"Seek the truth
not in the mundane details of daily life,
but in the essence of life itself."
B. Tosia
"Members of the jury..."
"... for three days..."
"... you have listened carefully to..."
"... gravity of the crime..."
"... the defendant receive"
"the maximum..."
"... prosecution's request that"
"the defendant..."
"You are aware of the..."
"Members of the jury..."
"... stand the gravity..."
"... to the testimony..."
"If you agree with the prosecution..."
"... you must return a"
"verdict of "guilty"..."
"... or not..."
"For 1000 years..."
"... the Russian people gave"
"so much so that..."
"... on these broad expanses"
"different nations were..."
"... united under the banner"
"of this federation..."
"... find reasonable doubt..."
"... criminal code..."
"... must return a verdict..."
"... now deliberate in private..."
"... not limited by time..."
"You are aware of the"
"prosecution's request..."
"... that the defendant receive"
"the maximum penalty allowed..."
"... deliberate and decide..."
"... if the defendant is guilty or not"
"... that the defendant receive"
"the maximum..."
"... penalty allowed by law..."
"... that your decision must be unanimous..."
"... unanimous"
"I do not have words to describe"
"my state of mind..."
"... in these moments..."
"... maximum penalty allowed..."
"... details of the case..."
"If you find reasonable doubt..."
"... the defendant receive"
"the maximum penalty..."
"... you must return"
"a verdict of "not guilty"..."
"I remind you that"
"your decision must be..."
"... you must return a verdict of "guilty"
"... maximum penalty..."
"... where you must decide..."
"... case-related materials..."
"... I repeat: The jury may request..."
"If you find reasonable doubt..."
PEACE, LABOR, HAPPINESS!.
GLORY TO
THE PEOPLE'S RADIANT FUTURE
Mama!
Speak Russian!
Speak Russian, Mama!
Speak Russian, Mama!
Speak Russian, Mama!
Court is adjourned until
the jury reaches a verdict.
All rise please.
Hello?
Hungry, dad?
So far everything's fine. Yes.
Those photographs
I showed the judge, can I take them?
I don't know.
- Do I have to stay here?
- Yes.
- But I told them everything.
- That's how it works.
- OK, gentlemen...
- That's crazy.
Please follow me.
Hurry, please, it's almost recess.
- What recess?
- You'll see.
Please keep up. Follow me.
This way, please. Let's go.
As you see, the work's not finished.
The jury room's not ready, either.
This way...
Remodeling makes it hard to work.
No matter, your case is simple.
You'll be done in 20 minutes.
Now we're in the adjoining school building,
they lend us space.
A school by a courthouse
causes problems.
Imagine the spring, the windows open...
...a ball flies in and hits a witness
on the head
An elderly woman, out cold.
During the school vacation
it was fine...
...we used the classrooms...
Oops, we're too late.
Children! Children!
Oh, Lord. Children.
Children!
Children, please.
Now we turn left.
This way, everyone this way.
Some working conditions!
But it's just temporary.
They'll finish and it'll be
pretty as a picture.
One silly formality.
You'll have to give me your phones,
I'm afraid.
I'll keep my SIM, it's important.
Hello, Vasia.
My phone'll be off for 90 minutes.
Tell the boss it's my civic duty.
I'll be right here.
If you need me for any reason...
...there's a communication system.
Here it is.
This is my little "know-how".
That means "invention".
I took it from my son's
model train set.
It really works.
Watch, everyone.
Push the button.
That's awful.
You keep this.
And if you need me,
for the slightest reason, call me...
and I'll bring
whatever you require or desire.
Here's where you'll be meeting.
All the amenities. Go ahead.
Go ahead.
Hands...
- They put us in a gym?
- The jury room's not ready.
Anyone know how long it takes
to get to Kursk station?
In weather like this.
At least an hour and a half.
Maybe a little longer.
You're kidding.
Come on, take a shot.
- With this thing?
- Come on.
- Go Spartak.
- Here it comes!
- What was that?
- You told me to.
That's a medicine ball.
That's an antique.
- You mean the lamp?
- Yeah.
We had exactly the same kind
in my school.
- Kids use these?
- Sure.
Do you know where the bathroom is?
They're locking us in?
They have to, those are the rules.
Seen that?
Why is it in there?
- Maybe so the kids don't hurt it.
- Or vice versa.
Or vice versa, so they
don't hurt themselves on it.
It could fall.
A courthouse isn't...
the best thing to have
next to a school.
It won't fall.
Even the piano's behind bars
and on the rack.
The bathroom.
Smart, no?
Why don't you have some?
Help yourself, it's for all of us.
- What is it, cheese?
- And tea with lemon.
Thanks. Thanks anyway.
I have a business lunch
at Cafe Pushkin.
Don't want to spoil my appetite.
And this won't take very long, right?
I doubt it. It's not that kind of case.
I agree.
We have
a different kind of case.
That's an antique. How quaint.
I had it stashed away.
I forgot and didn't
exchange it in time.
I was so angry...
Comrades... I mean...
...gentlemen. Let's start.
Yes, comrades, I mean, gentlemen,
why don't we start?
I don't have much time.
You in a hurry?
And how: My train's in an hour.
I'm going on tour.
This'll take an hour, max.
The bathroom...
This one's for the kids.
VIPs go over there.
Can anyone tell me...
...what rhymes with "Julie"?
- Julie - cruelly.
- Cruelly? That's no good.
- It's a beautiful girl named Julie.
- Julie?
Here you go...
Duly.
Newly. Unruly.
O'Dooley. Fazooli. Babooli.
Coolly...
Woolly.
Truly.
- Patchouli.
- Patchouli?
Patchouli. Truly.
Mamooli. Pap...
Oh, God...
- Is today the 12th?
- Yeah.
- Where's the TV? Over here?
- Right there.
They're interviewing my mother.
Is she a politician? An actress?
- It doesn't work?
- No.
What is this? That's it.
It doesn't work.
Our family has a TV company.
LTV. Have you heard of it?
My mother's the president.
I'm the managing director.
I help Mom.
So you're an assistant producer.
Must be a weak stomach...
- Have you ever seen anything like this?
- Sorry.
Ever seen one like this?
And she's still just a schoolgirl.
They must be well fed.
I only saw ones this big
once in my life.
- On a schoolgirl?
- What? Heavens, no.
My mother-in-law's were about this size.
We buried her three months ago.
Oh, jeez!
"Schoolmates!"
"Boys and girls!"
- Look what I found.
- Oh, wow.
"We sing the same songs"
"We read the same books"
- Let me see. God.
- Advanced classes!
Forgive me.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I lost my brother because
of that junk.
He was 36!
Oh, mama!
How much misfortune...
I have seen from this junk.
I'm sorry.
Gentlemen of the jury...
Let's get this show on the road.
Who's leading this parade?
- Yes, let's start.
- Let's go.
Actually, we do have to...
...choose a chairman for our meeting,
I mean for our jury.
You seem to have some experience.
You should be our foreman...
The phone only connects
to the boiler room.
If nobody objects...
I'd be glad to.
So, no need to vote on it, then?
As you know, our decision
must be, and will be, final.
And not subject to appeal.
And so... Attention, please.
And so...
...our vote has got to be unanimous.
We know all that.
Let's just do it fast.
Make a unanimous decision...
and leave. I'm going on tour.
We can each make comments one by one.
Then we'll vote.
- No, let's vote.
- It's obvious.
- Let's vote now.
- No comments.
- Then nobody objects if...
- No, no.
So, we can...
...vote by the usual show of hands,
or by paper ballot.
- No, by hands.
- Right.
- Let's vote.
- So we'll vote by a show of hands?
- Yes, yes.
- Of course.
All in favor, please raise your hands.
One question.
"In favor" of what?
- What?
- "In favor" of guilty, or not guilty?
Guilty, of course.
I thought it was "in favor" of voting.
We're voting on whether he is guilty.
I didn't understand, that's all.
- He didn't know
- Put down your hands. Sorry.
That vote didn't count.
My fault. Sorry.
So... Put your hands down.
So we're voting...
...on whether the defendant is guilty.
A raised hand means guilty.
- Yes, yes.
- Guilty.
I just want to get it right.
Then raise your hand.
Don't you go to meetings?
What? All the time.
Workers of the world...
- Let's vote, come on.
- Yeah.
Why are we voting on "guilty" first?
What's the difference?
No, we can do this however we like.
Does it bother you?
No, I thought it might be a rule.
No, there's no rule about that.
Either way.
- Let's do it this way.
- For whether he's guilty.
OK. So we're voting on
whether the defendant is guilty.
- Yes.
- Hands up, please.
- Unanimous. We're out of here.
- No, wait.
