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It's possible to be completely
mesmerized by the sea.

It's an unusual, frightening feeling,

like losing your mind
and leaving your body.

I was 17, at music school.

They called me a genius,
but then the sea came for me.

I became deeply, deeply, depressed.

Papa came and took me home.

What can we do, we've got to live.

We shall live, Uncle Vanya.

We shall live out many,
many days and long evenings.

We shall patiently bear
the trials fate sends us.

I'll never be happy, Papa.

Ssh, don't talk like that.

I believe...

I believe...

But I was right.

I was broken beyond repair.

One day the sea will
come back again for me.

To complete our evening,

Sofija Kymantaite will briefly
conclude her discussion

on Lithuanian culture. Please proceed.

Please forgive me gentlemen,
but I will not speak Polish.

I insist on using the language
of my fatherland.

Open your eyes,

Lithuania's culture is dying
murdered right in front of our eyes,

yet we stand aside and do nothing.

We must revive it,
nurture it, love it like a child.

We've sacrificed our native
tongue to speak Russian and Polish

the language of our oppressors.

I do not believe that those present here

are happy to see our
language perish and die?

How you can possibly compare
the language of Lithuania

with Russian and Polish?

No, how can you possibly compare
Russian or Polish to our language?

A language that's been
traced back to Sanskrit,

one of the world's oldest
and most sophisticated.

Lithuanian's the language of the peasant.

There's no shame in being a peasant.

I am a peasant, my father is a peasant.

Until he became the church organist,

my Papa worked the land.

Now he's lost his job because the priest
wanted him to speak Polish.

So again he works the land.

Sofija Leonovna,
allow me to introduce myself...

- Nikolai Sergeivich...
- I know who you are.

Let me assure you, we will always
find a place for Lithuanian culture.

But Russian will remain
the dominant language,

the language of your Emperor, the Czar.

As we say in Russia,

English... for science,

French for love,

Russian for everything.

Mikalojus Konstantinas Ciurlionis.
Nice to meet you.

Sofija Leonovna,

could you possibly help this
peasant improve his Lithuanian?

You're the artist, aren't you?

Didn't your father teach you?

He was a very good teacher.

He tried, but I was a poor student.
I can manage a few words...

You have such beautiful eyes.

Come now, Mikalojus Konstantinas,
you can do better than that.

What about, I think I'm in love with you.

You have rather a poor vocabulary,
of limited value.

In the right circumstances
it can be very valuable.

It wouldn't be very
useful at the meat market.

Only a fool would look
for love at the meat market.

If you're really serious, I'll help.

Please call me Kastytis.

But didn't you say Mikalojus?

And I could call you Jurate,
Queen of the Baltic.

I see.

You can't speak any sensible Lithuanian,
but you can tell fairy tales.

It's not a fairy tale,
it's a story of forbidden love.

Don't tell me you believe Jurate
could ever love a mere fisherman?

And don't tell me you believe we can
actually choose who we fall in love with?

You must excuse me, I have to go now.

Sofija, the story of Kastytis and Jurate
would make a wonderful opera.

- Opera?
- We should write it together.

I could compose some music,
you could write the libretto.

A fantastical underwater world,
voices of mermaids.

I think it would be a masterpiece.

I really need to go.

Sofija, while you walk home,
look up at the stars.

Why?

To see our destiny.

I really must go.

And I must begin our opera.

So, dad, how's it going to be?

You speak perfect Polish, you could have
made a deal with the priest.

We are Lithuanians and
we should speak Lithuanian.

Sure, I understand you deep in my heart.

Of course money's going to be tight.

Well I will help.

I'll give more lessons.

Somehow we'll do it together.

Maybe.

Let's have some tea.
Juzefa, bring the cups.

- Juzefa, you're beautiful.
- Thank you.

So, who's this Sofija?

Is it a serious relationship?

For me, yes. For her, I doubt it.

But Mama, there're more
important things to think about.

Maybe, but you still need a wife.

Someone has to take care of you.

You can't.

Remember when you
taught me the bird songs?

My first music lessons.

You told me to count how
many times the cuckoo sang,

then I'd know how many years I'd live.

Thirty five.

It's just a story I made up
when you were young.

Sofija, I apologize for this uninvited
letter.

But I'm painting in such a frenzy
and can't stop.

I'll miss my first lesson.
I'm very sorry.

I've been working for
more than 10 hours a day.

I'm now working on some
astrological paintings.

The one I'm finishing reminds me of you.

