Original subtitles

"Mosfilm"- the U.S.S.R. "Luch" Creative Unit

and "Telcia film" - FRANCE present

LIKA, CHEKHOV'S LOVE

Written by Leonid Malyugin

Directed by Sergei Yutkevich

Director of Photography Naum Ardashnikov

Production Designer A. Vaysfeld

Music composed and played on the piano by Rodion Shchedrin

Please meet...

Pavel Chekhov: actor Lebedev

Yevgenia Chekhova: actress Panova

Alexander Chekhov: actor Bykov

Maria Chekhova: actress Savina

Anton Chekhov: actor Grinko

Lika Mizinova: actress Marina Vlady

Ignaty Potapenko: actor Yakovlev

Gilyarovsky: actor Gallis

Kurbatov: actor Osenev

Painter Ovchinnikova: actress Vasilyeva

Merchant Grivov: actor Kulagin

Father Gerasim: actor Shutov

Peasant: actor Avdyushko

Prompter: actor Tusuzov

"Why is it obligatory for us to stage scenes

that provoke laughter or tears?

Why can't we just show intelligent people and everyday life,

to induce reflection or dissection of everyday events?"

A. Chekhov (from the memoirs of L. Yavorskaya "News" Aug. 31, 1904)

THE SEAGULL

How was the rehearsal?

I don't know: the actors still flub their lines...

Don't worry, my poor Anton, everything will be great.

Did you get the tickets? - I couldn't get to the box office.

You're odd! You should've announced:

"I need Mr. Chekhov's box!" They would've made way for you.

- I can't do that. - Don't worry, I'll try it myself.

I'm a different Chekhov, I can do it.

Fancy that!

A newspaper scribbler turned out to be a genius!

And the genius turned out to be a scribbler!

Don't worry, I'll make money on your "Seagull", 10 rubles at least.

- Let's go. - Wait...

- Where do I make a dinner reservation? - Where's the cheapest.

Dear sister, the cheapest is in a tavern,

but you can't bring actors of the Imperial Theatre there.

At Cubat's or at Palkin's? - Which one's more chic?

- Cubat's, but it's more expensive. - Then Cubat's it is.

To the Nicholayevsky Station. Quick! - See you tonight!

Practice your bows in front of a mirror!

Train N 2 is 15 minutes late.

Are you nervous?

- Is it so obvious? - It's hard to tell with you!

I wish I had your restraint... I couldn't sleep all night.

Do you think my "Seagull" will come down with a crash?

I'm not worried about "The Seagull", I'm thinking of Lika.

How long has it been since?

Do you recall how I introduced you to her?

Then you weren't so eager...

We have a new singing teacher at school.

Do you want to meet her? - Is she pretty?

Very pretty! She has an amazing name: Lika.

I'm wary of pretty women. Beauty's so rarely matched by intellect.

You'll be late for your lessons. - Trying to get rid of me?

What are you writing? - A short story.

That again! When will you write a novel as promised?

Only wealthy people can afford to write novels.

If I could get rich, I'd write an amazing novel for you!

You'll be late!

I almost forgot... I saw Ms. Ovchinnikova yesterday...

She asked you to stop by, she's unwell. - Uh-huh.

Should I bring Lika along?

Bring whomever you want, just leave me alone.

Anton! Firewood's been delivered.

Ask Dad, he's a better expert in it.

He's praying.

They'll have to wait then.

Anton! I only have 50 copecks left

for everything: the food and comfort.

Ask them to come later, I'll try to get some money.

Then how do I pay the grocer?

Ask him for a credit.

I'm ashamed to ask for a credit.

I'm not just anybody's mother, your name's well known.

And he asked you to stop by, he's unwell, but you didn't come.

He's got an incurable disease: gluttony.

Anton! It's for you,

from Active State Councillor Kurbatov

of St. Petersburg.

"I'm staying at "Slavyansky Bazar" and I'm not feeling well."

He's asking you to come over.

That's it! Now there'll be enough for the comfort and everything else.

Active State Councillor...

- Where can I wash my hands? - You want to examine me? For what?

I'm probably neurasthenic like you.

It's useless to fight it, it's a disease of the century.

- Then why did you invite me? - I've got a secret disease.

They're unaware of it in St. Petersburg.

I hold a prominent social position.

Medical confidentiality applies to all classes.

It's a different kind of confidentiality. Please, sit down.

I'm writing a play.

I was considering my options, and decided to go with you.

Forgive my little ruse.

I'm very flattered by your confidence.

- Then let's proceed. - Yes.

"The Edge of the Abyss." Drama in 5 acts.

The cast of characters:

Count Polatov: a tall, imposing looking civil servant;

Mademoiselle de la Belle, a pretty blonde;

Prince Okrysin: the count's distant cousin, quite Asiatic-looking;

Pyotr Lomsky:

very handsome, looks more like an actor than a civil servant.

