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The times of miracles may long have passed

or never have been more than a useful lie.

However, strange things still happen in this world.

Sancho!

Idiot.

At first, there's nothing unusual about this story:

A man watches a painting.

Just what is it that fascinates him so?

Maybe the door opening onto a green garden?

I'd often told stories about people like Hong.

But soon, we'd have to share a story,

which I didn't like at all.

Eugene, it's Saint Francis.

Fucking communist!

Eugene!

Would you mind taking this, please?

Eugene, wait!

Lunch break?

Look,

Saint Francis of Assisi!

So what?

St Francis lived among the poor,

spoke to the birds,

and always gave away his clothes.

Because he was a communist.

What an idiot.

Look!

That cloud looks like a dog!

Was it a casual or a prophetic remark?

'Cause here's the first strangeness you'll have to deal with:

I'm a dog.

While they were sitting under the olive trees, however,

I was still human.

After an unproductive morning,

I'd gone to the Museum square

to watch girls entering and leaving Art Library on a late summer day.

Julian!

Oh, hi, Judit.

What are you doing here?

Just some research at Art Library.

Working on a new film?

Doing some writing.

Great!

'Cause I heard it's become hard for you to find financing.

Well, it's always been hard for more radical stuff in Germany.

To me, it seems you became less radical.

But you've read my review.

Perhaps you stepping into narrative wasn't too successful?

How did she know I might never make another film?

But I didn't have time to think,

as I ran into Camille,

who I hardly knew,

but on whose Facebook profile I'd already spent hours.

Sorry, I'm so late.

Hi!

Hi.

How do you do?

You're a friend of Clarence's, right?

Yeah, we met at his premiere.

This is my friend, Toby.

Sorry, what was your name again?

Julian.

- His, sweetheart. - Hi.

So, what are you doing here?

Just having a look around.

Cool.

Well, see you around.

Okay.

I had a stupid idea.

Wait.

You know, it's actually quite funny that I meet you here.

Because... Okay this is really a cliche situation,

but I was wondering if you ever considered acting?

Because since we met at that party, I was thinking that

you might be just perfect for the main role of the movie I'm just preparing.

Actually no, I don't think I'd like that.

No, definitely not.

Yes of course, was just a very spontaneous idea anyway.

He's so cute.

SELF-CRITICISM OF A BOURGEOIS DOG

Of course, there was no film.

I lived on welfare,

vaguely hoping for a grant to write a new screenplay.

I'd just had an appointment at the public employment agency.

I hadn't dared to refuse when my caseworker urged me

to accept a job as a seasonal farm worker.

But in Hong and Sancho's lives

an unpleasant turn had occurred, too.

During their shift, a Dürer and a fire-extinguisher had disappeared.

So they got fired on a Wednesday morning.

Sancho's grandfather, a Swiss nudist and esoterist,

had left him a pendulum,

which suggested they should team up to face destiny.

Being sick of wage labour,

they decided to try their luck as freelance deposit collectors.

The first building block of our happiness!

Finally we're our own masters!

But this American dream soon vanished

and their future looked uncertain.

Today, under the old lime tree in Straubnitz,

from 6am until midnight,

staff will be hired for the OKLAHOMA apple plantation.

Whoever thinks of his future belongs to us!

Whoever misses the chance now misses it forever!

Everyone is welcome!

Now they force me to work on a fucking plantation,

so humiliating!

This might be paradise on earth!

You'll be a proletarian now!

If you tell anyone, I'll kill you!

We were going to a party at my old professor's,

famous documentary film maker Rudolf Botow.

"...sure, that's my dog, that didn't happen to my daughter"

At which point I was like, "Yes it did!"

You snitched on yourself.

Well, she snitched on me.

Dear guests, dinner's ready,

but first some music,

so shut the fuck up!

You overambitious couch potatoes!

At your age, I had two kids

and as a convinced Maoist

I worked in a factory, for my re-education!

And I fucked, fucked, fucked.

Translate!

He used to work in a factory and fuck a lot when he was young.

What factory?

What factory?

You know what I learnt there?

