Сталкер (4К, фантастика, реж. Андрей Тарковский, 1979 г.)

¶¶

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Why did you take my watch?

Where are you going, I ask you?

You gave me your word.

I believed you.

Okay, you don't want to think about yourself, but what about us?

Think about your child.

She didn't have time to get used to you yet.

And you're old again.

After all, I've become an old woman.

You've caught me.

Quiet.

You'll wake Mortyshka.

I can't wait for you all the time.

I'll die.

After all, you were going to work.

You were promised a normal human job.

I'll be back soon.

Oh, you'll go back to prison.

But now you will not be given five years, but ten.

You will not have anything for all these ten years.

No prison, nothing.

And I will die for these ten years.

God, prison.

I'm always in prison.

I won't let you in.

I won't let you in.

Get out of here!

Get out of there!

Be damned the day I met you, scum!

May God damn you with such a child!

And I'm a scum because of you, scum!

Mom...

I hate you!

My dear, the world is inextricably boring.

And that's why there's no telepathy, no ghosts, no flying saucers.

Nothing like that can happen.

The world is governed by cast-iron laws.

It's inextricably boring.

And these laws, alas, do not break.

They do not know how to break.

And do not rely on flying saucers.

It would be too interesting.

And what about the Bermuda Triangle?

You're not going to argue that...

I will argue.

There is no Bermuda Triangle.

There is the ABC triangle, which is equal to the A-prime, B-prime, C-prime triangle.

Do you feel how boring this statement is?

In the Middle Ages, it was interesting.

In every house, there was a fireman.

In every church, there was God.

People were young.

And now every fourth old man.

It's boring, my angel.

Oh, how boring.

Well, you said it yourself, that the zone, the origin of the super-civilization, which... Also, probably, boring.

Also, some laws, triangles.

And no smoke, and of course, no God.

Because if God is the same triangle, then I just don't know.

It's for me.

Beautiful.

Goodbye, my dear friend.

I'm sorry.

This lady kindly agreed to go with us to the Zone.

She's a brave woman.

Her name is...

I'm sorry, your name is...

So are you really a stalker?

I'll explain everything in a moment.

I just drank.

That's what half of the population does.

The other half drinks.

Women and children are included.

And I just drank.

Drink, drink, it's still early.

Well, maybe a glass on the way?

What do you think?

Get rid of it.

Oh, I see.

The dry law.

The alcoholism of the people.

Well, shall we drink some beer?

Is he with us?

No, he's sober.

He needs something, too.

Are you really a professor?

If you like.

Well, in that case, allow me to introduce myself.

My name is...

Your name is Writer.

Okay, but what's my name?

Your name is Professor.

I see.

I'm a writer, and for some reason everyone calls me Writer.

And what do you write about?

Oh, about readers.

Obviously, there's nothing else to write about.

Of course, there's nothing else to write about.

Are you a chemist?

More like a physicist.

That's probably boring, too.

Searching for the truth.

She's hiding, and you're looking for her everywhere, digging here, digging there.

In one place they dug, and the core is made of protons.

In another place they dug, and it's beautiful.

The triangle ABC is equal to the triangle A'B'C'.

But I have a different case.

I'm digging out this very truth, and at this time something is being done with it, that I was digging out the truth.

And I dug out a bunch, excuse me,

And I'll tell you what.

It's good for you.

But there is some antique pot in the museum.

At one time, they threw objects into it.

And now it evokes the general admiration for the laconicity of the drawing and the unique shape.

And everyone is laughing.

And suddenly it turns out that he is not ancient, but some joker put him up to archaeologists.

For fun.

Oh, and they, oddly enough, die.

Preciators.

And you think about it all the time?

God save me.

I rarely think at all.

I don't like it.

It's impossible to write and at the same time think about success or, on the contrary, about failure.

On the other hand, if I won't be read in a hundred years, then what the hell should I write about?

Tell me, professor, why did you get involved in this story?

Why do you need the Zone?

Well, I'm a scientist in some sense.

And what do you need?

Fashionable writer.

Women, probably, hang on their necks with thorns.

Inspiration, professor, lost inspiration.

I'm going to interrogate.

So what are you, written off?

What?

Yes, perhaps, in some sense.

Do you hear?

This is our train.

Did you remove the roof from the car?

Yes, I did.

Luger.

If I don't come back, go to my wife.

