-Hello, I'm Channing Tatum. -And I'm Jon Ronson.
And we'd like to welcome you to our screening
of the celebrated six-part, 1980s,
Romanian Television series, Comrade Detective.
Similar to American propaganda films
like Red Dawn and Rocky IV that demonize the Eastern Bloc,
Comrade Detective was produced and funded
by the Romanian government, not merely to entertain,
but to celebrate and promote Communist ideals.
But with the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989,
Comrade Detective would tragically become nothing more
than a curious footnote in the dustbin of a Communist history.
Until now.
After a two-decade journey spanning four continents,
hundreds of dead-end leads,
and the cooperation of five international governments,
we have finally tracked down and restored
the original master copies and dubbed them.
This has been one of the most rewarding experiences.
I am incredibly proud to bring you this truly special show
and I would like to thank all the good people
at the Romanian Film Preservation Society
for their painstaking work in remastering the entire series.
So, please enjoy the first episode...
-of Comrade Detective. -Of Comrade Detective.
(elevator doors rumble open)
(doors close)
(elevator whirring)
♪ ♪
GREGOR: You don't become a good Communist by going to meetings
or memorizing the manifesto.
You do it on the streets.
You do it with your fists.
The rest is bullshit...
and you know it.
(woman sings in foreign language)
(children laughing)
♪ ♪
(man whoops)
(laughs)
Oh, man.
-Hey, Mr. G. -Show us what you got.
(cheers)
♪ ♪
(indistinct conversations)
There he is.
Get I get you a drink, Gregor?
I quit drinking, Constantin.
All right, vodka then.
Double.
He's in the back, Gregor.
(men groaning)
There's fucking chess on and you're reading a book.
You feeling okay?
Not interested.
The moment he moved his rook to B9, he shit the bed.
The game's already over.
Besides, we're not staying long.
My informant set it up.
(chuckles)
Let's go dancing.
NIKITA: Wow. You look like shit.
You have a hot date last night?
I mean, it was great,
until she asked me to stop seeing other girls.
She's got a point, Gregor.
Yeah, we're a Communist state,
but you don't have to personally service everybody.
What is it that Marx said?
"To each according to his ability,
and to each according to his needs."
I don't think that's what he meant.
No. That's exactly what he meant.
-Not what he meant. -It's totally what he meant.
MAN (over radio): Gregor, Nikita.
-Come in. Over. -NIKITA: Oh, shit. Covaci.
Hold on. Let me handle this.
What is it, Captain? Over.
COVACI: I know what you two are up to,
and I'm instructing you to stand-down.
Do not proceed without backup.
It's too dangerous. Over.
How the fuck do you know what we're up to? Over.
Stefan informed on you.
Over.
Stefan, you fucking snitch.
-Over. -S-Sorry, Gregor.
I'm serious, you two. Stand-down.
You hear me? Over.
GREGOR: Fine.
Yeah, fine, Captain. We're-we're standing down.
Over.
We're not turning around, are we?
Relax, Nikita.
We're the good guys, remember?
-(engine revving) -(whoops, laughs)
♪ ♪
(Gregor sighs)
Look at them.
They're just kids.
Even a kid can pull a trigger, bud.
(dog barking in distance)
You're late, assholes.
Mihai Viteazul is on TV tonight,
and you know the beginning's the best part.
Easy, comrade. This won't take long.
Let's see what you got.
(clears throat, sniffs)
You don't have to check it; it's good, man.
It's straight from BogotÃ¡.
All right. Now where's our money?
American dollars?
What the fuck is this shit?
-Too late. -Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.
-Bucharest PD. -Bucharest PD.
Let's go. Turn around.
Up against the car.
Hands.
Let me see 'em.
You're bringing drugs into this country,
so you can turn our brothers and sisters into addicts.
You want the streets of Bucharest
to look like the streets of Detroit?
The CIA imports drugs
so that they can destroy their black communities.
That's fucked up, right?
But at least they have a sick reasoning behind it.
-What's your dumb-ass excuse? -Money, bitch.
We want money. (grunts)
For what? All your needs are taken care of.
