Who's there?
Crazy...
A Visitor to the Museum
Written and Directed by
Konstantin Lopushanskij
What do you want from me?
Where's the railroad line around here?
I'm looking for the dump train.
The garbage train - where does it stop?
Come inside.
Come in quickly, you're letting the dust in.
This way...
Can I have some water, please?
Sure, sure.
It's the dust.
The cups are dirty...
The dust here is terrible.
It's better if you cover your mouth.
The dust is bad for you.
Drink. -Thank you.
The garbage train will be another hour at least.
You can rest here.
Would you like something to eat?
We run a tavern here, very reasonable prices.
Thank you, I'm not hungry.
Maybe a cup of coffee and a sandwich?
Come this way.
What's that in the windows? Why is it burning?
To keep them out of the house.
There's a reservation nearby. The degenerates.
They climb through the windows.
Especially at night.
What a fright.
They're scared of fire, though.
They're generally scared of fire, remember that.
You're here for the first time, no?
First time.
Going to the factory?
No, the weather station.
Do they pay well? - Where?
The station. Aren't you going to work there?
No, I'm just a tourist.
I'd like to visit the Museum. The one that's flooded.
Ah, the museum. The whole world's gone mad.
Many people going?
Just the opposite. That's not the point.
What is it then?
Many of them don't make it.
They don't understand the sea. It’s no joke.
They told me the low tide lasts 7 days.
Three days there, three back.
What is the sea floor like when the water goes?
It's a desert.
You can lose your way, and the tide comes quickly.
A big wave comes and it's all over.
What if you take a life vest?
A life vest? Good luck. It's your business.
I understand, you'd like some pictures of the museum.
I mean your own, not something out of a book.
I don't need photos.
I want to touch it with my own hands.
Go on and eat. I'll be back with coffee.
A tourist?
I'm asking you. - Yes, a tourist.
Maybe he'll take a room upstairs?
Tell him.
Why don't you say something?
He's made arrangements at the weather station.
So what?
It's cheaper here, and he gets free board.
Tell him.
I already told him. - And?
Father, put some clothes on!
Pay no attention, he's mad.
Why don't you mind your business!
You never let me talk to a real human being.
Can you tell fortune from the book?
Tell my fortune.
Open at any place.
Point your finger.
Close your eyes first.
“…neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.”
What does it mean rose from the dead?
What could it mean?
I don't know.
What?
I don't know.
Do it again.
“What is man, that thou art mindful of him?”
“and the son of man, that thou visitest him?”
Plenty of room, as you can see. But it is cold.
Maybe on the other side of the house?
There's a nice room there, especially reserved for you.
No, I like it here very much. Really.
Please take this. - Why, it can wait.
All meals are served in the dining room.
I can bring them up to the room.
Don't trouble yourself.
I will call you down to dinner then.
Fashions changing again.
Is it alright without sound?
I don't like when it's noisy.
Here you go.
Are you done? What do you say?
Bon appetit.
You can go.
Thank you.
Forgive me, I forgot to ask you.
If you mind, they can eat downstairs.
No, no... Who are they?
They're like servants.
Distant relatives... -Right.
Brother and sister. Both came from the reservation.
We keep them as servants, there's too much work here for us.
We're educating them as best we can.
You should have seen them a year ago.
I don't know what they teach them at the reservation.
Nothing, that's the trouble.
I'll have you know that 40% of children
are born degenerate every year.
You can imagine what we're facing.
I beg you not to mention the museum in front of them.
Sure... why?
The degenerates have a religious holiday at low tide.
Priests, etc., religious psychosis, hysteria.
There may be a disturbance.
At the reservation, of course, not here.
You mean the Feast of Branches?
Yes, branches.
Strange...
What is?
Yes, what is strange?
Aren't they afraid of fire?
But they light the branches on fire...
Nothing strange here. They worship what they fear.
Don't we have anything better to talk about than degenerates?
Tell us what news there is in the city.
Do you live in the city or the suburbs?
I'm in the city, basically downtown.
Then tell us about it.
I don't know what to say. Nothing new, I guess...
You'll have to take some water with you.
Food and water are most important.
Do you have a map?
Yes, of course.
The terrain is difficult. The sea floor is slimy.
Uneven too.
This is the place. You'll start from here.
The degenerates don't go to the Museum?
Of course not. They're too weak.
You have to be in very good shape.
