All language subtitles for tchaikovsky.1969.dvdrip.xvid.imbt.cd1

MOSFILM
presents

a film by

Igor TALANKiN

Tchaikovsky

Screenplay by B. METALNIKOV
Yu. NAGIBlN, l. TALANKlN

Music arrangement by
Dimitri TIOMKIN

Director of Photography
Margarita PILIKHINA

Production Designers
A. BORlSOV, Yu. KLADiENKO

Starring
Innokenty SMOKTU NOVSKY

Mama!

What is it, Pierre? What's the matter?

Oh, that music...
It's inside my head!

What music? There isn't any music.
Be quiet, Petya. Mama's with you.

Part One

Fourteen, fifteen,
sixteen, seventeen...

What are you waiting for?

You gotta stop wiggling about.

You're nothing but a bully, Agafon.
How does your master stand you?

You talk too much.
Sixteen, seventeen...

Wait! Didn't you hear that?
Someone's ringing.

- Don't you mix me up. Seventeen.
- You already said seventeen.

All right then, eighteen.

Good evening, professor.

Good evening.

He's crawling.

Where have you been? Sleeping?

You think anybody can sleep around
here?

When you play cards,
you must play for money.

We haven't got any money... yet.

- What?
- Nothing.

Well, that's not bad. Bravo!

So, magician, how are your
enchantments?

They're coming along.

- And my concerto?
- It's going very well.

That's fine, work! Work!
And you'll find life has gone.

- Were you at the club?
- How on earth did you guess?

I'm just clever, that's all.

I'm not going to disturb you.
I just came by for a moment.

I still have to learn Beethoven.

I see you're in excellent spirits.

I'll tell you all about it later.

Well, show me what you've done.

Nikolai Grigorievich,
I probably can't play it because...

What is it, Kolia?

What's so funny?

You'll never guess what happened
at the club.

I'd been dealt three queens and
a knave.

I was bluffing.

And the prince was losing.

So I pushed my luck a little more,
and he was losing again.

Sorry for having distracted you.
Now I�m ready.

Nikolai Grigorievich!

I can't play this for you.
This piece needs your hands.

Please.

Very well.

Is that right?

Don't be ridiculous.

It's very nice.

Cadenza?

- This won't do at all.
- Why?

It's much too difficult.

Why the divergent octaves, when
the parallel ones are much easier?

There... that's much simpler.

How can you speak of simplicity?
This is music!

But think of those who're going to
play this brilliant music of yours.

- But you just played it.
- I Thank you very much.

In deed I have, but that's me.
The others will break their fingers.

Petya, you must adapt it,
using parallel octaves.

I don't want to!

You don't want me to play
your first concerto?

No. I don't want to adapt it.

Well, I will not play it this way.

As you wish.
Someone else will play it.

Someone else? You'll never get
any other artist to play it.

It's not the way to write music
for the pianists.

My music is written for the public.
Your public as well.

Why must I compose music
like everybody else composes?

Whether it's good or bad,
I must write music my way.

The way of Tchaikovsky.

And who is Tchaikovsky?

Is he Brahms? Liszt?

Allow me to ask you,
what have you written?

A couple of operas
that were resounding failures?

A dozen pretty songs?

In Russia, every man in the street
writes pretty songs.

Well, why don't you say something?

All right, fine.
Let's be serious.

I'm worried about the reception
your concerto will have.

I don't need any more fame.

Come on, why don't you say something?

You don't want
to speak to me, Petya?

All right. But remember, you'll never
find an artist to play it.

I tell you this. Me, Rubinstein.

What a stupid place
to put a vase! Idiot!

No matter where I put it,
you would have broken it.

This is the way you should
compose, young man!

No rule says I have to.
I can write like this.

The head of the sugar factory,
Count Scepio says

that considering the amount of land
planted in sugar beets

you can again expect a deficit
of two hundred thousand rubles.

I've had enough of
this "Count Swindler".

The twelve in the corner.

You can tell him that his services
will no longer be required.

From the Chancellor of his Majesty's
Financial Ministry.

A refusal by the government to buy
the Lyubavo-Romensk roadway.

The stupidity of the government
amazes me.

Mister Pahulsky to see you.

What is your full name,
Mister Pahulsky?

- Vladislav Albertovich.
- My daughter, Julia.

- Your bags are in the carriage?
- My baggage is with me.

I will go over the conditions again.

In addition to playing in my trio,
you will have some other duties.