Please. There are rules. Wait
Please take your seats.
Put your hands down.
Now, who thinks the defendant -
we have to follow rules...
...is not guilty, please raise your hand.
That's eleven...
- Here
- Eleven for guilty, one for not guilty.
Whoa!
What did we just vote on?
Did you hear that? Hello!
All that racket distracted the man.
We voted on whether that stinking
Chechen dog is guilty...
...of the murder of his adoptive father,
a Russian army officer.
Didn't understand?
The comrade didn't understand.
Start again.
- So let's vote again.
- No, no, I...
There's no need. I get it now.
I'm against.
Against convicting him.
What do you mean "against"?
You voted "for".
And I voted "against".
Why?
Well, it was eleven "for"...
...and one "against".
But why?
Why what?
Why did you vote that way?
Well, if I'd voted "for"
it would have been twelve "for" and...
...none "against".
And we'd all have gone home.
But that'd be good.
So why'd you vote "against"?
Vote "for" and let's go home.
I... It was too fast, somehow.
It was too fast, you see.
Fast? We listened to that judge talk
for 3 days. You call that fast?
No, well, yes, but...
It scared me.
We just put up our hands and...
...that was it. It was too fast.
Fast is good. It was obvious,
there was proof.
We all heard the witnesses.
We saw the evidence.
Well, yes.
But we're talking about a human being.
And we just put up our hands...
...and that was it.
What exactly do you want?
I want...
...well, to talk, at least.
To talk.
So talk.
"Beyond reasonable doubt. "
Sorry. That's a term
used in American jury trials.
"Beyond reasonable doubt".
It's just that, I studied at Harvard...
...I studied management.
And we had a course in law.
Talking would make sense
if there were reasonable doubt.
Did you hear that? Reasonable doubt.
We don't have any doubts
None. He killed him! It's a fact!
The brutal murder of an ex-officer
by his adopted son for a ridiculous sum.
- Yeah.
- Why talk?
That guy went to Harvard,
and he doesn't have any doubts.
- Neither do we. Do you?
- Do you?
Forgive me, please, and understand.
I know he went to Harvard.
Say you go to the market
and buy a watermelon.
- I do?
- No, no, I do.
I go to the market and buy a melon.
The salesman assures me
it's ripe and red, but...
...until I take it home...
...and cut it open,
it's very hard to know for sure if it is.
But this isn't a watermelon.
A watermelon you can just throw away.
This is a human being
facing a life sentence.
If we all vote yes,
they'll put him in prison forever.
And he'll never get out.
Do you understand? Ne-ver!
Just think about that word.
He'll never get out.
And he shouldn't.
He's a killer. What should he get?
A paid vacation to Thailand?
He should be grateful
they banned the death penalty.
Prison will put some sense into him.
All right.
All right.
Fine.
I don't want to keep you.
Let's vote again
and if I'm still the only one, I'll...
...vote with everyone else.
And let the boy's fate be what it will.
At least I'll know I tried
to do something for him.
That's an interesting move.
Essentially, you'll do
what everyone else does,
but you'll still be able to believe that
your hands are clean. Right?
Yes.
It looks that way.
But I request a secret ballot.
Why?
Honestly? To stall for time.
We have to get paper, pens.
That takes time.
Also, people often vote...
...just so they don't
stray from the group.
So I request that we vote
by secret ballot.
Secret or not, it's obvious
what the result will be.
So, we have a proposal for
a secret ballot
- Does everyone agree?
- Yeah.
- With these?
- Yes, take a ballot and a pencil or pen.
If we're ready to vote,
let's see if we're all here.
Wait...
Someone's missing.
That gentleman went to the bathroom.
I saw him.
- I saw him, honest.
- Why wait? Let's vote.
- He's an elderly man.
- Let's start.
He has to get there and pee,
maybe a bad prostate...
Then put all his equipment back in...
The ballot box. Let's vote.
I see you've done this before.
Yeah. Retirement's boring.
I sit at my dacha and paint watercolors.
Sometimes I serve on juries.
- You're an artist?
- No, not really.
I just paint watercolors as a hobby.
Has everyone turned in their ballot?
- Did you vote already?
- No, we were waiting for you.
"With birth and urination,
there's no procrastination".
Don't worry, I'll be fast.
What a great one-liner!
- Thank you.
- Sorry.
Well...
Let's count...
... shall we?
"Guilty".
"Guilty".
"Guilty".
"Guilty".
"Guilty".
"Guilty".
"Guilty".
"Guilty".
"Guilty".
"Not guilty".
"Guilty".
So, that's ten...
...for "guilty," and one against.
Two.
Two.
Two. For "not guilty".
What? Two?
Wait. That can't be.
Let me check those ballots.
There's no need.
No need to check anything.
I voted to find the young man
not guilty.
What?
that the kid is guilty.
At first it seemed clear.
- And now it doesn't?
- No, I can't say it's not clear.
But this man...
...proposed that I take responsibility
for his decision, as well.
And you know, I began to think.
About what?
Excuse me, but I don't understand.
This is some sort of Jewish logic.
Absolutely correct.
I'm a Jew. 100 per cent Jewish.
And like everyone,
I have tons of faults.
But I do have one virtue.
And it's an innately Jewish one.
Thoughtfulness. I treasure it.
I became thoughtful and went off
to think...
And you know,
I began to have doubts.
Why?
The lawyer.
- The lawyer what?
- He was bored.
Why be excited?
That Chechen monster killed his father.
I had the impression
he wasn't even defending him.
And he was right!
There's no reason to defend him.
Exactly. There was no reason.
The boy is destitute,
the lawyer's eyes were empty:
The face of a drunk,
he couldn't function.
Is it because he's not Jewish?
Drunk? Maybe, but honest.
Didn't let a killer off the hook.
But you had a hunch.
You should pray after a hunch.
- But you did.
- In the can.
Exactly, a sudden hunch in the can.
I think better in there.
Everyone does.
Why are you so worried?
There are 10 of you and only 2 of us.
We should be worried.
But I am worried.
I am worried, see.
How can I not be?
Because I see how you and your
Jewish tricks...
...are muddying an obvious case.
You didn't like the lawyer,
so you just changed your mind.
That's a typical Jewish move.
That's enough.
I didn't change my mind.
And I'm half Jewish.
No such thing as a half-Jew.
Is that a good thing...
...or a bad thing?
Now you, my friend...
...stay out of this
Look how much Umar likes your present.
Umar, come eat.
Uncle Volodya is here.
OK, then.
Listen, so you found...
...a good, kind, naive person,
and dragged him over to your side.
- "Braids"
- What?
- What rhymes with it?
- Just a minute. "Braids". "Grenades"!
No, I'm absolutely sure
that we'll all reach the same conclusion.
You'll waste time,
tell us another parable...
...about choosing watermelons
or about how to buy fresh fish.
I don't see why.
You'll make us go over everything
we heard in court for three days.
All the evidence
of that scumbag's guilt...
...that you'll never disprove,
because you can't. And then?
Then that man'll go
to the can again.
To think. He'll change his decision
to the correct one.
Believe me
that's exactly what'll happen.
What I don't get is,
why stall for time?
To go over the witness statements again?
You're not blind and deaf.
You saw that monster sitting in court.
You want to talk?
So let's talk.
Let's talk about how you think
you can defend a pig...
...who can't possibly be justified.
How can you justify a monster
who attacks his adoptive father?
And not just attacked...
...but cut his father's throat like a sheep.
He killed the man who took care of him...
... who raised him.
He butchered a man
who had done nothing to him.
Not only that,
but the man who adopted him.
Who saved him.
And it doesn't matter why.
For his pension or because
he yelled at him. I don't care about that.
I can't get my head around it.
I couldn't think of a single word to say...
...in defense of that bastard.
I don't think any of us could.
I don't think you could.
So then what's the point of
this sideshow?
Sorry.
- I had a wife.
- Wives? I've had three wives.
Wait. I had a wife. I loved her.
- He couldn't keep her... Like the rhyme.
- Just wait. I really loved her.
We had a tiny room
with hardly any furniture.
We even ate dinner on the floor,
because we had no table.
I was a junior researcher
in a physics institute.
I was developing one of my ideas.
So my wife had to work three jobs...
...so we could make ends meet.
Long story short, I invented a new
tunnel diode. It's...
It's hard to explain.
At work they congratulated me...
...gave me a 50-ruble bonus
and proposed I work on a new project
So I went home...
...with the result of three years" work:
Fifty rubles.
My wife gave me a look...
...like you'd give...
Then a large foreign company...
...offered to buy my patent
for a lot of money.
But I said no, I wanted it
to be used here.
I offered it to various places.
They said "It's great".
But nobody needed it. Nobody.