Damn, I forgot to buy cigarettes.

Don't come back.

What?

You can't.

You're all like that.

Like what?

You believe in all this nonsense.

You'll have to leave it for another day.

Are you really a scientist?

I'll be right back.

Don't move.

Look, there's no one there.

Hurry up, for God's sake.

There's no one there.

Go to that exit.

What are you, a writer?

Look around, please.

Have you forgotten the canister?

It's full here.

I told you before.

It's all a lie.

I don't care about inspiration.

And then how do I know how to name what I want?

And how do I know that in fact I don't want what I want?

Or, let's say, that I really don't want what I don't want?

These are all some unthinkable things.

If you name them, their meaning disappears, melts, dissolves.

Like a jellyfish in the sun.

Have you ever seen it?

My conscience wants the victory of vegetarianism all over the world.

And the subconscious is gnawing at a piece of juicy meat.

And what do I want?

Me!

To world domination, at the very least.

And why is the locomotive in the zone?

He's serving the bars.

He won't go any further.

They don't like to go there.

Everyone is on their places.

Everyone is on their places.

We are on duty, quickly.

And let the TV turn off.

Hurry up!

Listen, go and see if there's any rubber on the way.

What rubber?

Go, go.

Go back.

I'll do it myself.

Let go of your backpack.

It's in the way.

You're the only ones I look at, like I'm on a walk.

If they touch anyone, don't shout, don't rush.

If they see you, they'll kill you.

Then, when it's all over, crawl back to the camp.

They'll pick you up in the morning.

And they won't catch up with us?

No way.

They're afraid of her like fire.

Of who?

Well, here we are at home.

It's so quiet.

This is the quietest place in the world.

You'll see for yourself.

It's so beautiful here.

There's no one here.

We're here.

But three people can't do everything here in one day.

Why can't they?

They can.

It's strange.

It doesn't smell of flowers.

Ilya, don't you feel it?

The swamp stinks.

I can feel it.

No, no, it's a river.

It's a river.

There was a flower garden nearby.

And Dikobrasov took it and trampled it out.

But the smell remained for a long time.

For many years.

And why did he trample it?

I don't know.

I also asked him why.

And he said, you'll understand later.

I think he just hated the Zone.

What's his last name?

Dikabras?

No, his nickname is the same as yours.

He used to bring people to the Zone for years, and no one could stop him.

My teacher.

He opened my eyes.

They didn't call him Dikabras then, they called him Teacher.

And then something happened to him.

I think he was just punished.

Help me, there are nuts here, these bandages need to be tied to them.

And I'll walk, perhaps.

I need to...

Just don't walk around here too much.

Where is he going?

Maybe he just wants to be alone.

Why?

It's uncomfortable for the three of us here.

It's a date with the Zone.

He's a stalker.

And what should we do?

You see, stalker in some sense is a vocation.

I imagined him differently.

What?

Well, leather stockings, chingachgooks, big snakes.

His biography is scarier.

He sat in prison several times, got injured here, and his daughter is a mutant.

A victim of the zone, as they say.

Without legs, she's like...

What about that wild boar?

And what does it mean, was he punished?

Is it a figure of speech?

One fine day, the wild boar came back from here and suddenly became rich.

Unthinkably rich.

Is that a punishment?

And in a week he hung himself.

Why?

Quiet.

What is this?

¶¶

About 20 years ago, a meteorite seemed to have fallen here.

It burned the village to the ground.

They were looking for this meteorite, and of course, they didn't find anything.

Why, of course?

Then people started to disappear here.

They came here and didn't come back.

Well?

And finally, they decided...

meteorite, this is not quite a meteorite.

And to begin with, they put barbed wire so that the curious do not risk.

Here are the rumors that somewhere in the zone there is a place where wishes are fulfilled.

Well, of course, the zone began to be guarded like an eye.

Because few people have any desires.

And what was it, if not a meteorite?

Well, I say it's unknown.

Well, what do you think?

I don't think anything.

Anything.

The message of humanity, as one of my colleagues says.

Or a present.

Wow, a present.

Why did they need it?

To make us happy.

And flowers again.

They bloom, but for some reason they don't smell.

I'm sorry I left you here, but it was still too early to go.

Oh, did you hear that?

Maybe it's true that they live here?

Who?

You told me this story yourself.

These tourists who were standing here when the Zone appeared.

No one's in the zone, and it can't be helped.