Act 1.

The drawing room in the Count's house.

There's a vase on the mantelpiece, among other things.

Scene 1.

Enter Lomsky and Mlle de la Belle.

Okrysin, surprised and timidly approaching De la Belle:

May I ask to kiss your hand?

De la Belle, haughtily: Don't feel like lifting my hand.

Okrysin: Your foot then. De la Belle: Yes, you may.

Okrysin bends and kisses the tip of de la Belle's shoe.

Lomsky, with a grin: I don't mean to interfere

with your private affair, but it's not very pleasant to be left out in the cold

and gaze at your caresses!

- Goodbye. - Bye.

Good girls. - If you heard them singing: "Take away my sorrow..."

- Come to our place! - I need to change.

"You look good in anything, dear..."

The curtain falls!

Well...

What do you say, Anton Pavlovich?

Your play's no worse than many others...

but unfortunately, it's no better either.

It doesn't befit your social position.

I appreciate your tactfulness.

- But I didn't treat you. - It's for your time.

I don't charge for literary advice.

Sorry for keeping you. Pleased to have met you.

Hey! Stop!

Stop! Anton! Come with us! There's a fire.

4 houses are burning in Khamovniki. I got to write 200 lines.

I'm paid 5 copecks per line now.

Let's go! - Why should I?

For impressions. You can use them in a story.

Come on! - No, Gil, I'm going to a patient.

- Let's go. - Go ahead!

- You need fasting, not treatment. - I fast when I should.

One can gorge on lean food as well.

You need to diet. - Diet?

Then what to live for?

Tell me...

Do they pay less for funny stories?

- Why do you think that? - Then why you stopped writing them?

When you signed as "Chekhonte" we always read you.

My clerks and I.

Unlike your latest thing called "A Dreary Story".

Who'd wanna read this?

I'll pay you in groceries.

Don't you think this cloud is a bit too loud?

- No, I don't think so.

Nice, very nice. - You like it?

Sometimes I find my paintings...

disgusting.

On to prosaic matters.

What's troubling you? - Life.

Doesn't it seem meaningless to you?

I don't have time to think about it.

Any physical ailments?

Don't we have more interesting things to discuss?

Do you have moments when you don't feel like writing?

It happens.

Pardon my indiscretion, may I ask as a doctor:

why don't you have children?

"A white cat gone missing. The finder will get 5 rubles."

You can buy a cow for that amount!

"A black stallion for sale.

With a certificate."

I wonder how much is for the stallion? - Why do you care?

Reading all sorts of nonsense. Read something truly interesting.

A newspaper should be read in order.

As it was meant to be: to educate the minds!

I've decided to give you a gift.

You liked this picture. Take it, it's yours.

I can't accept such an expensive gift...

If you refuse I'll be deeply offended.

You're putting me in an awkward position.

I can't pay you for the visits, doesn't seem right. We're both artists.

Then how can I thank you?

Only through art.

"Chekhov's book is a sad...

... sad and tragic spectacle of a young talent's suicide...

... a young talent's suicide,

he is dying a slow death in the newspaper realm.

Like all newspaper writers, he is destined

to turn into a squeezed lemon.

And he will die in oblivion in the gutter."

- Bon appetit! - What is it?

Ovchinnikova's latest masterpiece.

Women turn to art when they're unlucky in their personal life.

- Anton! - It all goes away with a first childbirth.

Ugh!

- Hide it! Maybe he won't ask. - He'll ask.

Now let's get acquainted. Dr. Chekhov.

Why are you so gloomy?

I get it, you're tired of waiting and you're starving.

Don't take away the paper! - It'll still be there.

You love to use recent newspapers for wrapping.

What's in the paper?

- A white cat gone missing. - How awful!

Imagine the owners' distress.

Well! Shall we get started?

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name...

Be seated.

For you, Anton, by courier.

- What happened? - Gil got burned in a fire.

Eat first, then go.

A burn is a serious thing, every minute counts.

Will you wait for me? Otherwise I'll never know what your voice's like.

Soprano.

Ah!

He's here!

Attention!

Salute to the front!

Go!

He came, he came, dear Anton Pavlovich!

He came, he came,

dear Anton Pavlovich!

I'm very glad you don't need my medical care...

Drink up!

But it's not one of your best jokes, Gil.

Offended?

Do you think I did it all for myself?

It's for you!

We can't leave you without company on a day like this!

We can't let you be alone on a day like this!

What's so special about today?

- You didn't read "Moscow News"? - I didn't.

Then don't read it!

- Want me to punch him in the face? - Who?

Take your pick:

the reviewer or the editor...

But you said yourself that critics are like horse-flies

which hinder the horse in its plowing of the soil.

Come on, Anton, forget it! All together now!

He came, he came, dear Anton Pavlovich!

