Original subtitles

There once were three friends in Saint-Petersburg.

(The song)

One of them died in accident.

The second was hanged.

And the third one...

The Police Dept. Case

Nickname: Maksim. SD. Leninist. Arrested in 1910. Living in capitals and in

industrial districts: prohibited. Second arrest: 1912, conducting bolshevik

actions. Escaped. Arrested in Kazan. Banished to Siberia. March 25 1914:

escaped.

The Return of Maksim

Written and directed by

G. Kozintsev & L. Trauberg

In summer of 1914 Saint-Petersburg lived its usual life.

This day the State Duma was in session.

...the discussion of donation to the Noble Bank. According to the report of 1913 we

divide our stock into...

- There's a lady asking for you.

�such parts: Aksharumov - 150 shares, Paramonov...

Helena! The new "Pravda"?

The new, indeed.

Hello, my dear friend. So you managed to escape?

Yep. - Good to see you.

Did it finish? - It did.

The strike on the Nevsky factory goes on. Workers demand cancellation of the

order for anchors for mines. Six workers were fired after their refusal to stay

overtime for this work. The others started this strike as a manifestation of solidarity.

How's our inquiry? - We need 33 signatures. But there're only

5 of us. Where do we get the rest?

We need to punish them! - Yeah, punish!

Punish everybody!! Punish! Punish! Punish!

By the law, of course. - But punish?

Sure! Yes!!

Six workers were fired, which led to... - If we will make inquiries about every six

workers, we will go mad. No, no, and no.

You see, you do not chop mutton, you slice it� with gristles. And then it's gonna

give sap. And then you make pies with onions, parsley, greens...

Cancellation of the Navy order...

You're mad! One dosn't cancel the Navy order!

How can you talk about aviation? Aviation is fantasy. You can't compare an airplane

to a bicycle. I personally...

The strike of solidarity...

Strike, strike, strike! Nothing but excitement and fantasies. You're not

gonna make it, gentlemen. Who's speaking?

Rodichev.

I must hurry.

People representatives! - Let's go, then.

So they went to an outlying district.

So there will be no inquiry? - No.

Pity. We'll think of something.

Take your leaflet, Sergei. Print it, it's ok. - But this order was the military one.

Yeah, probably. - Why "probably"? Comrades, its our main

task to explain to people, that this was a military order. We must remember what

Lenin wrote: workers of Saint-Petersburg should know that they are being pushed

into slaughter so that industrialists and merchants get their profits. How many

strikes are today? - Seven.

Good. Where? - At Yablonsky's, at Kofel's, on Obukhovsky,

on Nevsky... - This Nevsky strike we'll pick out as

the one connected to the military order. Publish it in "Pravda".

There's a weak strike committee on the Nevsky factory. Mensheviks can get

in touch with them. We should send someone there.

Maybe Artemy?

No, he's changeable, we need some one tougher.

What about Fyodor? - What Fyodor?

He came from afar. - Oh, from afar... I remember! Ok. What

does he need to start? - Not much: addresses for communication

and a good guitar. - He's unpretentious. Well, bless him for

this work and give him a good guitar as party property.

So comrade Fyodor started his work.

(The song)

Room 6.

Missed!

What the hell! I didn't miss for 26 years. And now they stand behind and prevent

me from the shot. And now he'll get this straight shot.

I don't get it. - I missed on purpose. That was turner

Efremov's lesson. 7th in the corner.

Comrades, comrades! - Silence!

Sit down, comrade. - Six workers were fired.

This is not about those workers. - Comrades, Marx, Karl Marx wrote to

Engels in 1862 that people need time and possibilities for self-development. You

know Marx badly. I understand, that you're a strike committee, a bunch of

practitioners, but every practice needs theoretic basis. So we, people of theory,

came to help. So comrades, let's do some serious work. We are talking about tactics

of Social Democracy. What are you doing with my guitar?

I think, comrade would like to talk about Social Democracy in the other room.

I insist, that such greenhorns with their stupid guitars wasn't in the way of our

resolution. - How dare you insult our comrade?!

No offense taken for the guitar. You can try, it's very good. And about your

resolution� How can someone be in the way of the resolution?

Correct! - Absolutely correct! Comrade is

so to say... - Neophyte.

