O-Bi, O-Ba: The End of Civilization

Synopsis: Set in an underground dungeon inhabited by bundled, ragged human beings, after the nuclear holocaust. The story follows the wanderings of a hero through the situations of survival. People wait for the Ark to arrive and rescue them while their habitat falls apart.
 
IMDB:
7.2
Year:
1985
88 min
169 Views


O-bi, O-ba.

End of Civilization

Starring

Also starring

Sound

Film editor

Set decorations

Music

Photography

Production manager

Written and directed

It is now a year since the

nuclear war rolled over the world.

Seeing our uniforms,

the survivors demonstrated indifference,

and sometimes contempt. Fools.

Who won the war?

The Booroos were not coming.

No one was.

We were left alone

with a pack of survivors

whom we were supposed to defend.

Defend?

They had to be

herded together, organized,

and moved to safety,

to some cover against the fallout

where they would have

a chance to wait, to survive longer,

and to start everything

from scratch again.

There was such a place.

High up in the mountains

there was a structure

with a dome insulated

from the atmospheric influence.

We only had to persuade the

silly mob to move to that shelter.

That's was how

Project Ark came into being.

We invented it to save them.

That was one year ago,

One year, I guess.

What is this?

- What is this?!

- What is this?

The Booroos will

hold out and win?!

- Who got it from them?

- Kraft, as usual.

They don't like the guy,

so they play tricks on him.

It's no tricks.

It's subversion.

You have orders to catch

the rats who plant this sh*t.

- I am not a policeman.

- You got your orders.

Okay.

Where did Kraft spot it.

At his doorstep.

I'll deal with it.

And hit them stinkards, hard.

I'll take them out of it.

- It's not a problem.

- Soft.

What?

I wish we had

a police force here.

You'll never

grasp principles.

Another day,

another joy, isn't it?

Soft... you promised.

Remember?

What?

You promised me time

to take you to my Eden.

I see.

Soft, I am

scared of them all.

I trust only you, for you

are my friend, aren't you?

Yes.

You are the only one to know.

If they knew,

they would take it away.

But the Eden is

mine, mine, you see!

Soft, you won't betray me?

Will you come with me?

Soft, you won't regret,

it's the real Eden, salvation.

Listen, a man

must have friends.

You are my friend.

I sense it.

I will share my Eden with you,

save both of us.

Will you come along?

I don't know.

Maybe in the afternoon.

I can't right now.

In the afternoon.

Thank you.

Thank you.

- Is this all?

- More tomorrow.

Sign here.

Come here. Do you need

to stick around?

I know it's a shame, but I've

been a greedy-guts since the cradle.

And you can't organize?

I can't.

I tried and got cheated.

Not smart enough.

- Take this.

- Just for free?

- For free.

- Thank you!

Forget it.

Fatso, can't you find out

who plants leaflets with Kraft?

Is it a hunt?

- No.

- So why do you need it?

It's business.

I don't know,

but I may ask.

I'll find you.

Listen! Maybe you'll have more

such spare hard tracks tomorrow?

I will.

If you keep it up for a few days,

I will find out what I can. For sure.

The Ark does not exist

and will never arrive.

Don't believe in hearsay,

witchcraft and superstitions.

Your today and tomorrow

is only in your hands.

The Ark does not exist!

Why checking?

I have to.

The same as usual.

It may be all

the same for you,

but my production

must be up to the standard.

Get everything in one go

and I'll check it once.

Canned beef, bacon with

peas pudding, sprats.

I pay you well, you see?

Your cutlery.

Good silver.

It must be up to standard,

because it is a symbol.

The only thing

people care about.

Want to buy onion?

Where and at what price?

There is a little punk

hanging around the pump at two.

Come and he'll find you.

You have enough

for one onion.

- We'll settle accounts later.

- Am I to pay with this?

It's better than money.

Banknotes break easily,

while this is a sacred thing.

- Thank you.

- Forget it.

All what counts

for me is our goal.

I work for the Ark,

for sanctity.

The Ark does not exist

and will never arrive.

Don't believe in hearsay,

witchcraft and superstitions.

Your today and tomorrow

is only in your hands.

The Ark does not exist!

I buy you a drink.

Thanks for the girl.

She's superb, professional.

Don't fret.

You have no money?

Shame on you.

Dough is the basics,

the fundamentals.

Dough is a miracle cure.

Get even the craziest

guy and show him dough.

He will recover

to normally in a jiffy.

He'll become

frightfully normal

and will sell you everything,

even his place on the Ark.

That's the nuts.

If you want,

I'll buy that lady for you.

Do you want?

Even for the whole night.

Exclusive for you.

Quite free,

out of friendship, you see?

- Hey, did you like it?

- Mhm...

- Was it nice?

- Yes.

Then, bugger off!

This is for you.

- Just for free?

- Let's get away from here.

- Right now?

- Yes.

I gotta stick around.

For whom?

Guys like you.

Anyhow, where's

the place to go?

My place.

But in return for this

can you may have me here and now.

- How about it?

- No.

You sell your brains.

I only sell my body,

give you some joy.

Who's worse?

Come on.

When the Ark arrives to take

us aboard, I will be only yours.

I love you.

I love you too.

And it's all I can

do and like doing.

Well, did you find out who'd

planted leaflets with Kraft?

- Have you another can for me?

- Speak!

What about the can?

On your kness, bark!

Bow-wow, bow-wow!

What do you actually do?

I do what they

tell me, why?

Just wondering.

- Just that?

- Just that.

I'm fixing that sh*t pane.

If it drops away, it'll

mean the crack has widened.

It's as hopeless as your

mission to keep people happy.

But it's important

to know if the walls

around us are cracking

or not, isn't it?

Very important.

But I do not need the

panes to know they are cracking.

You've invented this

job just to keep us busy.

Everything is cracking here,

it's plain enough.

I often hear

cracks at night.

Everone does.

Tell me:
Is it true

that if the dome collapses,

we are in for

death out there?

Actually, there

is another problem.

Bugger it!

Why do you plant

leaflets with Kraft?!

Is this your only problem?

Your joke makes

a political issue.

Now listen, mug.

I plant the Booroo trash

just out of concern for him.

Now that the Booroos are missing,

he has lost track of life, you see?

I found him wasting away daily,

so I hit upon the leaflet stuff.

Now look how happy

it's made him.

- He is fighting the Booroos again.

- So it's an affection for Kraft?

Sh*t, no.

Kraft is a damn bastard and blockhead,

but he's a good chess player.

If he died,

I would lose the partner.

All right, go ahead with

leaflets, but make them smarter.

How smarter?

Like writing that

Kraft's wife has survived,

asked for asylum with the

Booroos and hit the hot line.

Then he'll be

ashamed to show it off.

Hey!

And if the dome breaks up,

will you still be tailing after us?

- You want to buy it?

- Yes.

- How many?

- One.

- One for six arks, or two for ten.

- But I want one.

Not here, patsy.

Six arks.

I only have five arks.

Nothing doing.

The price's six.

Wait.

You can coin

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Piotr Szulkin

Piotr Szulkin (Polish pronunciation: [ˈpjɔtr ˈʂulkʲin]; 26 April 1950 – 5 August 2018) was a Polish film director and writer. He directed over thirty films, both Polish and international productions. He was a recipient of "Best Science Fiction Film Director" at Eurocon in 1984. During the latter part of his career, he was also a professor at the National Film School in Łódź. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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