Gil!

Give me the paper and let me go.

"WILL DIE IN THE GUTTER"

A. CHEKHOV Died in the gutter in 1889.

- How's Gil? - Healthy as a horse.

- Lika didn't wait for you. - Prudent of her.

Did you eat at Gil's?

- Not hungry. Got any vodka? - No. But you were right.

Mom was lighting up the furnace, and picked up that newspaper...

Nothing interesting in there anyway. - Yes, there was.

Don't get upset. There are many jealous people out there.

Right.

Sorry, Masha, I'd like to be alone.

You think I wasn't sick reading that paper?

I can't believe it: "he'll die in the gutter"!

How would I look at my colleagues,

let alone my boss?

We have a clear case in front of us...

Your brother Alexander began writing even before you.

What's the use?

He drowned it all in drink.

Never mind him, he doesn't know any other trade...

He'll have to bear his cross till the end of his life.

But you're a doctor! A venerable occupation!

You have respectable patients!

You treated an Active State Councillor only yesterday!

My advice: forget that scribbling.

Buy decent furniture. Take a loan to pay for it, and be a doctor!

Be a doctor!

All of Moscow will come to you!

- Father, it's time for tea. - I'm coming! Coming!

"Chew properly," our father used to say. We chewed, walked 2 hours a day,

and washed with cold water, and still became unhappy, useless people."

-From Chekhov's notebooks.

It's so boring, sister,

to waste my time on trifling stories, with friends in taverns,

and even on courting your lovely girlfriends.

So what to do now?

Yes, what now?

It'd be nice to marry a rich woman.

Pity that your Lika's without dowry. - Indeed.

- As they said in old novels... - What they said in old novels?

"He decided to turn his life around."

To the conqueror of Sakhalin!

March happily on land be safe at sea,

and don't lose heart in a storm!

Train N 42 will depart in 20 minutes.

Go ahead, I'll pay and catch up with you.

I need to speak with Ignaty in private.

If anything happens to me, if I'm drowned or something like this

take care of my family.

Whatever the publishers owe me will go to my sister.

She'll also pay my debts.

You know our stingy publishers,

help her get that money. - I'll do everything.

You'll be back safe and sound, but I still can't understand this folly.

Why this dreadful Sakhalin?

Didn't you ever want to go to the edge of the world?

When I was a schoolboy.

How can you leave now when you're in the papers?

- Maybe that's why I'm leaving. - Who remembers that vile article?

Just today, I read with some pleasure,

that you and I are Russia's trendiest writers now.

Of course, Leo Tolstoy doesn't count?

Maybe I shouldn't be leaving.

When you get bored along the way, read my story.

I will.

Train N 42 will depart in 15 minutes.

Anton!

Gil! Gil!

- Where from? - Everywhere. Hello.

From the Volga, the Don, and the Kuban...

- Look at that suntan! - Here's for you from our homeland.

- What is it? - For the road...

- A smoked goose. - Oh!

Pork fat, two bottles of wine from the Don.

Cured fish.

Much appreciated, Gil!

Thank you so much. - But of course!

Masha! Ignaty promised he wouldn't let you get bored.

I'll do my best to entertain her.

- What about me? - I'd be honored.

Are you also going to be bored?

I'll be missing you.

With so many admirers, you wouldn't have time for boredom.

- Can we talk privately? - Of course.

- Excuse me. - Excuse me, Masha.

I was going to give you an embroidered road pillow.

- But you lacked diligence? - I lacked sentimentality.

Here's your brutally masculine gift. - What is it?

Drink this bottle on the saddest day of your trip.

I'll drink it on the Pacific coast

when we'll be 10,000 km apart.

This will be your saddest day?

"My good Tungus friends,

I see mileposts, migrants, prisoners moving to their destination.

I also meet vagrants. The shaky motion makes me sick.

The wind and rain has made my face look like fish scales.

This Moscow gentleman now looks like a rogue.

But the view of the Yenisei has amply rewarded me for all the troubles...

I stood on its bank and thought

about a full, intelligent and bright life that will come here eventually.

The people here are good.

In Siberia, people aren't afraid to speak up.

There's no one to arrest them and exile them any farther.

My God, Russia is so rich with good people!

The mighty rivers, taiga, coachmen, wildlife,

and the torment of the abominable roads,

all this is so great that I can't describe it.

Tell Lika that her bottle is still intact

though three times I was close to becoming a headless horseman..."

"Last night I dreamed of her, I wonder if I've fallen in love".

Not so fast!

"By the way, how is she, that seductive maiden?

Whom Ignaty Potapenko is courting: you or Lika?

Or he finds time for both?"

Oh, Lika, fatal beauty, you were confused and you confused everyone.

l don't know how to untangle it.

Life is so complicated.

Maybe life is simpler than what we think of it?

