All language subtitles for Anna.from.6.till.18.1993.EN

''A-

''-NA-N-A,

''Anna...

''K-

''-A-

''-R-

''-A'', euh...

''-E-

''-N-I-

''-N-I-N-A''

''Anna...

''Anna Karenina.''

''T-

''-O...''

The making of this film took me
thirteen years.

Many things have changed since then:

This veranda, on which our family
used to get together,

and where we spent the summer
nights,

this bench, on which our mother
used to sit,

the alleys she would walked;

this house, with the aroma of coffee
and toasts in the morning;

this sun-warmed floor on which
you, my girl, were running

with naked feet, into the
room of our mother,

darkened by the closed curtains,

glided under her quilt,

and had a breath of her odor and
listened to simple or clear things,

which you would forget right
after leaving the room,

but eventually, one day, recall.

But that house doesn't exist anymore,
neither the balcony

on which we had tea parties,
nor this bench,

neither this dog after which my
little daughter would run eagerly,

nor the country, that empire,
in which all that took place.

It has also disappeared.

It had everything which an empire
required: an emperor,

Volunteers, guards, gladiators,
buffoons,

guardsmen, merchants, artists,

and simple citizens.

It had everything, but no God.

Or rather, there were

lots of of small living Gods,

but people had no real God
inside themselves.

That empire fascinated because of its
power and its mystery.

It frightened, but it also attracted.

Hello, my name is David da Silva,

I'm coming to Moscow

for the Russian language Olympiad.

I'm from Guinea-Bissau.

My name is Magda, I'm from Hungary.

My name is Tatuya, I'm from Japan.

I'm the only Japanese here.

In reality it was

a Godless empire casting its shadow

far beyond its borders.

But was it was a naive faith

in an enticing though unfeasible dream

of universal equality and a paradise
on earth?

Or rather a desire to delude others

for own's own benefit, while

taking part in a gigantic game?

The first secretary of the German SUP,

Erich Honecker, was received with
cordiality and fraternalism

by the representatives of the party
and the state.

But empires can't exist without an enemy.

If there is no such enemy,

then he has to be invented.

For that particular reason even
hockey games

can adquire in our subconsciousness
a more profound feeling

and a different significance.

One doesn't necessarily have
to start a war,

it's enough to have an enemy, to
compete with him, to scare him,

and to smile at him.

A guard of honour was lined up

to welcome the distinguished guest.

I don't think that Americans know

anything concrete about the individual
they're welcoming now.

For them he's simply an image,

behind which stands a great potency

that has to be feared, and
consequently be treated with respect.

The rest of the world

is sitting comfortably between

those two superpowers.

It made its life
easy enough

joining now this side, now the other,
depending on its current interests.

And if an emperors isn't
to one's liking,

one can still ask for the
support of the other,

any kind of support.

... in the Kremlin, the General Secretary
of the CC CPSU,

Leonid Ilitch Brejnev.

The Senator introduced his family to him.

Leonid Ilitch has offered Edward Jr.

a photography with his signature.

Try to find the biggest one.

- They're not here.
- Keep looking.

Pick the biggest carrot.

And if it's a small one?

That's no problem.

Will I get soaked?

Hose it down!

Frankly, at this time, in 1980,

I had no clear idea about

which kind of film I would be making,

or rather, I certainly felt intuitively,

that it might become an interesting
document of its time,

but I hadn't made up my mind regarding
its form.

I had simply decided to shoot

one can of film a year,

asking my daughter, while she grew up,
5 identical and simple questions.

Back then, in our country

censorship had an unlimited power.

No manuscript could be published
without consent,

hence it was near impossible to make

private films with a professional
equipment.

Film stock had to be purchased
at enormous overpay.

or through other means.

After that we had to process the
film in secret, then conserve it.

Those who accepted to work on it
took a considerable risk,

But they were loyal friends.

Without them, this film would
have never been possible.

Anna, look at me.

Hi!

Hi!

Anna, look at me.

Hi!

Hi!

How are you?

Fine.

Why are you smiling?

I'd like you to answer me a few
questions.

Tell me, what is it that scares you most?

Look at me.

- Baba-Yaga.
- Who?

- The witch.
- What is she like?

Why are you always smiling?

Stop playing the fool.

Why are you scared of her?

Because she has a long nose.

And that frightens you?

She also has a horrible head.

Tell me,

what would you like to have
most of all?

A crocodile.

You want a crocodile?

A real one?

Yes.

What is it that you dislike more
than anything in the world?

A soup which is called "bortsch".

I don't like the bortsch.

''Vassili Ivanovitch Sourikov.''

''Self portrait.''

