Free flights in hammock

"Do not grieve", "Kin-dza-dza" and other worlds of George Danelia

In the past, Sobakin, like many great amateurs, doing not his own business with love and talent (he is by nature a pathologist of our system), achieved breathtaking successes, creating a way of moving, where the separation point and the landing point are the same point .

Without looking up, I'm flying
I'm running without moving my feet.

With his figured, that is, not obligatory for use, fantasies, which he calls his thoughts, Sobakin shared with the aeronaut for Vincent Sheremet:

“In my wanderings at times, I noticed that, as an example of the enlightened centuries in the new Russian houses, the servant was not invited to the table not out of swagger at all, but only from the fears that the random guest would confuse her with the owners.”

“The word will confuse the key here. - answered the air heater. - The fishing spinner, launched by the hand of an amateur, can turn the line and clear, like a string, fishing line into a ball of tangled meanings. It is no longer important for you to catch the defenseless in front of the technical whim of the asp. To unravel the “beard” and find the beginning and the end - this is the task of the true bitter. Do not catch the fish, the source of phosphorus, but confuse the thread leading from the past to the coming, weave the network and become a catcher of people. ”

-In my opinion, about the catchers of people is already said before you.

- I know".

On the advice of our friend Vincent, wandering to the present time in the willow basket of the Mongolfire, Dogakin, wandering through the landfills of the technical and philosophical ideas of the past and collecting the torn and accidentally said, made an intergalactic hammock, winging a world (in the sense of quality) a network of anti -gravity stump with transcendental leck In order to refute their consideration to the worlds that there is no future, since it is not possible to use it, it is so sunk. It is worth entering it, as it immediately becomes real. Unlike the past, which never happens real.

“Being in a hammock of time,” Dogakin wrote before his movement, ”I thought, dear Vincent, that I spent all the past life by someone's order. And although I did only (well, for the most part, maybe) what I wanted, it was a process of compliance with the conditions. I bargained them with my tolerance, allegedly with optional and laziness, quite convincing the friendly audience that, they say, there is another reality where events that really occupy me occur.

There were many worlds in which I wanted to exist. (At the same time.) And without a hammock, penetrating them, I sometimes managed to charm these worlds without effort and intent, but I never managed to become an integral part, since there was no only or preferred place that I belonged completely, although I was impregnated if I did not feel the aggression and found me who took me the way I seemed to them.

The property seemed to seem a happy gift of nature. It has become a natural and naive method to present oneself to the surrounding space of people who were sweet to me. So, acceptable.

It seemed to me were happy, and I was rarely mistaken. I liked those who I liked. I did not demand anything other than attention, and occupied it for a while, but almost always gave it on time.

The sacraments of birth and death, given by the Creator (nobody before our digitized time not disputed), I perceived as a legitimate and only condition for me by random stay on Earth.

I knew little about my life and was not so much interested in strangers, suggesting each of his secret, but I noticed and impermissiblely understood a lot. In the details of the behavior of others, my own hidden meanings also opened me, since my silence and tricks of the course of real motives of behavior were understandable to me.

You, Vincent, are out of few who know that you can surround you not only from the outside. Of these necessary and joyful relationships with the world, you can always find a way out if you wish. You are in the center (everyone is in the center of your circle), you choose a way of communication or a pause in it, if you are tired of the bonds, and you open your hands, but not for hugs, but so that, indicating a weary of proximity and maintaining relations without losses, go beyond ...

However, my air -swimming friend, being surrounded from the inside, you will experience difficulties with methods for liberation. Unless the opportunity remains to make it clear. Favorites and loving endure a hint, without recognizing in it the hidden intention of the removal, which you yourself are afraid. They will not even notice him, but you, looking back at the beautiful world, will understand: everywhere a stranger. ”

"This is you, Sobakin, everywhere a stranger?!" -Vincent Sheremet will write a radiogram immediately, but it will not reach the addressee because of the oncoming wind, but will bring it to the Russian North, and it will fall to the ground in the village of Suretovo, in Pinega, in the garden of the grandmother of Efimiy Ivanovna Prazova.

- Volodya! She shouts to her son, looking out the window and looking up from the samovar tea with soaked crackers. - Cows are not yet driven? And look that it fell into the garden from the sky.

But Volodya will not hear.

I keep a bet that Sobakina was not at the “round” birthday of Irina Alekloga Antonova in the house of the former Logovaz receptions, when Mikhail Zhvanetsky, passing by the author of this note, who stood in indecision among the covered tables, from where different, quite pretty worlds were drawn, told me end -to -term (non -dramatic intonation):

- Everywhere a stranger.

