…this high-rise building model 7B4.
Now I’m welcoming everyone to a symbolic glass of wine.
In the interest of safety, the rest of the wine will be happening down on the surface.
Bravo, mister supervisor, bravo!
Just don’t drop it. Be delicate!
Ne’er dropped a bottle.
Careful, careful!
*Created by Polish Television in 1983*
Douchebag, didn’t I say that I’d never drop it?
***Part 1: The allotment***
*Long, long time ago…*
*…during the success propaganda*
You rushed me here. Now I’m standing and wasting my health.
They’re still typing.
Ah, let them type. I’m not going to get it anyway.
So why are you waiting here?
Just a custom. I’ve been waiting for 11 years.
Two years ago I was stupid enough, didn’t wait for them to put up the list…
…and I was so anxious I had to come at 1am and bribe the janitor to read me the whole list.
The worst part was someone had a similar name, and then I was agonizing until morning.
And now I’m trying to relax and come, knowing I won’t get it anyway.
Short and then a new line.
Definitely sounds like a list of apartment allotments.
Oh, name, new line.
They will put it up soon.
This is Z, this is Z! It’ll soon be done.
They’re done.
Shhh. They stopped.
Chair.
Chair!
Ah, here, the chair.
*Our answer to the agitators?* *Volunteer Saturday work.*
People, give it a rest!
Read out loud!
– What scum. — You’re a scum yourself!
Read it out loud!
Excuse me, when will the list be ready?
Not today. The chairman is not here, he can’t sign it.
That’s not it, it’s not the list.
No reason to push.
I know, but I still can check, right?
– Well, this is a scandal. — Thuggery.
– Look at how they’re treating us. — Like in primary school.
Why are you pinning this on the woman. The chairman is absent, so the list is absent.
Just put it up without the signature!
– That’s not valid. — Look at the smart-aleck.
– He was bribed so he doesn’t care. — Yes! A briber.
We need to march in and grab the list by force!
Yes, exactly. By force.
Wait, this is not right. We need to relax.
– So what can we do? — We need to wait.
– I’ve waited for 7 years. — So you can wait one more day.
My proposal: choose a civil committee, indue with trust, and send a petition.
– For what? — So that they share their postulates.
Yes! Very good. I propose the candidature of this man who thought about this.
Who agrees?
– I don’t agree. — Why?
How do I know you’re on the list? Or do you want to pencil yourself in?
Mister, this is a matter of trust.
– I don’t trust you. — So come with me!
I can come. Who supports my candidature?
– We need to choose a third person. — Ideally, a woman.
– No, ideally someone young. — No, a woman.
– What’s going on, no list yet? — No.
– It’s a scandal, gentlemen. — Scandal, for sure!
Television, good morning.
– I called in yesterday. — Good morning, it’s you, mister reporter.
See, there were some complications. The board met yesterday, but not all members were present.
So we couldn’t finish the list in the end, and now chairman went downtown.
But darling, I don’t have time, I only got the camera for today.
– Let’s do the list quickly. — But… we can’t.
How do you mean, you don’t have any candidates?
No, we do, 80 of them, all urgent cases. But only 40 apartments.
I will show you the list straight away.
What do we have here… We just need to grab a pen…
But, we can’t do that.
If the chairman asks, you can just say it’s television…
…and then we’ll film you ladies nicely, right next to the typewriter, very beautifully.
What do we have here. Balcerek, let him have it.
Cichocki Dionizy, what kind of name is this?
Czechowicz… rings a bad bell.
Dąb-Rozwadowski, good.
And so on. And here.
And here, by bulk.
And now we just need to nicely re-type it in.
– Okay, fine, but only for the television. — Thank you so much.
He said he can work this, so he probably can.
– They didn’t throw him away. That’s a good sign. — I won’t get it for sure.
But why? They examine everything very carefully. Seniority, living conditions. Where do you live?
In a basement. Kotłowa Street.
Ladies and gentlemen, please don’t leave! The list will be ready soon.
Excuse me, sir.
Excuse us, here we go.
Where are you going, lovely? Here, next to this building maybe.
The lady is taping it in. You can leave, thank you very much.
I’ll ask you to come to this side, you can come closer.
And why are you so disinterested? Why the stupid face?
Grab your kid so he can see something too.
– He weights some 90 pounds. — So why did you plump his ass?
Did you tape it evenly?
Gentlemen, let’s do it, do we have the light? Turn it on, dammit.
I’ll ask you. You walk up to this list, and see if your name is here.
Then I walk to you and ask you “Are you pleased?” and you say “Of course I’m pleased,”
And then I say “thank you.“ You dig?
Great. So make some room, you walk up again. Little sieve, gentlemen. Attention!
Can we? Please, please, walk up. Camera!
– Excuse me, are you pleased? — No.
Stop!
– Why? What happened? — I’m not on the list.
But why would it do any harm to say you’re pleased?
I guess I can.
You’re getting it. Caution, one more time. Caution, with the finger, once more, camera!
Excuse me, sir, are you pleased?
If I can be honest with you, mister reporter…
…I am very pleased.
Our apartment construction, despite many difficulties owing to weather conditions…
…rose up to the occasion this year, correct?
-Yes, very much. — How long did you wait for the apartment?
Only eleven years.
But finally it’s here, correct? Thank you, congratulations, thank you, stop, gentlemen.
Thank you very much, excuse me.
Wait! Wait!
I got it!
*The Central Administration* *of Cooperative Housing in Warsaw*
*Polish Fiat*
Hey, stop. Hey, stop!
What are you doing, you nitwit, I’ve been yelling “stop.”
Watch how you’re driving. Are you blind?
Easy, tiny man, or you’re strain yourself. Schmuck.
Don’t call me a schmuck, you cranehole.
There’a car behind you, dickhead. Where are you going? For fuck’s sake.
*Supervisor of Culture Department* *Stanisław Angel*
In Muława, a crowd was walking me back to the bus. They were shouting and chanting the titles of my poems.
In Serock, I dictated to the enthusiasts my involved erotica.
And comrade Jan Winnicki sent me a gourmet basket from Pewex.
With this very business card.
And here, I see that your logistics is subpar.
A meeting with *me* and there’s no room, no poster, no intro…
…and not even an audience? What do you have to say?
I understand.
I’ll write you an invoice for three meetings. Miss Barbara!
So our department will meet the plan and you won’t be at a loss.
Supervisor, you are offending my pride as an author!
But in the end, that’s good. Four.
Mister supervisor, the mailman with a registered letter has been waiting for 15 minutes.
– So? — He’s anxious about his place in grocery line.
Fine.
Bad news?
To the contrary. Miss Barbara, grab the glasses.
Sit down. You too. What news. What news.
–Sit down. — What happened?
I wanted to announce I received a high position in Warsaw.
It includes an allotment for a new apartment, in a new neighborhood.
Jesus and Maria, I’m grabbing the glasses. The chief will be pissed.
Mister supervisor, can you let anything out? Is it ministry, or higher than that?
Sorry, I cannot. It’s a function that requires discretion.
Discretion above all, they taught us.
– Take your hat down. — I can’t. I’m on duty.
You’re a calm man. Someone else would be emotional.
And you’re here, coldly, with vodka on the table.
No stopping sign doesn’t apply to you?
Half a liter of the rye vodka. Maybe one-and-a-half while I’m at it.
You should be selling only half a liter per person.
Half a liter? Why the hell?
Everyone would like a cut.
Why don’t you buy yourself shitty Kiraso liquor.
Lick it off, while it’s still keeping the proof.
– Lady, give me half a liter of Baltic vodka. — Wait, now I’m the first in line. You’re behind me.
How many of Baltics do you have?
– Seven. — Give me all seven.
– How many? — Seven.
But… No!!!
Stasiu, darling, why didn’t you tell me we’re moving to Warsaw.
Close the door.
Miećka, I didn’t tell you so that you wouldn’t be pissed. Wait.
I will be a janit… no. A building manager.
And what will I say to mommy and daddy now?
Miećka, how dense you are. You don’t understand anything. The entire city knew, but not you.
– About what? –About how Broński supports me. That I’m his man.
Everyone knew since he was coming here so often.
Broński hung himself under Korszul. And Korszul in turn was Skąpski’s man.
– Do you understand now? — Yes, but what does it have to do with us?