I began to drink.
I began to drink terribly.
I lost my job, my wife left me.
I only cared about drinking.
Morning, noon, and night.
I was dead drunk from morning to night.
It was awful.
One day I sensed I would die soon.
And the thought even made me happy,
It didn't scare me at all.
All I wanted was for it to be soon.
I began to look for death, I really did,
I looked for it.
I would fight with police, bother people
I got beaten up and cut.
I slept on the street,
in and out of hospitals.
I was beaten to a pulp.
But I'd pull through and
crawl back out.
At home I'd lick my wounds
like a stray dog and then...
...crawl out again.
My only fear was...
...jumping under a train
or out of a window.
Don't know why, it just scared me.
One day I was on a train,
dreadfully drunk.
I was filthy, I stank.
The train was full
I was bothering everyone:
Yelling, cursing.
But I looked at myself and I was glad.
My vileness made me glad!
My only wish was
that someone would take me...
...and toss me off the train
so I'd bash my brains on the rails.
But they all just sat silently.
They looked away, but they sat silently.
Except for one woman
with her five-year-old daughter.
I heard the little girl say:
"Mama, that man's crazy.
I'm scared".
But the woman said:
"No, he's not crazy.
He's just very, very sad".
I sold my invention
to a foreign company.
Today it's used in almost half
of all cell phones.
I work there.
But that's not important.
The woman is now my wife
and the girl is my daughter.
We also have a son.
He's 4 years old.
Are you done?
No, there's more.
Maybe that kid should...
...die in prison.
Maybe that's his fate. Who knows?
Me, I should have died in the gutter.
But I didn't.
Because one person, just one...
...looked at me a little more closely...
...than everyone else
And didn't let me remain...
...in my lonely wretchedness.
Now I'm done.
Well...
That's a touching story of salvation,
but it's your story.
And you didn't kill anyone.
But this is a story of murder
Testimony from the old man
in the apartment below...
...who heard arguing,
and the boy yelling "I'll kill you".
The boy says he didn't kill
his adoptive father.
What would he say? "I killed him"?
- Then we wouldn't be here.
- His words seemed sincere.
He can barely express himself
in Russian.
What? Enough already!
What are you saying? Listen!
I don't give a damn
how he speaks Russian.
But excuse me. You're all adults.
Shame on you! Look around!
It's not our city anymore.
They've taken over.
Everything! The markets, casinos,
hotels. It's all theirs.
Yesterday I tried to drive down
Theater St. In my taxi.
Eight lanes!
Eight lanes, all full!
Full of their Bentley-shmentleys,
Mercedes.
It was some kind of wedding.
Songs! Dancing!
I thought they'd start shooting in the air.
And this was a 3-minute walk
from the Kremlin!
This isn't Moscow anymore.
It's Baku-shmaku, whatever...
And me, a native Muscovite,
I feel like an alien in my own city.
And the boy?
What about him?
You're trying to defend him, right?
Remember how they said...
...he argued with his father
the day before?
Imagine a Russian kid.
What would a Russian kid do?
He might get angry, curse him out...
...maybe run away.
But he wouldn't pick up a knife.
But that savage, your boy,
that animal...
...he'd hide his anger and then go back
to cut his throat and stab him!
I've heard enough.
Savage? We live in the 21st century,
you know?
And there's no need to exaggerate.
It's an enormous job we're doing.
We? Who's we? Who? Who's we?
- Democratic forces.
- What?
What kind of forces?
Oh, Lord.
I agree.
I'm not talking about that, I mean...
They're bastards. Bastards.
One on one they're OK,
but if there's more of them...
One time I was on a train, on vacation.
Four of those animals, one with a knife.
They robbed me.
Two were holding my arms,
and one went through my pockets.
I wasn't really scared,
I was just nervous.
One gassed me, right in the nose.
I came to in Simferopol.
Later, I saw 2 of them
in the market in Alushta...
They recognized me...
...and started to lick my sandals.
Our people surrounded them.
I was disgusted. I grabbed them
and carried them.
I kicked them in the ass.
I twisted my ankle and
barely made it home.
And now I have pain in my groin.
Are you a doctor?
- I'm a surgeon.
- Thank you.
I don't need a surgeon yet,
I use a salve.
They're bastards.
Bastards.
If he didn't kill him, what difference
does it make how he speaks Russian...
...esteemed gentlemen of the jury?
That's right.
Do you like it?
Yeah.
Look how pretty it is.
Thanks.
Umar!
Go home!
Go home and do your homework.
Volodya.
Sorry, my father's calling me.
Homework.
Don't worry. You'll get your chance
to fight the Russians.
Hey, friend,
school won't teach him to fight.
What'd you say, friend?
You mind your own business.
We'll deal with this at home
by ourselves.
Volodya, go home. Umar.
Come here, little wolf.
Let's go.
He who has hidden his head under his wife's
petticoat will never find his head again.
By the way, I asked them to bring
the knife from the murder.
Why?
In court they kept stressing that
it was an unusual knife, special.
And that...
Thank you.
And that only that kid had one.
You remember?
In court they kept saying that it was...
...a unique knife.
Special.
Here.
Let me see.
Yeah. This is a specialized knife.
Used by some units
of the special forces.
Similar to the American model
CQC-7 "hand to hand combat".
Made by Ernst Emerson.
It's monogrammed.
The kid could've brought this knife
from Chechnya.
They're black market there.
You can't buy a knife like this
in Moscow.
This knife has devastating
stabbing power.
Oh my!
PAPA
MAMA
It's that...
A major in the special forces.
His unit was fighting in the area
where the defendant lived.
Later he adopted him.
Did you lose something?
- Hey, what if...
- No.
Those soldiers were the ones
who killed the boy's parents?
That's motive. Motive for murder.
Oh God. Revenge.
Yes, but he had known the boy
since he was 5...
...and was a family friend.
What about the knife.
Do we know whose it is?
There are initials on it.
No, the initials don't match
anyone in the case.
It's a rare knife. It was kept at home.
The kid carried it with him all the time.
His friends saw him with it.
They said all this in court.
They kept saying it was
an exceptionally rare knife.
Special.
Just listen to what you're suggesting.
What is it?
- Can't find it.
- The kid's in the park.
Just walking, walking...
And suddenly some guy
comes up to him and says:
"Hey kid, do you happen to know
where they sell good knives?"
And he says: "Why, yes! I have
a good knife right here. A very good one.
Rare. Unique. Yes".
And he sells it to him. Yes.
The boy sold him this knife. The man
bought it and went and killed his dad!
It's totally lun-icrous!
- What?
- "Lud-icrous".
Wait, wait!
What about the money?
They found 7 thousand in his pocket!
The same exact amount as...
...the pension the father received that day.
He didn't sell any knife!
He killed him and robbed him.
There's no sense in listening
to the defendant's lies...
- You can't get another knife like that, guys.
- I found it!
Thank God. The key is tiny,
I thought I lost it.
But it was hiding
in my pocket. There...
I also thought that the knife
was unique, special.
And that only he had one.
Look.
Here.
One and the same.
With a receipt.
They said it's unique, special
and that only he had one.
At the "Extreme" market
you can get one easily.
So what's that prove?
That the Chechen
didn't kill his father?
No, it proves nothing.
Can we smoke here?
Why not? We're locked in.
- Ashtray.
- May I?
- Thanks. I had a different goal.
- So you found the knife.
- Bought it.
- OK, bought. What's the difference?
These days you can even buy
a missile launcher.
But can you tell me how that proves...
...that the man who bought the knife
also killed the father?
May I? It doesn't prove that at all.
You interrupted me before.
Thank you.
I'm saying that the uniqueness
of the knife was...
...the prosecution's main argument.
But it turns out you can buy one easily.
So what? What does that mean?
It means the investigation wasn't very
thorough so other facts are possible.
The lawyer. The lawyer. He had nothing to say.
He was an empty man!
He couldn't defend him.
What...? What if...
...the one who bought it is the killer?
Oh, Jesus!
Buddy, why do you have
cottage cheese for brains?
Someone bought it and killed him.
Do you even understand
what you're saying?
Five minutes ago you drew us
a balance sheet.
"He killed and robbed him".
Who else had a reason...
...to kill a major for his pension?
If I were you I'd listen to the comrade
from the Transport Authority.
You know, your reasoning is somehow...
Jewish.
What, I should reason
like the late Yasser Arafat?
All right. No, well...
Wait a minute. Wait.
OK. So the working guy
said something stupid.
- Why are you supporting him?
- You know, what he said wasn't stupid.
See, that's a typical Jewish trick.
If a non-Jew says something stupid,
it's OK, but...
...if it's a Jew, it's not stupid.
All right.
