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War CD1

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{y:i}CTB Film Company
{y:i}Alexei Chadov
{y:i}lan Kelly
{y:i}lngeborga Dapkunaite
{y:i}Sergei Bodrov
{y:i}Evklid Kurdzidis
{y:i}Giorgi Gurgulia
I'm Yermakov, Ivan.|And he was John.
So we're kind of namesakes.
We met in the summer of 2001.
For two months I'd been locked up|in the village of Verkhny Iskhoi
by AsIan Gugaev.
Back then, none of our|lot had heard of him.
His detachment wasn't that big.
There were three of us there.
Me, Fedka and a Jew - a commercial.
A businessman from Vladikavkaz.|Called Semyon, I think. . .
Me and Fedka were sawing up wood|when they brought them in on a truck.
There were another|two of our guys with them. . .
{y:i}Vladimir Gostyukhin
{y:i}Yuri Stepanov
You killed my brother!
Yes, I killed your brother!|And a whole lot more!
I whipped your sorry black arses and|I'll keep whipping them
because you're enemies. . .
Did they pay you well?
Don't kill me! Please!
I just arrived,|I'm not guilty! Please!
My mum's all alone. . .
Scum.
{y:i}WAR
Look down!
- What's he want?|- Something in English.
Take the bucket - it stinks!
- Who was shooting?|- They killed two of ours.
Give me your hand.
Shit happens...
Take the jug.
Itíll be us next!
I didn't like her at first -|full of herself. Wouldn't even look at you.
I didn't understand|that she was just embarrassed.
We all crapped in the same bucket.
And I thought ginger|was a right weed.
In the hole, it's|every man for himself -
you're always hungry|and they beat you the whole time.
He wasn't too bad, though.|He looked after her.
|A "gentleman'.
And from the start with me. . .|because of my English, no doubt.
Back in Tobolsk I finished|computer school
and in Chechnya I'd get the news|by Internet for Aslan.
. . .and a whole lot more besides.
I whipped your sorry black arses and|I'll keep whipping them
because you're enemies. . .
Did they pay you well?
Don't kill me! Please!|I just arrived, I'm not guilty! Please!
My mum's all. . .
I'm worn out. Can't get any relaxation.|There's a war on. . .
When will it end?
When all the Russians|will live in the North.
You're white.|You've got the White Sea.
We're black.|We've got the Black Sea.
Why did you kill the lads?
It took me three years|to find that Lieutenant.
I paid thirty grand to get him.
He shot my brother.
I found him in Rostov.
He killed a lot more|good Muslims besides. . .
And the youngster?
Who needs someone like that?
He goes off to get some vodka.
There's a war on,|and he leaves his post.
Is that any way to carry on, Ivan?
No.
You're either a shepherd or a sheep.
Those who let themselves be skewered -|they're the sheep.
Russians.
There are people amongst you.
I saw one in jail near Virkhayansk.
A hardcore convict, strong,|like a Chechen.
If people like him led Russia,|you could win this war.
But you've got too few of them.
You're stupid and weak.|And you're led by half -wits.
You've given back|the Ukraine, Kazakhstan.
You've just given away|half the country for free.
Soon the Chinese|will take the Far East.
You're fighting us
while in Moscow I've got a hotel,|three restaurants, four brigades
in Petersburg, Moscow and Samara.
I milk the Russians like cows
but we still get money|out of the state budget.
Do you know...
why you fight badly?
You don't know?
Because you're not fighting|for your Homeland!
You fight because you've been herded|out here like a sheep.
I know my ancestors going|back seven generations.
I'm a descendant|of the Murid, Hadji Kazi.
A hundred and fifty years ago|he was already cutting you lot up.
This is my land
and I'll clear it of unbelieving dogs
until there's not a Russian|from here to Volgograd.
Got it?
So, what are they writing|about us on the Internet?
The satellite's gone,|we'll catch another.
Aslan, tell your men|not to beat me round the head.
This is the Internet,|you've got to use your brains
and there's a lot in English.
And the foreigners asked if they|could have a wash.
Come here.
I'll pay! I'll pay!
In accordance with|the Shariat
taking money from Jews|for military actions
is considered legitimate.
And while you won't pay us
I'll pay!
We will cut your fingers off.
I tried to translate|what Aslan had said,
but John didn't understand.
So I just said they don't like Jews.
Can I have another cigarette?
He got it immediately about Jews,
but that it was all a put on for him,|that they were getting him ready. . .
What did the Jew's seventy grand|matter to Aslan?
They didn't mention a ransom|to John for a month.