Let's go to the platform.

It's still early. It's windy there and I've a cold.

Go ahead!

I see that you want to be alone.

Admit that your Melikhovo was a silly idea.

You left Moscow for this wilderness...

11 km away from the railroad!

Sorry, I don't get it.

I adore nature myself but only in a good weather.

And I'm blissfully happy here.

After my Sakhalin labors, my Moscow flat with its intrigues,

vanity and hypocrisy seemed to me so petty-bourgeois and boring,

I was ready to bite. - This trip of yours to Sakhalin...

will certainly adorn your biography, and you'll be called very original.

But now you realize that Sakhalin's of no use or interest to anybody?

No.

Sakhalin is useful and interesting.

Our people made amazing feats while exploring it.

And you're saying: "It's of no use."

I saw everything there.

I got up at five each morning, and retired late at night.

I visited all the villages, conducted a census, talked to everyone.

We've let millions of people rot in prisons

for no reason, casually, barbarously.

We drove people in chains, through the cold thousands of miles,

infected them with syphilis, made them depraved, multiplied criminals...

And we blamed everything on red-faced prison wardens.

I saw a flogging too,

after which I dreamed of the executioner

and the awful whipping bench.

That's when Sakhalin seemed like hell to me.

What a weakling I'd have been now if I stayed home.

Maybe I've matured after the trip, or got wiser, who knows!

Or maybe gone crazy? You waste your life on short stories.

While you're agonizing over a single line, I write a page.

- Everyone writes as he can. - Of course, of course!

Of course, you write better than me.

Who sees the difference? Just you and I.

Critics always put our names next to each other.

Trying hard for the public's sake makes no sense.

The public reads us and says patronizingly:

"Nice, talented, good writers."

And it will be like this till we die.

Immortality is tempting but elusive.

Is it worth sacrificing the joys of life for it?

You could be left with nothing.

Breathe. Breathe again.

Breathe.

How long have you got it? - A few weeks.

Why didn't you come to me sooner?

Get dressed.

Take a tablespoon of this medicine 3 times a day.

It should help.

Sir, I beg you for Christ's sake.

- Well! Goodbye then. - Thank you, doctor.

Lika!

Masha, we have guests! - Who?

- Lika and Potapenko. - Splendid!

Lika!

Lika! Stop!

Masha! They've brought their own food!

Just like children!

- And Christmas tree decorations. - And champagne!

- My New Year's gift to you. - Your new novella?

- Even better. A novel! - Wow!

- Please! - Merci!

Attention, please!

Look at this bottle with reverence.

It's traveled 30,000 km!

You promised to drink it on the Pacific coast.

Couldn't find a suitable company.

The bottle that made such a trip deserves only a refined company!

Wait, Anton, before drinking to the New Year...

Let's say goodbye to the last year!

For Masha. For me.

For Lika.

For Dad and Mom.

For you, Ignaty. - Thanks.

Cheers to the last year!

- Masha! - Anton.

What kind of sounds I hear...

They captivate my heart.

And on the wings of Zephyr,

They fly to us as if from Heaven.

The leaves are whispering among themselves

in the moonlight.

Believe this sound is a play of imagination.

No wonder, you feel so unwell.

No! No!

Train N 2 is 15 minutes late.

Masha, my friend! My little sister!

I've been missing you.

You've come right for the premiere. It's tonight.

I know it but not from your brother.

Once I'd heard about the premiere, I decided to go back to Russia.

I packed in a single day.

I was afraid of being late.

Not sure if I can live up to your expectations.

You certainly will.

I'm lenient to him now.

Please.

Please.

After we've brought in your luggage I'd suggest a little walk.

- With you, wherever you like. - I won't come along.

Nothing has changed since we parted.

You're still modest and noble, Masha is still tactful.

It's not tact, it's wisdom.

"It's best to avoid describing the characters' state of mind.

It should be made clear through their actions.

There's no need for an abundance of characters.

One should concentrate on just two: him and her..."

A. Chekhov (in a letter to his brother Alexander, May 10, 1886)

Do I look older?

You've got prettier. If it's even possible.

Hooray! You've learned to pay compliments.

I've had no news from you.

I found out about your play from acquaintances.

What's your play about?

About acquaintances.

The play turned out so well that you got conceited,

and stopped writing to me.

No.

I just wanted to see you.

I had nothing to write to you about, because everything stays the same.

The same?

I'll still be hopelessly loving you.

Am I going to be that foolish again?

What are you thinking about? Had an idea for a short story?

Oddly enough, I was thinking about you.

- And I was thinking about you. - We're even then.

Do you recall our walk in the grove?

When was this? Seems like a century ago.

And then we ran to that enchanting lake.

The good old days...

There was a day, when I was seriously contemplating suicide.

I wrote you a farewell letter,

bequeathing you my diary...