Seven days of travel is no joke.
Not every healthy man can take it.
Have you ever tried it?
What do I need it for?
There is a stench here, can you smell it?
Chemicals? – Yes, chemical waste.
The sea is basically dead.
Have there been other visitors recently?
We had many here.
Not everyone stays with us.
There was a girl with some guys last year.
They only walked half way and came back.
They were afraid of getting caught in the tide.
A married couple came two years ago.
They drowned.
I guess they didn't count the days right.
Or maybe they lost their way.
To tell the truth, many people die here.
Better think it over carefully.
What is it?
Don't worry, it's nothing.
The Mound is the main thing.
The heart of the Museum.
No mound in here, though.
What about the encyclopedia?
Only pictures there.
Hold on... Let me think...
What makes you think the Mound is the main thing?
The Museum is a city first and foremost.
A city.
Who knows...
The priests in their so-called sacred texts...
What? What about the priests?
... speak of the Mound, the Museum.
And a path shall open from this age to the beginning of time.
An ancient city will be revealed
with its great mysteries.
A mound will stand outside the city
upon which rises... and so forth.
That's what it says, so the Mound is the main thing.
Enough. How can you take seriously all that nonsense?
The priests' texts are not as naive as it seems.
I didn't say naive. I'm saying crazy.
The priests are just another kind of degenerates.
Don't kid yourself about that.
I can allow them their own degenerate culture, religion...
Why not?
Madness is not an argument.
Our own culture has a trace of it too.
"Let him become a fool that he may be wise..."
"For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God."
I believe Paul said that, the Apostle.
He had something else in mind.
Why's that? Essentially the same thing.
Come in.
I forgot to mention it,
you’ll have to register with the Inspection.
It's silly, but rules are rules.
Does it have to be today?
Today. It's mandatory.
What if I don't register? I'll just be a few days.
Sorry, not allowed. We can get in trouble.
Anyone going to the Museum must register.
Certainly... Where is this Inspection?
At the Reservation, on factory grounds.
The maid will take you there.
She's going there for a vaccine shot anyway.
Ah, there's the dinner bell. We'll wait for you.
Who are the people in the basement?
They're our guests.
Is that so? Guests?
From the Reservation? Is that what you mean?
It's the Feast of the Branches.
The Master permitted it. I never ask for anything.
Just once a year.
I did permit it, for a very short time. Just for the Feast.
Very humane of you, and pedagogical, too.
Maybe I should leave my house, so I don't get in the way?
Please, it's nothing so terrible.
Listen here, I don't want your monkey guests
coming out into the hallway.
They are not to wander anywhere outside the basement.
I don't want to hear any cries or noises.
Got it?
I understand.
I promise.
Bon appetit.
Thank you very much
for your pleasant company.
Get out!
There was a city here?
Where? - Here.
Maybe. I don't remember.
Tell me, can I see the priests?
Just to take a look.
Can you show me where they are?
Who? - The priests.
What is it, a temple?
What is it called? - Nothing.
It's by the village, behind the Reservation.
Will they let me in? - No.
What do I need to do to get in?
You have to pray.
Knock on the wall?
Knock and repeat the words.
What words?
Let me out of here. You say it many times.
Is that it? - That's it.
We only have one prayer.
Let me out of where? The Reservation?
Out of here... in general.
What is that?
So, you're going to the Museum?
You have to fill out this form.
Write at the bottom:
I have been warned of possible dangers.
I agree not to hold the Inspection responsible.
What's it for, anyway?
Just in case.
Not afraid of drowning?
I'm counting on my luck.
Some people are lucky, it's true.
But why risk your life, just to see some ruins?
It probably stinks to high heaven.
All the chemical waste, it goes to the bottom.
It's your business, I just have to warn you.
Check it out. Latest fashion. - Where's you get it?
We got a whole load of them from the dump train.
Like new. - I'll be right back.
Who's there?
What?
What do you want?
What are you doing here?
The Mistress is shouting.
The Mistress. You hear?
If you're scared, you can stay here.
No, you...
What about me?
You come down to us, I'm not allowed here.
...they will progress. They've already learned so much!
It's vile, perverse, can't you see that!
How dare you! They're our children!
Let us out of here! Let me out of here!
It is a curious psychological phenomenon.
Everyone says: an ecological catastrophe.
So what happens next? Nothing.
You can't shut down factories, or stop experiments.
