Zmiennicy (1986–…): Season 1, Episode 10 - Krzyk ciszy - full transcript
ALTERNATES
One life's not enough to handle
the abundance of the burden.
Episode X
A SCREAM OF SILENCE
Who'll replace you for a while?
Lessen daily problems file?
A trustworthy alternate,
him and you, hand in hand.
World's spinning, time's flowing,
life's passing.
And the voice that keeps repeating:
Radio Taxi, please hold on.
We shall wait, we'll hang on,
we shall get to where we're told.
Frankly speaking,
everything's got its price.
If you're not equal to a task,
your alternate's the one to ask.
The right man that takes things easy
though spare part's often missing.
Dear faithful alternate's like
a spare wheel when you need it.
We know well those bends and junctions
we respect our memories.
Radio Taxi, hold the line.
We will do with understanding
being also understood.
Our life's being reeled,
spinning like fast like a car's wheel.
Speed it up and scud along
your alternate'll keep the pace.
Spinning round the serpentines,
moving on or underground.
Radio Taxi please hold on.
We shall wait.
There has to be something... There
has to be something round the bend.
Bedrock
Literary Institute
The store room is
our weak point.
We have to clear it out.
We have 800 kg of speeches
from the previous epoch.
The libraries ordered
it and paid for it.
But they didn't collect it
and the storage is filling up.
After five years the books
become our property.
Maybe we could
put it on sale?
We can't sell the same
merchandise twice.
And if we give
it another name?
Like what?
Recycled paper.
We kill two birds
with one stone.
We win the prize
for recycling,
beating Future Publishing.
And we get 100 rolls of paper
to distribute to the workers.
That will make our
employees work harder.
Sit down.
What else do you
have there?
The thing is that we'll
still be 50 kg short.
And if we buy The Collected
Works published by Future.
You can get them for
5 zloty per kilo.
It won't cost much and we
can say it's cultural activity.
That wouldn't be
fair to our rivals.
Take these two piles
of unordered texts.
It?ll be more
than 50 kg.
A classic knock out.
It'll be some time before
Future get back on their feet.
Are you free?
- Please.
- Thank you.
To the international
airport.
Wait there a moment and
we'll go back down town.
We have the flowers?
Yes, we have everything.
We have to print Oborniak's
"Scream of Silence".
He called again today.
I don't know what to tell him.
Tell him the usual.
We have many projects,
little paper.
Oborniak says that an argument
used five times becomes true.
You see.
Now back to our plans.
Can you translate
this into Turkish?
I bow my head to Turkish
literature which you represent.
We welcome you with the
traditional bread and salt.
These flowers symbolize
an old Polish saying:
Let all the roses bloom.
How will that be in Turkish?
You got everything?
I remember all I read or hear.
I can forget any past step.
It's important in our job.
Why should I read it.
That's a past antiquity.
You can memorize it.
It's just five pages.
No problem.
Why should
I learn it?
I can say whatever I want and
you'll recite this in Turkish.
- Alright.
- Is it a deal?
What can I do for you?
- Oborniak.
- What about Oborniak?
- We print him.
- Oh Lusia.
We print him and he'll start
spreading rumors that he
pressed us, that there are
political allusions in the text.
You don't know his kind.
He's dealt with
fishy publishers.
If he were dead there'd be
no problem but he's alive.
This'll kill him.
He might hurt himself.
Writers always say that but
in fact they're indestructible.
He was so sad...
He can't be sad.
He was just drunk.
Anyway, normal people
don't write novels.
They're perverts, psychos,
often pederasts.
Forget about him.
Study your text.
I've already
memorized it.
It's a good text we'll be
able to use it in the future.
- What does that mean?
- Very good.
1, 2, 3, 4,
5, 6, 7...
11, 12...
I know your language a little.
Do you mind if I share
a personal thought?
The knowledge of the
needs of the market,
knowing the current literary
trends and marketing practices
is at the base of our
publishing successes.
Something's wrong?
We're avoiding showing
important individuals smoking.
I see, excuse me.
Maybe this?
A manager smoking a cigar can
be associated with the past.
- Will this be alright?
- That's fine.
Camera.