The walls of our house - decorated
with paintings of our forefather,

the great paintor Vassili Sourikov,
and the grandfather Pjotr Konchalovsky.

The energy and warmth of our
mother, Anna's grandmother,

protected her for some time from
influences of the outside world

She knew who her ancestors were
and it never troubled her.

That didn't just tell her apart from
other children of this country,

but also from my childhood and
my brother's.

Andrei and I grew up with the surname
Mikhalkóv,

because since high school my father

had shifted the stress in his name

to pretend that he were not
related to the distinguished

aristocratic family Mikhálkov.

Nodody suspected back then

that a little boy who stuttered since
the day his babysitter

let the pram with him go downhill,

would become the celebrated children's
poet Sergey Mikhalkóv,

whose verses would be known by all
generations of our country.

Some were sitting on the bench,
Some were looking down the street.

Tolya whistled, Boris sang.

Kolya just sat there and swung his feet.

It was near the end of the day.
Our friends went for a stroll.

In the sun a puppy lay,
On the fence a sparrow sat

A cat disappeared in the attic.
Boris suddenly asked:

-I've got a key in my pocket.
What do you have?

-We have visitors today.
What do you have?"

I quickly began to understand
that the idea for this film

stems inconspicuously and naturally
from another film, Oblomov,

which I had just completed.

This boy, Ilioucha Oblomov,

wakes up in different life, in
a different Russia

The warmth of his house and
the love of his family

also nutured his childhood.

And I felt the desire to compare
those two childhoods,

one of a girl from the Soviet Empire

and that of a boy from the long-bygone
Russian Empire,

to find out at which points they diverge,

for sure, and to know

if they converge again.

Even though he went away from his home,

and found himself amidst the country's
vast expanses,

Ilioucha Oblomov could not lost,

because the people he encountered
on his way

lived -or at least tried to live-

according to the same rules as his
his very own ancestors.

So, the life of the country,
its history - all stemmed

from the life and history
of each home individually.

Mum has arrived!

Meanwhile Anna, while outside
the walls of this house,

immersed herself in a world of
swindle and imitation.

The District Council of People's
Deputies has requested to

register the birth of

a new female citizen of the USSR.

Your daughter has been born

at a glorious time when mankind's

age-old dreams finally come true due to
the tireless work of the Soviet people.

Having a child is an honor.

It also means enormous educational work

and involves a huge responsibility
to society

which is depending on you.

We, young pioneers, in presence

of the members of the Communist Party
and Youth

of the entire Soviet Nation

pledge, all as one:

"To follow the line of the Party:

Always ready!

To love our Soviet Union:

Always ready!

To be a decent generation:

Always ready!

To follow the maxims of Lenin:

Always ready!

As unseen in history there appeared

a new kind of state power,

one called
upon by the revolution

to purge the earth from
any form of exploitation,

violence and slavery.

Our Socialist Soviet Republic,

will stand firm like a beacon,

of international socialism

and provide an example for all
working classes.

And the more majestically in
outer public life the empire

glorified the Soviet Homeland,

the more precious a private minor
homeland

became to each person.

That could be a river, a forest,
the view from a window.

For my children and me,

it was the countryside,

and the dusty road that lead to
our house.

Today is the 8th of august, 1981.

One year has gone by since we
began making this film.

Anna is seven years old.

This year, she begins to go to school.

Anna,

I want to ask you some questions.

Be attentive and answer sincerely.

What is it that you like most?

Look at me.

Between what?

In general. What do you like most?

At this moment.

Nature.

-What?
-Nature.

Nature

What is it that you dislike most?

-Mean people.
-Good.

What is it that scares you most?

-Quarrels.
-Quarrels?

-Speak louder.
-Quarrels.

What is it that you desire most?

-To be intelligent.
-What?

To be intelligent.

And right now?

Right now?

To be knowledgeable.

-What?
-To be knowledgeable.

To be knowledgeable?

That's what you desire most right now?

And what is it that you love most?

Answer well.

Answer well? That?

I think what you want most is
to take a bath.

I also want that.

Look through the rear-view mirror.

The fear of answering badly.

I know that well.

I'm left-handed and they made me
write with the right hand at school.

I remember the fear when
making haste,

omitting letters and scrawling
with the unworked right hand.

Your classmates have already finished
and are waiting for you.

The fear to be unlike the others.

It's the fear which pervaded more
than any other, since childhood,

for all who live in this country.

Lenin, Party,
Communist Youth!

From the Party you borrow
enormous tested experience

for the entire activity of
your organization.

And it's only natural.

Because the Party and the Young
Communists have single goal:

the communism.

Mom gave me a broom lash:
Never go out with an old man.

The broom got quickly smashed,
But my passion didn't end.

They both kept kissing
Exultant and ardent,

And never noticed
the pants going down.