The knife, a coincidence. It's the same,
I admit. But the man who bought the knife
used it to kill the father.
Is that also a coincidence?
That's impossible.
It never happens. Never.
You know, for some time now
I've believed that...
...anything is possible in life.
Absolutely anything. Even the impossible.
My dad...
...was in the ghetto during the War.
- A Holocaust story?
- No, it's about my dad.
The headquarters of the
Lithuanian SS was right nearby.
And there was an SS officer there
who had a beautiful Lithuanian wife.
Now, my dad was a scrawny man.
You see what I look like?
He was three times worse.
And did you inherit your dad's looks?
No, my mom's. Mom was no beauty,
either, but not like dad.
It made it that much easier
for my father to fall in love.
My father fell in love with that
beautiful Lithuanian woman.
And she fell in love with my father,
like a puppy.
Imagine what would've happened
if the Russians had lost.
The SS officer fled to Germany.
And she stayed with my dad.
Oh, God, wow!
They were both arrested
and sent to the camps in Siberia.
They were released in 1953,
found each other, and got married.
They moved to a little farm
near Vilnius...
...and began to crank out children.
Eleven of them.
By this time, of course, my dad had been
a pig and dumped my mom.
But I understand him.
For one thing...
...I saw her photograph.
I saw her photograph.
And for another...
...my mother was no angel, either.
Mother was no angel.
An amazing story.
If someone told me a story like that,
I wouldn't believe it.
But it happened to my dad.
Anything can happen.
Anything.
Stop, stop. I have doubts.
We all tend our gardens in our own way.
And we hold the shovel in our own.
Well... If you only knew.
I have an uncle.
He lives near Voronezh, he's a plumber.
Hands of gold!
He's generous and kind.
The whole city just loves him.
He likes to drink,
but he's not mean.
He doesn't drink too often.
In the center of town
there's a square.
They built this place there where
you can play machines for money.
"Brother," it's called. "Brother".
Uncle Kolya had never been a gambler.
But one payday, he got drunk.
And went there.
And, well, he lost.
He lost every cent.
He thinks: "How can I go home now
to Liuba, to my wife, and say:
"Liuba, I lost everything, all the money".
How?"
It'd be easier to hang himself.
But some kind people told him:
"There's a place nearby
where you can borrow money".
So he goes there and they say:
"OK, we'll give you a loan,
but with high interest,
and not less than 50 thousand.
So if you want 50 thousand, you got it,
but if not, you can go to hell".
What could he do?
He takes the 50 thousand...
...and goes back to that
"Brother" place, damn it.
And he...
He loses it all.
The whole 50 thousand.
Now what could he do?
Now what was he going to do?
Middle of the day.
He goes to work, tells the boss:
"Give me 50 thousand".
"What, are you nuts?"
"Nuts, eh? Just you wait."
He goes home. Gets a shotgun, shells.
And goes back. By this time
the boss had run off some place.
He goes to the accounting office.
There are only women there.
He takes three of them hostage.
He becomes a terrorist.
He makes them put
a bucket outside with a note,
his demands -
all 57 thousand rubles,
a luxury apartment,
a job as chief engineer,
and a plane to anywhere on earth
he chooses.
Now, why did he ask for a job,
when he planned to fly off in a plane?
That's not important.
It's not important.
The women say: "Uncle Kolya,
what are you doing? Look..."
But he just goes "oooo!"
He can't speak.
The women open the safe
and take out 800 rubles.
One goes to buy vodka,
a half case, ice cream.
And the police are there, snipers.
"He's a terrorist! Get him! Fire!"
But the police chief says:
"Stop! Absolutely not! Don't shoot!
I'll go myself!"
What a man!
And he goes in unarmed. What a man!
Uncle Kolya points the gun at him:
"I'll kill you".
And the chief says: "No you won't".
"Why not?"
"Because I'm the chief", says the chief.
Uncle Kolya drops the shotgun.
They sit around the case of vodka.
They have a drink.
And cry.
And there was no trial, no investigation.
I beg your pardon, but why exactly
did you tell us all that?
Why? He could have been sent to prison,
or shot. A terrorist!
But the police chief, what a man.
What a man! Nothing.
Uncle Kolya worked and paid off his debt.
I helped a bit.
The police chief moved up.
He became a businessman.
And "Brother" was burned down.
But by someone else,
not Uncle Kolya.
That's wonderful.
But what does all that have to do
with this case?
If... if...
I'm for kindness.
Your brains sure curdled fast, brother.
No, no.
I don't have cottage cheese up here!
A good man should be helped.
And a bad man should be...
I vote that the young Chechen
is not guilty.
Write it down. Thank you.
Well!
That's amazing!
What kind of justice is that?
Uncle Kolya the plumber
runs around drunk.
Uncle Lyosha the police chief
drinks vodka with him.
Uncle Vasya the city prosecutor
turns a blind eye.
And the criminal remains at large!
And meanwhile the entire
civilized world
has lived for centuries
according to the law.
A Russian man will
never live by the law.
- Why not?
- The law bores him.
The law is dead.
There's nothing personal about it.
And a Russian man without that
personal touch is an empty shell.
He won't steal or guard.
But that's awful!
Who said it was good?
Look at that horrible pipe.
It's obscene.
Total filth in the center of Moscow.
In a school,
where they teach children.
The builders forgot to run
a proper heating pipe,
and then the school was built.
They should cut off their limbs
and put them in prison.
By law.
But there are personal ties.
Human ones. Russian ones.
The school let them temporarily
hang that thing. Temporarily.
And it has a corrosive effect
on the minds of the children.
Maybe that's why they leave
their bras in the bathroom.
And nobody gets steamed up.
What's the law got to do with it?
Human relations.
Here! You'll love this.
Inventory number 72-17-99.
Young Eagle Pioneer Camp.
I wasn't even born then.
Do you see how it is?
And we still can't wake up
from the coma.
That's it. I missed my train.
The troupe left without me.
But I'm here. And I'm voting.
The young Chechen is not guilty.
Write it down. Period.
Shit...
What are you...? Aw, hell!
What did... See what you did?
- This is a circus?
- Actually, I'll join them! Write that, too!
Let's all join them!
- Wonderful...
- I also think the kid's not guilty!
And, incidentally,
I have reasonable doubts.
Can you explain why
if he killed and robbed
his adoptive father...
...he returned with the money
to the scene of the crime?
Yes, good point.
Atypical murderer wouldn't do that.
Listen, just listen.
OK, you're a respectable man,
a college dean.
How can you say that?
What does "typical murderer" mean?
Atypical one wouldn't go back,
but this one did,
because he's a stupid,
uneducated savage
who just jumped out of the tree.
You expect him to write novels?
You know perfectly well,
those animals have tiny little bird brains.
My dear sir...
...excuse me, but just who
are you calling a savage?
I'm also from the Caucasus,
for example.
So the poet Rustaveli was a savage?
The artist Pirosmani?
Directors like Paradzhanov?
- Who's a savage?
- I don't mean them.
I'm talking about the monster
who killed his father.
I'm talking about myself.
I'm also from the Caucasus.
I studied in Moscow.
But I get called "monkey".
I'm no monkey, I'm a surgeon.
A physician. I have my own clinic.
Understand?
I don't doubt it, OK, so you're not
toiling away at county hospital.
Then why do people come here
from the Caucasus to buy a diploma?
What? To buy what?
- I bought one?
- I don't mean you.
I'm asking you, wait!
I bought my diploma, yes?
I never paid anyone
to get where I am!
How dare you?
What gives you the right, huh?
I tried 4 times before I got into
Moscow Medical School!
And for all 4 years I worked
as an orderly at city hospital! Yes!
I worked as a paramedic and in the ER.
I graduated in honor! "With honors" I mean.
Yes,
so I don't speak Russian that well.
So what?
Yes, I said "lun-icrous" by mistake.
So what? I apologized.
I'm still a good doctor!
I don't doubt that you're a good doctor.
But I don't understand why
a good doctor like you
would vote guilty
if everyone in the Caucasus
is so cultured...
That's why I voted guilty.
It's an unheard of affront
in the Caucasus
to raise a hand against an elder.
Especially if he took you
into his home, his family.
Brothers, brothers...
Gentlemen... Comrades...
Come on, let's be civilized.
For God's sake.
I'm over here writing, plus one,
not guilty, guilty...
...let's be civilized, let's do it again.
Let's all vote calmly.
We'll write everything down so it's clear.
- So let's vote, OK?
- Can we vote by show of hands?
Now. Who votes
to find the accused not guilty?
Not guilty. Please pay attention.
Not guilty.
One,
two, three, four,
five.
Who votes to find the defendant guilty?
One, two, three, four, five,
six...