Virgo the virgin,
the symbol of the harvest.

Such is my desire to paint I wake at 5,
and sometimes even earlier.

I've no idea where time goes
and I am travelling

distant horizons of my imaginary world,

and even if this world seems
puzzling for some, I feel happy in it.

He brought the clock which was broken,
so they started to fix it.

They worked and worked and worked,
but they couldn't fix it.

So the old man went to sleep
and he was worried.

At last Jurate's come to lift my gloom.

No, I'm here to teach you
your mother tongue.

Before you arrived the bird
of depression had descended,

and now it's flown away.

Shall we begin?

What have you learned this week?

I've loved you from the first moment
I saw you.

You're wasting my time.

Please don't.

I'm sorry, I meant no harm.

Sit down, please.

Have a look.

Before we'd even met you'd already
appeared in my dreams.

Look, you offered me an incredible,
glowing, ball of light.

You have some good books
for a mere peasant.

My favorite is this

Latin-Lithuanian, Lithuanian-Latin
vocabulary of folk medicine names.

So what are you,

composer or painter?

Must it be one or the other?

Sorry, it was a stupid question.

No, it's a question I often ask myself.

But there's no answer.

I can't separate what
I see from what I hear.

When I compose I close my eyes
and see pictures,

and when I paint

I hear various sounds of music
rushing through my head.

I paint music.

I have to go.

I've another appointment.

I assume you'll want to see
the work I've done on our opera?

I've no time.

We've established the
movement of Lithuanian artists.

It is to resurrect folk art.

We're organizing an exhibition.

If you would come, I would be thankful.

I don't think I will have time.

Well, you're obviously not interested
in learning about your own culture.

Maybe I will.

Sofija.

Miss Kymantaite.

Hello, pleasure to meet you.

- You didn't come to the exhibition.
- Sorry, I was busy.

Was it a success?

If you measure success by admiration,
yes.

But measured by the sale of paintings,
then, no. It was dismal.

I'm pleased.

For the admiration, I mean.

If only you knew what
kind of paintings they like,

paintings of churches,
horses, that sort of thing.

- What they call the real world.
- Can't you paint like that?

Yes, but it's more important
for me to be in my world.

Did you have some time
for your homework?

I have, and I've been counting
the minutes until our next lesson.

Until Friday then.

See you.

Who's that?

Oh, an artist I know.

What kind of artist?

A poor kind of artist.

And his name?

Mikalojus Konstantinas Ciurlionis.

Oh, I've heard something
about him, the so-called heretic.

Ridiculous. Just because he's
different he's a heretic. Mama!

He's very different, apparently.

And is he a good friend?

I'm only helping him
improve his Lithuanian.

So you're his teacher?

What else would I be?

At the moment I'm composing an opera

based on the legend
of Jurate and Kastytis.

What you've heard is a choir of mermaids.

Unfortunately, it's without orchestral
and vocal colors.

Later, the mood of music changes
drastically.

Kastytis is in danger.

Perkunas is angry,
he throws balls of light.

The Amber Palace is in ruins.

Thank you, Mikalojus Konstantinas.

Thank you for coming.

Thank you for your time.

I'm sorry I appear to have wasted it.

It's time for us to have a talk.

We cannot print everything.

There are limits to everything.

Yes, but surely we shouldn't be
censoring ourselves?

I don't think you quite understand,

we're trying to find readers,

not get taken out of circulation.

What exactly would you like us to do?

We should be giving more space
to Basanavicius and others

in the Nationalist Movement.

We might as well give the keys
of the building to the Russians

so it would be easier
for them to arrest us all.

You're too involved with Basanavicius.

No, I'm not.

I'm simply a journalist trying to do
my job, to the best of my ability.

No, you're an agitator.
And you're a naive one at that.

At least I believe in something.

Our paper's called Viltis,
for God's sake, hope.

We should be giving at least some hope
to people.

Is that what Dr. Basanavicius is offering?

Hope?

This matter is very delicate
and requires discretion.

You can be assured
that neither my wife nor I

will repeat anything said in confidence.

Could you come to the point?

It's a delicate matter.

Your daughter's journalism and...

How can I put it?

Other activities...

have been brought to my attention.

Please, don't misunderstand.

I'm an admirer,
and have been for quite some time.

In fact,
I recently attended one of her lectures.

So, you admire her oratory?

I think your daughter is both
accomplished and charming.

So, you approve of what she's doing?

Mrs. Kymantiene, I'm a Russian officer.

So, you disapprove?