Our homeland toiled

with joy and song

The wishes of the Party

got fulfilled.

This lady from Rostov
Came to look at Leo Tolstoy,

And that one from Oryol
Went somewhere on her own.

Be she a lady or a saint,

They'd bang her all the same.

Long live the Great Soviet People!

Long live peace!

Long live comunism!

Go to hell!

Rise, pariahs of the earth!

Get up, starving legions!

Make reason march forward:

it's the end of opression.

The past has to be smashed
to smithereens,

the legion of slaves will be victorious.

They say that the songs are the
soul of a country,

but the people never sang those
official songs.

And under these roofs, there
was another life going on,

with other songs that resonated.

And all hoped that

the prophetic words of the Party's
hymn would come true.

True to my heart's call

my heart swears profound loyalty

to Vladimir I. Lenin,

And to the message we carry.

Shaking off its heavy burden,

Our globe breaks through the dark.

As rivers are originally streams,

our history begins with Lenin.

Our waiting is century-old

And it reflected the might

of all bygone uprisings And all
Paris Communes' dreams.

Besieged on all sides

by doubts that undermined our morals

and dangers that arised everywhere,

but there was a Party on this earth,

the one which he created.

The world is ready to vouch for it,

to the generations to come.

For Lenin's hand will always lie

on our Homeland's pulse.

The deeper and more hopeless
became society's decay,

the greater grew
its demand for enthusiasm.

The signal given to attack, sound!

Shine, ardent sun, shine!

Everything is still ahead!

And Lenin, like our youth,
is in the front!

That was just the time

when the empire, having mastered

all its forces,

tried to parade its potential

and grandeur to the world.

The bear, the Soviet Bear,

the "red bear" which people
used to fear worlwide

turned out to be
an inflated teddy-bear called

Misha, the mascot of the 1980
Moscow Olympics,

which, having taken off,
began gradually

to vanish into infinity.

The Communist Party of the Soviet Union,

the entire Soviet people
have sustained a heavy loss.

It has deceased the loyal continuer

of Lenin's great cause, the
ardent patriot,

the outstanding revolutionary fighter

for peace and Communism,

one of the greatest politicians
and men of the contemporary state,

Leonid Ilitch Brejnev.

The Communist Party,

our Soviet fatherland,

and countless foreigners

mourn his death

and pay L. I. Brejnev
his last homage.

For the first time since Stalin's death,
29 years earlier,

the country buried a head of state
who died

while in office.

I still remember Stalin's death,
I was then 8 years old.

One morning, for the first time
in my life,

I saw all the mirrors of
the house draped in black.

I remember that my father,
my brother and I cried.

I remember the classical music
over the radio, and the crowds,

who on their way to pay him the last
homage passed by below our windows.

I remember the reaction of my mother:

it amazed me.

She was quiet and calm,

respectful for compassion's sake,

but I didn't see a single tear
on her face.

Stalin's death was taken by the
entire country

as a catastrophy,
as the end of the world.

Brejnev's death was taken simply
as an end.

Who would become his successor?

And the country glued its nose at
the TV to guess the successor's name,

because it could only be someone
who was among those present,

on the Red Square.

I learned that L. I. Brejnev
had died while I was

at my workplace.

It came like a bolt
from the blue.

I couldn't believe

that he had really gone.

That day, watching

the dam, the Dniepr, the rocks,

it all seemed to mourn
together with us.

I think that, after a short while

honest historians will start...

The reaction on Brejnev's death
divided people into two categories:

Those who had been cheated

and sincerely believed in what they said,

and those who cheated.

...this man,

by tradition, which naturally
and subconsciously

came about among the people,

was not simply called Brejnev by us,

but Leonid Ilitch Brejnev.

Tell me, do you know what happened
in the country?

-Yes.
-What?

Leonid Ilitch Brejnev is dead.

I've already asked you
multiple times

these same questions...

What's it that you want
most right now?

I would like that

the Soviet People never forget

Leonid Ilitch Brejnev.

And what scares you most?

That a war might break out.

That horrible and unexpected
answer implied that the empire

had already started to wrest from
Anna her own ego.

But back then I didn't pay attention to it.

What is it that you like most?

I like it when you're at home.

What do you wish for right now?

The arrival of the New Year's Eve.

New Year's Eve? You like that
party?

Very much.

Filling by are the leaders of
the Communist Party

and the Soviet State,

the members of the commitee
of the funeral organization,

the family members and friends of
the deceased...

A bit more than a year passed by

and the classical music resounded
again over the radio.

The country buried Andropov.

When I finished this sequence and
sent the film away for processing,

someone reported that illegal film
material arrived at the laboratory,

and that Mikhalkov was making
a clandestine film.