Seven.
Seven "for"...
Five for "not guilty",
seven for "guilty".
The boundary is here, right?
So it's a mirror image.
Let's reproduce it.
So your amateur theatre is going to
recreate the crime scene exactly?
Exactly? No, how could we?
One apartment was on top of the other.
We'll try to mirror-image them,
according to this floor plan.
Listen, the old man downstairs heard
the boy shout "I'll kill you".
And a falling body
and he saw the boy run away, right?
Have any of you been
to the scene of the murder?
Of course not.
You know, I have...
I went after the first day of the trial...
because I was curious to see
a building where only two apartments
were occupied.
In one, a murder, in the other,
a witness to the murder.
And nobody else.
What's that got to do
with this case?
Next to the building
there's a construction site.
They're building luxury apartments.
There's lots of machinery.
- They work around the clock.
- Around the clock. So what?
Imagine the noise
of a building site outside your window.
Your point?
The old man claims he heard
the boy shout "I'll kill you"
and then he heard something fall,
and he says he recognized the boy's voice.
Yeah, so? What? What?
With all due respect to the witness,
I don't believe him.
Wait. One second.
So you're telling us
that the old man knowingly lied in court,
under oath?
An old-school communist
slandered an innocent Chechen boy
for no reason?
If anyone lied, under oath and otherwise,
it was the communists.
They lied from top to bottom,
every one of them.
For privileges, for power,
and just out of habit.
Let's not talk about that, please.
Some people were different.
My father was a regional party secretary
in the Urals.
Privileges? What privileges?
Sometimes we didn't see him for years.
His heart was shot at 50.
After he retired,
he burned out within 3 months.
They spit him out like old gum.
Privileges, you say?
How do you think it looks?
- Pretty close.
- Pretty close.
Now, we've created two identical
apartments in mirror image.
As I said, one's on top of the other,
so they're identical.
In his testimony the old man said
that at the time of the crime
he was lying...
...on the living room sofa...
No, I can't see anything.
I'll ask the bailiff.
What's that?
The train. I'll call you back.
Oh Lord!
- You rang?
- Can you turn on the light?
We need to read. It's an experiment.
It's nighttime.
All right, I'll turn it on.
You'll have light.
Yeltsin's fault.
Thank you.
Thank you, Boris.
The old man was lying right here
on the sofa.
The crime happened here.
He said his living room is
under the room where the murder was.
Did anyone notice how the old man
walked to the stand?
Yes, I remember very well!
He walked slowly, his knees didn't bend.
Because he has arthritis.
The floor plan shows
all the room dimensions.
And we've reproduced them almost exactly,
to see he had to get up from the sofa,
walk 35 meters, open the door,
and still manage to see someone.
- Anyone know average walking speed?
- A meter and a half per second.
- A meter and a half.
- If you're healthy.
So, 10 seconds is 15 meters.
So 35 meters is about 25 seconds.
And we'll see which one of us
gets to the door first.
But you have to walk like him.
Pardon me, gentlemen.
I could time you.
- Yes.
- Thank you very much.
Thank you, as well.
You're the old man on the sofa.
I'm the criminal.
It should take you 2 seconds
to get up and find your slippers.
Start when I say so.
- Action!
- I'll kill you!
- What's going on?
- Stop, stop.
- Excuse me, you're disturbing us.
- We're working here, see.
No problem. Thank you.
We're doing an experiment. Sorry.
It's OK. Start again.
Reset the clock to zero.
Zero.
- Ready?
- Yes.
Attention...
- Action!
- I'll kill you!
- Get up.
- OK. There's a noise.
The knife. There are prints.
Come on, old man, up!
You hear a noise.
Something's up.
No, wait.
You have to wipe off the prints.
Wipe off the fingerprints completely.
Come on, old man, come on.
Let's go, let's go.
I wipe off the fingerprints.
You have to take the money.
You need to find it.
Old man, come on, come on, let's go!
Let's go!
But the boy would know
where the money is.
OK, I look for the money.
I'm looking for it.
I think that's enough time
to find the money.
Don't forget, put on your coat.
Come on, old man, something's up,
come on.
- Someone's shouting.
- Parasites...
I put on my jacket. I button it. I walk.
I walk. I'm in the other room now.
I open the door, I run.
I open another door.
I'm in the hall.
I open the door. I'm on the stairs.
Seven stairs,
three steps on the landing.
The old man's apartment
I'm outside!
But he only got as far as the door.
Add another 5 seconds for him
to unlock the door.
So what?
Maybe it was like that.
And maybe it wasn't.
The police believed the old man.
And I believe the police.
The old man saw the kid running away.
Or someone else running away.
Who?
Someone who wasn't in a hurry.
Someone who needed to be seen.
Push up.
You know, I think...
...that an old man with
rheumatoid arthritis type 3 FNS 2
could never walk
that far in ten seconds.
I say that as a doctor.
I want to vote.
I vote that the boy is not guilty.
Six - six.
And...
Me too.
Seven -five.
Seven -five.
- What is it?
- I'm cold.
Cold? We're all cold, pal.
They gave you double bars.
But you're still cold.
Deal with it, pal.
"A birch, a rowan tree"
"A willow on the river bank"
So, actor...
Your squad went to earn
some loot without you?
We call it "cleaning up".
"- Where could you find..."
- You performed here.
- For free, though.
- That's called a "command performance".
Did you switch sides as a joke?
That's called "buffoonery".
Catch!
You... Hey. Sorry, I...
I didn't mean to.
I thought you'd catch it.
Listen...
Listen.
Listen, you.
Why are you always
talking to me like that?
I said sorry. OK...
Why do you do it?
Do we know each other?
Did we play football...
...or drink vodka or chase girls?
- What? Huh?
- And why do you always cackle?
- Who cackles?
- You cackle. Why?
- Who cackles?
- You. All the time. Always cackling.
Why would I cackle?
We've been here 5 hours.
You found yourself a clown, eh?
What am I, a clown to you?
A cheap clown?
I'm sick of your laughter!
You've all turned blue from cackling,
like you were strangled.
You always want to laugh.
You think it's funny.
You laugh everywhere at everything!
Before you even sit in your seat
you're ready with your cackle.
You laugh at absolutely everything!
Life. Death. Tsunami.
Earthquakes! And you cackle!
Half the country's freezing...
A cop murders someone...
Five million homeless orphans...
Why are you laughing?
Why the "ha ha ha"?
Because being serious terrifies you.
Not long ago...
...I was performing and I started
to talk to the audience seriously.
About my life,
about life in Russia.
Everyone laughed.
They thought it was a joke.
I bet if I were to spit
from the stage onto the first row,
they'd still laugh,
they'd think it was a joke.
Found yourself a clown?
I'm no clown.
I've only really earned one smile.
One single smile.
When I was playing that old man.
As a kid, I stayed alone a lot
with my sick grandma.
I was five or six, yeah, six.
She collapsed.
I could tell she was dying.
I called an ambulance,
but it took forever.
I gave her medicine.
I was terrified.
She was my grandmother, after all.
I decided to cheer her up.
I started imitating
her neighbor, Sima,
and another friend of hers.
They were both very funny.
Grandma was in a lot of pain
but I saw her smile.
Even when they were carrying her body
out, I saw a smile on her face.
All that...
...laughter...
...and a smile.
And that Chechen kid...
The old man...
I could feel in my bones...
...their horrible fear...
...and loneliness.
Same as when I was with my grandmother
while she was dying.
That was the only smile
I ever really earned.
Good thing there are mats.
I could've broken my back.
What a Russian story.
Yeah.
Everything here is very Russian somehow.
It's not Harvard.
Yes. It's not Harvard.
Really got to you, huh?
Hey, let's do one more experiment.
You did an experiment.
I just want to check one thing.
Now, just imagine...
You have an imagination, right?
Me?
It's not bad. It's...
It's part of my profession.
Naturally! Yeah!
Now, imagine...
...you're coming home.
Late at night.
- Are you married?
- I am.
Hold this, please.
- Do you have kids?
- Yes. A little girl.
- What kind of car?
- An Audi-80.
So, imagine that you're coming home
late one night.
You live in a good area,
nice building, right?
With a concierge, security cameras,
and everything,
secure parking lot,
a gate, a guard.
I have a keychain alarm.
Kolya the guard...
His name is Kolya.
Uncle Petya the custodian.
- Uncle Valera.
- Uncle Valera.
- Hi, Uncle Valera.
- You know them, and they know you.
You're not afraid.
Not at all.
It's your home.
Your very well-guarded home.
And so, you park your wheels
in the usual place
and suddenly you notice
something's wrong.
- What's wrong?
- The light's on in your window.
They're usually asleep by now,
but the light's on.