I suspect you don't think it's for me

to approve or disapprove of
your daughter's views, do you?

Correct.

But surely you're concerned
for her safety?

Sofija's old enough
to have her own opinions

and we're proud she's the courage
to express them.

Madame Kymantiene...

let me get to the point.

It's unwise at this time to incite
anti-Russian feelings.

She's proud of her country.

Russia is also her country.

I'm concerned she might not understand
the consequences of her actions.

Is that a threat?

Of course not. I've nothing but
goodwill towards your daughter.

Captain Rostov,

Sofija's not the only woman in this city

who's proud of her country

and is should we say,

nationalistic.

The question my husband's trying to ask is

why are you so particularly interested
in our daughter?

As I've said...

I'm an admirer.

Perhaps you could invite me to dinner

so that I could become better acquainted?

Or persuade her to make time for me
in some other way?

We've enjoyed meeting you,
Captain Rostov.

Don't look like that!

I want what's best for Sofija.

I want to do the right thing.
It's what's good for her, not us.

- And he isn't good for her?
- Is it for us to say?

Of course it is!

We're her parents for God's sake.

I'd almost given up on you.

You've very little faith.

It's not easy having faith.

So, how is the opera?

I didn't think you were interested.

But, since you have asked,

I can tell you that our opera is actually
progressing very well.

Our?

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Have you composed any of the music?

A little.

I'm getting the story right first,

and designing some of the
costumes and set decoration.

Especially those for the mermaids.

I also know some of the music.

I clearly know how Jurate is going to
sing.

and I have an idea of how the
choir of mermaids is going to sing,

with orchestral colors
and voices of mermaids.

The mermaid choir?

I look forward to hearing them.

Sofija Leonovna.

Turgenev.

Yes. I'm interested in the politics
of the changing Russia,

not so much the emotions,

the differences between the generations,
the fathers and their children.

I'd not imagined you as a
connoisseur of literature.

Yes.

Try me.

What do you mean?

If I'm a connoisseur of literature I must
be able to answer any of your questions.

Oh I see.

Happy families are all alike.

Every unhappy family is unhappy
in its own way.

Too easy, Anna Karenina.

Try harder.

Which character despises all women,
except one?

He's named after a river,

and believes that all life is meaningless.

Indeed, he conquers all the women
he meets

and leaves them all.

But, he has genuine feelings for Vera
who loves him

despite his obvious and unpleasant faults.

And yes, Grigory Alexandrovich Pechorin

was named after the great Pechora River.

So, you see. I'm not just a soldier.

Maybe there's more to me
than you imagined.

And perhaps...

we could spend some time together

so you could learn more
about my reading habits,

Gogol, Dostoevsky, Nekrasov,
Zhukovsky, Pushkin...

Ah, Pushkin.

I thought every Russian
has copies of his work

stitched into their clothes,
near their hearts.

And you have so much to learn too,
Nikolai.

- Yes?
- Yes.

Since you are in Lithuania
you could learn about our authors.

Perhaps you could tell me more?

I don't think so.

Sorry.

I'm already involved with Kastuk.

Kastuk?

Enjoy your politics.

Actually,
I'm reading the passage where Barazov,

the nihilist who thinks
he believes in nothing,

is the victim of unrequited love.

Goodbye Nikolai.

Play for me.

Do you really need it?

Play.

This can't go on. I have to leave.

No one buys my paintings,
no one wants my music.

It might be easier in Saint Petersburg.

How long would you go for?

A month, perhaps.

Then I'll come with you.

I don't think your parents
will like this idea!

I'm not a child anymore.
I have my own money.

I don't need your money.

Kastuk, when we'll get married
we'll share everything.

You'd marry me?

Do you think that people actually choose
those whom they fall in love with?

Now play.

We've immersed ourselves
in this great vision of Peter.

We walk on the Nevsky Prospekt,

or around Peter and Paul's Fortress,

or under Rastrelli's wondrous arches,

and Kastuk delights in pointing out
marvels of symmetry in marble and stone.

I smile Mama, because he sees
with the eyes of an artist,

he feels with the soul of an artist.

But I am just a woman,
with plain eyes and an ordinary heart,

and I see hardship and distress.

Why didn't you wake me up?

The concert is in two days

and I'm afraid that I won't be able
to rewrite everything.

Musicians won't be able
to read my handwriting.

I might make some mistakes.

Look, I had such an incredible dream.

It was like a huge sphere.

You stood at one side,
and this stranger at the other.

Both of you were gently swaying.