You will read aloud to me,
play croquet and billiards with me,

accompany us
when we walk.

The salary is 100 rubles a month
and your board and room.

And if we are compatible,
there will be trips abroad

which should be interesting for you
since you're a cultivated man.

Send this to the bank
and have the carriage brought around.

Do these conditions suit you?

You're much too kind, Madame.

How could that conservatory tyrant,
Mister Rubinstein, let you go?

Nikolai Grigorievich is sending
his regards.

Is that all? I don't believe you.

He told me I might do as I wished.

Though he added he wasn't advising me
to accept this position

because it's boring to do a job
that one doesn't wish to do

and not to be able to do
what you want.

Have you ever seen any position

in which you could always do exactly
what you wanted to do?

July, please see if they have
prepared the room for Mr. Pahulsky.

Of course, mother.

I'll hear you play this evening
when I return.

By the way, with whom
have you studied?

The violin with Professor Grzhymali
and composition with Tchaikovsky.

I wish you to play some Tchaikovsky
tonight.

Mesdames, Messieurs...

I'm very moved

to be once again in Moscow.

I will never forget
the magnificent Moscow audiences.

I would like to sing for you now
a song by Monsieur Tchaikovsky.

Madame von Meck's carriage!

What prevented them
from uniting their two lives?

I'm not sure if it's true,

but I've heard that the marriage was
prevented by Nikolai Grigorievich.

Does he have such enormous
influence over Mister Tchaikovsky?

All Moscow's music life
is under his domination,

and Pyotr Ilyich and he
are great friends.

Desiree certainly looks much older,
don't you think?

What a voice!
It's truly extraordinary!

Her voice, yes.

But to think that you'd have trailed
behind that voice all over Europe!

We've al ready had enough with
Turgenev and his Madame Viardot.

Our grandchildren will thank me

for having saved, for Russia,
the composer Tchaikovsky.

In the meantime you may thank me.

Without me, you'd be now in the place
of her husband, Padilla, poor idiot.

Go on, thank me.

- Thank you.
- Don't mention it.

Stop here.

What's wrong?

You'd better go on alone to the club.

No, I won't let you go home now.

Let me be! I'm a grown-up man,
for heaven's sake.

Will you please let me run
my own life!

Right now I would like to be alone,
with my troubles.

Petya!

Alyosha!

Wake up!
Please, come and sit with me.

I'm frightened.

I'm alright now...
You can go back to bed.

Gentlemen!
He can go to the devil, this Cui.

Come and see
what Laroche has written.

"'Swan Lake', as the other works
of the composer Tchaikovsky,

reveals his customary
deficiency to us once again.

This is the poverty of his creative
imagination

resulting in monotonous
themes and melodies."

To the devil with Laroche!
And he calls himself his friend.

Why, this theme alone is worth
any in the world...

- Good afternoon, Professor.
- Good afternoon.

I'm very flattered to see
that you remember me.

Oh yes, of course. What are you
doing now? Where are you?

Circumstances did not allow me
to finish my studies

and I've been forced to accept
a position with Madame von Meck.

Oh, von Meck...

For whom I've done a piano
arrangement of "The Opritchnik"?

Yes, that's the one.

Then perhaps... you know
why she hasn't...

Oh, a check. It's just in time.

I really must confess
I was beginning to think...

- Albert...
- Vladislav Albertovich.

Is she originally German, von Meck?

That's the name of her late husband.
Her maiden name was Frolovskaya.

Are you sure there hasn't been
a mistake?

This is a great deal of money.

This is the reason Nadezhda
Filaretovna preferred not to mail it

but ask me to deliver it
in person.

Believe me, it's not simply a whim
of a rich patroness,

but the appreciation of someone
who truly respects your work.

Your name's spoken in her house
with enormous respect and love.

Your music's considered above any
music that's been written in Russia.

If I have the good fortune to be in
the confidence of the Baroness,

I owe it purely to the fact that
I once had the happy circumstance

of being one of your pupils.

She often asks me questions about
your life, your habits.

She is interested in everything
about you.

Why?

Nadezhda Filaretovna wishes me
to bring back a photograph of you.

Would you be so kind
as to sign it for her.

My photograph?

"Dear Nadezhda Filaretovna!

I wish to thank you

for the more than generous
compensation for the work so modest.

It's very comforting for a musician
who's faced obstacles and reversals

to know that there exist
a few people,

of whom you are one,

who genuinely and warmly
appreciate your work.