For that reason this sequence

which is somewhat out of focus

couldn't be repeated.

I didn't want to put the people
who helped me under risk

and thus didn't process another
version of that sequence.

I hope that the spectator will
excuse my reasoning.

-Do you know what has happened?
-Yes.

What?

Our leader, Leonid...
Iouri Vladimirovitch Andropov est mort.

Tell me,

what did you know about him?

That he was very active

to help people,

and that he worked for the promotion
of peace.

I know only good things about him.

Tell me,

what is is that you like most?

I like when we all meet up

and discuss all matters, debate,

when we reveal everything
to each other.

What is it that you hate most?

Disputes in the family.

And the disputes in the entire world.

Why?

Because out of a dispute

can grow a worldwide war.

Where do you come from?

From Belarus.

-And you?
-From Kazakhstan.

-I'm from Moscow.
-I'm from Irkoutsk.

I come from Georgia,
my name is Izouri.

And you, what's your name?

Ramonia, I come from Lithuania.

And I'm from Siberia.

And what would you desire most today?

That a good leader will get selected,

and that this leader,

Konstantin Oustinovitch Tchernenko,

will take good care of us.

Of all people here and across the
globe.

Thirteen months have passed.

Again a 3-day national mourning
has been announced.

K. Tchernenko held the post of
Chairman of the Presidium

of the Supreme Soviet and the
General Secretary of

the Party's Central Committee
for only thirteen months

He died at 7:20 a.m. on March 10th.

The Plenum appointed

M.S. Gorbatchev General Secretary
of the central Committee.

Anna,

one year has gone by

since I last filmed you.

Tell me, what is your desire after
this time period?

What would you like most of all?

That's hard to say.

That peace may reign and that
we may be healthy.

That we may be happy.

Even though, of course,

today we are sad.

Today

happiness has gone.

Is it the end of the world?
Of hope?

-No, why?
-Then?

One wants to believe that everything
will be fine.

What do you expect

from M. S. Gorbatchev?

That the world may live in peace

and that there won't be a nuclear war.

That we shall always live together

and that joy will prevail.

Is that possible?

Yes.

That we may always be happy?

Yes.

Are you sure?

I am.

Circle of the sun, the sky around it,

it is the picture of a little boy.

He has drawn it on a sheet of paper,

he signed it with his hand."

That was the favorite song of
the government.

It was sung by kids, parents,
rulers and soldiers.

The louder and merrier the country
sang about peace and friendship,

the more ominous grew

the image of the Afghan war,

something almost nobody
spoke of openly.

Any reference or hint about
the war was enough

to cause fury.

This footage is from
my picture "The Kins"

banned from screening for
two years, even though

it made no reference
to the Afghan war.

If the image of recruits was
seen as something noble and

even essential prior
to the Afghan war,

in the contemporary context it caused

a totally different, inadequate
response.

My editor preserved censured
footages from this picture

which gave me the chance to use them
in this film.

This plane air-lifted a nameless,

so-called "limited contingent"

of fighters-internationalists to

an unknown war in a foreign country.

On its way back it became well-known as
"black tulip", carrying

zinc coffins on board which contained
dead soldiers.

Nikolaï, Sergueï, Ivan perished
for an unknown cause

They obtained, for the last time,
their names in the snow-covered

graveyards of Russia.

To some this evil empire
of fake equality

returned their names
at least in graveyards,

to others it brought eternal

humiliation by crossing out
their real names forever.

My Afghan name is
Akhmadula Khaï.

But my Soviet name
Serguey Vladimirovitch Fateyev.

I come from Kemerovo, Siberia.

My Afghan name is
Mohamed Islam.

My Russian name is Victor.

Where are you born?

I was born in Zhdanov, Ukraine.

My name is
Leonid Grigoryevich Vomko.

Here they call me

Azyzylo.

I was born July 2, 1965

in the Chemlin District,
Moldavian SSR.

I wonder how many
totally innocent people

will see in heavy
wartime dreams

alien landscapes, alien faces,

will hear alien speech

and have no explanation

as to why they were condemned to all this

by their own country.

Today is

December 31, 1987.

The final day of the year.

I hadn't worked on this film
for almost two years,

because I was very busy.
I made "Black Eyes",

staged "Unfinished Piece"
at the Dramatic Theatre in Rome,

also with Mastroianni,

and wasn't here.

Tell me, what's it that you like
most?

There's no one answer. I like
a lot of things.

But, most of all?

I like my parents, I like to sing,
to dance, to read,

to observe.

What was most interesting that
you observed in recent times?

The birth of my sister.

I was shooting in Italy

while Nadja was born in Moscow.

