We Are Basca presents
MY NAME IS COSTIN
Based on a true story
Son, remember what you told uncle Virgil, when he visited?
I told him that I'm not Rares.
Uncle Virgil wants to know everything that happened.
Look, you either tell him everything you know, about Toni and the rest,
or we never mention it again. Got it?
Rares, you can trust me. Okay?
My name is Costin Dumitru. I was 37 when I was killed.
It happened at night. Mister Miticêa, our neighbour,
hit me with a shovel, then buried me behind the school.
Do you remember the name of the school?
It's the big, old building just outside of town.
-Outside Bucharest? -No, outside Vizuresti.
Don't tell me we're going all the way to Vizuresti.
I can take him.
-Oh, really? -Really.
Here.
Son, are you sure?
Don't make us dig for nothing, okay?
Hey, should we dig some more?
Listen, I believe you. But without the body, it's no use.
-People will think you're a liar. -I'm not a liar.
Then, how do you know about the body?
You don't want to tell me?
-Why did you make us dig here? -That's where the body is.
Are you sure?
I'll ask my colleagues to take over.
Great.
-So, back to Bucharest? -Yes. Come on, baby.
I want my mother.
-What? -I want to see my mother.
Rares, darling, I am your mother.
My mother lives on 19 Muresanu Street. It's a house with a green fence.
Hello. Mrs Dumitru?
-Who are you looking for? -It's a bit complicated.
Do you have a son by the name of Costin Dumitru,
reported missing a few years ago?
Why do you ask?
As I was saying, it's complicated.
You replaced the fence. Before, there was a green one.
You replaced it to keep Fifi from escaping. Where's Fifi? Dead?
Who are you? What do you want from me?
Toni's dead, mom. He died last year, in June.
A car hit him, in Padova.
That's why he stopped calling. He died.
He's not my Rares.
Don't you start now!
Andrei, I don't understand what the hell is happening here.
Do you?
-Let's be rational... -How does he know all these things?
Why did that woman start crying when he called her 'mom' ?
-Where could he have heard all this? -I don't know.
Maybe there's a kid at kindergarten
and they have grandparents in Vizuresti.
Maybe they came here on vacation, and then told the other kids.
You know kids, they make up stories.
So, you're telling me that we're here now
because Rares heard some story at kindergarten?
I don't know, I'm just guessing.
I took a day off from work, we came here, got rained on,
started digging and investigating, all because of what?
-Your cousin dragged us here. -Keep him out of this.
Why should I? Coming here was his idea.
You're clueless.
-We're going back to Bucharest. -That's your solution?
Instead of searching for a logical explanation...
I don't want to hear it! I'm fed up with all this!
Virgil, we're going back to Bucharest. If you want to stay, it's up to you.
I got a call from the local Police. They found the body.
What body?
In the spot where Rares took us, they found a body.
If we had kept digging, we would have found it.
What the hell is happening? Will someone explain?
You want an explanation? Well, I don't have one. No one has.
All I know is that, somehow, your son knew about this murder.
I don't know how, but Rares led us right to Costin Dumitru's mother.
By the way, the fence was green. The woman had it painted red.
-I don't give a shit about the fence! -Crina!
You're really quiet. Aren't you hungry or thirsty?
-Is the school on our way back? -It is.
We'll stop by, five minutes, then straight back to Bucharest.
Hello, sir! Lieutenant Cârstea, we spoke on the phone earlier.
Everything was exactly like you stated.
-The kid stated, not me. -What kid?
Miticêa did it.
Miticêa who?
Miticêa Pâslaru. He lives on the street next to the church.
How do you know about that?