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CENTRAL PARTNERSHIP

KINOSLOVO

NIKITA MIKHALKOV'S TRITE STUDIO GAZPROM MEDIA

WITH SUPPORT FROM THE CINEMA FUND

Have you looked on all the shelves?

Everywhere! It's not there.

What are you offering? Why would I need Zhukovsky?

Let's find Alex's book.

Not a single book!

When are you going to start selling?

- For crying out loud! - Four, I'll pay four!

Ladies and gentlemen, don't brawl!

- Maybe in a week's time. - Another week?!

A week? Really?

We've been waiting for so long!

Young man, I told you, we don't have Pushkin.

Here, I found one.

Oh, you're in luck! I'll gift wrap it for you.

Have you seen that?

Bloodshed is the last thing I need.

Take it, take it.

Don't mob me, please!

Get back!

Young sir, what do you have there?

Give us the books!

Have you heard?

They say his wife is not pretty.

Natalia Goncharova is a beauty, and they share true love.

He was brilliant at studies.

He hated his lyceum whole-heartedly.

I heard he is fantastically lucky.

EUGENE ONEGIN No! He gambled away his last trousers.

Superstitious beyond all limits. What a shame!

No! It's impossible.

- Look dear, it's all Pushkin again. - He's the talk of the town.

I heard he's of a dark complexion, and shoulder-height, almost a gnome.

- Seriously?! - It's true.

- He'd never write such vulgarity. - What naïveté, mon Cher.

Pushkin has written words unspeakable in a lady's presence.

I say, how many has he known?

Strasbourg pie! Pushkin's favorite meal!

Pozharsky ground-meat cutlets, the poet's favorite rissoles!

- The say the emperor himself will come. - Aren't they enemies?

- Look... Where are they all flocking? - Hey!

I heard the contrary, he's fought a hundred duels and spared no one.

Read it first, then pass the judgment.

I don't want to read anything.

I haven't read, but it's a sin not to get interested.

Extra, extra! Get your newspapers!

Pushkin is the Sun of Russian Poetry.

Buy a newspaper!

Pushkin! Pushkin! Pushkin!

Pushkin! Pushkin!

Pushkin! Pushkin! Pushkin!

Alex, look.

Pushkin! Pushkin!

Alex!

Pushkin! Pushkin!

THE POET

THE STORY OF ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Pushkin.

Pushkin. LITERATURE JOURNAL

Pushkin.

"Long live our comradely union..." TSAR'S VILLAGE LYCEUM, 1814

Pushkin!

[in Latin] If you're not moving forward, you're moving backward.

Hurry slowly.

- As you wish, but they've already left. Damn it!

Kostya.

- Danzas! - Quiet!

- Tell me who went with them? - Ivan Pushchin.

Ivan?! How could he agree?

The great Derzhavin is coming today. Put that away.

- They're in the park already. - Give me the keys.

Well well, Danzas, I see we have a traitor among us.

Ivan Pushchin.

You didn't set a time and place to fight.

- I was compelled. - Please refrain.

It's a real weapon, I don't want to lose you.

Hang on, Pushkin, you mean I risked

stealing the keys and sword,

but all the dishonor will be bygones if he mumbles an apology?

The die is cast.

Baron von Korff, I'm prepared to listen to your full apology.

What exactly should I apologize for? For calling you a fool?

Or a pauper?

Or a monkey?

- Gentlemen, desist. - Stop it, enough!

- Enough! - Lay down your arms!

Stop! Stop! Stop!

That's a breach of the code duello!

Messieurs! Desist at once!

What shame!

His Majesty has most strictly forbidden duels.

But for Alexander Pushkin,

the emperor’s word means nothing.

Speak up, give us an explanation for your savagery.

May I go straight to the dungeon?

See what happens

when you ban flogging?

The character of a moral degenerate. Bottom of almost every class.

Devoid of talent.

But not to worry.

I'll discipline him.

Mister Piletsky.

I wouldn't want to make light of Alexander's misdeed.

But he's incredibly gifted.

You'll hear his poem at today's examination.

It's astounding.

"I gorged myself at supper time, And Yakov shut the door too rashly.

Oh how I felt, brother of mine, Just like Küchelbecker makes me queasy."

Why Küchelbecker? What have I got to do with it?!

How dare you read out my private notes?

Mon Cher, Alexander is saving the best for our guest of honor.

Isn't that right?

To perform in front of Derzhavin, the great poet?

What makes you think you're worthy of such an honor?

What would you know of honor, Piletsky?

Choose your words more carefully.

Address me in a befitting manner.

What would be befitting?

Monsieur jailer or Monsieur censor? Monsieur, how can I put it politely?

- I beg your pardon? - I pardon you!

- Alex, enough! - Until you reckon with me, I won't agree.

- Young man, what insolence! - Of the highest degree.

But it'd be worse to say nothing About how you insolent you are.

I see your values. Want to jot down my quotes?

You speak of libertas But stick your nose in my notes.

If you don't fall silent right now, I'll expel you from the examination.

You've proved my point, how uncouth. You silence the speakers of the truth.

The lyceum taught us about liberté. And you're not going to take it away.

We'll pursue great ambitions, And we won't let them be forgotten.

The lyceum taught us about liberté, And you're not going to...

Silence!

Put a few words to a pathetic rhythm, and call yourself a poet?

Pushkin, I see right through you: Lazy, talentless boor.

You'd do anything not to study, Revel, and fight in duels.

Look, you'll regret it yourself.

I'm telling you, forget success If you keep up that rudeness.

I wouldn't wish your fate on an enemy.

Boy, here's my advice to you: Obey me and cut out that nonsense too.

Thanks for the offer, But I have to turn you down.

What can a coward like you endow?

Who doesn't embrace his wife at night,

But hugs a gendarme's rulebook Of wrong and right.

Indeed, it's easy to play the victor Wearing a military tunic with swagger.

Shutting me up puts you at ease, No wonder, do as you please.

Take my rights away, But don't deny the truth in what I say.

And even if you bemoan, We'll do it alone.

With our freedom and might, We're sure to become great.

There's a lot of you here, But I'm no soloist either.

My words can be vouched for By every lyceum student, mon frère.

Like Emperor Alexander beat Napoleon,

We'll write a new history like Karamzin.

We'll advance science like Lomonosov.

Like Derzhavin, we'll write great poetry.

Derzhavin himself has arrived.

A great among us.

Monsieur Derzhavin, it's an honor for us to have you here.

We'll pursue great ambitions, And we won't let them be forgotten.

The lyceum taught us about liberté, And you're not going to take it away.

