An eye for an eye?
You're wrong.
Revenge isn't sweet.
It's an evil act.
That will haunt you forever.
Revenge is born out of helplessness.
Overcome it and your
vindictive spirit will subside.
Sometimes ignorance
can be the best revenge.
Starring
MR. VOLTA
Based on a true story
Music by
Cinematography
Written and Directed by
One week before
Stop!
Fuck!
Pull back!
- Are you all right?
- She just popped up.
- On a pedestrian crossing!
- I'm okay. Ouch...
We'll take you to the hospital,
just in case.
No need, really.
No one will buy our story.
- You just shut up, okay?
- Actually...
What were you doing down there?
Say what?
We'll drop you off
anywhere you want.
- To the center?
- We're headed elsewhere.
No problem, really.
I think she broke jail.
Let's stay out of it.
That's ridiculous.
And tactless.
Relax.
I just dropped my keys.
- Luckily the cover came off.
- You see?
Please ignore him.
Unbelievable!
Isn't she lucky?
An unprecedented win
at this early stage!
Ahead of us is the final round
of our quiz "One of a hundred".
Our grand prize is
this gorgeous apartment
in the city's prime location.
You can quit now and keep
all you've won so far.
Or risk losing it all if you fail,
except our consolation prize:
a food processor.
- Will you take the risk?
- Yes.
- You sure?
- Yes.
- Still time to quit.
- No.
I already know the number.
What's your guess?
No need to frown,
keep your pretty eyes open,
watch and... ta-dah!
Please concentrate.
Eight...
Seven...
Six...
Five...
Four...
Three... Hello!
Two..
One...
Eighty.
- Eighty, you said?
- Eighty, yes.
Eighty?
Sorry...
...dear channel,
eighty it is!
It's a scoop-the-pool win!
First time ever
in this show!
Ladies and gentlemen,
she takes it all!
The trip to Bora Bora,
the Mercedes, and the chic apartment!
Unthinkable.
137 shows to date
and just three trips.
What's the scam?
Just a moment.
Think, oh think!
Ten seconds left.
Think-o.
Cinco in Spanish is...
Five.
There's a bonus.
The correct answer will get you
ten boxes of Dry Martini.
Dry.
In German?
Three.
- Say it again.
- Three.
No need to frown.
Watch and... ta-dah!
Ochenta in Spanish?
Eighty.
They were in league.
Sue them.
- What about other numbers?
- They were prepared.
"You know".
Uno in Italian is one.
"It's hot in here".
Hot sounds like six in Hungarian.
T-shirt sounds like
nine in Hebrew.
"Hot T-shirt" for 69.
Sorry it's so late.
What?
Sorry. Like forty in Russian.
You'll win the court case.
You're a genius.
I'm observant.
I notice what I want to notice.
Thanks.
Thanks a million.
- Finder's reward will do.
- Reward?
10% of what you've saved.
Sure.
You'll end up broadcasting
for inmates, you rat!
Wow! Nice place to live...
I inherited it.
Thanks.
Hold on! Could I please
take a quick look?
I love old houses.
We'll be late.
Refresh my memory:
the tail wags the dog
or the dog wags the tail?
Alright.
You wait.
The dog wags he tail.
Wow! Beautiful stuccos!
I'm renovating them.
- You have experience?
- Some.
I studied art conservation.
- Would you consider selling it?
- Perhaps.
I'd offer a reasonable price.
The price won't be reasonable.
- He has to be around?
- Yes.
He keeps an eye on me.
I'm responsible for your safety.
- It's not necessary.
- Bruno knows better.
Bruno?
A guy I know.
You see the castle from here?
Partly.
Bruno!
I just love your Chinese!
Thank you.
Bruno...
Let's buy a flat in the Old Town.
In Lublin? Why?
It's so awfully cool!
Give me a break.
It's a Disney World
for fast food eaters.
Cool it may be
to have a beer there.
Besides, you have a home
a half-hour drive away.
It's yours.
And I prefer Lublin.
Kitty!
Gosh!
It's so...
I'm in seventh heaven!
I kid you not.
She inherited it.
It's a bargain.
The one who broke jail?
Says who?
- Dime told me.
- Bullshit. I hate him.
I like him.
He spies on me.
Protects you, I'd say.
Got a crush on me.
No! It may not show,
but he's gay.
Gay my ass.
You'd fall in love with the place.
I fell in love long ago.
With you.
Remember?
Stay put.
A swap?
Sorry?
My bag for yours.
Shove it.
Bad girl.
But I won't spank you.
I overreacted then, sorry.
One million euros.
A house in Tuscany.
No worries for the rest
of your life.
I'm a rebel.
Love unrest.
Wrong answer.
Money has a universal appeal because it's
the best tool against this world's misery.
- How did you find me here?
- Patience and open eyes.
Want to know?
Your friend tipped me off.
- Need a hand?
- I'm good.
You like Thai food?
Home-made.