So? Maybe they waited up.
Of course.
They decided to wait up for you.
But there's a noise
so you ask Valera.
"Everything OK?"
He says: "Yes, it's fine".
You go in.
Auntie Polya, the concierge, smiles.
Everything's fine.
Just listen.
You go to the elevator.
You live on the fifth floor, right?
Right. How did you know?
I really do live on the fifth floor.
Of course you do.
It's the best one.
Not too high, not too low.
And it has a good view.
But why aren't they asleep?
Why? You'll see the surprise
they've made for you.
Here it is, fifth floor. "Fifth floor".
It's a woman's voice:
"Fifth floor".
Oh, those little scamps,
they're not asleep.
They're waiting for dad.
They have a surprise for him.
- I open the door.
- You open the door.
Wipe your feet.
Did you wipe them?
- And it's quiet.
- What's quiet?
The apartment, very quiet.
It's never been so quiet.
And the lights.
Lights are on everywhere.
Things are scattered.
A child's slipper. Just one.
A large bath towel.
On the floor.
You know what's going on.
You call them.
Please, an answer.
"Please let them answer".
But they're silent.
The emergency phone
is on the right.
- On the left.
- Sorry, left.
The cord's torn out, the receiver's
on the floor. You turn around slowly...
- And... There it is!
- What?
There!
Blood under the door.
It opens.
On the chandelier hangs...
A panda.
A big stuffed panda.
Your daughter's favorite.
And it's not blood.
It's a broken wine bottle.
All is not lost.
You run to the bedroom.
And here they are!
Your daughter. She looks alive.
No blood. She was strangled!
You open the bedroom, and there,
raped and hacked to pieces...
...is your wife.
It's the end.
You want to yell, to run,
but you can't.
You stand like pillar of salt.
Over their bodies.
- He's nuts. Nuts.
- Wait. That's not all.
You hear someone behind you.
Who could it be?
It's that same Chechen
that you want to save from prison.
With the same knife.
He slowly, methodically
pins you belly down to the floor,
pulls back your head,
takes that cold, sharp blade
and cuts your throat from ear to ear.
You, Harvard, will crawl
in your own blood.
With your last breath...
You don't understand why he did it!
He did it because we're
just trophies to them!
We're not humans, we're trophies!
I change my vote. The killer is guilty.
Good for you!
And good for your mom, too.
What a guy she raised.
Smart. Lively.
Imaginative. And truthful.
There you go.
Six - six.
Very interesting.
Why are you looking at me?
I don't know...
He's impressionable.
He's sick.
Should we call the bailiff?
- Doctor...
- What can I do?
It's not...
...food poisoning...
It's nervous regurgitation.
Give him some water.
- Are you OK?
- I'm fine. Thanks very much...
Yes. Yes...
"The City Wolves".
Season seven finale.
That's right. I watched it.
Every Monday through Thursday at 9:35 pm
You watch our channel.
I'm glad.
Thank you.
Don't shoot!
Everyone back! Back!
Stay back, I said!
Don't shoot! Stay where you are!
I said don't shoot!
Quiet!
Quiet.
Follow the car!
Any wounded?
- No, nobody.
- Good.
Umar.
Hey, Umar.
Is that you?
It's me, uncle Volodya.
Calm down. Don't be afraid.
Get up.
I'm uncle Volodya.
Get up.
Calm down, calm down.
Umar.
Umar.
Calm down.
Thank God I found you.
Everything's OK now.
You'll come live with me in Moscow.
Don't be afraid, it's me.
Lord...
You see, we have new lights,
but old wiring.
It's freezing.
And juries rarely sit this long.
The wiring can't take it.
I'll give you a lantern.
Don't worry,
we'll think of something.
Fine.
- Here it is.
- What happened?
I think I understand:
The old man's address!
When he gave his statement
he gave one address,
the building where
the murder happened.
But in court he gave
a different address, his daughter's.
Yes, he said... Ow!
Sorry.
He said that
the day after the murder
he went to his daughter's
on the other side of Moscow.
And stayed.
So he lives there now?
That's right.
He said he went there
for her birthday.
But the murder
and his change of address
were in November?
Yes.
But the daughter's birthday
is in March.
- Some light, please.
- Sure, here you go.
And what does all this mean?
Light.
I'll explain.
I asked our bailiff
to bring me some information about
the construction next to the building.
It's a huge project,
a luxury apartment building.
One square meter
costs at least 4000 dollars.
All the apartments are sold.
But the building where the murder happened
stands right where
they plan to build a wing
of the luxury building.
The construction schedule is firm.
And?
Now imagine you have to
build a building
where people have paid millions
for apartments.
But two old jerks
who aren't worth a penny
won't let you start construction.
It's a public building.
It's central.
The late officer stayed
because it had been military housing
but he had no right to stay there.
But the military didn't have any other
apartment for him.
And the stubborn old party worker,
wouldn't leave
because he demanded an equally good
apartment, and also central.
In cases like that the job is done
on a personal level.
They send lawyers, building agents.
They call themselves
anything they like,
but really they're just crooks.
And these thugs go after
the military man
who fought against them in the war.
And after the old communist
who has no idea
what kind of people they are.
And so they cook up a
lucrative scheme.
They start surveillance.
Study the relationships.
See how they all interact.
And wait for their moment.
As a result:
One person is killed,
another, who did not kill anyone,
is sent to prison,
the third runs off to his daughter's
on the other side of Moscow.
And within a few days is living there...
...permanently.
It was...
...a very lucrative scheme.
So...
...you're saying it was a
premeditated murder?
Looks that way.
But that's horrible!
Well...
...when millions of dollars
are at stake...
...the difference between persuasion...
...and execution...
...disappears.
How do you know all this?
I say, how do you know all this?
People talk.
Pass the candle, please.
Over here.
So, you just told us
all of that, and...
...and what now?
I'm convinced that the boy
did not kill his father.
I vote.
Not guilty.
Back to seven -five.
I'll admit that your wild theory,
so to speak, is possible.
But you're forgetting the other witness,
in the next building.
Her windows are across from
the room where the murder happened.
And she testified that she saw
with her own eyes how the father...
"The father hit the boy in the face,
and then...
...the Chechen grabbed a knife
and stuck it...
...into the chest of the officer, Volodya".
She had no reason to give
false testimony.
Nobody wanted to tear down her building.
Don't trust her! That woman
not only claimed she saw the murder.
She demonstrated
how he stabbed from above.
Yes?
Yes, she did.
Before I went to med school
I worked as an orderly.
I saw lots of knife wounds.
How could a kid who's
a head shorter than his father.
How could he stab him
from above?
What is this, a Bollywood movie?
It's nonsense.
It's just ridiculous. Listen...
...what're you babbling about?
I don't get it. A "Bollywood movie"?
That's nonsense!
I've never been an orderly.
Do you want me to show you...
...how a person can stab someone
a head taller from above?
Want me to show you?
Do you?
Go ahead, if you can...
- You want me to?
- Go ahead.
All right.
Look.
Come here.
Come here.
How did he do it? I'll show you.
Come here. There.
Where...?
Come here.
How'd he do it? Watch.
Come here. Watch. Watch.
There. Like that.
Stop.
Am I shorter than you?
Shorter by a head? Well? Am I?
Shorter, right?
I'm a head shorter than you.
Bollywood, you say?
How could he do it?
I'll show you.
I'll show you how he could do it.
His father hit him.
Insulted him and hit him.
He took the knife.
I'll kill you!
What was that?
Is it blood?
The bird...
...pooped.
Let me have the knife.
You know?
The boy grew up in a land where
they know something about knives.
Anyone who's ever used
a knife knows
you have to strike from below.
It's always unpredictable.
Always dangerous,
and always hard to defend against.
Like this.
What are you...?
Then, to be sure the knife
reaches the heart,
as the medical expert said...
...you must strike with power,
penetrate the chest cavity.
Hey, stop...
You're a surgeon.
Yes, a surgeon. Can't you tell?
A knife...
...like any other weapon,
especially in the Caucasus,
is a form of culture.
Sorry...
...I learned it when I was a kid,
in the Caucasus.
Sorry.
Very interesting.
I change my decision.
Oh Lord, I'm blind.
I can't talk now.
I can't talk now, you hear?
They're still deliberating.
Can you imagine?
All night. Imagine that...
Got some real go-getters.
Is it my fault?
Since our wiring is totally shot
this is the best I can do,
it's left over from a school dance.
- A karaoke party...
- I'll take the lantern.
If you did your job,
you'd be home.
You'd be at a disco or a
karaoke bar like normal people.
I propose we vote.
The gentleman builder is right,
it's a very logical plan.
I think the kid is not guilty.