We'll pursue great ambitions, And we won't let them be forgotten.

The lyceum taught us about liberté, And you're not going to take it away.

We'll pursue great ambitions, And we won't let them be forgotten.

The lyceum taught us about liberté, And you're not going to take it away.

"Of life I have seen but the beginning..." SAINT-PETERSBURG, 1817

African blood... My word, you've grown pale!

Climate has that effect on you, huh? I barely recognize you.

What?

It looks good.

Great sewing skills. I'm ever so grateful.

You'll mend that floorcloth yourself. Didn't they teach you at the poorhouse?

Masha, stop!

Greetings, Pushkin!

Steep fall from the lyceum to St. Petersburg, huh?

Danzas! Don't pay him any heed. It's a good neighborhood, very quaint.

- You have a hole in your collar. - I know. So what?

- Leave it alone! - Great costume!

I'll give you a second one.

Will they let us fly?

An original creation of Montgolfier brothers.

Evening, ladies!

What?

- Are you going to wish every...? - Evening...

Don't dither, watch and learn.

You get only one chance to make an impression on the capital's ladies.

- I'm wasting no time. - Alex, clothes don't make a man.

You serve in the Collegiums of Foreign Affairs.

- A lowly sinecure. - But with great promise.

Of course.

I'll introduce you to friends, important people.

- Recite them something. Ay? - Forget them, recite to the ladies.

The one about the cat, oak, and chain.

Your invitation, please.

- Welcome! - Let's go.

Monsieur… Your invitation?

Invitation?

Now, I see. Welcome to Saint Petersburg!

Look!

One more glass!

Our champagne!

Well, my friends? Leap into action!

- Evening, ladies! - Alex! Zhukovsky!

"I know the good shall have a feast When on the other side;

There's a place for me to join So I shall celebrate."

- Oh please, it's nothing. - Magnificent!

Vasily, congratulations on your post. Educating a princess is a great honor.

- Let's get out of here. - Ivan Pushchin. Remember me?

No, but thank you. It's in God's hands.

I'd like to introduce you to my friend, another poet...

Alexander Pushkin.

The same Pushkin our late mentor Derzhavin was enamored with?

Terrific, and what are you writing?

- He's writing a poem. - A poem?

How ambitious!

Recite it.

I've only started writing it.

"In Lukomorye a green oak grows, Around it a golden chain…"

Bravo!

Eudoxia, how vulgar to delight in attention so.

Eudoxia...

What were you saying about Lukomorye?

- What are you doing? - Putting you out of your misery.

Gentlemen! Ladies!

A minute of your attention!

Her Radiance, the dazzling Princess Natalia Golitsyna,

who has kindly opened up her beautiful home to all of us,

has prepared a surprise for the guests.

Tonight, you'll hear a recital by a young poet,

a poet lauded by the great Derzhavin himself.

Alexander Pushkin,

and his poem "Ruslan and Larisa".

Idiot.

Derzhavin lost the plot towards the end, began hailing street urchins poets.

"Run, and begone from my view,

You listless Cytherean princess!

Bane of tsars, tell me, where are you? Where are you, Liberty's proudest muse?

Come, tear the laurels off my head, And then smash up the coddled lyre...

May the world Liberty's song admire, Let her stun the enthroned vice.

Alas! Where ever I cast my gaze - Bodies are flayed and others are chained,

Serfs weep, shedding powerless tears, Guilty lawmakers should be ashamed;

Far and wide, unrighteous Power Reigns in a fog of prejudices;

Slaver's terrible genius, Along with glory's ill-fated fervor,

And crime committed from on high Will be fought with our righteous vigor

In a hand uncorrupted by Insatiable greed or just fear.

Sovereigns! Know that your throne and crown Are given by Man, not Nature's hand.

Though above us you may well stand, The Law is still there to bring you down.

Tsars, listen, know that this is true: Not one punishment, no accolades,

No stone dungeon walls or altars Can provide steadfast shelter for you.

Be the first to lower your head, Bowed beneath the Law's safe canopy,

And the People's peace and Liberty

Shall guard your throne

Forevermore."

Alex, let's go.

You should've done the one about the cat.

Very brave!

Pushkin is the bard of freedom.

"But I see you, I follow you.

What of it? I'm a weak man too!

Freedom is lost forevermore. Against his will the heart adores."

You're very talented, my boy.

But I won't give you my heart.

Don't despair though.

I'll give you much more.

What then?

The following of Saint Petersburg.

- Alexander! Alexander! - Recite another!

Bravo! Alexander!

Bravo!

His road is on the edge The routes don't change

The whole province of Champagne Toasts to his risks again

They all cry: "You madman!" In the eye of the storm, he's forsaken

Oh! He dodged all the bullets He's the darling of these streets

The city sings with me in unison

- Is it Pushkin? - Alexander, hello!

The city sings with me in unison The city sings!

The city sings with me in unison

Lady luck loves the one who goes all in

A white night brings a drunk sunrise

The city of bridges sings From the Neva to the skies

Alex, it's time you considered Russia's future.

"Have faith, my fellow! She'll arise, Star of mesmerizing happiness,

Russia shall arise from her slumber, And inscribe each one of our names

On the debris of absolute power."

Alexander, when will you finish "Ruslan"?

Never!

St. Petersburg is awash again Corks go through the roof

He'll kick the door in with a smash If the key won't fit or it's on the latch

On the lookout for a princess He breaks every female heart

Drive faster!

I love you!

Life's a game whose script is written By this genius of a bard

The city sings with me in unison The city sings with me in unison

The city sings with me in unison

The city sings with me in unison

- A lesson for the tsars! - Alexander, who is that?

Louvel, the assassin of an heir to the French throne.

The end of the night A drunken sunrise

The city of bridges Sings about love

The city sings

You must not be interested in that.

We're standing on our legs!

Walk on your own two.

Listen, order a fen-berry pie for me.

Everyone visits her. You'll see.

Madame, the great Pushkin.

Straight from Mount Olympus.

He wishes to lift the fog hanging over his bright future.

The great poet won't remember a thing in the morning.

What are friends for, Oracle of Delphi?

- You'll be the scribe, my boy. - Thank you.

The great Pushkin.

He really does have a gift.

A wild, indomitable spirit.

And where he goes,

danger follows.

"DANGER" And...

A long and distant journey.

Not always of your own free will.

Much suffering.

A woman...

A sister? No.

A friend? No.

A wife.

"A WIFE"

You're going to lose someone.

A close one? A relative? Perhaps a friend?

Yes, a friend.

Happiness.

Much later, or...

Death and eternity.

You can choose.

Eye whites, bloodshot eyes. Fear the color white.