May I assure you of my sincere and
respectful devotion. P. Tchaikovsky. "

Alyosha, have you ever read
Pushkin's "Eugene Onegin"?

Of course I've read it.

- What's it about?
- It's about this unhappy love affair.

Tell me the story.

A master has a couple of daughters,
they're Tatiana and Olga.

One laughs a whole lot,
it's easy to make her laugh.

It's because of her
that he kills him I think.

Who kills? Kills who?

Eugene Oneginkil Is the other man...

I don't remember his name.

And she takes her very best pen
and writes to him.

Who... she?

Tatiana. She's mad about him.

She writes him, I love you.
I'll never love anybody else.

- And him?
- Who?

Eugene Onegin. Alyosha!

Are you asleep again?

Why asleep? I' m just trying
to remember.

He's real funny.

He's always saying "Three cards"...
Then the poor man starts to drink.

Do you like it?

Especially when it's quiet.

It's nice.
It's so sad and beautiful.

Because when it gets loud, Nikolai
Grigorievich plays better than you.

And which part do you like best?
Which passage?

Ah... there...

Sing it for me.

Well, let's see...
You tempter... so treacherous...

I'm glad you like my music.

With your ear for music,
you should have been a music critic.

- Whatever you want.
- Let's go to lunch.

- What have you got there?
- A letter for you.

- From the Baroness von Meck?
- No, someone called Miliukova.

Who's she? Do we owe her money?

I don't think so.
It smells of perfume.

Well, read it.
I was so worried for a second.

"My dear Pyotr Ilyich.

I know it's not proper,
for a girl to write a man first.

But I cannot live without you.
I realize that I love you

in a way I've never loved anyone... "

It could be a letter from Tatiana
to Onegin.

"When I was at the Conservatory,
learning to play the piano,

I admired you even then, but I never
would have dared approach you."

She must be a hunchback or ugly.

"I die of sorrow, longing
to see you..."

I wonder what she really looks like?

"... I die of desire to be near
you, to speak to you.

I can not live without you which is
perhaps why I may kill myself. "

Oh Lord!

"Will you let me see you?
May I kiss you just once,

so that I might have that memory
to carry into death! "

What foolishness.
Why have you brought me here?

Just what is this whole thing
all about anyway?

We'll just watch her from
the carriage, that's all.

Well, where is she then?

I'm surprised myself. She sleeps
only two hours after lunch.

Her mother lives with her.
They have a little country house,

some land and woods around it.
They'd be happy to sell it.

- Let's leave.
- Oh, please wait.

They must be some of those
terrorists.

They're looking for a place
to plant a bomb.

There she is... She's coming.

- Where is she? Here?
- No. Over there.

Alyosha, will you let me have a look?
Move aside.

But she's carrying a parasol.
I can't see her face at all.

Believe me, she's got a face.
She has everything else too.

Tell the coach man to follow her.

Halt!

Didn't you hear me say halt?
Where are you going?

Don't move!
You're under arrest!

So you maintain
that you hired a carriage

and drove to the Second
Koroviy Street in order to...

What did you say a minute ago?

In order to watch
a certain young person

who is the object of the tender
affections of one of my friends.

One of your friends...
A certain young person...

And then the bomb will explode!
Tell me the truth.

- All right. It's I!
- What do you mean? I?

I mean, the friend.

Whose friend are you?
What's the name?

Tchaikovsky, Pyotr Ilyich.

But a minute ago you said
that was your name.

Please, my God!..

I'm going to send you over
to the district headquarters.

They know what to do with your kind.

It was me who wanted to see
this young person.

What person?

For me, it was very important,
believe me.

Yes, we'll admit that.

And that you're a professor
at Moscow's Conservatory,

that's the truth, too. Yes?

Yes, of course.

That doesn't connect.

What do you mean?

If I may make my report, sir.

This man is who he says he is,
Professor Tchaikovsky.

You see. And you took me for
the devil knows who.

I'm sorry, Professor,
just put yourself in my place, sir.

These are pretty terrible times. It's
impossible to tell by just looking.

Those revolutionaries come from
the best families and the students.

In a word, the nobility.

Do you really think
I look like a revolutionary?

THE FOURTH SYMPHONY

"Dedicated to my best friend.

I know, Nadezhda Filaretovna,

that you would never consent to
having a work dedicated to you.

If it would displease you to see your
name in the symphony's dedication,

I can simply write
'Dedicated to my best friend '.

