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THE WISHING TREE
Scenes from the life of a pre-Revolutionary Georgian village
Based upon short stories by Georgy Leonidze
Screenplay by Revaz Inanishvili Tengiz Abuladze
Directed by Tengiz Abuladze
Director of Photography Lomer Akhvlediani
Production Designer Revaz Mirzashvili
Music by Bidzina Kvernadze Yakov Bobokhidze
Text translated into Russian and narrated by poet Mikhail Kvlividze
Marita - L. Kavzharadze, Gedya - S. Dzhachvliani, Shete - Z. Kolelishvili
Tsitsikore - K. Daushvili, Pupala - S. Chiaureli, loram - K. Kavsadze
Bumbula - E. Mandzhgaladze Elioz - O. Megvinetukhutsesi
Okhrokhine - R. Chkhikvadze
Chachika - G. Gegechkori, Maradiya - S. Takaishvili, Batula - G. Khobua
Tagriya - D. Gaganidze Koriya - B. Tsipuriya
Ninutsa - I. Khobua, Ninore - M. Makhviladze, Nargiza - T. Tuayeva
Slap-Lad - D. Abashidze Mother of Shete - T. Burbutashvili
Order of Lenin "Georgia-Film" Studio, 1976
Gedya, your horse is dying on the hillside.
Tetra, what's the matter?
It's me, Gedya.
Gedya. Don't you recognize me?
Hurry up!
- We'd better not torture his blood. - Save him, Uncle Tsitsikore.
No one can help him anymore.
Get up, Gedya.
Get up, boy.
I told you many times: Don't graze cattle on the hillside.
See? Even horses die now. The grass here is poisonous.
Why poisonous?
In olden times there had been great battles here.
Lots of enemies were laid down.
The hostile blood's still taking its revenge.
Still warring with us.
Just look at this loafer!
Hey, you stupid, you sleeping again?
What is it? What happened?
The deceased are missing you in the other world,
and you're idling away your life here.
Why such unfairness? Our glorious Tsar Irakly
is lying in his grave, and you're rotting alive here.
What a nuisance! As soon as I doze off, he is here.
Standing over me like a guard and cursing.
I can't make this world better anyway.
Why not have an extra minute of sleep?
Who ever heard of it - fencing off a pasture?
Cattle has been grazing here for years and nothing ever happened.
Hostile blood - to think of such a thing!
So what if Tsitsikore's ordered that? He's not a god, is he?
Be quiet, or he may hear you.
We can neither drink nor sleep
without his permission.
Who appointed him our boss?
Have you gone mad?
Ragamuffins! Slaves!
Dimwits and blockheads!
Here!
Do you see this?
And I won't even get my stomach upset.
God forbid if you get it upset, too.
You wretched beggars!
Village rot! Philistines!
Please help me, Uncle Tsitsikore, slap my boy.
The fortune-teller said he won't get well
until a man from a noble family slaps him.
Why me? Take him to town.
There're many noble people there.
Why me? Take him to town.
You're from a noble family, too. Slap him once.
The man should be from a noble family, and who am I?
You're our father and teacher. Slap him.
The boy's sick, he won't grow.
Him not growing?
Of course not. His grandfather was twice as big.
Slap the boy. I'm not asking you to do it for free.
I've brought you a present.
You see, people,
nobody got sick in olden times, and now everyone's going mad.
This antichrist has his pockets full of bombs.
Good-for-nothings! Loafers and idiots!
May this life be damned!
Ioram, in which pocket do you have bombs?
People say you make them at night. Is it true?
Listen to me, children, and remember.
The sun of Georgia has fallen down
into the deep of the Black sea.
O my poor Motherland!
Battered by storms, torn by ravens,
a bleeding, wounded she-eagle,
a lifeless snow leopard... My Motherland is perishing.
I put my trust in You, God.
Give us strength for a revival.
See your rebirth, Georgia!
The time of bookish dreamers has passed.
Today we need to act!