Well, it's time.

And how are we going to get back?

We can't go back here.

What do you mean?

Let's go as we agreed.

Every time I give directions, it's dangerous to deviate from this direction.

The first landmark is over there, the last column.

Go, go first, Professor.

Now it's your turn.

Try to go one step at a time.

I was still a boy.

Then everyone thought that someone wanted to conquer us.

Smart people.

Give it to me, Professor.

Are you a writer?

Thank you.

Your room is over there.

Yes, but the hand must be very long.

We don't have that.

Leave it, you can't!

Don't touch it!

Don't touch it, you!

What's wrong with you?

Are you drunk?

What's wrong with you?

I told you, this is not a place for a walk.

The Zone demands respect for itself, otherwise it will punish you.

Punish?

Just try something else.

Don't you have a language?

I asked you.

Should we go there?

Yes, go up and then to the left.

But we won't go here.

We'll go around.

What's that for?

They don't go here.

The straight path is not the shortest in the area.

The further, the less risk.

What if we go straight?

Is it fatal?

I told you it's dangerous.

Not very.

It's dangerous, too.

But they don't walk here.

Who cares where they don't walk?

What if I...

Listen, you... ...walk around somewhere, and here it's all in front of my nose.

And there's a risk here, and there's a risk there.

What the hell?

You know, you're very easy-minded when it comes to this.

I'm tired of all these nuts and bolts.

Well, you can have them as you like, and I'll go.

The wind is rising.

Do you feel the grass?

Well, even more so then.

What do you mean, even more so?

Wait.

Put your hands away.

All right.

Let the professor be a witness then.

I didn't send you there.

You go on your own.

On your own will.

On my own will.

What else?

Nothing.

Go.

And may God give you good luck.

Listen, if you suddenly notice something, or even just feel something special, come back immediately, otherwise... Just don't throw a piece of iron at my back!

What do you want?

What do you want?

Why did you stop him?

What?

I thought it was you.

What happened?

Why did you stop me?

I didn't stop you.

And who?

You?

God knows.

And you're good, Mr. Shakespeare.

It's scary to go forward, and it's a shame to go back.

So he commanded himself, not by his own voice.

He even got out of fear.

What?

Stop it.

Why did you steal my bottle?

Stop it.

I demand an end!

The Zone is a very complex system of traps.

And all of them are mortal.

I don't know what is happening here in the absence of a human.

But if people appear here, everything comes into motion.

Existing traps disappear, new ones appear.

Safe places become impassable.

And the path is made either simple and easy, or it gets confused to the point of impossibility.

This is the Zone.

It may even seem capricious, but at every moment it is as if we made it ourselves, with our own state.

I won't lie, there were cases when people had to return from the middle of the road unscathed.

There were also those who died at the very threshold of the rooms.

But everything that happens here depends not on the Zone, but on us.

She misses the good ones, and tears the bad ones off their heads.

I don't know, I'm not sure.

It seems to me that she misses those who have no hope left.

Not bad or good.

Unhappy.

But even the most unhappy is shaking here if he does not know how to behave.

You're lucky.

She warned you, or she might not have warned you.

You know, I think I'll wait for you here.

Until you go back.

Unhappy.

It's impossible.

I assure you, I have sandwiches with you, a thermos.

First of all, you can't stand here without me.

And secondly... And secondly, they don't come back here the way they come.

And I'd still prefer... Then we'll all go back together.

I'll give you the money.

Of course, I'll give you some money for your worries.

You're sober, aren't you, Professor?

All right, throw your nut.

Thank you.

Hey, where are you?

Come here.

Are you tired?

Oh, my God.

Again, it seems, the instruction will read, judging by the tone.

Let what is planned to be fulfilled.

Let them believe.

And let them laugh at their passions.

After all, what they call passion is in fact not a spiritual energy, but only friction between the soul and the outer world.

And most importantly, let them believe in themselves and become helpless like children.

Because weakness is great, and strength is nothing.

When a man is born, he is weak and flexible.

When he dies, he is strong and rough.

When a tree grows, it is tender and flexible.

And when it is dry and hard, it dies.

Roughness and strength are the satellites of death.

Flexibility and weakness express the freshness of being.

Therefore, what has hardened will not win.

Come here.

We're going to have a good time.

Soon there will be a dry tunnel, it's easier there.

Look, don't get me wrong.

Are we already leaving?