“Having landed” on the planet Pluk in the Kin-dz-dza galaxy, Sobakin turned his hammock and, putting it under the mouse, so as not to stole it, immediately made friends with two aliens, free, according to local concepts, artists. They were in a mature, but no more, age and were not at all oppressed by the fact that, as was customary on this planet, they sang their scenarios and films, being in a large cage with a dome (as if worked out for very large parrots), which included themselves and closed the door behind them. Not on the castle.

The one that is older built his planets on a white sheet, often thanks to the fantasies of what is younger. It used to be helped by other worthy singers in cells - Gene, Victor, Uncle Sasha, and from the ladies inevitably beautiful, or simply inevitable, Bride Victoria. (She was not someone specifically a bride, but just felt life ...)

“Mom, mom, what will we do when winter cold will come?
You do not have a warm handkerchief, I have no winter coats a ”.

Gia, the one older, sang better than a rezo. However, I have never heard how it sings. Maybe this is another Caruso or Batistini, but he painfully fears that he can be suspected that he really sings no worse than Caruso (or even does something better than others and can offend these others), because he did not sing at all. Only if at home, one, and looking around. Then he can listen to the baby, his wife, whose name Elena (but no one remembers this). She is even younger than Rezo, which is now good for eighty, although he and the baby were born in the same day. But in different years.

Gia has now died, although he lived until his last day. And he worked. It was very difficult for him, he breathed oxygen from the car, because there is no good oxygen on our plug. Then this air was not enough, and he was put in a clean hospital in the throat of the tracheostom, taking away the last thing that connected with the past life was a voice. He breathed, lived and waited. When they remove the phone that prevented him from saying goodbye to this world.

On the day when Georgy Nikolaevich Danelia was returned to the voice, Sobakin was in his ward. He said that Gia whispered: how are you? And not listening to the answer, because he remembered that Sobakin was deaf and might not hear his whisper, made a gesture with a brush - go, they say, go. After…

I learned this gesture. In his ingenious film "Do not grieve!" The Great Georgian actor Sergo Zakariadze, gathering friends to his lifetime wake, goes into another - a dark room with a similar movement of the hand. Uh! .. And friends sing. How they sing - Georgians! Instead of words of farewell. And what are the words? They are always addressed to someone who no longer hears them. And they hear those to whom these words do not add anything.

He lived himself.

String your nails like surgeons, so as not to leave the opportunity to those who sympathize with the departed, with curiosity seeks to study his senses (which accumulates, you want to) and interpret the actions freely, without fear of being refuted.

And the words must be said to those who hear. I would be monuments, if the talent and contribution is obvious (here, of course, the question: to whom is it obvious? Well, let's say, I, Sobakin and Vincet), put to deliver joy or embarrassment to a worthy, still regular breathing character, and not remind our replacements about it later as about achieving the country in the field of culture, science or something, when monuments Homelands.

And the homeland used to consider their prototypes and consumables, or even the brake of its mythical progress and did not save their lives.

So other military leaders, who solved some tasks at the cost of someone else's abdomen (thousands of stomachs, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands ...), then hung them on the chest of the Order due to the common to the circle of victory, but we need memorial wreaths.

And here, the country's achievements are not densely like, and the monuments are sometimes worthy of people who did not honor the state at all during their lifetime. See: Korolev (sat), Tsvetaeva, Vysotsky, Bulat, Brodsky (they prevented them from living for disgraced the country), Sakharovu in St. Petersburg (this hero was even sent to Gorky three times), Mandelstam in Voronezh (killed in the camps), Varlam Shalamov (perennial office) - a memorial plaque at the house in Moscow ...

(True, the copper boobs, someone with a cross, someone with a machine gun, someone with a pipe, on the uniform of the Motherland-she and our army bias-military-patriotic craftsmen stumbled up a lot.)

He told Sobakin that they had the idea to create not a commemorative board with the sculptor George Frangulian, but a “sign of presence”, recognition of the living. On the house of pure ponds, where a master lived in an apartment on the third floor, to strengthen a rusty charming charming, flew from the Kin-dza-dza galaxy on the wall near the window and build an inscription of two words: “Danelia is here”. The city would not spoil, but it would be pleasant for a person who has pleased us for so many years.

And if he would be pleased, then we would be pleased, as the hero of his film “Mimino” said, which Frunzik Mkrtchyan played brilliantly.

But they hinted that we should wait for the final, and then, having summed up the awards and merits of the deceased to those who reward, after five years (apparently, for awareness) after leaving, with the consent of the tenants, of course, you can make the applicant with a bronze sign on the wall. And meanwhile, our insights are completely indifferent to him, and even a high assessment of intravital merits through the triumph of the recognition of his death.