He was very thin,
then he lost his balance and he fell.

Then he was kidnapped by some
strange kind of unearthly creature.

It was so vivid that I
immediately started drawing,

but the light was so poor.

You're freezing.

I'll make some tea.

Champagne time!

Mstislav Dobuzhinsky.

Mikalojus Konstantinas Ciurlionis.
Allow me to introduce...

...Sofija Kymantaite.

- My wife Jelizaveta.
- Nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you.

I've seen some of your paintings,
Mr. Ciurlionis.

Really?

The art world is small.

Not that small.

Are you currently selling your work?
People buying?

No, that's why we're here.

I may be able to help.

I know collectors who
are looking for new works.

Would you like to meet later in the week?

- Say, Friday. At 4?
- We'd love to.

I look forward to it.

Would you be able
to bring some of your work?

Definitely.

Please, Sofija, let's dance.
Let's go, let's go.

Have a look, everyone's dancing.

I'm happy to see you.

Sofija.

Don't you worry.

You don't need to worry.

Let's draw a cat.

Looks like the big claws of a cat.

There's a little devil cat with
smoke coming out of his head.

So, this one's interesting.

Did you draw your dream?

I'm not sure.
I don't really understand dreams.

Neither do I.

Sometimes I think we're never awake.

Maybe we're asleep now,
and this is just a dream.

Slava had no work for more than a year,

then, all of a sudden,
his fortune changed.

But, there are no guarantees.

Some artists are recognized
only after their death.

They suffer poverty and disappointment,

no one supports them,

then they die

and suddenly the world has lost a genius.

He's totally dedicated to his work.

Every morning he wakes up at 4 or 5 and

starts painting as soon as the light
allows.

And he still composes of course?

Yes, but not as much.

Most of his time is spent painting,

although I want him to compose,

because when he paints
e gets so frantic.

Mama, mama.

Time to talk about business, Konstantinas.

I doubt if any of the critics
will understand them.

We don't need them to understand,
just buy.

Anyway, don't be so pessimistic,
I understand your work.

Yes, but you're Lithuanian.

They're Russians.

I think you're wrong.

Your work's neither
Lithuanian nor Russian.

Mstislav, you're wrong.

My works are very Lithuanian.

Konstantinas, you're beyond such borders,

beyond the material world.

You're a mystic.

I don't think so.

But if you say so,
I'm a Lithuanian mystic.

Have a seat, please.

I need more paintings, Konstantinai.

You'll have them.

I'm worried that Sofija being here in
Saint Petersburg might distract you.

Mstislav,
Sofija is my joy and inspiration.

You take all the responsibility for her.

It's easier to struggle when you're alone.

Kastuk. I guess it's time to leave.

Mstislav, that's your treasure.

Yes.

Thank you.

Thank you for everything.

Thank you, Mstislav.

Good morning.

Good morning, my pleasure.

How is it for you in Saint Petersburg?

Thank you. Everything's fine.
How's my handwriting?

Everything's fine.
We will play it as it's written.

Gentlemen, if you allow me before we start

I would like to say some words
regarding my work In the Forest.

As you all may know,
I grew up in Lithuania,

in a small town of Druskininkai
at the river Nemunas.

Most importantly, only beautiful
pine forests surround this town.

I spent my most joyful days
of my life in those forests.

Once, when I was already a young man

I was wandering around the forest
when it suddenly became absolutely quiet.

I started to listen breathlessly.

I listened

to that quiet and
mysterious breathing of the forest.

That quiet yet magnificent breathing

consisted of everything,

sounds, colors and smells.

There were rainbows,
the sun, the sky, everything.

And everything came together to one
magnificent symphony of the world.

I sat there and looked
through the eyes of a teenager

to that fairytale which
unfolded before me.

That harmony, that divine purity,
would then go along with me all the time.

I was constantly looking
for ways to write it down.

And, of course,
when I started to write the symphony

I knew right away that
it would be In the Forest .

Konstantinai, Sofija should get home.

She's unaccustomed to
St. Petersburg hospitality

and lacks practice in drinking champagne.

Really. It's time for us to go home.

No, no way, Konstantinai. I'll take her.

You stay and bask in your glory.

- Mr. Ciurlionis.
- Yes?

- Let us congratulate you.
- Thank you.

Why do you call yourself an artist

when you're actually a composer?

Composer, painter... Who knows what I am?

You're obviously a man of many talents.

And you're obviously a
very perceptive woman,

you clearly recognize a genius.

