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Tomorrow

"Our only direction is where the wind blows."

Judges Rembrandt, Nijinsky and Yessenin  work in a rural courthouse in Siberia. When a fourth judge (Mishkin) joins them, he soon discovers that they are not actually doing their jobs but are engaged in painting (Rembrandt), dancing (Nijinsky) and poetry (Yessenin). Mishkin does not want to and cannot accept his position, and by all means wants to do his job and meet with the chief judge, who is unclear whether he is ill, on a business trip, or simply does not like contact with people. In the end, it turns out that the chief judge is actually an old, deaf-mute servant named Nikita, whom Mishkin accidentally shoots. The farce uses absurdity and humour to reveal the banality of modern society and human relationships.

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MYSHKIN: Repeat after me. We’re judges.

YESENIN, REMBRANDT, NIJINSKY: We’re judges.

MISHKIN: We acknowledge the error of our ways.

YESSENIN, REMBRANDT, NIJINSKI: We acknowledge the error of our ways.

MISHKIN: This is a historic day.

YESSENIN, REMBRANDT, NIJINSKI: This is a historic day.

MISHKIN: The circus is closing down, from now on we will behave as befits imperial administrators of justice.

YESSENIN, REMBRANDT, NIJINSKI: From now on the truth belongs to Aleksei Ivanovich Mishkin.

(Mishkin stares at them. Defiantly, they stare back.)

MISHKIN: I hope you realize the seriousness of your situation.

YESSENIN, REMBRANDT, NIJINSKI: I hope you realize the seriousness of your situation.

MISHKIN: Stop.

YESSENIN, REMBRANDT, NIJINSKI: Stop.

MISHKIN: Get up!

YESSENIN, REMBRANDT, NIJINSKI: Get up!

MISHKIN: Shall we dance?

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