First Creative Amalgamate
The film crew thanks the sailors of the Black
Sea Fleets for help filming the movie.
Cry of the Dolphin
Script by Nikolay Cherkashin
Producer Aleksey Saltykov
Cinematographer Aleksandr Ryabov
Production Designer Stalen Volkov
Composer Georgiy Garanyan Sound Vladimir Sharun
Director S. Tarasov Cameraman I. Yumashev
Editor S. Guralskaya Makeup Z. Yegorova Costumes Ye. Galkina
Head Consultant Admiral N.I. Smirnov
Consultants V. Losikov, N. Maryashin, V. Kozyrev, Ye. Shishkova
Script editor N. Glagoleva Sound track editor A. Lapisov
This film uses excerpts from classical music
Executive Producer Tamara Kharitonova
Starring:
Ivars Kalniņš as Rayflint
Donatas Banionis as Bar-Mattai Armen Jigarkhanyan as The Steward
Yuriy Vasilyev as O'Gregory Paul Butkevich as Roop
Cast:
Nika - T. Parkina, Flaggi - K. Mitaishvili, Magda - N. Butyrtseva
Navy Secretary - R. Yankovskiy Doctor - V. Bekeris Barney - V. Shubarin Katarina - I. Pogodina
Appel - R. Antsans Sam - V. Episkoposyan Jack - A. Podoshyan Violist - M. Tolpygo
with: F. Anemed, O. Volmer, I. Vorobyev, A. Yelizaryev, V. Kozyrev, Zh. Massukh,
Yu. Mikheenkov, K. Oya, G. Saltykova, V. Tomkus, V. Yatautis, and others
You know,
For the first time it's so hard to send you to sea.
Though today for the first time my ship will have a ceremonious sendoff.
Of course.
The whole nation will see you on TV.
But understand me, Ray -
I can't be there any more.
Nine years I'm seeing you off to sea!
You leave, and I stay here, alone,
to wander around an empty house.
Have you been thinking this way for long?
No.
I don't know.
Here is exactly how much you need.
I changed what's inside.
Now it's tuned to the Archelon's frequency.
Leave it always turned on.
When we are returning, I'll play this recording.
Listen:
Time to announce 2-hour warning to cast off!
Just never adjust the frequency, and never turn it off.
I'll be waiting for you the whole time.
End farewells, crew below!
Don't worry. Everything will be all right, I promise.
At least it will be fun for me!
What moved you to join this voyage?
The Navy Department approached the Psychology Association
and its proposal astonished me
and it interested me, too.
Specifically, I'm interested in interpersonal relationships
in a closed environment.
Ergonomics, how man chafes against the machine,
You're going to study our consciousness.
I don't study consciousness, but rather human behavior.
I read your book on psychological systems.
Nonsense, I know warriors don't read books.
Your ideas on man and society are controversial.
Maybe.
I think they contain a threat to society.
You suffer from too narrow a professional specialty.
Maybe you don't understand the humanities.
I hate them.
The first four silos are not to be opened even in event of war
and this is your personal cipher code.
Installation of biomaterials on this submarine
is classified top secret and is revealed on this ship only to you, Dr. Kokoleinen.
All hands to general quarters!
That's for later.
I wish to report to you that four missiles
aboard Archelon have a special purpose.
Even if they are shot down,
the payload will be delivered and hit the target.
How to avoid...
I know that. I know. I think we need to decide to expand
the program for modernization of strategic forces
in the Adriatic.
Of course.
We should continue, full speed ahead,
with creating qualitatively new systems, nuclear...
as well as more powerful destructive weapons.
I envy you, Commodore. You may have a chance take my place,
but I'll never have the chance to command your vessel.
Permit me, Commodore, to remind you,
that over half of our offensive strategic potential
is found in the ocean.
And on your submarine raider we place
especial hopes.
Remember, Commodore.
The ocean is the beam balance of the earth.
Your Tomahawk is the weight that allows us to keep the scales balanced.
Hello, Nika!
Hello, come in! The broadcast has started.
Dear TV Viewers, this is a historic day.
The newest strategic missile submarine goes on its maiden patrol today.
You will watch enviously as it goes to sea.
Inside this god of war, which can travel underwater as fast as an express train,
are twenty-four missile silos,
and in them 24 ballistic missiles,
and each of them has 12 nuclear warheads.