What does it have to do with us? Skąpski is becoming an ambassador.
And if he’s gone, Korszul is gone. And then Broński.
Guess who’s gone after they’re gone? Me!
Meaning, I would be gone, if not for Kazik. And this building manager job.
Besides, what do I have to do here? What could I achieve here? A one-rung promotion?
There… There is a spring there. We’re going down so that we can bounce off.
Now we need people from the bottom.
Simple, but just people.
Those who can both work well and bang on the table well! When it’s needed.
Stanisław, you old man. I heard you’re moving to Warsaw.
Stanislaw, dammit, you always bubble up. Congratulations.
Don’t forget the old buddies.
Can you let out, in confidence, whom did you hang yourself under?
I can’t, boys, I can’t. It’s a secret, I swore, I can’t.
But I swear I won’t tell anybody.
I can’t say, but look at this.
Mister Jan… Winnicki.
Mister Jan to some, just Jan to others.
Boys, let me just get a foot in the door, and I’ll drag you all with me.
Where do you want? Television? Paris? You will be in Paris. Pewex, right? You got it.
Miss Angel, what’s going on? Why is she crying?
She’s happy.
Our cow had triplets.
People would visit from the other village to see.
– Little bull and two two heifers. — And?
Nothing. They’re being reared.
Good day. Excuse me, is this building number 7? Excuse me?
Good day, is this the building number 7?
Who the hell knows, mister.
It used to be number 7,
And before it was 5.
But when we were doing the foundations, it was 11, no?
Yeah… now it is 7.
And so I will be living here, my associate professor friend.
A beautiful building. Congratulations, my associate professor friend.
Thank you.
A beautiful building!
This concrete slab is huge. Has a great future.
– I heard you got an apartment here? — Not me, my associate professor friend.
Don’t take it. It’s a bungle.
I, myself, am refusing. I won’t be living in a shitty place.
What are you talking about? This is a magnificent house.
Yeah? Let’s take a look. Look at this wall here. Is it straight? Is it?
This wall?
– Straight my ass, dear mister. — What do you think?
I dunno. Indeed, it seems crooked, my associate professor friend.
That’s not even all. Come here, inside.
Look, for example, at these stairs.
You’re walking down, and you can break your neck.
We absolutely must write a protest letter.
We’ll refuse accepting the apartments. I will edit this appropriately.
You just need to sign, here you go.
See, your friend is correct, here, sign it.
– What’s going on? Where to? — We want to see the ruins.
What do you mean see? Forbidden! It’s a regulation.
Mister foreman, come for a sec.
Apartment number 12, I want to check it out.
But of course, mister engineer, sir. Go ahead, after me.
Carefully so you don’t sprain your ankle, mister engineer.
Watch the place.
Mister engineer, please tell your subordinate.
Me and my colleagues here are the tenants and we resolutely protest against forbidding us the entrance to the construction site.
Resolutely. Resolutely.
– Wait a minute, I’m not protesting, I’m just asking nicely. — Resolutely!
Dear mister, if it’s forbidden, it’s forbidden.
If a brick falls on your head, then what? Who will be held responsible? Who? Who?
This building is made out of big slabs.
Dear mister, anything can happen.
And no unauthorized person can loiter here. No trespassing.
Just make sure it’s all shipshape. As if making it for yourself, or a foreigner.
Henio! Come to number 12. We’ll be straightening the walls.
Faster!
You know, at first I didn’t want to say yes. It’s Warsaw, after all.
You hear so much on TV, on the radio, about those muggings in broad daylight.
They’re writing some abominations on the walls. Scary to go outside.
Miećka, stop it.
Why should I stop? But then I thought that it’s the capital, after all. Culture!
You can go to the movies every day. Or the theatre.
Different famous politicians are visiting. Parties are held in beautiful palaces.
This is nothing like Pułtusk!
– Give it a rest, Miećka, I tell you. — Why should I give it a rest?
In Warsaw, you can always meet someone interesting on the street.
The current television chairman, or a famous actor.
Watch your driving, you idiot!
I’m sorry, mister supervisor, I was just pondering.
Yesterday Heniek’s father called him.
He asked him to stop drinking so he could save some money.
And Heniek, you know him, started swearing at his father…
…so much that the person controlling the phone call got anxious.
He plugged in and says “you motherfucker, if you don’t stop swearing at your dad…
…I will truncheon your ass so that your own father can’t recognize you.”
See… Stranger, but with a heart.
It’s the wrong place. Where did you drive me to?
But mister supervisor, it’s the new project, number 4.
– It’s right here. Should we unload? — Are you crazy!?
– Come over here. Is this the new project? Number 4? — Correct.
Check this out. I’m the building manager right here. My contract starts on the 15th.
It’s 15th today, right? 15th.
And what? Am I supposed to live outside?
Give me a break. What’s your beef.
If you’re a janitor, then guard this place so that nobody steals the tools.
Let’s grab a beer before the store closes.
Boy! Boy! Don’t call me a janitor, okay? I’m the building manager!
Should we unload, or drive? Have you gone mad!? Wait a minute. I’m the building manager!
I can wait for the the supervisor. But a janitor is so big to me.
Miećka, come over here. What are they doing to me? I’m going crazy.
Stay calm. It’s windy here, zip up your jacket.
I understand, but what can I do? Nothing.
I say we can get the furniture into the storage, but you can’t live in storage.
You have to come back to Pułtusk.
I understand. I think I can make it for the 4pm bus. I need to hurry.
– I had a favor to ask, though. — Of course.
This morning, a comrade visited the building site.
He left his business card and a phone number.
He asked me to call to report back about progress.
I don’t have enough time, but I’d like you to call him and say nothing could be done.
Wait, wait, why “nothing”? Something definitely can be done. There’s always a solution.
We’ll rent a hotel for you. They are half-empty now, they will be glad.
We’ll pay from expense account or supplemental payroll.
– I would prefer the expense account. — Of course.
– This won’t be done in even a year. — There’s no apartments to see. Just empty walls.
Dammit, and no one’s doing anything.
Why did you make me leave my mom? And with the washer, too?
There was nowhere to keep it, anyway.
Wait.
Hi.
In the annual reports, it was supposed to be finished last year.
So it was added so that the reports add up.
But now it has to wait for resources because there are more important constructions for this year’s plan.
I’ll admit I don’t understand a bit.
Wait, wait. So what happens next?
I guess nothing. But if this building was added to this year’s plan…
…taking place of a building from next year’s plan, to last year’s plan…
…maybe, maybe we could finish before fall.
Otherwise it’s up to God.
- Jesus Maria. — We can make it happen.
How?
Don’t worry, neighbor. In our depot we’ll make sure hardware doesn’t go to this year’s buildings.
The work will be whirring there in two days.
It’s great that we were blessed with such a neighbor.
Good-bye.
Mister Zygmunt, I would be very happy to do this for you, but do you want them to hammer your walls down in a month?
I’m trying to explain to you that the documentation of reinforcements went to the ZBM.
The commission of specialists needs to approve it.
I bet they found some anomalies and that’s why it’s taking so long.
If so, it will take them two years to finish this house.
Did you ever have to live in a temporary worker’s hotel? No? So you won’t ever understand.
Did you hear? The documentation of reinforcements went to hell and for the next two years I’ll be without a roof over my head.
The housing subdivision “Marzena”?
Yes, that one. Please do something, for the love of God.
– Miss Krysia, I will pay you back. — Just like last time?
No, Miss Krysia, darling, that was something else.
This should be enough for the whole family.
So? Where can I find it?
Wait here.
Zenek, would you like some tickets to a Poland–England game?
Why not? They go for 300 złoty.
So tell me what did you do with that red folder I gave you a month ago?
You probably kept the folder since it looks nice, but what about the documents?
I delivered it to Kowerta from ZBM, and inside the folder, too. I didn’t take it!
And what’s happening to the documents now?
Kowerta put it on a big pile of papers next to the window.
They were still there when I was there 3 days ago. It’s easy to tell by the red folder.
Kowerta went to a sanatorium for two months.
Take this key. Go there and bring those papers back.
In his left drawer there’s a stamp. Use it on the first page, on the margin.
Mister director, unfortunately I couldn’t find a way to grab those game tickets. You understand.
– I do. — But I have two razors for you.
Why the commotion?
We’re just building.
What happened?
