Vezdesushtiyat (2017) - full transcript

The story of OMNIPRESENT is centered around Emil, writer and owner of advertising agency who gradually becomes obsessed with spying on his family, friends and employees via hidden spy cameras. What starts as an innocent hobby ends up as a total disaster, as in the process he abuses his new power and eventually comes to realize that some secrets should be left uncovered.


I am sick of you all uploading
on the FTP and not telling me.

I'll report you all to Nia,
and you'll deal with her.

-What's wrong with this guy?

It's about time we twisted our tongues.

-What do you think of my new pictures?
-They're great, Dev.

Oh, you're still here?

I was just going to turn on the alarm.

Since I'm always the last to leave…

You'll turn it on when you're done, right?

-Yes, thank you.
-Good night.

We'll turn it on, all right!

You okay?

Right. Kid, come here.

There we go.

Let me pick you up. That's good.

Come on.

You need to know
only as much as you can bear.

Even one truth too many may kill you.

They say the truth will set you free.

But the price of that freedom
is often unbearable.

The first camera I installed
was in my parents' living room.

Somebody was stealing precious objects
from their home.

My dad asked me to put in the camera.

Here it is.

Just like that, on the phone?

Yes, like that.

The professor
has been paralyzed for years.

He can't feel anything
from the waist down.

He fell down, broke a vertebrae,

and now he's bound
to a wheelchair forever.

There are all kinds of people coming in
and out of the house now.

Nurses, cleaning ladies,
massage therapists.

And one of them
seemed to really like antiques.

Easy now.

The camera became our secret
that even my mom didn't know about.

He makes for a very convincing woman.

I'd never looked into anybody else's life
that deeply before.

The suffering brought my parents
even closer together, and their love

seemed a kind of sacred mystery.

Time flies so fast!

These are like fossils, Kire.

They'll never come off,
even if I use a wire brush.

Let them be.

It's not like I can get new ones.

Stop it, Kire.

Weren't you supposed
to take me to the movies?

What movie were we going to see?

"Kill me, I love you."

Oh, Kire…

My patience was rewarded soon enough.

The thieving rat got caught in the trap.

But the trap
also caught some dirty secrets,

which turned my life upside down.

This story has already been recorded.
By dozens of cameras.

From its bizarre beginning
to its nightmarish end.

All I have to do is tell it.

Off we go to the bathroom.

-Grandma, can I help?
-That's fine.

How are you feeling?

How are you feeling?

I just saw him out in the yard.

If there wasn't a girl with him,
I would've kicked him back into the house.

-The little bastard!
-Hold on.

How old were you
when you traded in your grandpa's knife

for some rusty old toy cars?

Rusty old cars?

They were Matchbox cars!
Brand-new. Fifteen of them.

And they're now worth more
than that stupid knife.

See how it goes.

Our boy steals antiques…

sells them, gets some money,

then thinks the cash is all his.

He's probably stealing stuff
from our house too.

He'll get what he wants and he'll stop.

Trust me.

Leave this to me.

I don't think

Vasko realizes how precious
these moldy things can be.

Fine, have it your way.

What about that little eye?

We'll leave it there.

We have to keep an eye on the little shit.

And on the big one too.

I think congratulations are in order.

After Marian's psychotic episode,
we now have a complete recovery.

The psychiatrist in me
is no longer provoked,

so from a clinical psychiatric standpoint,
he is no longer of interest.

Marian, smile.

He is no longer of interest.

You've become boring
without the marijuana and the mushrooms.

Excuse me.

Yes, this nonetheless is a psychosis,
but it's not schizophrenic.

Which is why I believe that,
at this stage,

his medication can be discontinued.

-Thank you very much, Dr. Borilova.

-Thank you.

Good job, you.

Who is?


Vasil is stealing?

No way!

First, some old stamps disappeared.

Then a pair of Grandpa Boril's binoculars.

My dad sacked one of the nurses, remember?

Now some rosary beads have gone missing,

and he thinks it's the cleaning lady.

But only yesterday, totally by accident,

I spotted the beads in Vasil's backpack.

So? Did you talk to him?

No. I thought I'd get
the opinion of a specialist.

Annie is a positive-thinking
and rule-abiding woman.

She does her breathing exercises,
uses peppermint soap,

and eats wheat and raw nuts.

Strangely, she never farts.

My wife doesn't drink or smoke.

She likes beet juice,
which is why her poop is probably red.

Her career is flourishing.

And she still looks sexy.

Though she's taken sex off her agenda.

I, on the other hand,
smoke, drink, and fart plenty.


Not there!



-You there yet?
-I'm on the way.

Both of my men are traveling today.

Where's Vasil off to?

He went to Dobrinishte with some friends.

