My boy!
What is it? – Sorry to get you up.
Were you asleep? – What is it? What's happened?
There's still one last chance!
A chance? What kind of chance?
A chance! One last hope!
What kind of hope! What's the matter with you?
Nothing's the matter with me. But Maria can do it! Maria!
Maria?
Which Maria? Do what?
You must go to her and convince her.
Do you understand?
Where must I go?
Whom must I convince?
Come in, have a drink. I had one and I feel better.
There's no light anymore.
How long have I slept?
You shouldn't drink that by the glassful.
It's very good cognac, that!
Where is everybody?
Are they sleeping?
They're downstairs, sitting 'round the table.
They're very fond of you. – Sitting 'round what table?
You must go to Maria at once!
Which Maria?
Can't you express yourself more clearly?
Maria, you know her! One of your servant-girls.
Yes, yes, yes!
I'll explain later.
Don't rush me!
Who's rushing you, for God's sake!
Why do you always have to beat about the bush.
She lives...
on a farm on the other side of the bay.
Behind the church.
It's closed now.
Who?
"Who"?
I'm not talking about "who". I mean the church.
But I asked who lives there.
What's the church got to do with it?
Who lives there? Why, Maria, of course.
Your servant. I've been trying to tell you that for half an hour!
Can't you pay more attention!
This is very important!
Pay attention? I...
I know where she lives. My wife showed me.
Oh, I think that...I...
Yes, it's quite alright.
It's alright, believe me.
I'll sit here by you.
What was it you said about the servant?
Oh, yes, your servant-girl...
Did you hear? – Hear what?
What was that?
I don't know... I don't know.
I thought it sounded like music.
In any case, you must go to Maria!
But why?
Don't you want all of this to be over and done with?
For what to be done with?
Everything!
The whole lot!
God, Otto!
There is an end to this!
Otto!
Yes!
You must go to Maria and lie with her.
What?
I say, you must go and lie with Maria!
Lie with Maria?
It's very simple. She lives alone.
And if you only wish for one thing at that moment:
That all this will be over, then it will be!
There'll be no more of it!
But that's madness, Otto!
Good God, Otto!
You don't understand a thing!
It's true!
It's a holy truth.
She has very special qualities, y'know.
I've gathered evidence. She is a witch!
In what sense?
In the best sense!
Are you joking again?
Still having me on with your Nietzschean pranks?
Is there any other way out?
There is no other alternative.
None, whatsoever!
What alternative, Otto? What alter- native? What are you talking about?
It's best if I go now.
I've left the bike for you...
down there by the shed.
Don't take the car, they'll hear you.
I've put a ladder against the balcony.
Go to Maria...
but be careful!
There are a couple of broken spokes in the front wheel.
I once caught my pants-leg in them.
I almost fell in the water.
What pants-leg? – The right one.
Be careful!
Have you finally understood what I told you?
Do you hear what I'm saying?
Yes, what about it?
No... Never!
Anyway, I prefer Piero della Francesca!
As l understood Alexander's words, he meant
that it is peculiar for a man
to change, of his own free will, into a work of art.
Generally, the result of all poetic striving
lies so far from its author that one can hardly believe
that it is a man-made creation.
In the case of the actor, though, the reverse is true.
The actor is, himself, his own creation, his own work of art.
Excuse me.
I'll be right back. – Don't stay long!
How much gas have we left?
Will it last?
I don't know. I'll see.
They brought new tanks last week. Don't you remember?
Julia! Come here to us!
Who is it? – It's me.
Mr. Alexander?
Has something happened?
But why stand there? Come in!
It was only by chance that I heard you knock.
The kerosene gave out, so I got up to fill the lamp.
Has something happened?
Why don't you say anything?
What is it? Is it something at home?
Something's happened at your house again.
Is that it?
But don't you...
don't you have a TV?
Yes, a small one. But...
it went dead about 11:00, and didn't come on again.
What...
What's happened to your hands?
I fell off the bike.
Did you come on a bike?
Yes, I did. I fell.
Come!
You mustn't go about with dirty hands.
Thank you!
You're welcome.
As a child, I played this prelude.
My mother loved it.
Years ago,
before I was married,
I often went to visit my mother... in the country.
She was still alive in those days.
Her house, a little cottage,
was surrounded by a garden...
a little garden,
dreadfully neglected and overgrown.
No one had tended it for many years
and I don't think...
anyone had ever been in it.
Even then, my mother was very ill.
She almost never left the house.
Still,
amidst the ruin of the garden
there was something that was, in its way, beautiful.
Yes, now I know what it was.
When the weather was fine...
she often sat at the window...
looking out at the garden. She even had a special chair by the window.
Once, though, I decided that I would tidy things up...
in the garden, that is.
I wanted to mow the grass, burn the weeds, prune the trees.
On the whole,
I wanted to re-do the garden in my own taste...
with my own hands.
Yes, simply to please my mother.
And for two solid weeks...
I went at it with shears and a scythe.
I dug...
and cut...
and sawed...
and weeded...
I kept my nose to the ground, literally.
And I took great pains to get it ready as soon as possible.
My mother's condition grew worse,
and she kept to her bed.
But I wanted her to be able...
to sit by the window
and see...
her new garden.
In short,
when I was finished and everything was ready...
I took a bath...
put on fresh underwear, a new jacket, even a tie.
Then I sat down in the chair to see what I'd made,
through her eyes, as it were.
I...
I sat there...
and looked out through the window.
I had prepared myself to enjoy the sight.
Anyway, I looked out the window and saw...
What did I see?
Where had all the beauty gone?
The naturalness of it?
It was so disgusting.
All that evidence of violence!