Working class people are the biggest fascists!

So you'll get the post as his assistant?

Yes, I start next week.

Didn't you apply, too?

Yes, but I wouldn't have time, anyway.

Really? What are you doing?

I'll be away for some months.

They let you go on holiday even though you're on welfare?

Who says I'm on welfare?

Wasn't it you, bro?

Me? No way!

Where do you spend your holiday?

No, I'm doing research.

What research?

Well, my...

My next project is set on an apple plantation,

so I'll work on a farm

to investigate the working conditions there.

Really?

Rudolf, someone's following in your Maoist footsteps!

All the wheels stand still

when my fat ass declares its will!

Oh my god this Botow is an ass!

What's this I hear about you working on an apple plantation?

I'm going to do some research for that film project I told you about.

What do you wanna find out?

Yeah, I thought I should experience the working conditions

in late capitalism, myself, a bit more.

But then it's also some kind of adventure,

getting to know different kinds of people and stuff like that.

What's the story?

Well I'm still writing,

but I think it will be something like a fairytale

on the beauty of communist utopia.

My grandfather died in a Soviet Gulag.

And what would I be in that?

Well, of course I-I

I would try to involve you as much as possible in the script writing,

but as a starting point...

I thought...

Or maybe you know Rossellini's Europe 51 ?

No.

It's a great movie by Rossellini,

about Ingrid Bergman, who is transformed

by her encounter with the reality of the proletariat.

Sounds kind of kitschy.

Yeah, but my film will be totally different, much more humble and simple.

Like what?

Well, you know, I just think that, if you manage to capture

an individual existence with all it's beauty with the camera,

then the image gets something like a call for communism,

like an evidence that the world should be re-organized

in a way that respects the beauty and grace of life.

It was true! I wanted to be a communist,

but also to sleep with her.

Why'd she taken off her shoes?

I'd fallen in love.

When you told me about it the other day,

I thought it was just a hipster excuse to date me.

Do I look like that?

Yeah.

Let's go to my place.

I should go. You're on Facebook, right?

- Yeah, great. - Take care.

So, did you make out?

Was I a genius or an idiot?

Two days later she wrote,

she wanted to help me with my "research".

Do you smell the apples?

It'll be Paradise on earth!

Sign here, then.

Yes, man was born to work,

it's God-given.

His trees bear apples,

but you still have to pick them yourselves.

Lazy buggers would starve even in paradise!

Come on!

You're holding everyone up with your handicap.

What has four eyes, but can't see?

He's such a Fassbinder character!

What had I got into?

Hi comrades!

Glad to meet you!

These guys look dangerous!

Let's first have a nap.

I beg you pardon?

This is my bed, my friend.

I'm sorry, mister, I didn't know. I'm very sorry.

Sorry.

My friend!

That's very kind of you, mister.

- When did you start smoking? - Shut up!

What are you doing up there?

Hey.

The view is quite romantic.

I'll join you.

Yeah.

Sorry I'm late, I was talking to some women.

The people here are so interesting, I feel like in a novel or something.

What are your roommates like?

They're actually quite bizarre.

That's great, I guess there'll be lots of interesting material for our film here.

Yes, definitely.

So, how do we proceed with research?

Are we going to do interviews, or what's the plan?

You know, I think we shouldn't expose ourselves at all,

so that we don't get in some kind of superior Ethnograph position,

which would just falsify our research.

I think, the best method would just be to

immerse ourselves in the daily life here

and think about it when we're back home.

I guess that's logical somehow.

This might get complicated.

I really liked that friend of yours at Botow's party.

Grey?

Yes, he's cute.

Is he your boyfriend?

Why do you ask?

Oh nothing, I just thought that

if we work together maybe it would be nice

that we get to know each other a bit more.

So he is something like your boyfriend?

Natja!

That's the girl I told you about.

- You come with me? - Wait!

I'm going to join her.

See you tomorrow? Good night!

Okay.

Good night.

No-one was able to tell the Countess

how to marry off one's daughters nowadays.

Good evening! Join us for a drink?

No thanks, I'm tired.