Nothing happened.
The building didn’t make it to this year’s plan.
But it will be finished before the deadline as part of the crew’s pledge.
As a gift for chairman’s birthday.
When is his birthday?
In a month, I guess.
Go up! Go up!
Gentlemen, do you see what’s happening here? I have a bad feeling about this.
Now it will definitely be messed up in all the haste.
I have prepared a letter here, in protest, for a celebratory renunciation of the apartments.
Please sign and treat it as civic duty.
In principle, you are right.
But I think we need to wait for the construction to end and we’ll see all the flaws.
You know…
Tomorrow, we’re giving you a home that will be your home.
Please remember that during everyday’s usage.
It would be false modesty if I didn’t mention the role of our housing cooperative, and even my own.
Those who were assigned apartments, are considered lucky.
Our intensive labor, hours spent…
– Did they hand out the keys? — Why is that important?
Most important! Means they came to an agreement about defects.
– The developer with the investor. — Please be quiet.
Congratulations to everyone.
And now allow me to proffer this symbolic key to your building…
…to your building manager, mister Stanisław Angel.
Here you go.
***Part 2: The professionals***
Alright, alright, Miećka.
Ladies and gentlemen, in a moment you will enter your homes. High noon.
Excuse me, owing to objective reasons it will be a few minutes after.
Settling in a new apartment is a noon in every person’s life.
I now you were anxious waiting, but there’s a beautiful Russian custom.
Before leaving, you have to do some time.
And we’ll create a new custom, a Polish one.
Before entering, you have to wait some time.
I wish you all a nice afternoon.
– Mister, what did you load in there? — Just little things.
Little things my ass. No way to do it without belts.
– What’s going on? — What’s going on, for God’s sake.
Dammit. Put it down, Gienek.
Give me a moment, put it down.
– We’ll have to pass by somehow, bloody hell. — No way. It’s stuck.
We fucked up the floor numbers, and now what?
Gentlemen, these cupboards are identical.
So?
So we can take yours and deliver it where we were supposed to deliver ours, number 12.
– Where are you going? — Number 4.
So take ours.
– Should we? — Yeah.
Hold that cupboard.
Slowly.
Don’t jerk it!
*No elevator* *Dor unavailable*
Here’s the elevator! I mean, the elevator’s missing for the time being…
…but the shaft is here. And when the need arises, you understand.
So let’s try to find it, my dwelling.
Twelve.
This is it. Number 12.
My apartment.
– Congratulations. — Thank you.
You know, I waited, I waited, and now it’s here.
Little keys are here. And this is the floor plan.
This is what it’s like.
Now let’s replace the lock. You know, the most important thing in a new apartment.
And this is the best model.
It was held just for me by the clerk.
I have the tools, nails, hammers. If you could just hold this.
Well!
It fits.
But there’s something… Dammit.
Careful, careful, gentlemen! To the right and then in the center.
What are you doing in my apartment? What’s all this furniture?
I have my writ.
The allotment from the housing cooperative.
Here you go.
And this is my ID.
*The allotment for apartment dwelling, number 9, last name: Kołek* * *
*The allotment for apartment dwelling, number 9, last name: Kołek* *The allotment for apartment dwelling, number 9, last name: Kotek*
It has come to my attention that two families are illegally occupying one apartment.
How come?
I warn you dearly that you will pay the consequences.
The Apparat can take care of squatters.
What do you mean illegally? What are you talking about?
– Look at this document! — Or this one!
Stay calm, stay calm.
Alright. The allotments are original , no sign of forgery.
My apologies and have a happy… well, whatever.
What do you mean… whatever.
I didn’t submit an application for an apartment with a roommate.
– I beg your pardon. — I beg yours!
Gentlemen. You showed your documents, both with stamps and with chairman’s signature.
The allotments are here, so no need to be anxious. Just fulfill them.
– This is an obvious mistake! — Indeed!
A mistake? A mistake?
But in Charków they allowed two men to marry.
Everyone said “A mistake, a mistake.”
But after a year, they had twins.
Sit down.
Last time we went to the Old Town together and there you had a chance to get to know old Warsaw.
And today instead of the exam…
…we’ll have a trip where you can get to know a new housing subdivision.
I want you to closely observe everything during that trip…
…since there might be an essay homework afterwards.
At the same time you will fulfill your communal work quota.
– Yes, Jasiu? — Which work?
You will move my furniture to the new apartment.
Let’s go!
Let’s stop for a bit. We’ll be entering in pairs, okay?
The first couple can enter, and the rest will wait.
Here you go, a little suitcase, not too heavy. If too heavy, ask a boy for help.
Quickly, boys, grab this chair. Maciuś, hold this tight.
Little vase. Darling, you take this little basket, okay?
And maybe this vase.
No, don’t take this, this is the biology teacher’s.
Jasiu, take the lamp, too. Good.
Maybe we can get some coffee. The teapot and cups have to be somewhere on top.
And I will have to pay for the gas, right? Forget it.
If you’re on your own, you can cook coffee day and night. But not at my place.
But I would drink some tea. Doesn’t make sense not to drink or eat. What if we have to wait a few days?
We’ll conquer them with hunger.
Maybe you could go downstairs, grab something to eat.
– And I will keep an eye on things here. — Just don’t do anything stupid.
I’ll go buy something as well, and call my work.
And call the head of the hospital. Let him figure it out. He has contacts.
And definitely to the housing cooperative, this can’t last forever. And just do something!
Have you ever seen anything like this, ladies? Pretty great, isn’t it?
The little house will look different straight away.
*Dispatches and ordinances*
There’s something here.
No way, I won’t be paying for a committee.
I’ll pay! Sign me in. How much?
200 złoty. Here please acknowledge on the list. Your name?
Zdzisław Kołek.
Here you go.
Keep the rest.
I have a thing, if you don’t mind. It turns out there are some squatters here.
And there must be some way… they have an allotment, but this is something that happened unfairly.
Maybe in some way a building committee…
Wait, wait. I also have a thing for you.
Please, sign me in.
My name: Zygmunt Kotek.
You wanted to fool me?
Win over the committee?
Fat chance, asshole.
We’re sitting here together and that’s it. No tricks.
Look at the crap falling down.
Dad, that’s our cupboard.
What?
You klutz, how are you using that crane? It’s ground floor anyway!
– What? — Leave this alone!
Eve-ry-bo-dy will get their turn.
Dear lord, did you see that? This was a woman’s corpse. A vampire!
– What do you mean, a corpse? She spoke. — She only said one thing and nothing more.
What’s happening?
– In this crate there’s a corpse, of a young woman. — No corpse! She was saying things.
What was she saying?
What was she saying… …that everybody will get their turn.
That’s what she said.
Good day. It was just made clear to me what’s in your crate.
As a building manager, I demand an explanation.
Please, come in.
That’s enough for me.
Absolute discretion. You can trust me completely.
Thank you very much.
– And what? A corpse? — Mister Manc is a great man.
Unfortunately I can say nothing more at this time.
What is this? U-Haul?
I’ll explain everything, mister.
You can enter now, go ahead. Carefully. Carefully!
Help her. Just a moment, don’t drive yet!
Just a second.
Careful, it’s going!
Excellent! We’re finally having restaurant buses.
I knew this’d happen.
Lovely you’re here, beautiful.
Give me a shot of vodka, something to eat, and ice cream for the little one.
Oh, it’s my husband.
Good day. My name’s Winnicki. My pleasure.
Don’t dress up, Wiesia will be right back.
Froggy.
You have to understand me, sugar.
Froggy, of course I understand you.
– It was you, right, three weeks ago? — Of course.
– I was completely devastated. — Needlessly so. Sit down.
No woman in my position…
No woman compared or compares to you. You are the best.
Actually, that’s why I came.
I need to take a few sundries.
You wouldn’t want people to say you threw me away naked and barefoot.
– Wait, you are leaving? — The house is yours.
– Sugar… — I’m taking only personal items.
Don’t thank me, it all rightly belongs to you.
When it comes to furniture, I’m taking…
…the table set…
…the Biedermeier…
…the desk and the chair, of course…
…the Matejko painting…
…two Malczewski paintings.
One Malczewski? One?
One Malczewski is a guy I know in the city. Froggy!
And then…
Good day. Do you wish to have your kitchen pipe moved right now, or maybe some other time?
