No one says that before, in Odessa, Everything was good.

You'll see for yourself, we had all sorts.

But there was.

The Odessa.

(Title: The Art Of Living In Odessa) (The script is written with the usage of motives found in Isaac Babel's "Odessa's Tales") Messires, our medium reached the state of.

Deep dream! What is your name?–Katya.

What year it is now? Right now is the year of 1910.

–How old are you? 19.

How old you were in 1895?– 4.

Four years old, four years, old, Katya.

Katusha, now you are four years.


I am your mother, yes, yes, I am your mother.

What do you desire? I want.

to kiss.

–Okay, sure, alright, mhm.

Good girl, Katusha.

Fine girl.

Take a sit.

Wake Up!–Bravo, bravo!– Here you go! Thank you, thank you!– (Katusha) What happened, what was I doing? Tell me.

Who also would like to try? Anyone who would like to try, messires? –This one here, "Apple", would like to.

–Who, me?–Oh, come on!–Go on, do it.


You like to dance.





It is.



You are the ballerina, you are the very good ballerina.

You hear, the crowd is waiting , the crowd is cheering for you, applause! Madame! Ballet music, please! Your entrance! You are feeling.


You are happy.

You're sailing in the boat.

Through the beautiful river.

You are surrounded with.

The most charming flowers.

You feel the smell of.

the lily of the valley.

You have a great.


You have the.

Joyful future.

You're happy.

You are.


You're happy.

It drives to tears, but it had to be.

Monsieur Eihbaum.

I hope you understood, If I won't have the money, you won't have the trade.

For your pleasing.

So how about it, monsieur Eihbaum? Adio!–.

It fell, it fell! Benya, look! I'm falling too!–A broad, a manunya! You'll killa me, idiyot! Oh, monsieur Eihbaum, is this your daughter? Don't touch her, Benya! Benya, don't touch her!.

Monsieur Eihbaum.

I owe you something.


We were tending her, like a flower.

–Oh, I'll tend her even better.

I swear, not even one thief will dare to walk this street now, monsieur Eihbaum.

Who are you? The queen.

Long live the king! I'll die.

The queen.

Eh, monsieur Borovoi, monsieur Borovoi.

Thank you.

–You're the son of sucha renowned dad, after all.

And your mama, your mama was the beauty, after all.

They say, the nephew of, what's his.

Of Brotskii himself was wooing her.

So I would say to you, forget thinking about Moldovanka (Odessa neighborhood).

–Much obliged.

–Moldovanka is not fitting your face, whatever writer you might be.

What do you care about the tales of these outskirts.

Just look, what our writers write about.

There are so many high things in life, the Love.

The beautiful feelings.

The holy dreamings.

Forget thinking about Moldovanka! And I would add, you won't find here not a kopeika (cent) for success, but you can easily earn the full pocket of troubles.

Isn't so, Hala? And what kinds? Don't know what kinds, who can guess what can thump into his head only even just Senya "Five Rubles".

"Five Rubles"?– And I'm not even speaking about such jackanapes like Monya "Artilleryman".

And all the others.

So no need to risk, monsieur Borovoi.

Quietly return to the house of your dad-o at Ekaterininskaya Street, I'm already regretting that I rented a room to you.

But how could I refuse such a pleasant young man, ha? Monsieur Borovoi, what are you here with your writing?! There's a car of Benya Krik outside!–Krik?! Good morning.

–Good morning.

–Are you the writer here?–(Guy with a book) The duchess sighed in sadness.

Oh, if only you felt as deeply as.

–This is my manuscript!–.

If only in your heart as brightly and aflame as in mine,.

flared up the love, and the tremulant moment of the desire.

–Oh, so you write the same!–No!–No, but I mean, as handsomely.

You will teach her, all these words.

And that life.

— Got it.

Do you hear us well? And.

Whom I'm suppose to be teaching? What, what is happening?.

— I thought I'll go mad.

She loves me, and stars continue to shine, and the earth.

— Messires, I can dress by myself, after all.

–She loves me!.

Don't stretch, don't stretch the time.

–Monya, are you going to buy? Hit me.

I'm tired of this.

–Play!–Don't even want to listen to your this.

–Come on, let's play!–I don't want, leave it.


(Speaks french, then translates) "The Virtue of Worthy Love".

I thought I'll go mad.

She lowered her head, her hand stayed in my embrace, her angelic voice whispered "Adolf, I love you too".

She loves me, and stars continue to shine, and the earth– rotating.

She loves me! My heart leaped, and its excited beating was defeaning me.

I wanted to roll in the dust, to scream and laugh.

Then I stood on my knees and hugged her, Oh, I was tightening my grip, my hands on her figure were like clutches.

She went pale, I thought she will faint, she whispered "Adolf, you're hurting me.

" I've caused pain? I?! To this meek angel?! Curses, to hurt her.

I quietly put her on the meadow, and leafed her with her own shawl.

I was saying mad words, words of tenderness.

She was smiling to me, she.

forgave me.

And then, while still being at her legs, I punished myself for my rudeness.

My fists.


On chest.

Of mine.

As if hammers on anvil.

