I Never Cry (Jak Najdalej Stąd)

OK. Keep driving straight.

A crossing.

Good.

So it's not your first time?

It's my third.

Well then,

third time lucky.

Fucking police, fucking police, fucking police, fucking...

Sorry.

Well...

So far so good.

Let's go back to the test centre.

Okay.

Fucking police, fucking police, fucking police, fucking...

I'm so sorry.

- What was that? - He pulled out, I had to go around him.

- It's a solid line before a junction. - I'm sorry.

Move over, the test's over.

But it's his fault.

Please get out of the car.

What are you looking at?

Fucking hell, stop that!

Third time! Third fucking time!

Don't touch the girl!

- Is she a psycho or what? - Fuck off!

I'll fuck you up!

- It's a test, I'm recording everything. - Great, then I'll have the evidence.

- You drove out in front of me. - Leave the girl!

I'm sorry.

Fuck off!

Or I'll call the police. Now!

I'm sorry.

Get in the car.

So the exam is still on?

Are you fucking kidding?

Get in the car!

You can take it in another area.

| work in transport.

| drive trucks.

Cool.

- Goska! - I'd love to go to Brazil.

Might be hard by truck.

How did you manage?

Like a whore in the rain.

Fuck.

I've told you not to leave the trash there!

Why aren't you at school?

Ola!

Take this.

Fuck, bro.

What did you eat?

Didn't I tell you not to pig out on kebabs?

Do you have to talk such rubbish?

It's better than breathing in the stink, right bro?

| need a hundred and fifty zlotys.

For what?

For the test.

| already gave it to you.

But I failed.

Why?

Because I suck.

Ok, pick him up.

OK.

Will you give it to me or not?

Ask your dad. I can't afford it.

He can't find out that I failed.

Maybe driving just isn't for you.

Thanks for the encouragement.

Since you've failed so many times...

- And you succeed at everything first time? - 1,500 for the course...

Four tests... 600.

Move.

Since when did you get so good at maths?

We've managed without a car so far

and it'll be an expense, right?

Don't worry, it's not your money.

We don't need one.

We don't!

Because it's a car for me!

Get it?

It's a gift for me.

A gift!

He promised me.

I'm sorry, champ.

Relax.

Maybe you enjoy being stuck here,

but Pawel and I want to see the world.

Right, bro?

Yes.

Fist bump.

Move.

Our old man isn't going to drive us around, is he?

Not 'your old man', but dad.

And no he won't. He's working hard SO you can eat... and smoke! Get it?

You have to tell him!

I will.

When he gets his ass over here!

Yo.

Hi.

Yo.

Hi, kiddo.

What's up?

Shouldn't you be at school?

And you?

Sasha, you were supposed to finish 15 fucking minutes ago!

Lolek!

Can I work today?

Okay. Get changed, you can help this dumb-ass.

Ola!

If there's an inspection, pretend you speak Russian.

For today.

Thanks.

Aren't you too young to smoke?

And what's the right age?

It says eighteen on the pack,

but that's the EU standard

and what do they know?

| need a favour.

- Sasha, why are you pissing me off? - Sorry, boss.

Pick it up.

Sorry.

Well?

Can you keep it for me a bit longer?

How long?

| failed the test.

My father will only send the cash after I show him my driving license.

That's the deal.

How is he?

No idea.

We have a deal, he knows nothing about me and vice versa.

Fair enough.

Tell him that if he wants to come back...

Fucking police, fucking police, fucking police, fucking...

- What's up? - Hello Ola.

When will you be back?

What's happened?

| got a call from Ireland.

Father?

No.

Show me the number.

- For fuck's sake. - What's he saying?

SOMETHING NICE FOR YOU TO DREAM ABOUT.

WANNA SEND ME SOMETHING TOO?

Next!

Mum!

Your husband hasn't been registered at the Employment Centre for seven years.

Because he worked over there...

legally.

You need to send us the death certificate

and the district head needs to agree to receive the body in his area.

Then you'll have to speak to the cemetery manager,

and then it'll be... fine.

And this death certificate...

How do I get it?

From the place where he died.

And...

can someone send it to us?

Well... the person who'll take care of it.

How much will it cost?

I'll write you permission and you'll be fine.

| have school!

And I don't speak English!

Mum...

| can't, I'm not even eighteen yet. I've never been on a plane!

| can't afford to pay a stranger to take care of it.

And we need to bring him here.

We're not letting your father lie God knows where.

You have to bring him home.

The funeral allowance will cover the tickets

and you'll get some kind of insurance.

Or you can use the money he was saving for you.

Will you do it?

Do it for me.

How are you holding up?

OK.

Yeah, right.

It's fucked up.

It is fucked up.

He's fucked us all.

Especially me.

What?

My father... with this car thing.

Stop it. He's dead.

Exactly.

All the money he saved up for me will be wasted on his funeral.

You're fucked up.

He was your father.

Part-time.

- Wanna share? - Sure.

Best to get a carton now, I've heard they're expensive as fuck over there.

I'm quitting anyway.

I've got no cash.

Look.

Oh fuck.

He's hot!

I'm not sure. He's got a sort of potato face.

Hardcore.

What should I do?

Return the favour.

- How? - I don't know... send him your tits.