Of course.

Why?

Wait, I thought you just wanted to show us something.

What about my backpack?

What happened to the backpack?

What happened?

I left it there.

I didn't know we were leaving.

Now you can't do anything.

No, what?

We have to go back.

It's impossible.

I can't go without a backpack.

They don't come back here.

No one has ever come back here on the same road.

Just spit on this backpack.

What do you have there?

Diamonds?

You've forgotten where you're going.

The room will give you everything you want.

That's right.

They throw backpacks from the top of their heads.

How far is this room?

200 meters straight.

But there are no straights here.

Leave your crawling empiricism, Professor.

The miracle is beyond empiricism.

Remember how St. Peter almost drowned.

Go, writer.

Where to go?

On this ladder.

Professor, where are you?

Thank you.

Well, here's the dry tunnel.

Wow, it's dry.

It's a local joke.

Usually you have to swim here.

Wait, where is the professor?

What?

The professor is missing!

Professor!

Hey, professor!

What's wrong with you?

He was following you all the time.

He must have lost his way and got lost.

He didn't get lost.

He must have come back for the backpack.

Now he can't get out.

Maybe we should wait?

You can't wait here.

Everything changes here every minute.

You'll have to wait together.

Look, what is it?

Where did it come from?

I explained it to you.

What did I explain?

This is the zone, do you understand?

The zone.

Let's go faster.

Let's go here.

I, of course, am very grateful to you that you only... How did you get here?

Most of the way I... crawled on fours.

Incredible.

But how did you manage to overtake us?

How to overtake us?

I came back here with a backpack.

Where did our nut come from?

Oh, my God.

This is a trap.

This is where Dekabras hung the nut on purpose.

How did the Zone let us in?

Oh, my God.

I won't take a step until I'm in good shape.

That's it.

Rest.

Just stay away.

From this nut, just in case.

I thought it was a bad thing that the professor would not get out.

I never know what kind of people I lead in advance.

Everything turns out only here, when it's too late.

Well, it's okay.

The main thing is that the professor's bag with underpants is intact.

Well, carry your nose, strangers postmen, if you don't understand.

And what to understand here, actually?

Think of Benom, Neton.

I also have psychological abysses.

In the institute, we are on a bad account.

The funds for the expedition are not given to us.

Let's fill our backpack with all sorts of manometers and shit-meters.

Get into the zone illegally.

And we'll believe all the local miracles with the help of algebra.

No one in the world has a clue about the zone.

And here, of course, there's a sensation.

The television, the fans are whining, the laurel wreaths are being carried.

Our professor appears, all in white, and announces, Mene, mene, tekel, uparsin.

Well, naturally, everyone rubs their mouths and shouts to the choir.

Nobel Prize for him!

Writer, you are stifled.

Psychologist, home-grown.

You would paint the walls in the assortment.

Trouble without a gift.

Sluggish, sluggish, you do not know.

You don't know how it's done.

All right, I'm going for the Nobel Prize.

And why are you in a hurry?

Do you want to give humanity pearls of your purchasing inspiration?

I don't give a damn about humanity.

In all your humanity, only one person interests me.

That is, me.

Am I worth something, or am I the same shit as some others?

What if you find out that you are really... You know what, Mr. Einstein?

I don't want to argue with you.

Truth is born in arguments, even if it's cursed.

Listen, Chinganjgook.

After all, you brought a lot of people here.

Not as many as I would have liked.

Well, anyway, that's not the point.

Why did they come here?

What did they want?

Most likely, happiness.

Well, yes, but what kind of happiness?

People don't like to talk about the secret.

And then it's not about you, it's not about me.

In any case, you're lucky.

And I haven't seen a single happy person in my whole life.

Neither have I.

They come back from the room, I take them back, and we never meet again.

After all, wishes don't come true instantly.

And you yourself never wanted this room.

Uh, popользоваться.

А?

А мне и так хорошо.

Professor, listen.

It's all about buying inspiration.

Let's say I enter this room and return to our God-forgotten city of genius.

Are you watching?

But a person writes because he is tormented, he doubts.

He always has to prove to himself and others that he's worth something.

And if I know for sure that I'm a genius, why would I write then?

What do I care?

In fact, I have to say, we exist in order to...

Do me a favor and leave me alone.

Let me sleep a little.

I haven't slept all night.

Leave your complexes to yourself.

In any case, all this is your technology.