Perfect timing!
I'm starved.
He must be very jealous.
Dime? He obeys Bruno.
Dime? Funny nickname.
It's Jeremi's last name.
I told Bruno you wanted
to sell the apartment.
If it's really a bargain,
he says he'll buy it.
It's not such a bargain.
I need money.
No room for negotiation?
You're not the buyer.
It's your buddy? Man?
Bruno.
What does he do?
Brainwashes the populice.
PopuLICE?
Bruno says so.
He's a spin doctor.
The PR guy who turns morons
into humans.
"The Lublin Voice"
from 1939?
I found it in a wall.
Construction workers
leave their mark that way.
What's this?
May I?
"The Spanish Diary".
September 20, 1936?
Marseilles. I'm boarding a ship
bound to Barcelona.
Likely one way,
as siding with the Republicans
is frowned on in Poland.
Awesome!
Looks like the layout of this place.
Krone? What's that?
My great grandpa's name.
Shoot a video.
There's something in there!
- Bingo!
- What is it?
- A mystery.
- Miss? You said bingo...
It's heavy.
Get it from me.
Careful!
Watch out.
Wow! Incredible!
Wait... Let me see!
A treasure.
Cool, isn't it?
It's gold.
Wait... Show me again.
How's that jailbird of yours doing?
She's no jailbird.
She fixes flats.
Old buildings have their secrets.
She found something in a wall?
Dime told you!
A little bird did.
So what is it?
Her home, her castle.
Well?
Will you buy the flat?
I'll sleep on it.
Wow! Incredible!
Wait... Let me see!
A treasure.
Cool, isn't it?
Crown? A real crown?
Look at the stones.
What's this?
A crown.
Can't you see?
Well, yes.
The real thing?
Sure. A royal crown.
In a wall? In Lublin?
Viki's great grandpa
brought it from Spain.
- It's Spanish then?
- No!
It's supposed to be
Casimir the Great's.
You're kidding me.
- Casimir the Great's crown?
- Brought from Spain.
Her great grandpa
recorded it in his diary.
I'm interested.
In the story or in Viki?
If she's a part of the story...
Get me that diary.
missing crown of Casimir
"Cielito Lindo".
Listen,
there's good news.
Bruno's connections say
we may have the diary published.
The author would be happy.
Put this on.
I have a slogan for us.
We've got one already.
Let's arise from the slumbers...
Let me finish.
Let's arise from the slumbers
to rule from our chambers!
You're the
Polish Socialist-National Party.
We? You're not a socialist?
Non-practicing.
Where's your carrot
for the Nationalists?
Okay...
Let's arise from the slumbers
to rule from our Polish chambers!
No.
The old one will do, trust me.
We'll see in a month's time.
- Please! Don't say "in a month's time".
- Why not?
You can't have a month's width
or height. It must be time.
Like I said.
You'll make
a perfect Joe Nice Guy.
The lack of education will help.
Just like the wife.
- My wife?
- Mine.
Excuse me.
This is Viki.
It's a private reception, invite-only.
And so I invited my friend.
You wanted the diary?
Provided it's to be published, Bruno.
Oh! We're on first-name terms!
I must see what it's worth.
Okay, I'll give it back tomorrow.
And buy the flat the next day.
Non sequitur.
Come along then.
Make yourself at home.
Homey? No. Glitzy!
So nice to see you again.
Hello.
Excuse me.
A selfie, if you don't mind...
Speaker of the House,
Ms. Zwaniecki!
Senator Pyzda!
Chairman Ermine!
Representative Rabble!
And our number one...
Casimir Lower!
Hip hip hurray!
Lower on top!
Don't praise your chickens!
You're all invited for
a traditional Polish dinner.
Let's have a word, Cas.
Don't COUNT your chickens...
You're right.
'Cause it's chicken soup.
May 1 5, 1937. Sierra Morena.
We're at the sanctuary
of Santa Maria de la Cabeza.
Pronounced /kabesa/.
We're at the sanctuary
of Santa Maria de la Cabeza.
Santa Maria de la Cabeza
May 15, 1937
Initially I thought we were here
to fight the fascists
and Moroccan dog soldiers,
who burned, looted and raped.
Unfortunately rape occurs
also on our side.
Comrade Commander!
Help!
- What the fuck are you up to?
- We're preparing a feast.
Help yourself, Comrade Commander.
We've picked the cutest.
- Leave these women alone.
- They're not women. They're nuns.
We're here to defend
the Republic, not to rape.
Why not enjoy both?
They're Franco's whores.
Let them go, right now.
It's an order.
Or else?
I'll shoot you down.
Who's next?
You killed him?
Your comrade?
He wasn't my comrade.
Bury him and we're off.
Damn! To shoot your own men?
They were communists. Listen.
I couldn't believe my eyes: the missing
crown of Casimir the Great!
In college we theorized about
its possible re-emergence,
but nobody ever suggested Spain.
Sir, we are very thankful.