White horses... White manes...

Fair hair...

Danger. A long unwanted journey. Suffering. A wife...

- My condolences. - A lost friend...

- Don't hold your breath. - Then happiness, or death and eternity.

- Alex... - Fear white horses, manes or hair.

- Alex! Alex! - Ouch!

- Alex! - Stop slapping me!

Are you coming to eat pie, or what?

- We're going to Béranger's! - Yes.

To Béranger's! To Béranger's!

Mr. Pushkin.

You're arrested.

- Did Küchelbecker send you? - Aim!

Please, send him our respects.

We're bowing down!

You two stay here.

- I forgot my top hat. - Go!

I'm not guilty... I'm not guilty!

I'm not guilty!

A. K. BENCKENDORFF

We’re free birds, my brother! Time… time we took flight

Wait, but we took that gnome down from the pillar.

We gave him ten rubles.

All jokes aside, I'll return Trubetskaya's cats.

May I leave now?

Very well, I completely understand…

Louvel's portrait… The debris of autocracy.

- It was fun while it lasted though. - Fun?

Then I imagine you won't be bored in Siberia either.

Excuse me.

- Vasily Zhukovsky. - Alexander von Benckendorff.

Not enough arrests to pay for a new office yet?

As it happens, I'm already moving.

In that case, the move will have to be put on hold.

Thank the Lord Princess Golitsyna hasn't realized

whose aid she's come to.

But mark my words, she will.

- And I can't wait... - Wait.

- We'll give the lad a chance for now. - Vasily!

But won't it be difficult

for him to use that chance in the capital?

Considering his young blood, the many temptations.

- Not need to worry with the Lord's help. - Yes, it's all in God's hands, but...

You and I can help too.

We'll send the young talent to serve somewhere quieter.

Surely the princess wouldn't mistake such help from you and I

for contempt for her request, would she?

I imagine not.

Are you exiling me from St. Petersburg?

Let me help you.

Sir Pushkin, thought you could slip away?

Alexander!

I read "Ruslan" in one sitting. I'm overcome.

Here's some inspiration for you.

To a victorious student from a defeated tutor.

And this is for the road. Byron, hot off the press.

Delicious writing!

I need to get a grip, don't I?

Or you'll regret coming to my defense.

You fool.

- Farewell, brother. - Until we meet again.

You've had your turn, Ivan. Let me embrace him.

Well, my buddy!

- "Nastiness and ghastliness abound. - In the drinking glass and beauty:

That's where life's happiness is found! Yes!"

- Our days of mischief aren't over yet. - Yes.

"My friends, our union is glorious,

Inseparable and eternal like the soul,

Unwavering, free, no cares at all,

A woven canopy of friendly ties.

Whether fate carries us near or far,

And where ever happiness may lead,

We know who we are: The rest of world is abroad.

"I wallow in dirt..." SOUTH, 1823

Tsar's Village is our fatherland"

Well, gentlemen!

Collegiate Secretary Pushkin,

has been sent here by order of Governor-General Vorontsov.

Who can tell me what gentlemen do here?

Erm... So, it went there.

Then whistled that way...

So we've gone and razed everything.

That's all.

"Locusts flew over the plain, landed on the ground,

ate everything they found, and flew off again."

- Is this a joke? - Almost a word-for-word account.

Remind me, Pushkin,

do you have an estate?

- Alas, the Lord didn't provide. - But left you in debt up to your ears.

They say coachmen already refuse to cart your lordship around.

You've spent three years touring the southern governorates

with admirers galloping after you like a nosebag of verses.

But I don't need a poet around here.

If you won't work, I'll strip you of your salary in a wink.

I want the report ready by this evening.

The end is nigh! The end is nigh!

Lenormand has predicted the end of the world!

Extra, extra! The end is nigh! The end is nigh!

When will you pay, your lordship?

"Accept them with a smile, my friend, offerings of Liberty's muse."

Some Pushkin wrote it. Have you read it?

I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure.

Is he any good?

Magnificent. A quaint tale: "The Prisoner of the Caucasus".

As if penned by the great Lord Byron's quill.

Please excuse my rudeness.

But perhaps you'll find time to read me that Pushkin?

- I want to be enlightened. - My pleasure. I love to enlighten.

Lisonne!

- Forgive me, I won't make lunch. - Why not?

I'll be late, don't wait up for me. Lay down to sleep.

Pushkin, get to work! I want it by this evening!

So now I have a little free time.

Or has Byron lost interest?

You mean you admire the heroine who got rid of another?

Prepared to do anything for love.

"Once we caught in mid-flight

A winged moment of heavenly bliss

The joys on the bed of delights Moved beauty to blush..."

So you arouse curiosity and leave?

Stay.

Read me this.

Now.

I'm afraid it's late for reading. Don't you think?

Lisonne?

Lisonne! What's got into you?

Fantasizing about the harem?

- Have you decided to take me captive? - Yes. Now you're my literary slave.

Don't be so boring, Byron.

Your Byron doesn't have time. Your husband will work him into an early grave.

To hell with that nonsense. Are you a poet or what?

- Lisonne, nonsense keeps a poet fed. - How dull.

If I had even a drop of your talent,

I'd write day and night, leave everything and crisscross the globe.

Byron is above scribbling reports.

Byron doesn't live in Russia.

You can't earn a living from poetry here.

Derzhavin was a senator, Zhukovsky educates the grand princess.

Vyazemsky was a prince over tens of thousands of serfs.

And I... I write reports.

No, you're no Byron.

You're no hero.

I'm no hero?

And why does everyone buy Byron?

He writes magnificently and leads such a colorful, interesting life.

- Everyone talks about it. - Everyone talks, that's why he sells.

And who does everyone talk about here?

Oh, Alex.

I can take care of that.

The count split with his mistress

So he decided to grab the scissors

He cut off his locks with a few snips And was the word on everyone's lips

The marquess wanted to be stylish

But he knew absolutely nought

The suit would fit If it weren't for the gaudy color

Poor thing He was the word on everyone's lips

Boredom - they're so bored

That from dusk until the dawn They need to dish dirt on everyone

Scary - they're so scared

To become the target of the loud rumors

So they dish the dirt on others

Sharp tongues spread controversy To slash the monotony

Tearing off masks, zealously They slap labels on everybody

Either crazy or ingenious out-and-out Without a shadow of a doubt

Risking it all to stand their ground

They give us something to talk about

Here!

Boredom - they're so bored

That from dusk until the dawn They need to dish dirt on everyone

Scary - they're so scared

To become the target of the loud rumors

So they dish the dirt on others

Pushkin - the noble dueler!

