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I knocked, I cried She wouldn't open up
So I put my little head Down on the stone
Head on stone Feet on the threshold
Open up, my love For the fear of God
You're not afraid it's too crude, too primitive?
No, why?
Where I come from every drunk sings like this.
No, no, I won't marry a master
I'll marry someone of my own ilk
I won't go drinking with you Because I'll only regret it
Two hearts, four eyes
Crying all day and all night
Dark eyes, you cry because
You can't be together
Is this a God given love
Or one whispered by the Devil?
This is beautiful.
What language are they singing in?
Lemko.
Thought so.
Shame.
Why?
That it's not ours.
Mr. Kaczmarek, whether it's ours or not is none of your business.
Young friends! You may be wondering...
What you're doing here, in front of this stately home.
Well, this is now your home.
Through this door you will enter a world of music, song and dance.
Music, born in the fields.
The music of your grandparents, and their grandparents.
The music of pain and humiliation.
Of joy too, even if through tears.
You may also be wondering, will everyone be allowed through this door?
And my answer is: absolutely not.
Only the best of the best will make it.
And then, under the careful supervision of our tutors,
you will step onto our nation's stages, and the stages of our brotherly nations.
So I invite you to join the fierce and noble struggle
with yourselves and with each other.
No more will the talents of the People go to waste. Hurrah!
Do we have to be able to read music?
They want it peasant-style.
And you? What will you sing?
A mountain tune.
And you?
Don't know yet.
How does it go, this tune of yours?
Nice, I know it.
It would be nice with two voices.
I'm over the water And you're over the water
How are we going To get together
Thank you.
Excuse me, miss with the fringe...
What else have you got?
- To sing? - Yes.
How many sweet, good girls
With pretty names
But only one of them suffers
There's no sleep when you're in love.
- Thank you. - And the chorus.
Heart, you don't care for peace
Heart, it's great to be alive
Heart, it's so good you're like this
Thank you, Heart, for knowing
How to love like this
- Where did you get that song? - The movies.
A travelling cinema showed a Russian musical in our village.
That's where it's from.
- And what is it about? - Love, of course! "Heart."
How's your dancing?
I know the basic moves. The rest I can learn.
That's wonderful. Thank you.
Thank you.
The other one had a beautiful, pure voice.
- But this one also has something... - What?
Energy. Spirit. She's original.
As you like.
We should get a dozen dancers together from that bunch.
You see your girl?
Which girl?
The "Heart" one.
She is up to something.
Quite a number.
She's not from the mountains, but from Tomaszéw. Bit of a con.
- But she sings well. - And she did time, too.
What?
Apparently she killed her father.
Apparently. And she still has a suspended sentence.
How do you know?
Kaczmarek checked her out.
Head, Zula...
WE WELCOME TOMORROW.
Now fix it there.
Fuck.
So what's the story with the father?
- Whose father? - Yours.
What do you mean?
What did you do time for?
He mistook me for my mother so I used a knife to show him the difference.
He didn't die, don't worry.
Are you interested in me because of my talent? Or just in general?
Try this.
Not bad.
Leg higher!
Good.
Beautiful, Mateusz, bravo!
Keep to the tempo!
Look at each other!
One two three, one two three, hook and... turn!
Two hearts, four eyes
Crying all day and all night
Dark eyes, you cry because
You cannot be together
My mother forbade me
From loving this lad
A heart would have to be Made of stone
Not to love that boy
I've had enough of this.
Let's go.
- Wait a bit. Let's enjoy this. - Let them have their fun.
We can have our own.
I have to tell you something.
I never believed in all this folky stuff.
But this... it moved me. You are a genius.
To take something so... And make it so beautiful...
Thank you both.
This is the most beautiful day of my life.
In your repertoire you access priceless treasures
of our People's culture. This is highly commendable.
We want you to become a living calling card for our Fatherland.
But I think it's time to add something new to your repertoire.
About Land Reform, World Peace and the threats to it.
A strong number about the Leader of the World Proletariat.
And we, in turn, will do everything in our power to show our gratitude.
And then, who knows... Berlin, Prague, Budapest, Moscow.
What do you think?
I would like to express gratitude on behalf of the whole ensemble
for your appreciation of our hard work.
But when it comes to our repertoire, it's based on authentic folk art.
The rural population doesn't sing about
Land Reform, Peace and Leaders.
Simply doesn't do it, so it would be difficult.
I understand.
If I may... Kaczmarek Lech, Administrative Manager.
Comrade Bielecka, I assure you that our nation
is not so ignorant, including its rural elements.
Quite the contrary. And it will sing about those issues.
As long as it is encouraged...
and given direction.
This, I believe, is exactly what the role of our ensemble should be.
Thank you.
...of the wise, beloved by all
Wonderful Stalin
Most beautiful songs Of our age are sung
We swear to you, Fatherland...
On the testament of the great patriots and revolutionaries...
Feliks Dzieriyfiski and Karol Swierczewski...
We're going to Berlin.
To the International Festival of Youth in December.
Berlin today, Moscow tomorrow, and then... God knows where.
Shouldn't we do something about Janicka?