They beat one guy|to frighten the others.
The main thing for them is to break a man,|so that he'll pay the money himself.
|And they certainly know|how to break a man.
Then they took us away.
Where're they taking him?
You just worry about yourself.
Shut up, bitch!
- What's he want?|- Something to drink.
He can wait.
Nice place!
Been in long?
Captain Medvedev.|Give a proper report.
- What?|- Give a proper report.
Take it easy!
Right, attention!
Who are you?
Private Kulik.
Sergeant Yermakov.
Captured on May 10th, 2001 ,|during a battle on the road
from Alkhan Yurt to Urus Martan,|while carrying supplies.
And them?
They're commercial.|Actors from England.
They were doing|a theatre tour in Georgia.
Well, they're actors. . .
At ease.
We mustn't let things slip, lads.|There's a war on.
Is it your back, Comrade Captain?
Contusion and shrapnel|round the vertebrae.
Let me take a look. Fedka!
How did it happen?
How? We were on a transporter.
A rocket went straight through Kit,|a guy in my platoon.
I only worked it out|when I came round.
Whoever was inside|the transporter bought it.
So we were lucky. . .
You may have been lucky. . .
But what about your platoon?
I got concussed just like you,|Comrade Captain.
And the bullet's here. . .
How long had you served?
Two weeks to go before|my tour was over.
And him?
Still wet behind the ears.|His first year.
Captain Medvedev was a tough nut,|no doubt about it.
Everyone worked that out straight away.
You can't break a guy Like that,|can't wear him down.
If we'd had more Like him,|what an army we'd have had!
We all felt his strength,|his confidence.
He's lying there, can't even get up,|but he's got this calm inside him.
A commander.
And Margaret fell in love with him -|I new straight away.
- I think we're somewhere here.|- Here?
It seemed to me they took us further.
No. We didn't go faster|than 25 to 30 an hour.
And up into the mountains.
No, it's a mountain pass.
With machinegun placements.
I think they're guarding|the road to Georgia.
If only we knew what that river is. . .
What's the difference?
Well, I'm getting hungry.
She says you have to exercise. . .
Careful, careful. . .
Here.
Like that?
Says they can't come up with two million,|even if they sell everything.
Says the government won't pay.
They're in negotiations|with the Russians.
He says they'll do everything.
Right, enough!
Same thing over and over|for half an hour!
What's she to him?
Fiancee.
He's not lying?
No.
Ask him if he could get|two million together.
Yes, he says he can.
Tell him the woman stays with me.
In exactly two months|he gives me two million.
If he doesn't, the whole lot|of us will fuck her
and then I'll cut her fucking head off.
Tell him.
Why're you using foul language?|Allah forbids it.
Speaking Russian is the same|as using foul language.
To Allah, all your words|are the same. Translate.
I didn't believe they'd let us go.
It wasn't the Chechen way.|Too smart for them.
And they like|to play with you:
tell you you're going|to be released.
Let you wash in the river.
Then you sit and wait|for two days, get ready. . .
Well, I expected a trick. . .
Come on, what's the hold up?
It's not an order.|Just a favour. . .
- Comrade Captain!|- You know the address?
I'll do everything,|if I get out before you.
I can't decide whether|to let you go or not.
The baksheesh for you is rubbish.
They're paying nothing.
And who'll get|on the Internet for me?
The Captain.
I know you put the wrong address|on the letter you wrote.
You said.
Alright, tell them about the Captain.
I'm tired - be a shame|to kill him.
I paid fifty thousand for him.
If they don't let my nephew go,|who'll give me that money back?
Tell them I'll wait|another month and that's it.
Will he get the money together?
I think so.|He wants to get married.
We're counting from today.
Or he won't have|anyone left to marry.
Alright. Don't come back.
I won't let you go a second time.
How should he pass|the money on?
If he wants to,|he'll find a way.
Tell him to give|his number and I'II phone.
Give him this.|He can watch it later.
No, they're not taking us to Grozny.
No, definitely not to Grozny.
Don't get worked up.|They'll stop the car. . .
take us out and shoot us.|You know Aslan.
He let us go.|I don't know why.
No one paid for us,|that's for sure!
If it had been Khattab or Basaev,|that I'd understand. . .
there's politics involved.
But who's Gugaev?
Maybe it was a trade -off|with the local security service.
Someone told me it|happens all the time.
The FSB swap a gangster,|then get the credit.
They said they'd carried out|a secret service mission
to free us.|Well, the usual nonsense.
It didn't make any difference|to me who did what.