I knew it.
I told you we
shouldn't have come.
- I warned you...
- Quiet, people are looking.
- He's dead.
- Who?
Jan Oborniak.
Calm down.
- You can't resurrect him.
- Everything is going to be alright.
I have some interesting news.
- To the camera.
- I see.
Attention.
Camera.
I'd like to finish with some
good news for our readers.
We'll print the first novel
of the late Jan Oborniak.
That is a good news. Too bad the
author didn't live to hear it.
Authors live forever in
the hearts of their readers.
I'm sure "Scream of Silence"
will be sold out immediately.
I'd like to add
to your thought.
Barewicz informed us that after
finishing "Heirs of Grunwald"
he will direct
"Scream of Silence".
The screenplay
is almost finished.
That's great.
Hello second shift.
What are you reading?
Legia lost a game again?
This writer,
Oborniak, died.
You knew him?
Very talented, young...
The hope of Polish prose.
That's why you're
so sad.
I didn't know him.
Two publishers were talking
about him in my cab.
Saying it's dangerous to print
him as long as he's alive.
Now they got what they wanted.
Can you remember
where you put it?
It was like this:
Last Thursday afternoon
I took the manuscript from this
pile and put it on your desk.
I put it right here and
you promised you'd read it.
- And I did.
- I was so relieved.
But I'm in deep trouble.
Get mi Poros,
on the double.
I can't tell you exactly, but
that warehouse is in Mokotow.
Lusia, take a cab and bring
that here as fast as possible.
Tax drivers know every
building in town.
Only don't take private cabs.
I want a receipt.
We have to think of a backup
plan if Lusia doesn't succeed.
After all
she's a woman.
Zosia, contact me with
Barewicz, right away.
Thank you.
I know you want
to be the first
but it takes at least
2 years to make a movie.
So the book will be out
before the movie anyway.
It takes up to 4 years
to print a book.
I print calendars
4 years in advance.
We have to leave
out historic dates.
Because within 4 years they
sometimes lose importance.
Today I got a calendar
for last year.
Oborniak's manuscript
is stuck somewhere.
I don't know who's reading it.
Your life is easy.
When I was managing a fish
store I thought that was tough.
Now I'd like to go back
to managing an Opera.
Could I xerox
your copy?
At the moment
that's impossible.
But you will get the first
copy of the hard cover.
Good bye.
With a dedication.
From me of course.
It's not extraordinary to find
what you're looking for.
But rare editions have
been found accidentally.
Sometimes I read a bit
from them myself.
What are you reading
at the moment?
A story taken
from real life.
I couldn't put it down.
I locked up to get some peace.
And finally
I finished.
We got it.
- Is this it?
- You're great.
I'm taking it with me.
Wait.
That weighs about two kilos,
I can't be 2 kg short.
I'll bring you some recycling paper.
Put this away. We'll be right back.
Alright.
- I'm in a hurry.
- What if it's not enough?
Good morning.
Can we weigh these papers?
Of course.
They started fixing the scales?
We're 10 dkg short.
Can we have this cardboard?
It's not for sale.
- I can't be missing anything.
- For last week's "Cross-section".
And "Friend"?
Thank you.
Good bye.
Close the door.
The devil brought
him here.
He's got too much
time on his hands.
Where is your
older friend?
He went to
the training.
But he was supposed to
save a book for us.
Yes, I know.
Hold on.
Where's the rest of the papers?
It's been swept away.
They work by fits and starts.
Today was one of those days.
But this isn't it.
What have you done?
You do someone a favor and
they're still complaining.
I hardly got it
out of the truck.
- Where did they go?
- To the Jeziorna mill.
So, will you take it?
We got them.
Krzysiek look.
A cab wants to race.
Show him what
you can do.
Now what?
We won't race with them.
We'll get them at the entrance.
- Let us in.
- Let me see you pass.
We don't have one, but
we're from the publishing.
You need the minister's
permission to get in.
He also needs permission.
No one can get in here.
- Why not?
- Government secret.
We recycle bills that
are no longer in use.
Did you hear me?
Now what?
There must be a hole in the
fence so workers can get beer.
That's no good.
Bureaucratic.
