THE GARDEN OF PARADISE

By Diamara NIZHNIKOVSKAYA

CINEMAREC - as PROD

Animation - Pre-Production 2011


    • Year of production
    • 2011
    • Genres
    • Animation
    • Countries
    • BELARUS
    • Languages
    • ENGLISH, RUSSIAN
    • Budget
    • 10 - 25 M$
    • Duration
    • 90 mn
    • Director(s)
    • Diamara NIZHNIKOVSKAYA
    • Writer(s)
    • Diamara NIZHNIKOVSKAYA
    • Producer(s)
    • Aliaksandr CHEPIK (Cinemarec)
    • Synopsis
    • …There was once a young prince, and like any other king’s son, he had a large collection of remarkable books about all countries and nations, and his queen grandmother was the one to read them to the prince…
      … He soon learnt to read his fascinating books and write tables on a blackboard, and then his grandmother gave him splendid live pictures of the Garden of Paradise and a magic pitcher that she used to burnish herself…
      … Arithmetic, History and Geography would pile up on his table, but the prince kept studying the enchanting images of the Garden of Paradise and had implicit faith in his darling grandmother’s stories.
      The only thing she would never confide in him was how she took hold of the magic pictures, and when he asked, she smiled enigmatically and stroked his head.
      … The globe was spinning before his eyes, tempting him with a variety of countries…
      … And finally he made up his mind to find the answer to that ultimate question about the exact whereabouts of the Garden of Paradise!
      … The prince kissed his sleeping grandmother, tucked his dear globe under his arm and set out on his journey!...
      … Guided by his globe, he had overcome many obstacles and hardships on his way before finally arriving…
      … in a forest, in the cavern of winds, where the austere mother of the winds sat close to a fire stirring boiling broth in a large cauldron with a spray of blossom… waiting for her sons…
      … They were rushing into the cave, bringing with them blizzards and piercing blasts, hot sandstorms and whispers of impenetrable wilds of forests – wonderful stories from all parts of the world…
      … The prince found himself amidst those boisterous narrations…
      … The mother of winds listened to the stories of the sons – the North Wind, the South Wind, the West Wind and the East Wind, sad or delighted, and taught them to tell the good from the evil and warned them against doing mischief…
      …She would punish them for evil deeds…
      - It is the Lord in heaven that prescribes deeds of good and evil, she said popping a waggish son into a sack.
      … The prince was amazed to learn that his queen grandmother was once a guest in the cavern. The North Wind, the eldest brother, had saved her from a carriage buried under an immense avalanche, and brought the young woman into the cave, where his mother took care of those her reckless son involuntarily hurt.
      … Years and human ingratitude never erased the beautiful image of the young lady from the gusty head of the North Wind, and the wonder-working “thank you” had melted his stone of ice – hailstones were turning into rain before disappearing in his mother’s fire…
      … It was the mother of the winds that gave the young queen grandmother the amazing pictures of the Garden of Paradise and the magic pitcher…
      … It was she, a young nymph then, the ancestress of the winds, that rested ashore a surging sea near the mighty paws of sphinx… ascended to the highest mountain peaks… dispelled fogs and poisonous vapors above the young Earth… accompanied ships to new continents…
      … It was on her wings that the pollen of the marvelous garden, God’s own garden that he named the Garden of Paradise, was spread all around the globe ...
      … there were other deeds … pure magic – she wedded and divorced continents, routed sea and ocean streams…
      … And the wind-sons she gave the Earth!...
      - It was a charming flippant youth!
      … Her transparent wings were now hanging folded on the wall of the cavern, and she touched them with her strong arms once in a while…
      … The weathered globe was lying idle in the corner of the cave…
      … The East Wind was driving the white flock of clouds, and prince was resting comfortably on one of them.
      They were making their way towards the Garden of Paradise where the East Wind paid his visits every hundred years…
      … The prince was not in the least surprised by the radiance of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, and neither was he alerted that the splendor of the Garden of Paradise met him like a long-lost friend… for it was the magic garden that he knew oh so well from the live pictures and tales of his grandmother…
      … he was mesmerized by beauty of the Fairy Queen, whom the East Wind for some reason called Princess – he must have known her as a princess a hundred or two hundred years before!