Beware, you miserable, beware! To hurt her! I was rabid in rage, I was ready to kill myself with my own hands, she didn't want me to be so, but I didn't listen and the strikes were falling like a shower of hail.

Not a one monk was scouring themselves as cruely.

Then she threatened to leave, and I've stopped.

Go on.

–That's it.

–Then the next one.

(Speaking French) This.

This is.

An epigraph.

Lines from "Don Juan".

And what does it mean? Katya.

Would you understand.

When such a beautiful girl like you.

Oh, off with it.

Who's Don Juan?–It's the legendary man, that had myriads of amours.

Ha, got it, a blyador (Man-slut).

–Katya, what are you saying.

–Saying for what it is.

Katya, would you understand.

When such an exceptional girl, like you.

You think you've rented out a room and done a smart thing? And what you'll be having from it? Some pitiable ten rubles a month? Then you'll lose all your best clients.

Who would want to have problems because of your cupidity.

Empty the chamber pot.

And Lazar Buntsulman will fool you.

Hold the baby.

He'll steal your best clients and will laugh, they will all flop over to Buntsulman, I swear by Idochka's life.

You know! The prison is languishing for your Buntsulman! They only and wait, to grapple him! You better watch so they won't grapple you first.

–Me?! They won't give you even one percent, and from what then we will be living our old age? Buntsulman, Buntsulman.


To you comes Benya Krik, with a talk! ("Krik" also means " a scream", but here it's a surname, not a nickname) Take me to you.

–Who are you? And where are you coming from? What do you breath with, Benya? I want to anchor at your shores.

And that shore to which I'll anchor, we'll be in gain.

What do you breath with, Benya? Try me.

And let's stop smearing the white porridge over the clean table.

Alright, we'll stop smearing, the white porridge.

Someone knows what's happening under the hat of that Benchik?–Exactly.

Benya talks a little, but he talks greasy.

–He speaks So little, that you feel like you want him to say some more.

Since it feels like it, let's try him on Tartakovskii.

–Yes, yes let's try.

Hey, you remember? You remember, how it went last time you were at Tartakovskii's? Taste it, Froim.

–Yes? Or no? Yes.

Only, this is an unfair game, Froim.

Ukha (Fish soup) is ready.

Let's go! I drank for your health, Froim.

–Benchik will see the money of Tartakovskii, like he'll see his ears without a mirror.

From Odessa's kichman(prison), ran two urkans (prisoners), ran two urkans in the mor-ning.

Get up, Manya.

There's no truth in the ground.

Tartakovskii and Co.

(mpany) Well? Read.

Read it, Mugenstein.

Read! Most repsected Ruvim Iosifovich, be so.

Be so kind.

To lay, at Saturday, under the barrel with the rain water.

–Skip that!.

In case of your refusal, the way you've started allowing yourself lately, awaits for you.

Big disappointment in.

–In your family life.

–Yes, yes, most definitely.

–With reverence, from known to you, Benison Krik.

–Who?! Again! The new one! Levka "Bull", that's one!–Froim Grach (Rook).

–Froim Grach, that's two!–Levka again.

— Again Levka, that's three! Haim Drong.

–Haim Drong, that's four and five!–Grach.

–Grach yet again, that's six!–Levka "Bull".

Lev-yes, Levka, that's seven!–Haim Drong, be he cursed three times, that's eight and nine! And now.

— B-b-Benya-Benison.

— Benya-Benison.

That's ten.

"Ten" is already a piggery.

I'm fed to the teeth.

Fed to the teeth! Eating the piece of this bitter bread! I'm tired! I'm tired worrying through these unpleasantnesses! I was working through my whole life like a drayman, and what do you have after all this exigent hard labor?! Sores, ulcers and troubles!.

And the raiders.

There rides Benya with his company.

That ride is probably for Tartakovskii.

–Let's go look at Benya.


From ours to yours.

Takey you.

Dad-o, look who's there in the car! He's got such legs, I would choke those legs! Pan Grach, pan Grach.

Your dityatko (child) seem to be asking to be set free in the grass (Asking to get married).

If I, on our street, take care of matcmaking, that's only because I don't sit through nights, reading the prays over the well-off corpses.

Pan Grach.

I know for life all, that one can know for it.


I love wine, and I love a glass, I love beer.

–And everything I say, later turns out to be true.

Trust me, pan Grach.

It's time.

It's time to set her free in the grass.

Bah! Stress on my head!–What's there to do.

Open the doors, or the window, I love you, you sun of mine.

They're here!–Girls! And money to the boys! Enough with amusement.

Pick up your legs, and get to work.

Who was here?–Sava, calm yourself.

–Who was here?–Benya.

–Where is he?–He went away.

–Where to?–Girls, come with me! Savachka, let's go.

–Get off!.

The suit!–Look at him, you get lost!–Give me my suit!–Have one! Doorkeeper, get me the carriage! Monsieur Tartakovskii is available?–He's not here, come back tomorrow.

–And who here will be for Tartakovskii? M-me, I'm substituting the owner.

-Ah, so otchini (Open) the cashier for us, with godspeed.

I-I, I don't have keys from the safe.

–Where are the keys?!.

Hmm, listen to me.