But seriously Mr. Ciurlionis,
you must solve the mystery.

What mystery?

Are you a painter or a composer?

Let me be both. I paint what I hear,

and compose what I see.

But how?

It's a secret.
I keep it close to my heart.

Will you show me?

My heart?

Perhaps. If you're very, very, good.

Oh, I'll be good. Promise.

Natasha, you're losing your feathers.

Thank you.

Girls, for the nice evening.

Who's he?

My husband.

You're a widow?

No, why?

My husband's very much alive.

So, where is he?

Oh, we don't live together.
I couldn't possibly.

What, you don't love him?

Love, my God,
how conventional, Mr. Ciurlionis.

You disappoint me.

Love is just for children and pet dogs.

And what about you.

- Are you married?
- No.

- But I'm very much in love.
- Oh yes...

Love, of course, I forgot.

You're in love.

That's why you're here.

You know...

Elena and I love men who are in love.

Thank God you're home.

I thought something had happened.

Sofija, I'm sorry.

It's alright, you're home now.

Sofija, I beg you, forgive me.

What happened?
Why do you ask me to forgive you?

You smell of perfume.

Are you so weak?

Do I mean so little to you?

I thought you loved me.

Sofija...

There was too much champagne...

too much flattery.

You didn't see how they all admired me.

I wanted you to be proud of me,

to give you a reason to love me
as much as I love you.

Love?

I can live without that kind of love.

I've neglected my work,

my family,

I've risked my reputation,

I've risked everything for you.

How could I be so stupid.

Zose, don't leave me,

it meant nothing.

Forgive me.

This means nothing.

If it meant nothing then why do it?

Why have you thrown me away

for something that meant nothing?

You should forgive yourself, Kastuk.

I can live with these things.

Can you?

Mr. Ciurlionis,

Lithuanian gold,
first discovered by mermaids.

They built an amber palace with it
for their beloved Queen, Jurate.

Konstantinas.

Ciurlionis, come back. Now!

Dear compatriots,

it is a big honor for me
to be today with you

and with the great Dr. Basanavicius
in one place!

By showing solidarity
we're sending a simple

but clear message directly to the Czar:

we insist on an independent Lithuania!

Lithuania has already shown to
the whole world Lithuanian identity,

self-esteem and the desire for freedom.

All of this will never be taken
away by anyone or any Empire.

Because the Lithuanian nation
isn't the nation of slaves.

Please remember that

every time when someone
tries to steal our hope.

Remind that to your close friends,
to your enemies,

to Russia, to the Czar,
to the whole world.

Only this is how,
step by step will we reach our victory,

our Lithuanian freedom.

I won't let you become a martyr.

I'm trying to help you,
so don't treat me like the enemy.

But you are the enemy.

I don't understand. I'm your friend
one night, your enemy the next.

I want to be treated like the others.

Sofija, you know my orders -

I'm supposed to dispose of all
nationalists.

You know what that means.

Why won't you let me help you?

- I don't need your protection.
- Yes, you do.

And in return?

Nothing more than your gratitude.

Come to Petersburg with me.

What, as your wife?

No, I have a wife. Come as my lover.

You can have a good life with me.

I can give you all the things
you deserve.

As your whore?

I'm afraid I'm not for sale.

Everyone has a price.

How could you!

It feels as if the sun's already set,

yet it's only morning.

If I ask the question,
what shall I do today?

The answer is always the same, nothing.

If I ask the question,
when will my Zose come back?

The answer is always the same, never.

Don't be afraid. Take it easy.

So, Sofija.

Will you give me your blessing?
I've decided to marry Konstantinas.

No, I will not!

And you'll not have my permission either.

Your permission?

This is 1908 Papa,
I'm your daughter, not your property.

I'll marry who I like,
whether it's Kastuk or anyone else.

Sofija, I didn't bring you into this world

for you to throw yourself away
on the first man you see.

Sofija, you're young, beautiful,
clever, accomplished.

You could have any man.

Like Nikolai?

Why not?

Why not?

He'd make a suitable husband.

He's already married, Papa.

He didn't tell you that did he?

Your Ciurlionis is little better, a cheat,
a drunk, and womanizer.

Leonas.

A fine husband he'll make.
I wish you luck.

I think Papa's forgotten
everything he ever knew about love.

I hope not.

I'm sorry.

Sofija, your father's just
like every other father.

He hoped you'd meet a more,
let's say,

conventional man.

Like Nikolai.

And what?

Well, maybe I should have told Papa
about his offer.

