The film is a unique tribute of the director to his master. The space is empty, in the sense, there are no people there, but the items live their peculiar life until the rooster cries out. And that is be the rooster Parajanov made, God knows of what kind of improvised material at hand. It feels like the wind is a night walker here and it turns over the pages of the books. Glass breaking can be heard. The good thing is there are enough collages made of phials and luxurious tableware set fragments. The dolls sit on the frames, letting their legs hang, just like they do in daytime, but something mystical, something fateful appears in them. And Parajanov is close, built-into some other life, in epaulets or even with the people of past epochs. The lamps are switched on, even the oil stoves – everything is the way Parajanov liked. But then it is daybreak already, the rooms are filled with sunlight, and everything changes.

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