Your owner recieved from me a business latter, so why wouldn't he sit in the tram for five kopeikas, and not come.

What do we have here? What are you doing, Benya.

–Why not arrive and drink with my family a glass of vodka.

And here there are.

So explain to me, as if to a friend.

Why wouldn't he pour out one's soul in front of me, say "Benya.


So and so, do you under.

" Hands.


Oh, hundred karbovanciv!(Hundred bucks)– ".

Here's my balance.

Give me time, give me a moment to raise my hands.

" ".

Let me fetch a sigh, and we'll find the ground to deal on!" And what would I have told him? I would have answered "Pig with a pig can't deal, but man with the man –Of course they can".

Benya, all done! I'm sorry, Benchik, I'm late! Makruha (Crime, involving murder).

Legs (Get out)!–Atas (Lets get out), guys!–.

But you're as good as dead, Savka!–Eh, Savka, you bas.

–Legs! What a fashion they took on themselves, to kill the living people.

I'm having to tell you, some words.

Monsieur Tartakovskii.

There goes the second day I'm crying after the dear deceased, as if after my own brother.

But you.

You spit on my young tears, just like you spit on my.

Sincere letters.


Monsieur Tartakovskii.

In what unflamable cupboard you've hidden your shame? You had a "heart".

To put on mother.

Of the livingly-dead Yusif.

A hundred of paltry karbovantsi? Oh god.

–Monsieur Tartakovskii.

My brain, together with my hair got racked on the ends, when I've heard this news.

Ten thousands.

At once.

And pension, until she dies.

And be she alive, until 120 years.

Be she so.

And if not? Mmm? And if not.

Then let us leave these premises.

And let us take a walk to my car.

Oh god, what are you talking about, "a car"? You're what? You're completely went off the marbles, or what?.

Easy! I'm not saying here "No".

But saying here "Yes" is not possible either.

Don't you know, that in this year, there is such a harvest in Argentina as if by Death herself, and we here, with our wheat, don't make any iniative out of it.

–Where is he, where? Murderer! How dare you come in this house!–Auntie Pesya.

–There's Yusya laying there, go see what you've done!!– Auntie Pesya! Bastard, what have you done?!–Auntie Pesya! Auntie Pesya, if you need my life, you may take it.

But everyone makes mistakes.

Even god, auntie Pesya.

Yes, came out the giant mistake, auntie Pesya.

Wasn't it mistake on the part of god to settle Jews in Russia, so they would suffer here, like in hell.

What would be bad, if they were living somewhere.

Let's say, Switzerland; where they would be surrounded by first-class mountains, mountain air and total Frenchs, eh? Actually, Swiss live there.

Everyone makes mistakes, even god.

Auntie Pesya, listen to me with ears.

You are having.

Five thousands, on hands.

And fifity rubles every month, and may you live for 120 years.

Funerals of our Yusif will be of first sort, Six! Horses! Like six lions! Two carriages filled with flowers.

Chorus from Brodska sinagogue.

And Minkovskii himself.

Will come.

To read the burial service, for your son.

And being the honest man.

We must admit, that never would had our Yusif such a lush requiem, if our Benison Krik didn't had such a good, outgoing heart!.

You're right, monsieur Tartakovskii.

Auntie Pesya, ladies and gentlemen.


–Messire Krik, I've got for you an interesting offer, oh sorry.

–Scat! I'm not here, I'm disapearing.

–After we pray for our poor Yusif, and over there, they'll finish diggin the hole.

I'll ask you all, Follow to the grave of unknown to you but already dead, Savelii Butsev, who became the reason for the death of our late Yusif, go on with reading your!.


When I look at her, I want to cry.

–Oh, please.

I need to Benya.

–Tsudechkis, speak here.

–I need to Benya!–Speak here! Hey, ey, you hear? Speak there! I'm respecting monsieur Monya, no difference for me whom to speak.

I'm respecting not only monsieur Monya, I'm respecting monsieur "Georgian", Tsudechkis respects everyone.

Since you're asking me, I must speak out my mind.

–When?–Best moment,– from Saturday to Sunday.

Guarding there no one else than policeman Motya Skolitkovskii.

— That's good.

You, of course, can try the week day, but why do it such way that the calm business will turn into soundy business.

Okay, monsieur Tsudechkis.

Benya will know for the raid.

Over here, "monsieur".

Benya, there's Tsudechkis there.

Should I let him in?–No.

Go find out what he wants.

— I did.

He says, at Saturday evening, in the warehouses at Constantinida.


And duelants were meeting at the blossoming meadows, to fall in a moment amongst the adorous flowers.

And who will be guarding?–Motya Zgalatkovskii.


Go to monsieur Tsudechkis behind the bugor (hill), and tell him that "Benya knows for the Saturday".


And most likey will visit the adress.

" Take my words and walk.

–I'm already not here.

I've been told that you have some interest in Moldovanka.


Well then you can come and see our work, in process.

When? You'll be noticed.


Are you digesting well.

The French life? "Most likely.

", "Most likely will come by" or most likely will not come by.

How many years you're thumping the earth like the last idiyot.

I'm coming!.

All your earnings laying.

