The Pier of Apolonovka is a film about a summer on the jetty, from the first day of the holidays to the last. I call them albatrosses, these boys and girls on the quay of the Sevastopol Bay. The Sevastopol albatrosses are a symbol of the inextricable dilemma in which the city finds itself: A city too impoverished for splendor and glory, and much too alive for the scrap-heap. At some point, the young and old albatrosses took us home with them and showed us their Korabelnaja, the once famous shipyard workers' neighborhood. There socialist pathos has now yielded to dusty reverie. We soon recognized that many of the residents there were failed, reconciled or defiant albatrosses. They still have one thing in common: Sooner or later their paths meet on the quay. The harbor is the most important stage. For the children, leaps from the concrete ledge are something like first initiation rites. A little further on, the pier is a stage for their parents' after-work dreams.