"It might be useful for a humorous story."

And then, as usual, I acted against my intentions...

I burned the diary and saved myself.

For what's sake?

All this time, I have felt guilty towards you.

Let's not poke in old wounds.

Today's such a special day for you.

I've lived through a drama, you've written a drama...

So we're even.

Please.

- I'll see you at the premiere? - Of course.

- See you tonight. - See you.

Where to, sir?

Wherever you want.

- I came to bother you again. - Is Potapenko with you?

No, his wife took him to a spa.

- And you're upset? - Terribly.

I got myself a new admirer. - Who is it?

- Uncle Gil. - Ah Gil!

- This mushroom's mine! - Stop!

Now, everyone's on their own!

The mushroom likes one-on-one meetings.

You know what's best about mushrooms?

That you can drink a bucketful with them!

Come on! Let's go!

Why you so seldom come to Melikhovo?

Mom's afraid there are bohemians here.

Paradise!

If you only knew how I'm tired of people!

Especially, of my admirers.

I find it hard to believe that you're dreaming of Melikhovo,

while being at the symphony hall in a new blue dress

which, they say, really becomes you.

You're even informed of my clothes?

Potapenko mentions you in every letter, as if I cared about his happiness.

No need for such irony.

He can't compete with you.

Hey! Where are you?

Gil is coming...

to scare away birds and humans alike.

Why don't you come here without a bodyguard?

Come alone, we'll have long walks and talk for hours.

I'd be good for you and I to go on a trip,

far, far away, but your classes will begin soon...

- I quit the school. - Didn't get along with the superiors?

- No, the students.

Listening to out-of-tune singing all day long is intolerable.

Have you ever thought of doing something about your voice?

You could become a great singer.

Have you thought about this? - I have.

For serious studies, I'd need to go to Italy or France.

- Right. - With what money?

It's too late anyway.

So what are you going to do?

I'll get an office job and will sing at my relatives' birthday parties.

There's a big crocodile inside you, Lika.

And really I do well to follow common sense

and not my heart which you have bitten.

It's hard to tell when you're joking or speaking seriously.

But seriously, why don't we take advantage of your freedom

and go to the Caucasus together?

Take the trouble to book us the tickets.

Gladly.

Now you realize that this is not a joke?

Tickets aren't a joking matter.

What kind of tree is this?

An elm.

How nice.

A dream.

Yes.

- Did you call? - This dress needs ironing.

Yes, madam.

Lika, don't bother with the tickets to the Caucasus.

I can't leave Melikhovo.

I've been appointed a cholera doctor in the region.

There's a lot of work.

I've been given 25 villages, and no helpers.

I despise cholera, but I'm supposed to be afraid of it like everyone else.

There's neither the time nor the mood for writing.

I wanted to write something sweet to you,

but I was afraid you'd mistake that for irony.

Have a good time and don't forget us too soon.

Remember, how you and I were running to the lake?

I think about it as my youth.

LOPASNYA STATION

My God, what a rain!

Are you happy I came alone? - I am.

I couldn't tell.

I must've again interfered with some charitable activity.

But I suddenly wanted to hang onto your arm,

so it would ache for the next three months.

Where's your carriage?

I came on horseback. On my Rocinante.

- You used to joke more gracefully. - Alas, I'm not joking.

The road is a sea of mud, and our Melikhovo's become an island.

Clever. Well, let's go look for a coach.

I've searched around, no one wants to go there.

- Let's wait it out inside the station. - Wait for what?

Until the rain stops.

I thought, until a sleigh path is established.

Your character's like sour gooseberries.

Hello, doctor!

Just a minute. Please, wait.

Hello.

Haven't seen you in a while. Your stomach doesn't hurt anymore?

- Doesn't hurt, thank you. - God bless you.

I meant to come to you to say goodbye...

Didn't have time. - How far you're going?

- To Siberia. - Where to exactly?

- Siberia is vast. - Where's better.

You've been to Siberia?

- They say, life's better there. - It varies.

Can't be any worse than here.

Good luck!

Thank you, doctor.

Why on earth I came here? I thought I'd be greeted properly.

Why are you angry? It wasn't me who made the road impassable.

Why you fled from Moscow into this wilderness?

You wanted to emulate Leo Tolstoy? - Well! What nonsense, Lika.

Got into your den to eat, sleep, and write for pleasure.

Yes, I eat and sleep, but so do you,

despite being so ephemeral.

As for writing, my charming lady, you said it,

because you've never experienced it yourself.

This pleasure takes up your whole life. I was thinking about you...

How come? There were no patients or stories to write?

In between the stories.

You have 10,000 virtues, and only one fault:

you don't have a work you love,

and you don't feel the need for it.

My God, you're so rational!

I wish you could be irrational just for a day, a minute!

Only idlers or hopeless egoists can afford to be irrational.

And I... - You...