Yep. He adjoins conscious activities for the first time, and he get's it. May I read

our resolution? - Yes, sure.

Resolution. The workers' organizations of the district consider that the strike on

Nevsky factory, that started in the wrong time without enough possibilities, should

be finished, and the workers should return to their duties without any

subtraction from their fees. - But how's that?

Friends, believe me, now everything is against us. Our cash desk is empty.

Industrialists are too powerful. The public opinion is against us. Only time is for us.

Patience is the main thing, comrades. - Yes.

Well, if there are no other resolutions, we should vote for this one.

What do you mean, "no other"? There is! Let me speak. You are the people of

theory, but let me speak for the practitioners.

Comrades, we lose time! - You said, that patience is the main thing,

that time is for us. Our strike committee considers that such strikes are inevitable

due to awful working conditions. Strikes doom workers to deprivation, but are the

powerful means of protest and revolutionary education of people.

The Nevsky factory strike is an example of proletarian's solidarity. We need changes

in the organization of work. Workers of the Nevsky factory will come back to

work only if their six fired comrades will be renewed, the military order will be

cancelled, their fees will be 15% higher, and the 8-hour working day will be

established. - That's unbelievable. No Social

democrate... - Sorry, that was our deal.

No deals! We are no rats to squeak in the underground!

Sure, you're no rats. But I think, that every resolution must be voted.

Right! Let's vote! - Let me say! I demand stopping of this

scandalous practice! Who is for the first resolution? For the

second one? Majority. - Let me make an amendment.

Please do. - I offer to delete the paragraph about the

8-hour working day. It's no use, we tried many times.

And we'll continue trying till they agree. Who's for the amendment? Minority.

And second of all: let's substitute "inevitable" for "take place" and add "to

our regret". - Yep.

"To our regret, strikes take place". There's no change in meaning, only in attitude.

I'm against! We don't need no sympathy. We don't sympathize ourselves for making

strikes. Who's for "to our regret"? Minority.

Excuse me, I have some amendments too. Because there's a repetition in our

resolution. - It's a pleonasm.

A pleonasm, a repetition! Here: "Strikes doom workers to deprivation, but are the

powerful means" Why this "but"? I offer to leave only the part before

"deprivation". - Hell with it.

Yes, I'm for that too. Together with "deprivation". "Strikes are inevitable

because they are a powerful means of protest and revolutionary education of

people". Short and clear, and without these.. ehm, pleonasms.

You don't listen to us, we'll leave! - OK, I vote for the resolution in general.

Excuse me, one last amendment. You want to be illiteral fanatics. But you must

be logical. What's the use of this "military order"?

So what? - What difference does it make? Cut the

word "military" out. - And you'll stop your amendments?

Yes. - All right. Let's vote.

I'm against! There is a difference! Can't you see that it's military? Factories these

days fulfill namely military orders. It smells like war! And you want to cut this

word out! We'll fight with you not for a word, but for a single letter!

That's mockery! Suckers! I'm marxist since 1902, I don't need your lectures!

Marx wrote to Engels that people need time and possibilities for self-

development. We leave! But we will slam the door!

So long! By the way, as for that letter. It was written not by Marx to Engels, but by

Engels to comrade Zorge. And there was not a period, but a comma, and then goes

this part, that people get those possibilities only if they move ahead by

themselves. I learned not easy and not long ago, but I see when you begin to

distort facts. What are you doing with the guitar? We'll vote alone.

Let's vote!

Majority. So, comrades, the strike will go on. This order for anchors will not be

fulfilled on the Nevsky factory. - That's right.

Semyon? What happened?

All details for anchors were taken out somewhere from the Nevsky factory.

That's bad. That means the order will be fulfilled, and we will just strike.

Well, there's no point in talking, then.

If only we could find out, which factory will fulfill this order. Then we could start

another strike there. - "If only!" Only owners know that.

There's one man who knows. There he is, son of a bitch, beating everyone in

billiards. But he won't tell. - Show me.

Look, there he is, near the desk. Office scum.

Swine. We can't touch him. - Can't we?

No. - What kind of man is he?

(the song)

You're losing. - We'll see who's gonna laugh last.

(the song) Fumbler! - Who's fumbler? Look.

Game. - I'm not used to such billiards.