All these houses, the wheels.

And...

and so on, to work less and eat more.

It's all crutches and prostheses.

And humanity exists to create works of art.

It's selfless, unlike all other human actions.

Great illusions, images of absolute truth.

Are you listening to me, Professor?

What are you talking about?

People are dying of hunger.

You fell off the moon.

And these are our mental aristocrats.

You don't know how to think abstractly.

Aren't you going to teach me the meaning of life?

And think at the same time.

It's useless.

You're a professor, but a dark one.

So there was a great earthquake, and the sun became dark as a crescent, and the moon became like blood, and the stars of the sky fell to the ground, like a smoker, shocked by a strong wind, she drops her immature smoker.

And the sky was hidden like a scroll.

And all the mountains and islands moved from their places.

And the kings of the earth, and the nobles, and the rich, and the thousand leaders, and the strong, and all the free,

hid themselves in the caves and in the gorge of the mountains.

And they say to the mountains and to the stones, Fall on us and hide us from the face of the one sitting on the throne and from the wrath of Agnes.

For the great day of his wrath has come, and who will be able to resist?

¶¶

Thank you.

¶¶

Thank you.

They went to the village of Stadyna 60, as it was called, and talked to each other about all these events.

When they talked, they argued with each other.

And he himself approached them, but their eyes were closed, so they didn't recognize him.

Why do you argue with each other?

Why are you so sad?

One of them... Are you awake?

You were talking about the meaning of our life, of art's selflessness.

Let's talk about music.

It has nothing to do with reality.

Actually, it has nothing to do with reality, mechanically.

with an empty sound, without any associations.

And nevertheless, music, by some miracle, penetrates into the soul.

What resonates with us in response to the harmonious noise?

And turns it into a source of high enjoyment for us?

And unites?

And amazes?

What is all this for?

And most importantly, to whom?

You answer to no one.

And not for what?

So selfless.

No.

Hardly.

After all, everything ultimately has its own meaning.

And meaning, and reason...

What's that?

Go there?

Unfortunately, there's no other way.

It's a bit dull, isn't it, Professor?

I don't want to be the first one here.

A big snake can't be a volunteer.

I'm sorry.

I think we need to pull the harness.

Don't you mind?

No, I'd prefer a volunteer here.

Do you have matches?

Thank you.

It's going to be a long one.

Pull it.

A long one.

I wasn't lucky this time.

Would you at least throw the nut in there?

Of course.

Please.

More?

All right.

I'm coming.

Hurry up, Professor.

There's...

There's a door.

Now go there.

Open the door and come in.

It's me again.

And I'm coming in... You've been slain.

Come on, you can't stay here for long.

What do you have there?

You can't stay here with a weapon.

You'll die anyway, and you'll kill us too.

Remember the tanks.

Leave me alone, I beg you.

Don't you understand?

If anything happens, I'll get you out of here.

Otherwise, I beg you, who are you going to shoot at?

Go, go, we don't have much time.

There's water here.

It's okay.

Hold on to the railing and go down.

Just don't go anywhere.

Wait upstairs at the exit.

I hope you don't have anything like that?

What?

Well, it looks like a gun.

No, at the very least I have an ampoule.

What ampoule?

Oh, my God.

Did you come here to die?

Just in case.

Writer, back!

Come back, you killer!

I told you to wait at the entrance!

Stop, don't move!

It's all your fault.

It's all your fault.

Pampa was the first one to do it.

And then he got in, out of fear.

Here's another experiment.

Experiments, facts, the truth in the last instance.

There are no facts at all, and it's been here for a long time.

Everything is made up by someone here.

All this is someone's idiotic invention.

Don't you feel it?

And you, of course, need to know whose.

Why?

What's the point of your knowledge?

Whose conscience will get sick of them?

Mine?

I have no conscience.

I only have nerves.

Some bastard will scold me early, another bastard will praise me even earlier.

If you put your soul and heart into it, they will devour both your soul and your heart.

If you take out the filth from your soul, they will devour the filth.

They are all well-educated.

They all have sensory hunger.

And they all hang around.

Journalists, editors, critics, some continuous women.

And everyone demands, come on, come on.

What kind of writer am I, if I hate to write?

If for me this is a pain, painful, shameful activity, something like squeezing out hemorrhoids.

I used to think that someone was getting better from my books.

But I don't need anyone.