Which pipe?
Allow me.
Do you see this stove?
It’s far away from the wall, but it should be right in the corner, no?
Yes, it should.
Right. But you cannot move it because of this hot water pipe.
You know, if the pipe went…
…here, it would be possible.
We can take care of this within an hour. And it will cost 1.60 złoty.
Could I pay in Polish złoty?
Sure. Six hun’red then.
Got it. But, gentlemen, tell me how did you know about this pipe in my apartment?
– We built this apartment building. — So couldn’t you do the pipe correctly straight away!?
No, no, no. We were building according to the plan.
And the plan had the pipes going this way…
…this way…
Or look at this wall here.
Crooked?
Crooked.
Crooked.
But the plan said so.
Look here. The room door is two inches above the floor?
– Oh. It came back. — Mister, the floor is warped.
And in the bathroom, the faucet is too short, right?
And the water doesn’t go into the bath tub?
Yeah, it goes behind it.
See? We know everything.
But today we’re only taking care of the pipes. So? Should we start?
I guess. Wait. Maybe we could do something about this pipe, too?
What would you like? Higher? Lower?
Maybe this way?
– Maybe… How expensive is this going to be? — Well…
This one… Twice the expense.
Yeah?
No, well… maybe I’ll put a curtain here.
As you wish.
Stasiu, what are you doing?
Here, grab the hammer. Do the line, as Soviet poet Sofronow said, and then you’ll see.
Keep it straight!
Are you going to come at the same hour, or randomly?
Before noon.
Bah, people can’t write, what scribbles. Read this.
“Your god-son had his first tooth…
…and now the biggest hit of the season a recipe…
…for a pumpkin pie without eggs our sugar grab a big pumpkin and…”
Stop, wait. I have something better here.
“I need five hundred green ones…
…talk to the husband, he’ll find something. Don’t let him swindle you.”
Five hundred green ones… Wait, who is this addressed to?
– It’s for you, your dad. — Dad? Yeah.
Good day, kiddo, can I talk to the chairman?
– Your name? — Winnicki.
Oh, good day, just a moment. Maybe I could… just…
Mister chairman welcomes you.
Welcome, dear chairman.
– It’s a real honor. — Oh, don’t exaggerate. Hi.
- Maybe we could? — Maybe.
Mister chairman, how is your construction doing? Going alright?
It’s evolving auspiciously.
– But there are slippages? — Slippages obviously happen.
– Unfortunately, they happen. — Yes.
Please, do your best, for God’s sake. People are waiting.
I understand.
Dear, I have a problem.
– Maybe I could help? — Indeed.
I have a problem.
In short, my wife has a lover.
Oh, it’s horrible.
It’s not so horrible, but you know, I can’t look at this.
I’m too sensitive. It touches me. I can’t look at a woman in pain.
Middle-life crisis. It happens. I can’t focus. Not at work. Not at home. Nowhere.
I took my suitcase and left.
Where should I live? Under a bridge?
Why under a bridge all of a sudden?
I have that summer house in Mazury, I have that cabin in Bieszczady. But what, I’ll be driving 150 miles to work?
Nonsense, of course.
Guy, I don’t need much. Do I need to live in a palace? 3–4 rooms, tops.
Yeah. It’s a tough case.
I know it’s tough.
– Your whole job is tough. — Yes.
Honestly, I’m surprised.
You’re an honored man, do you want to sit here until the rest of your life?
It takes one word.
No, no, they will start talking that I took someone’s job.
I prefer to carry my cross even though it costs me so much health.
One needs to take care of one’s health, my dear. No joke.
You’re drowning in these papers all the time.
You should take a car, drive outside. Relax, catch some open air, breathe.
What are you driving? Ah, one of those… a Skoda. An old one.
– What is it? — Fiat Mirafiori.
Thank you, but I see this as a sticking point.
Because I like a nice luxurious drive, but my kid dreams of a sports car.
Afraid to send him to driving school. Twenty-something-years old, high school exams under his belt.
– What’s his name? — Antek.
– Thank you. — We’re keeping mum about the rest of the family, okay?
So yes, I said the case was tough, but not hopeless.
I have something for you. Not too big, not too small.
But there’s a problem.
This apartment is eyed by someone who knows people in television.
He comes here every day with the reporter, with a camera. They are exterting some pressure.
– What’s the reporter’s name? — I don’t know him. He’s a redhead.
– Small and fat? — No… tall and skinny.
I know him. I’ll take care of that.
If so, I will complete the allotment paperwork straight away.
Miss Basia? One moment.
Maybe I should fill it out myself.
WINNI-
-C-
-K-
-KI
Winnicki Jan.
Zygmuś, come. There’s soup.
– Zygmuś, come. There’s soup. — Dzidek, dinner, come.
Are you insane?
What is this, for God’s sake? This is a soup? It’s just salt, what is this?
Son of a bitch, let the apoplexy hit me.
Do you see? What a rabble-rouser. Little soup doesn’t taste well for him.
And this guy, damn it, wants to live among cultured people, in a decent apartment.
Good day, mister Antoni.
Good day, miss.
What is this? Groceries gone awry?
I only signed up to stay in the line. The store opens in four hours.
Tell me, which window is yours?
This one, the edge. Second floor.
This adds up. I’m only missing one now.
I already know where everyone lives, but there’s something wrong on the fourth floor…
I’m guessing an uninhabited flat.
Uninhabited ones are on the fifth floor.
You see, number 12 will probably sublet. Number 13 is haunted, rejects everybody.
– What are you talking about. — But on the fourth floor, I think…
***Part 3: Power rationing level 20***
Who is this?
Your neighbor, Dekla-Wagnerówna. Let me in!
– Are you alone? — Alone, let me in!
– Is this urgent? — Yes, very urgent and important.
Good day.
What are you doing? For the love of God.
Miss Dekla, dear. Don’t say a word about this.
If the janitor learns about it, he will request a resolution from the chief architect of Warsaw.
Leave this alone. I have some information, this is all unnecessary.
Come, I’ll show you something. Come!
On every floor, there’s a door to an apartment here. But on this one, a wall.
Indeed. It rumbles.
We need to check it. But discreetly, so that the administration doesn’t learn too soon.
I think I get it. The bricklayer killed a friend and covered his tracks.
Bullshit. They just botched up the apartment. Didn’t want to report defects because they’d lose their bonus.
Great. You can have it then.
No, no, one second. Dream on. Maybe we can ask a concilliatory committee.
Committee? It’s better to play roshambo.
It’s not going to pop?
No, no way. I’m risking more than you do.
– Just careful! — What!?
– Careful!!! — Yeah, yeah!
Slowly! Go up!
Go, go!
Now!
What is going on here!?
Miss Balcerkowa is taking a bath.
Get down immediately! This is against regulations!
One moment, stop shaking.
It’s not a see-saw.
A doctor spying on Balcerkowa?
Ah, Miss Balcerkowa. I told you to put up green curtains. Especially in the bathroom.
– I’m so sorry. — And don’t walk around with wet hair in such cold weather.
Alright then.
And?
A regular apartment. Three rooms. You can start moving in.
You can’t bamboozle me, mister doctor. It’s a bodge, without walls and a floor.
It’s not too bad.
Perhaps an intern was doing it, for foreman’s birthday, and started finishing the walls.
And he bricked the doors by mistake.
Since the doors never made it there.
If you don’t want it, tough luck.
We’ll report the empty flat to the building manager, they will bring on a new tenant.
You know, people are waiting years for an apartment.
– Doctor, say yes. — Stop making a fuss.
If so, I guess I can compromise. In the face of violence.
Mister neighbor, I am worrying about Angel. What if he sniffs something out?
If you could put your crane close to the window, I’ll throw away the rubble.
Okay, so I’ll move the crane under the balcony.
But be quiet!
Stop!
What’s going on?
You almost drove onto my lawn!
– What’s the problem, old man? — Just not old man, okay?
I’m a building manager here, and here’s my lawn.
Give it a rest.
What lawn? Nothing will help here.
We brought some art here, we don’t want it to get damaged.
Ah, that changes everything. Bring it in, just carefully.
Gentlemen, first move the antiques and art. And carefully, so that…
– Is that for the professor? — What professor, what are you talking about?
– To apartment number 13. — 13? Do you have a writ?