A vicious circle.
Personally, I think we couldn't freeze the glaciers, either.
Water levels will keep rising. That's a fact.
You're thinking another flood?
Would that surprise you? A flood, naturally.
A real-life flood. In about 50 years.
None of us will be alive for it, of course.
That's why nobody cares about it.
Would you like some tea with milk?
Yes, please.
Tea with milk purifies the blood.
I read it in some magazine.
Pardon us, please.
I'm sorry. I don't understand. It's somebody else. It's not me.
Somebody's torturing me. It's not me. I don't know who...
Let us go over yesterday's lesson.
What has man created in his time on earth?
Man has created a trash heap.
Not a trash heap, but material goods.
Cities, goods. Now you say it.
Man has created goods.
Pardon me. May I look at the maps?
Of course.
Right. Let's move on.
What was the mistake? Can you tell me?
Man has forgotten himself.
Back to square one, I see.
Come on, concentrate.
What is this here?
It's a curse.
Fine, let's speak in metaphors.
I agree that it's a curse.
But how is it expressed, through what processes?
In that God has hidden himself and Hell reigns...
Where?
Wherever there is man, there is Hell.
It is written, if you are born here you are damned.
Fine, what else does it say?
It says, lusting after pleasure shall devour you...
Enough! I don't want to hear about your scriptures!
Think about it!
What sort of prayer is it, knocking on walls?
What holy powers? What sacred pages?
They're not sacred, they're made of paper.
It's all madness, ignorance and superstition.
Sure, such sentiments are inevitable
in an age of ecological catastrophies.
But rational man must confront them.
I don't want to hear about any god!
He doesn't exist, never existed!
Hello. I would like to see the monastery.
Can you take me to the priests?
Man, look upon yourself and despair.
For Nature has never beheld anything so vile.
Your name is deceit, your actions are hypocrisy.
Everything you touch shall be defiled,
living and dead, trees and stones, the air, animals and fish.
Everything shall be poisoned and distorted.
For your lust shall in the end devour you.
You have turned the earth into the refuse heap of your defilements,
and buried it under mounds of the remains of your pleasures.
Suffocating under the weight of your insatiability
you continue to clamor for more.
Let the prophecy we have received be realized,
for it was said:
the depths of the sea shall reveal the mysteries of the past.
And the path from our days to the beginning of times.
And the ancient city with its grand mysteries shall be revealed.
And the Mound near the city, with its the eternal sanctuary.
And he that ascends to the Mound shall be heard.
And his name is the Presaged One.
And there was another Prophecy, may it be realized.
And an Intercessor shall be sent to you,
an advocate for your salvation.
And he shall intercede for you before the Seat of Justice.
His petition shall be your prayers and suffering.
But he shall not know his mystery or understand his path.
He shall be deaf and blind like all abiding in the final days.
But he shall sense the wings of his angel,
for the name of his Angel is Sorrow.
And let the Prophecy be realized, for it is said:
An intercessor shall come in the final days
and a great sorrow shall be his from his birth.
And he shall have nothing but the great sorrow,
neither the gift of prophecy nor of healing,
neither providence, nor the gift of tongues.
But he shall be heard on account of the prayers of the desperate.
For the one interceding for you is the final Intercessor,
there shall be no other. Amen.
Lord! Let us out of here!
I've gotten my coat dirty.
Leave it, the maid will clean it in the morning.
Thank you.
Are you mad?
Why did you go there?
Don't you understand how it will end?
How? How do things end, anyway?
Go on...
No, it's really some kind of temporary insanity.
I only have four weeks of vacation,
and I spend a whole week at a dump site!
Don't get me wrong, it's lovely here.
I mean everything else around here.
No, it's really incredible.
You're absolutely right. We'll miss you of course.
But I understand you completely.
Frankly, I was surprised at first.
A normal, healthy man in his prime,
no abnormalities, as they say,
and yet such wild fantasies.
All that about Museums,
risking your life on a field trip...
A field trip! Exactly! It's ridiculous.
Spending my vacation wandering around a dump!
I can just see my city friends laughing at me!
Oh, what a birthday gift!
Is it your birthday? - Yes!
Why are you up?
What happened?
You're leaving?
Stop! You can't! I beg you!
Please! Please!
We don't have anyone except for you!
I told them you're going to the Museum!
Everyone's counting on you!
Who did you tell?
The priests! - Who told you to?