What do you want?–Can I borrow an onion?–Here.

Here, here, go already.

–I'll give back tomorrow.

It's understandable Benya won't be taking such an affair.

Like he will dirt himself because of some dry goods.

Lazar Buntsulman; won't be an hour he'll learn everything and will run to Froim.

And Froim Grach is bold hot to the edge.

They won't tell you neither "no" nor "yes".

–Give me my sleeve.

You'll earn on this matter "fig with a poppy" (Nothing).

–What should I be doing, these raiders gonna drive me crazy!–Go to Grach! Maybe he'll flatter himself with your "linden" manufactory (dry goods).

So at least you wont' stay in idiots.

–Agh, okay.


–Bah, what would he be doing without me? Where's my water?.

(I'm sorry, I'm just tired of translating this romantic guy and his "verses") Hold this.


And he was kissing her passionately until she fainted.

And nearby fell down her decieved lover.

You! Lay down! What the.

–And here appeared her fooled husband.

–Monsieur Borovoi.

Make the hand to the uncle.

–Yes, wave, wave.

Take for explanation ten words.

For each extra word I'll cut a hundred from your cut.

Well, speak already, tell, before my patience boils out.


You'll get your proCent, without any cutouts.

Hlopci(Guys), I am having something to tell you.

Don't hurry so, Buntsulman.

You're hurrying for nothing, and sweating for nothing.

As Germans say, "I am the one, eating here".

Laydak (Jerk).

Dad-o! Every girl, has her own interest in life.

And only I, am living like a night watch in someone elses warehouse.

Either do something with me, dad-o.

Or I'll make the end, of my life.

Why are you silent, dad, what are you thinking about? 'Bout drinking a glass of vodka? 'Bout giving someone in the snout? 'Bout daughter you aren't thinking! Be quiet!–Why are You quiet, dad-o?! And "shnifti"?–"Shnifti" means "eyes".

— And how would you say "to steal"? "Kurapchit", and also you can say "Otnikat".

Heh, interesting.

And "Love"?–Love is the same, "Lu-bov".

Monsieur Borovoi, why are you baking yourself? Take of the tie, the shirt.

Monsieur Borovoi, I hope we aren't intruding? Don't worry yourself, your highness, we don't kantuemsya(hang out) for nothing.

Truly, bez ponta (Without bullshit).

Monsieur Borovoi, you've asked when It will happen.

–I did.

-It will happen today.

Motya!–I'm here.

So what, Froim? Should it fall now?–Don't hurry the horses.

When I'll shoot, Motya, then let the pillar (g)'o down.

–Aha, okay.

–Froim! Is the warehouse unbarred?–Let's go.

Froim, Tsudechkis didn't lie, plenty of manufacture.

Your honor (policeman), what are you doing here?–Hold this.

Watch after him.

–What a bastard.

Stay down! As if this needed for me.

Second floor, on the right corner, in the boxie.

These baggies here, all of them.

Oh god, what will be here now.

There are some people in the warehouse, and the policeman.

Where here are the British goods, where is it.

Aha, over there, in the corner.

Froim, ran! Platoon, split around! Grach, get down! Here, take this! And lay there!– What in the name of the lord.

I am Pakovskii! Oh, sorry, monsieur Borovoi, in this dark.

Stop, you sod! So how do you like the raid, monsieur Writer? Help me, mommy! Eh, "Apple"! (Play on the name of Anarchist song and nickname of this heavy guy) Give me the ride! –I will! So here we are.

Benya wants to kill me.

That is quite interesting.


How is this so?.

In Odessa.

They'll say in Odessa "The King was groping someone else's piece" Ai, ai ai.

—Will say.

Certainly will say.

Someone else's piece of trade! They'll say in Odessa "The King was groping someone else's piece of trade"!—Whoever will say that, they'll say that only once.

No one will say that twice.

Do you believe me, Froim? In what should I believe you, King?–Do you believe me that I have nothing to do with this, that there's no my guilt here.

Benya, I believe you.

Let there be no happiness for me, how could one not believe you? If only I lived like That, Froim.

How from Deribasovskya Street right to Rishelievskaya, in eight o'clock of the evening, spread the News: From the granma-granny, granny-granma, four robbers robbed her of her chastity.

Hots-tots-perverdotz, granma is in good health, hotz-tots-perverdots, eating the compot (thick drink made out of fruits).

hotz-tots-perverdots, and she's dreaming, hots-totz-perverdots, to experience the raid.

As heard the granpa, for about granma's thingies, couldn't handle granpa the granma's shame, He grabs the granma by her whitey hands, And throws her from the sixth floor right into the yard.

hots-tots-perverdots, granma is all healthy.

Froim, tell me, who pointed you on this place? Tsudechkis.


–And to you, who pointed at this place? -Tsudechkis.

Is he really gonna stay alive, on us? Never.

Hots-tots-perverdots–granma is all healthy, hots-pots-perverdots, eating the kompot.

hots tots, perverdots, and she's dreaming again, hots-tots-perverdots, to experience the flight.

What a beauty, missires-raiders! Such a morning needed for that Tsudechkis stopped being the living? Skunk.

Let's move it.

Come over here.