I would like

that we all clink glasses

because my daughter has been born.

Now I have two sons
and two daughters.

Did you notice the changes

that took place and a difference
to how it was before?

I'm talking about the situation
in our country.

What has happened?

The perestroïka.

Is it clear to all what we

undertook to accomplish
in the country?

We all should readjust
ourselves -

from the CC CPSU Bureau
to the last workplace.

Everybody, at his workplace,

should work conscientiously.

That's what
perestroïka is all about.

One hears it said:
What is perestroïka?

Honest work is the main
thing about perestroïka.

Thank you all.

It wasn't that difficult, was it?

Nothing offensive.
No problem.

I don't know what "perestroïka"

meant to foreigners.

But here it acquired
a specific meaning.

To most people it meant an
opportunity to turn the covert

into the overt.

Most successful

were Komsomol leaders who
would chorus Le Internationale

in the morning, and supply girls to
closed party "soirees" in the evening.

With a singular frivolity

and great professionalism

these guys would provide
an ideological basis here.

Listen well,

the aim of the contest is

to identify talented girls

able to communicate
in different circumstances

and capable of unorthodox

ways in off-beat situations.

There is a need to develop

new examples of conduct

in society, at workplaces

and recreational institutions.

That is, they should
serve as an interesting

and worthy example
for our Soviet youth to follow.

Things have become far better

and also

far more interesting.

Was there anything particular
that improved?

We had lots of shortcomings

in the economy, in politics...

For example...

The light industry, for example.

What is it?

Light industry...

Light industry means
our clothing, for example.

our clothing, for example.

Our clothing was far more

substandard than it is now.

Good.

Now it has become far better.

At the perestroïka dawn,

in a chilly glass shack,
on the Moskva River bank,

Sergey Penkin was
celebrating his birthday.

Now he's the famed singer.

But once he worked
as a street sweeper

and lived in a basement,

he sang in one of private

restaurants that sprang everywhere
in the USSR.

Like many of those present here,

he dreamed of TV fame:

An expensive car, cigars, casino,

in one word,

all the things that one could see
on foreign cassettes.

To many it represented

genuine freedom and democracy.

Observance of Penkin's birthday
is now a tradition in Moscow.

Just like November
demonstrations

became traditional
70 years earlier.

Male striptease for the first
time in the Soviet Union.

I don't think, in uttering
these words, the singer Krylov

visualized how close
to the truth he would be.

The November 7th Day is no
longer marked in this country.

But Penkin's birthday

is often aired on Channel One.

So, on stage is

Sergey Penkin!

Dear friends!

I am exited.

Look at all those butts!

Dear friends, today,

foreigners from America arrived
for my birthday party.

I'm thankful to them.

They came fro far away,

because it interests them.

Let them see how our Soviet
youth

is having fun.

There are many guests today -

musicians, poets,

doctors, etc.

I thank you for appreciating
not only my art...

Here are my parents! Thank you
for coming

from distant Penza

which is where I myself grew up.

I'm so nervous!

Many thanks to you,
dear friends!

Not all things could easily
be readjusted this way.

Not all can instantly switch
over to a new life.

What is our new life all about?

The future is wearing pink.

-Really?
-Yes.

But what does it mean?

It means that one should live

the way one desires.

That is, if one needs

something, one can...

But how do you visualize
your future life?

As I talked to my daughter,

I realized with terrible clarity

how faraway from me she was now

and how secretive she became

about her own life,

even to me, her father.

My goodness, I thought.

Is it true that only few
years ago, she would

smile at me and say she feared
Baba-Yaga the Witch

hated the bortsch, and wanted to
have a crocodile?

Are you dodging the answer?

How easily was she deprived

of the right to say silly things,

and with impunity at that.

The people are again

delightfully creating
their new idol.

This time he's different

from those they had before.

He speaks without notes, communicates
with facility,

and the whole world respects him,

not just for being the leader of a
superpower,

but as a personality.

The entire country would
nestle to TV screens,

for what he said was
something novel and

even striking to most
people in the USSR.

Was he really sincere
about his undertaking?

I'm sure he was.

Did he anticipate
the results of his doings?

I'm afraid he didn't.

...and to end this meeting,

I'll quote from Pushkin:

"Live, sun! Perish, night!"

It's so easy to say: "Live, day!

Perish night and darkness!"

And how faraway, hard
and tormenting and, at times,

unreal is the path to this goal.

The world was getting older.

The Ecclesiastes' predictions
were coming true.

Cognition multiplied grief.

And the more knowledge people gained,

the less joy they derived from it.

CHALLENGER

THE BOURGET

IRANIAN FUNDAMENTALISM

THE FASHION OF J.-P. GAULTIER

The prelude was lengthy, but

the end was quick.