Healthcare, education, food.
And you still want more?
-Think of your fellow man. -My fellow man can suck my...
(grunts)
Free market, motherfuckers.
Only the strong survive.
-Really? -Mm-hmm.
Okay.
Let's see how strong you really are, motherfucker.
Come on, Free Market. Let's see what you got.
-Come here. -NIKITA: Gregor.
NIKITA: Gregor, no!
He's not worth it.
-He's just a capitalist punk. -(laughing)
Something funny, jerk-off?
Oh, yeah.
He told me you were cops.
Who the fuck is he?
(gunshot)
Shit, get the briefcase.
-(Nikita yells) -Get the fuck out of here!
-Get the briefcase. -(gunshot)
-Let's go. -(groans)
(gunshots)
-(groans) -(gunshot)
-Fuck. We were set up. -(engine starter whirring)
-You okay? -(groans) Yeah, I'm fine.
You get eyes on him?
-(gunshot) -I see him. -(engine starting)
-(engine revving) -Careful. Careful, bud!
-(tires screeching) -(grunts)
(gunshots)
(panting)
♪ ♪
-(woman screams nearby) -(door closing)
♪ ♪
Nikita!
(distant sirens wailing)
(screams)
♪ ♪
(indistinct conversations)
I'm sorry, Gregor.
Nikita fought hard, but he didn't make it.
He is...
he was a good cop.
I let the killer get away, Captain.
And now he could be anywhere.
There was a time when I'd line up everyone here
against the wall and shoot 'em,
just on the off chance they were the killer.
Oh...
(sighs)
The whole world is going to shit, Gregor.
Captain, we found something.
(car door closes)
♪ ♪
(distant thunder crashing)
The killer made sure to tie up loose ends.
COVACI: He also left the money.
He left the money?
Yes, but what does it prove?
It proves the killer is ideological.
And he knew we were police.
This whole thing was a fucking set-up.
Hold on. Are you suggesting this was an inside job?
No. There's no such thing
as a corrupt police officer in Romania.
But maybe it was the work of subversives.
COVACI: Subversives.
Whatever the hell that means.
It could mean anyone.
Nikita's death was on me, Captain.
You can't blame yourself, Gregor.
But it's true.
If I had obeyed your orders, Nikita would still be alive.
(thunder crashes)
Gregor.
♪ ♪
Detective Nikita Ionescu...
wasn't just an excellent cop.
He was a patriot...
a Communist...
a party loyalist...
and a great man.
A hero.
And he will be missed.
♪ ♪
(phone ringing)
Anghel.
(woman speaking indistinctly over line)
What?
Detective Anghel, I'm sorry it's so early,
but I didn't know who else to call.
I was sleeping when I heard a noise.
I came up and passed by poor Nikita's apartment,
and I noticed the door was open.
I think there's been an intruder.
I'm sure it's nothing, ma'am.
It's just a neighbor's misguided attempt
at redistributing Nikita's wealth.
Don't worry. Go back to bed.
(door creaks open)
(creaking)
(rustling nearby)
(rustling continues)
(fierce grunting)
Wait, wait...
Who are you?
What are you doing here?
I'm Detective Baciu. Joseph Baciu.
I'm here to find the killer of my friend,
Nikita Ionescu.
COVACI: He's a detective
from the small farming village of Rasinari.
Great, he's a goat fucker. Okay.
He was good friends with Nikita.
They were on the national wrestling team in their youth.
As soon as he heard of Nikita's death,
he pulled strings-- merit-based strings, mind you--
and had himself transferred here to the city.
If they were such good friends,
why didn't Nikita ever mention him?
Hmm?
Do me a favor, Captain,
send this goat fucker back to the country.
(chuckles)
Not unless...
you go with him.
He's your new partner.
Hey! Stefan! (mock grunting)
(cackles)
What's up, farm boy?
Look who drew the short straw.
Who got themselves partnered up with Anghel.
-(cackles) -No, actually,
I asked to work with Detective Anghel.
Your funeral, pal.
(men laugh)
(smooches)
Everybody in here now! Let's go!