The French way of letting parents decide the fate of their children

never made its way into Russia.

The English way of letting girls decide themselves

was not acceptable in Russian society either.

And the Russian way of match-making

seemed totally absurd.

Everyone made fun of it,

even the Countess.

So no-one really knew how girls would get married--

Hail to Princess Sherba-something, but I need to sleep!

Guys, we start early tomorrow,

and there'll be no Count Vronsky to court me.

- What? - Vronsky wants to sleep.

Yes, it's late.

Turn off the light.

Close the window.

The window stays open.

I need fresh air.

I said,

close the window.

Go back to the Caucasus, if you don't like our birds!

What do you say?

Comrades, please,

let's take a democratic vote.

So, who wants the window open, please raise your hand!

One, two, three

four,

five.

Sorry, Zurab, the window stays open.

Wait a minute.

Is this Soviet Union?

With only one choice in the election?

Now:

Who wants the window closed?

Idiots!

This is fake democracy.

I don't follow

the dictatorship of stupidity!

Any problems?

Good night.

I hope you don't make noise

when you sleep, my friend.

Good morning!

How was your night?

Well, I didn't sleep so good and now I've got a stiff neck.

- But did you make any friends? - Oh, yes, absolutely.

I guess they like me a lot.

I had a such great evening.

You really need to talk to Natia, she's like a fucking history book!

She told me about Georgian anarchists in the 1920s.

- You heard about that? - Sure.

And then we did a seance.

A what?

You sit around a table, with the glass in a middle,

and talk to a ghost.

Hope you don't believe in that kind of stuff?

Of course not, but it works anyway.

And what did the ghost say? Will you marry Grey?

I'm not kidding, it really did move by itself!

Dear employees, let me welcome you all

as new members of the Oklahoma family!

The apples glow like rubies in the sun,

their fragrant scent fills the air,

transforming work into joy!

Wait a moment, work and fun?

How does that fit?

We at Oklahoma say, it does!

That's why experts in Employee Satisfaction have...

developed a playfully motivating competition for you.

You'll work in teams of two,

competing in a merry picking Olympics.

Each week, the team that has harvested

the biggest amount of apples

will be awarded the golden apple crown.

And receive an extra bonus.

Now you'll ask yourself:

Is it really just a game?

And the world market?

Right, we still need to be competitive.

There's a minimum amount of apples

you have to reap in your daily shift.

But don't worry,

if once you have a weak day,

just do some extra rounds at night.

Any questions?

Will extra rounds be paid?

Does this sound logical to you?

No... That wouldn't be logical!

See?

I wish us all a great summer!

So, made up your teams yet?

I've got to sit down, it's too uncomfortable.

You have to work in a logical way.

Look how I do it.

Nonsense.

Let me put it in a parable.

On my grandfather's farm,

there was this farmhand called Sang-Kyung.

He worked the same way as you.

Once, at full moon, he was sent out

to gather some ferns.

So what?

It was in May,

and the forest smelled of fresh moss.

A senseless story.

The mountains looked crisp.

Well, it's so long ago...

I stopped listening!

Lazy, old and stupid!

How can you ever compete in the world market?

Hong!

Look how they're taking advantage!

Work fast!

Not like a lame, socialist donkey!

Sorry, I've got a stiff neck.

And I will break it, if we don't win.

Sorry, I'll switch it off.

I'm so sad, my friend.

Why?

I cannot trust you anymore.

I promise I will do my best!

It will not help.

I must take a deposit.

You can have it, if you work better.

But is this really necessary?

You say,

it is my fault

you're lazy?

You say,

it is my fault

you watch girls and don't work?

Julian, there you are!

I tried to call you, but a strange man answered your phone.

Oh really?

Who was it?

I don't know.

Where's your phone?

Seems to be gone.

Maybe someone took it?

Who would take it?

No, I don't think so.

I'll try calling it again.

No really, I think I just lost it somewhere, don't worry.

Look! Zurab.

What a bastard!

Go kick his ass!

No, he seems pretty dangerous.

I'll talk to him.

Is that your phone?

I don't think that's your phone.

