Original subtitles

People must have something to feel safe.

Money… jobs…

promotions, apartments, land.

Stocks, faith, hope… love.

And a meaning of life, to boot.

Or at least a bedtime story…

- Nice to see you. - …giving sense to it all.

Let's not fight.

5 years. That's what I'd get if I fucking killed you.

It'd be a crime of passion, I'd probably get out sooner, but still…

- We're trying to bring her up. - I know, I'm getting in the way.

Us: me and you, are trying to bring her up.

Don't make her day, be a parent, understand?

What's wrong with that?

My father never cared whether I was happy or not.

You're a father now. The past is irrelevant.

When she came home, she was totally happy.

And I wouldn't be OK if I didn't tell you that.

But that undermines me, understand?

Now she expects great all-night trips from everyone.

- I'm sorry. - Cut the bullshit, Francois. Bye.

No one calls me that anymore.

C'est la vie.

- Jesus… - Fuck.

- What's going on? - The opening.

- No! - Yes! - I'm not going! - You are.

- I'm not going! - You are!

- I'm not going anywhere. - You are.

For fuck's sake.

Can't we stay home? We'd order…

fuck… something to eat.

Fucking look at me.

I got dressed, put make-up on and went out… for you.

Although I feel just as you look.

Drink this.

No, no, what are you…!

You have to.

Half.

"Thanks, Ela."

Thanks, Ela.

There he is!

Wojtek, over here!

Come, put it behind you.

I'll never put it behind me.

There… the fucking star.

Chill, relax.

Another one.

This is reality

- and in the mirror we see… - Hi, Dad.

Franek!

- Hi, Dad. - Hi!

This is my son, Franciszek.

He used to be a writer, and now…

Now he's just a son.

- Is it today or was it yesterday? - Tomorrow.

It's Franek's birthday tomorrow. "Happy Birthday"!

You're 35 already.

- 40, Dad. - I wanted to make us look younger.

- Ravishing, as always. - But still, you never remember me.

And I can't sleep at night.

- Master Czulkowski, the painting. - One moment.

- It's you. - Is it? - That's right.

It's a good thing you told me, I thought it was Jack Nicholson.

But you know the story how Jack and I swapped twin sisters?

I do, Dad.

Except it turned out later the sisters swapped us.

Bedtime stories, Dad.

Listen, cherish this. Don't sell it… and don't drink it away.

- The Potockis are here. - OK.

- Have fun. - Thanks.

At least he didn't scold me.

I know you're 18, but don't be 12.

Thank you. As always.

You should, as always.

Bye!

Hi, where are you?

Here?

In my story everything was simple.

When space got tight, I'd run.

When I felt lonely, I'd open the door.

I was in control.

At least that's what I thought.

I've heard about this place.

Have you? What exactly?

That it's cool. And you've got good coffee.

Unfortunately, I'm out of coffee.

He's on his way.

Andrey. Toyota Prius.

Will we meet again?

Probably not.

Thanks for being honest.

It's better that way.

I see you through.

And…?

I thought you were different.

- How? - Happier.

I'm not stupid.

You're not.

Hello. Could I get some coffee?

- Man, it's 2 am. - But you're here.

- It's my place. - And I live here.

- Why do you need coffee at 2 am? - To sober up.

And drink on.

Get some blow.

I don't know...

My wife left me.

You need company?

That's my wife. That's my wife.

That's my wife. And that's my wife.

Ex-wife.

I'm also divorced.

Got a kid?

A girl.

- Can you see her? - Yeah.

How often?

Pretty often.

I get 10 minutes a month.

She stands there with her watch, interrupting his every sentence...

intercepting my presents. The neighbour sends me MMSs.

LEGO blocks, in the dumpster.

Drone, in the dumpster. Bicycle…

in the dumpster.

Hey...

would you know how to get that...

blow?

Hello?!

Fuck, is anyone there?

Or I'm calling the police!

Hello!

What the fuck? The whole cafe is flooded!

Fucking hell.

- What are you doing here? - Me? I came to work.

And you?

Czuly…

the whole joint is flooded. From up here, all of it.

Everything, get it?

- Everything. - Mother of…

Motherfucker.

We need to call Olka.

Dude, you owe me 4 months pay, now this, I'm… totally fed up.

- I'll pay you next week. - Like for the past 4 months.

- Go home then! - No, I work here!

I'm responsible for this place, unlike you!

She's going to kill me. She'll fucking kill me!

All right, shit like this happens.

What were you doing up there?

Can it stay between us?

That guy...

was miserable.

Hi, Olka.

Listen, we've got a situation.

- I'll kill you. - It was the neighbour… - You, Czuly, and the neighbour.

- I'm going to him. - Hold on...

- Why, are you insured? - Not against accidents.

I was joking, moron. You owe me 6 months rent, you can't afford insurance!

All right, but how much will it cost?

New wiring, wall drying...

new floor, they'll find 20 other things… 50 grand, that's a cheap option.

Don't give me that look, I won't cover it.

Or you sue him, as the leaseholder.

Whom?

Fucking Kim Dzong Un!

Franek!

- Good morning. - Jesus, why aren't you at school?

- What's wrong? - Dad, what happened here?

A small accident. Why aren't you at school?

- I got mad. - At what?

Because I didn't study for that stupid test.

- What test? - Well...

It's not my fault the stuff at class is normal

and then the tests are like 100 times harder.

- You think anyone did any better? - I think your Mom is going to kill me.

But OK, I came here to give you your birthday present.

- Really? - Because yesterday I forgot.

It's so pretty! Thank you. Look!

It's beautiful, thank you.

You're the best. You've got a lot more talent than Grandpa.