Ladies and gentlemen!

Soon, thanks to the part I played,

a new poem will be published

by the great Pushkin: "The Fountain of Bakhchisaray".

Boredom - they're so bored

That from dusk until the dawn They need to dish dirt on everyone

Scary - they're so scared

To become the target of the loud rumors

So they dish the dirt on others

- Well? Time to conquer the world now? - You're insatiable.

Hey! Can you hear me, Paris?

Can you hear me, London? Open the gates - we're coming!

- Shut up. - You shut up!

Lisonne, let me in!

Alex!

- Keep it down! Alex, what happened? - What was meant to happen.

We leave for Kishinev now, from there to Vienna and on to Paris.

The carriage is waiting... I wrote to you.

Yes, but I was thinking, perhaps we've taken our mischief too far?

Can you imagine the uproar when everyone realizes we've run away?

Where's the champagne?

Right.

Alex.

Alex, forgive me, I won't leave the man I walked down the aisle with.

- Such sins are unforgivable. - Balderdash!

We're heroes, they love us.

- Right. - Yes.

But one misstep and they'll drag us through the dirt.

There's nothing more entertaining than watching a hero fall.

Rumors about me would reach Paris.

It'd be the death of me.

Alright.

I'll call everything off.

No need.

You go.

Live life to the fullest, revel in salons all over Europe.

Lisonne, why would I want to tour all those damn salons without you?

Alex.

May this talisman

guard you on your travels.

I don't need it. I'm not going anywhere.

Go, Alexander.

I forbid you from setting foot inside this house.

Lisonne...

I'll report you to my husband if I see you again.

"But I am someone else's wife, I shall be true to him for life."

Turn back!

As you wish, sir! Wakey wakey, turn back!

Governor, Your Excellency?

I thought you don't have trouble sleeping at night.

You're discharged from the service.

These officers will escort you

to your native village of Mikhaylovskoye.

You're exiled.

From one exile to another? That's ridiculous!

You don't get exiled here for bruised marital pride.

- My lord! - Stop, stop, stop.

Stupid boy.

I have no fewer connections than your patrons.

Benckendorff sends his regards.

One more thing.

A word of advice for the road.

Be kinder to those upon whom your fate depends.

"Guard me, guard me, my talisman, Guard me on days of persecution,

On days of repentance, fret: On a day of sorrow us two met.

Never let memories, not one,

Hey, Anton!

Reopen the wounds of love so bitter.

Farewell to hope; And sleep, desire;

Guard me, guard me, my talisman."

Well then, my lord, where should I put your scribbles?

THE PRISONER OF THE CAUCASUS

EUGENE ONEGIN

Hey, I'm a poet The most pathetic geezer

A waffler and a jester No hero or tyrant either

If flames engulf your home Call on me to pen a line in your album

And until I'm sacrificed to Apollo I'll sit drunk in a salon and wallow

Inside I carry a cursed gift Like a blazing fire I've got to put out

Put it out, put it out, ow, ow, it's hot What a divine word, the word is "hot"

What a divine word, the word is "hot" Hot, hot, ow, ow

What a divine word, the word is "hot" Hot, hot, hot

Exiled to the sticks and miffed Trapped with this dumb demanding gift

Of all the dungeons of the soul Why is mine in such a hole?

Let a flock of snow-white pages fly Only with you I'm like a bird in the sky

If in this world I get trapped in a net I'll create a dozen new worlds in it

No one can take freedom away from me

O Divine word, set me free... - My lord...

Set me free, free me... O Divine word Set me free...

The censors wrote back.

NOT PRINT-WORTHY

Not print-worthy.

Burn in the night, my lines Slavishly spit up onto my alter

Fade into the crowd at dawn

Holy smoke in my incense burner I'd rather the smoke of a cigar

How weary I am of worldly vulgarity I'd blow this worldly melancholy

Even if I catch a bullet in my heart I'm a poet, I'd only die in part

O Divine word, I'm your servant O Divine word, don't fall silent

Protect me, Divine word Don't leave, don't leave me deserted...

- I'm Ruslan today. - My turn!

Let me go!

You do the scrubbing in this damn tub!

Ivan...

I was wondering where our Pushkin got to.

- Here he is on the floor. - Give it a rest, brother.

Don't read that, it won't go to print anyway.

You can disseminate it among friends.

Want to accompany me to Siberia?

How are things in the capital?

A rumor has spread that the emperor is weary or ill...

He'll abdicate soon.

Grand Duke Konstantin Pavlovich will accept our draft Constitution.

With freedom of speech.

So your days of censorship and exile will soon be over.

"A youthful voice resounds anew From the sweet lyre!"

And that's the voice we need right now. Whoa, easy.

- Who needs it... - We all do. You were always my hero.

And now not only in my eyes.

We've read all your poetry. Your words go straight to the heart.

You sparked burning passion for freedom. We'll awaken Russia from her slumber.

And we could really do with your voice right now.

The censors will hang me, I won't live to see your Constitution.

"...stripped the decrepit throne. The fetters fell..."

André Chénier.

I'll be careful.

Will you make it back in this blizzard?

Hegh! Go!

Go!

Go!

A long and distant journey. Not always of your own free will.

Someone will leave. A close one? A relative? Perhaps a friend?

Yes, a friend.

My Lord! Just go outside if you wish to catch your death.

Fear the color white. White horses... White manes... Fair hair...

We need to back him up.

Will he agree?

Is it true?

Stay awake, my lord! Guard up! That's more like it!

Emperor Alexander is dead.

God rest his soul.

And long live Konstantin Pavlovich.

- We'll set out after I shave. - What for, my lord?

- He'll be buried when we get there. - I don't care about the dead emperor.

It's time to swear allegiance to the living.

- What do you mean he abdicated? - In a secret renunciation.

Ave Nicholas I!

A bad omen.

It couldn't get any worse. He'll never set his mind to change.

Fear the color white.

Then we need to march. And demand Konstantin.

And the Constitution.

Let's go.

We have a plan. The regiments are at the ready.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa. - Not a white horse. Find another.

Well then, ready to march, friends?

The horse stalled.

- Hand over the reins, you oaf! - My lord...

Yah!

Let it go.

Your Imperial Highness, there's an uprising.

You'll be escorted to safety.

- [in German] O my God! - All will be well, mein Herzchen.

"Wait a little, wait a little,

Only a day, one day:

And no more executions, freedom for all,

And a great citizen will live Among great people."

To Konstantin and the Constitution!

Hooray!

- God damn it! - I'll mend it now, my lord.

Done, my lord! We can press onward.

Turn back.