–What is.

the meaning?.

Monsieur Krik! For what are you upsetting my Tsudechkis? For what, for throwing a bad shadow over my name.

For disgracing me in front of my friends.

You can now say your final goodbyes to the body, madame Tsudechkis.

My honor is more valuable for me than mye happiness, madame Tsudechkis.

He must not stay alive.

–Don't! Don't you dare! Don't! Don't dare to hit my Tsudechkis! For what are you upsetting him? For his desire to feed his six hungry birdies (kids)? What does one unfortunate job means to you, Benchik, if on the other week there are seven fortunes waiting for you?.

Don't you dare beating my Tsudechkis! Don't you dare beating him!.

He must'nt stay alive.

Stop yourself, stop!.

–Lydochka, I'm scared.

–Benya! Good morning, monsieur Boorovoi.

Why should I be teaching manners to your Katya, when you yourself don't have any! But I.

My poor Tsudechkis.

This is for you, for recovery.

Pardon me.

What exactly happened?–Nothing special, monsieur Borovoi.

Only jewish happiness.

–And coffin is, what for?–What coffin?! There's a coffin, standing there in the corridor.


Coffin?! What for?! Coff.

Take it aawwayyy!.

Buntsulman! Bring it to Buntsulman! Where's my water, have you seen my water?–Here's your water, Benya will come by and there'll be standing four coffins; filled.

It's stuffy, open the window.

I wanted to warn you.


From now on.

Our literature salon.

Is closed.

There'll be no more lessons.

But why?.

Why have just only begun.


I thought, with time, we can touch the real art.


Is Heine (German poet).

Most likely.

It won't ever happen.

Besides the art, there's the life.

And also.

I would like to inform you.

That you.

Are invited.

to the wedding.


I congratulate you.




What are they doing there?.

Where you running at, my fishes, you're too young to go in here, no entry.

Eat, my dear guests, and drink up.

Here we are.

Who's that?–The bride.

Did you see this guy?–She's the bride? Definitely not me, no? I'm.

I'm congratulating you, from the bottom of my soul!.

You have no idea how happy I am! I'm congr.

Bitter! Bitter! Bitter! (Kiss! Kiss!) I wouldn't advice you.

I had no idea.

I thought you are the one who's marrying him.

I'm so glad.

What are you so glad about? –I'm sorry.

— It's nothing.

Love and marriage, are two different things.

How I'm happy for you.

But I must tell you, that Benya, is One.

But Froim Grach, is the Other.

And Benya And Froim, is the whole Another.

Misses and Messires.

Dear raiders.

And also representatives of Odessa's cartload! Through my face, The Business of Odessa, is hailing our dear king, Benya! And wishes happiness and wellness, to his, charming like a brench of acacia, bride.

And this.

Is a little.


And this is for you, my dear guests!–Bravo, King! Bravo! Rotschild before him is almost-almost a pots (sucker).

To mey, to mey! Thank you, King! The whole world is smityo (trash), and all people are aferists (Swindlers).

And me, mey, king!.

Thank you, King!.

King, I am having to tell you a pair of words, I was ordered by auntie Hanna from Kostetskaya Street.


What is.

That pair of words? He always has a pair of words in his pocket.

And always not on time.

Yeterday, to the police station, arrived a new chief.

This is what ordered to say auntie Hanna.

I knew about that a day before yesterday.

Go on.

He gathered the whole stationg, and told a speech to the station.

–The new broom always brooms clean, he wants oblava (police raid), go on.

And when he gonna oblava on you, you know that?–Oblava will be tomorrow.

King, oblava will be today.

They want to ruin mey celebration.

Who told you that, Arie? This boy?–It was said by auntie Hanna from Kostetskaya Street, you know auntie Hanna? I know auntie Hanna, go on.

— Chief gave the speech, "We must strangle Benya Krik.

Because where there is the power of his majesty the Emperor, there can't be the king.

And today, when he's having a wedding and they all will be there, today we must do the oblava.

–Go on.

Going on.

Then the shpiks (cops) started being afraid.

They've said, if today we'll do oblava when he's celebrating, Benya will get mad and there'll be lots of blood.

–They've said right.

Then he said "My self-esteem is more important to mey.

" Well.

Go then.

Aaand what should I say to auntie Hanna for oblava? Tell her "Benya knows, for oblava".

(He mumbles something about flowers)–You're not a groom and I'm not a bride.

Tame your flames, duke, or you'll get your legs broken.

After all, Benya is King.

And I'm the queen, and that woman besides him is just a wife! Bitter! (Kiss!) Froim, I feel like, in our pipe, burns the soot.


I'm tired of your feel-likes.

Drink and eat on that, like before.

And let you be not worried by these sillinesses.

Drink and eat on it, like before! This is funny, but the police station is flaming like a candle, imagine that! And it feels to me, that it is burning though, certainly yes, not a scoot.

Arie-Leib, smell, what my hands smell like.

–Kerosene?! Manya! Be quiet.

We'll meet you at the fire.

It feels to me it wasn't put aflame by itself, it feels to me it was put aflame by someone, am I right?–What are you saying, what are you blubbering, Hava, let's go home, the children are waiting for us! Hey, missire chief! Good health to you, your high honor.