- What about her? - She's too dark.
We need a folk appearance. A pure Polish, Slav look.
Just look at her eyes.
How do you know about Berlin?
From the Minister.
Maybe I exaggerate. We could dye her hair.
I'll be with you till the end of the world.
But I have to tell you something.
I am ratting on you.
What do you mean "ratting"?
I go to Kaczmarek every week and "confess."
But I never tell anything that could hurt you.
The worst part is, he's hitting on me.
What does he want to know?
Things... What you did during the war. If you listen to Radio Liberty.
If you have dollars. If you believe in God.
Do you?
I do.
I knew it! Fuck, I'm an idiot.
What would you do in my place? I'm on probation.
They wouldn't have let me in otherwise!
Wiktor!
Go and fuck yourself, bourgeois wanker! Whatever!
If I wanted, I could fuck you up good and proper!
As you all know, these days Berlin is the front line
between the socialist and the imperialist camp.
Between the forces of Peace and the Revanchists.
And on the front line, as is the way with front lines, anything can happen.
So we must stick together, be vigilant and responsible for one another.
And whatever they say, Germans are still Germans.
So here's to the adventure of a lifetime.
Excuse me.
400 metres means ten minutes walk from the theatre.
This is where the Russian sector ends. I'll wait here.
As you all know, these days Berlin is the front line
You'll be with me. We'll be together.
I can't speak French, or anything.
You'll learn. You have an ear, you have talent.
You're unique.
I don't want to live without you.
Alright then, let's do it.
What's the matter with you? There's a banquet.
The comrades want to meet you.
Let me fix my hair. I'll be down soon.
You look great by the way.
Get a move on.
Poland and German Democratic Republic are good friends.
We have to establish communist friendship.
We are brothers and sisters.
How's the food?
Made here, on the premises. Our specialty.
Thank you, it's truly excellent.
Fish fresh from the Baltic.
- Another one, please. - Sorry, sir. We have to close now.
You could go to "Chez Mariette", they stay open till one.
But between you and me,
if she hasn't turned up by now she never will.
How long are you in Paris?
We're leaving tomorrow morning.
How is life here?
I get by...
arranging and composing. I play at a club.
It's good.
Are you with someone?
Yes.
Me too.
So are you happy?
- I'll walk you to the hotel. - Better not, you know how it is.
For a bit.
No one will see us.
So can you tell me why you never came?
I felt it wouldn't work.
Not the actual escape...
But I wasn't up to it, wasn't good enough.
Not good enough?
Not as good as you...
and in general.
- You know what I mean. - I don't.
I know that love is love and that's that.
And I know one thing. I wouldn't have escaped without you.
That's far enough.
Have you been whoring?
I don't have money for whores.
I was with the woman of my life.
That's wonderful.
Let me go to sleep then.
Looks good, doesn't it?
Welcome.
- Do you have a ticket? - Yes.
I'd be very interested to hear your thoughts.
We've got quite a few new numbers, even one in Yugoslav.
A nod to our hosts.
Nice.
It's got more style now, more zing.
It's a pity you had to leave us. You had talent.
Would you like to sit in our VIP box?
Thank you, but I have a very good seat.
Well, well...
See you then.
Silken thread, Serbian cut
A tiny string, a fine thread
I am your, Milan, darling
My caresses from the Morava
An embroidered shirt
And I am promised to Milan
I'm sewing a silken thread from dreams
Where are you taking me?
To Moscow.
But I'm here legally. I have a visa.
I'm a resident in France. I'm not a Polish citizen anymore!
Yes, we know.
Relax, you're not going to Moscow
You going to Zagreb and then Paris or wherever.
The Poles wanted us to send you to Warsaw,
which wouldn't be good for you, right?
- Let me stay just one night. - The train is waiting.
It's about a woman, the love of my life.
So you wanna go back to Warsaw with her?
Femme fatale, eh?
They say Warsaw is the Paris of the East.
Mother forbade me...
From loving the lad...
The piano doesn't sound right here.
Let's drop it and use it for the actual murder.
The strings come in a bit early. Let's wait until the shadow appears.
Fine.
So you're married?
Yes.
I did it for us.
But it wasn't a church wedding, so it doesn't count.
- So what's your name now? - Gangarossa-Lichofi.
- Ganga... what? - Gangarossa, Sicilian name.
The main thing is you're not married.
- Or are you? - Come on...
I've been waiting for you.
Two hearts, four eyes...
Crying all day and all night...
Dark eyes, you cry
You cannot be together
It's too many "r's" in a row.
No.
And it doesn't fit the music.
It fits, when you pronounce it properly.
But what does it have to do with "Hearts"?
It's a free translation.
I wonder who translated it?
Don't tell me it was that poetess of yours.
Yes, so what?
Juliette did it as a favour, for free.
I should hope so.
Bit silly if you ask me.
"The Pendulum killed time."
Oh, my God.
What a critic! Juliette is a very well known poet.
- They just brought out her anthology. - I won't be singing that.
- Then there will be no record. - Then there won't be.
Be nice to Michel, he can be helpful.
We like each other and he'll like you even more.
- Why? - Because you're charming.