Your Imperial Highness, the conspirators have been arrested.

Pushkin's work was found in their homes.

Including censored work.

I wrote it.

I think that he is no less guilty of sparking this deplorable incident.

Pack up your things.

What happened to the rebels?

The instigators were hanged.

And Ivan Pushchin?

Siberia. Hard labor.

"My first friend, my priceless friend!

I hailed destiny, When my secluded court was filled

By your sleigh bells as the sound Drifted in on the sorrowful snow to me.

I pray Divine providence: may my voice Give your soul the same consolation,

May he illuminate your incarceration In a ray from our bright lyceum days!"

Who are you?

Thought I'd fall to my knees and beg for your mercy?

Why to your knees, Alexander? No one asked for that.

Pleased to meet you.

- Your Imperial Highness. - Nicholas Pavlovich.

- You appear to have already met. - Have you moved into your new office?

Yes. I've made Benckendorff the head of the Gendarmes

and Secret Police.

I've even made him a count.

Address me in the proper manner.

- Save it, Pushkin. Do you play tennis? - Play what?

- Nicolas Pavlovich, I'm confused. - You'll get it, Pushkin.

You use this racket to hit a ball back and forth over a net.

And don't aim for Benckendorff's forehead.

Your side of the court.

Did your lyceum not offer sports? Only libertinism and poetry?

Think again, we stomped Hessian boots Fenced and clashed swords in rivalry

Easy, be more cunning with him The count will find weak spot in the end

We could've been classmates,

shared an iamb And I could have even been your friend

But we weren't mates, we didn't chat And you're no friend of mine either

I seriously doubt it, Freedom means less to you than power

- I'll change the system from within - I prefer to judge a man by his deeds

How about a change of subject then Did the lyceum plant any seeds?

Tutors taught lessons about liberty Equality and courageous fraternity

"Liberté, égalité, fraternité" I've been reciting it for years

Like "the Lord's Prayer"

If they gave you a crown It'd make you a king

How would you ascend the throne? What would you do with the power it brings?

If they gave you a crown It'd make you a king

How would you ascend the throne? What would you do with the power it brings?

I know we need change in this country Hey, where should I start?

I heard tsars are high and mighty With absolute power, you don't need my advice

- Russia needs education - So we've found a job for you

- End slavery, down with flagellation - That idea has been on my mind too

- No more censorship, a full abolition - Of course, it should end at once

Censorship destroys the cultural foundation

From now on, I'll read your verse

We'll relax surveillance later Abolish censorship, you have my word

- We have a deal, is that what you infer? - A tsar's word, like what you heard?

The soonest return of the exiled rebels And my main request from you

I can tell an iamb from a choreus But that's something I'm not willing to do

I can vouch for Ivan's name Of injustice I'm sick and tired

Who's to blame? Thanks for the game I promise to have his case reviewed

- You may return to St. Petersburg - Thanks

Forgive me for this scandal I should be rotting in the dungeon murk

- I never thought I'd be so servile - I never wanted to be tsar

- People only criticize tsars like me - But we tsars are mortal too

And what kind of ruler would you be?

If they gave you a crown It'd make you a king

How would you ascend the throne? What would you do with the power it brings?

If they gave you a crown It'd make you a king

How would you ascend the throne? What would you do with the power it brings?

Fine game all the same, don't you agree?

Pity it won't take off here.

Alexander.

If you'd been there on the day of the revolt,

what would you have done?

Faced incrimination as a conspirator...

And stood by my friend's side.

Loyalty is worth its weight in gold these days.

"Weariness, cold and granite..." SAINT-PETERSBURG, 1828

Pushkin!

Pushkin!

All sold out in one day. I've never seen anything like it.

- "You did it, Pushkin! - You did it, you son of a bitch."

They can't get enough of you. Our 3rd edition of "the Fountain".

- How's "Godunov" coming along? - The tsar's reading, can't be rushed.

Of course, of course. But we can't wait for it.

Mr. Pushkin, would you be so kind? Please, sign this for me?

- Mine too, please. - You're the best!

Thanks, Alexander!

- When's the next chapter? - Will Onegin be with Tatyana?

Mesdames, make way for a genius!

Shoo! Shoo! Oh my, have you hit the jackpot?

Time for a drink and a dance. They've got better girls there.

- Can we just have dinner at Béranger's? - Desist!

Your friend has returned from the war. Wounded and decorated.

He gets to choose. Drive!

Good evening! Why haven't you been brought champagne?

- Pushkin! - Alexander, do us the honor...?

Katya, hurry, they're already dancing.

You're not a maid at the inn to break into a jig at the first sound of music.

[in French] Be more sensible.

Embroiders all day, reads, not too much. No daughter, she's an angel.

They all are angels at first.

Please, recite one. Just one.

Forgive me, now would be highly objectionable.

- Excuse me. - Don't curl up into a ball, Alex.

The ladies are begging you.

"How ambrosial, but God, how dangerous

You to heed, your sweet gaze to meet.

Will I forget the smile, the beautiful gaze?

And fiery, enchanting conversation? Enchantress, why did I see you -

Knowing you, I learned bliss - And happiness my own

became loathsome."

- Excuse me. - Where are you going?

- They're almost ready. - Well go on, you take it from here.

What's the matter with you?

Where's the old Alex who woke up each morning with a new lady?

- Kostya. - Charge into battle!

Will you calm down? Enough.

It's been a year since you were dry. Enough with the champagne.

Go home.

Are you abandoning your friend on the battlefield?

Traitor.

Say you're sorry.

You betrayed Ivan, now me?

Have you descended into complete delirium?

Ah, you've a new little friend now, Nikolaschka.

Our little monkey…

Will you repeat that at the barrier line?

Sorry.

Excuse me, could you step back?

Just one step back, please.

"Blessed is he amid the town's din Who dreams of solitude."

Beautiful, who wrote that?

- Alexander Pushkin. - Oh, I heard something about him.

I’m Alexander Pushkin.

Oh, sorry.

Natalia Goncharova.

Afraid they won't leave anything to drink?

No.

Maman wants to match me with the old general,

but won't let me have champagne.

But it's the only way I can bear him.

Is it worth bearing?

Of course, it’s my duty to marry.

Did you not hide a second glass?

Alas.

Are you also being matched up?

Oh, no, I seem to have grown weary of society.

No, I meant the balls.

Well, I like them.

I'd rather dance with an old man than be locked up with Maman.

I feel I'm even locked up here.

You should try dancing too.

You feel so light and free, forget everything else in the world.

You owe me a glass.

'Til we meet again, Alexander Pushkin.

- Let's go now. - Let me, please.