I'll die, and in two days they'll forget me and start eating someone else.

I thought they'd redone me quietly, but they did it in their own way.

In the past, the future was only a continuation of the present.

And all the changes wandered somewhere beyond the horizons.

And now the future has merged with the present.

Are they ready for this?

They don't want to know anything.

They just eat.

Well, here you are.

My God, now you will live a hundred years.

Yes.

Why not forever?

Like an eternal life.

You must be a wonderful man.

I almost had no doubt.

But yet you endured such torment.

This pipe is a terrible place, the most terrible in the area.

We call it a meat grinder, but it's worse than any meat grinder.

How many people died here?

And the wild boar put his brother here.

He was so delicate and talented.

Here, listen.

So the summer passed, As if it never happened.

It's warm in the heat, But that's not enough.

All that could happen, Like a five-leaf leaf, Fell right into my hands.

But that's not enough.

Po naprasnu ni zlo, ni dobro ni propalo, Vse gorelo svetlo, tolko etovo malo, Zhizn brala pod krylo, beregla i spasalo, Mne i vpravdo vizlo, tolko etovo malo, Listyev ni obozhglo, vetok ni oblomalo, Den promyt, kak steklo,

Only this is not enough.

It's good, isn't it?

This is his poem.

What are you saying?

Why are you hesitating?

It's good.

I'm just...

It's boring to watch.

You can't imagine how happy I am.

It doesn't happen often that everyone comes and goes.

You behaved correctly.

You're good, kind, honest people.

I'm proud that I didn't make a mistake.

He, you see, is glad to death that everything turned out well.

Fate, Ozone... You see, I'm a wonderful man.

And you think I didn't see how you gave me two long matches?

No, you don't understand.

Well, of course, how could I?

I'm sorry, Professor, but I don't want to say anything bad, but for some reason this bastard chose you as his lover.

Why are you doing this?

And I, as a second-rate creature, put in this pipe

Meat grinder.

What a word.

What right do you have to decide who lives and who goes to the meat grinder?

I don't choose anything.

Believe me, you chose it yourself.

What did I choose myself?

One long match from two long ones?

Matches are nonsense.

Even there, under the nut, the zone missed you and it became clear.

If someone is destined to go to the meat grinder, then it is you.

And we are for you.

Well, you know...

I never choose for myself.

I'm always afraid.

You can't imagine how scary it is to make a mistake.

But someone has to go first.

Yes.

No, this is not a clinic.

You see, someone has to go first.

How do you like it?

Don't touch it!

The 9th laboratory, please.

One minute.

I hope I didn't disturb you.

What do you want?

Just a few words.

You hid it, I found it.

The old building, the 4th bunker.

Do you hear me?

I immediately report to the security corps.

You can.

You can report, you can write your reports to me, you can send my employees to me, but only late.

I'm two steps away from that very place.

Do you hear me?

Do you understand that this is the end for you as a scientist?

Well, then rejoice.

Do you understand what will happen?

What will happen if you dare?

You're scaring me again.

Yes, I was afraid of something all my life.

I was even afraid of you.

But now I'm not afraid at all, I assure you.

My God, you're not even a herostrat.

You just wanted to make fun of me all my life for the fact that 20 years ago I slept with your wife.

Now you're delighted that you finally managed to get along with me.

All right, go, do your thing.

Ugliness.

Do not hang up the phone.

Prison is not the most terrible thing that awaits you.

The main thing is that you yourself will never forgive yourself for this, I know.

I just see how you hang on your own rags.

What are you doing there, Professor?

Can you imagine what will happen when everyone will believe in this room?

And when will they all come here?

After all, it's a matter of time.

Not today, but tomorrow.

And not tens, but thousands.

All these failed emperors, great inquisitors, Führers of all kinds, and so-called benefactors of the human race.

And not for money, not for inspiration, but to change the world.

No, I don't take such things.

I understand.

What can you understand?

You're a funny man.

After all, you're not the only stalker in the world.

No one of the stalkers knows what they come here with and what those you lead go away with.

And the number of unmotivated crimes is growing.

Is this not your job?

And military coups.

And the mafia in the government is not your client, is it?

And the lasers?

And all these superbacteria?

All this disgusting filth, for a while hidden in the safes?

Stop this sociological slander.

Do you really believe in these fairy tales?

In the scary ones, yes.

In the good ones, no.

And in the scary ones, as much as you want.