Go sit under the table and get used. - I know him for 26 years and he's still

joking. - I'm serious, you'll have to sit there.

Go, go. - Can I give 3 rubles instead? I'm a

hereditary turner, it's a shame. - What? (laughs and mocks him) Turner! I

know you people. You're all strikers! Go under the table.

(the song continues)

You're such a player! - You have money?

I do. - Show me. Your money will be mine. Give

me three rubles and go under the table. - What is he doing? It's a shame!

Let me look how you decide his destiny?

(the song continues) No more rates.

How do you hold the cue? Hell, it's not a rifle.

Politicians!

So, if I roll two balls, and win I'll have your 3 rubles and the old man gets from

under the table. - Okay.

And if roll 8 balls? - 8? Well, then I'll sit there!

Game, you scum!

You want to cheat?

No, no cheating! I'd not dare! It's an accident.

I don't care, you can't talk to people. Give me my three rubles and go under the

table. You'll know how to mock workers.

How dare you shout at my best friend? - He's mocking the workers.

He jokes! You said he's a joker! - I did? Well, he's not that kind of a joker.

So are you! You're a joker too? - I am.

You see? The game goes on!

Vaska, bring us a dozen of bears!

I pay! - I pay!

I pay! - I pay!

I pay! - Let's split it!

Split it!

To Platon! The king of Saint-Petersburg's billiards! Hooray!

Thanks, kids. You're good people, though you strike and protest against our

director. - He's a shitty director! If you were

a director...

He doesn't need to, he's more important. All orders go through him.

Yep, through me.

Who runs the main book? He does! - Yep, I run the main book!

For instance, why does your factory strike?

Because of the anchors for mines. - See, because of the anchors. Let's drink!

Let's drink!

Who wrote that order? He did! Yep, I did!

Who made a consignment note? He did! Who runs everything?

I do! You're a clever man, here's to you!

And still, only the director knows, where did the order go!

Lie! I know, too. But it's a secret. - Right.

He doesn't know, that's why it's a secret. - There're no secrets from me on

the factory. I know, but I won't tell. I must keep the secret. You won't find out!

Right! Let's drink! - Let's drink, yeah.

If you'd want to tell don't tell me. I'm not interested.

Well, I wouldn't tell him, but you... - To hell with it, I'm not listening.

You'll have to listen, since I want to tell you. - Hell with it, I say!

Come here! You fool! - Let's drink!

Let's drink!

On Severnoye. - You lie! They never made mines there.

So, go and check! - It's not enough just to check. All workers

on Severnoye must know. - How will they know?

That's how.

That's why we made this dear, golden, lovely paper.

Are you talking about girls? Here's to your lady friend!

To my lady friend!

"V. Berezin's Partnership "Art Publications""

"The Way of Truth. Worker's paper"

May I?

Hello, Natasha. It's me, Maksim. Remember me?

It's been a long time. But I remember everything.

Your article won't go, comrade. There's no

free space. - Why am I suffering so?!

Pssst! - I want to expiate my sin!!

Are you mad? Do you have a heart? This woman hasn't slept for 5 nights, and you shout.

I'll wash away my shame! I will! I won't be a blackleg anymore!

Go pray on the square! - Why don't they publish me?

Silence! - They publish metallists and turners, when

they repent, why not the railway workers? Look, I wrote it myself!

Don't be mad, there's no space left. You lie! There is for textile workers, why

not for us?! Wake her up! Let her publish! - You son of a bitch! Give me that, we'll do it

without her. - Thank you, my friend.

So you're now on the railways? - Well, I am there sometimes.

Look, comrade Elena, I made verses! Are you crazy? This woman hasn't slept

for a week! - What do you want?

Verses, I made... Let go off me, I need to talk to her!

Psst! - There's a slight problem with the rhyme.

Pssst! Give him, he'll help you. - Yep, I will.

But it's a verse! I wrote verses too. Give me that.

He will.

Hey, lady! Lady! - Pssst!

What do you want? - I need to talk to the lady!

He's the lady. - You are the lady?!

I am. Are you a newsboy? - Yes.

Such a short one. - Still, I can cry very loud: "Pravda"!

Worker's paper "Pravda"! - What's your name?

Foma. - Do you have "The New Time"?

No. - You need to have different papers.