And?

He wanted to set me up
in Petersburg as his whore.

Sofija, look at it
from Papa's point of view.

You came back from Saint Petersburg

unhappy and miserable

and you don't have to be
a fortune teller

to know that something happened
between you and Konstantinas.

And now you want to marry him.

Because I love him.

Whatever he's done,
I love him with all my heart.

I do understand.

I truly do.

I know you cannot change how you feel.

But you should try and imagine
how your Papa feels.

He's seen you unhappy.

And he doesn't want to see you hurt,
again.

Mama, there is no other way for me.

He's my destiny.

Yes, they're unusual.

I like this one.

I can see the influence
of folk art,

the moon,

possibly a forest,

that sinister arm.

His work reflects a sense of love,

maybe happiness.

But, at the same time,
an unspoken terror,

a fear.

Fyodor Michaelovich?

Not for me, I'm afraid.

My six year old son
paints better pictures.

Of course, if you prefer
representative art, this isn't for you.

What does he say?

Not much.

I'll give you an example.

In one of his paintings,

Fairy Tale of the Kings ,

there are hundreds of
tiny cities drawn on trees.

They fascinated me,

so I asked him what they meant.

They're what I see.

That's all he'd say.

The landlord was concerned
there'd be a corpse in the building.

What's wrong with him?

I suspect it's a fever,

and maybe exhaustion.

If he survives the night

he should pull through.

Keep him warm.

I'll come again tomorrow.

- Good day.
- Good day.

- Good day.
- Good day.

How may I help you?

I want you to create
something very specific.

Two identical rings, not in size,
but shape and color,

and engraved with zodiac signs.

- Zodiac signs?
- Astrological symbols.

Like this?

Yes.

I want Sagittarius
engraved on both of them.

This represents the date
when we marry.

And Aquarius, which was when we first met.
February.

I don't know how it would
have gone without you.

If you need somewhere for your honeymoon,

you're always welcome to stay with us.

That's very generous of you Slava,
but we've planned something already.

We're going to the sea.

You'll have beautiful light for painting.

I don't know about Sofija,
but don't expect any seascapes.

Kastuk won't only be painting.
He still needs to rest.

- And to enjoy himself.
- Yes, and that.

- Have a good trip.
- Thank you.

Kastuk, wait.

Look at the moon, Sofija.

When I was little my favorite fairy tale
was The Sun and the Moon .

Wasn't it Jurate and Kastytis?

You're right.

So, my second favorite
was The Sun and the Moon

which Mama would tell, and I'd go to bed

and in my dreams
imagine it all over again.

I don't remember it, remind me.

If you sit quietly,
like a little child, I'll remind you.

Once upon a time
the Sun and Moon fell in love.

They knew they were meant for each other,

so got married and lived
in a small and cozy house...

Well, they loved each other
and had a beautiful little daughter,

who they decided to call Earth.

The Sun and Moon lived happily,

but then they began to quarrel.

"If you keep on being so hot, I'll leave
you and never return",

said the Moon.

"Well if you remain as cold as you are,
I'll leave you first",

replied the angry Sun.

Let's divorce.

"Our daughter will remain with me",
said the Moon.

"No she won't. I'm not going to leave
my precious daughter with you."

"You will freeze her to death."

But because they couldn't
agree who should keep her,

they went to Perkunas,
the God of Thunder...

"You two who can't live together,"

"it will be like this: Sun,

you will take care of Earth"

"from morning till evening."

"Moon, you will take over
during the night."

And that's how it is.

Sun is taking care of the Earth
during the day,

and Moon is taking over from
the evening until the morning.

And when the Moon has no time,

his little sisters, the stars,
shine down on Earth.

Konstantinai,
why do you paint so many angels?

Angels, Slava, are the most important
symbols of the spiritual world.

They embody calm and beauty.

They're full of piety and grace.

Angels fly unobtrusively,

over the heavy horror that lies below.

Who knows what she is?

Half-human, half-sphinx?

She looks into the abyss

but does she see Heaven or Hell?

I don't know, Slava, I just draw her.

I didn't make her.

You three, go upstairs.

So where is he?

He's working,
but you already know that, too.

I know you follow us.

If you were mine I wouldn't
leave you alone for a moment.

I wouldn't take the chance that
someone else might be with you.

I'm not a thing. No one owns me.

I think you should leave.

Your husband's medical records
make interesting reading.

Did you know when he was
at Oginski's music school

he went mad?

And he remains mad.