Do not lose hope.
We shall still have another David the Builder,
the great Rustaveli and the sun-faced Tamar.
See your rebirth, Georgia!
Let's take a vow, children...
Those rascals have run away.
O, "Prince's papila".
- Hello, Elioz. - Hello, Chachika.
- You've come for good? - Yes, for good.
I marked a year since my wife died, took my daughter and came here.
Who can look after her better than her grandmother?
- You're right. - Digging a well?
No, not a well.
- Searching for the magic stone. - Magic stone?
Has the sun come down to the earth?
Stop torturing him, Gedya.
Go home, son, before he breaks your neck.
Leave him alone.
Snow! It's snowing!
It's snowing!
We're here, Grandma!
Thank God!
My baby, my precious child.
The joy of my life.
My dear hands, my little fingers, my eyes.
My poor orphan.
Hello, son.
Come in the house. Come on, my dear orphans.
Let me go, let go.
I'm looking at you, melting
like pig's lard, and dreaming,
dreaming that you'll be mine, child, my pretty lamb.
Oh, what is this? How beautiful!
How can that cannibal Okhrokhine know
that man is not a "homo sapiens", but a "homo moralis"?
You're an apostate, evildoer and knave!
- Here's the stone. - Get up, you wretch!
This is it,
the sacred stone emanating light and warmth...
What are you nosing out there? What?
The sovereign, precious stone,
sanctified by the hand of the great Gorgasali.
Notwithstanding my double pleurisy, you're a scoundrel!
The destroyer of Georgia!
Children, take the stone back to its sacred place.
Come here, Judas Iscariot.
What are you doing? What? Destroying my home?
Get away, Pharisee! You traitor! You leech!
Just try and touch that sacred stone!
Don't come near or I'll shoot!
He's crazy, son of a bitch!
Look at this one, drunk as a pig.
He's crazy himself and he's driving the children crazy.
Down with the tsar! Down with the police! Down with the priests!
Long live freedom, equality and brotherhood!
I can't wait to see your shaggy head on the guillotine.
Look at her.
Recognize her? Now away with you, devil!
Did you see him disappear?
No, he's not crazy. He makes bombs in his barn at night.
If it were not for you, he would've blown up the village long ago.
Why are you so devilishly beautiful?
Come on, have pity on me.
Come to me.
Hey, girl!
My child, my daughter.
Daughter of a bitch!
Have mercy, O God!
You don't walk, you flutter, my birdie.
Don't be sad, maidens, Mother, don't grieve anymore,
Farewell, our dears, We're going to war.
Hello, Uncle Ipro.
Give us your blessing, we've been called up, Uncle Ipro.
Drink to our health.
Be strong, boys, go with a song.
And remember, the bullet fears the brave. May you win!
Thank you. Take care.
Girls, give us at least one kiss.
We're going to war, we may not return,
let me kiss you at least once.
Be so kind, let me kiss you.
Look at Nargiza. It's the 10th time today that she comes for water.
Look at her wiggling her ass.
And it's not only Father.
Every lad knows that she has a birthmark under her left breast.
Why is she dragging that poor boy?
What else can she do, the hapless one?
- Hello, neighbors. - Hello, Marusi.
She must have come to the fortune teller.
The fortuneteller can't help the boy. His medicine is Nargiza.
I have no need for you.
- Isn't that Gulizari's son? - That's him, that's Shete.
Too bad such a boy is still unmarried.
Pupal!
Hiding from the sun? Afraid of getting a tan?
Go to hell, little devil.
May the earth swallow you!
Motley moth!
There're so many vicious people in this world.
How's your Shiola doing? Are you getting married?
Come... come, don't be afraid.
Come here, I'll give you something.
Here's a candy.
Sit down.
Here, eat it.
Give me a cucumber.
What's your name?
Georgy. And Batula, too.
- And your last name? - Leonidze.
Why are you teasing me? Did I do you any wrong?
Why do you make me curse you?