Which ones? - "Two-headed Eagle", "Speech" etc.

For cover. - Cool.

Now go, and don't wake her. She hasn't slept for 10 days.

I say, stop these disgraceful practices! Pssst!

It's a shame! I... - Pssst! Shut up!

I'm not a magician, there are seven columns in the paper, and you give me

articles for twenty! What should I throw out? How do I make the international

page, with brevier? - No, you can't make the international page

with brevier. - Shit, you woke her up!

Thank him, comrade Elena, for your sleep. Are you acquainted?

No, I don't know him. - He's from the railways.

He writes verses. - I have an urgent article.

One more article? - And verses.

Hell, what verses? - And a letter. I won't be a strikebreaker

anymore.

Maksim! - Natasha!

They come!

On behalf of the director of publications I confiscate today's issue of "Pravda".

The paper is closed from now on. - But we///

You can make complaints. - We have a permission.

I said you can make complaints. Begin. - It's illegal!

Complain. - We will! They won't let us breath.

What do you want? Mister deputy, don't interfere. You are a stranger in the paper,

it's not your business. - It is my business, I'm a worker's deputy,

and this is a workers' paper. We do the same.

And I have directions. - Show me.

This won't do. - How's that?

This is about "Pravda", and we publish "The Way of Truth".

You can complain. - And we will.

The worker's paper comes out every working day except Monday. What day

is it? - Tuesday.

Strange. The number must have come out, and disappeared. Totally confiscated.

Only three copies left.

Our business goes on, comrades.

We need a new editor. And a new title. - "The Voice of Truth"?

"The Worker's Truth" - No.

"Labour Truth"? - That's good.

Worker's paper "Pravda"! Worker's paper "Pravda"!

To strike. Have you asked Erofeyev? - We need to discuss, to wait.

Wait for what? Maybe you need director's permission for the strike?

What do you know about strikes? - I'm good at strikes. 44 strikes and 7

lockouts. I was fired from 16 factories. And now from the 17th.

Because you're stupid. - Nah, stupid.

You're a what? A foundry worker. You don't need brains. Just listen

to the turners. Turner knows everything. We won't have a strike, we have no

reasons. - What about "Pravda"?

There's everything in it. - It's not the paper who lies, it's somebody

lied to the paper. "The order was moved to the Severnoye factory". I'm here for 26

years, I know every single place here, and where are the models for the order?

I don't see them. - You don't? Let's go, then.

These? It's not written on them, that they are for that order.

You want these models to have a certification?

It would be okay. - Hell, why are you here?

Strikers sent me. It's the same order. They removed the stamp, but we have

the drafts. - Let me see.

It's the same. - The same.

The same! - Quiet!

No, we're positive. - What did I tell you? To wait. To wait

for him. - Tell us freely. We are used to strikes.

Only he... - No, no! So, we must strike?

Yes. But it must be a special strike. We must gather all factories of Saint-

Petersburg, all workers. Banks payed 10 000 rubles to the Navy to get this

order. They will get hundreds of thousands in return. They need profit, and we have

to work 13 hours a day, have to be fired if we're dissatisfied, and be fooled so they

can move the order to the other factory! - They won't fool us!

They arranged this for each other, and so can we. Six men start a strike, and then

thousands join. This will be the cursed order, and no worker will touch it.

Don't worry about the turners, they are the most conscious.

No, it's we, the foundry workers! You must be nuts!

Maybe, I am! - OK, it will be done. We'll visit every single

workshop, and begin tomorrow morning.

The main task is to win people's confidence. After every governmental meeting

or some serious discussion we must go here. - That's right.

To find out what a usual worker thinks.

How can you be fired, Platon? You're the "king". - Yes, Vaska, they fired me! Without

payment. They said, the newspapers will pay me. If only I found that journalist! If

someone helped me. - I will help you. Let's have an intimate talk

and discuss your hopes. Vaska! Beer to my best friend! To you, doctor!

They try to understand ordinary people... - Smugs!

I understand you. Do you like to read? Haven't you ever wanted to read a real

worker's paper? Take me, I'm an old journalist...

A journalist?! - Yes, I ask you: have you ever read

a worker's paper "The Ray"? - So, you're a journalist?!