I have the keys, not a writ.
I don’t give a crap about your keys. Not letting you in without a writ.
I’ll let you know who gave me these keys.
Jan Winnicki.
Really? Just a second.
You can double check.
No, obviously I trust you.
Gentlemen, start moving! Let me show you…
I’m sorry, will mister Winnicki… apologies, comrade Winnicki…
…will he be living here by himself, or per procura?
We’ll be living here together.
I am so glad. Oh, a little piece of paper.
You see how the children are making this place filthy. It’s hard to keep them in check. Here you go…
– What have you done? — What?
See what we’ve lost because of your stupidity! Go!
Go ahead!
You fooled me, big time.
I’ll never forgive you.
Good day, neighbor.
Most respect, dearest neighbor.
Good day, when is the next bus coming? Soon?
I’ve been waiting for 40 minutes, so should be here any time.
I see miss professor has something to keep her warm.
It’s just vinegar, they were just distributing it at my school.
My God! It shattered on the tram, it was so crowded.
Do you know why? It became ice and blew up the bottle. Just a regular physical phenomenon.
I guess I’ll throw it away.
No, why? Take it home, wrap in a little cloth, put in a pot, why lose it?
I don’t like this.
I spent half the war at the Soviet city Wierchojańsk. They percolated moonshine and no one swallowed any glass.
I don’t like the smoke from the power plant.
It seems very thin.
Thin… Ah, they installed new electrofilters to protect the natural environment.
I read about it in a newspaper.
What is all this?
They knocked us out, mister director. Anti-crisis Headquarters.
They dropped in here, looking after extra reserves, noses like hounds.
And they turned back two coal trains.
I borrowed two trains from the steel plant. I have to give back three tomorrow. That was the deal.
In the meantime I got a telex from Szczecin that our coal is going there…
…because a ship has been waiting there for two weeks now. Their coal was moved to Białystok as an emergency.
The farmers took it all apart in transit. Do you know what they did?
They nailed receipts from livestock market to the train cars.
What kind of stories are you telling me here. Is this why you’re bringing me here after hours?
I am just saying they nailed receipts from livestock market since their coal went urgently through Poznań back to Śląsk as output.
Engineer, get to the point.
In all, because of some smart-ass from headquarters I had to turn off the fourth generator.
If I turn off Number 2 as well, then maybe, just enough, we’ll make due for a week.
I understand now. You will lower the temperature for a few degrees, and everything will be splendid.
Well, not really. Right now we’re already sending only 60 degrees to apartments.
If we lower it, it will be 50. That’s freezing cold.
What should we do?
I thought about it, mister director.
The longest route is to these new housing subdivisions: Ursynów, Natolin, Służew…
The longest, so energy losses are the largest. Up to 50% in the network.
Really? Up to 50%?
All the buildings there are not insulated, not plastered, gaps around windows. We’re losing 50% again.
What a story.
That’s not all. Half the apartments are empty and we’re warming up just walls. 50% is going to hell.
Unbelievable. We’re losing 150% of the warmth.
Turn it off. Immediately.
Mister director, I knew you could make the right decision.
Józiek, Józiek, do you know how expensive it is to heat up the entire apartment with gas?
Where will we find money for this?
Zośka, stupid is as stupid does.
Do you know how much do you pay for a pipe and two offsets?
– What? — Just 10 złoty.
Heniek will come, he will do a bypass around a gas meter, and no problem.
We can heat up the place, and blow balloons for free.
Józiek, Józiek, this smells like jail.
What am I supposed to do? Allow my kids to freeze to death?
I bet the professor came back and turned his heat on.
Everyone’s back and the pressure is low. We’ll have to put a coil around a brick and switch to electricity.
We never had heating issues at the old apartment, but this is civilization!
I don’t understand. Which housing subdivision?
Mine? Turn off?
Just a moment.
Froggy, cut it out. I have a decision to make.
What are the choices?
A signal jamming station?
That’s not a choice. Yeah.
Shut down the subdivision.
The lights went out.
What are you thinking of, mouse?
About you, Froggy. Darling, soon it will be colder here than outside.
You need to wait this through in Zakopane. The villa is called Wiesiula.
– Whose villa? — Mine, froggy.
Any taxi driver will take you.
I won’t leave you here in the cold. Come with me.
Wouldn’t it be nice for mouse to find a job in a warmer country?
Mouse needs to stay here precisely so that someone doesn’t arrange for him a job in a warmer country.
I won’t leave you.
Froggy, I promised you luxury and it will be so.
– And you? — I’ll wear a scarf.
Give me three packs of smokes.
And two alternatives.
Take four. Or even five.
Five then.
Who is this?
Froggy?
Who is this?
Sugar.
Won’t you let me in?
Come in.
Froggy, you look beautiful.
You know what? I will need to stay with you for a bit.
Two–three weeks.
But we had a deal. There’s Kocioł.
As long as he’s not using my toothbrush, we’ll be fine.
Unpack this, put it in the fridge.
Some little veal, little ham, beef, coffee. Took whatever was lying there.
You know what?
I really do love you.
– And Kocioł? — Him too, but differently.
And I also brought… chocolate.
Ah, sugar.
So big.
You’re staying here in warmth and people are freezing.
I understand, but what can I do?
Besides, I’m unwell.
Everyone’s unwell. But we chose you, so…
What about the super? Building manager?
He disappeared and you’re his deputy.
You arranged to have heating.
There are so many of us here that it’s warmer already.
Come to my place then, get my children warmer too.
I can’t really do anything.
The radiators are cold, the gas is shut down, so is electricity.
Mister professor, in 1944, I was in Warsaw.
Everyone was.
True. But it was the War.
Give mister Antoni a chance to speak. One would think you’re all cultured people.
Tell this guy his larynx is affected. Advise him not to speak.
And make him send his kid to me for some pills.
Did you hear it?
He said he heard it.
Ask him if his ears are hurting.
Are your ears hurting?
He says yes.
I’ll give him pills.
Doctor, bless you, I’m sorry, I have a pain in my side. Is this my lungs?
Will you let mister Antoni speak?
In 1944 after the Uprising I was in Żolibórz.
December was the worst, since in January they were giving away soup, and one didn’t need to hide.
But December was frightening.
We had a goat, but there was nothing to burn,
So we would leave in twos. One would watch out for the Germans, the other would grab anything for fuel.
A cupboard, a desk, a table, even just a chair.
One time I even organized a Ludwik XVI-style furniture, but it was hard to chop up.
Did you finish? You’re talking nonsense.
How dare you! What impertinence.
An older lady and such foul language.
Mister associate professor is a true man, one can tell. Impotence, what an idea.
I think mister Antoni is right.
Are we supposed to chop our furniture?
No, in that if we work together, in solidarity, we can go through worse.
But we need everyone to think.
I know how to finagle some coal.
– Where from? –We need to dig it up.
What? From the ground?
You can take one of the work-free Saturdays and go to the coal mine.
Alright, I will shut up, it’s just frustrating.
What coal mine, you bumpkin. In Bródno, we had a neighborhood boiler station.
Eventually they connected the buildings to Żerań, so the boiler station became a workshop.
And the leftover coal was buried so people wouldn’t steal it.
The bulldozer came, they put it down, stamped out, and it’s been there for a few years now.
We need to dig it up, transport here, problem solved.
I can do it!
This is great. We have coal now.
But we don’t have any furnaces.
May I?
There’s a garbage dump nearby. I go there to find various missing parts.
There is a locomotive there.
From the times of Grójecka or Wilanowska Railways.
All we need is to put in water, start a fire, connect the pipe to the junction in the basement…
…and we’d have heating.
This is great, but can your crane lift it?
– Narrow gauge? — Yes.
It can be lifted.
Can one of you open the window? It’s stifling here.
Two-three buckets and it will be good.
Mister Kubiak, hurry!
Mister professor, what is all this?
It’s our backup heating.
We racked our brains and came up with a splendid solution.
Oh, yeah?
What I’m seeing here is binding legal regulations being breached.
And I’ll remind you that according to a decree by the President of the Republic of Poland from 1923…
…during natural disasters all the regulations are suspended.
Which year?
Which prevent the disaster or its symptoms from being resolved. Twenty-three.
And, besides, it’s a wonderful citizen initiative.
Excuse me?
Or civil, if you will.