- Can I stay? - No, honey, you can't.

You see what's going on. Don't let it get wet.

- I'll help you out. - No, hon. I'll take you to Mom.

- No... - I promise I'll see you on the weekend.

- I'll be back in 30 minutes. - Shoes. - What?

Put your shoes on.

- Surprise. - What's she doing here?

Bye, rascal.

- She came to me. - But how? She had classes.

Are you suggesting I kidnapped her from school and brought her here?

Am I fucked up?

I'm sorry, the cafe got flooded.

- But how did she get there? - Beats me. She's a big girl.

Maybe she misses me? Think about that.

- All right. - Bye.

- I'll think about it. Take care! - I will.

Hi. Is Borygo here?

- In the back. - Thanks.

Hi.

Borys!

Czuly?

- I'm afraid so. - Yes?

- How've you been? - Good. You?

Good.

Did you do any tests lately? Bloodwork, lungs?

I feel great, Borys. Better than in high school.

Strange things happen at our age. Out of nowhere.

Your pancreas can swell to the size of a football. And it's regular size?

- Listen... - I'm listening.

I need a loan.

I don't know... 50 grand?

It can be less.

I flooded my joint. The neighbour did. An elderly lady.

I can't shake her for the cash. It would be inhuman.

- Sure. - I need to handle it myself.

Sure.

That's a tough spot.

Do you really want it?

Because I think none of us would.

Because you want to have at least one person you don't owe anything to.

And I know you wouldn't pay me back.

If I borrowed... if I gave you that cash,

I'd have to dislike you, and I like you, man.

And that counts more than money.

- True. - I know it's true.

Be brave and strong.

Franek?

What are you doing?

- I'll be right back. - Dude, this is your business!

Make it your business for 5 fucking minutes!

A Czulkowski.

A double one.

I don't follow.

It's me.

My father painted me.

Czulkowski's kind of popularity works against him.

- I don't get it. - The market is full of him.

A huge demand, even greater supply. It'll sell fast, but for a market price.

- 10,000. - You're kidding.

30,000 and it's still a bargain.

- How did you come into possession? - I stole it. Are you interested?

15,000. Any other gallery would call the police.

Call them. I'll just show them my ID.

And after years of dealing crap you'll just lose a double Czulkowski.

30,000. In cash.

You're back? That was fast.

Janek... give me a double Bushmill's.

On the cuff?

The cops won't come here?

What the hell am I doing?

You're struggling.

How can I not struggle?

Let go.

Let go?

Some people cope, because they're born that way.

DNA, simple as that.

Janek, give me a bottle of the bubbly, to go.

Let go...

Good, you're back.

I said: this week.

Wow.

Thanks.

Thank you.

You okay?

You might need this...

I flooded the Warszawska.

What?

I got wasted with… that dude.

I turned the water on in the tub and I fell asleep…

The guy's probably still out cold.

For fuck's sake.

Man, you're… fucking unbelivable.

- Plus, I owe you a ton of cash… - Hold it.

Hold it.

I like you. I like this place and I don't want to shut it down.

This whole mess, the debts, all that…

we could treat it as your investment.

Meaning we would become partners, Czuly.

You would remain as the manager, but with a business partner. Me.

Just create the vibe, bring people in. You're awesome at that.

- Ola, it's really nice of you. - No, it's not nice, Czuly.

- I could rent this to a 24/7. - Why don't you?

Because I like this place, I like you, I'm trying to be a good person.

Great.

It's all really, really great. But I've got a different idea.

OK… surprise me.

My idea is…

fuck all this.

- What? - All of this.

I remember how you opened this place.

- You said it was your home. - What I owe you.

It's all yours, Ola.

Fuck.

- Hello. - How do you fucking feel now?

Selling a gift that came straight from my heart?

- Hi, Dad. - You messed up like a stupid cunt!

Do you always have to be a little shit?

Hey, Dad. How are you?

And the worst thing is that you got fucking made like an altar boy.

You could've sold it for 50, 70 grand!

- That's my problem. - No, it's my problem!

Because one Czulkowski got sold for a lousy 30 grand

and now everybody will wonder why should the pay more!

Yeah? And now what?

Hey!

- You're alive! - Are you the owner?

- No, the owner is inside. - I've done some serious damage.

It wasn't you.

- I was at your place last night. - Right, right...

We were drinking.

- I'm sorry. - Stop it.

It wasn't you, it...

it was me, all me.

- Go, talk to her. - Fuck it.

- I did. - Hello.

Everything will be just fine, Franek.

Say it to Marysia.

Once upon a time, I think it was in the 70-ies…

David Bowie took a train from Moscow to Paris,

with a stopover in Warsaw.

He got out for a moment at the Gdanski Station,

took a stroll around Wilson Square, then got back on the train.

Shortly after that he recorded a song about it.

The saddest one in the world.

He called it "Warszawa".

Not "Warsaw", not "Varsovie", but… "Warszawa".

Warszawa is a deceiver.

She promises you a win,

whispering: "It's all yours" in your ear,

so you love her like a mother…

you're her loyal soldier, and she slaughters you.

Pretending to be your home, she sucks your blood like vampire

undefeated even by Hitler and Stalin.

Smiling at you like a ticket inspector at bum,

or a gynaecologist at a young girl

who doesn't even remember what the guy's name was.

You can drink,

fuck, dream and love in Warsaw…

but always on credit...

Listening to "Warszawa", I think that Bowie was scared...

That his train might leave without him, and he'd be stuck here forever.

In Warsaw, like a prisoner.

Like the Count of Monte Cristo.

David Bowie made it for his train.

As for me, I missed the whole fucking platform.