You're welcome.
How could we reward you?
I'd like this crown.
- This crown?
- Please.
Yes, of course.
I'll get it!
Let's go!
How come the crown ended up
in that Spanish backcountry?
There must be an explanation.
From Cracow via Spain to Lublin?
Sounds like some third-rate
travel agency's slogan.
Listen,
in Lower's party there's
a historian and academic.
Find her.
Think about it. Nobody will buy it
and my offer expires on arrival.
No deal, Dime.
Jeremi.
Nobody will buy it, Jeremi,
'cause I'm not selling it.
Rather because it'll be too late.
And doing business with me
is sheer pleasure.
Okay.
Don't mess with me, bitch!
Looking for trouble?
If you insist...
What's Viki going to do
with the crown?
Return it to the owner.
Casimir the Great?
The state.
The people.
Or the family.
We could stage a televised event,
tied in with the elections and
the 700th anniversary of Lublin,
to make everybody happy.
She needs no ballyhoo.
- Because she escaped from jail.
- Here you go again.
We don't need her to be there.
Let her just give
or sell us the crown.
I can talk to her,
but no guarantee.
Am I to raid her
with antiterrorists?
Gee...
Convince her to deposit it...
sell it I mean, without hassle.
You put the crown before the flat?
The crown fits my strategy for
Lower, it'll make him win.
A socio-technical trick.
You'll see, the populice will love it.
How is to know it all?
To get one's drift
like it's your own?
Awfully cool.
Other people are fools, right?
I'll tell you something, kitty.
And read my lips,
because I won't repeat it.
Only 5% of all people are smart.
They set the tone.
The rest just follow.
Statistically I usually deal with
someone of the 95% dimwits,
so I don't give a shit.
And my self-assurance gives me
an initial advantage of several moves.
So you kind of run the globe?
Mr. Know-It-All! A genius.
A genius isn't one who knows it all,
but one who knows sooner.
The historian called back at last.
Her name's Elzbieta Dabrowski.
Kitty, I'm off!
What about lunch?
Well, you see...
Lower, the campaign...
What can I do?
Save it for dinner.
Love you!
Lower Casimir
Speak of the devil.
Good to see you, Bruno.
I had a dream
that I need to tell you.
Really? Go ahead.
In my dream I was a king.
Which means you'll be president.
And king later on.
Being just president sucks.
We need to choose a name for me.
You really mean it? Funny enough,
your name would mimeo the town's.
So?
Okay then, let's add "on-Vistula".
Lower Casimir
Oh shit!
The town has to be renamed.
- What's your middle name?
- Maria.
Maria was a queen.
Then perhaps King Casimir
Augustus Lower.
Yeah, sure. King Casimir Augustus
the Fifth Lower Molar.
Why fifth?
There've been four Casimirs so far.
Fifth's just great.
Because?
We have the Fifth Republic.
Right. A V-sign can stand
for both the Fifth and Victory.
Presidential victory.
Or for Volkswagen.
- That's neither here nor there.
- Sure. We don't want German words.
Okay, whatever.
Just remember: you're an ace.
I do remember.
I'd let them all have it.
You sure will. Relax.
When I'm in the mood.
So long.
What's this king thing?
He's off on a power trip.
I let him ride, it's his soft spot.
Who is it?
Bruno Volta.
Come on in.
It traveled far.
Who would have thought?
In brief, is this credible?
And logistically possible?
Casimir the Great did visit Lublin
a couple of times.
He even got sick once.
But there's no mention of the crown.
I have a theory about how it started,
but the rest is guesswork.
We'll appreciate some details.
Let's start at the beginning.
When Casimir the Great died,
who was elected king?
- You asking me?
- Every Pole knows it. Who?
Louis...
Louis the Hungarian?
Very good!
What dynasty?
Angevin.
Let's get it straight:
we're not here for a history test.
We want your opinion on the fact.
What fact?
Whether it's likely that Casimir's
crown was found in Spain.
His regalia disappeared
right after his death in 1370.
His successor's coronation
took place twelve days later.
Then Louis returned to Hungary
with the regalia.
Regalia?
The crown, scepter, orb,
spurs and the ring.
And then
Janko of Czarnkow,
Deputy Chancellor of the Treasury,
who represented the opposition
detesting the Angevins,
resolved to place a Piast
on the throne. A Pole!
Just like our party.
The opposition backed Wladyslaw
the White of Great Poland.
But they needed what?
The crown?
Very good.
Without the insignia the coronation
and coup d'etat were doomed.
And they basked in the Balaton sun.
By the Danube.
In Visegrad.
So what did Janko do?
Why not call him simply Jan?
Our forefathers used that form.
You mind?
Sounds gay.
Medieval Poland was the only country
in Europe free of pederasty.
Janko came up with a brilliant idea:
the funeral insignia.
- Placed in the tomb?
- The funeral insignia
were a replica
of the coronation insignia
or the other way round.