What were you thinking? Be more sensible.

Katrin, time to go home.

Madam, madam!

I never meant to offend, not you, nor your daughter.

She's a child, she didn't know what sort of person you are.

But, madam, that's in the past.

Now I'm more than worthy of your trust.

Pariah with a quill.

Drive!

EMPEROR NICHOLAS I

His Imperial Highness has retired to his chambers.

Again.

They won't let me see him.

You're raising the grand heir, you see him every day.

- Ask to have me admitted. - Lord, what have you done now?

Nothing.

In that case, he probably doesn't have time.

But I'm powerless here.

Alright, so that means I can just storm in to see him?

Never abuse the emperor's goodwill.

Anger him, and everyone kissing your hand will spit in it.

Hand it over.

You're lucky to have a mentor like me.

What's troubling you?

You live a charmed life.

Everything you pen goes down in the history of literature.

To hell with literature!

It's been months since they let me see her.

What if he writes a letter, huh?

To say that he reads my work and can vouch for me.

- I'm afraid he doesn't read you. - He does.

Listen, ask him to write a letter

to vouch for my honorable moral character.

Will you ask him?

Nicolas Pavlovich entrusts all decisions about you

to your favorite gendarme.

You should see him.

Good day.

Splendid office.

I've learned that the emperor appointed you as my censor.

Very well...

At least someone reads my work.

- I demand... - I must interrupt you.

I don't take kindly to demands.

I beg your pardon, Your Excellency.

If Your Excellency doesn't consider it too much trouble,

I implore you most humbly to vouch for my honorable character in a letter.

For the happiness of the girl I love,

whose mother considers me

"a pariah with a quill".

And are you of honorable character?

Always have and always will be.

Pushkin's case file.

Pushkin, you keep breaking records For being most insolent

A rebel, dueler, slanderer of tsars And a bullheaded belligerent

A poser, Chief Gambler With only limericks in his noggin

The definition of "degenerate" character Should read "Alexander Pushkin"

Much is true of what you say But pardon the sins of yesterday

I atoned for them in exile Where you sent me for a while

So you hastened to take up pens For "Deep in the Siberian Mines"

To sanctify the Decembrists With your audacious pains

- I dedicated it to sacred friends - And in "Godunov", don't you say

That to tsar Herod it's a sin to pray?

Two centuries have passed since Godunov died - But the state lives on today

The people should be unified But you, Pushkin, sow seeds of discord and affray

It's hard for you to understand: My duty is to guard

The fragile human consciousness From tumultuous creation's mess

I only want to look after Those condemned to stray

This ephemeral world of our day Could do with some law and order

You accused me of conspiracy With the flick of a pen

But everyone loves my poetry From generals to coachmen

"Graf Nulin", fairy tales, and "Onegin" Were none of them to your liking?

Engaging little pieces But they hardly do much uniting

Is that so? So how do they know: "The less you show your love to a woman..."?

"...the more her love will grow."

- "They came together. Wave and stone..."? - "...Verse and prose, ice and flame."

Come on, count, sing along Or do you not sing the people's song?

- "Habit is heaven's gift to us..."? - "...To replace happiness."

I don't deny you're a genius of verse Or course

- But "Genius and villainy..."? - "...Grievous incompatibility."

It's hard for you to understand: My duty is to guard

The fragile human consciousness From tumultuous creation's mess

I only want to look after Those condemned to stray

In your time of need, I'm here To save your with poetry

Then write something grand To unite us all as one

With respect for the fatherland And rulers of the nation

What do you make of Peter the Great? The tsar holds him in great regard

An ode to him is bound to unite And win the nation's hearts

Tailor stanzas like suits? I decline I'm a poet, I don't sew sonnets

If it'd prove your character's fine Would you still be in doubt?

What do you say, Pushkin? No one wants to wed to a libertine

What do you say Pushkin? Or do you not want me to intervene?

It's hard for you to understand: My duty is to guard

The fragile human consciousness From tumultuous creation's mess

I only want to look after Those condemned to stray

This ephemeral world of our day Could do with some law and order

- The muse won't forgive me forgeries - Why forge it? Be fair

- But genius and villainy… - I see countless cases of their unity

- I've built my monument… - I'll tear it down in the blink of an eye

- Blessed is… - One who serves 'til they're sick

- Frost and sun... - Carrot and stick

TESTIMONY OF HONORABLE CHARACTER

I asked Nicholas Pavlovich to view Ivan Pushchin the rebel's case.

I haven't heard back.

Would you be so kind as to remind him?

Don't mistake mercy for weakness.

Hooray!

Hooray!

Why don't we give the rest of the festivities a miss?

I wanted to ask you that.

Go! Faster!

"No, to see you every minute,

"If only time would stand still..." TSARSKOE SELO, 1831

Follow you everywhere,

The smile on your lips, flickering eyes, Captured in my own loving gaze,

To greedily devour you, to comprehend All your perfection with the soul,

Freeze in the throes before you, Grow pale and waste away… That's bliss!"

Well... Not bad.

- Not bad? - Uh-huh.

Why you! "Not bad"...

Alex.

Not bad, huh?

You've finished "Onegin"?

Alex, wait! I want to read it, Alex!

Wait!

- Alex. - Natalia!

Why did you get up? I'll be back in a flash.

I'll visit Smirdin for a game of cards and be right back.

- What would you like me to bring back? - I don't need anything.

I love you.

- No horseback riding. - Uh-huh.

Bonjour, family! - Alex!

The carriage has been broken.

Just imagine, we drove with a missing wheel!

- Alex, I missed you so. How are you?

I'm well. - How was the road?

The Urals are magnificent! The locals…

The roads…

I've conceived a fine work. About Pugachev.

Alex…

Soon, soon, don't disturb me.

Alex, do you think we could move to St. Petersburg?

Well, firstly, it'd be expensive.

I've done the sums, we have more than enough.

We have our world, we're happy. Why do we need that?

- I'm the happiest I've ever been. - Me too.

Very happy. But I've grown a little weary.

I yearn for a little more liveliness. The city, society, people.

Why don't we try a month? We'll do a year's worth of dancing.

We'll have fun, and return when we get tired. You and I.

Shall we?

Yes!

- What were you doing there? - I spoke to Balzac.

Thank you.

Alex, let's go?

- You go, I'll go greet everyone. - Alright. Don't keep me waiting long.

I will.

Oh, Pushkin is so lucky.

Pushkin and Goncharova are a brilliant couple.

Pushkin.

"Stroking my lyre, I'll strum a rhythm for the guests.

All I ask is for your name! Who stands before me, my lord?"