Yes, leave it, leave it.

There can't be a single person with such hatred or, let's say, such love, which would spread to the whole of humanity.

Well, money, women, well, revenge, so that the boss of the car would move.

Well, it's back and forth.

And power over the world, a just society, the kingdom of God on earth.

This is not a desire, but an ideology, an action, a concept.

Unconscious compassion is not yet able to be realized.

Well, like an ordinary instinctive desire.

No, can there be happiness due to the misfortunes of others?

I can see very clearly that you are thinking of destroying humanity with some unimaginable good deed.

And I am completely calm.

For you, for myself, and even more so for humanity.

Because nothing will come out of you.

In the best case, you will get your Nobel Prize.

Or, most likely, you will get something that you don't even think about.

Something that you don't even think about.

A phone.

You dream about one thing, and you get something completely different.

Why would you do that?

Phone.

Electricity.

Look, it's a wonderful sleeping bag.

They don't make such things anymore.

Why are there so many of them?

Maybe we should go there?

It's getting dark.

It'll be dark when we get back.

By the way, I can clearly see that all these reading of poems and walking in circles are nothing more than a form of apologizing.

I understand you.

A hard childhood, an environment.

But you don't overdo it.

I won't forgive you.

You don't have to do that.

I'm begging you.

Professor, come to us.

One minute.

Don't hurry.

I'm not in a hurry.

I know you will be angry, but I have to tell you anyway.

Here we are, standing on the threshold.

This is the most important moment.

You must know that your most cherished wish will be fulfilled here.

The most sincere.

The most suffered.

You don't need to say anything.

You just need to focus and try to remember your whole life.

When a person thinks about the past, he becomes kinder.

The main thing... is to believe.

Now go.

Who wants to go first?

Maybe you?

Me?

No, I don't want to.

I understand, it's not that simple.

But don't worry, it will pass now.

It will hardly pass.

First of all, if I start remembering my life, I will hardly become kinder.

And then, don't you feel how it's all the same?

To be humiliated, to spit out snot, to pray,

Yeah.

Voila!

Here we have the new invention of Professor Professor.

A device for the study of human souls.

A stethoscope.

It's just a bomb.

What?

Just a joke?

No.

It's just a bomb.

20 kilotons.

Why?

Мы собрали ее с друзьями, с бывшими моими коллегами.

Никому, как видно, никакого счастья место это не принесет.

А если попадет в дурные руки,

However, I don't know anymore.

Then it occurred to us that we still can't destroy the Zone.

If it's even a miracle, it's part of nature.

It means hope in some sense.

They hid this mine.

And I found it.

The old building, the fourth bunker.

Apparently, there must be a principle.

Never to make irreversible actions.

I understand, I'm not a maniac.

But while this poison is open to any bastard here,

No sleep, no peace.

Or maybe the sacred one won't let me?

Poor thing chose a problem for herself.

You're an intelligent man, aren't you?

Why are you waiting, you peaceful bastard?

Why?

Why are you beating me?

He wants to destroy it.

He wants to destroy your hope.

Give it back!

There's nothing left for people on Earth.

This is the only place where you can come if there's nothing left to hope for.

You've already come.

Why are you destroying faith?

Shut up!

I can see through you.

You didn't care about people.

You're making money on our... ...pity.

It's not even about money.

You're enjoying yourself here.

You're the king and god here.

You, the hypocritical bastard, decide who to live and who to die for.

He also chooses and decides.

I understand why your brother Stalker himself never enters the room.

And why?

You are drinking power here, secret and authority.

What other desires can there be?

This is not true, not true.

You are mistaken.

Stalker can not enter the room.

Stalker, in general, you can not enter the zone with a selfish purpose.

You can not.

Remember Dickebras.

Yes, you're right, I'm a bastard.

I haven't done anything in this world.

I can't do anything here.

I couldn't give anything to my wife.

I have no friends, I can't live like this.

But don't take anything away from me.

I already have it today or there, because of the barbed wire.

Everything is mine here, do you understand?

Here, in the Zone.

My happiness, my freedom, my dignity, it's all here.

I come here to see people like me, miserable, tormented.

They have nothing else to hope for.

But I can, you see, I can help them.

No one can help them, I'm a bastard, I'm a bastard, I can.

I'm ready to cry with happiness that I can help them.

That's all.

I don't want anything anymore.

I don't know.