Listen, Emil, I checked Vasil's room,
but I didn't find anything.

I know.

-What do you mean?
-Well, he's not stupid.

He's not going to keep his loot at home.

Enjoy your freedom.
Leave the investigating to me.

-Okay, bye.


You scared the hell out of me!

-Why didn't you ring the bell?
-I did.

-You didn't.
-I did, but you didn't hear it.

-Thieves can just break in…
-Yes, right, and I won't even notice.

The biggest thief of all, he's already in.

I'll change the lock one of these days.

Look what I brought you.

Now, that's what I call a tomato.

A real garden one! Not plastic!

Thank you.

You have to polish the damn wooden floor!

It looks like it's covered in slab stones.

I had such a hard time getting the parquet

from the Kirov Factory,

and you fucked it all up.

-Dad, you're in the way.
-I'm in the way…

What the hell's this?

Seven bottles of vodka
and three of whiskey.

That's what great artists do, isn't it?

Does he drink in front of Vasil,
that clown of yours?


Let me ask you this.

How does he treat you?

I mean,

does he take good care of you, like a man?

You're crossing the line.

I'm crossing the line…

Somebody else is crossing the line.

Eurofootball 10/7.


I won! I won!

-You did?



-I think that was great!

Let's do another take.
It'll be better. Nia?


-Mr. Sokolov? Mrs. Stoyanova?

Kamba, come on.

It's good to have one more.

Pepi, you're okay. Rosie, you too.

Guys, what's going on?

Can we show a little more excitement?

I don't even see you sweating.

Let's do 20 jumps and then we'll do it.

Come on. That's good!
Hop on one leg, now on the other.


-Gele, let the camera pan over…

Kamba, you got it, right?

Let's go.

What do you think?

It's quite intense.

The new hot-shot is super eager.

I could never do that.

Bending over backwards
for the clients' sake.

Kanev is doing quite well.

It's our first big ad for the season.

Three days outside of Sofia.

We used to do ten a year,

and now we get one or two, so…

Yes, that's right.

Yes, that's right!

Do you really have no clue?

We're having problems.

We need 100K by the end of the month.

The trimester's almost over,
and we're really behind.

This ad will tide us over.

Hey, boss. Welcome to the front.

I say we don't break
until we're done with that scene.

It's not like
their meatballs will get cold.


Silence, please!

-I'm so glad you all came.

Do you know that joke?

Some guy asks a woman,
"How about a blow job?"

And she says, "I can't…"

And he says, "No biggie,
just as much as you can."

-That was rough.
-It's great!

-It's a little uncouth.

Anyone, more wine?

-Ah, here you go.
-What did you do?

Here, take this.

All problems come from
not drinking enough.

-Did you spill it?

You used to be all right
when we were young.

Then why did you stop drinking?

I don't know.
I just didn't like it anymore.

But now I like it again.

At this point in the evening,
proper men call girls.

And we've called a cab, right?


We'll be down in a minute. Let's go.

-I'm taking my glass with me.
-Come on, let's go.


baby, don't you want a cab too?

I'm just a couple of blocks away.
I'll walk.

Okay, darling. Bye.

-Somebody help me get up.
-Come on, let's go.

-Bye, Krisi.
-Hey, shouldn't we help clean up?

I'll help her. Don't worry.

The cab's waiting!

Are you okay?

I'm feeling a little tipsy.

-You want some water?
-No, thank you.

You'll feel better now.

-I'll give you a gentle massage.

Just relax.


-Biting the hand that feeds you.

It's all in the dice,
as my grandpa used to say.

In the dice, huh?

Hand me that box over there, by the vase.

Ivory! My grandpa used to play
backgammon with them.

He brought them from Jerusalem,
about 120-130 years ago.

Toss them.

A thousand straight!
With Grandpa Boril's dice?

That's the end of this game!

You're afraid, huh?

These pieces of junk have more value
to the soul than to the pocket.

It's like a journey back in time.

A souvenir of your favorite grandpa.

Who said you were my favorite grandpa?

One day, when I'm gone,
these old things will be yours.

They're yours.


don't sell them
like you did the binoculars.

Why, Vasse?

Why did you do it?

I needed money for a jump.

With a parachute.

It's Tsveti's birthday.
It's all she ever talks about.


Ooooooh, love.

You should've said so, Vasse.

I know where they are. I'll get them back.

I'm sorry, Grandpa.

The experiment could've ended
then and there.

I should've taken down the cameras
and forgotten them.

But I decided not to.

No, that's shellac.


What does that mean?

It's like Gelish but better.

It lasts longer and doesn't take off
half your nail with it.


Why do you spend all day
in this damn smoking room?

I'll start handing out fines. I'm serious.

She woke up
on the wrong side of the bed again.