Death for its only participant is not attractive and good. And the fear of her expectation can be painful. Especially if life has not exhausted its desires to the end. Yes, even if it would have exhausted ...

The habit of living does not ask for meaning.

All beautiful ways from life, which exist in legends, in poetry, prose, historical fantasies and the past, are described by living people. These are all models invented for yourself. Or, if there is an ideological and immoral order, for others, sometimes with a mean task to teach a soldier that a debt to society is more important than self -love and neighbor.

How beautiful the words are “stronger than death!”. But they only mean that she did not visit you. It would be necessary to fight for life, and not with death. She is invincible.

Literary models are impressive. But not reliable. There is no experience of a stranger, but it is not given to describe your own. Another thing is dying. It is painful for human knowledge as the last incorrigible error. Is this a long trip to endless now, or a dazzling moment.

Although there is no error. It is necessary (to whom I say this? After all, the word “necessary” almost always means the recommendation to do something or solve another, and I am here with you), we must accept your nature.

The strength of character, self -irony and faith in God helps to realize your ignorance (well, let's say).

Danelia has preserved Self -irony in full, although in a good mood he spent her all his life without savings.

- I ask you as a certified fool: can I become eighty -fourth years of my life as a member of your academy or still wait?

“In my opinion, you have matured,” I said.

President of the Academy of Fools Glory Polunin, with a luxurious diploma and a stupid basket of vegetables and fruits, arrived in the apartment in pure ponds, in order to present a certificate in a festive atmosphere that now George Nikolaevich Danelia is a valid member of the academy in the rank of “full fool”. That same evening, the academician called his friend, the outstanding composer Giy Kancheli, boast of a high title

- And me? Gia! Isn't it worthy? So many films were made together.

And we wrote recommendations that were recognized as reasonable.

In the same pores, when it was already difficult to leave the house of Danelia, Nana Anjaparidze-Gelovani came to him with a priest and a baptismal shirt.

He was worried and waited for her - a beauty, a good girlfriend and namesake of her mother Mary Ivlianovna (Grits, as her friends called her) and her sisters - the great Georgian actress Veriko Anjaparidze, who, incidentally, brilliantly played an episode in the film “Do not grieve!”.

(Yes, sometimes he invited those who just sweet to his episodes. So I ended up in the role of the godfather, in a good way, along with the godfather Nana.)

For him, baptism was not a preparation for farewell, but by the intention to give himself a sign to continue life. All the years after Kin-dza-dza, he was tormented by the loss of Kolya's son. He was hiding from the endless scrolling of a terrible picture, loading himself. He quit drinking, realizing that this did not save him from the feeling of guilt, which he appointed himself, and besides, and no one had already ... the work always saved him. He began to write wonderful books, not taking anyone and not boring the reader with a theoretical justification that he does not fit into science. The talent that he knew behind him cannot be trained, and no one happened to share either. But the product of the granted and acquired, which he, together with screenwriters, operators, actors, composers, artists etcetera ... prepared for us - why?! Use!

Books, however, were an occupation. He believed the movie. But to create a crew, business trips, the search for actors there was no longer there, and he is starting the animated film “Ku! Kin-dza-dza. "

Which will later gain the main prize at the Tokyo Film Festival, having received the “Asian Oscar”.

In those years, Sobakin had not yet returned in his hammock from a trip, although, I think, his impressions of visiting plug would have changed little in the decision of the animated picture, but they could talk with Danelia.

No, we will not drink. Just sit.

Georgy Nikolaevich did not like when he was offered ready -made ideas. He refined all the scenarios to a state when they stopped resisting him, and, carefully listening to the advice, acted in his own way.

- Do you think to leave a living Senya? (One of the worthy heroes of the “passport”), ”he asks me in the evening.

- Leave a nice type!

In the morning I go down to him on one floor to drink coffee.

- Unpleasant news. While you slept, he, crossing the border, stepped onto a mine.

I have no doubt that the meeting with Sobakin would be interesting: what has changed on the planet from the time that she and Gabriadze have come up with her.

From the diary of Sobakin on Plyuka
“Plukanin’s life is applied to a flat token, which is equal to losing life. The state computer monitors your movements and takes into account your voice without demand, even if you are silent. The rulers make sure that you have no secrets, but only the rules of conduct. To make it clear - modeling us: a passerby goes only on the right side to a green light with a speed and sober. It can stop in the places allocated for this. Everyone has registration numbers in a prominent place and the right to use streets and roads. If you crouched by the river (we still have them), drank a glass, hugged the young lady not declared in the route sheet and then you went without analyzing the road, because it is good and beautiful - you are an antisocial phenomenon equivalent to a group demonstration of protest. And if you also sang “noisy reed” or a anthem with your own words, you can be sublimated. To do this, a flat, chopped people, pressing the GBY-LTW buttons on their computers, and makes a unanimous decision to evaporate you. ”

“They work all the time, but do nothing but emptiness.