Never mind! Everything's so clear.

I played the role of the cheese which you refused to eat.

But yet all this time, you quietly wanted to taste it.

You just don't love me.

And you know what? Buy me a ticket back to Moscow.

Yes.

Put it there.

Thanks.

- Hello. - Hi, wandering soul! You were sick?

I didn't have the time.

- You haven't written to me in ages. - I've been writing for mankind.

You're joking, and we've been worried.

Thanks.

But seriously, I was sick.

- With what? - It wasn't physical but emotional sickness.

I felt so down as never before.

I felt so lonely but I found my cure at the writing desk.

It was the best autumn of my life.

Loneliness is a beautiful thing once you've called it privacy.

Masha, congratulate me: I've finished my book on Sakhalin!

The book is fine but we exist too.

Don't grumble, I wasn't carousing or chasing rabbits.

I couldn't abandon the manuscript!

By the way, I'm starving. - Let's go home, I'll feed you.

To hell with your thrifty meals! Look in the window:

there's a coach, and the horses are impatiently beating their hooves.

Let's pick up Lika and go to a posh restaurant!

Lika left for Paris yesterday.

Paris?

Where did she get the money?

Potapenko loaned her.

Ah, I see!

"If you're afraid of loneliness, don't get married".

- from Chekhov's notebooks

Yes, you've missed Lika. And you'll regret it!

Did you plan to marry me to her?

You really like a caged bird, samovar,

the scent of glycerin soap, all these signs of a married man's flat?

Stop! This is stupid!

Don't you realize you were running away from your happiness!

You'll remain a hermit, all alone, call it privacy if you like!

You forget that I already have medicine as my lawful wife,

and literature as my mistress.

So it was fine to abandon Lika but not your book?

She loved you so much!

Loved me?

Yes, loved you!

But you cured her of this forever. You pathetic doctor!

It's not so simple, Masha.

Oh, Lika!

Yes, she's smart, but she's spoiled,

skittish and therefore likes attention.

And I...

Try to understand...

A writer is not a confectioner, not a cosmetician, not an entertainer.

You're reasoning, and she was crying!

You should've seen her sobbing at the station!

Don't torture yourself. She didn't go to the middle of nowhere!

In Paris, one quickly forgets. - Don't talk platitudes. Shame on you!

She went to study singing, she wants to become a singer.

Oh...

Soprano.

Only here you realize man's greatness!

You would've been here without me.

If you hesitated longer I would've found another guide.

How was your premiere?

Everything went great: ovations, curtain calls...

The curtain went up 14 times.

The reviews were so great, I'm embarrassed to quote them.

One of them even compared me to Chekhov.

- I hope it was in your favor? - Yes, believe it or not.

The reviewer notes that Chekhov writes pessimistically,

And Potapenko - optimistically.

Do you know the title of the article? "Vigorous Talent."

Enough about me. How have you been?

You worked hard, and I kept on singing.

Solo?

We're saying wrong things.

Because we aren't talking about the main thing.

Isn't your premiere the main thing?

Where did you get that irony? His influence?

Please, ladies and gentlemen.

Be careful on the steps.

Now we're on the 2nd floor of the tower.

It offers a magnificent panorama of the entire city.

On your right is the famous Notre Dame Cathedral.

Russian tourists! It's impossible to escape our compatriots even here!

- Are we supposed to hide? - Alas, I have some renown.

And farther ahead is the Pantheon,

the tomb of all famous French people.

The Eiffel Tower is the tallest man-made structure in the world...

My wife told me...

that if I leave her...

she will kill herself.

The construction of the tower took more than two years.

It was supervised by the project's author

French engineer Alexandre Gustave Eiffel.

The tower consists of 12,000 pieces.

They're connected by 2.5 million rivets.

The tower is considered to be... - Sorry, I missed that...

How many rivets?

Why are you silent?

I'm listening.

Trying to remember how many thousands of rivets?

The tower is a symbol of the technological progress of mankind.

It's used for research and tourist purposes.

And for suicide.

Maybe I should kill myself if you don't leave her?

Right now!

And tomorrow's papers will write about a young Russian woman.

I'll be famous at last!

Lika! Stay away!

Don't worry.

I have no right to kill myself. - What does it mean?

- Whatever suits you! - It's like a Dostoevsky novel!

I'll end up shooting myself!

What Eiffel is building now?

Eiffel isn't building anything now.

He participated in the construction of the Panama Canal...

A year ago, he was sued, along with other contractors, for misuse of funds.

Man is so great and so pathetic!

Lika, why are you saying this to me?

I haven't made up my mind yet. - I was speaking of Eiffel.

You don't have to decide anything.

Life will decide for us.

Everything will stay the same.

Nothing will happen to either me or your wife.

And you won't shoot yourself.

Because you look at life optimistically.