Could I have some more water?
What?
Yes, they should have.
No, they won't.
I don't know, cheap.
They don't pay a lot for a soldier.
We're not commercial,
just slaves really.
How much for a commercial?
Depends.
There's a market in Shatoi.|The prices go up and down there.
Buy one, order another. . .
"Order'?
Well, how do you "order' a murder?|Are you just off the moon?
But you're talking|about gangsters!
Chechens are gangsters.
- All of them?|- Yes.
That's the anger in you talking.
Well, you know best.|Listen, can I have a cigarette?
We were slaves.|We had to earn our food.
And what did you do?
Everything. In the fields,|sawing wood. All sorts.
Was it hard?
Not really. Anything's better|than sitting in the cellar.
0nIy the nutcases|used to beat us.
They'd get high and have|some fun kicking us.
We wanted more food.|And there was no salt.
You coming to Petersburg?
No, I'm going home.
I want to be in time|to get into the Linguistics University
on the interpreter's faculty. . .
You don't know any English,|and the exams have finished.
My Mum was at school|with the rector.
And the military board will help.
Mum said I have|to be quick though.
Tobolsk, via Petersburg.
Listen, if you're ever in Nizhny, here. . .
Ivan, you know, I. . .
Alright, Fedka.|Maybe we'll meet again. . .
Before going to the|Medvedev family
I told everyone in Chechnya|about the Captain
phoned headquarters
then managed to phone|the Interior Ministry.
Told the cops about|Gugaev's nephew in prison.
Just the way Aslan wanted.
When I went to see the Medvedevs,|I knew there was nothing doing.
They're good people,|spoke with me, gave me tea.
I just worried about my|socks making a stink. . .
- Please, help yourself.|- Thank you.
And what's he doing there?
Nothing. Waiting for|a prisoner exchange.
- Why don't they exchange him?|- Mother!
The Chechen was|sentenced to execution,
then the sentence was reduced.|He's a danger to society,
so they won't to let him go,|and it s taking forever.
But why's it taking forever?
Mother, put the tea on.
Why take forever?|Why keep a Chechen they...
wanted to execute anyway?|I don't understand.
I always said about those men|in their caps.
I never used to buy my oranges|from them in the market.
Tell me, is he really|in good health?
Yes. What can I say?|Do I look healthy?
Well, he's healthier than me
and he asked me|to tell you not to worry.
Asked me to tell. . .|asked me to tell. . .
My Dad's a hero. He's defending|our Homeland against gangsters.
He'll come back soon, and we'll|go to the zoo like we used to.
And then I went home to Tobolsk.|And John went to look for the money.
Ivan? Is it you?
I thought you were at the war!
Don't you remember me?|I'm Simakov, Stepan.
- So, all over then?|- What?
Well, the war!
We'll have to get them in!|I'll tell the lads.
- How's your dad doing?|- What about my dad?
Well, he's in hospital,|up on the hill.
Hi, Sliva.
Hi, Ivan.
Unfold it, and then put it through. . .
Nothing had changed at home.|In a word, Siberia.
Two years had passed -|it was like I'd never left.
Sliva still a bandit,|same as he was at school.
His parents got him out|of being conscripted.
It's a shame - would've seen|the world, worked some things out.
Most of the people there|haven't been further than Tyumen.
Mum had aged a lot though,|and Dad. . .
Hi, Zinka. My dad's here. . .
Ivan! We saw you on TV!
Zin, my dad's here. . .
Have you seen Katya?
Zin, my dad's here!
Eh, yes, yes. . .
Why do I drink, son?
Because life's become boring.
I lived until I was about forty
and that was it.
Misery, all of it.
No love, son.
It's good that you were at war.
War makes a man of you.
And that's what you should be.
A man has strength. It's all held|together by that strength.
I had strength, but it's gone.
If I could be up and|on my way to war now!
Don't be angry with me|about your mother
she's a good woman
but I've just fallen out|of love with her.
You'll understand later.
Remember, son:
if you fall out of love,|walk away!
You can't live without love.|You mustn't, son!
Hello, mum.
Ivan!
Everyone says they saw you|on television, but I missed it.
It's no big deal. . .
To our brothers, Sapek, Uvar,|Taran and Tolka
who are no longer with us.
They hadn't been at war.|Our own Siberian lads killed them.
We all went to the same school.|Some my age, some older.
I didn't know Taran at all,|but Sashka Uvarov was a friend of mine.
Russian Ministry of Internal Affairs
The position of the President|of the Russian Federation, Mr. Putin
is that we mustn't pay ransoms|to terrorists for hostages.