That's how you have to look.
Let's go.
We did it.
We have to
look serious.
What if we
get caught?
You have your briefcase
so we're alright.
Here are the right side piles.
Those are the left side piles?
It's still a bit messy,
but it'll be taken care of.
Where did you put the
stuff that just arrived?
- In the mill.
- Where is that?
Don't pick you nose
during working hours.
Stop.
Give this to me.
- What have you done?
- I can't hear you.
- Stop this.
- I can't.
This is the only copy of a very
important book. It's Oborniak.
All books are recycling paper.
You need the boss's permission.
Help.
How could you destroy it?
We destroy all sort of things.
A month ago we destroyed
Gutenberg's Bible.
A year ago we got 54 thousand dollars
by accident and we milled it.
What is it now?
I got it.
Marian was silent.
He knew he had to wait.
All was quiet.
The silence screamed.
It sounds interesting.
Too bad the rest
is missing.
There's no more. The cab
driver is waiting for his pay.
Let him wait.
I need this text.
Take the cab. Go to the widow
and to Oborniak's family house.
All paid by the publishing.
Oborniak lived in Skorec.
First go to the widow and
then wherever you have to.
Don't worry about the money.
This novel will pay for it.
Get going and don't come back
without the "Scream of Silence".
- That's for you.
- Thank you.
Thank you very much.
Let's go.
To Lazurowa Street.
Where do they sell paper?
This is a bonus.
One for you.
Really?
I'm from Bedrock Publishing.
My name's Walicka.
I'm Mrs. Oborniak.
- I came about your husband.
- He's not home.
Please, come in.
We suffered a great loss.
- This is from the Publishing.
- Thank you.
Please sit down.
If you knew how my
husband hated you.
You deceived him for a year.
He called Samelka an idiot.
But only when he was drunk.
in front of his closest friends.
But they shared
his opinion.
This is Janek's
favorite hit.
We've decided to print
"Scream of Silence" at once.
I heard about that on TV.
Janek foresaw it.
He used to say: when
I die I'll be immortalized.
He could be very intelligent,
even when he was sober.
The problem is the manuscript
is missing.
I came for a copy.
What?
This is the worst thing that
could have happened to me.
Yesterday a guy from the movies
came 'cause his copy was missing.
Do you have it?
It's a fake, made
a few days after he died.
Don't worry.
We'll do something.
I can't go back to
work without the text.
Something's wrong here.
The widow was a bit strange.
And so where is he hiding?
At his parents.
- Where is he from?
- Skorec,
He even used to write:
Skorec of a bitch.
- So are we going there?
- It's about 100 km.
Maybe more.
Culture is financed
all over the world.
Do you know that I never
read any of his books.
Too bad.
You'll hear it soon.
He wrote about life. Like the
short story "Bakery Party".
About a half drunk guy
who's looking for company
and end up in bakery,
the night shift.
It ends:
Marian walked home swaying
down the familiar road.
His dimmed by alcohol eyes
looked at the people of Skorec.
In vain chasing after
a piece of bread.
At the moment however
it was quiet.
It had to be Monday, otherwise
there'd be yesterday?s bread.
You're clever.
I like you too.
Excuse me, we're looking
for the Oborniaks.
Which ones?
Everyone here is Oborniak.
I am, she is, and so is he.
In Skorec we have only
Oborniaks and Kowalczyks.
We're looking for the parents
of that writer from Warsaw.
You mean Jas. There
was a writer in the country.
He's still here.
He beat his wife up yesterday.
If he had done it quietly.
But everyone heard.
He was right though.
What about Jas the barber?
This guy got the bakers so
drunk once there was no bread.
- Even Warsaw knows about it?
- Yes.
He lives on 90 Odwaznych St.,
fifth house on the right.
At least the communication
department reacted decently.
That's the house.
Postmen'll be angry, registered
mail has to be returned.
He was born and
raised here.
Everything is just
like in his novel.
The toilet's inside now, it
used to be an outdoor shed.
Somewhere here.
The can was far from the bed,
I had to walk through rain.
They were
shitty times.
- Who did you want to see?
- You,
about your son.
I've had enough of visitors.