There's an observatory and a beacon at the top of the tower.

No further questions? 15 minutes for a tour, and then we're going down.

No further questions.

Let's go down.

"I'm fed up with Paris. There was a nice Russian family, but they left.

They spoke of you in awe... asked me about your beliefs -

if you are a Marxist. Here everyone says that "The Seagull"

is based on my life, and you also did a good job on a certain someone".

from L. Mizinova's letter to Chekhov

- Not ready yet? It's time to go to the theatre. - I'm coming!

- My God! You ate nothing. - I'll make it up at dinner.

Yes! Come in.

You're dawdling, and I'm ready.

- Good evening! - Good evening.

I have everything ready.

I only need to put in the names of distinguished guests. Here goes:

Yesterday, the Imperial Alexandrinsky Theatre held a successful premiere

of Anton Chekhov's new play "The Seagull."

I'll put "triumphant" instead of "successful"!

Sasha, what you're doing? Anton will be unhappy.

You want some other journalist to benefit from Anton's success?

No way! They reserved 200 lines for my review.

Listen to this: "The play's plot is novel and original..."

Anton!

Do you know? The Grand Duke's coming.

Admit it, you're shaking in your shoes?

Hello!

- Oh! Hello. - Good evening.

Privy Councillor Kurbatov. Don't forget his new rank.

I need to see who's accompanying the Grand Duke, it's very important.

Hello! Congratulations on your premiere!

Congratulations on your promotion!

Thank you!

- Why do you always... - Why do you always wear black?

- This is mourning... - This is mourning for my life.

- I am unhappy. - I am unhappy.

- Why? I don't understand. - You are healthy.

You are healthy. Though your father isn't rich, he has a good competency.

My life is far harder than yours.

I'm only paid 23 rubles a month, minus pension-fund deductions,

but I don’t wear mourning.

It's not about the money. Poor men are often happy.

The Grand Duke's arrived. Grand Duke!

My mother, my two sisters, my little brother and I

must all live somehow on my salary of 23 rubles.

We have to eat and drink. What about tea and sugar?

And tobacco? Answer me that, if you can.

- The play will soon begin. - Yes.

Nina Zarechnaya is going to act in Konstantin's play.

She loves me, loves me not?

Loves me, loves me not?

Loves me, loves me not?

You see! My mother doesn’t love me.

Why should she? She likes life and love and bright clothes.

I'm already 25 - this reminds her that she's no longer young.

- When I'm away... - When I'm away...

- She is only 32. - She is only 32,

in my presence, she's 43, and she hates me for that!

She also knows that I despise the theatre.

She adores it, she thinks that she serves mankind, serves a sacred art.

But I think the modern theatre is a vehicle of convention and prejudice!

When the curtain rises on that little three-walled room,

these great talents, these high priests of art

show us people in the act of eating, drinking, loving,

walking, and wearing their coats,

and attempt to extract a moral from their insipid talk...

a tiny, digestible, household-friendly moral...

When they give us, under a thousand different guises,

the same old stuff, then I must run from it

as Maupassant ran from the Eiffel Tower,

which was crushing his brain by its vulgarity.

Come, come here.

- Holidays? - Holidays.

Thank God! I've been missing you, Masha.

- Still nothing from Lika? - No.

What are you doing, rascal? I'm planting, you're pulling it out!

- Sorry, I haven't noticed. - Haven't noticed!

You're somewhere else!

You have a foolishly blissful look, you must've written something.

A novel? A story?

If it's not a secret, what are you writing? - A play.

- Way to go! Not scared? - I'm scared.

I'm not good at plays. I wrote them the old way but we need new forms.

What's the play about?

I want to write a story of a girl.

She lived happily, loved, dreamed of fame and suddenly fell into a whirlpool.

Life's worn her out...

I have the play ready in my mind.

I only need to write it down.

I'm almost done.

I'm still working on the ending.

How should it end?

You know, I received a letter from Lika a while ago.

- And hiding it from me? How could you? - She asked me not to show you.

I've thought it over and decided that you ought to know everything.

"Dear Masha,

I've long forgotten what joy or peace look like.

When Ignaty had left I wanted to kill myself.

Ignaty probably loves me, but he loves himself more.

He only wants pleasures in life, and ignores unpleasant truths..."

"His wife stops at nothing..."

Here: "I left and settled in the country,

to avoid people, their questions and sympathy.

I lived here all alone, I was only getting letters from my mother,

since I didn't give my address to anyone else.

I wrote her funny, carefree letters. She knows nothing.

Then my baby girl was born in horrible conditions, and then she died.

I'm back in Paris, I'm singing, getting old and thin...

It's cold, damp, and lonely here. Life isn't worth a damn.

Don't show this letter to anyone, even to Anton. Lika."

I feel sorry for her.

I feel even more sorry for you, though it's all your fault.