All the intellectual, technical and economic power of the plow is aimed at creating an underground hypersonic missile, which should create voids where enemy countries will fail, but there are no other countries on the planet, and they dig, preparing for war, although there is no one to destroy their citizens.

They do not have a GDP or a total product. The main economic task: increasing the PGN - pathos of national pride. ”

«Население живет в норах, оснащенных мощным интернетом, контролируемым Управлением Единственно Правильного Мышления, и работает в гигантских пещерах, которые иногда обваливаются и, несмотря на то, что плюкан еще много, правители устраивают временные мемориалы на месте провала, дают посмертно ордена и семьям разрешают рыть новые пещеры».

«Плюкане гордятся, что они единственные на планете (а других и нет) научились есть песок и пить нефть. Правители внимательно следят, чтобы население не подрывало здоровье и не использовало генномодифицированные продукты».

«Верховным правителем, как это известно из фильма Данелии «Кин-дза-дза», у них господин ПЖ. В старых типографиях так обозначали шрифт «полужирный», то есть который тужится быть жирным. Важным. ПЖ может быть аббревиатурой слова ПоЖизненный, но предположить такую дикость на демократическом Плюке было бы поверхностным взглядом путешественника. О ПЖ ходят только легенды: что он летает, как птица киви, ныряет в песок, как рыба-крот, и ловит там для народа светлячков, которые, впрочем, на Плюке не водятся.

О жизни ПЖ никто ничего не должен знать, только знать его».

«У местной знати огромные замки, уходящие в землю с искусственным небом, луной и летучими мышами, которых они в пищу все-таки не употребляют, и огромные яхты. Поскольку моря нет, их возят на платформах по песку и любуются, у кого больше.

Во время этих парадов плюкане вылезают из нор, им разрешено гордиться дорогими судами, как своими».

«Под землей они настроили храмов для богов родов войск, отраслевых министерств, тайной и явной полиции (оцелопов) и грандиозную пустоту для бога, охраняющего администрацию ПЖ».

«На планете Плюк все чиновники обязаны воровать и брать взятки. Большие начальники воруют большие деньги, наполняют ими бассейны, где давно нет воды, и купаются в валюте.

Окружение ПЖ иногда ради смеха и примера вылавливает из этих денег укравших сверх принятого и забывших поделиться товарищей.

Лучше всего они клюют на портфель с колбасой».

«Как расшифровывается КЦ, я не знаю, но понял, что это необыкновенно дефицитное на Плюке вещество чести. Аборигены хотят добыть его или украсть у случайно попавших на планету пристойных землян с единственной целью — перепродать».

Иногда мы с Данелией беседовали о высоком и наблюдали его. Но футбольное испанское «классико» случалось не часто, к тому же Николаич уже плохо видел, а я слышал не все, и его это раздражало. Тем не менее говорил он тихо.

— Ты за кого будешь болеть?

— За «Реал». — Отвечал я, зная, что он любит Месси. Это была ожидаемая жертва качества.

— Тогда я за «Барселону», — брал он фигуру.

Ему был нужен спарринг-партнер. До последнего дня.

Гия был отчаянный спорщик. Временами он впадал в оправдание своих бывших надежд на нереализованное социальное равенство в стране, где вырос, жил и где выкроил собственное поле, куда мы ходили дышать чистым воздухом обаяния и любови.

У него была привилегия очень крупного художника населять свои родины персонажами, которые становились близкими на всю нашу жизнь. Более близкими, чем многие собственные родственники. Потому что Бенджамена, Луку, Травкина из «33», Мимино и Хачикяна, Бузыкина с Варварой и соседом Василием Ивановичем — «хорошо сидим», двух инопланетных плутов Уэфа и Би с земным прорабом дядей Вовой, и еще, и ещё… мы выбрали сами в друзья или попутчики на дальнюю дорогу, а родственников, как говорит Собакин, судьба нам «втюхивает» весьма различного ассортимента. Там свобода, здесь приговор. Ну да, порой оправдательный.

«Не горюй!» — родина прошлого. «Кин-дза-дза» — будущего. А все, что было между ними (вольно пренебрегая хронологией), — родина настоящего.