Come on, why are you listening to her?
Let her talk, it won't make her beak fall off.
You little rascal!
It must be hiding on the bottom.
- Looking for a golden fish? - Of course.
Aren't you afraid of snakes? There's all kind of vermin here.
Every rose has its thorn.
Go on, search. Only those who search will find.
Pupala's coming!
Hello, hello!
Hello, Pupala. We haven't seen you for a long time.
Here I am. God is my witness, I love you. What were you gossiping about?
About different things.
What exactly?
About our transitory life. It's too short.
Take you, for example.
People say you were a beauty.
Yes, I must admit I was beautiful. Very beautiful.
With golden locks and dark eyes.
They used to call me a swallow.
And now they call you an owl.
You look more like a withered rose.
Still a rose, even if a withered one. Unlike you, a garlicky soul.
You're still like a rose.
With lots of suitors, only they're too shy to declare their love.
Whom are you talking about?
About today's dunderheads with jug-like snouts?
I, the daughter of a nobleman, am not going to marry a first man to come.
I'd better be alone, like a field mouse.
They aren't worth the little finger of my telegraphist Gabo.
He was a real man, strong and handsome, with a groomed mustache.
He took his life, enchanted by my shiny eyes.
I remember: It was here.
He stood on his knees right here.
No, it was here.
"I can't live without you," he said. "You've bewitched me.
In midsummer I'm shivering from cold. I can't get warm without you."
But I didn't marry him. I didn't love him.
He was no match for me.
I turned him down...
Then telegraphist Gabo took poison wrapped in paper from his pocket,
and said with a sigh: "You're taking a sin upon your soul, Pupala."
He poured the poison on his tongue and fell breathless on the ground.
You little snake!
May you rot in the earth, you lousy rat!
Pupal! Pupal! Pupal!
Pupala, poor thing.
For whom have you wasted your youth?
For Shiola, of course.
I've been waiting for Shiola all my life.
He has gone and taken my heart with him.
Where are you, Shiola?
There has never been a man like him.
What a sharp shooter he was!
He looked like St. George.
Death has taken him away from me.
My brave falcon went to fight an enemy squad,
and they riddled him with arrows.
Greetings, good women!
Whom are you maligning now, gossipers?
Whom are you dishing the dirt about?
Oh, our Pupala's here, too!
How are you doing, my beauty?
Did you get married, or are you still an old maid?
You cucumber head, moldered hollow, lousy shrimp!
Where did he come from?
I was sitting on a branch, the branch broke
and I fell down right here.
I was shaving planks for your coffin
and came to take your measurements.
May you burn in hell, stinking vermin!
You should be nailed to a board and stabbed with skewers!
Wait!
Look here, girl.
You're Maridi's granddaughter, aren't you?
Yes.
Oh, Saint Mary the Virgin!
Oh, Saint Nina!
A peasant girl, and such a beauty!
She has the eyes of a gazelle.
Are you crying? Why is she crying?
It's coming.
A great hurricane is coming.
The fulfillment of the people's dream is near.
Here it comes, our happiness...
And the smell of gunpowder in the air.
It's coming.
The old world will fall crashing down.
It will fall down.
The hurricane is coming. The storm is coming.
You've gone absolutely mad, pal.
Put your ear to the ground. Do you hear it booming?
You know what it is? The storm is coming.
Our victory is near. The grave will swallow up the tsars.
Listen to me.
You think your storm will bury only tsars?
Don't you know
that it will bring along
chaos, blood and misfortune?
Everything will be reduced to dust - the people's work and sweat.
All right, we'll be destroyed by your storm.
But what will happen to him? To an innocent boy?
He will be swept away by your storm, too.
No, he won't be.
The storm has risen for his happiness.
For his freedom.
Mountains and plains can never be leveled up.
Anarchy, the mother of order, will level up what has risen unjustly.
Will we be there soon?
Yes, soon, I think.
Come on, close your eyes again.