What do you want from that boy?
You're not from around here.
I haven't seen you before.
- We're from Warsaw.
- Ask them in.
- Is that your son?
- What is this about?
We're here about the manuscript
of "Scream of Silence".
We hope you'll give us a copy.
I don't think we've got it.
We can check, but I doubt it.
Maybe he left some papers.
- He put stuff in the attic.
- We'll have a look.
Come tomorrow morning.
We can't, I came by taxi.
That's your
problem not mine.
We'll think of
something Lusia.
Can we stay the night
somewhere here?
We don't have
much room here.
You can stay at
Maria Oborniak's.
- This way.
- Thank you.
- It's not working?
- Hold on.
We don't have electricity
Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays.
You're out of luck.
But there's a lamp.
Thank you.
You'll feel just
like at home.
But there's only
one bed in here.
People have slept in it before
and nothing happened.
French springs.
The window opens on the yard,
you can't hear the drunks.
But if you don't like it,
I won't insist.
It's fine.
We're staying.
Where will I get this part?
I'll count it into the bill.
The government pays for it.
Thank you very much.
Good night.
We'll manage.
Don't worry.
You have nothing
to fear from me.
Same here.
It was a joke.
I understand.
Smoking a fag he looked
at her small breasts.
That's also Oborniak
from a story: "Quiet Sex".
That Oborniak
liked silence.
And you?
I'll go to the post office to
send my partner a telegram.
- Let the boy sleep.
- I understand.
There's no need to knock.
I'm waiting.
Are you free?
Heaven must
have sent you.
Take me to Hell for
a small stake.
Hey, mister.
You're in no danger.
I swear.
I saw a ghost.
The ghost of the
late Oborniak.
What?
Lusia.
Marian.
You already shaved?
It must be tiresome
doing that every day.
You can get
used to it.
Lusia, it's very late
and we have to go.
Turn around 'cause
I have to get dressed.
My parents told me
you were coming.
You're alive?
Master.
As you see.
Come inside.
A Jan Oborniak did die
here not long ago.
But he never
went anywhere.
He was afraid of getting
lost in a big city.
So when the radio called
saying they want to
interview the widow
I thought I could play along.
The widow declined so I gave an
interview as his twin brother.
I talked for 2 hours.
His life story,
artistic character, etc.
The next day I hear:
A talented young
writer Jan Oborniak died.
Two days later your ministry
put out a huge obituary.
I got a street named after
me and a dance group.
So in that
field I'm out.
I thought nothing more would
happen and then you come.
I was so happy I wanted
to go to town to a bar.
But a taxi driver saw
me and drove away.
It must have been
some aware admirer.
So what are you printing?
Do you have the manuscript?
I always type
two copies.
You got one and the movies one.
We're saved.
Your wife said that Barewicz
told her their copy was stolen.
They lost it.
Do you have more carbon paper?
It was the essence of life.
Years of work.
Would you like a drink?
- I can't, I'm driving.
- You mean you're sitting.
- And you?
- In mourning of you novel.
There's nothing
else left.
Why didn't you put in
another carbon paper?
Carbon paper.
Now even dying isn't worth it.
What are you staring at?
I'm looking at the picture.
It wasn't there but now it is.
People have memories and
they reconstructed it.
No way.
They've had it for years.
I already forgot everything.
You can't bathe twice
in the same river.
This year I bathed
three times in Swider.
I wasn't talking
about you.
I know only
fragments.
Try from the
beginning.
Marian angrily kicked
a rusty tin can.
It rolled rattling. 'Cause of
a dumb prank he lost his pass to
...the canteen.
That's a fragment of my prose.
I know whole chapters by heart.
No one believes it.
If you worked together how long
would it take to re-write it?
I can do 30 pages a day.
Counting free Saturdays
that'll be about two weeks.
If you could write so fast you'd
be making 50 novels a year.
How did you
calculate that?
It took 2 years to
build Bristol Hotel.
The renovation is to take 10,
second time's always longer.
What's going on? I've been
waiting for you since morning.
- I was held up out of town.
- You had time to shave.
I sent you
a telegram to Zatory.
The postman said the P.O. pays
3 times more for a telegram.