I understand some German,

but I...

speak very little.

After that humiliating afternoon, I had to put in an effort

not to make a fool of myself again.

I had brought some wine

which once helped getting a scenography intern to kiss me.

But I found Camille in unpleasant company.

My English is also very bad.

We could speak in tandem.

Did you bring the wine?

Oh shit, I forgot!

Never mind.

When did you come to Germany?

I came with my parents

during Korean War

to East Germany.

So you lived under communism?

Well, I'm not too sure.

Would the evening bring a romantic twist?

I could certainly use a bonus.

I have many wishes.

Don't they say:

A wish generates ideas?

One should break Zurab's leg.

That would be criminal.

Or an accident.

You could push him on the stairs.

Impossible!

As you wish.

Every man is the architect of his happiness.

Wake up, lazybones!

The week dragged on endlessly and I felt sorry for myself.

I wasn't made for physical work, I made no progress with Camille,

whose strange enthusiasm seemed to make her indifferent

to the strains of work.

In my dreams of exhaustion

she began to resemble the heroine of a Soviet silent film.

I believe in the American dream.

Most people are too weak for capitalism,

but I am strong.

I will win all the prize money.

Saturday, Zurab and I were crowned harvesting kings by Mrs Gottfried.

For the hard-working, life's a silver conveyor belt!

Sure.

It's all your fault!

Next week, I'll work with Zurab.

You're blocking my success, useless fool!

Much to Zurab's disappointment,

the bonus was an Amazon voucher worth 20 Euro,

but Sancho still envied him.

I was waiting for Sunday

to start a romantic attack.

You cannot get rich with a job.

You're always the slave of other people.

But soon, I will be master,

and other people will be my slaves.

I will do my own business.

Don't you think a system based on solidarity might be a better option?

My romantic love!

I will tell you the basic rule of life:

everyone cheats everyone.

If... I could sell

my friend for one million dollars,

I would do it!

I love life, hate death.

One million!

That's quite some money!

I fear Botow was right: they're all wannabe-bourgeois fascists.

Don't be cynical, I find Zurab quite touching.

Too bad!

What?

We can't go, it must be private property.

I will protect you, my friend.

Perhaps the girls will get undressed.

- We can't go, it's private property. - Come on!

It's private property!

You're far too law-abiding for a communist filmmaker.

One could think it's Paradise on Earth.

I wish every day could be as beautiful!

I'm going for a walk around the lake.

Okay.

What are you reading?

Donald Duck.

What's the story?

Scrooge makes a good deal.

I prefer Donald.

He always ends up the fool.

That's the difference between you and me.

At night, we read Anna Karenina.

That's nice.

First, they go to Italy,

and nobody has to work.

Yeah, work sucks.

Are you poor, too?

Not really.

I guess I have parents.

Why are you here, then?

The question is: Why are you here, if you're not poor?

It's complicated...

Camille, I found a boat! Let's go for a trip!

Cool.

You can have her.

But don't mess it up!

Can't we forget about your fascist friend for a while?

You're being unfair.

Did you know he went to jail when he was 18,

for dismantling the fence of a local gangster in search of firewood?

Come on, he's definitely just making up stories in order to flirt with you.

You're quite distrustful for a communist filmmaker.

I like him as a person,

but it's the egoism of guys like him that ruin the working class.

Hey, let's switch, ok?

I mentally commanded her to kiss me.

This is the police.

Leave the private property immediately!

I repeat:

This is private property!

Please leave at once!

Dear employees,

the time has come

to prove we're one team,

to prove that, together,

we're able to defy the storm

that has brewed across the Atlantic.

Markets were flooded overnight with American apples,

prices are collapsing,

we have our backs against the wall.

We now have to concentrate on what has always been

the core values of the Oklahoma family:

Our willpower and our solidarity in hard times.

"Forward, without forgetting

"What our strength will always be:

"Our solidarity!"

What was that speech?

The reaping requirement will be 100 Kilo more!

Who told you that?

Was just sent by SMS.

Now we're screwed.

This world market starts to be a nuisance.