You've got "charme slave" as they say.
But go easy on the make up.
- Why? - You look good already.
Be yourself, relax.
- Tie or no tie? - Tie.
- Who are the guests? - Various interesting people.
- Your famous poetess as well? - Probably yes.
She's no threat.
She's already had two lovers since me.
And with Michel, just play it by ear.
Good evening.
- Wiktor! - This is Michel.
- How are you? - This is Michel and this is Zula.
I'm delighted to meet you.
I've heard a lot about you.
Thank you.
- How did the film go down? - Very good. We're pleased.
- Which is good news for you too. - I'm glad.
You converse away, I'll look around.
She's got something.
Good evening.
Excuse me. Good evening.
I thought a lot about your lyrics.
Really? What lyrics?
- To my song. - I see...
"The pendulum has killed time."
Nice, but I don't get it.
You don't? It's a metaphor.
To mean what?
That time doesn't matter when you're in love.
Do you like it here?
Paris? It's fine.
It must have been a shock.
A shock? Why?
Cinemas, cafes, restaurants, shops. As far as I know...
Between you and me my life was better in Poland.
So why did you run away?
I didn't run away.
I married an Italian and left legally.
Ever been to Palermo?
No.
That's a shame.
Nice meeting you.
Excuse me.
- What the fuck did you tell him? - What do you mean?
That I pretended to be a village girl...
That I ratted on you. That I killed my father.
That I danced for Stalin at the Kremlin.
- That was a nice touch. - Really, why?
- I wanted to give you more colour. - More colour?!
Yes, that's how it works here.
How?
I don't know.
Edith Piaf for instance worked in a brothel
and they love her all the more for it.
A brothel! What the hell are you doing to me?
And Giovanni wasn't a Duke, he traded in cut glass.
Christ, all right, I won't do it again. Shall we go home?
I met your lover.
Nice. A pretty back, but...
A bit on the old side. You look good together.
"Métaph0re..."
Idiot.
What a jerk.
Oh, well...
Don't you worry, Zula.
What will be will be.
I love him and that's that.
Zula, what's up?
What are you doing?
Come in here. I'm a bit sad.
Not now, love, we're off to "Eclipse."
Everyone's leaving.
Ok, give me a moment.
In Poland you were a man. You're different here.
Maybe I just imagined things.
But everything is wonderful. We are in Paris.
I love you with all my heart.
And don't worry about Michel, we get on like a house on fire.
I'll take care of everything.
Stop!
What?
That's blank.
Blank?
We have forty minutes left. Don't blow it, please.
Fine. I'll do it right. You'll get what you want.
Me?
Everything here is for you.
- Believe in yourself. - I do. It's you I don't believe in.
Shall we?
Let's go again.
Why so sad?
Look.
Our first child.
A bastard.
What's wrong?
Nothing really.
Everything is great.
The French know what they're doing.
And Michel is a real master. He fucked me six times in one night.
Not like a Polish artist in exile.
Now we're talking.
- What did you do to her? - I didn't do anything. She left.
For Poland.
Poland?
Is this Mazurek?
Mazurek, 'm Bmkaczéw.
0418.
Zuzanna Lichofi, please.
Lichor'1.
Zula.
She's just got back.
I see.
You don't know where she is?
Honestly, I don't know how to help you.
You're not French, and you're not a Pole either.
As far as we're concerned, you don't exist.
But between you and me...
Why on earth would you want to leave this place?
I'm Polish.
- Please, stop it. - I am.
You ran away. You betrayed us. You letdown young people who trusted you.
You don't love Poland.
- I do. - No, you don't.
But there is a solution.
If you truly regret your deeds.
You have a certain position in artistic circles here.
You know all kinds of emigres.
Good day.
You look terrible.
How many years?
Fifteen.
Apparently I'm lucky.
Illegal border crossing in both directions
and it turns out I spied for the British.
You've got ten minutes.
What have we done?
I'll wait for you.
Don't.
Find some normal guy. One who'll put up with you.
That sort hasn't been born yet.
I'll get you out of here.
It's nice of you to find time.
Don't be sad, Piotrué.
Come, introduce yourself.
That's Piotrué.
Hello.
He's shy.
Do we look alike?
A spitting image.
So? You're going back to music?
Not really.
I'm glad we were able to get you out of there. It wasn't easy.
But the deputy minister is our neighbor and a good friend.
Thank you. I'm really grateful.
I've listened to your Parisian record. It's really good.
Wonderful arrangements.
It would be good to record it again here. In Polish.
Zula could use that. And so could you.
Here comes Mummy.
Love you to bits, but I need to throw up.
Stay for the reception.
There will be many interesting people.
Come, it's all right.
Get me out of here.
That's why I'm here.
I mean for good.
Repeat after me.
I, Wiktor Warski, take you, Zuzanna Lichofi, to be my wife
And I swear to be with you always, until death do us part.
I, Zuzanna Lichofi, take you, Wiktor Warski, to be my husband.
And I swear to be with you always until death do us part.
So help us God.
More for you. You're heavier.
Now I'm yours.
For ever and ever.
Let's go to the other side.
The view will be better there.
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