I hope my apartment will be sufficiently warmed up.
In the light of binding regulations, continue heating…
…friends.
I’ll head out to the city for a bit.
– Is hot water now available? — Yes!
I got the laundry started. Careful, it’s hot.
– A bucket of hot water, please. — Will be ready in a second.
Oh, how warm it is in here.
Thank you. Kids, help your mom.
Oh, you son of a bitch.
Mister director, have you read this?
Depends what is it.
I never read about heating industry since I get pissed at these hack writers.
No, about this Angel.
So we have an Angel sighting now? I knew this reform will end in a miracle.
The biblical manna from the heavens or the Baltic Sea opening and creating a passage to Sweden.
No, no Angel! The building super.
Moved the steam locomotive on his own back to his apartment building so that the tenants wouldn’t freeze.
I read it, of course I read it.
If only everyone was like him, we didn’t have to heat at all.
So how are we shutting down today? From left or right?
– Let’s toss it. — Tails, as always, right.
***Intermission***
***Part 4: Visitors***
Mister, there will be someone asking for me soon, a fellow, from Harvard. I’m at home.
Apartment 12, as you know.
– From where? — From Harvard, okay? Doctor. From America!
Little.
This room you’re renting officially through State-owned Venture “Puma.”
Super tight here.
I can show you two other rooms.
Here’s a bedroom.
Here you go.
Those rooms you can rent from me directly, without “Puma.”
Two hundred a month.
Two hundred złoty?
Two hundred papers.
Greenbacks. The lettuce.
Dollars.
They didn’t teach you very well at your philology.
And you’re going for a Ph.D.?
You know, I can find you a slave. Yeah?
Come, Teodor. Sic. Sic.
Come on, sic.
Come here. Look. It went there.
Look here, twerp.
Sic.
Fetch! Are you a hunting dog, or what?
Get in!
Excuse me.
You’re the building manager, right? I’m Abraham Lincoln.
I live here, starting today.
I wanted to take a bath.
So take a bath.
But there’s nothing there, in the machine box. Vending.
Nowhere to put in the money.
Oh, the money you give it to me.
Wait a minute.
Miss Wagner!!! Miss Wagner!
You shut down that faucet!
What?
– The tenant from upstairs wants to take a bath. — What?
You can do your laundry in the evening, shut down that faucet!
*Popular Detergent*
The sun is shining on our street today! says Sofronow.
Therefore acting on behalf of tenants’ collective, I wanted to extend my honest gratitude to Comrade Winnicki.
As he’s magnanimously agreed to cut the giant ribbon during this festivity.
In the first place, so on and so on, I wanted to thank mister Kotek.
He gave us all an example of civic duty, finagled this wonderful board based on my humble design.
Ladies and gentlemen. So, I wanted to present to you the concept of this board.
This board can be a crucial breakthrough in the tradition of extending greetings.
And it can also show an example of frugality and thriftiness.
Ladies and gentlemen, let’s say that for example the district chief wishes to come look at our building.
What do we do? We do this!
*We warmly welcome the district manager*
I also prepared two other boards.
The capital. *We greatly welcome the capital manager*
And, the country. *We cordially welcome the country manager*
And in this way, ladies and gentlemen, so and so, we’re ready for the best, so to speak.
And in the meantime, so this doesn’t look stupid, we do this.
*We welcome the building manager of Alternatywy 4*
Ladies and gentlemen, please imagine you’re in front of a butcher store.
The doors will open in a moment, the line will form, and I have ration cards for you so you can shop.
Here.
Here are the little cards.
Two for me, since the kids.
Later, the rest of you later.
– Excuse me, what’s available? — They’re not selling yet, we’re standing.
I’d like some meat.
No, this is all veins.
It’s all just bones.
Don’t be so picky, this is not pre-War!
Okay then.
Three hundred and twelve, please.
Yes?
No ham, no sausage, what do you have?
What a woman, decide now, we don’t want to stay here.
Yes, mister, women are so indecisive.
Ladies and gentlemen, you just witnessed a historic moment.
This experiment showcased world’s first Line Robot Ewa–1.
Affordable to every Pole. It can replace anyone in any sort of a line.
Saves time, nerves, health.
And no one of you realized it’s a machine, right?
We didn’t notice, but she did not buy anything after all.
Because there was nothing to buy.
So maybe I’ll bring some sausage? I can lend some.
It’s a revelation. She speaks!
Yes?
Can I get a pound of ham, but not fat bits.
– Here you go. — How much?
Hundred złoty.
Thank you. Good-bye.
What is this device that can’t tell apart sausage from ham?
You will send it to bring some bread and it’ll bring an old shoe from the trash.
And she paid a full hundred for a small piece of sausage?
A human is a human, I never brought home something else than ordered.
But those are details, we’ll raise sensitivity and selectivity…
…you won’t be able to fool here for even 25 cents or 5 grams. You’ll see.
No, this won’t work.
But where’s the sausage?
Teodor, spit it out! Spit it out or you’ll poison yourself.
My sausage! My lord, my sausage!?
*Headcheese, liverwurst, sausages, black sausage*
A pound of headcheese, or two if you want.
She’s been standing for three hours and no one noticed.
She’ll be buying in a second.
I was standing here, just left for a second.
What!? She wasn’t standing there.
No, if she’s supposed to be an autonomous unit, one cannot help her.
– Two pounds of black sausage, please. — I was in line right after this lady.
Yes, he was standing here.
And you were standing behind me.
Smoked ham delivery!!!
They brought gammon!
At least she can fix itself.
Yeah. If I lost my head, I’d become Bierdiajew.
My invention is ideal, it’s just people who are not mature enough.
They prefer standing in lines themselves.
You were not standing here, you are not pregnant.
Since all the planned activities were done before the deadline…
…and considering the free Sunday…
…I announce free time!
Excuse me, could I have a key to the drying room?
I wanted to put up my laundry.
Unfortunately, Miss Kolińska, I need to refuse.
You see, I have a choir practice today.
How would it look? How do you see this?
Patriotic songs and your, excuse me, long johns? It doesn’t behoove.
And your husband gives a bad example to other tenants. He was again late for the practice today.
How do you imagine this?
We’ll go to the inlaws, put it up in the attic, and it’ll be alright.
Wait here.
Ooh, new purchase, I see? Auction?
No, from an ad. In a very good condition.
It said “P70. Ideal condition. Low price.”
Crawl in.
You’re so kind. Whiskey?
Look here. This animal.
That’s not an animal.
It’s just a cockroach.
Cock-roach. You understand?
Just a worm. Don’t worry, it doesn’t bite.
I know. But what is it doing in my kitchen?
I didn’t know this word and brought it here so you could see.
And I do.
Cockroaches live where people live.
So don’t stress out.
What am I supposed to do with it?
I don’t know. It’s your worm.
Mine?
Also yours. Joint.
Miećka, come over here with a damn cloth.
How long will you be dillydallying with that wheel? Faster!
You need to jack it up.
Alas, I don’t have a jack.
Mister Kotek left the crane running.
You could get the car up.
Can you do that?
I can show you.
Yeah? Let’s go.
Ready! The middle one. Towards you!
Now gently with the lever.
And you’re telling me changing the tire is nothing! You idiot! Get me down right now!
Are you okay?
That’s all you can say, you klutz?
You know, it was essentially insured.
Not sure your insurance covers aerial incidents.
Give me that wire.
Are you turning it off for us, too?
Miećka, are you stupid? I’m just doing a bypass.
Give me that voltage tester.
– Good day. — What’s going on?
The power’s out again.
For god’s sake, one cannot live in this country, for the love of me.
– The football match is about to begin. — No worry, I have a TV that works on batteries.
You’re all welcome. Fifth floor.
Here you go. Welcome.
Froggy, we have visitors.
Come, no worries.
Are you glad?
It’s nice here. Beautiful here.
The candle went out.
Lovelies, come here. No worries.
Froggy, some glass, little biscuits, please.
Please, sit down.
*Until we connect to the stadium, let’s listen to some music.*
You can move it, too.
It’s starting soon.
Excuse me.
You are a man’s man. Someone else in your position would not confess to having a battery-operated TV.
There’s men and assholes. Pass the little biscuits.
You wouldn’t guess how much I had to stand in line for little biscuits yesterday.
Tell me about it. My heart is bleeding just thinking about it.