Cracow, the Royal Crypt,
November 20, 1370
Both sets were made
at the same time, looked identical
and could be used interchangeably.
But they were buried with the king.
Exactly.
What a stench!
The ring and the spurs!
Sorry.
The lid.
Anybody there?
Open up!
The night guard! Open up
in the name of the king!
You know what to do?
Open the door!
Disobedience will be punished.
Open in the name of the king!
To sum it up, the plot failed...
May I ask you to stop smoking?
Quit, you mean?
In this room.
Or I won't go on.
The stolen insignia were never found.
Probably the monk who took them
fled Poland and died
with his secret undisclosed.
- The crown's secure?
- Yes.
I need some time
to lead them astray.
- You want to get caught?
- I'll surrender to the guards.
You take cover, come back
later to get the crown
and give it over to our men
in Great Poland.
Consider it done.
Run. They're after me.
I'm dying...
Thus nobody ever knew
where the regalia were hidden.
Excuse me.
- Kitty?
- I have tickets for "Machia".
What's that?
A play about Machiavelli.
Comedy?
No. But they say it's cool. 9 PM.
I won't make it.
Take your jailbird instead.
Her name's Viki.
That's right, Viki.
Okay, if you won't...
Stop it!
Dime! You fucking thief!
You're not at the theater?
What are you doing?!
Hey!
DIGNITY AND PRIDE
Justyna!
Are you Justyna?
- Where's Cas?
- Meditating.
I thought about what you said.
I even checked the legal basis.
I'm meditating on the Passion.
What the fuck is your problem?
There's something poignant
about the crucifix.
Well, yes.
But if the Romans
hadn't crucified people,
if He had died on the stake,
not on the cross,
what symbol would we have?
The urn?
True.
Not much of a logo.
Anyways... I've checked
with the legal office.
Under the new constitution
it's possible to restore the monarchy
through a referendum.
Fantastic!
Or it can be decided by the National
Assembly with a 2/3 majority vote.
Or...
Read my lips...
By presidential decree.
The last one seems the fastest.
- But there's one condition.
- Well?
You must become president.
Yeah, sure.
But I'd opt for a transitory period:
the last president
would become regent.
Here's what I suggest.
That recovered crown...
can't leave this country.
We'll return it to the people.
You'll see to it.
As a patriot.
You'll give it back - as the last
descendant of the Piasts.
Piasts? Why not the Jagiellonians?
We'll trace you back to both.
Get the fuck up.
This chapel was founded by
Casimir the Great in the 1300s.
Look, medieval graffiti.
Wladyslaw Jagiello is... an asshole?
How so?
Your royal biography will make
Jagiello's a joke, I promise.
Will they buy it?
Repeat a lie a thousand times
and it becomes the truth.
But remember: presidency first.
Good morning.
- Hi.
- Hi, Viki.
- How are you today?
- Hello.
- Anybody in the swimming pool?
- Nobody.
Awesome!
That's outrageous.
To hit a woman!
I'll fix the son of a bitch.
- You must get the crown back!
- Go ahead, persuade them.
Let them pay at least.
I want the crown, not money.
And a plastic surgeon.
- You were to ask around.
- I know one.
I said a friend needed a make-over.
He said okay. Even though he's
booked up until next year.
Just a slight correction.
- Did you really escape from prison?
- From jail.
I was naive, got involved
in art theft.
By returning the crown
I'll clean up my record.
You sly bitch!
At last we can talk freely.
They're both sick,
Bruno and Dime.
One's sickly jealous,
the other sickly in love.
I keep wondering how come
you're with someone like Bruno.
He was so...
So old?
Amusing.
I met him two years ago in Verona.
I was offered a chef job there.
He begged me to return
and start my own business.
Said a chef could be fired,
an owner couldn't.
I fell in love.
He promised to help,
but never did.
I couldn't depend on anybody,
least of all on a guy.
Someday you'll open a restaurant
and I'll decorate it for you.
It's no shit, she really wants
to turn it over to the state.
To simply give it back?
She's a simple girl.
For free?
To make up
for what landed her in jail.
I'd rather you broke up
with that jailbird.
I don't want any scandal
before the elections.
Is that why you had Dime
beat her up?
Pardon?
He hit her and stole the crown.
- You're nuts!
- You claim it's not true...
I saw you hide it.
Look, kitty.
The deal was
you mind your business,
I mind mine.
Following the epic charge
of Polish cavalry at Somosierra Pass
Napoleon wants to reward the Poles
with something precious,
rightfully claimed as their own:
the missing crown of Casimir the Great.
Four days after the battle
Commander Krasinski
summons three trustworthy officers.
My dear rascals!
Madrid, Col. Krasinski's quarter,
December 4, 1808
We've won the shortest and the
cheapest battle of the campaign.
We opened the door to Madrid
in eight minutes!
'Cause Polish blood is cheap.
France will always remember us.
'Cause they keep saying
"as drunk as a Pole".