You'll suffocate in here. Let in some air.

Humboldt is iconic.

But Oxford is the only place
where they can teach you anything.

But the Columbia scholarship
changed everything.

Otherwise, I would've had to work
and study in London.

Instead, I was living the life
for two years in the States.

He moved out?

Yes, he moved out a month ago.

He's now living with
his 28-year-old secretary.

You know that happens to a lot of men,
especially at that age.

It's a temporary slip-up, which…

All I know is that I feel like crap.

-What are you laughing at?
-Some stupid stuff…

You like it at the office!

I felt an irresistible pull
towards other people's secret lives.

Now I had to personally
live through the cameras' hell

in order to describe it.

To understand what one can do when
he knows the truth about other people.

I put the world around me
under constant video surveillance.

Soon I became one
with the future book's protagonist.

This made me happy
in a bizarrely perverse way.

There was no turning back.

Cool glasses, boss!

Are they prescription glasses?


What a douchebag!

Come on, dudes, hold on to that score!

Come on, change the channel!

What's going on?

When is this game finally going to end?

-You'll win. Don't worry.

The rear bumper's looking pretty fine.
It could use a little fixing, but…


Come over and sit with us.

Come have a beer with the proletariat.

Tell us what it is you're doing
in our neighborhood.

My apartment's nearby.

Your date, why did she run off?

She didn't like the shrimp.

-Have you ever had shrimp?

These are some friends of mine.
Nikki, car mechanic.

Tonev, a lawyer, and Garo, an artist.

Biser, "the Loko,"
is the owner of this place.

This is Jimmy.
He's one of our copywriters.

Ah, a copywriter…


Finally! Great job!

Go, Loko! Go, Loko! Loko, Loko, Loko!

What's going on? You all look parched.

The Canaries lost. You're buying drinks.

Come on, Biser. Let's do the other game.

Let's see if that nose of yours works!

Check this out!

You'll need a notary for this.


Okay. Let's start, boys.

Hold on…

There. How old is this one?

This is the glass.

That's the 12-year-old.

I'll recognize it
even if you mix it with beer.

Yeah, with this nose…

This one is a piece of cake.

That's the solera.

You're a devil, bro!

How are you doing this?

Roasted apple, cinnamon…
That's the 18-year-old.

-You can put these here.
-And this, over here.

Hold it! Carrying off a full plate!

-Did you at least wash your hands?
-I have to get them dirty first.

-Loko will be champions!
-Loko will be champions!

We'll see when you play us at Gerena.

We've always beaten you lately.

Yeah, but we have a new coach.

I'm going to…

After all this beer…

I don't get it.
How does he do it? He never misses.

Okay, right.
How about a whiskey in his beer?

He'll never be able to tell.

Let's bet on it.

-I'm betting against.
-Me too.

Dude's right.
How'll he know what kind of whiskey it is?

-Which one shall we pour in?
-Pass me the solera.

-So I had the brake linings replaced--
-But you can't just replace the linings.

-Yeah, it keeps making a squeaky noise.
-You have to get the brake discs.

-Whose beer is that?
-It's yours. It's cold too.



Why did you waste the solera?

-You're such a devil!
-You're crazy!

I feel sick!

So I see we're all here.

-Hello, Mr. Tunchev.

We can start.

Let me introduce Maria.

-She's an oenologist…

…but she's got so many diplomas
that she's responsible for

marketing and advertising.

I propose that we focus on the TV spot
while Emil here is with us.

He's the father
of our agency's creative team.

We have a clear assignment.

We have… we had

three boxes of the product,
as inspiration.

I, for my part,
got quite inspired last night.

Now, that's good advertising.

I assume the rest of the creative team
has also familiarized themselves, so…

let's give them a few days
to clear their brains,

and they can start pitching some ideas.

-How's Monday?
-How's Monday?

That works.

So, we have five days.

Just to point out
that Monday is in three days, not five.

But anyway,
we can take as long as you need.

We'd like something
that refers to us specifically.

A slogan that captures
that special state of mind

when we feel like having some wine.

But vice versa, too, the state of mind
after we've already had some wine.

-Excuse me?
-What you mean is…

So we have the slogan already.

The job's done before we signed
the contract. That's how I like to work.

Just to point out
that Monday is in three days, not five.

But anyway,
we can take as long as you need.

A slogan that captures--


-I haven't seen you since…
-…since high school!

It's been forever. What's going on?

How do you like working for Tunchev?

It's good. Your boss seems cool too.

He looks a little…
like he's permanently tortured.

He looks like Jean Reno.

And the lady boss? Nia, was it?

She takes everything so seriously.

It's a little like
in The Devil Wears Prada.

-That's a good impression.
-Just like Meryl Streep, right!