If it comes in late it's no
longer a telegram and they save.
One life's not enough to handle
the abundance of the burden.
Episode X
A SCREAM OF SILENCE
Who'll replace you for a while?
Lessen daily problems file?
A trustworthy alternate,
him and you, hand in hand.
World's spinning, time's flowing,
life's passing.
And the voice that keeps repeating:
Radio Taxi, please hold on.
We shall wait, we'll hang on,
we shall get to where we're told.
Frankly speaking,
everything's got its price.
If you're not equal to a task,
your alternate's the one to ask.
The right man that takes things easy
though spare part's often missing.
Dear faithful alternate's like
a spare wheel when you need it.
We know well those bends and junctions
we respect our memories.
Radio Taxi, hold the line.
We will do with understanding
being also understood.
Our life's being reeled,
spinning like fast like a car's wheel.
Speed it up and scud along
your alternate'll keep the pace.
Spinning round the serpentines,
moving on or underground.
Radio Taxi please hold on.
We shall wait.
There has to be something... There
has to be something round the bend.
Bedrock
Literary Institute
The store room is
our weak point.
We have to clear it out.
We have 800 kg of speeches
from the previous epoch.
The libraries ordered
it and paid for it.
But they didn't collect it
and the storage is filling up.
After five years the books
become our property.
Maybe we could
put it on sale?
We can't sell the same
merchandise twice.
And if we give
it another name?
Like what?
Recycled paper.
We kill two birds
with one stone.
We win the prize
for recycling,
beating Future Publishing.
And we get 100 rolls of paper
to distribute to the workers.
That will make our
employees work harder.
Sit down.
What else do you
have there?
The thing is that we'll
still be 50 kg short.
And if we buy The Collected
Works published by Future.
You can get them for
5 zloty per kilo.
It won't cost much and we
can say it's cultural activity.
That wouldn't be
fair to our rivals.
Take these two piles
of unordered texts.
It?ll be more
than 50 kg.
A classic knock out.
It'll be some time before
Future get back on their feet.
Are you free?
- Please.
- Thank you.
To the international
airport.
Wait there a moment and
we'll go back down town.
We have the flowers?
Yes, we have everything.
We have to print Oborniak's
"Scream of Silence".
He called again today.
I don't know what to tell him.
Tell him the usual.
We have many projects,
little paper.
Oborniak says that an argument
used five times becomes true.
You see.
Now back to our plans.
Can you translate
this into Turkish?
I bow my head to Turkish
literature which you represent.
We welcome you with the
traditional bread and salt.
These flowers symbolize
an old Polish saying:
Let all the roses bloom.
How will that be in Turkish?
You got everything?
I remember all I read or hear.
I can forget any past step.
It's important in our job.
Why should I read it.
That's a past antiquity.
You can memorize it.
It's just five pages.
No problem.
Why should
I learn it?
I can say whatever I want and
you'll recite this in Turkish.
- Alright.
- Is it a deal?
What can I do for you?
- Oborniak.
- What about Oborniak?
- We print him.
- Oh Lusia.
We print him and he'll start
spreading rumors that he
pressed us, that there are
political allusions in the text.
You don't know his kind.
He's dealt with
fishy publishers.
If he were dead there'd be
no problem but he's alive.
This'll kill him.
He might hurt himself.
Writers always say that but
in fact they're indestructible.
He was so sad...
He can't be sad.
He was just drunk.
Anyway, normal people
don't write novels.
They're perverts, psychos,
often pederasts.
Forget about him.
Study your text.
I've already
memorized it.
It's a good text we'll be
able to use it in the future.
- What does that mean?
- Very good.
1, 2, 3, 4,
5, 6, 7...
11, 12...
I know your language a little.
Do you mind if I share
a personal thought?
The knowledge of the
needs of the market,
knowing the current literary
trends and marketing practices
is at the base of our
publishing successes.
Something's wrong?
We're avoiding showing
important individuals smoking.
I see, excuse me.
Maybe this?
A manager smoking a cigar can
be associated with the past.
- Will this be alright?
- That's fine.
Camera.
I knew it.
I told you we
shouldn't have come.
- I warned you...