There's no cure.

Now, how do you think such a
madman would cope in Siberia?

Oh, I forgot,

your father's so fond of him

he'll no doubt take care of him.

No diamonds?

I always think a bride
should wear diamonds,

as a mark of purity.

But you weren't quite pure, were you?

I think you should leave.

Where was I?

Oh yes, Siberia.

Of course, if you were nicer to me,

I wouldn't have to send your husband,
Kastuk

anywhere.

When I married my husband

I made a vow to be faithful.

And, unlike you, I meant it.

But if this is what
I have to do to protect him

then I'll make that sacrifice.

- Sacrifice?
- Yes, sacrifice.

You'll make love to me

in order to keep your husband?

I'll make sure he'll die in Siberia

and you might well rot beside him.

Once again, I order you to leave.

This is God's house, not the Czar's.

You leave me no other choice.

Prepare.

Into thy hands, Lord,
I commend his spirit.

Through this holy unction
and His own most tender mercy

may the Lord pardon thee whatever sins
thou hast committed by taste by sight,

so then he could be resurrected
among the saints and chosen ones.

Through this holy unction
I forgive you all your sins.

God help, God help.

Leave Vilnius

and you and your family can
stay in this God-forsaken country.

Count yourself lucky,

punishment for dissidents
is hard lab our.

But Juzefa's punishment
would be much worse.

Don't you dare touch Juzefa.

I'll touch her when and how I want,
and when I've finished,

I'll give her to my soldiers.

But leave within a week,

don't tell anything to Sofija,
she'll stay here.

What happened?

Nothing.

Nothing?

Are you going somewhere?

- Saint Petersburg.
- Again?

Which train? I need to pack.

I'm going on my own.

What?

I don't understand.

What don't you understand?

I'm going, you're staying.

You should stay with your parents,

then you can see plenty of Nikolai.

What are you talking about?

He's been here, looking for you.
He told me he'd seen you.

Is this your malicious revenge
for my one night adventure?

How could you think that?

I'd never be unfaithful to you. Never.

Stop lying.

I'm going alone

and I don't want you to go with me.

When will you be back?

I don't know.

Will you write?

Yes.

Do you still love me?

We can't choose who we fall in love with.

Kastuk, I'm having a baby.

I need you. Stay.

Things will change and then I'll be back.

Why don't you let me come with you?

Sofija, this is the only way.

When will she be born?

She?

Yes, the Sun and Moon had a daughter,
didn't they?

Then they divorced.

That won't happen to us.

We're bound together for eternity.

When will she be born?

Always impatient.

Sofija...

don't wave.

It would kill me.

Just turn around and go.

Dear God, why have you done this?

Depression sits on me,

as heavy as a man,
with huge ugly black wings.

It's crushing my spirit.

Why do you want to take me from my Zose?

Have you heard from Konstantinas?

You know I haven't

despite what he said
that he'd write every day.

Sorry, I didn't mean to spoil
your Christmas.

I just thought I'd be with him by now.

Sofija, look at you.

You should be putting on weight,
not losing it.

You must think about your baby's health.

Mama, I'm thinking about my baby's father,

who's all alone,
away from his friends,

away from me.

- Then go to Saint Petersburg.
- I don't have money.

Let me help you.

As a Christmas present.

Kastuk, Kastuk...

What has happened to him?

Kastuk, do you hear me?

We shall live, Uncle Vanya.

We shall live out many,
many days and long evenings.

We shall patiently bear
the trials fate sends us.

We shall hear the angels,

we shall see the whole
sky paved with diamonds,

we shall see all earthly evil,

all our sufferings covered
by the sea of mercy

which shall fill the whole earth.

I believe.

I believe.

What's the matter, Kastuk?

I've been here before, Zose.

Fate has won.

I've lost

I'm doomed.

No, you're not.

I'll take care of you.

We'll find someone who can help.

But, now, you just need to rest.

Do you mind?

He's got worse.

He believes he'll never recover.

Any hope he once had has gone.

He can't do anything,

play the piano, paint,
even go for a walk.

It's like his life's already ended.

- I've let him down.
- No you haven't.

Your husband's very ill.

You couldn't have prevented it.

We know very little about mental illness,

and even less how to cure it.

But it's clear your husband suffers

from some form of debilitating depression

and when exhausted

his mind splits into pieces.

I think he's being driven
almost insane by all the pictures,

music and everything else in his mind.

Right now he needs to be isolated
from everything

that might over-stimulate him.