Yeah, Nia is kind of a bitch.

She won't let me finish my Master's degree
and won't pay me maximum wage.

-No idea.

Hold on! I just realized.

You never used to drink wine.
And now you're a sommelier?


Excuse me, yes. I still don't drink wine,

but it's my job to make it look divine.
I'm more into guys' things.

-I like vodka, fish appetizers…
-You were always such a hippie.

I was, but my job now is to lecture men
on young wine in crystal glasses.

It gets them all excited.

I speak about this sort, or that vintage,
and they say,

"You're so beautiful,"
and I just nod and nod.

You don't have it easy.


Something had happened
during that meeting.

Something different, something mysterious.

Only now, as I watched the video,
I realized what it was.

Had the cameras not captured
our first meeting,

Maria would've gone down in my memory

as a silhouette
on the opposite train platform.

So when do we meet?

Let's talk on the phone and we'll decide.

Ah, hey!

-Emil. Krisi.
-We all know your husband.

She's a colleague.
We're having a conference next week,

so we were discussing it.

Okay. We'll talk.


She's hot.

What does she specialize in?

She doesn't specialize in anything.

She's gay, not your type.

So she's your type, then?


They've already paid.
This is our most reliable client.

Hey, bosses!

Sorry to interrupt. I'm going to the bank.

Any final instructions?

Make sure you're clear
on the short versions that they want.

-That's it.

Nice shoes, boss.

Jimmy fucking Kanev.

Why Jimmy?

His name's actually Dimiter,

but he's from Sliven, where they
pronounce it as "Djimiter." Jimmy.

-He's cool.
-Tell me something.

How is it possible to be 30 years old

and have 14 years' experience
with advertising agencies,

while at the same time
having graduated from three universities?

Your dude.

-We have to keep an eye on him.
-Enough about that.

He works hard. He's got great ideas.

I don't give a rat's ass
about his experience.

Ideas, you say…

You're not banging the kid, are you?


I'm banging Tunchev.

I know.

Excuse me? How do you know?

How do you know?

I don't know. I just figured.

I could tell.

That's too bad.

I thought I was a better actress.

Are you in love?

I'm lonely.

He overslept.

I really don't get it.

We'll see him some other Monday.

-Ready to hear the masterpiece?

Everything's based on the slogan.
Which, I believe, you already know.

So, we have a shot of a wine bottle
and a crystal glass.

A man's hand pours wine into the glass.

The hand puts the bottle on the table.

A perfect drop of wine

runs down the side of the bottle,
moving in a very natural way,

following the irresistible force
of gravity.

It draws on the label.

The form of an exotic female silhouette
takes shape.

The female starts moving
to the rhythm of the music.

Her dance is contagious and exciting.

Everything's magical.

Slogan, "In the mood for wine."

Cool! Good job!

Did Emil like it?

I don't know.
I wanted to share it with you first.

Besides, he hasn't been
to the office in three days.

Emil is an advertising academic.

He should be teaching it,
not working in it.

Excuse me.

-You're not a fan, huh?
-Of Borilov?

Quite the opposite, I like him a lot.
I admire him, even.

But we need a boss who's right here
in the middle of the action.

Or at least someone who doesn't oversleep.



I wanted to…


…apologize for reacting so emotionally

to your presentation,
but it was simply amazing!


I'm sorry. It's the office.

Look, I'd really love it

if we could have dinner sometime.

Outside of all this work-related stuff.

Sure. But let's get the work-related stuff
out of the way first.


So, tell me. What do you feel like having?

You pick.

Okay, let's see.

You haven't eaten all day.
You could eat a horse.

You want to have something quick,
tasty, and nutritious, but…

you don't want to seem unladylike,
so you'll order rabbit food.

Fennel, carrots, lettuce.

And to start with, some bland rosé.

Bring us some ice-cold vodka.

Some of that appetizer I love.
And Borodinsky bread.

They also have white caviar here,
which is pike roe.

Crispy and light.
You can eat it with a spoon.

Now, what are we having for dinner?

Are you trying to impress me,
or are you really that hungry?

We can get to know each other
while we wait.

Tell me about yourself.

Maria Ilieva Sivova.
Born in the outskirts of Sofia,

right at the end of the regime,
in the family of a painter

and an applied artist…


Gay marriages were allowed back then?

My mom's the applied artist.

It's okay. Let me.

You can bring the rest. Thanks.

-Hold on. Let me.

-Let's drink.


And so, I went to university
in the Netherlands,

then Rome.

I studied a lot about something
that kills you less slowly than vodka.

And I know more about wine
than any red-nosed wino in this town.

Let's order wine, then. Just promise

you won't lecture me
on the crystal glasses.

That's delicious.

You're just hungry.

That's your phone?