      … He was struck by the moving images on the panes of glass – they showed all that had ever happened in the world and what would happen – reminiscences such as only time and divination could produce!
      - It’s too bad people on Earth are incapable of making such things, the prince said sadly.
      - They will learn, the fairy smiled. – In a hundred years or more they will call it a daguerreotype, then photograph, then booths with moving pictures, and finally, cinematography… It is as simple as that!
      - But so distant…
      - Everything in its own time, the fairy smiled again.
      - Unless they enrage the Maker, the East Wind shook his wings formidably. – That’s what my mother says!
      - You were dreaming of voyages every time you looked at your favorite globe?... Look – she offered him her hand…
      … Reflected in the still mirror of the water, countries of the world were gliding before the prince and the fairy, resting in a boat…
      … Swans floated on the water, and exotic trees bent and withdrew their drooping branches …
      - Will people… on Earth… ever… be able… to travel like this?...
      - Yes… some day they will,… but they will name it differently…
      - Unless they enrage the Maker, the East Wind roared again.
      … Delighted, the prince asked the fairy to stay in the Garden of Paradise forever…
      … The fairy agreed, but warned him about what is forbidden, a pledge, a vow that he will have to keep…
      … Otherwise the Garden of Paradise will disappear for centuries, and sorrow and woe will be his future lot…
      … But despite his true willingness to obey, the prince did not manage to act as he had been told…
      … Hypnotized by the transcendent beauty of the ball in the tulip hall he followed her call, her beckoning hand… which he had been forbidden to do!...
      … The path, covered in rose petals, and then in gems, led him to the perilous shine of the tree of knowledge… which he had promised not to approach!...
      … And there he stooped and kissed the tears trembling out of the fairy’s beautiful eyelashes… which he had vowed not to do!...
      … And all around him fell into ruin! Disappeared!... And snow, hail and rain rattled on him!...
      … And again he found himself in the same forest, in the same cavern, and saw the mother of the winds standing in front of him and rebuking him for his misdeed in the Garden of Paradise…
      … But how dauntlessly she fought Death – the black old man, with large black wings, and a scythe in his hand, who had come to take the prince!... She slung him out of the cave promising him quick imminent death from his own wicked work! And people on earth finally heaved a sigh of relief with his rusty scythe out of sight!
      … And again the prince was in the center of a violent storm, as all winds coming from the North, South, West and East, filled the cave with thunder and lightening, blizzard and sandstorm, and mild wafts of the Garden of Paradise…
      … It was the mother of the winds that gathered her sons only to bid them farewell. Her gusty sons – the uninhibited children of ether – are finally released from her guardianship and will very soon be set…
      … free!
      - Godspeed! Your paths are different, but remember that your home is here, and you are blood brothers!
      … They flew off… her children…
      - Get back… some day… the surly woman whispered… The fire was out… And flowers of various continents in her hands…
      … The prince, with the crown that he had no spirit to wear now pressed to his chest, shoved a couple of billets into the dying fire…
      … And the fire blazed up anew!
      - They shall be back, mother, they shall come back without fail! Even the naughtiest children always find their way back home!
      … And he got back, too… into his room in the palace… back to his books and manuals, the blackboard and moving pictures of the Garden of Paradise…
      … He glued up the battered globe and replaced it on its shelf of honor…
      … His grandmother’s flower garden, peppered in unexpected hailstone, was the only reminder of his extraordinary journey…
      - The North Wind mixed it all up again! Hail in summer – fancy that!
      … He understood then that it was a message to his queen-grandmother from her corky friend, the North Wind…
      … Flower beds glistering in diamonds of melting snowflakes…
      - It is so beautiful!...
      - Almost as in the Garden of Paradise, gasped the prince.
      - Everyone must have his own Garden of Paradise, my child, the queen-grandmother patted her rebellious but inquisitive and unabashed grandson on the head, just like years before.
      Prince:
      - Don’t you ever forget, my friends, that the fairy-tale always tells the truth.
      The End
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