This is the newest warship, and it is specially assigned to
Commodore Rayflint, at 33 the youngest
commanding officer of a ballistic missile sub.
Your husband is a real sea lord. Is he the same way at home?
Oh, no. At home he's just himself.
They say all submariners - their wives truly love them. Is that true?
I suppose.
What - and yours?
Yes, of course.
Life is iron in magnetic fields.
Constant stress, sensory deprivation.
Just one volley from Archelon can turn an entire country
to ashes, like Poland, or Greece with all its islands.
Ladies and gentlemen, at this time I am aboard the Archelon,
an underwater fortress in our defenses.
You can't hide the fact that no other ship cost our nation this much.
But peace on our planet is worth much more.
And God will help us!
The launcher is equipped with a handle
that resembles the butt of a Colt .45
except that butt has no barrel.
So, I squeeze the launch button, and...
Our civilization is the evolution of smokes,
from cannon gunsmoke to the mushroom cloud of an atomic blast.
The planet's hour of judgment
is marked by a launching relay.
The ICBM aims at a point on a trajectory known only to an electronic memory.
The warheads split up, each aimed at its own city.
and they carry under their cones multiple weapons so an
enemy's territory can be covered with a nuclear carpet.
That's what a nuclear attack looks like.
But don't worry, it's not a war.
We only showed you underwater tests.
At present Archelon has set course for an island in the Atlantic
for topping off its food supplies
and a brief shore leave for the crew.
They should take us to that little island!
Russian ships, sir.
Helm, depth under the keel?
Hundred forty feet.
Crash dive.
Aye aye.
Evasive maneuvers.
Welllll....
I swear, Hippocrates! Even this hole seems like a corner of paradise.
So, where did you hurt yourself? Look - here -
I just need to wipe it with gasoline.
Doc, it's time for you to go.
Magda!
I don't like it here.
But I just got here! It's fun here!
Meat's burning somewhere.
Nothing to worry about.
Temporary atrophy of temperature and pain nerves.
A loss of sensation.
Not a threat to loving relations.
This is bad. Since reactor startup
the biosafety shield is failing.
Our steward is covered with bronze-colored spots.
Take a seat.
The bioshielding is nominal. An hour ago I checked it personally.
Maybe confine him to sickbay?
Not necessary.
Why not?
I can't drive the ship from sickbay.
Radiogram to the chief of naval operations:
1-6-3-1-1-4-9-3-4-1-2-1-5-3-5-4 4-1-8-2-2
To: Submarine raider, 1900 be in quadrant 37-40, transfer to helicopter container
of atmospheric samples from compartments.
Hello, Flaggi? - Yes?
Have you decided to marry me yet?
Not yet.
Too bad.
I keep telling you that submariners are kamikazes.
Something wrong with Barney?
Not just with him.
Talk to me, for God's sake.
Not over the phone.
Then get over here, now!
Can't right now. I'll come when I can.
As a result of bacteriological analysis of the biosamples
we observed a bacillus of a disease unknown to science.
The symptoms resemble leprosy.
Probably in conditions of weak radiation from the reactor,
for some reason a new breed of microorganism emerged.
It's impossible to foresee the danger to the world of contact with new viruses
with Earth, with mankind. It's a genie in a bottle.
Therefore, contact between the crew and land must be precluded.
You want to send to the bottom an entire missile platform.
The essence of my suggestion boils down to this:
in an old, abandoned concentration camp in the Shedrups, organize
something like a leper colony for the infected crew.
The only problem left is what to do with the submarine.
Can it be disinfected?
Full disinfection of Archelon is impossible.
Everything inside would have to be replaced.
I demand at least a partial disinfection.
A strategic nuclear vessel should be at sea.
With a new crew?
Then you'll have to have to find yet another uninhabited island.
You don't realize what damage you are doing to the fleet's offensive ability
by removing a strategic nuclear sub from combat patrol.
Let's have the opinion of everyone here.
By old fleet tradition, the most junior goes first.
Captain O'Gregory of the Medical Service?
It seems to me senseless to relieve the Archelon's crew.
There's something to that.
How does the disease affect
the victim's ability to work?
Practically not at all.
Based on our data the victims retain full mental and physical capacity.
Though, many will show external symptoms.
Well, that's just esthetics.
In O'Gregory's proposal I see a solution.