But that's my ringtone.

It's my ringtone.

-You have the same ringtone?

Aren't you going to answer?

No. Coincidences don't exist.

When I read the book, I thought

it wasn't written by a Bulgarian.

That it was written by someone
who lives "over there."

An experienced man who's not embarrassed

to express how he feels.

It's this total baring of the soul,

which I quite like.

You have something to say
and you say it, Emil.

That's what my wife calls me.

She's a psychotherapist
and calls people by their full names.

I'm sorry.


my wife's cool.

It's just that…

we lived through
the whole transition together.

We had to eat lots of salt
and ended up getting pickled.

I'll admit something to you.

-It's still early.
-No, it isn't.

Look, I'm a very normal woman.

And it feels good to be with you.
I'm not a fatalist,

but you can't imagine
how many bullseyes you scored.

Even your ringtone's the same.

Tony, you have any of that tuna tartare?

Oh, no!

Hold on.

Memory is a whore.

You can't count on it in sublime moments.

You want to remember moments
of languor and excitement,

of sudden insights and erotic pleasures.

But instead, it retains
pointless images and strange faces.

Why does memory get to decide
what and whom to remember?

"He spun his web with caution and care."

"The silky thread
of the treacherous installation

rendered women powerless
and turned them into weak-willed victims

of their own lust."


Weak-willed victims?
Weak-willed victims, huh?

Am I a weak--

I want them all!
I want these authentic moments,

shot and recorded with full sound,
digital, zoomed in, polished, paused.

Love them!

Why are you wearing those glasses?

Fuck memory. Let it idle.

I have my own external memory.

I think Borilov is writing another book.
He's not around anymore.

That's his style.
He'd rather work from home.

He has his studio where he writes…

Yes, but he hasn't written anything in…
in seven years.

-Has it been seven years already?
-Yes, seven.

Well, he's only got one book.
Or am I wrong?

It may be one, but it's worth five.

ISIS took responsibility for the attack…



I'm scared to turn on the TV.

Death, every day.

I'm scared to think of what's coming.

I'm scared for you guys.

Anyone in my place would be happy to go.


did you finally find
that Larousse dictionary?

It's important. Please look for it.

Kire? What's going on?
Did you call for me?

Make way! Look out, people!

Emko, it was supposed to have
headlights, wipers,

a rearview mirror? And this?
No headlights, no wipers.

It's perfect.

I'm like Niki Lauda now.

It's your brother, Emko.

Say hi. Vasko, leave your grandpa alone.

Hello, Bore.

Is this a wedding anniversary or what?
What's with the empty table?

Come and help me.


Of course I'll tell them hello.

Emko, your old man
started talking to himself.

He keeps looking up, waving, whistling…

And how are you, Bore?

You're never on Skype anymore, son.

Do we have a new Canadian wife candidate?

Your brother thinks
it might be the brain's blood supply.

-My brother?

It's morning over there, right?

Wasn't my brother a lawyer?

God willing.

Mom, we all talk to ourselves.

You do it, too,
when you're all alone in the kitchen?

Admit it.


I saw that.
Don't, till we're all at the table.

How's Boril doing?

He's fine.

Want a sip?

-I don't drink and drive.
-Ah, sorry.


Mom worries when she sees you
talking to yourself.

Please, try not to do it.

We don't need to drag her
into our little movie.

How are you doing?

This question makes me sad.

How am I doing? I'm fine, goddamn it.

I haven't lost my mind. You guys
take care of me. Your mom's around.

Money, whiskey, girls.

Only thing missing is
the Larousse dictionary.

I've had my share of fun.
Now I get to rest.


the happy ones have the hardest time
bidding life goodbye.

That's the curse of a happy life.

So watch out with happiness.

Don't underestimate it.

It's a treacherous thing, happiness is.

He brought it back.

All of it.

Does she know?

About what? The camera?

No. She doesn't need to get
dragged into our little movie.

You seem to like this "movie" quite a bit?

What are you plotting, you rascals?

Madam, a dance?

Let's do a spin.

We're never going to get old like that.

Like what?

While still in love.

What we had is gone, isn't it?

I feel so…


so stupid.

Useless and old.

You're not.

Is there another woman?

I was just going to ask you
the same thing.

A stupid relationship
that's been dragging on.

I could tell.

one has to stand for the first toast.

But lately, as you all know,

I prefer to remain seated.

Forty-five years together.

Thank you, Svetle.

Cheers, children.

-Welcome to our house, my dears.

-Happy anniversary.
-Happy anniversary.

No way!


Actually, it's a matter of opportunism.

Men tend to take advantage
of the situation.

They believe in the biblical
predestination of roles and ages.

They believe
they can still father children

years after their wives have turned into

barren cows. Sorry.