Please raise your hand if you
think the accused is guilty.
One. Two.
Three.
Please raise your hand if
you think he is not guilty.
One, two, three,
four, five six, seven, eight.
And you?
Sorry.
Are you...?
What?
- How do you vote?
- Meaning?
You said you change your mind.
What are you changing it to?
One second.
Pardon me, but do you recall
how I voted the last time?
Ah, when you...?
You voted guilty.
Thank you very much.
Yes, I definitely change my mind.
And vote that the accused
is not guilty.
You won't change again?
I can write...?
What do you mean?
It's my final decision.
Based on principle.
Thanks to principles like that
we'll wake up one day
surrounded by green berets
restoring order,
and foreign speech.
I don't understand why
you're insulting me.
You changed your mind
just like I did.
No, pal, not like you did.
He just described a very clear plan,
and how it works.
It's one criminal scheme.
It's not just one.
The scheme is everywhere.
What scheme?
When the big fish don't
give a thought to the little people,
who have to get by
however they can.
By their own rules.
It's like that everywhere.
In construction, in hospitals,
and in cemeteries.
What do cemeteries
have to do with it?
Have you ever buried anyone?
Me?
Yes, I have.
Two years ago.
In London. Matilda.
Who was she?
A Rottweiler.
That's not a name.
It's a breed of dog.
I don't know how they bury dogs
in London,
but I do know how we see people off
on their final journey.
I've been a cemetery director for 8 years.
Now, imagine this.
You're burying a loved one.
A funeral service, the usual.
You go to the graveyard.
- Like this.
- What are you...? What grave?
- That's mom.
- Sorry.
My mom's there.
- Well, it's...
- My mom.
The final farewell, relatives.
And some old lady standing nearby.
She looks into the grave
and says "Oh God, that poor man".
They say "What is it?"
They look, the grave's flooded.
How can that be?
What can they do? You can't
put your loved one in a swamp.
And the old granny whispers advice.
They go to the head gravedigger,
who's there.
They say: "Sir, there's water in there.
Please do something".
He gives them some line
about ground water
and he shovels the liquid
out of the grave.
But it runs back in. They're in shock.
The old lady tugs at someone's sleeve
and shows them another grave nearby,
that's completely dry.
And pristine.
Now here's the interesting part.
The relatives ask the digger,
"Listen is there any way
we can change places?"
"Are you crazy?"
They're burying someone there
in 15 minutes.
No way. All the paperwork's done"
They get on their knees, in tears;,
"Sir, please help us. We'll pay.
Just tell us how much".
The rest is easy.
He looks at their clothes.
For you, 2000 bucks.
For someone else, 500. If they're poor
he won't even look at them.
They swap stones.
The dead guy gets a dry grave
The family leaves.
The old lady gets 500 rubles
They pull out the plastic sheet from
under the grave
and in 15 minutes it's dry.
And the diggers are ready
to rig up another wet grave.
That's it.
I'm glad we cremated
my mother in law.
Very interesting.
Why are you looking at me?
Is it different where you work?
Everyone's in on it. Everyone.
In their own way.
Right, friend?
Rolex?
Yeah.
Expensive.
Well, yeah.
On your cemetery pay?
Yes...
...on my cemetery pay. I won't lie
But I also used that cemetery pay
to restore the chapel.
And I feed the bums who
hang around the cemetery.
They have to eat somewhere.
And I built a school in the town
where I was born, 830 km from Moscow.
It has a gym... come visit,
you'll see.
And we don't have monstrosities,
like that pipe.
My pipes are underground,
where they should be.
There's a computer lab with
LCD screens.
Local teachers, all with
good salaries.
We have a bus to bring kids
from farther away.
And take them home, of course.
So they don't have time
to sniff glue.
And if you ask
the people in the village:
"Where'd the money to build this
school come from?"
They couldn't care less where
the money came from,
as long as the school stays
up and running.
So I use money from the dead
to help the living.
Since nobody else is going to.
In short, the Chechen is not guilty.
Still, can you explain to me,
an almost sane person,
why that simple woman,
who is not part of any scheme,
testified in court
that the Chechen
killed the Russian officer
Volodya with a knife?
I know why.
You can yell at me.
You can laugh. But I know.
- It was jealousy.
- What?
Jealousy,
She didn't hear the boy,
she lives across the street.
She didn't see anything either
because it was night time.
At best, she saw some shadows,
though I doubt it.
She didn't see anything.
She was convinced that it was the boy
and no one else,
because she wanted
and was prepared to see
the worst in him.
Why?
Jealousy.
Terrible,
senseless, female jealousy.
Look at these photos.
She showed them in court.
To prove that she knew the victim.
Here's a photo of them at a party.
Her, the deceased, and his wife.
Now here's one...
...of her, him, and someone's arm.
It's his wife's arm.
Why did she need to go
and crop the photo
so it only shows her
and the deceased?
Cutting out the wife.
This is a photo of her dream.
What happens next is very simple:
A single woman,
childless, who dreams of finally
having her own family.
She likes the man from across the street,
but he's married.
She writes him in Chechnya,
tells him his wife's cheating.
- Can I see?
- Sure, here.
And that she's sorry,
but she couldn't keep quiet.
True or not,
she did write him the letter.
It was jealousy.
She engineered his divorce.
That was it!
No more obstacles.
Just her and him, like the photo.
All she had to do was
wait for his return.
The return of her beloved.
And he arrives, but not alone.
He's with a nasty, filthy
savage monkey
who can hardly speak Russian.
Remember, she said she asked him
what his plans were?
And he just replied
that he planned to live with the kid
and take care of him.
That was it. All her hopes, ruined.
But she kept it up.
Remember, she said she invited him over.
With the boy. For her birthday.
She made dinner, bought sweets,
and a book.
Later she discovered
that some money was missing
from next to where
that poor boy was sitting.
And she tried to convince him
to return it.
Eventually she admitted in court
that she had put it somewhere else
and forgot.
But, at the time, she mentions
the money
in front of a combat vet
who'd been wounded.
She must have known
what could happen.
And did happen, of course.
The man hears that the kid
he considers his son is a thief.
And he loses control of himself.
He smacks the boy, but she's silent.
And when his nose bleeds
she leaps to his defense
and says the boy's innocent.
Or rather, he's guilty,
but shouldn't be hit.
Because children are weaker,
you shouldn't hurt them.
God!
She didn't lie.
She wanted to believe
the murderer was the boy
and no one else.
Jealousy.
Senseless, cruel,
blind, instinctive
female jealousy.
That's it.
Right there.
She found the money later,
she said so herself.
I live with my son.
He's twenty now, but back then, in"91
he was six.
In 1990 my wife left me.
She ran off with a guy from the States.
The hell with her...
The kid was upset, of course,
but I explained that mom just went
on a long trip, and that
he'd see her again.
My mom looked after him.
I had started driving a cab,
working like a dog.
Didn't really think about my family.
Women are no problem for a cabbie.
One day...
...I started talking to this woman.
Not a beauty
We went out a couple of times,
and she came to live with us.
I didn't need much from her:
Meals, laundry, take the kid to school.
She seemed to like him just fine.
Kolya. Little Nikolai.
For the life of me, I can't remember
how it started.
She began to tell me things
about my boy...
...that he was lazy,
that he misbehaved.
I call him over and ask:
"Is it true?"
He looks at me, smiling,
and says: "Yes, dad." And hides his eyes.
I punished him.
One day I'd had enough,
I don't remember what she told me
but I just snapped.
I busted into his room
dragged him out of bed,
punched him.
She's quiet.
Then her nose starts bleeding.
She screams.
"Murderer! Murderer! What are you doing?!
You're killing the child!"
And it started.
I'd beat him...
She'd see the blood and scream.
It was brutal.
And my boy, it was as if
he was expecting it.
He stopped crying.
He'd just blink and smile,
blink over and over, but not cry.
He didn't cry.
I punch him.
His face is bloody.
And he keeps blinking and smiling.
Blinking and smiling.
One night I woke up.
I heard water running.
I go to the bathroom,
he's washing his sheet
He had pissed his bed.
That kid...
He sat in the corner
hugging the sheet.
Looking at me and smiling.
Smiling.
Blinking and smiling.
It was like he was always guilty.
That look, and that smile.
He'd look at me...
And I was right in a way,
But in my soul, deep down...
It was like someone made me
my own son's executioner.
Then she had a baby, also a boy.
He was about four.
He acted up in front of me.
I gave him a little smack.
And bam!
God help me...
I barely got away. She threw an iron,
it just missed me.
I could slug my own son,
but I just barely touched hers,
and she nearly killed me.
She and the kid went to
her relatives in Tambov.
I was working nights.