So I apologize.
I wanted to work with computers -|nothing doing.
You say you were in Chechnya,|and they start scratching their chins.
"We're using new|technologies here,' they say.
So I got knocked|back everywhere.
The military board|were no use either.
I could get work loading|trucks without them.
Ivan, let's get married.
Where will we live?
Dad will be out of the hospital|soon, then what?
Ivan, you asked me to wake you!
I'm up Auntie Val!
Put the tea on.
- Why aren't you at work today?|- Because it's Saturday.
I bought some good tea, "Akbar'!
Aren't you from round here then?
'No -speaka -di -Russian'...
Ah, you want Ivan!
Should have said, instead|of mumbling away.
How did he get there?|I don't know.
Doesn't speak a word of Russian.
Alright, in Moscow they put him|on a plane, but in Tyumen?
He found the station,|bought a bus ticket
then on the ferry, then he|found me. Good going.
As soon as I saw him,|I knew.
Knew what?
What was going to happen.
. . .into the mountains|to hunt goats.
Let's see the documents.
And the cartridges?
As they should be by law, officer.|They're stored separately.
Alright. Good day.
- Can we have our own compartment?|- Not shy, are we?
We'll pay. . .
I can't make any promises.
Take Compartment Six for now|and we'll see.
Anything you say, my lovely!|I'll be hoping. . .
Be off with you, my "lovely'.
Why did I go?|Not for money, that s for certain.
But why? I don t know.
Maybe to get Aslan.
Probably because|of the Captain though.
I asked our commander about him,|I asked for help.
He's got connections|from back in Afghanistan.
He said, "What're you worried about,|be happy you got out.
"It's not your war,|we'll manage without you.'
I got angry about it.
And I felt sorry for Ginger.|Where'd he be without me?
And why not ride to Vladikavkaz|and back for free?!
What were the gun and|the ammunition for then?
But we were going|to the Caucasus!
And the stuff was good,|I could always use it for hunting.
And he was paying!
Hi, guys. I'm Alexander Matrosov!|Where to?
That way.
I got it. I'll put the case|away, alright?
Hey, skinny!
American?
Alexander Matrosov.
This is John, and I'm Ivan.
Guys, I'm Alexander Matrosov!
No free compartment,|so I'll have to cramp your style.
Soon the scum will clear off.|But, for now, I'll play host!
- Anything else?|- Take it easy for the moment.
They're reliable guys.|They're responsible,
you say the word, and that's it!|No going back!
Of course, they're|black -arsed scum,
but they deliver the goods bang|on time and never screw you!
And you know some major|players down there?
Come on, Ivan! !|I'm Alexander Matrosov!
Well, I might have some|business for you, Matrosov.
Hey, scumbag!
Get us some more vodka,|and get us some nibbles. . .
Look, skinny's conked out.
He was a funny guy,|Alexander Matrosov.
He was buying heroin from|the Chechens and taking it to Russia.
We got very drunk|in the restaurant car.
I saw straight away|he was a con -artist.
I didn't tell him anything,|just checked him out. . .
Arriving in Vadikavkaz!|Do you want the ticket receipts?
Hello? Can I speak|to Alexander Kardanov?
Yes, Kardanov.
They'd talked a lot of rubbish|to John in Moscow.
There was no big shot ex-KGB guy|who exchanges hostages.
The guy said he was an FSB Major.
He knew we were coming|and was waiting.
When I met him I knew we'd|landed in a right mess.
But what was I supposed to do -|turn round and go home?
You were prepared|to kill, even then?
Journalist, you go off to play pool|back in Moscow.
What's your goal? To pocket|some balls, in order to win.
Well, this is war, this is. . .
Sergeant, what're you getting|so worked up for him about?
Comrade Major, it's not my money,|so I couldn't care less.
But ten percent is steep.|He hasn't got much as it is.
Gugaev knows how much we've got -|any less and he won't let her go.
He'll either rape her or cut|her ears off - I know.
And we're late - only four days left.
The ten percent isn't for me.
There's my people,|the people in Chechnya.
It's a big operation -
What if we said 50,000?
I wouldn't be sitting here, Sergeant.|What are we haggling for?
Youíve got the money with you?
Who carries that kind of money,|Comrade Major?
What guarantees can you give?
Serious people in Moscow|gave you my number, Sergeant,
and I don't give out I0Us.
You've no choice, Sergeant. Without|me you're screwed, got it?
Day after tomorrow,|we meet here. I'll bring the money.
There s one condition -|I go with you.
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