I remember once when my sister was young.
She went to a barber and had her hair cut. It was the fashion then.
Her hair was unbelievably lovely.
Golden-yellow, like Lady Godiva's.
She came home pleased as a punch.
Then my father saw her.
He began to cry.
I think it was the same with the garden.
And your mother?
It's three o'clock!
We won't have time...
But your mother... did she see it?
Maria...
My being here must be an imposition on you.
You can't sleep.
What do you mean?
Could you...
Could you love me, Maria?
What are you saying?
Love me, I beg you!
Save me!
Save us all!
I know who you are. He... he told me!
Please, please!
Save us, I beg you!
What are you talking about?
Go home now.
Do you want me to go with you?
I...I have a bicycle, too.
Don't kill us.
Save us, Maria!
But why?
You poor, poor man!
Why? No, not that way!
You poor man.
Don't be afraid. What's wrong?
Who has frightened you so? Calm down, calm down.
I understand, I know...
that it concerns your home.
I know her, she is wicked.
I know her. They've hurt you...
frightened you.
Don't be afraid of anything.
Everything's going to be all right.
Be calm.
Don't be afraid, not of anything.
It's all right now, all right.
You poor, poor man!
There, there.
There's nothing to fear.
Don't be afraid.
Nothing will happen to you here.
Don't cry, don't cry.
Everything will be fine.
Just love me. – Yes.
My poor dear.
What have they done to you?
There, there...
No...no.
What is it?
Calm down! – No, no!
I c–c–can't!
I can't!
Drink this.
No.
There...
It'll soon be over.
What's frightened you so, Alexander?
Mama!
Hello!
Hello, is it Martin?
Yes. Alexander?
Yes, it's me!
Your voice is so weak.
Oh! Better now?
Yes, it's better. – I wonder, is the editor in?
Yes, but l don't think he's free.
You can't imagine what things are like here today.
You were to see him next week.
Yes, but it wasn't important. A trifle... it doesn't matter.
I'll call back.
Alright, until then. By the way, congratulations!
On what? Oh, of course!
Mama, did you know that our Victor is leaving for Australia?
What'd you say? To Australia?
Yes, and he's not coming back. He's been offered his own clinic.
I heard it last night.
Right, Victor?
Why're you laughing? – I'm not laughing!
When did you decide that?
Australia!
You must be mad!
I don't know why I chose Australia.
I don't know.
It doesn't matter.
I'm tired, that's all.
All right! But what's to become of us?
Of Alexander?
The fact is, what I'm most tired of is the lot of you.
Tired of being your nursemaid.
Your nursemaid and your warden.
Tired of wiping your noses.
Victor, are you mad?
Pardon!
What are you saying?
May I smoke?
Martha, go away! Go, go, go!
God, Mama. I'm not a child!
Call your father to breakfast!
But... – Is it too much to ask?!
Alright, I'll go.
Oh, her ways!
So calculating!
I won't let you go, Victor!
I don't know about Mama, but I won't let you go!
Something's wrong here and I'm fed up with it.
Yes. You can forget about me, and Martha, and the boy...
But Alexander is your friend!
He'll always be.
But he needs you!
He has a wife to take care of him.
She ought to, anyway.
He has a family, a splendid house...
and a son he adores. – Fine and dandy!
Julia!
Fetch your mistress' jacket! She's cold!
So thoughtful!
Little Man! Where is he?
Look, he's left this note!
What's it say?
"My dears: I've slept badly this night. Please don't wake me.
Go and take a little walk.
The boy'll show you his 'Japanese tree' that we planted yesterday.
Or was it today? I don't remember, it matters not.
I kiss you all.
I've taken my pills.
Forgive me, even now.
June 19, 1 985.
10:07 a.m. Papa A."
Shall we take a walk, before the weather changes?
"Forgive me, even now"... what did he mean by that?
And why the exact time?
Mama, you know how he is.
"How he is..."
I think that "his" kindness
would be enough to see us all through.
But he'll be around longer than that.
"How he is..."!
What'd I say wrong?
Have you enough kindness over for "him"?
Alright, Victor. But why must he be such a child?
Maybe I want to be a child as well!
We all want something. I, for one, want to go to Australia.
Well, gather the ashes.
Put them in a glass, fill it with wine, and drink it.
Why? – Don't ask me.
Someone said so.
If you do, you'll remember this the rest of your life.
Come, let's go.
Julia, come with us!
Fetch the boy and we'll go.
I had a dream lately.
I was walking the streets, begging.
When I woke, I cried and cried.
The boy's not there!
He's already gone out.
I think I know where.
To the Japanese tree?
He and the boy are just crazy about their Japan.
Why just Japan?
First it's Australia, then Japan.
God, I can't take much more of this!
What about this morning? I turned on his music...
But he didn't fancy his Japanese. He shut it off.
He says he and the boy were Japanese in an earlier life.
I wish someone would tell him what to make of this life.
Maybe that springs from a deep inner need.
Maybe it's easier for him so.
Why can't I find an easier way?
Can't you?
You seem to have all sorts of schemes to that end.
But nothing quite so far– fetched as Australia.
My God, what is all that nonsense about?
Australia! It's absurd!
Flowers!
I don't understand.
What've I done with them. Where are they?
Alexander!
What's happened?
I did it. Don't be upset! Listen to me, Victor.
I've got something very impor...
No! Silence!
Say nothing! Ask nothing!
Come, Alexander! You can't stay here!
Come, now.
Let him be! What are you doing to him?
Don't touch him!
See you, Alexander!
In the beginning was the Word.
Why is that, Papa?
This film is dedicated to my son Andriosha
with hope and confidence Andrei Tarkovsky