And so, you as a conscious worker... - The worker? Who is the worker? If I got

fired, you think you can insult me? I'm the king of the Saint-Peterburg's billiards!

Hell knows what's going on! - I'll kill you!

Comrade, you're wrong! - "Comrade"? Oh, you scum!

Comrade, you're the rabble of the working class! - I'll kill you!

Let them associate with you, them who play billiards!

Billiards? Billiards. If a man called himself my friend, and led me to

discharge, if I find that man, wait for him, get him...

To the police? - Police? No, without police! Vaska, beer!

So, he'll walk here? - Sure, Platon. Rumor has it,

that they will finish work today, and he's an agitator.

An agitator? He'll agitate dead men on the cemetery!

Worker's paper "Pravda"!

Tell me, who did it to you?

They want to kill our strike! Run, tell them to strike!

Fyodor! Fyodor!

Mister! They killed...

Killed who? - The one who sold papers!

Fyodor?! - He's in the side street, lying dead.

Maybe not dead? - What do you mean, not dead?

Maybe in a drunk fight? - Drunk? No, Erofeev the turner has been

working on the factory for 26 years, he knows who did it! It's a mystery! I knew

him, he didn't drink. You have my word.

So, comrades, they wanted to give us that order, they removed stamps, and wanted

to fool us! - Right!

I propose to take our hats off for Fyodor, killed so young. I don't know his

last name. And secondly, if they won't agree with our terms we will strike!

Hello. - Hello, Natasha.

Good, good. But remove the word "republic", the censors will pick it on.

Write the uncensored slogans. - Okay.

Hello. You brought another verses? - Yes.

Any good? - I don't know, it's about my comrade's

death. - What comrade? Here, it's your railway

article. So, your friend died? Pity. Read, then.

(Reads pompous verses)

Good. He must have been a good man. - Didn't you know him?

No, I didn't. - So you'll publish it?

Yes. So who died, when? - Today he headed to our factory,

they killed him near it. - In the morning?

At dawn. And we didn't find the body. Apparently yardmen took it to the

morgue. The factory is on strike due to Fyodor.

Fyodor?!

Sit down, you're tired. Sit.

So, you strike? - Yes.

Support the Nevsky factory? - Sure.

Tell your comrades to hope for Putilov's followers coming.

Finished! - Don't touch her!

"It was the 20th day of the Severny factory strike"

Vassily Kuzmitch, where's your jacket? - You sold it?

It's warm.

All my friends sell what they have. And my daughter is ill.

Take it. - What for?

I owe to you husband. For billiards. - You lost?

Fool, I haven't lost for 26 years! I won. But that was our game: who wins pays.

Oh. - Yes.

Thank you, Vassily Kuzmitch.

(Kids sing) Pssst!

Uncle, have you got any food? - Yes, I brought sausage. First-rate,

the best! - Oh, he sold something.

Why have you sold your jacket? - Lie! "Sold". In England they don't wear

jackets anymore. It's unfashionable. - Our uncle is the big man, there's a letter to him

from the factory! - You lie!

I haven't lied for 26 years.

What can it be? "To Erofeev".

Is he asleep?

Yes. Maybe, we call a doctor? - Doctors are swindlers.

Maybe, call his mother or whoever? - Silence! Can't you see I'm reading. You

can't call, it's a secret. It's the first time he got a letter with a seal. They must want him

back. - It would be great. We could afford

chicken. And soup. - Your soup is gone!

Why's that? We won't have soup, and we won't even

have a cooker. We have been living here for 26 years. I have been killing

cockroaches for the same 26 years. And still they will live here, and we will live

on street. It's all because of the strike. - Oh my God!

God won't help you. He loves strikers.

Uncle, you have a visitor. - It's no good. Show him in.

Hello. - It's a girl, and I have no jacket on. Please.

It's ok, I'm from "Pravda" Our deputy asked to give you the ticket to the State

Duma meeting. He'll speak about you. And also they asked me to give you money

from different cities that support you. Here is your share.

You hear? And you said they won't help. They cannot but help Erofeev. Give them

all our gratitude. - Sure, I will.

I wanted to ask you one more question. - Yes?

I heard, that you were the last one to see the body of our comrade Fyodor. Maybe you know,

where it was taken to? - What body? I'm no undertaker's.