Infantry would've fought for weeks,
with lots of bloodshed.
The Emperor is ecstatic.
But they've written
it was a French charge.
French AND Polish.
But you know and people know
it was a Polish charge!
Under Kozietulski.
The Emperor called us the bravest
of the brave. This has to suffice.
As usual.
Who will remember it in the future?
In any case, the Emperor is willing
to give us something. Give back.
"It sat 200 years in St. Denis
treasury, but I think it's yours" -
that's what he said!
- The missing crown of Casimir the Great.
- You sound like an expert!
How did it end up in France?
He didn't say that.
Anyways...
I have a mission for you.
Early tomorrow I want you on your
way to Poland with this load.
To Warsaw?
Why not. But via Cracow.
Because when we finally
attack Russia...
Attack Russia? When?
When time is ripe.
And then Napoleon, on his way
to Moscow, will stop in Cracow
to be crowned King of Poland.
I want the crown of the last Piast
waiting for him there.
"As drunk as a Pole" not because
only Poles drink. The French drink too.
But the next day they're unsteady
in the saddle, while we,
even hung over, charge uphill,
seizing the pass and sixteen cannons.
That's why he told his troops:
if you must drink,
get as drunk as a Pole.
Long live the Emperor!
If they took the crown to Cracow,
how did it reappear in Spain?
It never made it to Cracow.
No?
Why?
Lubienski's diary says nothing,
but his companion's letters,
published forty years later,
explain what happened.
Venta Quemada
December 6, 1808
You ask why the three of us
were selected for the mission.
It's because we were
the luckiest of them all.
Until we had to face up to
a bunch of Spanish guerrilleros.
All right, Fernando?
Damn!
Catholic?
You're not French?
I'm Polish.
These suckers are lucky.
They're Polish.
Holy cats!
We are the lucky ones!
Look at this.
A treasure!
Poles...
What brought you all the way here?
You want to fight with us?
Why? We've done you no harm.
You have your own country.
I don't.
As your poet said:
Vivat Polonus,
unus defensor Mariae!
Long live the Pole,
the only defender of Mary.
Exactly.
Spared in exchange for the booty.
Like in "Forefathers".
You know the plot?
More than one. In this country
everybody's plotting.
Just don't pipe up like this
at a rally.
Mickiewicz depicts a similar situation.
Spaniards spare our men
seeing a holy medal.
- How did Napoleon get our crown?
- Does it matter now?
This crown will be
the cornerstone of your campaign.
Okay, but I'm hungry.
Excuse me.
Could I see your bill of fare?
My underwear?
The menu, please.
No problem.
- Use regular language.
- "Menu" is French.
I believe in our mother tongue,
our vocabulary.
Like allmouth.
- What?
- It's fish. Monkfish.
What the heck...
Looking for something?
Bruno sent me.
Should you need anything.
From you?
Like what?
I'm Jack of all trades.
Crown theft included.
Stay away from that jailbird.
- She'd sell you for a song.
- You judge by yourself?
I know the likes of her.
- You mustn't come in here.
- I'm in the doorway.
Go away.
Remember, Cas.
Success is 55% your body language
and looks,
38% - the way you talk
and your voice timbre,
and only 7% - your speech content.
So it's not that bad.
Then facial expression of the face
matters, right?
"Facial" is the same
as "of the face".
Oh, yeah?
Does "facial expression of the ass"
sound okay?
- It doesn't?
- No.
And remember, when you're about
to say something important or moving,
look straight into the camera.
Can I say: "The future no longer
looks the way it used to"?
Don't say that.
Hi! Got your money transfer, thanks.
Good to see you, guys!
Let me show you around my kingdom.
No need to introduce...
Our TV has brought good luck
to two presidents.
I'm in the right place then.
Please follow me.
Excuse me.
I need your advice. Investors complain
that the return on capital is too slow.
That my TV isn't growing enough.
I must convince them they're wrong.
Things like that take time.
Tell them about
the Sydney Opera House.
Apparently a failure - economically and
logistically. Completed 13 years late.
But today, when the name comes up,
everybody goes: what a success!
- Your TV won't be any different.
- You think so? Good.
We'll air a docu on the Sydney
Opera House. Thanks.
Go ahead.
Can't you dress up for work?
White shirt, jacket and tie?
It's not just yourself you represent.
Who else?
This station. Your employer.
I thought I was just
a supplement to the camera.
Fuck you!
Sporting our logo on your balls?!
My balls?
When you yell like this,
they're up here.
Keep it!
For being ballsy.
How come that six months ago
nobody had heard of you
and you end up with a 58%
chance of becoming president?
I'm unpredictable and steadfast.
Just like my electorate.
Like all Polish people.
You have a program?
I'm not a washing machine.
I believe in a vision.
- I'd like to go back to the roots.
- The Solidarity movement?
Further back. The days following
the introduction of...
- Martial law?
- Christianity.
Oh...
- That's way back...