Watch that slippery sp...
COVACI: For fuck's sake.
Tipsy, calm down. Let's go.
COVACI: Everyone sit down and shut up.
Especially you two.
All right, we have some guests.
I want you all to meet Detective Joseph Baciu,
who's come here to help find Nikita's killer.
We're not used to crime in Romania.
It's not part of our national character.
And so we find ourselves completely overwhelmed.
Which brings us to our second guest--
Victor... Dinca?
-Victor. -Victor Dinca is a Secret Police officer
sent from the 9th Division.
-(excited chatter) -What the fuck kind of name is Dinca?
-Who is this asshole? -COVACI: Quiet. Quiet.
He is our Romanian brother, and he is on our side.
Yeah.
Remember that separately...
we are like this.
But together...
-we are more like this fist! -Fist!
-Fist! -Fist! -Fist!
-Fist! -Fist! -Fist! -Fist!
-Fist!
We should get up to speed.
Yesterday I visited the crime scene...
Aw, fuck. Nice move.
Mm, he should've thought that move through.
Now he lost his queen.
You're gonna teach me about chess, Kasparov?
His queen's fine.
He's employing the King's Indian Attack.
Watch and learn.
(audience exclaims on TV)
ANNOUNCER: Oh. That could cost him the game.
(sniffs)
Look, I know this must be difficult for you.
Nikita was your partner, he was your friend.
I get that.
You don't get anything.
I knew Nikita since we were 14.
We traveled all over the world together
competing in wrestling tournaments.
We even went to New York City once, if you can believe that.
He was the closest thing
I ever had to a brother.
And I will find his killer, Detective.
With or without you.
Nikita had an informant.
And it was this informant who set us up.
Now I'm looking through all of Nikita's files
to try to figure out who this guy was.
Also, I've got a handwritten note from the killer.
Knock yourself out.
Now that you're up to speed,
kindly go fuck yourself.
Detective Anghel.
Detective Anghel!
I'm talking to you, Detective!
(grunts)
Touch me again, I'll kill you.
You understand?
Look in my hand, Detective.
I found that at the crime scene-- it was overlooked.
"Jordachi." What is Jordachi?
It's not "Jordachi." It's English.
The "E" is silent.
It's pronounced Jordache,
which would make this American.
You're implying the killer's American.
Well, that would certainly explain the Reagan mask
the killer was wearing.
But what is this?
No idea.
(phone ringing, indistinct chatter)
MAN (shouting nearby): You're fired!
MAN 2: Shut up.
MAN: Hey, what's up with the...
MAN 2: Oh, brother!
Bucharest PD.
We're here to see the American ambassador.
Do you have an appointment?
We're the police. We don't need an appointment.
(chuckles) Well, if you want to see the ambassador,
you need to be in this book.
Hmm. Okay.
Hey, hey! Oh, okay.
-Uh... -(Gregor humming)
There. Now I'm in the book.
Hmm, that's really mature, Detective,
but I'll have you know that the ambassador is very busy
spreading freedom and democracy.
More like spreading greed and gonorrhea.
Pardon my partner, ma'am.
Please, let the ambassador know
we'd like to speak with her when she has a moment.
What is wrong with you?
How do you expect to get any answers
when you're coming in here like a bull in a China shop?
You'd rather sit here with your dick in your hand?
Is that your thing, Detective?
Just be patient.
(man burps)
(Gregor sighs)
WOMAN: Ugh. You just wasted
a very good Twinkie.
But I suppose it's your lucky day.
The ambassador has agreed to see you.
(doors creaks open)
Madam Ambassador.
WOMAN: Yoo-hoo!
(with Southern accent): Come on in, have a seat, y'all.
(Gregor clears throat)
I'm Ambassador Sally Smith.
How might I help you?
I'm Detective Gregor Anghel,
and this is Detective Joseph, uh...
Baciu, like, the shepherd.
Uh...
thank you for seeing us.
We're investigating the murder
of fellow detective Nikita Ionescu.
Murder?
I'm not sure y'all came to the right place.
Tell me, Ambassador, you ever seen anything like this before?