- No one, please desist. - Oh, why so modest, Alexander?

Not just anyone, the court's poet laureate.

With all due respect to you and your court, I'm just a poet.

Alexander is too modest.

Like many things, he learned that from me.

I must excuse myself.

I promised to read your work, but I haven't had one free minute.

- The country awaits. - Oh, not to worry.

Benckendorff and I have also found a certain... common ground.

Yes, I've heard it firsthand.

I read the historical novel about Peter, intriguing, but it still needs editing.

- Which parts? - Peter was a great ruler.

I hoped to see my hero.

But I saw a complete stranger. Know what I mean?

I wouldn't want to make him a monument. After all, he was interesting, complex.

Yes, but I'm not sure that's really what the readers need.

I've been writing for years, I know exactly what they need.

Alexander, where is your spouse, huh? You still haven't introduced us.

Natalie.

Bravo, Pushkin!

Such a jewel is above a poet's gaze, worthy of an emperor’s eye.

Nicolas Pavlovich, you know, in my experience,

ladies tend to prefer poets to rulers.

Is that so?

I hope that's not true of all of them.

Have a merry time. Let's go, mein Herzchen.

What have you uttered? Go apologize at once.

Afraid he'll think I learned my insolence from you too?

I care about you. You've got so much writing left in you.

I'll write. Literature won't suffer. Nor will your name.

- I look at you and can't help smiling. - I know the feeling.

I look at her the same way at home.

- Good evening! - Good evening!

- Georges-Charles de Heeckeren d'Anthès. - Pleasure to meet you. Alexander.

Pushkin? I recognized you, I'm your fan.

I haven't heard anything about you.

I can only dream of attaining a mere whiff of your glory.

You feared St. Petersburg, but here you are, surrounded by fans.

- Natalia... - I want to dance.

My apologies. I didn't think Natalia has such a famous spouse.

- And such a respected one. - No hard feelings.

I hope you won't judge a fellow for his good taste.

I should apologize too.

I mistook you for a hunter of other men's' wives.

You weren't wrong.

In my defense, I must say,

you were a true libertine in your youth.

I've heard all about your antics. Or is it a wicked lie?

Yes, yes. I've sinned.

But what sin is here?

Wooing another's wife is the surest way to attract society's attention.

Your thoughts are familiar to me.

But now I'm married and I condemn everyone for such mischief.

I'm sure you've given Natalia everything she's dreamed of.

Look. A typical story.

An old man with no money married a beautiful woman, but poor too.

He doesn't give her presents. She's bored.

How can the poor thing be helped?

Or him. Look how funny he is.

- But he's no old man. - Not far off. How old is he?

Around 35?

I'm 34.

You still have a year.

I'm joking!

Sir Pushkin, His Imperial Highness wishes to see you.

Please excuse me, Monsieur d'Anthès.

Blessings to you and your beautiful wife.

Ah, Pushkin, come in, my friend, join me for a drink.

Help yourself.

After much deliberation, I've decided you need a new rank.

I serve the Fatherland.

You work hard, it's true.

And have earned the right to be my kammerjunker.

I beg your pardon?

But...

I'm too old to be a kammerjunker, that would be a lowly rank for me.

No, on the contrary, it's a great honor.

Vivat!

Nicholas Pavlovich,

I can't accept it, it's a courtier's title,

but Natalia and I didn't plan to stay in St. Petersburg.

Address me in the proper manner:

Your Imperial Highness.

Lucky I wasn't sent to that lyceum of yours after all.

Or I wouldn't know my place either.

Oh yes, and in my experience, women prefer emperors to kammerjunkers.

Nicholas Pavlo...

Your Imperial Highness, if I many ask,

have you made a decision on the fate of Ivan Pushchin the rebel?

Yes.

As far as I recall, I pardoned him there and then.

I think that should suffice.

"Know this, o haughty poet! Fortune's darling of yesterday.

My lyre christens you A buffoon henceforth.

"Other news: I'm a kammerjunker..." SAINT-PETERSBURG, 1836

Katya.

- Good morning, Dad! - Good morning, family.

- Good morning! - Good morning!

Here's another one, Katya.

You know who invited us?

Alex, don't start the day with reports.

Should it start with invitations to balls?

Children, come with me.

Alex,

I'm looking for a suitor for Katya.

The poor thing is 25 already.

Do you want her to live with us forever?

A suitor for Katya, or admirers for you?

My dear husband,

have I ever given you a reason with anything I've said or perhaps done

to question my faithfulness?

No, forgive me.

Alex...

Where has this jealousy come from?

I always invite you to come. Shall we go with them today?

I'll try.

"Deaf masses, Winged novelties of a blind mistress,

Each day the haughty darlings change, Tumbling down each step with a bang

The idols crowned by her yesterday."

Lord Pushkin! You promised to pay a month ago.

He borrowed a 1,000 rubles six months ago.

Pushkin, how long can this go on? Want to end up in debtors' prison?

Sorry, but I won't print it.

- Why not? - The title is fathomless.

- "The Captain's Daughter"? - Don't beat around the bush.

Mr. Pushkin, it's a serious historical topic.

But you're a kammerjunker. The public will laugh you off.

You should write something simpler, with an original plot.

- Sign mine too, mine too, please. - Thank you.

When you were a hero to them, they devoured every word you wrote.

But times are changing.

How much did he want?

Will you forgive my jealous dreams?

And delirious anxiety for my beloved?

You're faithful so why does it seem

You love filling my imagination Full of dread?

DANGER Surrounded by a crowd of admirers

Why must you be everybody's darling?

And give them all the false hope They desire

Your wonderful gaze, tender or brooding

He's here, he's arrived Pushkin the laureate

Oh, how will this go, it'll be awkward Does he know? Hush, no! What an idiot!

A great talent, a great cuckold He's here, Pushkin the laureate

Oh, how will this go, it'll be awkward Does he know? Hush, no! What an idiot!

- A great talent, a great cuckold - Natalie...

It'll be awkward

A great talent, a great cuckold

Your queen mounted a different steed Cheated with him and repeated the deed

The time has come To tear him off his damn podium

I implore you

Time and space

Give me grace

Return my face

I implore you

Time and space

Have shrunk for me

Return my face

"A gloomy tempest

Obscures the sky

And like a beast

It lets out a cry..."

I'm so happy to be with you, ladies.

Alex, you remember Georges d'Anthès, don't you?

Oh yes, we're both connoisseurs of beautiful ladies.

- Why are you here? - We have good news.

Georges has come to propose to our Katya.

Do you like it?

Very much so.

- It's magnificent. It cost a fortune.