I'm guilty! Punish me!
Just don't leave!
I'm begging you!
I don't have anybody else besides you!
What does it have to do with me!
I'm going! I have to go! You understand?
I have work to do in the city!
Stop! Stop!
What's with you and the dump train?
You'll get to the end of the dump, then what?
All the boats have gone home.
What do you mean?
The low tide. Don't you know that?
At least seven days.
You'll be stuck at the edge of the dump for a week.
There's nowhere to stay there.
Meanwhile you can stay here, cheaply.
Want to check out a room?
Later.
My god, what difference does it make?
As you like.
I keep reading, but I don't understand a thing.
All my life I'm reading.
Are you gonna keep bothering people?
Why don't you tell my fortune.
Just close your eyes.
"O Lord, I know that the way of man is not in himself"
"it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps."
What does it mean?
Completely incomprehensible.
Can you explain it to me?
What is it? Are you ill?
What?
What do you need?
Is it your heart?
I can't hear. What is it?
The sorrow! The sorrow!
If all has been foretold, then it's a prison!
Like marionettes...
Running around like a hysteric...
I'm telling you, he's one of them.
We have to call the Inspection.
He's a degenerate. A runaway.
Didn't you hear?
They run away and live like normal people!
Will you listen to yourself!
We have to report it to the Inspection!
Fine, fine! I'll report it!
Now get out of here! Nobody asked you.
Do you hear me?
They can kill you! They will kill you!
Not now, for christ's sake!
I warned you, they can tear you to pieces!
Drink!
Shame! Shame!
Forgive me! Forgive me!
Wait!
"Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord."
"From the desolation of the earth I beseech thee, O Savior."
"Give ear, O Lord, unto my prayer,"
"and attend to the voice of my supplications."
"Do not requite me for my iniquities"
"and forgive the sin of my ignorance,"
"Holy God, Holy Power, have mercy upon me."
"Cast me not away from thy presence;"
"and take not thy holy spirit from me."
Forgive my pride, O Lord,
as I enter into your holy desert,
and approach the seat of your Justice,
with the words of your psalmist upon my heart.
As it is written,
"Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle?"
"who shall dwell in thy holy hill?"
"And they that know thy name"
"will put their trust in thee" as it is written,
"Thou shalt hide them in the secret of thy presence."
Lord, instill understanding in my heart,
and give absolution to one wandering all of his days,
so that my sinful spirit shall know thy truths.
For one dwelling in this world is blind
and shrouded in interminable darkness.
Do not abandon me, O Lord.
I stand before thee, O Lord,
and my spirit is like dust in thy hand.
Lord, king of heaven,
myriads of stars upon thy palm,
hear the cry of a grain of sand.
For the grains of sand are numberless,
and the deserts of time are limitless.
How shall I reach thee?
Who shall dare lift up his eyes
and gaze upon the radiance of thy name?
Who shall fathom your limitless mystery?
Lord, Lord, my God,
hear the cries of my heart,
like the prodigal son I prostrate myself before thee.
Bestow wisdom upon me, for the ways of man
are dreadful in the dark ignorance of thy words.
But what mortal shall know thy secret,
and raise the veil of thy mystery,
the day and the hour foretold by thee.
Thou hast said, I shall rain fire upon the earth.
What does it mean?
You foretold the end of the world, but did not say why.
Do we have a choice then?
It is written, "the way of man is not in himself"
"it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps."
Holy God, Holy Power, have mercy upon us.
My faith is in thee alone.
As it is written, "For the needy shall not always be forgotten:"
"the expectation of the poor shall not perish for ever."
Our Father, have mercy upon me, a sinner.
I'm going, O Lord .
I remember... I must have some sleep...
Lord, do not abandon me.
Lord!
Where shall I go?
Help me!
Lord, let me live!
Lord, how much time...
How much time do I have, O Lord?
Lord, it is I, man!
Hear my cries, O Lord, I beseech thee!
Let them out of here!
Answer their prayer, and reward their faith,
for they suffer for the sins of others.
Why shall your chosen ones suffer,
why shall they be damned?
Let them die. Let them out of here.
Let them out of the world.
Everything in this world is damned!
Everything shall perish!
Everything in this world is a lie!
And the Devil is the father of lies!
You had said, the whole world is mired in lies,
and there is not a single righteous man!
You said so! Let them out, Lord!
Who's there?
THE END