2017 | Fiction | 5 min. | Russia
He opens the door with his key and cautiously walks inside. He is in beautiful, but a little bleak residential loft. He looks around, listening to the ringing silence. He is tired, but very focused. In the bathroom he takes a razor and after a moment of hesitation, opens his vein. Blood runs to the glass from mutilated by the scars hand. Almost black, oily liquid fills transparent glass. Wincing in pain, he tears off a piece of bandage with his teeth and wraps another wound. The girl, emaciated by illness, is waiting for him on the bed. He hands her the coveted glass. Yielding to his insistence, She drinks the content of the glass and for a moment she is getting better. It seems that now she has the strength to stand up and take the step. He takes the girl to the hands and gently puts at the window, looking at her with tenderness and love. He wants to save her, but suddenly.... The entrance door opens and again He comes in. Why did he come? After all, the girl sitting alone at the window is dead.
I believe in the statement once suggested by French directors of New Wave — give the audience the images and let them create their internal message by themselves. I see my job as director in blending together different feelings, images, ideas and thoughts in order to let people try to study themselves and their emotions, their deep secrets and personal conclusions.
Director: Anji Taratuta
Сast: Александр Цой and Лидия Копина