- The Piast dynasty.
I think the abolition of monarchy
was a mistake.
King Mieszko I...
Prince Mieszko I. The first Polish
king was Boleslaw Chrobry.
- The future will show.
- Brush up on your history.
It's elementary school.
Anyways, I don't see why
we can't be a monarchy.
- Like Great Britain.
- He's going off-script.
The British crown is hereditary.
The Piasts have descendants, too.
You'll track them down?
Why would we need a king?
Kings personify the most sublime.
God, honor, fatherland.
We should revive and continue
the Piast crusades to the East.
To the West.
The Jagiellonians went east.
West, east...
Please, stop interrupting me.
It's not fair.
A king is God-anointed.
It gives him different prerogatives.
Namely?
The highest moral competence.
In the restored monarchy
the king deserves more power.
I deserve a drink.
More than the government, the
parliament? Absolute power?
As our history shows, a weak monarchy
brought about the state's decline.
The new constitution
will allow the president to restate...
reinstate the monarchy.
Bruno says the public loves
idiots, so he has a chance.
So, as president you'll issue
that decree and as king
you'll seek absolute power.
Maybe yes, maybe no.
"Maybe" So typical of that
National-Socialist Party of yours.
- Socialist-National!
- It's the same.
It sure isn't! We only want to give
Polish people their due.
Like what?
You want houses to change hands?
We don't question Jewish property,
- we only defend Polish claims.
- Fuck!
What's wrong?
Kill me, or I'll kill him.
Only a very cruel heart
could take you seriously.
Your unfounded generalizations of
a derogatory nature defy my intellect.
Well, wasn't that something?
We hosted a presidential candidate,
perhaps our future king,
Casimir Lower of the National-Socialist
Party "Dignity & Pride".
- Socialist-National, I insist.
- National-Socialist, read your banner.
- How did I do?
- Ambiguously.
Great. I looked into the camera.
Did he really give
the boy his Rolex?
See that bearded man in green?
It's Jan Laski. Active in
Polish-Lithuanian negotiations,
but wasn't there when
the Union Act was signed.
- Then why did Matejko paint him?
- Laski died nine years before.
But the artist recognized his merits
and painted him for posterity.
Is it fair to distort history?
For a good cause... Why not?
Really?
I think I've found the missing link
to the puzzle.
But we must go 234 years back,
to the times of Henry of Valois.
That French king of Poland
who fled to France.
- Having emptied the treasury.
- We were sacked at every opportunity.
Cracow, King's chambers
June 18, 1574
They'd lock him up for the night
to prevent his flight.
- Got the keys?
- Yeah.
Sire, this damn fortress is locked
and bolted.
The Polacks fear that
Your Majesty will escape.
Sire, hurry up! They forgot
about the kitchen doors.
This mess will get them into
trouble someday. Let's go!
Just a moment.
I'm not going to leave this behind.
The money France paid...
Not France. My mother!
She paid a fortune for my election.
What I was to spend here,
I'll spend much better in Paris!
To the kitchen, this way!
You really need this, Sire?
Your bags are heavy.
We don't have it in France yet.
You've no idea how useful it is.
A Polish invention.
We've lost our dear de Larchant!
Because of some stupid well!
Wait, there's something down there!
Leave it, Sire. Time's pressing.
Easy does it.
It looks like a royal crown.
I already have one,
but another won't hurt.
There's one more in France!
Are you trying to say that all that
sat a hundred years in a wall?
A floor. In an old,
bricked-over well, to be exact.
And not a hundred,
but 204 years.
The crown was stolen
and hidden
under the castle's kitchen floor
in November 1370.
- Who did it? That monk?
- Apparently.
204 years later
Henry of Valois chances upon it
while fleeing Poland.
234 years later it's discovered
by our cavalry men. In 1808.
But it falls into Spanish
hands again.
131 years later, in 1939, the crown
travels from Spain to Lublin.
Where it stays another 78 years
until this marathon across centuries
ends on the 700th anniversary
of Lublin.
All right...
The story hangs together.
Last question.
Is this crown the real thing?
Just a second...
Here you go.
The best expert I know of.
- Hi! How are you?
- What's up, Bruno?
Take your time, kitty. Meanwhile
we'll hold a short conference.
Professor Dabrowska sent us.
Excuse me.
CLOSED
Copper-silver alloy, gold-plated.
Emeralds, sapphires and crystals.
Not gold and diamonds? Bummer.
What's it worth?
For the jeweler - 100-150,000.
But it's like appraising a Rembrandt
by the value of the paint used.
Have you heard of the Millennium
treasure at Sroda Slaska?
Charles of Luxembourg's regalia.
Early 1300s.
How do you know that?
From the net. I'm interested.
You can read about it...
Here you are.
CODEWORD "CROWN"
Has eagle-shaped pendants
complete with a cameo.
- Must be worth several million bucks.
- A hundred.
Wow!