I don't care. Next week I'll work with Zurab.

That's ridiculous!

We should do something.

Yeah, we won't accept that.

But trouble was the last thing I needed.

What would my caseworker say?

I've never been a socialist,

but one thing we did learn in the East:

It's us who create surplus value

but profit rattles in Mrs Gottfried's pocket.

Please leave Marx on the bookshelf.

The dust makes me--

Exchange value is a tricky thing.

Remember my grandpa.

A hungry pirate once offered him a Stradivari,

in exchange for a goat.

My grandfather took the violin,

but smashed it on a waiter's skull

in solidarity with the October Revolution.

Or the other way round.

Now, shouldn't he have kept the goat?

What about a strike?

Yes, why don't we go on strike?

A reasonable strike is mostly reasonable.

Rotting apples will make Gottfried surrender.

And we'll work less again!

This revolutionary arousal made Camille blush slightly.

Was this how she'd look if we slept together?

I had to play a double game.

Why so modest?

If we build up enough pressure

we might even get an increase of salary and a reduction of working hours.

But you must be ready to fight.

Natia, let's get the other girls. We need everyone together now!

Ok, now cut that shit!

The boss will just replace you with some other Romanians,

or just shut operations here entirely.

I say:

Keep quiet and keep your job!

Yes, Bruno convinced me.

A strike would be way too dangerous.

Mrs Gottfried doesn't scare me.

But she's just a small cog in the wheel.

She wouldn't even be admitted to the hallway of the executive board!

Any trouble, and we're all screwed.

Gottfried included.

Just like... this!

By invisible hand.

Even worse, we'd never get another job.

Fate says: Rather not.

I tried to make them understand

they were part of a bigger struggle

but they just can't think beyond their small opportunistic individualism.

And it was all just about some lousy social democrat strategy like a strike.

Come on, guys!

We should try to agitate them in some way.

I've thought about that a lot, but...

this would only reproduce dominant class relations

and wouldn't lead to real emancipation.

So I think we should just wait

until the contradictions of late capitalism escalate

until the end,

so that a real revolutionary situation can appear.

I don't know, that's depressing.

But this is why we make art:

so that possibility can survive as form.

What's going on?

We've caught a thieving immigrant!

Zurab!

Are you St Francis of Assisi?

But one of his friends?

And what's your name?

I think he can't speak.

Where are you going?

You can't ask that to a mute!

Right.

You have somewhere to go?

Guess he got lost.

Want to work with us?

I tried to avoid this figment.

Camille, however, was enchanted,

whereas Hong and Sancho were driven to desperation,

as he didn't understand wage labour at all.

You can't eat the apples.

They belong to Mrs Gottfried.

You must put them in these boxes, get it?

So Mrs Gottfried can sell them.

Explain the world market to him.

See them workers?

If there are too few apples in their boxes,

Mrs Gottfried has to fire them,

and they all die of starvation.

He's got it now.

Quite annoying, those saints.

No! You must put them into our boxes!

It's a competition!

You'll weaken our motivation!

You must forget about your sainthood now!

Now he's got it.

I have my doubts.

Can I have it?

Nice work.

Ah, Mr Monk!

Your first weekly wage.

Congratulations!

Come on, take it!

But this is what you worked for.

What a psychopath!

This goes against German law.

I feel threatened at my workplace.

Take it, or you can't buy any commodities.

Take it.

Give it to me, if you don't want it!

God bless you, idiot!

Can I have half of it?

You keep that!

You have to think of us, too.

"While the pals of my youth

"howl at my miseries."

What have you got there?

All for yourself?

A present for our friends?

They'll be delighted!

Leave these heavy bags with us, we'll hand them over.

You may leave now.

Go, go.

At night, Zurab surprised us with cigarettes and lemons.

Friends!

The moon shines down on our luck!

Bless our benefactor, Zurab!

Okay.

We must go to sleep now.

- What was this light? - You never saw this.

Who did he meet secretly at night? Camille?

Or might even the monk be her lover?

She wants his penis

to bless her vagina.

You should be really careful with that guy,

he seems pretty borderline.