So what would you say on this misfortune? It's a formal mess!–You don't worry about it, Benya.

Benya's right for certainly, this is a typical mess! It is always like this, no smoke without fire.

–If I lived like That, Froim!–.

Lord sees me right.



Already's burning the police station, soon, everything here will burn.

This is me who is telling you this,–Tartakovskii.

You gonna laugh, but monsieur Tarktakovskii has with certainly turn out to be right.

Many things burned in year of 1917.

Monsieur Tartokavskii disappeared himself too.

And I would tell you, 1918 and 1919 didn't add much order either.

And now then, here came the 1920.

"Discussions with Youth, About Gender Questions".

What are you allowing yourself, citizen? Very relevent.

For everyone.

For strengthen of coscience.

–What are you allowing yourself?! Oh, excuse me, I don't have a tie.

We've worked every one! And who we didn' worked, we've killed, heheh.

What's this about? Here, have a smoke, kasatik (dearie).

Manya, are you totaly this, ha? Better just play.

Sing a song for Manya, Haim.

–It's already here, Manunya.

There was ringing on the door, very long one, and on the doorstep, there stood cop with flowers.

And it means that Sonya's having amanini (Name Day), and even cop is sending her a gift.

Odessa-mama got turned around.

–Dance! Dance!–Oh Sonya, Sonya, get feathers ready, make with hands a clean bed, today you're celebrating amanini, and my time came, to sleep with you.

Apple, go bitter! Bitter! (Kiss! Kiss!) Guys, run, Cheka is here! (The first rendition of Soviet police) Don't shoot, don't shoot! Give the way! Come on, get out, or you'll get killed! Stop, Apple!–You won't have a bite! The apple is done.

Is there anyone there?–Who are you?!–Where's the toilet here? What are ya doing here?!–And ya?–We are chasing Monya "Artelliryman" (That guy who stands in front of him).

— And where's the toilet here? Go, it's downstairs there.

Hey, do you know Monya "Artilleryman", by chance?–Nah, I'm just looking for toilet.

–Go, go! Or you'll get under the bullet, and then we'll have to answer for you!–Oh, oh, I can't!.

–Walking and walking all sorts here.

Here it is, first house of Sobes (Social security department).

Comrades, dear comrades, you must.

–There!–How did you guessed he'll be here?–Just guessed.

–I haven't done anything! I'm for the Soviet government!–Well then, Poplovskii.

Go check why she's like that.

Well? Start remembering.

Benya Krik.

–What Benya Krik?–Froim Grach.

What Froim Grach?–What Monya Artilleryman, I don't know anyone!–Start recollecting, Pukovskii (farty).

Or what do they call you.


–I'm a cripple, I don't know anything! What happened here?–They don't want to take the injections! Tell them something, please!–I'm advicing to you, Pakovskii, as friend and comrade.

Start recollecting!–Let me inject you, please! It's not painful at all! Allow me please, I'll inject you.

–I don't have anything to inject me in.

–It's in the soft place, it's not painful.

I don't have soft places, I don't have where to inject in me.

You see? I won't be able to vaccinate them neither against typhus, nor smallpox.

They'll expell me from Komsomol (All-Union Leninst Young Communist League).

Tell them something to convince them, just something! The whole world is smityo (trash), and all people are aferists (Con men).

The benefit of smallpox vaccination is undeniable.

–Where Are Benya's Raiders Right Now?–What raiders? What Benya? What Krik? I'm scared of whisper, not to mention of screams (Krik), I'm making my own business, I'm creating my own business by my own hands.

Before I was making doors, now I'm making door's peepholes.

But if Soviet authority doesn't find it pleasant, if the Soviet authority is against it, you just tell me so "We aren't pleased, we're against.

" and I'll stop.

May people don't know who stands behind the door, who's knocking, who's there.

But neither Benya, nor any raiders, I don't know any.

And haven't seen any.

–Speak!–I was meeting in his carpentry, What?.

–With Benya Krik, with Froim Grach, with Monya Artilleryman.

-What's he sayin'?! What have you been doing to this man?!.

With Froim Grach, with Levka Artilleryman, with Monya "Katsap"( Slur for Russian), that's all.

Look at this, he's confused everything, this man is under hypnosis, he's crazy! He's.

He's not even looking in the eyes! He's.

He's speaking the impossible things! I'm starting to be afraid for the whole Odessa!–Listen, Grisha Pakovskii, you can talk or not, but I'll learn it from someone anyway, from you, or someone else! Take him to me!–I.

I don't want there.

I'm Grisha Pakovskii.

–(Background) What, are they shooting?– I'm Grisha Pakovskii, the cripple, I'm begging you! Comrades, what are you doing.

I want to live! And if this, a life? It's nothing but shooting.

I'l tell you so.

–And I'll tell you even beter, they won't even shoot at us, why? Just vaccinate smallpox into us and try remembering our names.

Lunch time!–Or the weakened Jewish body can get through such disease? But, since they ordered there's a benefit in vaccination of smallpox.

–Lunch time! So now we'll never die from smallpox.

–From smallpox.