Jordache?
Sure.
They're just jeans.
Who's Gene?
You know, jeans, like blue jeans?
Pants.
Clearly, you two gentlemen have never been to Beverly Hills.
(laughs) Jane,
be a doll.
You're wearing a pair of Jordache jeans, aren't you?
Yes, ma'am.
Why don't you give the detectives a closer look?
(chuckles)
Hmm.
(clears throat)
(laughs)
Now, don't tell me you two strong men are afraid
of a silly thing like a pair of ladies jeans.
The killer left behind this label from one of these jeans.
That means your friend Jane here
has just become a person of interest.
Every woman in this embassy owns a pair
of Jordache jeans, Detective.
You'd have to haul us all in.
Maybe we will.
Two words--
diplomatic immunity.
Tell us what you know about Nikita's murder.
I don't know anything.
Tell us what you know about Nikita!
-(Jane gasps) -Get out of my office now!
Who the fuck do you think you are?
Commie prick.
Get the fuck out.
And y'all don't come back, ya hear?
-(phone ringing) -I'm so sorry, Ambassador.
-Thank you for... -Ah, you, too, you little worm.
(phone continues ringing, Jane sighs)
(Sally groans)
-Hello? -(Sally sighs)
It's for you.
Jane? (sighs)
Ah.
Would you go grab me a Pepsi?
A Diet Pepsi.
And try not to fuck it up this time.
Bless your heart.
Oh.
Smith.
Hmm.
The problem was just here.
Are you crazy, Detective?
They told me your methods were unorthodox,
but you practically started World War III in there!
You don't understand what we're dealing with, do you?
You want to catch an American?
You need to think and act like one.
The ambassador's appointment book?
You stole it? Without a warrant?
Like I said, if we want to catch Nikita's killer,
we need to act like Americans.
And that means being underhanded and breaking the rules.
You're in Bucharest now, baby.
You think you can handle that?
You suggest we compromise our methodology?
No, I'm suggesting we nail these motherfuckers to the wall.
It's incredible how many times
she can visit a beauty salon in a week.
We're talking about a capitalist.
Narcissism is as important as air to these assholes.
Oh, here's something interesting.
Between 7:00 and 9:00 p.m., she has nothing scheduled.
Absolutely nothing.
Maybe she's resting.
I don't know. She's staying in.
You said we had to think like Americans.
Americans don't just rest or stay in.
Time is their most precious commodity.
What's their favorite saying?
Time is money.
Exactly. Time is money.
She's doing something during this time
that she didn't want on the record.
Well, let's find out what she's up to.
Hey, Troy, you got a light?
Man, did you see the American football game last night?
So many passes.
These late nights are not gonna please my wife.
No. You got yourself a milkmaid
back on the farm in Rasinari, huh?
No. I brought her here, along with our two children.
A boy and a girl-- Flavia and Andrei.
You've got a milkmaid and kids,
and you still asked for this case?
Nikita would have done the same.
Oh.
-(Gregor sniffling) -(door opens)
-(door closes) -Here we go.
What the...?
What is she wearing?
She's dressed like a prostitute.
(engine starting)
She's a capitalist, Gregor.
Isn't calling her a prostitute redundant?
Yeah, it is that.
Pretty smart for a goat fucker, ain't you, Baciu?
(engine starts, revs)
(camera shutter clicks)
Okay. Showtime.
I'll be able to hear everything.
If you find yourself in trouble...
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I got it.
(indistinct chatter)
A little something for a rainy day.
(upbeat music playing, lively chatter)
JOSEPH (over radio): Gregor, what do you see?
Illegal casino.
Gambling?
JOSEPH: What are you waiting for? We got her.
We should bring her in for interrogation.
GREGOR: No, she'll just play the diplomatic immunity card.
And besides, she could lead us right to the killer.
♪ Be still I will not accept defeat ♪
♪ I will have you ♪
♪ Yes, I will have you ♪
♪ I will find a way and I will have you ♪
♪ Like a butterfly ♪
♪ A wild butterfly ♪
♪ I will collect you and capture you ♪
♪ You are an obsession ♪
♪ You're my obsession ♪
♪ Who do you want me to be ♪
-(clears throat) -♪ To make you sleep with me... ♪
Oh.