You're quite an asshole for a communist filmmaker.

I had to risk a dramatic step.

Camille.

Can I talk with you for a minute?

I wanted to apologise for what I said yesterday.

I'm a total idiot, but the truth is:

I really like you and I didn't know what to do about it,

so I got aggressive and jealous against everybody.

I don't really know what you're trying to say.

Ok, there's two things I got to confess:

First, this is not a research. I live on welfare

and was forced to work here by the state.

Second, I think I love you.

Wait, so there's no film?

- No. - What the fuck?!

Ok, wait a minute...

Watch out! Police!

Don't tell anybody what you saw last night!

Dear employees, my trust in you is seriously undermined.

Only by chance a serious crime was uncovered last night.

Some malicious Judas has for days been secretly selling our apples

to supposedly Polish black marketeers.

A mindless crime by an unscrupulous egoist.

Was fate about to intervene in my favour?

If he doesn't turn himself in

I have no choice but to dismiss you all.

Of course, the Turk!

Did you have any accomplices?

He's the illegal worker,

if they ask for his papers we're in double trouble.

Norman, I won't press charges,

if he swears never to show up here again.

But criminal immigrationists like him are a threat to society!

Norman, enough.

You must be tired after all this commotion!

And there's fresh apple cake and coffee in the hall!

Alright.

Must admit,

all that investigating did exhaust me!

And now, get off!

Judas!

Filthy dog!

May the shame of treason haunt you forever!

This is criminal trespassing!

This is criminal trespassing!

She's dead!

Isn't anyone calling the police?

That's usually done.

For anyone with no name,

the police usually means trouble.

But your name is Anton

and that's the order of things.

We live under the rule of law.

I have a bad feeling.

What if they say we killed her?

They'll suspect Mr Motzen.

Me?

Good Heavens!

I think we will all go to jail.

Oh my god!

I sure wouldn't like that!

And if we don't tell anyone?

They'll find out!

No apple delivery tomorrow, and we're done!

We're dealing with the German Police.

We could take over the plantation

and make a communist collective.

They're turning completely insane now.

Communism?

Communism?

I'll smash your stupid face!

No, it's a brilliant idea.

We did it like Trotsky in Petersburg, through the back door.

I'm getting all dizzy.

Revolution is already over,

now we can build communism!

Communism is nice, but what does he mean by it?

I will be leader of the communist party

and choose the best men for the secret police.

Then we establish the dictatorship of proletariat.

Everybody will make the great sacrifices

to construct the golden future!

Smells of state socialism!

Right, Chink!

Communism alright,

but first comes socialism, and it's worth shit!

A famous writer once dreamt he was lying behind a policeman

and a bush walked by, or the other way round.

Anyway, he was arrested at breakfast.

Was dreadful!

My parents were cultivating 47 sorts of beets,

then the Party came and said: 1. Collectivization

2. GDR must cultivate the first hardy avocado

for socialist manned spaceflight.

So everything's turned over to avocados, but nothing grows.

Gunter from the kolkhoz watches West-TV instead of working,

and why should he?

So Dad calls the Secret Police, hoping for some reward.

Meets up with contact “Eugen Onegin” at a restaurant.

Gunter gets 10 years, Dad nothing but a socialist handshake.

I wanted to study concert harp,

but was sent to the People's Academy of toilet engineering.

My friends, revolution needs discipline and sacrifice!

There must be only one supreme intelligence

who organized it.

Or everybody just follows his stomach.

Marina says, Zurab shall sit and shut up.

Nobody wants his Bolshevism.

Either our communism will be hedonistic,

anarchistic and democratistic,

or she's out.

She's had enough of sacrifices.

The problem is not communism, but the communists.

'Cause they want to give orders all the time.

Perhaps we can make communism without communists?

We'd still have to pick stupid apples.

Like Americans saying they'd love Paris without the French.

Bullshit! Your kolkhoz means: Nobody works,

but you go on your nerves collectively.

But we could reduce the daily work to the

lowest number of hours necessary to survive,

and organize it in such a way that we can each follow our own rhythm.

