. . Wherever you come from. . . The film appeared, as if from nowhere - as if there was no director Mikhail Kalik, who shot his poetic paintings in the USSR, in a complex atmosphere of rejection. The film has no sequels - Kalik in Israel did not shoot any more ... and in general, in fact, did not shoot any more. Maybe who knows why? ... The film didn’t work out – some shots, some people, some relationships. You don’t have any involvement with anyone, just like the characters of the film – each of them for himself. There is no love in the film, only animal passion and, even worse, just animal reflexes. Only at the very end, when a person’s life ends under half a tin, something crept inside. But when you realize that he committed suicide because of the loss of his animal passion, in fact, because of the loss of his egoism, you are left with emptiness instead of experience. Yes, everything happens in life, but in the film it all looks somehow conditional, somehow contrived, somehow pseudo. That it is a different soil, a different aura, a different state, when there are no more obstacles and prohibitions, when there is no need to overcome anything else. Why, having emigrated, did director Kalik end? For viewing there was another, the last film of the director, shot 17 years later - ' And the wind returns...' (1991), Soviet-American production. . .