These cookies are sometimes so hard to swallow.
I told so many times above that this is not right, that we need to do something.
And what?
Complete obstinacy.
My heart is bleeding when I see this enormous effort going to waste.
And the reform?
Nothing’s going to happen.
I needed to bring meat all the way from Szczebrzeszyn.
I’ll make you happy: Soon, there will be a complete prohibition of cattle farming.
– That’s nonsense. — Yes, it is nonsense. I’m in complete agreement with you.
But they forced it through. Everyone said “nonsense.”
But then the vote, who’s for, who’s against, see no evil, hear no evil, that’s it.
– So now what? — Now we’re watching football. Starting now.
*The great match is starting now, over 50 thousand people…
*…in the tribunes of the stadium in Łódź.*
*The opposing team’s wingman is attacking Młynarczyk’s goal.*
Miss Kotek said that that apartment was cursed by a building worker.
And no one will live here for long.
The first person arrived dead, she said.
The second one, Cichocki, had enough time to just wash the windows.
And Winnicki has lived there for so long, and nothing.
I suppose he moved away when it was cold, but he’s back now.
Is he tough, or is the curse gone now?
Miećka, what are you talking about?
What could a blue-collar curse do to a comrade like Comrade Winnicki.
It’s not bad. It’s not bad!
It’s not good, either.
Let’s just hope for no worse than this.
*During the break, we’ll hope to ask him a few questions.*
*We have quite a few questions for you.*
*How do you see the dramatic proposition of Caesarean’s section of the budget?*
*The difficulties we’re seeing on the animal fodder and energy markets…*
*…are postulated to be solved in near future* *with low-cost and low-investment actions.*
*The first decision will be stopping the meat production for the period of three years.*
*This will cause animal fodder savings, especially for imported fodder.*
*And then 7.3% increase in real wages. Thank you.*
*Before the match resumes, let’s listen to some music.*
How is that? You yourself just said, it’s a…
Nonsense. I agree with you.
It is nonsense, but just outwardly.
How is it possible that you say one thing here, and then another thing there?
Easy. I’ll explain it to you in a second.
I’ll make it all clear.
First of all, you‘re all intelligent people.
And therefore I can talk straight to you.
I can tell some things as they really are.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen. As they really are.
Do you realize who’s watching television?
We studied this. Do you know what they said?
60% of people don’t understand evening news.
So you have to speak differently to these people.
You have to speak in a way they understand.
Some of the things you have to obfuscate.
Also, people don’t think.
They think only they watch TV.
We‘re very carefully watched, after all.
Not only by friends. Also by enemies.
Let’s think about the U.S.
If they realize we have difficulties with meat production, you know what happens next?
The prices of meat on the global market go like this. All the way up.
And then we have to pay those prices for all the meat.
But if we present those difficulties as deliberate actions…
…then nobody gets suspicious.
Except, maybe, our citizens.
Mister professor, our citizens won’t believe in this anyway.
Crawl in!
Good day. Maybe you can help me here. I have a problem.
There’s a package here from the U.S.A. but the recipient is hard to decipher.
I don’t know if it’s Kotek or Kołek.
Both their initials are “Z” and live in apartment number 9.
I know who this is for.
Give me that, I‘ll sign for it.
Keep this fifty.
Stasiu, aren’t you taking on too many responsibilities?
It will all be good, Miećka.
***Part 5: The downfall***
Go see who’s that.
And I’m available to no one!
The husband is not…
Oh, good day. Come, come.
You know what, mister Angel, I’ve been looking at you for a bit now.
I decided I can trust you to help me solve a personal problem.
That’s correct.
I have to leave for some time.
Business?
Yes, the Party, diplomatic post.
The worst part is that it is rather far. A few hours by plane.
I bet it’s America?
America, but I’m not sure which one.
It’s a country that starts with an “H.”
An “H”… Give me a second. I remember it.
It could be Mexico, or Texas…
Starts with an “H.”
Oh, an “H.” It will be… a moment… somewhere in South America… many countries…
Maybe it’s Ohio.
Maybe Ohio, doesn’t matter.
I have a delicate issue.
I understand. You can rely on me.
The issue is that I want nobody in the apartment.
And Miss Jola…
No, not her either. It wasn’t a deep affection, you know.
She’ll move in, bring in all sorts of stuff, it will take half a year to move it all out.
I just don’t want to trouble her, you know? She’s been through a lot.
I know, mister, all about the hoes. They can mess with your head, I can tell you a story or two.
The other issue is that I have a plant there. It’s a cactus, but it still needs some water.
And then just air stuff out. My plane leaves in an hour.
There’s some coffee, make yourself at home.
Even more so than my home.
Splendid. I knew I can count on you. Good-bye.
Miećka, come over here.
Look? This is Honduras. So tiny.
I knew that you couldn’t fully hang yourself under him.
This worker’s curse has an effect after all.
“What does the doctor ask?”
“What’s hurting you? Did you go to school yesterday?”
“What does the kid respond? I feel bad.”
Zenek?
Are you there?
Yes?
– I’m bored. — Turn on the TV.
There should be a new half-hour news programme, “The minute of truth.”
A minute? An entire minute of truth?
What’s with the package? Anybody can screw you over.
He says that the recipient might just as well be “Kotek.”
So that there’s no injustice, we need to write a letter to the sender to clarify who did they mean to send it to.
This package was sent by Seven Adventists Of Whatever Day, all the way from Alaska.
The letter will take half an hour to arrive there. And all the food will go to hell.
Can’t you make a deal with the crane guy?
You can claim the package is for him and there’s no debacle.
Angel will give it to him, and we’ll split it in half.
It’s better than nothing.
Angel said he can split it into two equal halves, but!
He’ll keep everything that’s uneven or indivisible.
Look, here. Divisible, divisible. Divisible, divisible.
Uneven. Uneven. Uneven.
I’d prefer to throw it all way.
But you don’t know what’s in the package!
It could be cream, chocolate…
…maybe even ham?
Or detergent?
No, no, please talk to him.
I’m not going to deal with this enema of a man.
So what do you want, like cat and dog under one roof?
You know what I’d prefer? A brain fistula, rather than dealing with that scoundrel.
Stasiu, if I can’t get the staples, then what?
Buy a ball of wire. I’ll make them myself.
– Is the husband home? — Yes, come in.
What’s up?
Mister manager, there are some youngsters with posters milling around.
Oh, like I’m going to let them put up posters, let’s go.
Wait.
Vodka toast for healthy host!
Dad, what is this?
It’s cheese, son.
But there are holes in it. Ilona probably put them there.
I saw you doing it!
Easy, kids. Don’t rat each other out.
Drink up.
Salut, neighbor.
– I’m Zygmunt. — Zdzichu.
What pervs.
Why not.
Ouch, Miećka, you’re in trouble.
Despite multitude of responsibilities, Stanisław Angel agreed to answer the most burning question.
What do you think about the general situation?
Oh, well.
In answer, we’ve established a series of investments in all the areas.
But that won’t be enough. We all have to get to hearty, just work.
Stanisław Angel was appointed as the ambassador plenipotentiary.
Stanisław Angel was born into a blue-collar family in Pułtusk.
After completing primary schools, he formed a successful union with the daughter of city’s chief, Mieczysława.
Having finished all the rungs of city administration, he moves to Warsaw to participate in physical and civic labor.
And his activity is rewarded by a prestigious national commendation.
I don’t remember this.
Oh, it’s nothing.
After another divorce, he marries Jolanta Winnicka.
Further positions are accompanied by more successes of the entire society.
During the Fifth Congress of Guardian Angels, he’s appointed The Archangel.
Hello?
*Comrade, I’m sorry, but we have here this* *pharmacy director. The 30 million dollars thing.*
– What? *– Dollars.*
Did he exchange his doggone brains with someone?
*Indeed, we had our suspicions too.*
*There are more important necessities than putting* *this much money into suppositories for retirees.*
*I am glad you are of correct opinion, comrade Winnicki.*
*Are you still there?*
*Halo, comrade Winnicki!? Halo?*
Yes, I understand. All’s good.
Thirty million dollars.
Well, I guess, why not?
One second!
*Tomczuk here. They called from the City Hall that the* *delegation of world’s mayors is coming the day after tomorrow.*
And?