Our session is drawing to a close.

As usual, at times like this,

when the Lord's place
is vacant in man's soul,

there emerges a whole army of
false prophets

trying to occupy that space.

They induce, conjure, urge,

thereby shaking
the already unsteady minds,

filling them with greater
horrors and uncertainties.

TSCHERNOBYL

And to the devastating energy
of human malice,

irresponsibility and cruelty,

divine nature responds

with self-destruction.

EARTHQUAKE IN ARMENIA

Now it's all over -
such is my imperative.

Nothing must be distorted

or overdone.

All over, the eyes closed,
no excesses at all.

All are alert, able to move
well, no dizziness.

Today is December 29,

1988.

This year has been very painful,

it was the Year of the Dragon.

Various grave events happened,

and unfortunately, sad ones, painful
ones,

and even tragical ones...

not just for all residents
of the globe

but most of all for individual families

in Armenia, because of the earthquake,

and for our family, as well.

The joy of my elder son's
homecoming from his

3-year service in the navy
was overshadowed by

a painful event for our family.

the death of my mother,
Natalia Petrovna Kontchalovskaïa,

around which revolved her

children and grandchildren,

wifes - ex and new - and friends.

Everything seemed blessed

by her talent and light.

Needless to say, it was a

an immense loss for our family.

Whenever I left this place

to go to the studio or on a
distant trip.

I invariably asked
for Mamma's blessing.

I sort of feared she would

perhaps pass away while I was

far away, and wouldn't be able to
see her again.

She used to pull curtains
over the windows,

and if I departed
early in the morning -

this was normal,
meaning she was asleep.

But if, say,
after 9 the house was locked

and the curtains pulled,

I was always fearful of

coming back with her no more.

I was on a trip when she died.

She was 84 then.

These parts were cleared
daily in winter

and swept clear in autumn,
for she used to walk there.

She daily went on a walk,

just to feel alive.

In her last years she lived only here,
and rarely went to Moscow.

The entire family didn't get together
as often as before.

But on December 31

we all met up

for New Year celebrations.

From my childhood
I still remember

this sweet anticipation
of the coming New Year.

When the Christmas Tree
was dressed up and sparkling.

Preparations for the feast
started early in the morning.

The fragrance of conifer.

I remember the scent of mothballs

from a cotton Santa Claus.

Afterwards all went to sleep so as

to be up at 10 and
welcome guests,

who came with noise, hubbub,
right from the frosty air.

Laden with presents, they
invaded the house with shouts,

laughter, jokes, hugs.

As for you, you were

urged to go to sleep,

for at 11 sharp you had to be in bed.

I hated this moment.

I would take along conifer needles

to prick myself to keep awake.

And yet, I fell asleep and
in my half-dream I heard

someone else arriving and
then singing, guitar playing,

and Mom's laughter.

But then, getting up in the morning

you found a huge table resembling Pompeii
after the Vesuvius eruption.

Everything was messed up -

snacks, desserts,
unfinished glasses of wine,

and even cigarette smoke looming.

My childish desire to celebrate

New Year with the adults

was so great that I'll remember it
for the rest of my life.

This also explains
why I allowed our children

to celebrate New year
together with us.

And now...

what is it that Anna fears most.

I fear a war.

And in the light of our present grief,
I fear the death of close ones,

for grandma died this year.

That was the first death
in the family I experienced.

It was horrendous.

And what do you love most?

My family.

I love when they're all together
here.

That's good.

Artyom, and you?

What do you fear most?

Also, I fear a war.

Don't go.

I won't go.
I'll stay with you.

Will winter come back?

Yes.

I'm not asleep.

As I recalled Mamma before

the icon, a kind of prayer

took shape as though by itself:

Help, o Lord, towards forsaking
of sins

and rest the soul of your
slave Natalia,

and help, o Lord, before her

all-seeing and unseeing eyes

and before the all-seeing and unseeing
eyes of my ancestors resting here,

and Orthodox faithfuls elsewhere.

Render our home clear
of disgrace, disintegration,

squabbles and malice, hatred,

offences, insults, envy, division.

Instead, may all follow the road
paved by her

and blessed by Your divine radiance.

Amen.

In real life, every person has
two alternatives.

One can either speak out
or keep mum.

One can watch tanks from
the window, and one can do

otherwise, like that Chinese man
in Tiananmen Square.

one can also confront them and
block their way.

Much indeed depends on
the human magnitude of

the person who makes a decision.

Does he think solely
of this precise moment,

or also of the fact how his conduct
may affect his subsequent life

of those living next door

and those coming after him?

The spring of history
kept compressing.

The empire fell apart.

The slogans shed their goal.

Only direction stayed.