- Quiet, people are looking.
- He's dead.
- Who?
Jan Oborniak.
Calm down.
- You can't resurrect him.
- Everything is going to be alright.
I have some interesting news.
- To the camera.
- I see.
Attention.
Camera.
I'd like to finish with some
good news for our readers.
We'll print the first novel
of the late Jan Oborniak.
That is a good news. Too bad the
author didn't live to hear it.
Authors live forever in
the hearts of their readers.
I'm sure "Scream of Silence"
will be sold out immediately.
I'd like to add
to your thought.
Barewicz informed us that after
finishing "Heirs of Grunwald"
he will direct
"Scream of Silence".
The screenplay
is almost finished.
That's great.
Hello second shift.
What are you reading?
Legia lost a game again?
This writer,
Oborniak, died.
You knew him?
Very talented, young...
The hope of Polish prose.
That's why you're
so sad.
I didn't know him.
Two publishers were talking
about him in my cab.
Saying it's dangerous to print
him as long as he's alive.
Now they got what they wanted.
Can you remember
where you put it?
It was like this:
Last Thursday afternoon
I took the manuscript from this
pile and put it on your desk.
I put it right here and
you promised you'd read it.
- And I did.
- I was so relieved.
But I'm in deep trouble.
Get mi Poros,
on the double.
I can't tell you exactly, but
that warehouse is in Mokotow.
Lusia, take a cab and bring
that here as fast as possible.
Tax drivers know every
building in town.
Only don't take private cabs.
I want a receipt.
We have to think of a backup
plan if Lusia doesn't succeed.
After all
she's a woman.
Zosia, contact me with
Barewicz, right away.
Thank you.
I know you want
to be the first
but it takes at least
2 years to make a movie.
So the book will be out
before the movie anyway.
It takes up to 4 years
to print a book.
I print calendars
4 years in advance.
We have to leave
out historic dates.
Because within 4 years they
sometimes lose importance.
Today I got a calendar
for last year.
Oborniak's manuscript
is stuck somewhere.
I don't know who's reading it.
Your life is easy.
When I was managing a fish
store I thought that was tough.
Now I'd like to go back
to managing an Opera.
Could I xerox
your copy?
At the moment
that's impossible.
But you will get the first
copy of the hard cover.
Good bye.
With a dedication.
From me of course.
It's not extraordinary to find
what you're looking for.
But rare editions have
been found accidentally.
Sometimes I read a bit
from them myself.
What are you reading
at the moment?
A story taken
from real life.
I couldn't put it down.
I locked up to get some peace.
And finally
I finished.
We got it.
- Is this it?
- You're great.
I'm taking it with me.
Wait.
That weighs about two kilos,
I can't be 2 kg short.
I'll bring you some recycling paper.
Put this away. We'll be right back.
Alright.
- I'm in a hurry.
- What if it's not enough?
Good morning.
Can we weigh these papers?
Of course.
They started fixing the scales?
We're 10 dkg short.
Can we have this cardboard?
It's not for sale.
- I can't be missing anything.
- For last week's "Cross-section".
And "Friend"?
Thank you.
Good bye.
Close the door.
The devil brought
him here.
He's got too much
time on his hands.
Where is your
older friend?
He went to
the training.
But he was supposed to
save a book for us.
Yes, I know.
Hold on.
Where's the rest of the papers?
It's been swept away.
They work by fits and starts.
Today was one of those days.
But this isn't it.
What have you done?
You do someone a favor and
they're still complaining.
I hardly got it
out of the truck.
- Where did they go?
- To the Jeziorna mill.
So, will you take it?
We got them.
Krzysiek look.
A cab wants to race.
Show him what
you can do.
Now what?
We won't race with them.
We'll get them at the entrance.
- Let us in.
- Let me see you pass.
We don't have one, but
we're from the publishing.
You need the minister's
permission to get in.
He also needs permission.
No one can get in here.
- Why not?
- Government secret.
We recycle bills that
are no longer in use.
Did you hear me?
Now what?
There must be a hole in the
fence so workers can get beer.
That's no good.
Bureaucratic.
That's how you have to look.
Let's go.
We did it.
