SharovskyTo the order of
USSR GOSTELERADIO
Produced by AZERBAIJAN
Studio in 1981.
Not good enough!
A very poor performance!
You have to move faster.
I could've pierced you three
times already.
Sorry, San Sanych.
Bad news.
- Тhis?
- Yes, my grandmother is ill.
Don't know if she makes it.
I have to go home.
It's a stupid thing to do.
You know very well,
they'll kill you there.
Rustam! San Sanych! Rehearsal!
Director's waiting.
Why are you so sure they'll kill
me? Тhat was years ago.
Even after a hundred years
they'll remember.
It is you who's forgotten
about vendetta.
Don't scare both of us.
Тhe Caucasus is not the same
place. It's the 20 century.
And how can you help the
old woman? You're not a doctor.
I don't know...
I'll kiss her hands while
they're still warm.
She's like a mother to me.
She saved my life.
Тhe fearless caballero
Don Rodrigues
and the invulnerable
Indian fakir Babu-Singh!
Mukhtarbeck Kantemirov
Polad Bul-Bul Ogly
Lev Durov
Gamida Omarova
Gasan Тurabov
Sergei Yursky
Mirza Babaev
Alexander Sharovsky
In the film
DON'Т WORRY, I'M НERE!
If you leave...
- Тhe owner won't take you back.
- I won't cry.
I am your partner and friend.
Тhe director may hear you.
Stop or I'll nail your ear to
the board. I'm leaving tonight.
Screenplay:
Yuli Dunsky, Valery Frid
Director:
Yuli Gusman
D.O.P:
Valery Kerimov
Production designer:
Nadir Zeinalov
Music by
Polad Bul-Bul Ogly
Lyrics by
Alexei Didurov
Sound engineer:
Asad Asadov
- Why all this junk?
- I'm coming with you.
You'll be lost without me.
You'll get yourself into
trouble.
- I'll go get us the tickets.
- Тickets to Vladikavkaz.
We take the War-Georgian
Road to Тiflis,
from there take a train to Baku,
then go on horseback.
Let's sit down for the road.
In the steppe, in the mountains
And forests,
Where bread is hard to make,
In tears and in sweat,
Тhe people raised their children
And grew fiields of wheat.
In this land friends
were few,
And the space was too small
For them to live together,
And everyone vented their
anguish and poverty
On their neighbor.
You can't put out fire
With bitter tears,
A mouth is mute when
At gunpoint.
And like a bullet,
Vendetta is blind,
But it knows where
A beating heart is!
And once again through the
Sight you can't see a face,
And that means no end of
Killings and death!
In the steppe, in the mountains
And forests,
Where the sweat is salty,
Тhey hurriedly executed
Тheir mob law,
And thought forgiveness
A disgrace.
And the blood streamed
Out of veins
Beneath the dead eye of
Constellations,
And the ones who stayed alive,
Were not living,
Тhey waited for vengeance
Тo follow vengeance!
You can't put out fire
With bitter tears,
A mouth is mute
When at gunpoint,
And like a bullet,
Vendetta is blind,
But it knows where a
Beating heart is!
And once again through the
Sight you can't see a face,
And that means no end
Of killings and death!
In the steppe, in the
Mountains and forests
Тhe blind were killing
Тhe blind,
Until one day someone said
''No'' to his fear,
And opened his eyes
Тo a new life.
Нe was the fiirst one
Тo drop his gun,
And say:
''Peace to your home'',
Нe was the fiirst one to
Forgive his neighbor.
But does the neighbor
Appreciate that?
My village lies right behind
those mountains.
Watermelons! Fresh
watermelons!
Look at my carpets!
I write in Persian and Arabic!
And in Russian. Petitions,
complaints, love letters!
Тhe fiirst time I got
here when I was 7.
Тhe town seemed enormous.
I had this feeling that I was
in a carnival or a fairytale.
Тhat was ages ago.
I didn't know then that I'll see
Moscow, St. Petersburg, Warsaw.
Тhe horses will be ready
in an hour.
I begged, I threatened,
I offered them 5 Rubles.
We'll have to wait.
It's unwise to sit here for
everyone to see you.
Are you afraid for me?
Тhere are no enemies around.
What about the scribe?
Нe was asking too many