So, you don't know� - Tell her!

Psst, I can't tell you, it's a secret. - Sorry. I was told that you shared this

information. - Don't blame an innocent man! I haven't

told anyone, they ordered me to keep silent.

Who? - They told me! Go away!

No, tell me! Tell me what you know. - I can't!

You can tell me! - You can tell her, how you took my body

to your place, how you saved my life. - Women! I can't stand this anymore! You

just won't shut up. Listen, comrade Fyodor� Where is he? You see? What

a man. A billiard player, a drunkard and a womanizer.

I'm sorry, I couldn't let you know. - I don't care. You had instructions but preferred

to pretend dead. - I won't die anymore. And I will complete

my instructions today. - They will kill you if we let you alone.

Don't let me, then. Vassily Kuzmitch, we need a room.

Turn around! Stop staring at them! You filthy woman!

Heard that? - What?

They provide searches all around.

Police! - Give me your jacket! Get dressed! Move! Your cap!

Hold on, comrades! - So long!

Stop crying! Look, look and remember this.

The number of strikes suspiciously rises. And why should the working class want

to strike. Workers are replete, dressed, shod. Factory directors have full

responsibility for their workers. Workers live happier than we do, gentlemen. I can

say that I�d like to be a worker.

The true reason of strikes is that revolutionaries,

students and Jews incite the trustful worker to strike. And some of these

instigators sit here, between us, gentlemen. They are so-called workers

deputies. Fooled electors honored them by their trust.

Away! Exclude him! - Don't like it?

Calm him down! - Get the veterinarian!

They were chosen to go to the meetings. They visit factories, incite workers,

publish proclamations and newspapers. Trustful workers go crazy, they listen to

these traitors of tzar and Motherland, and this way walk to the gallows. Strikes

spread. The best way to avoid strikes is to cut the payments. They can't strike

hungry. As this crime threatens the state order these gentlemen should be treated

as state criminals and hanged.

Deputy Turaev, it is time for your speech.

Gentlemen of the State Duma. You heard the speech of the right wing deputy about

workers being replete. Having his hand on the shirtfront he claimed his wish of

being a worker. I doubt that workers will accept him.

They won't ask you! - Workers see the difference between their

workers deputies and you. You are the majority here, and your way is to the

ministry position. We are the minority, and our way is to Siberia!

That's the time!

Let me describe to you the life of a Saint-

Petersburg worker. 12-hour working day. - Not enough!

Fines everywhere and for everything. - That's fair.

Workers can't work in such backbreaking conditions.

I see, it's meaningless to talk about worker's life in this Black-Hundred

landowner's Duma.

Deputy Turaev, I call you to order.

I'm a worker myself. If I tell you how workers suffer it's because I want to show

all proletarians this exploitating system, to kill their naive hope of reconciliation

with the government, arbitrary rules and violence.

Deputy Turaev, be careful with your words!

I don't ask for your grace, gentlemen! We are two camps against each other: the

bourgeoisie and the proletarians. With their names I challenge the government with

our inquiry about the strikes. I have no doubts that you'll fail it, but thus you'll

show everyone that the majority of the State Duma found its way here because of

the ugly election right!

Deputy Turaev, if you continue insulting other deputies, I will deprive you of your word.

The striking workers cry for the abolition of this serfdom! Down with this

systematic killings of the working people! We will answer the violence with

violence!

Deputy Turaev, I deprive you of your word!

We wait nothing from you! Working class can improve its life only with its own hands!

You're deprived of your word, deputy!

You can deprive me, but you can't shut the working class up!

Officer! Officer!

The working class will hear me! - We hear! We hear!

I propose to exclude deputy Turaev from the State Duma for 15 days.

The "Pravda" paper! The worker's "Pravda"! Today's "Pravda"!

The main colony should go through the Sampsonievsky street.

What to write? - Write "tzar's assassins". We should wait

for kosacs... - From the Finlandsky station?

Right. It's important that "Metal" and "Russian diesel" factories go too. What

about the first one? - They go.

And Diesel? - It's closed. Mensheviks dissuade them.

Fyodor, go bring those workers. How's - your leaflet?

Done. - Well? Good.

The "Pravda" paper! The worker's "Pravda"! Today's "Pravda"!

Hooray!

