Buick Riviera

My mother...

My father...

My brother...

My mother...

My father...

My brother...

Are you one of ours?

What a small world!

I'm Vuko. -Small world, indeed.

I'm Hasan. Glad to meet you.

Let's see what's wrong

with that wreck of your car.

Do you have a towing cable?

No. Do you have it?

Come here. Let's check it out.

No, I don't have it.

What are we going to do?

Do you have phone?

- Sure I do.

Please, let me make a call.

Here you are.

- Thanks.

Where are you coming from?

- From Sarajevo.

Really... I'm from Doboy.

C'mon, I'll give you a lift.

- I wouldn't want to bother you...

Nonsense, we are countrymen.

- But...

May I make another

phone call, please?

Sure, and you don't have

to ask me again. -Thank you.

When did you immigrate here?

Oh, like... 17 years ago.

So, you went before the war.

Have you ever visited your

homeland since then? -No, never.

I didn't want to go during the war.

I was not afraid...

I just didn't want to feel the hate.

Now, I would like to go there.

To meet some people.

If they are still alive.

If they are still alive, you say...

And not to feel the hate, huh?

- That's right.

There was no hate before, and I

don't understand where it came from.

Our homeland is miserable,

and we are, as well.

What is your status here?

I've got a Green card

and Bosnian passport.

I used to have Yugoslavian

passport before. -See this...

I've got American passport.

If someone told me 20 years ago, that

I would to be an American citizen,

I wouldn't believe it.

And look at me now!

I'm doing fine in America.

It is like...

a country where men are feeling fine.

I can not even talk with those

fools in the homeland, anymore.

How long have you been here?

- Five years.

You've got a citizenship very fast.

My wife is an American.

And her father is in oil

business, loaded with money.

So, he employed some lawyers and

solved everything within a month.

You're doing fine in New World.

Were you talking with your

wife, back there? -Yes.

Is she an American?

- No.

But she has an American passport.

She was born in Berlin.

- A Kraut?

Where did you meet her?

Well, you know how it goes in life...

You never know... who are

you going to meet and marry.

Luck of the f***ing draw,

as people use to say.

Do you have any problems with her?

- No.

Maybe some problems

like in any marriage.

True.

But there are big problems,

and small problems.

Until a few days ago, I've had...

...a perfect marriage. You know?

We have never said a

harsh word, to each other.

And then, she started to bring

some stray dogs in the house.

Some ugly stray dogs, you know...

And I don't like dogs.

F***ing dogs!

And yesterday, I just snapped.

I picked up my things and left.

Not just because of it, but...

I was just fed up.

And I left for good.

It doesn't have to be so serious.

You get angry and leave.

Then you get over it and you return.

I'm not that kind of a man.

My father thought me:

"When you leave, don't come back."

So I did it.

End of story.

Don't misunderstand me, but in

those things, I'm a real Serb.

So, that's all I've got to say.

It's your turn now.

Well, I don't have

anything wise to say.

I have only slight problems.

I mean, regarding my marriage.

I like to hear about

those slight problems.

She works a lot.

She complains that she

works too much, huh?

When she complains like that,

than she's not sincere with you.

She doesn't complain.

But I can feel it.

She's always tired.

And she really works too much.

Is she nervous?

-No, she's not.

Amazing how American

women are so nervous.

I've just told you, she's not

nervous. -But you meant she was.

No, I didn't. Why would I mean that?

May I be frank with you? But

don't get angry. -Go ahead.

This conversation is a proof that

I'm a Serb and you are a Muslim.

Don't say... And how's that?

First, by our names.

-Names? -Yeah.

That's a good one.

Second thing... for example...

I speak frankly with you.

I've told you all about my worries

and you keep quite like a stone.

That's a sign who you really are.

Well then, who am I?!

You know very well who you are.

You mean a Muslim?

-Exactly.

That's nonsense and it doesn't

matter. -What does matter, then?

You know what does matter?

-What?

I haven't left my home and

I'm going to pick up my wife.

And I've never have any

problems with my wife!

You've just told that you have

problems. -Me?! -Yes, you!

What if I just didn't want to talk about

it? -What if I didn't want it, as well?

Why did you speak about it, then?

-Because we are human beings!

Is something wrong about it?

I mean, f***!

You want to be accepted as brothers,

but you don't want to accept others.

And then you will ask,

where does the hate come from?

This is why! I've been frank with you,

and you don't say anything about you.

And now you've got

angry like a p*ssy.

Why are you silent?

And I told you in the beginning,

not to get angry.

You told me that you

wouldn't get angry.

I should have expected

this from a Muslim.

If you really want to know,

I am not a Muslim?

Your name is Hasan, and you say you're

not a Muslim. What are you? A Swede?

Look, thank you for everything

and good bye. Drive on.

Please, forgive me.

C'mon, get in the car.

It's freezing out there.

It's cold out there. C'mon.

You're so easily offended,

like some p*ssy.

You know...

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