Great!

Some instant Yankee idealism!

He should shut up!

She's a carpenter and will teach us to build houses.

Hurray for roof beams!

She also knows how to cultivate

potatoes, onions and aubergines. It's easy.

I can sharpen scissors!

Dear friends, life belongs to us!

I'll say something, too.

Friends!

So?

I feel like a blank sheet of paper.

So what do we do? I've had enough of assemblies!

Dear friends, let's not lose our heads while in shock!

You can't just expropriate some international Investment Fund

and fantasize yourself into some fabulous middle ages.

Besides, no-one amongst us has the skills

to run an enterprise like this!

Let's face it: none of us is capable of anything!

Some idiots against the World Spirit!

Let's try to get out of this mess!

It's not too late. Let's call the law for help!

Why don't we try to sell tomorrow's harvest ourselves.

And then think how to move on.

Perhaps together we can learn to organize life.

Long live the revolution!

Long live the revolution!

What's going on here?

Why is no-one at work?

You monstrosity!

Get the fuck off!

Go back to where you fucking came from!

What's up, morons?

Has the sky fallen on your heads?

Off to work!

Fuck!

Back home, I got the unexpected news

that I'd get funding to write a script,

which put a momentary end to my financial troubles.

But the events on the plantation had left me confused.

I hoped I could at least make a film out of it.

It seems the end of the story.

This world is ill-conceived!

Hey, guys.

Are you going to Berlin, too?

I'm afraid, yes.

No, we can't.

Why?

We're waiting for the monk.

So we're waiting for nothing.

We might as well leave.

Hey, Monk!

We're going back to Berlin.

Come join us!

Is he dead?

What's up with him?

He's praying.

Why is he praying?

For the story to go on.

What will you do in Berlin?

I have no clue.

That's enough.

Nothing will happen anyway!

What's up with him?

He wants to tell us something, but he doesn't know how.

Maybe he can write it down?

The birds say: Your prayers have been answered.

Get up and go on a pilgrimage to Italy.

As you arrive, the revolution will have occurred

and communism without communists

will make the green of earth glisten once again.

Italy?

He seems to have prayed too much last night.

And if it's a lie?

But he's a saint!

And the birds?

Yes, birds talk all kinds of stuff.

Sorry, but are we seriously discussing this?

I'll ask the pendulum.

It's the truth. Let's go.

Wait!

How could this be possible?

Seems to be a miracle!

She doesn't believe in the revolution.

A miracle of beans! One turning into three!

Long live the revolution!

If you keep on lagging behind, we'll never get to communism.

In communism without communists, everyone's allowed their own speed

or it's not worth a hill of beans!

What's that?

"The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence.

"At last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of it's mouth

"and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice,

" 'Who are you?' said the Caterpillar.

"This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation.

"Alice replied rather shyly,

" 'I hardly know, sir, just at present.

" 'At least I know, who I was when I got up this morning,

" 'but I think I must have changed several times since then.'

" 'What do you mean by that?'

"said the Caterpillar sternly.

" 'Explain yourself!'

" 'I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir,' said Alice,

" 'because I'm not myself, you see?'

" 'I don't see,' said the Caterpillar.

" 'I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly,' Alice replied very politely,

" 'for I can't understand it myself to begin with

" 'and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.' "

May I ask a question?

Please do so.

In communism without communists,

who always does the stupid tasks?

Science!

But can science solve all problems?

Just think:

Who'll clean the public toilets?

We might end up fooled just the same.

Look,

Italy has 60 million inhabitants,

but only 6000 public toilets.

So there's one toilet per 10,000 residents.

Clean those once a day,

and each person needs to clean

a public toilet only once every 30 years.

Makes sense.

Not taking robotic work into account.

We've done it!

Paradise on earth!

European Union Migration Patrol!

Your papers, please!

It was just a dream.

How could I have been so stupid?

Why is she following us?

That's her blind spot.

But what will we do without the monk?

Every revolution requires a sacrifice.

They'll put up a memorial to him in Italy.

Didn't I tell you?

The birds were right!

How beautiful Communism is!