They're so pretty...
- Is this for me? - Yes, for you.
I used to bring my horse Tetra here, too.
You know, everything around us is alive.
Everything has a soul. The dew on the grass is the earth's tears.
The earth can laugh, too.
In spring it laughs with flowers, and the sky laughs with stars.
Where a mother's tear falls, a violet will grow.
Do you know what the sun says when roses blossom out in the morning?
And I know.
- Maybe you're a piece of the sun too? - What would you think?
The eagle stole your slippers.
See this cauldron?
As soon as the water starts boiling, the steam will press on the lid,
the lid will rise, set the belts in motion,
and then...
Line after me.
When the railway comes to our land,
the whole country will blossom and there will be plenty of everything.
You will go to the city to study
and come back educated people.
Aren't you ashamed of yourself, you rebel?
Why do you put a lot of nonsense into the kids' heads? Stop your fooling.
You think the train will bring happiness?
Won't the air become foul when the train comes here?
Won't the bread and grapes go sour? Won't people lose their conscience?
Won't a woman be afraid to walk alone on the road?
No, we're the people that produce bread and wine.
Let's be careful lest we grab the devil by the horns.
We'd better look after them.
Oh, the world, the people!
Ioram, come here.
Uncle loram, the train's broken down.
Roar, the thunder! Sparkle, the lightning!
Split open, the sky, and fall down on the earth!
How fresh is the air to breathe! How my heart is rejoicing!
Roar, the thunder! Sparkle, the lightning!
Split open, the sky, and fall down on the earth!
Wipe off all the scum!
Cleanse the earth and the air!
Break the enemy's backbone!
Crush his jaws!
Let me feel the real life!
The storm of liberation, come and soar high!
Destroy the wretched reality!
The decayed world must be destroyed!
We must knock the Black Sea and the Caspian together.
I'm willing to be the first to take a fight for the freedom of mankind.
Oh, God,
help my father to find the magic tree.
I'm begging you.
Put it on.
Here.
- Did the chicken lay a golden egg? - It will.
Of course it will.
It will certainly do. The day after tomorrow.
Bring me the binoculars.
Give me my bag.
Look after the kids.
And after the chicken, too.
- Will you be back soon, Daddy? - Yes, soon.
As soon as I find the magic tree.
Now, begin.
O Lord, save our Daddy. Bring him luck.
O Lord, save our Daddy...
Amen.
Away, you devil!
Our land is beautiful and abundant,
generously endowed with every God-given gift.
Listen to me, young men.
Forgetting your past
is the first sign of the decline of a nation.
The people is the past and the present. The present and the past.
Our ancestors were known for great industriousness.
Look around you: All the stones are cut or adorned with an ornament.
There's not a hill in Georgia that wouldn't have a church,
a fortress turret or a castle.
There's been much sweat shed here.
It flew here by itself.
Hupermextra helios, that is butterfly.
We'll talk about that later.
Hupermextra helios.
Yes, there's been much sweat shed here.
We must always remember that.
Let us touch and pay homage to the sacred marks
of the hardworking hands of our ancestors.
And remember, children,
there's only one Georgia in the world...
and she's ours.
Take your caps off.
He's absolutely crazy.
Help me, Father, help, for God's sake.
What do you want?
Slap my boy. I'm not going to let you be.
Go away, I said!
Don't you see my hands are busy? Slap with what? With my foot?
I've brought you a chicken. I'm not asking it for free.
Come here, boy. Hold this stone.
Give me the chicken.
Raise your head.
Don't hit him, he'll hit you back.
What are you doing?
I told you, he always hits back.
That's what you get for doing good to people.
Away, away! Is he a ghost?
Hurry up. He's got a heavy hand.
God bless you, Okhrokhine!
Look, people, Father has cured my son!
I told you he'd hit you back.
You mean because of one slap
he's supposed to kill me?
Have they all gone mad?
O God, have mercy.
Close your eyes.
Listen, you!