We have to
look serious.
What if we
get caught?
You have your briefcase
so we're alright.
Here are the right side piles.
Those are the left side piles?
It's still a bit messy,
but it'll be taken care of.
Where did you put the
stuff that just arrived?
- In the mill.
- Where is that?
Don't pick you nose
during working hours.
Stop.
Give this to me.
- What have you done?
- I can't hear you.
- Stop this.
- I can't.
This is the only copy of a very
important book. It's Oborniak.
All books are recycling paper.
You need the boss's permission.
Help.
How could you destroy it?
We destroy all sort of things.
A month ago we destroyed
Gutenberg's Bible.
A year ago we got 54 thousand dollars
by accident and we milled it.
What is it now?
I got it.
Marian was silent.
He knew he had to wait.
All was quiet.
The silence screamed.
It sounds interesting.
Too bad the rest
is missing.
There's no more. The cab
driver is waiting for his pay.
Let him wait.
I need this text.
Take the cab. Go to the widow
and to Oborniak's family house.
All paid by the publishing.
Oborniak lived in Skorec.
First go to the widow and
then wherever you have to.
Don't worry about the money.
This novel will pay for it.
Get going and don't come back
without the "Scream of Silence".
- That's for you.
- Thank you.
Thank you very much.
Let's go.
To Lazurowa Street.
Where do they sell paper?
This is a bonus.
One for you.
Really?
I'm from Bedrock Publishing.
My name's Walicka.
I'm Mrs. Oborniak.
- I came about your husband.
- He's not home.
Please, come in.
We suffered a great loss.
- This is from the Publishing.
- Thank you.
Please sit down.
If you knew how my
husband hated you.
You deceived him for a year.
He called Samelka an idiot.
But only when he was drunk.
in front of his closest friends.
But they shared
his opinion.
This is Janek's
favorite hit.
We've decided to print
"Scream of Silence" at once.
I heard about that on TV.
Janek foresaw it.
He used to say: when
I die I'll be immortalized.
He could be very intelligent,
even when he was sober.
The problem is the manuscript
is missing.
I came for a copy.
What?
This is the worst thing that
could have happened to me.
Yesterday a guy from the movies
came 'cause his copy was missing.
Do you have it?
It's a fake, made
a few days after he died.
Don't worry.
We'll do something.
I can't go back to
work without the text.
Something's wrong here.
The widow was a bit strange.
And so where is he hiding?
At his parents.
- Where is he from?
- Skorec,
He even used to write:
Skorec of a bitch.
- So are we going there?
- It's about 100 km.
Maybe more.
Culture is financed
all over the world.
Do you know that I never
read any of his books.
Too bad.
You'll hear it soon.
He wrote about life. Like the
short story "Bakery Party".
About a half drunk guy
who's looking for company
and end up in bakery,
the night shift.
It ends:
Marian walked home swaying
down the familiar road.
His dimmed by alcohol eyes
looked at the people of Skorec.
In vain chasing after
a piece of bread.
At the moment however
it was quiet.
It had to be Monday, otherwise
there'd be yesterday?s bread.
You're clever.
I like you too.
Excuse me, we're looking
for the Oborniaks.
Which ones?
Everyone here is Oborniak.
I am, she is, and so is he.
In Skorec we have only
Oborniaks and Kowalczyks.
We're looking for the parents
of that writer from Warsaw.
You mean Jas. There
was a writer in the country.
He's still here.
He beat his wife up yesterday.
If he had done it quietly.
But everyone heard.
He was right though.
What about Jas the barber?
This guy got the bakers so
drunk once there was no bread.
- Even Warsaw knows about it?
- Yes.
He lives on 90 Odwaznych St.,
fifth house on the right.
At least the communication
department reacted decently.
That's the house.
Postmen'll be angry, registered
mail has to be returned.
He was born and
raised here.
Everything is just
like in his novel.
The toilet's inside now, it
used to be an outdoor shed.
Somewhere here.
The can was far from the bed,
I had to walk through rain.
They were
shitty times.
- Who did you want to see?
- You,
about your son.
I've had enough of visitors.
What do you want from that boy?
You're not from around here.
I haven't seen you before.