Thus it will be only you and I

who know to whom the symphony
is dedicated.

I also wish to tell you that,

quite unexpectedly for me,
I find myself married.

I cannot tell you precisely
whether or not I am happy,

but, as God is my witness,
I am full of the best intentions

towards my life companion. "

Good afternoon, Vladislav Albertovich.
How was your journey?

Excellent. I have an absolutely
astonishing piece of news for you.

- Pyotr Ilyich is married.
- Yes, I know.

Everybody in Moscow is simply
astounded.

Pyotr Ilyich told nobody,
not even Rubinstein.

Only one of his brothers
was invited to the wedding.

And nobody knows where
the young couple went afterwards.

I'm sorry. I would have liked
to present my congratulations.

And what kind of a woman
is his wife?

The only thing anybody knows is
that she studied at the Conservatory.

Professor Languiere
hardly remembers her.

He says, pardon, that she's stupid.

Of course, you were only too willing
to believe him.

What makes you think Languiere is
more intelligent than Pyotr Ilyich?

Why couldn't Pyotr Ilyich,
with his sensitive perception,

be capable of discerning
a refined and spiritual nature?

You astonish me very much.

I'm sorry, but I only repeated
what many are saying.

Never repeat gossip to me!

Intelligence is not the most important
thing in a woman.

If she really loves
Pyotr Ilyich sincerely,

if she can bring him tranquility,

all of us should be happy for him.

Petya!

Stop!

Oh, my Lord!

Is that the way you hold the woman
you adore?

This is the triumph of your love!
It's a happy ending!

What are you doing?

We'll run through it again.
All ready?

What' s that?

Petya!

Where have you been?

- Hello, Kolia.
- Hello.

Excuse me, will you?

This is a lie!

Pushkin was right.
There cannot be a happy end.

There cannot be!

Pyotr Ilyich, let's go home.

Antonina Ivanovna will be worried.

Never pronounce that name
in my presence!

Do you hear? Never!

That's just the wine talking.

Oh God, why do you drink so much?

Don't touch me!

Pyotr Ilyich, please,
let's go home.

Stop following me!

Stop it or I'll beat you.

Here we are.

Ladies and gentlemen! The newlyweds!

At last!

May I present my wife.

Pyotr Petrovich.

How do you do.

May I present Mister Laroche.

How are you?

Kashkin.

My very best wishes!

We have come here again,

Dear ladies and gentlemen,

Look how fair she is and bright.

What a wonderful moment!

You now, Petya, are a man!

Show us your beautiful bride.

You're a rose, you're a rose,

You're a rose, belle Antonina...

Petya! Why aren't you eating?

I'm afraid my stomach will be upset.

May I give you one more?

Do you like pastries?

Antonina Ivanovna loves pastries.

Why have you given up
your music?

Antonina Ivanovna is not sure
of her musical skills,

and she won't settle
for second rate.

Very wise.

That's right, gentlemen, you know...

I'd like to propose a toast to
the hosts who've been so kind to us.

Thank you, Pyotr Ilyich!
Antonina Ivanovna!

What do you think of
Antonina Ivanovna?

Well, she's very nice...

I never thought Pyotr Ilyich was
as clever as that.

Why do you give my Petya
such awful reviews?

Petya, my congratulations!

I won't any more.

May I ask you what kind of music
pleases you the most?

All music.

Of course I like Petya's the best,
but I like other kinds too.

The one I prefer among the new things
is "The Little Tiger".

Perfectly sweet, isn't it?

Stop it. That hurts!

What are you laughing about?

Petya was trying...

to kick me under the table,
but instead he kicked Laroche.

Ladies and gentlemen!
Your attention, please.

Your attention, please.
I would like to propose a toast now.

For a long time we have known,
respected and loved our Pyotr Ilyich.

But how can one compare what we feel
towards him with the love

given to Pyotr Ilyich

by the adorable Antonina Ivanovna.

And may this love

be a new creative inspiration
for him.

And may the harmony of their hearts

create new harmonies in music,
music...

which will... which...

Pyotr Ilyich!

I'm coming. Who the devil can it be
at this hour of the night?

Never get any peace around here.

My God! What's happened?

Agafon! Get Nikolai Grigorievich!

Nikolai Grigorievich!

Oh, God!
Oh, it's so bad!

God will punish you...

I'm a fool.
I didn't watch him close enough.

Petya! What's happened?

I won't go back there.

Agafon, brandy, quick!
You better get the doctor!

Petya...