–And if there was only smallpox in the world, we would live forever.

–Lunch time! Come here, lunch time! Before people would die in different times, from different diseases.

And We.

will all die simultaneously.

–Please, wait! What kind of people they are, oh dear lord!.

Arie! You know everything, so tell me.

Where's Katya? It's very important, for Me.

Okay, how about you'll tell me where's the king now?– I will be telling you, how God was telling on Mount Sinai, From the flaming bush.

But first I'll ask you, do you know who was the first one, to say the word "king"? It was I, who said "the king".

–And "Where's Katya? Where's the king?", I truly don't know.

I'll tell you even more.

I don't even know, where am I.

Ai, ai, ai, monsieur Borovoi, monsieur Borovoi, who would have thought, eh? How you grew, how more serious you've become.

And I'm already, you know, growing In the ground.

But who would have thought that you, now, is such a "big" man.

Thank god, I don't need to be afraid of you now, please, come in.

I'm for a long time not in the biz.

For a very, very long time, from That day.

Or you don't remember how you were participating in the raid, the robbery?–I do.

You can't forget such thing.

For me it was a creative failure.

How are you feeling?–Oh, monsieur Borovoi.

Would you like to take a memory walk through your flat? How am I feeling.

There's no sugar in the country, and I've got sugar in the blood, and in the piss.

How do I feel myself, eh, like everyone is feeling themselves.

Do you see, monsieur Borovoi, oh, excuse me, "comrade Borovoi", We've used almost everything to heat up the apartment, and if summer won't come, and we live in such a time that it might just not, I don't know with what we'll be heating up anymore, I'll bring you something to eat.

–Thank you, I'm full.

–Ah, leave that.

I know how "full" you all are.

Tsudekchis, do you know, where Katya is? Katya-Katerina, I remember, I do remember well.

But don't know anything well.

In Odessa, you can live close and never meet.

Or you can not know each other, and meet everyday.

Can you give me something to eat too? Thank you.

I don't think you're searching for Katya, I'm thinking, you're searching for Benya.

Don't search for him, monsieur Borovoi, he has enough of those who are searching for him without you.

But they won't find him.


This is Me who is telling you this.

I don't care about your Benya.

Do you know at least roughly, where she could live? The skill of living, is a huge work.

And the skill of living in Odesa is the high art, you must have a talent for that.

Nowdays, everything is, somehow different, you know.

Nowdays, you need more, not talent, but mandate.

And I don't have a mandate.

Many don't have a mandate right now.

Tell me, maybe you can make a mandate for me, by chance? And where's Katya, I really don't know.

Now people will be searching each other, for a long time.

And many won't be found anymore.

At least someone knows about her, at least something? Listen, do you remember for the raid? So why are you asking me this? Ask those who were near you, ha? Why are you always so silent.

I want to know, where's Benya.


Help me, and I'll help you.

Tell me, where's Katya, it's very important to me.

I love her.

All of this would be good, if you were doing this for our Idea, not for finding your dam.

Revolutionary and a slut.

–Siman! I would ask you not!.

–Okay, okay, we'll find everyone, everyone.

We'll find everyone: Benya, your slut.

–Why you have to be so.

–Why these people are sitting here, who are they waiting for? Chubarav! Handle the people.

Ali! Come on, escort everyone out.

You, you my sweetness.

— Why did you stop? Where are you going, Senya? Where are you to, Senichka? What's with you, Senya? Why are you silent? Are you upset with me somehow? Where are you going, where, where to? Be quiet, stupid.

Don't shoot! Get out of the way, you are surrounded, stop! You've got someone? Ha, there's the good lads!.


I'll be going.

What?! WHAT?! Those are the enemies! Buntsulman was taken, with certainly.

Eh, Buntsulman, Buntsulman, I was telling him "Don't connect with Cheka".

You forgive me, Sasha, but it's hard to friend a Chekist, especially for pointers, even if they are the informers.

Yee, you know, there are angry from sleepless nights, I'm telling you this as to a friend from my youth.

Tell me, why you, can't sleep at nights, unlike raiders? I've tired you with my blubbering, that's it, I'm going mute like a fish.

What ya asking?–And what is there?–Aaa, let it lay, maybe it'll be of use.

Stop! Siman, he's here! Guys, look! Stop, "Katsap", I've recognized you!–They took Katsap too.

Citizens, step away, everyone! Free the road! Where ya?! Here's the car, get into it!–Siman! There's a man in here, I need to have a talk with him.

Who are you looking for all the time?!–Froim! Froim! Believe me, you can be on good terms with us, why all these unneeded victims? You tell to whom you know, I'll tell to those I know, and everything will become peaceful.

I am to You, I'm sorry, don't believe.

–But why? But the whole population believes to us, everyone who has nothing to lose.

You are just like us, Froim! In our cellars, the wine is also red, but not thin and salty.

But we are cleaning up the world!.

Old fool!–Who you calling old.

Hava, let's go, children are waiting for us.

Drive!–Bye, fellas!–Drive, you hear!.

Jump! Those tarts have circled us.

Drive faster!–Gosha! Gosha! Goodbye, Georgian.

Forgive me! Stop, Benya, stop! All useless, he escaped again.