You give me the feeling I'm not welcome in this family.

Alex…

Your feelings, my dear friend, don't deceive you.

Alex.

Please excuse me.

Alex!

Alex, talk to me.

Natalia, let go, I'll kill him right here.

No, I forbid you.

- Then I'll challenge him to a duel. - No! I forbid you.

Why, are you protecting your beloved?

Alex, he sent signs of affection, but I never reciprocated.

- You brought him into our home? - Yes, to marry Katya.

- To kill those rumors. - That's ludicrous!

That's ludicrous, Natalia! It's ludicrous.

I was like him with Countess Vorontsova, I know his kind.

- I know exactly what's on his mind. - I'm not Vorontsova, Alex.

- Alex, why won't you believe me? - How can I?

How can I trust you if I only see you in the morning?

If you gallivant around balls for days?

Alex, I've always invited you. I begged you to come with us each time.

- I've always invited you to come. - Let me go, God damn it.

I won't let you.

Let me go.

Natalia, let me go. Let me go.

Very well, I'll write him a letter.

One that will make him challenge me himself.

- Alex, but what if you die? - I won't die.

"Fear fair hair". But d'Anthès doesn't have fair hair.

"Danger, a long unwanted journey..." Alex, what is this raving nonsense?

It's not nonsense.

Don't you see?! It was foretold: a lost friend...

Wife.

Look, all of it's come true. Look.

Alex, I see, let's...

I see how hard it is to not believe

The things that they speak of

And they'll repeat it And they'll repeat it

Just for fun

You're a passionate fighter You're a believer in freedom

Always mean what you say

And you leap into the fray

But the enemy is such a giant Bigger than you and I

It's so easy to fall into the abyss

An abyss like the mouth of a beast

Take one step, and you're trapped

We're standing on the edge Not holding on

In total darkness

In total darkness

Find my hand And know that I'm here

Even though you can't see me In total darkness

Where everything disappears We're waltzing away

While it's just the two of us In total darkness

In total darkness In total darkness

Don't lose me

In total darkness

Don't lose me

In total darkness Don't lose me

Don't lose me

Don't lose yourself

In total darkness

THE QUEEN OF SPADES

Don't lose yourself

In total darkness

Alex, let's go to bed, you can finish tomorrow.

You go, I'll stay up a little longer.

Alex…

Alex!

Long time no see.

COADJUTOR OF THE ORDER OF THE CUCKOLDS

- Why me, not Zhukovsky? - He'll try to dissuade me.

Run off to the emperor to complain.

I need you.

- But what if... - Brother, I won't die.

Not today.

It's not my fate.

Tell me where he is, now!

Where's Alex?

I haven't the foggiest.

Damn it.

A duel?

I beg you, think of who we could lose!

His carriage is bound for the Chernaya River.

Search the area. Stop that duel.

Move! Go!

Let's begin.

Alex, you've had many duels but never killed a man.

Kostya…

It'll turn you inside out. It's hard to live with.

The die is cast.

About-face.

Attention.

You wounded me. I'm ready.

I'm going to shoot.

- Georges! - Alex!

Did I kill him?

No.

Good.

Good.

- Time out until I recover? - Oh, you goon.

Hang in there.

That's it, just a little further.

We're here, we're here...

We're here.

- Take him, I'll open the door. - Alex!

Alex!

Alex!

Alex!

- What are you doing? - You've got snowy hair.

Hang in there, you hear?

Fair hair?

Alex!

- My lord! - Stay awake, Pushkin!

Alex! Alex! Alex!

Hold on! You hear me? Don't you dare die!

Alex!

Natalia, for Christ's sake, I beg you. Leave us, Leave us.

Doctor, he's in here!

Let me see him!

- I need a towel and water! - I'll fetch them now…

So...

Easy, easy.

Here. Here's the water.

- Well? What are my chances? - Everything will be alright.

You'll rile everyone for years to come.

- Where is he? - Is it true?

- Alex, how are you feeling? - Doctor!

Everyone out, at once!

- His Imperial Highness… - Be right back.

Wait here.

Lower, hang in, hang in.

- Natalia… Nikita... - What?

Get everyone out, let me be with my wife.

- Right, both of you, get out of here! - I'm trying to help...

The lord wants to be left with his wife! Go on!

- Pass the cloudberries. - What?

- Cloudberries… - Yes, one moment...

Here.

Ah, one moment.

Tasty.

You try.

I'll try now…

Sour.

Everything will be alright.

Enough! Natalia, for Christ's sake, I beg you...

Come with me, come with me.

- Hush, hush. - I...

Alex…

Are you feeling better?

Pushkin! Pushkin! Pushkin!

Alex, look!

"Beset by spiritual thirst, I stagger through a gloomy desert,

And before me at the crossroads, Appeared there a six-winged seraph.

With a touch as light as a dream, His feathery fingers closed my eyes.

Wide open his pupils had gazed, Like a startled eagle's eyes might seem.

His arm reached out and touched my ears,

And they were filled with noise and clamors:

I listened to the heavens shake, And angels' flight above the mountains,

Sea monsters' underwater motion, And the vines in the valleys growing.

And he cleaved my chest with a sword, And took out from it my trembling heart,

And seized a coal of blazing heat, And put the fire coal in my chest.

I lay like a corpse in the desert, And I heard the voice of God call out:

Arise, prophet,

And see, and hark,

My will be done on earth,

And, over land and sea embark,

Ignite the people's hearts with words."

THE POET THE STORY OF ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Mr. Zhukovsky.

Yes, young man.

Alexander Pushkin has greatly inspired me, and I...

I wrote this poem about him. Could you read it?

What's your name?

Mikhail Lermontov.

DIRECTED BY FELIX UMAROV

PRODUCERS: PYOTR ANUROV VADIM VERESCHAGIN, GRIGORY STOYALOV

PRODUCERS LEONID VERESCHAGIN, NIKITA MIKHALKOV

SCRIPTWRITERS VASILY ZORKY & ANDREY KURGANOV

WITH FELIX UMAROV

DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY MIKHAIL KHASAYA RGC

ART DIRECTORS ALEXEY PADERIN, SERGEY ZAIKOV

COSTUME DESIGNER TATIANA PATRAKHALTSEVA

MAKEUP ARTISTS VALERIA NIKULINA, YULIA FAZLETDINOVA

CASTING ALLA PETELINA, EKATERINA LOBANOVA

CHOREOGRAPHER OLEG GLUSHKOV

COMPOSER RIAN OTTER

MUSIC PRODUCER ANASTASIA ZDEB

ALEXEY SAMODELKO

EDITOR MARIA LIKHACHOVA