Tears for Sale

Synopsis: Story of two sisters that grew up in a small Serbian village in the beginning of the 1930s. The village is torn up by wars and years long blood oath. There are no men left in the village. Our heroines, Ognjenka and Mala Boginja decide to go to the city, kidnap men and return life to their village. The lights of the metropolis dazzle them and there starts this little amusing and sentimental adventure.
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Fantasy
Director(s): Uros Stojanovic
  1 win & 2 nominations.
86 min

Hey you mists, thick mists

where are you rushing to so harshly?

Fly back to the south

Bring my love to my darling.

To my darling, to your friend.

A film by Uros Stojanovic

During the World War I, Serbia had lost two thirds of the male population.

The women stayed, to start a new life, the best they can.

This is their story.

This is a sea star.

That little creature lives only in seas, and here in Boginja's pond.

[Boginja = Godess]

Probably because the sea is salty and bitter, just like tears.

There is also a graveyard at the pond.

The biggest and the most beautiful graveyard on the mountain.

This is where Ognjenka and Little Boginja spent the carefree

days of their childhood and youth.

While the dead enjoyed the beautiful carefree days

of their death.

[Ognjenka = Fiery]

What are you doing?!

Have you gone mad?

How many times must I tell you

this pond is cursed!

You're saying I shouldn't wash myself

because it's cursed? Right!

Little Boginja doesn't believe in witchcraft, but

no matter if you believe in them - they believe in you.

Her sister, Ognjenka, knows well that it's bad to bathe

in their great-grandmother's tears.

The Great-Grandmother cried out that pond when her husband

didn't come home from the war.

She was crying for eight days and eight nights.

Than the Great-Grandmother realised it was enough.

And she swore that from that day on her heart will be tough like stone.

Since crying was all she knew to do, she became a wailer.

The best on the mountain.

Wailers are women who cry at funerals, and do it

much better and more beautiful than the widows themselves.

And that is a gift which is always well-paid on this mountain.

And so, from war to war, from generation to generation, this became

a family business.

Here in the village, if a boy as tall as a rifle, he's ready for the front.

There were more and more wars,

and rifles were becoming shorter and shorter.

Then dark days came for the wailers, too.

Fewer men - fewer customers.

And without customers tears aren't worth a penny.

In 1918. the number went down to two.

Only Ozren and Jordan came back from the war.

But they too quickly joined the majority.

First who diead was Ozren.

Some say the drunk fool crushed himself.

Some say Jordan the caplar killed him,

because of his wife.

Some even say his wife killed him,

because of Jordan the caplar.

Then Jordan realised what he has got into.

He knew he couldn't defend the whole village full of women

by himself.

That's why he set up a minefield in the vineyard.

He never marked down the position of the mines.

He was afraid that such paper could come into hands of future enemies.

But he never needed it. He had a photographic memory.

While he was flying through the sky, Jordan was

proud of himself and his mine field.

But he forgot that you can't sell shrapnels or

make brandy out of bullets.

Vineyard, which supported the whole village, was now left

covered in mines.

That's how Vineyard became Mineyard.

Now, the vineyard had to be picked. There's

no escaping, you pick a straw... and may god help you.

Sometimes they survive.


What are you looking at, I'd rather be cursed than

dirty, like you!

Hi Nada. -Hi.

[Nada = Hope]

Can I order a crying?

And who's the customer?... I mean the deceased.

I am.

I'm going to the Mineyard. So I thought I might

pay in advance. For God forbid!

Just to tell you there's no money-back if you survive.

Well, actually, it's not wasted,

I'll write you up, so you can die whenever you want.


You know the prices: Average crying is 30 dinars. Hair pulling

and face scratching without blood is 15 dinars more...

-Too much! -Well, if you're gonna save on your own death

you can get wailers in Srbozje for 10 dinars.

But they scream like slaughtered pigs.

Ognjenka and I sing like angels.

I'm not giving a penny until you show me that 'singing like angels'.

Then I can die.


What's wrong? -Ognjenka is slacking off.

-Not true... -Come on Nada, she's screaming like she's

being torn alive.

Screaming, screaming... And tears?

But she's looking at me! How can I cry when she's still alive and looking at me?

Lie down Nada, like you will tomorrow. Take this and rub your eyes!


And think of something sad like we practiced.

Let's try again:
3, 4, now!

Sad, sad, sad, think sad, something sad, sad, sad... A-ha, there's

the thing that happend to Sanja.

[Sanja = Dreamy]

Your n... Are you crying already, Ognjenka?

Try now.

I just can't.

Listen now, Ognjenka, to help you...

You're gonna be 22 this autumn, a real grandma-girl.

Because you were never loved.

And the way things are now, you probably never will.

In a few years you're completely gonna wither.

And everyone is gonna greet you with "Good day grandma Ognjenka!"

But you won't be anyone's grandma.

Because you were never loved. But old.

And you're gonna be 21... And that's also grandmagirl.


That's right. I know that. That's why I can cry whenever I want.

Let's go:
3, 4, now!

...Your dark, never kissed eyes...


It's great. Just without the 'dark, never kissed eyes'.

Well, they are pretty dark...

But they were kissed!

I've been kissed... by a man.

Mouth to mouth.

You're lying, Nadica!

Mouth to mouth..? -Let me show you.

Coward! -I'm not a coward!


Who taught you that? -Does it matter? A man is a man.

Don't you tell me 'a man is a man', who kissed you like that?

With grandpa Bisa. -Yuck! With grandpa Bisa?!

So what? Should I die as grandmagirl instead?

Grandpa Bisa...

The last man on the mountain.

Nobody really thought of him as a real man. Until all the others died.

But still, any man capable of loving is a man.

And? Can you do anything with him? -I'm not sure...

Just don't expect miracles, I'm just an ordinary witch.

Grandpa Bisa...

You're the greatest man who ever lay in bed.

You are the source of life, happiness and youth, for all us women

here in Pokrp!

Infertile sloth!

...One cries from morning till noon...

...The other cries from noon till evening...

Enough with this funeral sh*t!

Really, enough about crying. -There must be one...

I'm paying you to amuse the guests, Ratija, not to

remind them why they are drinking!

I don't give a damn about your guests! I don't know any other

songs anyway.

Enough. -Come on, I know so many cheerful songs, there's one...

Zagorka, I think it goes like: "Blossomed flowers..."

-"...On my Dika's grave."? That one's not very cheerful either.

I know the song! There is one cheerful, how it goes....

Yeah, yeah, there is one....

Ah well, let's go on with the funeral songs. Just a bit faster.

There, for Nadica's soul...

Give me a drink. It's my soul after all.

Don't you give me that crap. You don't die every day.

Give me spider brandy.

Spider brandy! -Spider brandy!

Spider brandy!

Pour the spider brandy! Give it!

Zagorka, please don't.

Come on, Ognjenka, don't say that. It's for Nada's soul,

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Batric Nenezic

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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