- We're from Warsaw.
- Ask them in.
- Is that your son?
- What is this about?
We're here about the manuscript
of "Scream of Silence".
We hope you'll give us a copy.
I don't think we've got it.
We can check, but I doubt it.
Maybe he left some papers.
- He put stuff in the attic.
- We'll have a look.
Come tomorrow morning.
We can't, I came by taxi.
That's your
problem not mine.
We'll think of
something Lusia.
Can we stay the night
somewhere here?
We don't have
much room here.
You can stay at
Maria Oborniak's.
- This way.
- Thank you.
- It's not working?
- Hold on.
We don't have electricity
Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays.
You're out of luck.
But there's a lamp.
Thank you.
You'll feel just
like at home.
But there's only
one bed in here.
People have slept in it before
and nothing happened.
French springs.
The window opens on the yard,
you can't hear the drunks.
But if you don't like it,
I won't insist.
It's fine.
We're staying.
Where will I get this part?
I'll count it into the bill.
The government pays for it.
Thank you very much.
Good night.
We'll manage.
Don't worry.
You have nothing
to fear from me.
Same here.
It was a joke.
I understand.
Smoking a fag he looked
at her small breasts.
That's also Oborniak
from a story: "Quiet Sex".
That Oborniak
liked silence.
And you?
I'll go to the post office to
send my partner a telegram.
- Let the boy sleep.
- I understand.
There's no need to knock.
I'm waiting.
Are you free?
Heaven must
have sent you.
Take me to Hell for
a small stake.
Hey, mister.
You're in no danger.
I swear.
I saw a ghost.
The ghost of the
late Oborniak.
What?
Lusia.
Marian.
You already shaved?
It must be tiresome
doing that every day.
You can get
used to it.
Lusia, it's very late
and we have to go.
Turn around 'cause
I have to get dressed.
My parents told me
you were coming.
You're alive?
Master.
As you see.
Come inside.
A Jan Oborniak did die
here not long ago.
But he never
went anywhere.
He was afraid of getting
lost in a big city.
So when the radio called
saying they want to
interview the widow
I thought I could play along.
The widow declined so I gave an
interview as his twin brother.
I talked for 2 hours.
His life story,
artistic character, etc.
The next day I hear:
A talented young
writer Jan Oborniak died.
Two days later your ministry
put out a huge obituary.
I got a street named after
me and a dance group.
So in that
field I'm out.
I thought nothing more would
happen and then you come.
I was so happy I wanted
to go to town to a bar.
But a taxi driver saw
me and drove away.
It must have been
some aware admirer.
So what are you printing?
Do you have the manuscript?
I always type
two copies.
You got one and the movies one.
We're saved.
Your wife said that Barewicz
told her their copy was stolen.
They lost it.
Do you have more carbon paper?
It was the essence of life.
Years of work.
Would you like a drink?
- I can't, I'm driving.
- You mean you're sitting.
- And you?
- In mourning of you novel.
There's nothing
else left.
Why didn't you put in
another carbon paper?
Carbon paper.
Now even dying isn't worth it.
What are you staring at?
I'm looking at the picture.
It wasn't there but now it is.
People have memories and
they reconstructed it.
No way.
They've had it for years.
I already forgot everything.
You can't bathe twice
in the same river.
This year I bathed
three times in Swider.
I wasn't talking
about you.
I know only
fragments.
Try from the
beginning.
Marian angrily kicked
a rusty tin can.
It rolled rattling. 'Cause of
a dumb prank he lost his pass to
...the canteen.
That's a fragment of my prose.
I know whole chapters by heart.
No one believes it.
If you worked together how long
would it take to re-write it?
I can do 30 pages a day.
Counting free Saturdays
that'll be about two weeks.
If you could write so fast you'd
be making 50 novels a year.
How did you
calculate that?
It took 2 years to
build Bristol Hotel.
The renovation is to take 10,
second time's always longer.
What's going on? I've been
waiting for you since morning.
- I was held up out of town.
- You had time to shave.
I sent you
a telegram to Zatory.
The postman said the P.O. pays
3 times more for a telegram.
If it comes in late it's no
longer a telegram and they save.