They call you with their false leaflets, with

the name of Social-Democratic party. I'm the old SD, I tell you it's all lies. They

provoke you! With their accidental demonstrations you spend the power of

the working class! Were there discharges after the strikes? There were. Were

there arrests? There were too. You see the results of this evil agitation? You'll all die

instead of improvement. You'll die one by one.

Am I right? - You are!

Listen to what this worker says.

We will die one by one! But this gentleman lies. We're not alone, all

workers of Saint-Petersburg are on streets! You're the only ones who hide.

They will suppress you. Who will help you then? Go on streets, comrades! There's

your place!

Get him!

Go on streets, comrades! That's your place! We will die one by one, but we will

win together!

Stand! Fall in! Ladies first! Move!

Hooray!

Where're you going?

My boots hurt!

Link arms!

There's a fight on Sampsonievsky!

You can't throw it! Don't teach me! I've 26 years of throwing

behind!

They ran! Afraid of Erofeev! - Don't brag! They'll be back.

You think I'm afraid? I won't leave the street.

Right! I used not to let kosacs in Moscow in 1905, and I won't let those here.

You won't? - I won't!

Well, comrades? - Fight! Fight!

Bring the poles down! Make the barricade!

Well, our family life seems to get better, Natasha.

Yes, it seems so. - I always wanted to live a good life. Cozy,

with samovar and kids.

I order you to go away!

Clean the street immediately!

Move away! Or we'll shoot.

(Strikers sing a patriotic song)

Stop singing! Silence!

(the song continues)

You want to frighten the worker of Saint- Petersburg? Me, turner Erofeev?

For 26 years I used to...

Move, move, take the wounded.

"The last barricades on the Vyborg side were disassembled on July 22 1914."

"Russia entered the World war on August 1."

Hooray! Hooray!!!

Considering that this mutiny threatens with numerous miseries to the throne,

and that articles 126, 129, 130, 131 are not enough for such outrageous crime,

I require the death penalty for all accused.

Accused Artemieva, your last word.

It will be short. You don't judge us. It's not a court, it's a reprisal. You didn't make

this process public, you're afraid that your words will be used against you. You hope

to depress the working class. You won't succeed! The upcoming revolution will

not be stopped with our deaths or your courts!

There will be other people to continue our actions! - That's right, comrade!

Pass your sentence! She said for everybody.

Finish your trial! - Silence!

Hooray!

According to part I article of law #102 Natalia Artemieva is sentenced to

deprivation of civil rights and to banishment to Siberia.

That's the third time they threaten to hang me.

What's that? - They play about.

He's there? - Yes.

Hello, Maksim. Why so sad? - Today was the trial. Natasha, Mishenko,

Pavel. Apparently, Siberia.

See you some day. My inviolability of a deputy is over too.

Well, it's our way. We go to Siberia, on barricades, and Mensheviks go

to the ministry. Maksim, what if you had to risk your life on barricades?

I would go, even only with stones and sticks.

Sticks and stones were yesterday. Now we've got a million guns. There is a directive

of the Central Committee. "Imperialistic war turns into civil war."

Sit down, Maksim, tell me. - I made a committee.

How many? - Seven people.

Who? - New ones, but responsible. And also

in case of arrest, or banishment, there are four in back-up.

Who's in touch? - Egorov.

Okay. How's the font? - As you asked. The big italic one, so that

the most distant village could read. - Good, very good. You made

the replacement for him? - Anton.

So, let's start working. Pity to part with you, but we have to. The party entrusts

you with the new, responsible job.

"So Maksim went to do his new job."

Here's the soldier who will guide Russia to the new pass.

Will you? - I will, your honour.

Well done! - Thank you, your honour!

He's a great soldier.

So long, my dear Saint-Petersburg. Who knows, if I'll be back.

Doubtful. - Why not? People even come back from

the other world. We'll see. Let's smoke, bros. Anyone got a piece of paper?

Where did that come from? - I have it too.

"Down with the war�" - Keep reading. And we will listen.

And sing. Come on, bros!

(The song)

"Soldiers, you're summoned to kill in the name of the tzar, who shots poor hungry

peasants, who puts workers into prisons. Let him know, that soldiers' guns will turn

against the tzar and the government.

Comrades, keep your weapon, the time will come."

The End