It's atavism.

Did you speak to him about it?

Yes, I did.


cries and says he's sorry.

That there's nothing he can do,
that he's in love.

But he says he's worried about me.
He couldn't sleep.

He thinks what we had is gone.

He says I'm a saint
and he doesn't deserve me.

And the worst of it all,
he wants his freedom back.

Can you believe it?

He spends all day with her at the office,

then goes back to the apartment

he rented for her
and her eight-year-old son.

And they're together there too.
Well, enjoy your freedom!

Tell me honestly…

in spite of all this,
don't you feel some kind of

relief that he left?

Relief, Annie?

What I feel is a burden.

I feel anguish.

I come home alone.

I have dinner alone.

I go to sleep alone, if I can sleep
at all, despite all the pills.

I'm losing it.

Pack shot.
The bottle and the glass together.

And the slogan, "In the mood for wine."

Good job, sharp guy!

I like the idea.

I think it matches our expectations.

-Doesn't it, Mimmie?
-Yes, I'm okay with it.

The idea's fine. It's nice.


I have this feeling,

this déjà vu, if you will,

that I've seen something similar before.

Oh, come on, now!

Mr. Tunchev,

ideas tend to float around in the air.

Emo, if you're sure,
we obviously have to check.

But, as far as I understood,
that's not the case here.

Jimmy is presenting
his own original idea, right?

My own original idea.

I don't know what Emil--
I mean, Mr. Borilov thinks he saw…

I'm sorry to move in like this
on my own creative team.

It's just that
I saw Jimmy's idea on paper,

and now when I saw the storyboard,
something in my head clicked.

But it's fine. No worries.

Jimmy's already knee-deep in the matter,
so he can easily come up

with ten more ideas. Right, Jimmy?

Well, if it's all for the better.

Good job.

He ripped it all off.
It's almost identical.

We'll gloss over it. Don't worry.

I'm not worried.

It sucks that this piece of shit
is misleading us too.


I wasn't expecting you. Come in.

I haven't seen you in a week.

-Are you mad at me?

What's there to be mad about?

You should've come with me.

I missed you.

I don't like London.

Especially not at this time of year.

-It's so humid and--
-I would've kept you warm.


Krisi, look…

Look, this…

Krisi, hold on!

This can't go on, you understand?

It just can't because…

because it's not right,
and it's not my thing…

What? Loving somebody?

-Or feeling sexual pleasure?

Don't manipulate me! Don't torment me.

You're quite good at tormenting yourself.

I'm sorry.

It's over. It was a mistake.

A sweet mistake.

Without any consequences.

Your present from London.

It's really beautiful…

when such a bright soul has been poured
into such an ordinary body.

Are you referring to me, philosopher?


To me.

"To myself," not "to me."

This grammatically correct attitude
to my most ordinary ego wears me out.

Your ego's not ordinary at all.
Your ego is yourself.

That's the pizza.


Thanks. That's nice of you.

How did you find me?

I swiped your ID.

You dropped it,
and the janitor gave it to me,

so I thought
you might need it over the weekend.

Crap! I'm so muddleheaded. Thanks.

You can turn them upside down
in a few days. They'll dry…

and you can preserve them.

I'm not alone.
Sorry I can't invite you in.

You really shouldn't have come
all this way.

Thanks. You're really nice.


are you still mad at me?

I'm sorry. I crossed the line.

You did cross the line.

The truth hurts.

The truth…

You've started drinking.

When you lie down with dogs…

What kind of example
do you think you're setting for Vasil?

Sorry if I'm interrupting
a family meeting.

Nice to see you, master of the house.

A salute to you, sir.

We have to keep an eye on the old tomcat.

He's been peeing in the sink.

Cheers, darling.

Right in the bathroom sink,
though he has his own toilet

and he stinks up the whole house
like a public restroom.

He probably has some issues
with his prostate too.

That was very rude. And uncalled for.

Wow! That's the first time I've seen you
drinking in front of the general.

Right in his own bunker.
Have you no shame?

You could never get over it?

That you had to spend such a long time
living in the general's "bunker."

You know, I quite like
this past tense you're using.

That's right.

I could never get over the fact that he
"had" a key to the house where I "lived"

for 17 years.

And I "lived" here because of you.

And he "used" every chance he got
to throw it in my face.

"Such a primate!"

"This is where you were born.
This is where everything

reminds you of the best years.
This is where your practice is."

-"This is where…"
-…where I'll die.

That's right.

Sorry. This conversation
is becoming too dark.

Hold on! Please, hold on.

You're probably right.

I've been emotionally crippled
by my mother's death and

the general's care.

I perceive people as patients
and my friends as…

as nuisances who, for some reason,

can't bring themselves to ask me
about their problems.