I'm coming, Uncle Tsitsikore.
I'm listening.
It's not becoming a young woman to behave in such a way.
What is it?
A woman should walk with downcast eyes,
modestly and noiselessly, like a light wind.
And you're ogling at everyone.
You must know your own worth.
Not to be chummy with everyone.
Aren't there enough worthy people in the world?
And who's worthy of me in our village?
Help, Tsitsikore. He's got dumbfounded again.
Slap him just once.
Leave me alone!
Is it very much to ask? Hit him.
Rub it with the twig broom.
With the twig broom.
Oh, how hot it is!
Maradia.
I've always told the truth
and I'm not going to hide anything.
I wanted to see her, and there's no better place for it.
I bless you and your granddaughter. I came to look at your girl.
Come and look.
Straighten up, girl. Stand straight.
Phooey, you're so plain-Iooking.
Doesn't Shete deserve a beautiful bride?
Of course he does.
One can't hide it...
her legs are thin and weak.
But her face and her breast...
They'll complement each other like Adam and Eve.
Why don't you say something?
I have nothing against it.
There're so few Georgians in the world.
Therefore we must protect and enhance
everything that is good and purebred.
And for this we need good soil.
Shete's family will be exactly
such soil for Marita.
We know, Uncle Tsitsikore. We know all that.
Only Gedya and Marita are in love with each other.
I'm afraid of taking a sin upon my soul.
Gedya is a good boy, yet he's poor,
he has no means.
He can't provide a good life for your girl.
Money can't buy happiness.
I've had more than my share of suffering
after I lost my daughter...
We've gone through very hard times.
If you wish good for your country, marry off Marita to Shete.
- I'm not against it, but... - Then let's give our blessing to it.
- Yes, yes, let's bless it. - Let's bless it.
What's the matter?
What happened?
Tsitsikore came to our house.
They sat down and decided to give Marita to Shete.
Nobody even asked me, as if I'm a thing.
Your father, too?
Yes.
Gedya!
Don't meddle in!
There're three things nonexistent in the world: A stairway into the sky,
a bridge across the sea, and justice.
Remember that, young people.
They've sold the sun-faced Tamar!
They've sold her!
Sold her for red banknotes!
Tsitsikore, you damned law-abider!
Our father and teacher! How can you live by that truth?
They've sold Saint Mary the Virgin!
God's servant Shiola plights his troth
to God's servant Pupala.
Pupal! Pupal! Pupal!
May you never be happy!
Uncle loram, it's coming, it's coming! I hear it booming.
- Who's coming? - The hurricane.
Of course, it cannot but come.
Get up! Let's go!
Soon, soon it will bloom, Come on, rise, the worker!
And your work will be rewarded, Don't sleep, the worker.
And the sun will chase the gloom, The night's dark will be broken...
Hush, whispering tongue, blabbering tongue, punching tongue,
bludgeon tongue, hammer tongue, rivet tongue.
Leave the body, all filth, leave the body, all illness...
You feel better?
Yes, better, Pupala.
Oh, what a fine doctor you would make!
Cook a crow, so that all steam would stay in it.
Drink the broth. Dry the scorpion's blood and take it on an empty stomach.
Mix the oak sap and the hawk's fat with the deer lard and drink it.
You'll see your pain gone.
May you be happy, Pupala.
Oh, Shiola has taken my happiness with him.
He was a radiant man. The pride and beauty of the world.
How could you endure all that?
Oh, my dear, it was 40 years ago when he loved me.
Why do you need that love, then? It was buried long ago.
Love never dies, Ninore.
Hey, wife!
Wife!
Help yourself. I'll go and see what he wants.
Turn out that witch.
Are you crazy? She's treating me.
She'll make it a habit coming here. We won't be able to drive her out.
Hush. Don't shame us. She'll spend the night and go away.
- Drive her out now! - Shut up, you brute!
I wish I've never met you, My darling!
You've become my fate and my ruin.