*No housing subdivision for them to visit has been selected yet.*
*You know, this appointment with television at 4pm.*
Tomaszczuk, listen. You have something to write with?
*– Yes.* — So write.
Ursynów. Alternatywy 4. Clear?
*Yessir, comrade Winnicki.* *I will make sure the building manager is ready.*
No need. The manager already knows.
*Thank you.*
So there.
Mister Kotek! Do you know where Woronicza Street is?
More or less.
You will drive to the television station, find a guy named Wiśniewski.
He will give you a gate, and you will bring this gate back on this hook.
And we will place it in front of the building so it’s there to welcome distinguished guests.
Give me a break.
Mister Kotek, if you do well…
…maybe I can correctly read the name on that package.
How can I find that Wiśniewski?
Everybody knows him there. Go.
Doctor, come over here.
What do you think about this?
What am I supposed to think?
I mean, this doesn’t make any sense.
I said that! Yesterday.
Not this. This! This doesn’t make sense. *We warmly welcome the district manager*
I think we should put something here.
“We welcome managers of the world.” What?
Doctor, take some paint and a brush, and fix it. Okay?
– I will grab Mister Kotek… — Doctor.
If you do well, maybe I will read your name on that package.
I don’t know if I can…
Like the saying goes, a Pole always can.
So. Here we will build the tenants’ lounge.
These rags need to get the fuck out.
So does this junk.
And these pipes. Mister Lincoln, come here.
Paint these pipes in different colors. À la Picasso.
He’s a painter.
And I hold you personally responsible.
What kind of a lounge is this, with taters here.
Potatoes you will move to Kolińska.
If she complaints, tell her I ordered it.
Doctor!!!
What kind of gross stuff is this?
It’s old transmission fluid, I changed it in my car.
Doctor, take it and hide in the junkyard so it’s not here in plain sight.
Also, paint me another board, saying “Tenants’ Lounge.”
And an arrow. We’ll put it next to basement door.
– The gate is ready. — Finally.
But there’s a problem. The gate is a bit narrow, so that if any bigger car catches it…
Wait, wait, wait.
I know. We will welcome distinguished guests with bread and salt. And then they will walk by foot.
Mister Kotek and I agree with your arbitration.
What’s indivisible is for you.
Finally.
Gentlemen, we have an agreement. Everything that’s not even belongs to me.
Mister manager, we’re not playing this game.
Please, take all of them, but I will inform whoever’s necessary.
Gentlemen, I’m sorry, but nobody touched this package.
This is the post office’s fault.
You didn’t need to take it then.
Wait, a moment, gentlemen.
Maybe I can arrange for some reparations, from my own toil.
– Alternatywy 4? — Correct.
Ordered… and delivered.
All handsome piece, just this morning still standing in Łazienki Park.
No roots, easier to dig in. They will survive for a week.
Great. No one will need a tree here in a week.
Miss Kolińska! Don’t you throw a monkey wrench here.
Don’t by hysterical when the fate of the entire building is at at stake.
Miss Kolińska! As the delegation leaves we’ll collectively clean this up.
Now rush to work on the trees! Now!
Gentlemen! Grab the piano!
My lord! My piano! No way!
Miss Kolińska, it’s in your best interest.
The piano gets taken to the basement… Miss Kolińska!
…and then we bring it back up. Rush to the trees!!!
Alright, Mister Kubiak. From the spine. Hey!
Mister professor, in the general and well-understood interest of all residents…
…we made a commitment to furnish our new Tenants’ Lounge on our own.
We’re interested in this couch…
…and these armchairs.
Kotek and Kołek will move this down for some time to the basement.
Mister doctor offered his carpet.
Of course it will be a lounge like a Potemkin village?
We’re not afraid of good precedents. Gentlemen, take this couch.
*Tenants’ Lounge*
Miss Balcerkowa.
Yes, mister manager.
– Are the children ready? — Yes, have been for a while now.
You tell your husband to wear the dark suit.
– The wedding one? — Yes, that one.
– And tell him to bring the accordion. — I’ll go and grab him.
Nice, nice, professor.
Professor and mister Majewski are playing chess, the bride will be sitting there.
Miss Kolińska, play something on the piano, and sing nicely. I have to run. Keep the chin up.
Children, remember, the flowers only after the gate.
And always in front of the delegation.
For the love of God, children, remember.
Can’t see them. Maybe they’re lost.
They will find their way. Sit down.
Always the same with delegations.
One of the cousins was telling me… He’s a server and often serves those delegations…
…that those diplomatic types are always late.
But no surprise. Instead of drinking like people it’s all chit-chat.
Before someone in diplomacy is allowed to grab a drink, he’ll be hearing…
…about Friendship Between Nations, or Peace…
Ladies and gentlemen!
We can begin.
They’re coming!!! Put down that cigarette.
A taxicab.
Maybe they won’t come.
Maybe they found out.
Wait a second. I’ll go to the building, make sure everything is okay.
It is okay, what would not be okay. Sit down.
What do you mean sit down?
People are working, and those are already drinking champaigne For Comradeship.
– I need to go. — Sit down.
One of the cousins visited America and told me…
…well, whenever he could speak, since he accidentally drank hydrochloric acid while hungover.
He told me that their constructor also invented a lady robot.
Supposedly looked like she was alive. But he didn’t foresee one thing.
Once he let this tarted-up lady go downtown, she came back preggers.
And she wouldn’t allow her hoovered, since she said she’s practising.
Eeh, you’re telling nonsense.
I swear on my mother’s grave this is true.
You don’t know life.
There are things a building manager wouldn’t dream of.
Shut up!
They’re coming! Definitely they’re coming!
Get rich or die tryin’, in the words of Hamlet.
Balcerek, play “Happy birthday!”
So, then. I have the honor to welcome distinguished guests.
On behalf of the collective of residents of Alternatywy 4.
This incredible distinction is an expression of recognition from authorities of our previous accomplishments.
And, simultaneously, an incentive for further worthy accomplishments.
Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing a historical event.
The representatives of the third world are visiting us.
Us, a Warsaw housing subdivision, close to every Pole’s warm heart.
And we have things to be proud of. We have tenants’ lounges, special interests groups.
Now we’re here in a housing subdivision in Warsaw.
And at the same time, and so on and on, well…
…please cut the celebratory ribbon.
Great.
And now, so to speak, and so on, traditionally! With bread and salt.
Excuse me.
With bread and salt welcome the residents of Alternatywy 4 their distinguished guests.
The tree lane seems to be bowing down in a welcoming gesture.
Gentlemen, what is this!?
Mister Balcerek!
*A cripple prays for mercy*
Come on. Here you go.
Come in.
Gentlemen, this is starting to look interesting.
Hide the camera.
*Angel GTFO*
Mother of God.
I don’t understand anything.
And?
I don’t know anything. I have cotton for a brain.
Wait, you know what. I have a lounge. Let’s take a look.
He’s drunk, no way he’ll catch her. If he was sober, there would be something to look at.
Welcome, please, we have a tenants’ lounge, after me.
Downstairs.
Full house.
Aces over kings.
We’re not finished.
They’re calm today. They expected the delegation, so they hold back.
This is a scandal, gentlemen!
…joint labor of the entire collective, yeah. Joint labor.
…joint labor of the entire collective.
We were building.
Halt! It’s this guy.
No, it’s not him!
He’s the calmest tenant in the world, but he’s looking for a guy who ran away with his wife!
Take all your fucking clothes, and leave!
Careful, move away.
You bitch!
You want to try? Go ahead. Try! You won’t fly, you bar whore.
You skank, well? Go ahead! That’s it. Try! Interesting.
It’s nothing. It’s only the psycho going berserk.
Mister manager, why aren’t the wastebins out?
Just a moment!
How long do I have to wait?
Coming!
You don’t seem in a hurry, mister manager.
I’m getting a hang of this.
Here you go.
Mister Chicocki, associate professor’s dog shat on my doormat.
Take care of it straight away.
Yes, going there right now.
Mister manager!
This corridor is very filthy. Staircase. Clean it up. The children will dirty their hands.
I’ll dust it off immediately.
*Save power*
I have great news for residents of Alternatywy 4.
The Congress of City Mayors decided to take your building under special care.
This implies serious money.
The distribution of those funds will be the job of the new supervisor of this neighborhood.
Here he is.
*Starring…*
***The end***