Just like in the prophecy!

But how can we know we're in communism?

Look at the fields jubilating, freed from the weight of Capital!

No private property could ever be as beautiful!

The first Comrade!

See, Camille? All of them communists.

I thought this was communism without communists.

He's an anarcho-syndicalist, he wears black and red.

Let's make sure.

Hello, hello.

Excuse me, Comrade,

are you a communist or an anarcho-syndicalist?

He feels offended by your suspicion.

Why's the terminology so tricky?

I suggest we stay here.

Who do you think this garden belongs to?

She just doesn't get it.

It belongs to everyone.

Which implies some duties.

We must make ourselves useful.

I'll look after the sheep.

I'll set up an anarchistic comic book library.

I'll start an ice cream exporting business.

Not very orthodox,

but we will need hard currency

to finance the world revolution.

We'll build ourselves a cottage here.

Everyone will have a room of his own.

I'll cook up mussels with truffles every night.

Hello!

The welcoming committee!

Get off my property, scum!

A misunderstanding.

She thinks we're counter-revolutionaries.

Seems there's still big landowners refusing collectivization.

Man is an enigma.

See, Camille? The red flag!

You mean that towel?

Here's the proof:

Stalin prohibited Suprematist art,

here it's attached to every lamp-post!

The food hand-out!

Hello Comrade!

Long live the revolution!

What's that?

Are you kidding me?

What did he say?

You must pay now! Money! Money!

You're not a good anarchist!

Get off, crook!

This is collective property!

Watch out, or I call the police!

You want to fight now?

Let them go!

Blessed are the poor in spirit.

Don't you see they're robbing me?

What's she saying?

The guy from the food hand-out is a little funny in the head.

So we hope you get well soon.

Almighty!

Where's Camille?

She must have gone ahead.

Where might she have gone?

Let's first ask for the allocation of a place to live, then look for her.

This is private property, you can't sleep here!

Hi dudes, looking for work?

Sancho.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

The birds were lying.

THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS

Please give a big welcome to the director,

Julian Radlmaier.

What a sexist asshole, making me leave them.

Thank you very much for this warm welcome,

and thanks to the Venice Film Festival

for giving us the great opportunity to show The Pursuit of Happiness here.

If anyone has any immediate questions, I would like to open up the room.

There. Can she get a mic? Yeah.

Hi, thanks. So my question is,

your film is not very optimistic

when it comes to change in society.

Maybe you could elaborate on that?

On the one hand, I really wanted to make a film that shows

the beauty of people who dream of a better world.

But then I also wanted to make a film about the tragic impossibility,

to make this dream come true.

Never trust a film you made yourself.

Yeah, but what makes it so impossible?

I think that global capitalism has become so complex and all-invading,

that it's difficult to even represent it.

So how can you change something, you can't think anymore?

And on the other hand, I also think that

capitalism has just totally colonized people's desires.

What about the working class?

To be honest,

I think there has been a sad intellectual decline of the working class,

or whatever is left of it.

I made some research for this film and was really shocked

about the absurd notions of politics the people I met had.

So I think, this is perhaps what the french philosopher Deleuze meant,

when he was saying that "today the people are missing".

So, to quote Lenin,

"What can we do?"

As I once said,

the only thing we can do is to keep on making art,

because to change reality, we would need a miracle,

and I really don't believe in miracles.

Well, If there's no further questions from the audience, I would like to say...

Thank God!

It was all just a movie!

I was beginning to wonder.

I'll tell the prison guard.

Sir,

you must let us go.

We're victims of a bourgeois' self-protective fantasy!

Shut up, ill-fated jailbird.

I've been with the monk for some weeks now.

My punishment has proved to be a blessing.

I'm trying to be his worthy pupil.

There's still a lot I don't understand, but a dog's more humble.

I'm ashamed of my arrogance; I'm ashamed of my treason;

I'm ashamed of not trusting others,

of just projecting my desires and fears onto them.

Now we're digging a tunnel to rescue Hong and Sancho,

in order to make a communism without communists together.

Perhaps it's not so hard after all?