You're quoting me.

You're a quotable author.

And, yes, you might be right.

I'm the one who needs
a psychiatrist the most.

I never said that. Sorry.

I was

raised by a tight-ass,

the Interior Ministry's youngest general,
a career cop,

the constant nag, but also the person

who's always had my back

and would never abandon me.

That's fate.

Very melodramatic.

A sweet mistake.

Without any consequences.

Your present from London.



Come on, dude, come on!

Come on!




What did I expect
from this stupid experiment?

To turn into a righteous viewpoint
of lowly passions?

To control and to know everything

without being able to understand anything?

To prevent crises, deaths,
and other people's sins,

to become "omnipresent"

without committing any sins myself?

No way!

Vessy, what's up? Is Doncho all right?

Everything's okay.
Emil let him have the day off.


Doncho fainted and swallowed his tongue.

His blood sugar fell. That's all.

Thank God Emil was here.

Have some water and stop coughing.

God must have sent Emil here
in the middle of the night.

It wasn't God who sent Emil.
It was Emil who sent God.

Another piece of wisdom from you.
Great job!

-I'm just worried that…
-Don't worry.

Acho, please have some--

Just a reminder that the mineral water
meeting starts in five minutes.

I heard you wanted to oversee
all preliminary talks with new clients?

I don't need to be there this time.

Everything's under control.


It's pricey.

That's all I can say at this point.

It only makes sense to have a TV spot

if it costs less than 10%
of the total budget.

And this is far from the case.

The story line determines the bottom line.

Or was it the other way around?

We can come up
with a different… story line!

You know, I totally understand
what you mean.

There's actually another option,

where we keep the story line,

but we cut the budget in half.

Go on.

We shoot the spot with an alternative crew

and a director selected by me.



I'll tell them you've had a better offer.

I'll send you the schedule by tonight.


-What's going on?
-I lost it.


We really have to watch out
with that little piece of shit Djimiter.

I'm moving out of my house, bro.

Also, I'm in love,


Wait, what?

Where's all this coming from?

"Jimmy's dangerous. I'm moving out.
I'm in love big-time…"?

I can't catch the drift
behind this triunity.

Your friend and I,
our session ended long ago…

and I fell for someone else.

Do I know her?

It doesn't matter.

Besides, you know everybody.

Well, let love rule, as they say.

I've been trapped, damn it! I'm a hostage!

Totally helpless. My hands are tied.

I'm curled up in the corner.

I'm longing to see my kidnapper's face,

to behold the girl
holding me hostage in exchange

for my previous life.

Why aren't you eating?

I'm looking at you.

And I'm embarrassed
to eat mussels in public.

You see?

And why aren't you drinking?

This rosé is a bit bland.

You want some vodka?

I want you to tell me what's going on.

I'm moving into the studio.

Oh! Is that leek I taste?

-Get lost!
-Let me see.

Garlic? It's very sexy.

Roll sound!

Klisurets. 3/11, take 16.

And action!

Only Klisurets can quench your thirst!

Who the fuck is that, for fuck's sake?!

You, cheating douchebag!

You're spying on me, aren't you?
You said I was a thief.

You don't miss anything, do you?

You're a jerk, you know.
You're spying on all of us?

There's lots of ways to know

when somebody's cheating you.
Or stealing from you!

Or screwing you on your own turf!

You fucking…

I don't ever want to see your face
at the agency.

Is that right? And what will you tell
everyone else? What about Nia?

"Jimmy's lying, cheating, and stealing
people's girlfriends. I spied on him."

Get out of my face
before I beat the crap out of you!

Huh, you narc? What did you have
on your laptop back then?

How did you know where to find us? How?

You want it all, don't you? You want
to control it all, to know it all.

Isn't what you have enough?

Isn't it?

I installed more cameras.

All around me.

You know how easy it is.

I want to write a book.

About a man who records
everything around him.

So that he doesn't miss out,
so he doesn't lose any of it.

Soon enough, he starts finding out

secrets and truths that…

And now I can't get out
of the plot myself!

I found out that…

you and mom haven't been
all that good lately.

I found out that

I actually don't know Annie at all.

That Vasiloev is fornicating
with the cleaning lady.

-Yeah, right!
-Yeah, right.

I found out a lot of other things too.

Everyone fucks, lies, steals,

exaggerates, overdramatizes,
and twists the truth.

"Hell is other people."

I realized it now, with all this…

It's just…

really hard.

How do you think God feels?

I guess he's used to it.

You're leaving?

You figured this out too?

See? You should've opened
your chakras years ago.

Don't pick a fight! I saw the suitcases.


Are you going to her?

To myself.

How dramatic!

Where's that?

In your legendary studio?