To finance war campaigns Charles IV
pawned his regalia with Moses.
Who?
A fabulously rich Jew from Sielce.
When the plague broke out, Moses
fled, burying the treasure in his cellar.
650 years later it was dug out
by Polish construction workers.
Very well then.
How much can this be worth?
I think that at least...
10-12 million euros.
I see...
Thank you so much.
Twelve million...
Dime!
Dime! The bike!
The bike!
What the fuck?
Nobody knew we'd be here.
Nobody!
You tipped them off.
Whom? Are you crazy?
Ouch! It hurts!
I repeat: did she do it?
I saw three funny guys.
She sent them, right?
Stop it!
Don't insult my intelligence.
I'll do you no harm,
just say if it's her.
She promised to help me
in exchange.
With what?
To start a restaurant.
Restaurant!
Fuck! For 12 million euros?!
Go on.
Tomorrow morning
she'll take it to Cracow.
- What time?
- 9:05.
I really don't know.
Cas said okay.
- I don't know.
- Now you do know.
Give me all there is.
- One million euros?
- I'll drop it off myself.
I can't decide on my own.
I have Lower's consent.
Lower?
He's not the one to decide.
No? Who then?
The chairman.
Ripoff.
Volta.
- It's about...
- I know.
- What's your name again?
- Tyczynski.
- Seemed to be different.
- I have two.
You'll get that million.
Deposit it with my accountant
in Warsaw tomorrow.
- You can bank on me.
- Not until it's in the bank.
Is Mr. Bruno Vol - TA here?
The VOL is stressed.
Shall we come back later?
The first syllable of my name
is stressed, not me.
Never mind.
- Give it...
- May I see your ID?
- You know me.
- It's required.
- You'll really pay her this much?
- Not a fucking penny.
But the bait must be substantial,
the money real and within reach.
When money's real, fish bite.
She'll donate the crown to the
electoral committee of the party.
Remember: all we do is legal.
We could easily cut this chain
and get the crown.
But I have a different suggestion.
Donate the crown to the Socialist-
National Party "Dignity & Pride".
Sign
and the million is yours.
This doesn't say I'm getting paid.
Better for you.
No need to report, no tax...
Hello!
You know what, kitty?
There's no mention of money,
so let's leave it at that.
Funny. Someone I know once heard
the same and she lost everything.
Good morning.
My name is Mariola.
I'll attend to you during this trip.
Coffee? Tea?
No, thank you.
Speak for yourself.
Dime! The suitcase!
Enough, young lady.
Violence never...
The suitcase!
Fuck!
Damn!
One million down the drain.
- Down the fucking road.
- Aren't you observant!
It's a fucking scheme!
Wait!
Thanks for all that was good.
Kitty.
What harm did I do you?
What harm did I do you?
You uneducated, stuck-up bitch?!
- How could she?
- 'Cause you treated her like an object.
You're what? Faggot? Feminist?
Her spokesman?
I got the crown for free.
It's you who got screwed.
Me?
To risk a million for a signature?
She recorded
finding the crown in the wall.
As to the risk,
I risked my fucking fee!
Okay.
Once we win the elections,
we'll have a replica made.
The real crown should sell for
ten million euros and we're good.
Let's get cracking.
No, don't!
Say you've recovered it
and as president you'll return it
to the people. Okay?
All right, whatever...
Remember: presidency first.
Otherwise it won't work out.
The last Polish king
died 218 years ago.
We've waited long enough
and the time has come.
Long live the new king!
King Casimir V.
Take off that coat and say
what you were to say.
I wanted a clever shortcut.
Clever?! I said presidency first.
Take that crown off!
No!
- This crown...
- We'll do a re-run.
belonged to my great predecessor,
Casimir like myself.
With God's help
I blocked its sale
and shipping abroad.
I promise the Polish people...
Who the fuck will buy it?
Any comments?
I'm from Cracow and know that
the crown's sitting in the tomb.
How do you mean?
When they dug out the regalia
in the 19th century
they made a replica.
It's on display in the castle.
- Give it to me.
- No!
Come on!
There's an inscription.
Made in China?
Stan wants to see you.
Who the fuck is Stan?
Our treasurer. It's about
the money entrusted to you.
Look what you've done!
Get me Professor Dabrowska!
She'll explain.
On camera, I suggest.
Here we are.
Hello.
You wanted to see me.
You? Who are you?
Professor Dabrowska.
Who? Oh, fuck!
- Pardon me?
- May I see your ID?
No problem.
The other was on Wikipedia,
I saw her photo.
There's this one now.
So you can insert a fake,
then delete it?
The net can be tricky.
Some things did happen.
There was a theft attempt,
but it failed.
Janko sneaked into the crypt,
unaware of being followed.
And so, the regalia were saved.
How's that?!
He was caught.
And banished.
But Henry of Valois got that crown!
He couldn't have!
The crown sat in the crypt,
buried 200 years before.
So the whole story
is a fake.