AHEAD YOU SEE THE C...

The world changed as a landscape
changes after an earthquake.

The Berlin Wall, a symbol of

world division, crumbled down.

So did socialist traditions,

values, habits, and idols, too.

The crowd, almost unconsciously

relying on an instinct which had been

cultivated over the decades,

dragged in new idols
to pledge allegiance to them.

Returned from exile
was Sakharov,

a very dangerous dissident.

But this fleeting moment
between his return and his death

came like a meteorite flash.

Surely, Gorbachev was

and remains a veritable author
of these changes in history.

But the higher
and more rapidly rose

his prestige around the world,

the lower and more rapidly

did he fall in his own country.

RETIRE!

The crowd, cultivated
on lies over the decades

and compelled to worship

an idol it itself forged,

delightfully grasped
the freedom given by this idol,

in order to publicly

trample him underfoot.

And while some
defended their idol

and others vituperated him

the people patiently
awaited the time

when they would be given

an opportunity to tranquilly live
and work in order

to provide for both
warring sides.

My heroine is
turning 16 today.

Anna is 16 yeard old.

Hi.

When did we start
shooting this picture?

A decade ago, as far as I remember.

Previously, you did it fearlessly,

but now... Why?

Did you develop complexes?

What complexes?

I don't know.

Previously I didn't ponder
on what to say.

Now I have to think first.

And how do you answer the following
question:

What do you fear most?

Now I can no longer say that I
fear war.

You no longer fear war.

Not any more.

Rings out in Peace street
a clarion call.

For rising in peace fight
by big folks and small.

Where are you from?

From Belarus. And you?

From Kazakhstan.

- I come from Moscow.
- I'm from Irkutsk.

My name is Lizuri.
I come from Tbilisi.

And I've come from Siberia.

Despite all this effort
and glorious din,

The peace in the Peace street
is not to be seen.

- You want to have kids?
- Sure.

I never pondered it before.

Now it's a very serious

problem for me,

because I imagine it involves

lots of chores and much responsibility.

As I started shooting this
picture, I sought to locate

the point where these
two childhoods diverge -

little llya Oblomov in one
empire and a little girl,

Anna, in the other.

And I realized that they
were divided by faith

and the abscence of God.

Indeed, our possibilities
have grown immeasurably.

And our knowledge has become
far greater.

But just as well we realize
that godlessness has turned our

possibilities and our knowledge
into something destructive.

We've lost respect for life and death.

We've turned our life into TV serials,

and death into a computer
game, and booty into ruin.

Let's say a prayer, llya.
Follow me.

O Lord, Father Almighty,

take mercy on me.

By the great grace of Yours,

protect me, o Lord...

Ladies and gentlemen,
friends, comrades!

As you've already learned
from the mass media,

in view of impossibility -
on account of health -

to perform his duties,
Michail Gorbachev...

Y- e-I-t-s-i-n!

The Communion is given
to God's slave...

This is the building of
Russia's Supreme Soviet.

You see familiar individuals
engaged in a live broadcast

for people crowding

around the White House.

These are Victor Yaroshenko,
Nikita Mikhalkov,

Alexander Lyubimov,
Alexander Politkovsky.

Lots of people
visited this place today.

They include cultural
personalities, artists

who expressed their views concerning
the events of the past two days.

Mr. Mikhalkov, What did you tell
the people

crowding around this building?

I tried to point out that those

who know me are well aware

that I never upheld
extreme views, right or left.

I never addressed rallies

and feel that everyone should do
his job at his place.

History is ruined,

as is culture and millions of
people

were destroyed for ideological
symbols,

which aren't worth
a single child's life.

Aucune idée ne vaut la vie d'un enfant.

I'm here today because I believe:

Order must be brought about.

But by who and how?
This is a serious issue.

There is a government
elected by the people.

This is an all-people's government.

There is the President...

My attitude towards Yeltsin is
diverse

for a number of different reasons.

But we've got to decide now:

Shall we allow to be treated

and dominated from the positions
of strength,

as it happened in those earlier years?

There were three people

who perished

in August 1991.

Thousands upon thousands
of Muscovites

displayed heroism
and staunchness.

They alone
stopped reactionary onslaught.

Last night most heads of state

thanked all people of Russia

and Russia herself for the fact that

Russia has saved democracy,
the Union,

and peace.

These Russian people
really saved the Union.

But what for?

To demolish it with their

own hands 3 months later?

Dear compatriots,

fellow citizens,

in view of the formation

of the Community

of Independent States,

I terminate my work

at the post of

USSR President.

I stood for autonomy and independence.

I upheld the people's sovereignty

and I also stood

for the country's integrity...

