eleven in the morning.

The Russians won't attack before noon.

Brave men, l simply adore them.

My Lord, the Russians are attacking!

My shrite-y lad, if l believed you, l'd order my army to withdraw.

The Russians are far away.

- But they are getting closer. - So what? l didn't ask them to.

The Russians! The Russians!

l'm a lonely king upon a hill, everybody's target.

Third bullet!

Hey you, Mr Russian... Be careful, you nearly hurt me.

Fourth bullet!

Dear Russian dragoon, please, don't fire your rifle here!

There are people here!

Fifth bullet!

Help me, Fioderovitch!

We're advancing! Victory!

Forward, comrades! Cut them to pieces! Long live!

And who's that beast? Gentlemen, what a belly!

The tsar! Run for your lives! Help! The tsar!

The tsar... Help! Call the priest!

Ubit sobaku. Vpieriod.

Careful, Mr Bardior. l've indigestion.

Fat barrel.

l'm prepared to meet death. But first, l'll curse you.

Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie.

You dirty swine! You tried to paw me?!

lt wasn't me...

Ubess told me to.

Her? Her idea?

How disgusting!

l need to be alone! l'll take my vows, become a priest!

The muscovites are winning! Run for your lives!

We're having paternoster. We'll all be eaten in turns.

Hurray! God save us! Hurray!

Hurray! Run for your lives! Hurray!

The blood was spilt justly.

How ungodly! What a gang, what a run, good God!

Soldiers, your blood wasn't spilt in vain! l'm alive!

Foles, forward or rather, backward!

Target is nothing, moving is everything!

This is an opportunity to stretch your legs!

Hey you, bumpkin! Button your uniform and stand to attention!

Oh, no, her again! You stupid cow, is there no way

to get rid of you?

Ubu, have you recovered from your fright and your flight?

Fright, yes. Not sure about the flight.

The boar!

Too many Muscovites.

The Foles have banished me.

The Russians have beaten me up.

All calamities have besieged us...

All calamities have besieged us...

Master, the bill... Old system, new system...

We welcome you, master!

Saviour!

Tyrant!

Long live friendship! International brothers in arms!

Long live!

Flowers, violets, roses...

We welcome you heartily We welcome the Tsar almighty.

Beloved and hated you are Let's hope you'll die soon, Oh Tsar!

But in the meantime We sing and rhyme.

And although we tremble Before you we assemble.

Gentlemen, the time has come to set things in order in Foland.

To the glory of democracy!

To the glory of the people!

And the name..!

And the name of God!

Let's divide Foland and let each of us rule over his bit.

They need a rod of iron!

Democratically!

Democratically! The rule of the people with a strong king!

ln the name of the Lord...

ln the name! A governor, a regent...

Foles out!

And me...?

Now, gentlemen, we can begin.

Long live! Long live! Long live!

Priviet amerikanskoy vlasti!

Long live! Long live!

Citizen Tsar, the bill for the beer!

Unmitigated ass!

Long live! Long live! long live!

Adin boh, adin tsar, adna rodina!

Certified softening of the brain.

Long live!

Flowers, violets, roses...

Dimwit? Blind?

Long live!

Gentlemen! To the newly elected...

- Democratically... - democratically elected Folish queen.

Long live!

l think l've snapped my bowel...

... and l've broken my liver.

Hypochondriac. Better tell me your adventures.

Too long... Killing... Bleeding...

Are you ill, Ubu?

Flaying... Crashing...

My hero's gone mad!

Removing the testicles, penetrating the ears with a wooden stick...

...and the great beheading come from our Judaeo-Christian tradition.

Friends! Long live Foland!

Friends! Long live Foland!

Foland? Will it ever end?

Oh, l wish my bed was here!

Your royal bed was taken by the Russians.

But we have the prototype of our national machinery!

A vehicle for our times! And who'll do the pushing?

As usual, the united effort of the nation!

Zdzisio, the product of our national reforms.

Gosh, he stinks! Does he ever wash?!

National Zdzisio, national gas, national vehicle, time for uhlans!

Off we go!

Wait! And me? Citizen! King!

God bless you, my friend! God bless you! Bandiera rossa!

lt is crucial to know who crowns a monarch and gives him the right

to exercise power, that is, thanks to whom one is crowned...

l shall place the crown on her head in the name

- of the French Revolution. - No! l will do the crowning!

According to the Folish tradition all power comes from Heaven!

From Heaven! From Heaven! Power is power

- once there is a stamp - Certified, confirmed....

Friends, the American nation and the economic support it provides

gives the exclusive right to me! This is not the first time

- our democracy's nominated kings. - Right! And... Could l become

Prince of Fithuania?

And where is the crown?

Where is the crown?

Alone.... By herself...

Alone, she crowns herself...

Ah, these obtuse Foles!

The coronation is invalid! The country is invalid!

We are invalid?!

Ah, Foles! Foles!

Now let us thank Providence.

Long live the new ruler! Hurray!

Long live!

Long live the nation's mother!

This is a war between the gluttons and the drunkards.

Today, the drunkards have devoured the gluttons.

l'm always hungry when l travel. They must be crowning someone...

l don't envy him his crown.

You're so right Ubu. What a joy to see douce France soon.

And yet, Foland is Foland. If it weren't for Foland

there'd be no Foles!

That's what l call erudition!

My queen, it's about the bill when Ubu started the revolution...

...forgot to pay for the beer...

ls this enough to pay the bill?

More than enough... enough... But a queen without a crown?

No more kingdoms...

No more kingdoms, we will have a republic.

No one will buy this in a republic.

The apparent loss in weight of a body immersed in beer is equal

to the weight of the beer displaced.

But the crown...

No worries, you'll all be ministers in the new republic.

Whoops, it's getting sham here.

What a lovely breeze.

My dear boy, are we in Paris yet?

Paris indeed, shall l serve you some coffee?

Yes. Two, with cream, semi-sweet.

No beer?

Semi-sweet, with cream. One moment please.

Shrite-y boy, is there a palace around here?

l look people �n the face Ly�ng to me's a d�sgrace!

lf you speak of prob�ty You are r�ght, �t's me, �t's me!

And therefore erect l stand W�th my bottom b�g, so grand.

ln th�s world l 'm not alone l am, you are - l�ke a clone

We walk 'round �n heavy boots We've got a military look.

When the boot k�cks Power comes qu�ck.

Once �t �s ach�eved Don't be scared, for we

Are your m�rror �mage. In real�ty 'you' means 'we'!

Ta, ta, tarata, ta, ta, ta...

Authoring DVD: CatMusic

Print out: Laser Film Text