I'll send him to a good sanatorium,
in Pustelnik.

Will I be able to stay with him?

It's not advisable.

But he needs me and I need him.

You know I'm pregnant?

Yes and congratulations.

The only thing your husband
needs right now

is complete rest.

Kastuk, I'll come and see you
whenever I can.

I'll write every day.

Slava, what if he forgets me?

Everything will be fine.

Slava.

Thank God Konstantinai,
you look so much better.

Well, I'm feeling a lot better.

Tell me all your news.

The doctor says
you're making good progress

and that you'll soon be home.

That's news to me,
they don't tell me anything.

What kind of medicine do you take?

I don't take anything.

I'm just like one of those trees.

I'm still and silent,
waiting for the seasons to come and go.

Soon it'll be spring and I'll come alive.

So...

The curators of the Munich Exhibition
want some of your paintings.

That's good news, isn't it?

Should I choose the paintings?

Sorry, but you can't paint just now.
You'll wake the other patients.

Besides, you need to rest.

Come on, back to bed.
I'm sorry, but it's doctor's orders.

No, I need to finish this.

Your Papa will see how beautiful you are.

His little angel.

Sofija, listen to me.

You cannot take Danute with you.
It's too far.

You've just given birth, for God's sake.

She must see him.

I can't explain it.

But she must see him as soon as possible.

Then at least let me come with you.

Have you scissors?

My darling Kastuk, our dream was true.

We now have a beautiful
little girl who I've called Danute,

just as we discussed.

She has your very own soulful eyes
and whenever I look at her I see you.

My daughter's hair.

You must be very proud.

Yes.

Once you're home you'll see for yourself.

And may she visit before then?

Maybe.

But, there is some good news.

You're allowed to go into the forest.

What, now?

Yes, if you feel able.

Thank you.

Zose, I send you all my love.

I yearn to see Danute.

In my dreams I kiss her face,
her hands and then all her tiny toes.

My heart is overwhelmed with such bliss

that I'd like to embrace the whole world
and hold it closely.

Your Papa's getting better and better.

What's the matter, dear?

She knows there's a change of routine.

She's just excited.

What is it my angel?

I think it's Pneumonia.
He has shortness of breath,

and look it hurts when he breathes deeply.

Keep him cool and try
and keep his lungs clear.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

- Hello, madam.
- My mother.

And you must be Danute.

I've heard a lot about you.

Please come to my office. This way.

There's no easy way of saying this.

Of saying what?

That at first madam's husband
was making a good recovery,

exactly as we'd hoped.

And now he isn't?

I'm very sorry. He went for a walk,
but stayed out all night,

it rained and he caught a chill.

And I'm afraid he developed pneumonia.

Is that serious?

I'm so very, very sorry.

Your husband passed away
in the early hours of this morning.

I don't...

no, that's impossible.

He was exhausted.

I don't understand.

He's not old,
he was getting better.

He caught a cold... a cold.

How could a cold kill him?

For a man his age he wasn't strong,

his system was weak.

The mind and body are connected
in so many ways.

This is your Papa.

Zose, I've been allowed to take walks.

It's a real sign I'm getting better.

I'll stay out all night,
look at the stars,

listen to the music of the forest.

Zose, aren't we the lucky ones?

You lied.

You lied, you lied, you lied.

Do I look lucky to you?!

Do I look lucky to you?!

Lord give eternal rest for the dead
and let the eternal light shine upon him.

And may you find peace in Heaven. Amen.

He never found any peace here on earth.

Sofija, please accept my condolences.

My husband's not yet cold in his grave.

Please leave us alone.

Let's go Sofija.

What did he want?

It's all right Mama, he's paid as
much respect to my husband he had.

It's such a comfort that you care for us,
and that you loved my Kastukas.

He's still alive in my heart.

We spent such little time together,

but it's not a reason to be sad.

I know that Danute would have loved him.

He would have been such
a tender and loving father.

I believe that at some point I will find
strength to tell her everything

about his paintings,

music,

how he loved his country.

Very few of his dreams came true,

he was worth so much,

but life gave him so little.

My dearest Zose,
I rejoice without end that you're the one

for whom I've longed since my childhood,
of whom I've thought,

dreamed and fantasized.

I'm not afraid of life
because we'll stand together,

and support each other.

And when we die,
you and I will meet in other lands,

since we are Eternity and Infinity.

This is where your Papa and me
used to come.

We used to talk about singing mermaids
and underwater palaces.

Yes, we did.

Then we'd walk in the forest.