Данелия был не беден на дружеские отношения, многих любил и иногда доверял чужому мнению.

Тонино Гуэрра был одним из тех, к кому он прислушивался, а не обдумывал во время разговора, как бы остроумно и убедительно возразить. Медаль «Амаркорд», которою Феллини и Гуэрра учредили как собственный знак за лучший фильм и наградили им «Не горюй!», почитал самым важным призом в своей биографии. Они с Тонино часто перезванивались, уговаривая друг друга, когда кто-то из них «первым перейдет в другую, как говорил Гуэрра, комнату», не теряться там и подождать у входа. Больше-то спешить некуда. Потом о деле:

— Гия! Там у тебя в анимационном фильме в одном месте должна быть гроза.

Данелия обаятельно смеялся, как будто соглашаясь, и переводил разговор на нейтральные темы. С Гуэррой ему спорить не хотелось.

В финальном варианте картины, впрочем, гроза была, о чем он с удовольствием сообщил Тонино.

Он был старше Данелии на десять лет и ушел раньше. Лора, давний друг Николаича, русская жена Тонино, нашла ему место успокоения в скале, нависшей над их домом в Пеннабилли.

Совершенно глухой, да к тому же лишенный музыкального слуха итальянец (!) Джанни, цирюльник, которого Гуэрра научил быть антикваром, подошел к вдове и сказал: — Я выдолбил в камне нишу для Тонино, как ты просила. Может, заодно и вторую сделать, пока инструмент под рукой.

— У него все сложилось, — сказал Данелия, когда я пересказывал ему хронику хороших итальянских похорон. — А я хотел уйти раньше Жени Примакова. Он бы позаботился, чтоб я был в хорошей компании: Вадим Юсов, Лелик Табаков, Лева Дуров, Слава Говорухин… Там есть рулетка, как думаешь?

Он и оказался на Новодевичьем в этой компании.

Почетный караул и военные с карабинами напомнили кадр из его фильма «Настя». Правда, песню «Вот возьму и повешусь, тру-ля, тру-ля, тру-ля, тру-ля-ля» он не услышал. А услышал, как русские отцы отпели его на русском, а приехавший из Тбилиси священник прочитал прощальное слово Католикоса-патриарха Илии II на грузинском языке.

Тут в инвалидном кресле с охапкой белых роз подкатила Галина Борисовна Волчек проститься с другом и режиссером, в чьем первом не сохранившемся фильме, снятом еще на Высших режиссерских курсах, играла Варвару, жену Васисуалия Лоханкина, с Евгением Евстигнеевым.

— Как хорошо выглядит Гия, — сказала она.

— Клянусь, Галя, ты выглядишь лучше.

— Ну тебя! – засмеялась Галина Борисовна, талантливая и в юморе.

В это время грянул залп ружейного салюта.

Она отъехала на своей тачанке, посмотрела на красавцев в дорогой армейской униформе:

— Лучше бы они ему спели это… на речке, на речке… — Потом закурила и сказала: — А я, Собакин, любила с ним поговорить.

Но в конце своего дальнего похода у него осталось, пожалуй, мало партнеров для этого развлечения. Ему приходилось довольствоваться нашими беседами о впечатлениях (порой серьезных), которые мы накопили лет за сто шестьдесят жизней, если сложить.

— Рождение человека, — говорил он глядя в окно на Чистые пруды, знакомые ему с детства, — это таинство Божье. И смерть — таинство. Человек ведь задуман по образу и подобию. No?

— Нет, — говорю я, как часто говорят грузины в начале фразы, даже соглашаясь. - Certainly!

— Жизнь тоже таинство. Но если ее превратить в рациональную, просчитанную математическую модель и тем лишить тайны, разве не будет это разрушение божественного замысла?

- Certainly!

— Человек, созиданье Господа, превращается в подобие цифрового носителя… Если все можно проверить, то во что верить?

- Certainly!

— Или ты думаешь, что на земле больше нет места для успокоительной мечты о том , что никогда не кончается.

У меня было желание ответить словами отца Гермогена из великой сцены прощания героя с этим миром в «Не горюй!», но сказал:

- Certainly! Хочешь конфетку?

— Нету у тебя.

В ходе эпизода прощания в фильме два крестьянина приносят гробы в дом доктора и слышат веселую музыку поминального застолья по не усопшему хозяину.

— Леван, там гробы принесли. Тебе черный или красный?

- Black!

— Гия! — говорил я ему весело. — На каком доме повесить мемориальную доску, конечно, когда придет пора, на этом или на Чистопрудном, 23?

— На двадцать третьем. Где я жил с мамой.

Пока не удалось, извини, но я помню.