Twice in one day, Detective.
To what do I owe this displeasure?
You want to dance?
I thought you'd never ask.
♪ Who do you want me to be ♪
♪ To make you sleep with me? ♪
♪ You are an obsession ♪
♪ You're my obsession ♪
♪ Who do you want me to be... ♪
Why do I get the feeling
you don't like me very much?
Because you're perceptive.
♪ Who do you want me to be ♪
♪ To make you sleep with me? ♪
♪ You are an obsession ♪
You know, Detective,
we're going to win this Cold War.
♪ Who do you want me to be ♪
And then where will you be?
Oh, you know, just wearing cowboy boots
and a smile while exploiting my fellow man.
♪ ♪
Oh, I've exploited a few of your fellow men
and had a grand old time.
You ought to try.
That murder we discussed...
I think the killer is American.
We didn't have anything to do with any murder,
but if you insist on pursuing this,
you might want to talk to the fella in the hat.
He runs this place,
knows people,
including a certain big-time smuggler.
Anything you want from the West, he can get.
Including jeans. Hmm.
Why are you telling me this?
I just scratched your back, Detective.
(sighs)
Maybe next time,
you'll return the favor.
You know where to find me.
-Good luck. -♪ You're an obsession ♪
-♪ You're my obsession ♪ -Detective.
♪ Who do you want me to be ♪
♪ To make you sleep with me? ♪
♪ You are an obsession ♪
♪ You're my obsession ♪
♪ Who do you want me to be ♪
♪ To make you sleep with me? ♪
It's a beautiful hat.
Let me guess, Cuban?
Correct.
Our comrades across the globe make an exquisite fedora.
Mm.
Well played.
What's your secret?
I always bet on red.
(chuckles)
Good one.
I'm looking for merchandise.
Look somewhere else.
Western clothing.
"Jordachi."
Jeans.
Like, pants.
I was told you were the man to see.
It's okay.
Ask the American ambassador.
She's the one who gave me your name.
♪ You are an obsession ♪
Have you seen the back of my casino?
No.
You should take a gander.
You may like what you see.
Yeah!
It's on, Joseph. Going out back.
♪ To make you sleep with me? You're my obsession... ♪
Be careful, Gregor.
Come on, come on, come on.
Back here is a safe place to do business, yes, comrade?
Away from prying eyes.
-(clears throat) -(music continues in distance)
What do you think?
Shh.
An excellent choice, comrade, but let's make this fast.
After all, time is money.
Time is money.
Come on. Come on.
You think I'm stupid?
Move your ass.
Out of the way!
Bucharest PD.
Out of the way!
- To make you sleep with me? ♪ -Bucharest PD!
-♪ You are an obsession... ♪ -(gunshot)
(panicked screaming)
♪ ♪
(door opens)
Gregor?
Gregor!
(engine accelerating, tires squealing)
Shit, shit, shit!
(baby crying)
-(screams) -(tires screeching)
♪ ♪
(tires screeching)
(grunting)
GREGOR: Don't let him get away.
Adios, amigos! (laughs)
Let go!
(grunting)
GREGOR: Watch out.
(grunting)
Oh, my leg! (cries out)
Let me help you with that.
(crying out): No, please!
JOSEPH: Gregor, that's enough!
(screaming)
We need him alive.
We need him to help us find Nikita's killer.
(man panting, groaning)
(wailing sirens approaching)
(distant thunder rumbling)
He won't give us a name. He has no ID.
And the captain won't let me interrogate him
until he's had medical attention.
-(siren wailing) -Patience, Gregor.
About what happened back there, thanks.
For what?
Saving my ass.
Get home to your wife and kids.
I'll finish up here.
Go on, get out of here.
Get the fuck out of here.
(gasps)
Lord, have mercy! You scared me half to death.
How'd you get in here?
I-I did what you asked.
I-I led them straight to the man, like you said.
(inhales deeply)
SALLY: Mmm.
(engine starts)