Archeolon's energy source is designed to last five years
of continuous service, so we have time to find an antidote.
If the crew is at sea for some time
we won't need a leper colony,
we won't have to disinfect, and our defenses will remain stable.
But people are suffering.
They are military people, Professor.
Monstrous.
Where is our democracy?
I request permission to take my seat.
Be seated, Major.
At least let them choose for themselves!
Either an island, or the ocean!
The leadership on humanitarian principles proposes for your
consideration the following options:
One: proceed to North Atlantic, to Shedrup Island
for isolation of infected crewmen in quarantine hospitals
with transfer of ship to disinfection crew.
Two: proceed to station to conduct combat patrol.
Following discovery of effective treatment, return to base.
If you select option two, rate of pay will be doubled.
Roop, set course for the North Atlantic, Shedrup Island.
Roop, come in.
Attention, all hands of Archelon.
We're transmitting a special program from your relatives and family members.
We're all proud of your courage, my dear.
And believe God won't abandon you.
Don't despair, don't give up.
How do you feel, Ray?
I'm so sorry for you.
Forgive me.
Hi, dear! I already miss you!
Now that you are on the main battle line with the Red Menace,
we, your girlfriends, will do everything
to help you defeat the Evil Empire.
Barney, my dear, don't despair.
Don't think that you're already dead.
Even if you feel a bit sick.
Remember, I told you I'm happy...
You came to observe life in an artificial environment.
Habits form a basis for appreciation.
What sort of habits? For all time, a woman on board is bad luck.
That is subordinated to an ancient code: enjoy life while you're alive.
As an idea, that's "moment de more".
I remember, of death.
That's the most characteristic thing in group behavior
in a man-machine system.
It resembles crowning the insane.
Alas.
I elicit human reserves to operate machinery under extreme conditions.
We should also offer some sort of usefulness.
Off-duty personnel, report to the upper deck!
Understand: either this Riviera, or the ocean.
If the second choice, we'll be paid double.
The ocean!
All hands below deck!
There!
Hey, cutie! Why are you still red-headed?
And maybe you brought us this leprosy!
Look at her! Not one spot!
Get her off the ship!
Where is she?
Open it!
Very well, sir.
Give me a pill for my headache.
I, the medical officer of Archelon, reveal a secret.
God.
I alone in the crew knew that among the missile warheads aboard
four contain very dangerous bacteriological weapons.
They are loaded with arenaviruses.
Obviously the seals failed and a leak has occured.
My mind no longer allows me to perform my control functions.
It's hopeless.
I've taken potassium cyanide.
Attention: launch of missiles 1 through 4 is
authorized only on receipt of signal "Good"
Roop, we need to completely seal silos 1 through 4.
1, 2, 3, 4 - best just to weld them shut.
Weld? But they're aimed at Moscow!
Weld them. Weld them shut. Their missiles aren't combat ready.
Wouldn't it be simpler to disarm them in a safe zone?
Don't ask pointless questions.What the hell is a safe zone?
For these missiles there are no safe zones.
To Raider Commander:
Proceed to quadrant 23-15. Upon arrival dock with barge.
Take on board food supplies.
After loading, submerge and proceed to patrol station and
carry out your orders.
I beg you.
Please, any psalm for the soul of the murdered.
neither Christ nor Mohammed.
If it's nice, I'll forget everything.
Holy Father, any kind of psalm?
I'm not a holy father.
I beg of you. She was guilty of nothing.
I'm sorry, but I don't know any psalms.
Marry us. By proxy.
No. I should first hear her agreement.
She agrees! She agrees! She agrees!
She had that job because she didn't have a great life.
And you'll hear her agreement.
It's also impossible because I cannot conjure the souls of the dead!
But try!
I beg you.
All right.
I'll do as you ask.
You wanted to see Katarina.
There she is.
Marry us.
Join your hands, my children.
Whoever plows the seas, joins with good fortune,
for him the world dawns, and he reaps without sowing, for
the sea is the field of hope.
Rejoice, my children!
I request assignment to the loading party.
A little air.
Listen closely to me, calm down!
It's not leprosy on the Archelon. It's an unknown disease with no cure.
Archelon is buried at sea.
I hope you understand that this is for your ears only.
The signal is his signal. They're coming back!
Give me the keys!
My dear!
At the base, all radio equipment operates on that frequency!
My wife was guilty of nothing. Hear that, you bastard?