I had already left the building
when I turned around.
It was like someone grabbed me
by the collar.
I saw a light in the window.
I ran to the apartment.
I look all over, can't find him.
It's 3am.
I hear a rustling in the closet.
I open the closet.
And he's sitting there.
Smiling and looking at me.
And blinking.
Blinking, over and over.
I say: "Son, what are you doing?"
I pull him out of the closet.
I hold him. He holds me tight.
He looks at me, smiling and blinking,
and he's got something behind his back.
I say: "Son, what's that?"
And I take his hand.
Like that. His hand.
And he's holding a noose.
A noose he made from my belt.
I don't know...
...what he saw on my face.
But he grabbed me, hugged me,
pressed himself tight.
And whispered:
"Papa, don't, papa".
"Papa, don't, don't".
Over and over.
"Don't, papa, don't".
And he's smiling.
Smiling and saying: "Papa, don't".
Well...
...I vote...
...the kid is not guilty.
Write it down.
Yes, you know,
that was very persuasive.
I agree, the boy is not guilty.
- Let's vote.
- OK, fine.
Who thinks he is not guilty,
raise your hand.
- Thank God.
- Finally, thank you.
It's unanimous, he's not guilty.
Wait. Let's write it down.
Wait, please. Wait.
Just wait.
I haven't voted yet.
- Well, I hope you'll join us.
- No.
I think
he's guilty.
Eleven for "not guilty"
and one for "guilty".
- Listen!
- I'll explain, I'll explain.
- These artists...
- Why?
- Come on...
- I don't get it.
We only hurt the ones we love...
I knew from the first minute
that he was innocent.
Professional experience.
I agree with all the explanations
we've come up with here.
The old man was obviously scared.
And the woman...
You forgot that she's nearsighted.
She wears glasses. And she claimed
she was sleeping that night.
She had to put on her glasses
and go to the window.
It's not realistic.
And the boy, well, he's from the Caucasus.
They're very different people.
I worked there a few times,
I know them.
He wouldn't yell "I'll kill you!",
he'd just kill you.
And he wouldn't make up
a stupid story.
The rest is obvious.
It was clearly a set up.
Arranged by people
who really need the kid
to go to prison. Right?
We saw that. We proved that
he's innocent.
Right?
But as soon as
we reach that verdict,
they'll let him go.
Of course they will. And?
- That's great.
- And thank God.
Yes, thank God he's not a murderer.
Then what? Why did you
vote to find him guilty?
I don't understand at all.
I have ceased to understand anything.
We finally... You...
I just don't understand anymore.
After all we've gone through.
Me, for instance
And when... I'm sorry.
When we all...
And you... What is this?
We've accomplished a great thing,
an arduous task.
We've established the truth.
I can say one thing for sure.
He'll live longer in prison,
than he will on the street.
Very interesting.
If he gets out now, he won't go to
a bar or home, or to relatives.
He has nothing, nobody, understand?
He'll look for the killers.
Also, if we acquit him now,
it will automatically trigger
an investigation into the unsolved murder.
The men who killed his father
will be on guard,
and they'll look for the kid.
He'll look for them.
And they'll look for him,
but he doesn't know where they are.
But they know where he is.
So our decision, instead of sending
the kid to prison
will be his death warrant.
And they'll kill him crudely, horribly.
Like a dog, with a sharpened screwdriver...
And nobody will look for him.
You know that.
They'll find him 8 or 10 months later
in a sewer or a garbage dump.
And that's it.
There are people in the courtroom
following every step of the trial.
I can smell it.
Professional instinct.
Understand?
- An artist's instinct
- What?
An artist's.
Yes, an artist's.
What if he hangs himself in prison?
How do we know what'll
happen to him in there?
How will he act?
How can we know?
Well, then, that's his fate...
...if he hangs himself.
But I'll tell you one thing for sure.
He'll live longer
in prison than he will on the street.
OK, then what do you suggest?
Are you proposing we let
an innocent man sit in prison
while the criminals go free?
- Exactly.
- I didn't propose that.
Hide him away in prison:
He has nowhere else to go, anyway.
His home was torn down.
He has nowhere to live.
We'll hire lawyers.
We can get some money together.
We'll go to the prosecutor.
We'll find professionals.
And tell them what we know.
They'll nail the killers to the wall.
Then, when they're locked up,
the kid can be let out.
And then he'll be free and safe.
From them, anyway.
You'll excuse me, but, these lawyers,
these professional people,
that prosecutor...
Who's going to handle all of that?
I'm curious.
Who? What do you mean, who?
Who?
We will. Who else?
Us?
Who else has any use
for a poor Chechen boy who
doesn't speak Russian
and was accused of killing his father?
Who's going to handle it?
Who needs him more than we do? Who?
I'm a cab driver. Not an investigator.
I gotta work.
I understand, of course, but...
...I don't know.
I don't know, I used to have contacts
in the prosecutor's office.
But that was 100 years ago,
when dad was alive.
And I'm supposed to go
to Japan for six months.
It's a complicated project.
It's not just me, understand.
I have 850 employees to think about.
What do you think?
That I'm going to work there,
while there's an innocent man
in prison who can't do anything?
The 21st, 22nd...
...and the 20, yes.
I for example have four operations
scheduled next week.
On the 21st, the 23rd,
and two on the 24th.
Should I cancel them all?
How can I?
OK, gentlemen.
Let's say, purely hypothetically,
that, say I could do it, but how?
It's a very serious job. I'd need...
I'd need a ton of time.
I'm producing a new reality show.
I'm working day and night.
The show's called "Planet Good."
It's...
OK, it's clear that we'd
all do it, but when?
A 3-month tour.
I'm already late, I'll have to catch up.
Listen, my dear, kind friends.
We've done a great thing.
We've liberated an innocent person.
One who's a stranger to us,
by the way.
We've fulfilled our duty as jurors.
The rest is up to other official organs.
Don't start an amateur investigation.
There are, after all, laws!
What is it? Have you all lost it?
Brave young pioneers.
You want to stick around till morning?
Come to your senses!
I have to be at the airport
in an hour and forty minutes.
My girlfriend's flying in from Dubai,
Julie.
She's 21. It's been 2 months.
Are you trying to ruin my life?
Are you out of your minds?
I started to work out
like an old fool.
She has tits like melons.
I haven't seen her for 2 months.
I'm in love, for the first time.
Six feet one.
Chocolate brown nipples. Like this.
Lips like Angelina Jolie. Green eyes...
Don't get me started on her ass,
I've gone on long enough.
They laugh at me at the cemetery.
I write poetry at work.
"Julie, darling, dear.
Free me from my fear.
You're all that I desire.
Wind, and rain...
...and fire."
And I have to bang her every half hour.
Why do I work out?
I can't sleep. Listen,
I've had wet dreams 3 nights in a row.
Like I was 15.
When did you last have one?
Television... Understand?
I'm sick of this meeting.
Let's do something.
- Calm down.
- Don't touch me.
- Let's make a decision.
- Drink.
Drink it yourself.
Don't touch me!
Let's do something.
What's so funny, eh?
See that pipe?
- What's that...
- No, do you see it?
- How many years?
- 40.
- How many more to come?
- 40.
Another 40.
And? What? What?
Everything's like that. Everything.
We come. We see. We judge.
We drink. We talk in circles.
That's all we do...
And everything's like that.
In other words,
I have a suggestion.
Let's be honest adults.
If even now,
after all my arguments,
you still vote to find
the kid not guilty
I'll join you. Sound good?
Wait a second. Wait. Wait.
And you'll definitely vote not guilty
if we all do?
I gave my word.
Well, you know, the word of an artist...
Fine.
Don't like the word of an artist,
I give you my word as an officer.
Ex-officer, right?
No such thing as a Russian ex-offi...
Let's vote. Who votes to find...
...the kid not guilty, raise your hand.
- We're voting for not guilty.
- Yes.
...10, 11...
...12.
"Not Guilty".
It's still a better place.
No, it hasn't worked out yet.
We'll talk.
Don't leave without me.
Would you recognize them?
Of course. I'll never forget them.
We'll find them.
We'll find them. I promise.
What was your father's name?
Ruslan.
- And your other one?
- Uncle Volodya.
My name's Nikolai.
Call me Uncle Nikolai.
If you want.
Let's get out of here. Let's go.
You can live with me.
So it's like this.
If you want to fly away, then fly.
The coast is clear.
If you want to stay, then stay.
But make the decision
all by yourself.
Nobody will do it for you.
It's been an honor.
"THE LAW IS ALL POWERFUL
AND CONSTAN
BUT WHAT CAN BE DONE WHEN MERCY
HAS A GREATER FORCE THAN LAW"
B. TOSIA