Maybe.

But anyway, I'm sorry.

You're just an idiot.

You have no idea what's going on here.

Why, in your opinion, did the wild boar hang himself?

He came to the Zone with a selfish purpose.

He ruined his brother in the meat factory for money.

I understand that.

But why did he hang himself?

Why didn't he go again?

Now it's definitely not for money, but for his brother.

How did he repent?

He wanted to.

He, I don't know, in a few days he hung himself.

Here he realized that it's not just a desire, but sacred desires are fulfilled.

Why are you shouting in your voice?

There will come a time when your nature corresponds to the essence, which you have no idea about, and it sits in you and controls you all your life.

You didn't understand anything, skinhead.

The wild boar overcame insolence.

He crawled on his knees in this puddle and painted his brother.

And he got a lot of money.

And he couldn't get anything else.

Because the wild boar is wild.

And conscience, suffering, it's all made up.

From the head.

He understood all that and hung himself.

I'm not going to your room.

I don't want to pour the dirt that I've accumulated on someone's head.

Even on yours.

And then climb like a wild boar into a loop.

It's better if I sleep in my stinky writer's hut, quietly and peacefully.

No, Big Snake, you're good at dealing with people, if you bring people like me into the Zone.

And then...

Where did you get the idea that this miracle really exists?

Who told you that wishes do come true here?

Have you seen at least one person who would be happy here?

Maybe a wild animal?

Who told you about the zone, the wild animals, the room?

He did.

Then I don't understand anything at all.

What's the point of coming here?

It's so quiet.

Can you hear me?

Should I give it all up?

Take my wife, my baby, and move here?

Forever?

There's no one here.

No one will hurt them.

Let's go.

He's back.

Where did this come from?

It's stuck there.

We can't throw it away.

Well, let's go.

The bat is waiting.

Let's go.

You don't need a dog.

I have five of those at home.

Do you like dogs?

What?

That's good.

All right, let's go.

¶¶

Thank you.

Thank you.

If you only knew how tired I am.

One side knows, but the other calls you an intellectual, a writer, a scientist.

Calm down.

They don't believe in anything.

They have an organ that they believe in, it's atrophied.

Calm down.

Stop it, stop it.

Come on, lie down.

Don't.

Lie down, lie down.

There's cheese here, you can't have it here.

Take it off.

God, what kind of people are they?

Calm down.

Calm down.

It's not their fault.

They need to be pitied, and you're angry.

You saw them.

Their eyes are empty.

They think every minute that they are not cheap, that they will sell themselves more expensively, that they will pay for everything, every soul movement.

They know that they were born for a reason, that they are called.

They live only once.

Can such people believe in anything?

No one believes, not only these two.

No one.

Who am I to take there?

Oh, God.

And the worst thing is that no one needs it.

No one needs it.

It's a room.

And all my efforts are for nothing.

I won't go there with anyone else.

Well, do you want me to go with you?

Do you want to go there?

Where?

Do you think I'll have nothing to ask for?

No.

You can't do that.

Why?

No, no.

What if you're all right, too?

You know, my mother was very against it.

You probably already understood.

He's a blessed man.

Everyone around him was laughing at him.

And he was a good-for-nothing, such a pity.

And my mother said, he's a stalker, he's a murderer, he's an eternal arrest, and children.

Remember what children are like?

And I didn't even argue with her.

I knew all about it myself, that he was a murderer, that he was an eternal prisoner, and about children.

But what could I have done?

I was sure that I would be fine with him.

I knew that there would be a lot of grief,

But a bitter happiness is better than a grey, dull life.

Maybe I came up with it later.

And then he...

He just came up to me and said, let's go with me.

And I went.

And I never regretted it later.

Never.

And there was a lot of grief, and it was scary, and it was shameful.

But I never regretted it, and I never envied anyone.

It's just such a fate.

What kind of life are we?

And if there was no grief in our life, there would be no better.

It would be worse.

Because then there would be no happiness either.

And there would be no hope.

Thank you.

Люблю глаза твои, мой друг, Сыгру их пламенно чудесны, Когда их приподнимешь вдруг, И словно молнии небесны, Окинешь бегло целый круг.

Но есть сильней очарованья,

Glaza potoplennye nic, V minuty strasnovo lobzania, I skvoz opuschnykh resnic, Ugryumy tuskly ogny zhelanya.

I'm sorry.

.

.