You're making me burn in hell, Of my torment building a storm.
By the fire of my suffering, You keep your hands warm.
What to do? From the burden of my passion how to break free?
Rustaveli is no more here. Who will understand me?
Elioz, is that you?
Is that you, Elioz?
Yes, yes, it's me.
Elioz.
- Looking for the magic tree? - Yes, I am.
- Waiting for the sky to open up? - Of course.
- Are you going to sit here all night? - I must.
- What if you fall? - I won't.
It's so cold, you'll freeze.
I can stand it. Every rose has its thorn.
Help you God.
Mother of God, our protectress.
There's no one to take care of my son now.
Where's he? In what part of the world? Is he alive or dead?
Why don't your mother's eyes see you, son?
The sun has grown dim for me.
May the home of your enemy turn to dust,
may his path get shrouded in darkness.
Please, hear me, Mother of God.
You're a mother, too.
I pray to you, give me back my only son,
my Gedya.
Lift it.
The mule hasn't been shoed. Don't walk him over rocks.
Tighten it a bit.
Fix it well.
Hurry up.
You could at least look out.
A bird's flown in!
To hell with it!
Don't kill it! Don't kill!
I'll get back and cheer you up.
Chirping and chirping, bastards!
What happened?
I'm carrying Elioz, Father. He looked for the magic tree and got frozen.
You don't say!
He picked a beautiful tree, all covered with hoarfrost.
It looked lovely, you just couldn't take your eyes off it.
He sat down beneath it and froze to death.
What did he want, the wretch? Seeking the magic tree all his life.
A crank of a man. Why couldn't he live like everybody else?
Let him look for it in the other world now.
- Where are you going? - To the funeral repast.
Come soon, spring. I'm tired of the cold.
I'm yearning for the greens and the light.
Please, come soon, spring.
Let the sun warm me up.
Marita.
It's me, Gedya.
You alive, Gedya? You've come to me? You're alive...
Did you come to me?
Perhaps I'm dreaming you, Gedya?
I'd rather die than live like that. Something's happening to me.
I hear nothing: Neither the birds singing, nor the leaves rustling.
I'm afraid of everything.
I feel like someone's watching me day and night.
I couldn't not come.
Go away.
Go away, Gedya.
Go away, go away... go away.
Tsitsikore, you damned law-abider! Is that yourjustice?
I wish you were judged by such truth!
The world is not blind.
The fence here has ears, the walls have eyes.
That mangy sheep has put to shame all of us.
May you die, shameless woman!
Give it to her! It serves her right! Very good!
What are you doing, people?
Are you Christians or not?
Come out, everybody! Look!
We won't let anyone disgrace our village!
Tsitsikore, you devil's breed! Holy Father, are you human?
You should be put on the guillotine,
to cut your dumb heads off!
Such cruelty...
Who gave you the right?
Who appointed you our shepherd?
Villain!
Murderer!
- What happened? - They've put Marita on the mule.
No, it can't be.
I'm scared. Will you cry over me when I die?
You'll have me buried first.
No, Ninore, but will you cry over me?
And let your hair out, and scratch your cheeks...
I'm so Ionely, I have no one in this world.
I have never had anyone except my late mother.
And I've never had Shiola...
I made it all up.
Last spring I went to look at the place where Marita used to live.
Everything around has withered, and there was silence.
Where the house had been, there were ruins, with no trees left.
And only at the place of the former hearth
a pomegranate tree grew up by itself
and broke into fiery blossom.
Shining with radiant light before me, as though smiling
like Marita's face, was a newly opened pomegranate flower.
I was looking at that scarlet flower
and could not believe that Marita
was no longer adorning our earth.
It was hard to believe that this gorgeous tree
could grow up in that dust and debris.
Where does beauty come to the world from? Where does it go?
Or maybe it's just hiding its face from us for a while?
Scarlet tree, little tree,
a flaming token,
miracle-working.
O God, help me to find, help me to find.
THE END
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