Go there, and give her my greetings!
All hands below decks!
Get back!
Archelon has turned into a giant underwater leper colony.
We were informed of this by the wife of one of the infected crewmen.
To save the sick crew, the nation's best scientific minds have been mobilized.
In the microbiology center intense searches are underway to find effective medicines.
Major O'Gregory!
Yes. - I hope you understand what "top secret" means.
Not to mention the damage to morale
you inflicted on the fleet before the whole world.
Revealing top secret information is punishable by life in prison,
and in the event of severe damage to national security, the death penalty.
O'Gregory, I'm very sorry this all happened this way.
I always considered you an outstanding worker.
However, you have a chance, not only to avoid a court martial,
but even to continue your career honorably.
Aboard Archelon the diving medical officer position is vacant.
Think about it, O'Gregory.
You'll not only avoid shame, you'll become a national hero.
The whole world will know about the noble act of a military doctor.
In time, they'll find a vaccine, and you'll return triumphantly.
This disease is incurable.
Only the Lord God can make such a catogorical statement.
Make up your mind, O'Gregory: electric chair or hero's laurels.
I agree.
Then sign this.
However, if the disease really turns out to be incurable,
as they say, in such cases, medicine will render merciful aid to the afflicted.
Yes, sir.
This steel tomb is starting to get on my nerves.
Do you want some fresh air?
Mm-hm.
Let's go. To the bridge.
The former wife of the commander of Archelon, Nika Rayflint,
left today on her honeymoon with a petroleum king from Abu Dhabi.
Receive Aesculapius! But your wives...
Commander,
Underwater contact.
Most likely a foreign submarine.
Russian?
In any case not one of our types.
Hard to port!
Make our depth one thousand feet. Evasive maneuvers!
God resides in the ocean,
and that means under water.
Hear that? That's the ocean itself.
Our common primogenitor.
All the salt we carry in our blood
is trying to tell us something.
It's possible to reason, to caution...
the ocean for ages feeding billions of people...
so choose between unacceptable life or death.
We've drifted too far.
Do you hear that?
That's the cry of dolphins.
They say they don't destroy each other.
They're not as stupid as we are.
Haven't you noticed?
The dolphin's profile resembles Socrates.
Maybe.
Dolphins mask screw noises well.
That's a pod of dolphins. They've followed us almost since we left home.
I'm starting to tell them apart by their voices.
That one - I call him Teddy.
You're wrong. His name is Delph.
In Socrates' language, that means "brother."
How do you know his name?
He's my dolphin. I gave him his name.
So, maybe he's following you?
Following me.
I once studied problems of biological regulation.
We also carried out special assignments.
Instead of torpedoes, we had dolphins.
It was a dirty game.
And I got out of it just in time...
And I released them to the sea.
And I myself ended up thrown overboard.
Once again your luck held.
Commander, it is my duty to warn you that remaining at this depth
will be dangerous.
Something with the reactor?
Worse. People are refusing to stand watch.
Surface.
We'll heave to.
Aye. The stealth mode?
It's morning up there...sir.
Surface, Roop.
Today we celebrate
our patrol's first anniversary.
We'll invite guests to celebrate.
Commander, bearing: starboard 20,
screw noises of a surface target.
Roop, how much longer can our reactor run without replacing the uranium rods?
Two or three years.
Wonderful.
I want to know your opinion of my plan to send a false signal - fire
in the reactor room, loss of propulsion
and helm, radiation level rising,
so easier to believe Archelon is dead. They'll believe we no longer exist.
2-3-8-9-47-9-82-47 6-8-1-2-1-43-4-2
Mr. Captain, lifeboat dead ahead. Distress flares burning.
All stop.
Take me immediately to your captain. Your liner is in grave danger.
Maybe your crew needs some rest.
No! - Then they can stay below.
No! Where is your radio room?
We found the radio room.
Go!
Music.
Stop! Leave my wife alone!
Save me!
I have 117 million dollars in the bank. I'll give you half.
Just leave her alone. She's unwell.
I'm also unwell. Very unwell.
I'll write you a check right now.
Just leave her be.
I'll dot the i on it, now move.
Fire control, salvo!
The death of Archelon and disappearance of the liner
occurred along the boundary of the Bermuda Triangle.
Those damned Bermudas again.
They're not that damned.
At least now the press will quiet down,
and stop making inquiries of the government.