Detour, detour! I know pass-through the yards here, we'll be on time, faster! Don't let him get away! Got him! There's no one there, and you left me there alone.

Oh, you've killed someone?–He managed to get away.

Good job!–Where do they all, as if through earth, fall? Back into the car.

Oh, I, this one.

–This one is nobody, this one is a wasted kill.


I've seen him yesterday! Manya, thank god you're in the hata (safehouse).

Hide me, Cheka is after me! Stay calm, I'll hide so not a one bitch will be able to find.

Lets go.

Farewell, Manya.

Let me kiss you.


Beware! Beware!–Oh, look, that's Monya! I'm gonna die from laughter!–Monya, what's with you?.

–Froim, I'm looking for the king.

You're not the only one who's searching for King.

–Kolya Shtift is no longer searching for King.

Osya "Georgian" is no longer looking for King either.

They were found themselves, yesterday.

Froim, I'm telling you, these people don't have the word, don't have the humanity, they are squishing us in cellars like the dogs in holes.

They don't let us say even a word before death, do you hear, Froim? You hear me? They must be teared apart, these people, and their heart must be taken out.

You're silent, Froim, you stand silent.


Guys are waiting that you'll stop being silent.

Do you hear, Froim?! Fifteen man, maybe more.

So then, one, and then two, three, four, five.

(Ads on the column for : "Is there a life on mars?", "Farewell concert of Mata Rubini", etc) A.

A what's up in here?–Hypnosis (Ad for Hypnotist's peformance).

(In the MopRisoda club, today and for the whole week, for the red army, workers and peasants, scientifc performances in infusion of thoughts,) (Through methods od dialectic materialism.

Performed by professor Lobimov) Hypnosis? Oh I've seen hypnosis one, that one was one hypnosis! Fella, fella enters, this kind of big, with a black beard.

And on all the people he goes: Woof! And that's it.

That's it, everyone is gone.

Your hands are getting heavy; your thoughts too, and your fingers.

You're feeling a plesant heaviness in your stomaches.

You're full.

You're full to the throat.

You're satisfied.

And happy you are, you are grateful.

The brighter future is coming.

You can see it.

You are immersing into it.

You are in it.

You are in It.

Here it is, the beautiful, The pure, the bright.



Well then, goodbye.

Shh, shh.

–Everything will be fine, dad-o, don't worry.

And you are, a poppycock on fasting oil.


And this one, for me.

Now it's for you to wear kipa, Jelob Krik.

Where they all are? Oh, Froim, you're here.

And I'm looking for you everywhere.

–I have come, writer.

What writer is there from me now.

It's great that you've came.

Alright, so.

–Whom are smashing? You're smashing the eagles.

With whom you'll be left? With the trash.

Froim, it's not to me with this stuff.

— Let my boys go, tell me your price.

–Froim, I'm not the one to talk with about this, it's with Siman, he'll be here in a moment.

Stand here and don't go anywhere, okay? Just don't go anywhere, stay here.

Load it.

–For what, for what? What for, boys, I haven't killed anyone.


Do you need me?–Sit there.

–Ah, good, I'll have something to eat at least today.

Siman, there's a thing.

–An important one?–Important.

Let's go then.

You won't believe such fortune.

So what is it there?– He came himself.

By himself! I've convinced him.

–Who did? It's the grand old man, the talent, it's the soul of Odessa; talk with him, and you'll understand who the Odessians are.

–Where is he? In the big hall, upstairs.

–Lee!–Here! Convoy, to the big hall, take the guy, fast.

–Ohkay, my go.

It's great, it's real great you've brought this bandit here, you did fine.

Siman, there's no need!–There is! We must work hard, we have much work ahead of us! And this.

All this will pass, and lay forgotten, like a childhood.

Well, now it's all.

Goodbye, Odessa.

As for your "questioning", you better think.

You either with us or.

And those aren't with us, who's in the tail, who's confused, those are the enemies of the Revolution! And enemy, is that a human? Or not? Or what? Are enemies not people too? Answer me, as Chekist, as revolutionary.

What for is needed this man, in the future society? I don't know.

I guess he isn't.

To the opera house.

We met at the fire.

–It can't be.

Who's that?–Katya-Katerina.

(Hail to the participants of the rally!) Forgive me, lord.

But how it burns.

In this city, there's never any water.

What's with you? What's with the sour face, King? It's burning, like on your wedding! Look! Holy god, give us strength, Keep us safe and save, From the words and the word, From the snake tongue and the trickster And the wise.

And don't call on help, Not in sickness, not in love Who's pain here and who's guilt, but the cup of bitter wine Drink until the bottom.

And on lies, and on deception don't waste your soul, in grieve Believe – The fog will fade , believe, God will save you Holy God, oh keep us safe, From the despot and the judge, From accusers and their whip, From the rope and from the yoke, Shoot.

(And from the rod,) Shoot! (And on lies, and on deception,) Shoot! Shoot! Don't waste your soul, in woe Believe – The fog will fade , Believe, God will save you Holy God, give us strength, And keep us safe and save From the idols and the slaves, From the prophets and the coffins And give us shelter.

Source: Youtube