This armchair,

that Viennese cupboard…

those green crystal doors,

that limestone terrace,

all of it gifted
and delivered by the general,

with all his fatherly love…

That's not fair.

It's not fair?

We've lived here for 17 years.

Do you think I stayed all this time
because of the parquet?

Or because of the flawless copies
of the great masters' paintings

given to the general by the Party?

That's enough!

Why can't you say anything meaningful?

Meaningful? Let's see.
Something meaningful…

-There's nothing meaningful to say.
-There is.

We used to have it good.


Used to.

At the beginning.

Before the great analysis.

And even more so before the great silence.

Do you love her?

I hope so.

Is she young?

-That doesn't matter.
-It does.

-No, it doesn't.
-Yes, it does. Trust me.

It always happens like that.

-Like what? With men like me, you mean?
-Yes, with men like you.

Men who are selfish and strong,

weak, self-involved,


incomplete, misunderstood,

always on the edge.

-Here we go again! Okay.

I'm sorry.

You do have a valid reason for leaving me.
I haven't fucked you lately.


We've been living like roommates
for a year now, sister!

Like we're some kind of blood relatives.

If we fuck each other now,
it'll be like incest.

No, I'm sorry. If you're going to
change tactics, maybe I should stay?

It wasn't possible.

I had a problem.

Had to have surgery a year ago.

Nobody knew about it,
not even the general, but…

There were lots of fibroids.
They cut them out, but

something went wrong.

And why didn't I know?

There was no point.

What we had was already gone

long before.

-Annie, I'm sorry.
-Oh, please…

You're important to me. I'm sorry.

That's enough now. Come on.

-You deserve something better.
-Come on. Don't humiliate yourself.

Come on, get your suitcases,
get your bottles,

don't make any unnecessary moves,
and just go.

Come on, go. I understand.

You should be glad.
You haven't lost anything.

Emil's a social climber.
Emil with all his frills.

-A drunkard!

Please, I want you to leave.

Don't make me talk,
and don't make me listen to you.

He came to this house
with no clothes on his back.

Just his little dick
and his big ambitions.

What a shithead! A worthless scribbler.

Go away!

-Hello, Mom.

Your dad's gone.

He died in his sleep.

We're with you.

My condolences.

My condolences.

Now, your dad, he was a real man.

My condolences.

I'm sorry, bro.

You shouldn't be on your own now.

My condolences. May God rest his soul.


Emo, it's me.

-I'll be back in a minute.
-Wait, where are you going in that rain?

Maria, please! I'll just go get something
to drink. Just wait here.




-Hey! Let me see you!

-I haven't seen you since…
-Since high school!

It's raining pretty hard, huh?

One vodka.

Regular or double?

The bottle.



-There's the boss!

Triton came out of the sea!

Girls! Emo's back.

Are you eating regularly, dude?

I was just going to ask you
the same thing.

Here you are, boss!

-Hello, girls!
-What have you done to yourself?

Let me see him!

Hey, asshole.

I haven't heard from you in a month.
I was thinking of coming by your den.

I've missed you, beard face.

I'm stealing him!

Hold on a sec.


this laptop froze. Will you take a look?

I told you not to use this piece of crap.

That's what you get when you don't listen.

What's that asshole doing here?

Came to pick up his employment papers.

He better watch it, or he'll need
his health insurance too.

Okay, tell me everything.

I finished it, bro.

The fucking book.

It's done.


I'd really like you
to be the first to read it.

It might turn out you're the last, too,
depending on what you think.

You're scaring me, honestly.

You will understand everything.


seriously, I'm so grateful you didn't
make a fuss when I abandoned ship.

I was just going to do it now,
and you screwed me over again.

I'll send it to you tonight.

You don't expect me to read it overnight
and give you a review?

Damn it!

That's exactly what you expect.

Okay, fine. I won't sleep.

I'll be waiting for your masterwork.

You're a genius! You could've
pretended to take a little longer.

Just some viruses. I saved everything.

-It's all written there for you, but…

What's going on, Mom?

-You motherfucker!

Nia, what's happening, bro?

Somebody's uploaded your archives
to the Internet, you freak!

-Who did you send them to, asshole?
-Just you.

You only sent me the book. Who did
you send all the fucking videos to?

Nia, please tell me what's going on.

You hear me?

Your idiotic videos are
floating around the Internet.

-Meetings, porn, dirty shit.

Your father's death!

It's horrible.

What have you done?

The fucking book!

-It's amazing.

It comes straight from the heart,

from the depths of your soul.
Fuck you and your deep soul!

It's a book worth killing for.
Or dying for.

You tell me.



Oh yeah, that's really good.







I hate you! Go away!



-Mr. Vasiloev, any comment?
-No comment!

Stop filming!