Yes, it couldn't have ended better.
The Archelon did its duty.
The Archelon can just...
Three years on combat patrol is unprecedented.
I honestly didn't think they would last that long.
Mr. Secretary, I assume that Commodore Rayflint
deserves the Order of the Naval Chevalier, First Rank.
Posthumously.
No doubt.
Yes,you can experiment on people here with no impediments.
Like in Vietnam.
That great cause.
Your observations, your chronicles - you'll never get to transmit them to the living.
And I, the Biblical apostle
will depart this meaningless life. I can say to humanity such words
that millions will bow before me!
And where am I, Mister Captain of the Archelon?
Prophet - s'chrema k'itola in the language of Christ -
There - the only creature in the world that hasn't abandoned us.
It will be too bad if it gets tangled in our screw.
Heroin?
Psychomemetic, with heroin.
Well, so, a good means.
Through the system.
Mainline it.
In three minutes everyone's asleep.
If we were smarter we'd have used this rat trap long ago.
Why leave anyone alive?
I found here in the Bible the words
of St. Luke.
"You are as closed coffins, in which people walk,
and know it not."
Verily, submarines are the
grave worms of humanity.
Today the weather is beautiful.
Our TV cameras will help you follow
the launch of the space ship.
Ladies and gentlemen,
at this hour I am at the launchng pad of a manned space ship,
the Star of Bethlehem,
the front line of our space defense.
Space is the balance beam of peace.
The Star of Bethlehem is one of the weights that maintains balance.
We with God's blessing reserve the right to advance this policy,
without wavering.
Not one ship has cost our nation as much as this one,
but peace on the planet...
They'll get another Archelon.
Only in space.
...and God will help us!
The whole operation should take no longer than 30 minutes.
between launch and deployment of warheads aimed at specific targets.
To achieve maximum effectiveness,
we are developing the so-called
stratum-rotator, that is,
it's proposed to operate in particular
strata of the cosmos as well as
on land masses.
The first space ship should smash
the first wave of missiles, easing
the task of the second, third and fourth.
In this manner we'll create a virtually
impenetrable defense network.
Fall asleep in silence, awaken to thunder.
Life arose on Earth about four billion years ago.
And man appeared
six hundred million years ago.
By some calculations, people
will inhabit Earth another six billion years.
And that means we've gone all of one meter
out of a ten kilometer distance.
Which awaits us to surmount
in our history.
I read a pile of this inspired crap,
and I'm stunned.
How insignificant is man's self esteem!
And his life.
How senseless is his existence itself!
I came to an obvious conclusion.
Humankind is an evolutionary dead end.
And man is a mistake of Nature.
He has no future.
He is doomed to birth and death.
Isn't it reasonable to assist evolution?
To start from scratch?
Twelve missiles across Eurasia
Twelve on the American continent.
A purifying flame will ignite and
the planet will be engulfed by a fiery tornado.
There will be no beginning.
Nuclear winter will set in.
The Earth will be charred,
dead,
and that will end life,
the only,
the unrepeatable,
forever.
Human life is accidental and devoid of purpose.
love of humanity, in general,
are Hamlet's question,
moral ideals don't inspire anyone any more.
They are powerless before death.
All the more so that no man's life is eternal.
It is broken off, by death.
While there is still life, there is hope.
Even the man powerless before death has a purpose.
Man is the most unique creature.
And he is obliged to be aware by what means he can or
cannot achieve his goals.
Obligation to know his global, his cosmic purpose,
on Earth of his universe,
Immortality, reason, and humaneness of man
are the immortality of humanity.
Its eternity.
You view yourself like part of an endless world,
of a living, endless time.
And how do you view yourself?
An animal among animals?
And now you've torn everything that tied you to life.
You've lost your purpose,
and become a blind, death-wielding force.
Death...
is not a bad thing.
You don't dare do that, Commodore!
I didn't invite you here to engage in a discussion.
I, Commodore Rayflint,
was brought to life to save the planet.
From a mold named "mankind".
Commodore, the boat is losing control and diving rapidly!
Danger! Water leak! 45-degree angle!
Commodore, Commodore! The trim, the trim! Commodore!
We're diving toward the bottom! - Depth 600 feet.
One thousand two hundred feet.
One thousand five hundred.
One thousand seven hundred!
One thousand eight...
THE END