For the first time
the now ex-president

wasn't offered a cup of tea,

for by Bolshevist tradition
he was a nobody already.

Too often do we forget

a simple and old wisdom:

Treat people the way
you want to be treated.

The perestroïka era was

over and democracy was in.

But just like perestroïka,

the Russians interpreted democracy
in a rather odd way.

Remember a visit to Penkin

in his "glass shack"?

Now his birthday party

is aired on Channel One.

He even sings in the Kremlin

from time to time.

Je pense qu'il faut faire
plus de soirées, de bals,

comme au temps de Pouchkine,

I think we've got to hold
more soirees and balls

like in Pushkin's times
when people reciprocated.

visits to balls held at their homes.

You also remember Sergey Krylov?

Now he can address all
mankind from TV screen.

Residents of the planet Earth!

Life is marvelous, nevertheless!

The time has come
when human dignity

became dormant in people
and the sense of honour is erased,

when for money one
can sell one's officer's straps

and buy other's decorations,

when the notions of sin
and shame vanish completely.

In Russia, such times
are called troubled times.

The resulting void is
filled with something

that historically or

culturally has never been

and never will be natural
and normal to us.

This is my song.

Nobody can sing
the way he does.

Jesus always listens to you.

Tell him all you need to tell.

These women are crawling to the place

where stood a church blown
down by the Bolsheviks.

They kiss the trees

that witnessed the life

and the destruction of the church.

It seems cheaper

simply to invite
foreign preachers

who - through interpreter -
on TV or at the stadium

undertake to instruct
godless people

how to keep faith.

Everything is fine, even

with no food around...

I am talking about the Lord

who provides for you

and does everything good.

Raise your hands! Pray to God!

He's the one who says:
"All will be good!"

This little boy fails
to comprehend what

takes place around him.

But eventually, he or,
more likely, his children

will come to this place

to see this magnificent temple
erected by their toil.

Today is September 5,

1991.

Right here

after many years,

I continue to shoot my film.

My daughter Anna has turned 17.

She plans to study in Switzerland
for two years.

You remember this place?

Sure.

What do you fear most?

One thing, in earnest.

Personally, I fear

to lose my inner world.

I seem to have
a very good foundation.

Maybe now I've come
to realize one thing:

My homeland, perhaps,

is my only possession.

That is, something which
can be lost within a minute.

Why?

Because it's impossible to predict
what's going to happen

with our country, so there's
a danger of

losing whatever we have -

a kind of inner pivot

which is ever present...

What is Homeland for you?

Something big and very beautiful.

I don't know.

And yet, what's it?

Something to be

treated with trust and love.

But what exactly is it for you?

Remember I took you and Artyom
here to look at Homeland?

So what does it mean to you?

It is associated

with the countryside, I'd say...

- The countryside?
- Yes, and that forest.

- Where do you want to live?
- Here, of course.

Why?

Because I can't imagine
myself without this.

Without what? More concretely?

Lots of temptations are in store
for you in Switzerland.

Don't you think this may alter
your attitude?

No, never in my life.

Because

all countries are alike.

Isn't there any difference?

We're different in the sense things
are worse in our country, right?

No, it's better here.

Children from any country,
of any nationality,

generally cry for the same reasons.

And each child can be easily soothed

by giving him a candy, or by telling
a fairytale.

But what's it that made Anna cry?

After all she's 17 already
and affluent enough

to talk about her country.

I wonder if llya Oblomov,

a 17-year-old lad,

would break into tears while talking
about his Russian homeland?

I think he would.

Because the godlessness
that divided these two Russians

couldn't shatter the all-embracing

and truly passionate love whose

force and purity make it

known worldwide as the
mysterious Russian soul.

Okay, go ahead.

That's it.

A whole period

in our family's life is over.

The same applies to the life
of our hapless great country,

which is no longer the Soviet Union.

Hopefully it will be a great Russia.

But I don't want to end my
picture right here,

although the serial
is completed, I think.

I will try to continue it.

Should God give me strength
and health, and if peace

and accord prevail, in
13 years maybe I'll show you

a sequel of this film.

Over there, out in the fields,

stands my new heroine.

Nadya, my dear, tell me

what do you love most?

I love beauty.

- What?
- Beauty.

And what do you fear most?

I fear...

I fear...

I fear to go to school.

You're afraid to go to school?
And tell me,

What is Homeland for you?

It is

something beautiful.

And how is it?

Huge?

No, small.

Small?

How small? Show me.

And it's all yours?

Every human being, every citizen,

every country,

all have their unique and
inimitable path

which they should walk on

without prompting and violence,

but in a calm and dignified manner.

Not envying those who have
already reached their destination,

but instead trying to help those
who are lagging behind.

May God bless you, Anna...