Although some of our cavalry
did rape nuns.
Impossible.
One question.
About our party funds...
Not now!
It's urgent. Without that money
our campaign is doomed.
Then I could lose
in spite of the backing?
Bruno, say something!
You're here to see me?
The door wasn't locked?
No, it wasn't.
We came to see Viki Kowalski.
She did the ceiling last week.
Victoria? The arts student.
She lived here
while I was abroad.
She renovated the stuccos.
But her last name's Zawistowski.
- Zawistowski?
- Yes.
You know where she's now?
I have her phone number.
Zawistowski?
Could be her daughter?
It's been many years... Who knows.
Funny, they plant a stolen painting
in your lady's car and you do nothing.
I didn't realize the cops knew
and would nab her at the border.
Every tragedy stems from stupidity.
Your own bright idea?
A quote.
Tell me more.
Well?
Bruno's in pieces, hanging outside
"your" apartment.
Okay, Viki, time's running out.
I just love this job!
Tea?
- Cookies?
- Yes, please!
I'll end up fat.
I can't believe I did it.
- Did what?
- Walked out on Bruno.
Better late than later.
Excuse me.
There are three of us.
A practical joke.
Eat up the cookies
and off we go.
I've got to return the keys
before Volta shows up.
Ready?
No, just do it.
- There's been no prison break here.
- There was one last week.
Sirens went off, guards popped out...
With dogs.
A new guard
set them off by mistake.
The others played it by the book.
But it was a false alarm.
Then Viki Zawistowski
has never been here.
This kind of information
is confidential.
And Marta?
- Marta Zawistowski?
- Confidential again.
Marta has just been released.
I know.
Hi, Bruno! Long time...
Kitty?
Kitty waited in the cage for
the help you promised... In vain.
And so is no longer your kitty.
How goes it?
How was I to know?
Remember, in Croatia I said...
Why on earth...
Kitty?
I've heard you're up the creek.
Private life? Business? Huh?
Then we're even.
Too late for a volt, Mr. Volta.
But why, after all this time?
Father's death hurts less
than the loss of your patrimony.
Shakespeare?
Niccolo Machiavelli.
You're fucking well-read.
I've seen that play, "Machia".
Marta wasn't my fault.
You let your woman
carry funny stuff?
It was a summer fling, week-long.
Why should it haunt me till now?
Photoshopped. Damn!
CLASS OF 2007
They'd met before?
Aren't you both something?
And Xavery.
He inserted the links.
And deleted them,
which was more important.
- Xavery's always helped you.
- That's what cousins are for.
So where would you like
to go, Mom?
Somewhere I've never been.
The new airport!
Three tickets for the next flight to...
To?
Someplace cool.
You mean?
Sunny.
Cool and sunny?
How about...
What?
I've just recalled.
The print on her back.
"Revenge for the wrong done" -
in Japanese.
Should've studied history, moron!
It can't be true.
No fucking way.
But, as someone said, revenge is
the sweetest dish cooked in hell.
Perhaps you're right.
We'll cook Mr. Volta.
We have a visitor.
Good evening.
I came to get my money back.
Plus 5% for a day's delay.
Five percent? 200 grand?
That's a rip-off rate for
borrowing party money!
Party money?
As your backer
I contribute my own money,
which you needed but didn't have.
And don't have, it seems.
- When we get to the feeding trough...
- "When"? "If" is a better word.
Things don't always turn out
the way we want them to.
My man will contact you about it.
He can call me next week.
He's already here.
Good luck.
For your convenience
the debt has been converted into
zlotys and amounts to 4,410,000.
I heard 4,200,000!
We're 3 minutes into the new day.
So it's another 5% off the 4,200,000,
which adds up to 4,410,000.
Deduct my one-million fee.
Your fee is your party's business.
I'm dealing only with
what you owe my boss.
I'll pay my debt when Lower
becomes president.
Then you won't need any loans.
But now things are what they are.
This house
is worth maybe
3 million.
What?! At least twice as much.
When you have a buyer.
Not when you need to sell.
I don't need to sell.
We'll get back to that.
Still 1 ,200,000 missing...
What's in your garage?
A Maserati and a SUV.
About one million.
When you have a buyer.
But if you need to sell...
200 grand at most.
No, this can't be happening...
- I've heard you have a boat?
- Yes. Worth 2,500,000.
Throw it into the bargain
and we're even.
Oh yeah?
And what am I left?
Health. That's the bottom line.
All the rest is complementary.
Here's our donation agreement.
Just sign.
No! Like hell I will!
You can't force me.
Perhaps we can work it out.
Right here to start with.
It's upside down, things are
no longer the same,
a single head wants to have
two crowns to wear.
A sudden turn will change
the rules of the game,
I plunge into this illusion
and walk ahead without haste,
there's no more to be seen,
imagination runs dry,
seek me, oh, seek me!
Twelve million euros...
Dime!
Okay, okay. We'll laugh
after a good shot.