Oh, venerable olden shadows,

that swarm over this lake at night, lull us to sleep

and bring us dreams of what will be in 200,000 years.

There'll be nothing in 200,000 years.

Then let us see that nothing!

It's fashionable now!

Savages!

Loggerheads!

These civilized barbarians, dropouts, aristocratic oafs are laughing!

By the way, the Grand Duke hasn't been laughing.

- He's crying. - Stop it!

Curtain!

I'm sorry!

I overlooked the fact that writing plays and acting them

are for the selected few!

Gentlemen! There are more of us here than in the audience!

- It's the intermission already? - Not yet, my dear!

I've had enough of this!

Gentlemen, let's have a shot of vodka instead!

We must drink to forget.

Otherwise we'll dream of "men, lions and partridges"!

You have a light?

This "Seagull" is neither fish nor foul!

Merci.

Chekhov!

- Did you hear? What an audience! - It was quiet at Ostrovsky's plays.

- He knew how to please the audience. - They write nonsense these days!

Yes, my dear, literature and theatre are two different things.

"We need new forms." Who needs them: you, me, or the audience?

Hey! Pull up the lake!

Pull up the trees!

Bring down the garden. That's it.

How many times I told you not to let strangers onto the stage!

Come on, Lika! Take it easy.

Calm down.

Dear Masha,

you still have the strength to comfort others!

Don't let these fools see our suffering.

I hate them!

Anton dear!

Sit down.

They're scribbling. Pen bandits!

"A crash with fatalities at the Alexandrinsky Theatre."

Even His Highness' presence didn't help. Let's drink!

If we can't drink to its success, let's drink to its memory.

Well! To the newly departed!

It's not your fault, brother,

that you're ahead of your time. People got small.

They can't appreciate either a novel or a play.

How you perfectly put it yourself:

"What is the life of each one of us? A subject for a short story."

Excuse me, you want to share the ride? We're going the same way.

Or you aren't ready yet?

- Go ahead! I'll wait till the end. - Why wait? May I?

The game is over. Why delay the publication?

To your health.

- Go, Sasha. - Go ahead, I'll catch up.

I have to write about it, or else they'll fire me.

That's it!

Forgive the bastard.

- You're leaving soon? - I don't know.

- See you later? - Uh-huh.

Champagne? Cognac?

I don't care.

I understand, sir.

- I've been looking for you. - No, Lika...

I don't need consolation. I just need to learn how to write plays.

Maybe I never will. - My God! What are you saying?

What you've written is wonderful!

Oh no!

No! If you only knew how wonderful it is!

And how I'm grateful to you for everything!

What you've written is about me and you,

about happiness and sorrow.

It's about that unexplainable and unattainable love,

because we all make mistakes,

and don't follow what life dictates us. - Lika!

My dear!

My love!

I loved you, but you didn't love me.

It's nobody's fault.

But I'm happy.

I'm happy that I could breathe the same air with you.

Oh, I'm so proud of you!

Goodbye now!

"Why Hamlet was so worried about afterlife visions,

when life itself is filled with far more horrible sights?"

- from Chekhov's notebooks

90, 45,

47.

Duck. Double.

- So! - 86.

For you.

- Mom, pour me some tea. - Oh, Anton Pavlovich!

Your Melikhovo is always on my way.

Mrs. Chekhov's pies are so delicious!

- Help yourself. - Thanks!

The coachman drove carefully? Nothing's damaged?

- All intact. - 70.

Thank God, everything went well! We were so worried.

- I wasn't worried at all. - 52.

If the actors of the Imperial Theatre are involved, it'll be great.

- How many curtain calls? - 50.

- Wait! How many calls? - I didn't count.

Why haven't you brought Masha and Lika along?

- The road's so bad! - You're right...

Tell me how it was.

I'll tell you tomorrow. I'm very tired.

Have a rest, son.

Now when your play's going well, maybe we'll have some money.

- Of course, Mom. - God bless...

I recall Anton when he was still a student...

Over tea in the morning, he would suddenly become pensive...

Sometimes he'd look straight at me, but seemed so distant...

Then he'd take out a notebook and would start writing something.

And then he'd become pensive again.

-Yes. - 86, 80.

[Indistinct chatter]

Every night I dream that you're looking at me and don't recognize me.

It's so nice here, so warm and cozy.

You're a writer, I'm an actress.

We’ve both been sucked into the whirlpool.

I know now what matters in our work.

What matters for an actor or a writer

is not fame or glitter,

but the ability to endure.

To be able to bear one's cross and have faith!

I have faith and it's not so painful now.

And when I think of my calling,

I'm not afraid of life.

"I anticipate happiness, I already see it.

Here it is, happiness, getting closer, I can hear its footsteps.

And if we won't see it, won't know it, what's the harm?

Someone else will..." A. Chekhov

THE END