Original subtitles

We will stand by our demands!

The authorities are panicking!

Long live the revolution!

BALTIC SHIPYARD

Long live the revolution!

SISTERS, THE YEAR 1918 A GLOOMY MORNING

ALEXEY TOLSTOY THE ROAD TO CALVARY

ROAD TO CALVARY BASED ON THE NOVEL BY THE SAME NAME

EPISODE ONE

Where are you running?

Dashenka! My little girl!

Quite by chance,

there was space on the train a day earlier, so we decided--

You have done just the right thing!

We were planning to meet you at the station, anyway.

-Kolya! -What is it?

-Look, Dasha is here. -Oh!

What a pleasant surprise! Good afternoon, my dear child!

Welcome!

-Come in, you must be famished. -Marfusha!

Our father is out, visiting his patients, as usual.

What about Samara? Samara is just fine, nothing new there.

That's right. Stability is a good thing.

Well, I propose a toast to you, sisters,

to your reunion.

That's good.

I've been accepted onto a law course.

Well done!

I will stay at your place for a bit, and then rent a flat.

Are you out of your mind?

You must be.

Daria Dmitrievna, what do you and your father have in mind?

My father gave me a bit of money so I wouldn't be a burden.

Better to spend that money on yourself.

-Live with us instead. -No doubt about it.

Oh, don't even try to object, dear.

-I dare not, Ekaterina Dmitrievna. -That's fine.

Well, look at her, she's a grown lady now!

When we got married, Dashenka was just a girl.

We got married during the Battle of Kulikovo,

so it's no surprise.

I will have coffee in my office.

Marfusha!

That's it, my pride.

I bought it at a vernissage.

It's called "Love". Do you like it?

Oh, Dashenka, that's what I don't understand.

And my dear wife, no matter how often I ask her,

cannot give me a decent explanation

of the idea behind this cloth,

if I may call it so.

If I may say, this cloth wasn't created for ideas.

Why was it created, then?

Any work of art should have something to say to the public.

It is not required to do anything.

Maybe it used to be,

but we live in the 20th century, thank God.

And artists serve pure art,

not some ideas.

It's high time you understood, Kolya,

you must cast off this backwardness of yours

and keep up with what's new.

Ah, ah, ah!

Each Tuesday we invite interesting people over,

philosophers, writers...

And Bessonov, for instance, comes too.

Oh, really? Who is he?

That's the question. Who is he?

I know who Pushkin is.

I know who Lermontov...

and Gumilyov are.

Bessonov is a very popular poet.

Here, listen:

"The saloon was roaring, the wine was pouring

And the singing was too loud

But I could only see my one and only,

that is, you, dressed in a lilac gown."

Good.

POETRY EVENING OF ALEXEY BESSONOV

Hello.

-Hello. -Hello.

May I ask what you are up to, young lady?

I'm going to the lecture.

Nowadays all self-respecting students

can be found in the lecture hall

at the philosophy society's meeting.

You ought to keep up with the progressive community.

Hello.

We don't want to remember anything.

We say, "That's enough! Turn your backs to the past!"

That's it!

What is there behind my back?

Venus de Milo!

Can I eat her?

Can she help my hair grow?

I don't understand what I need this mass of marble for!

Art... Art...

Are you still excited by this notion?

Look around!

Look forward,

look down!

You, for instance,

are those American boots?

Long live American boots!

Long live!

Bravo!

I'm sick and tired of living alongside so-called artistic people,

who cannot understand that art must move history forward,

rather than be a dead load on the shoulders of the modern man!

Bravo!

Bravo!

Bravo!

It's here, in St. Petersburg,

that the ideal Russian man was invented.

I'm afraid that it may result in vast bloodshed.

Here, young man, you have gone too far.

Please do take pains to watch your language.

It's disgraceful to shut someone up like that!

It's humiliating!

You don't know a damn thing about the people!

The Russian man

is nothing but a human with an empty stomach

and a work-worn back.

You'd better escape

before it's too late!

Bessonov!

Bessonov! Bessonov, please!

Bessonov, please join us on this tribune!

Let's applaud Bessonov, my friends!

I would like you to recite some of your latest verses. Would you?

Something appropriate for this meeting.

-Please, recite! -My dear friends!

"Snow is coming, this winter.

Snow is coming.

Swirling wildly above the cold Earth.

The world became even sadder this autumn.

How can we survive the frosts?

I refuse to believe that there's no God.

Let my prayer, like a stream,

flow a half-whispered Russian syllable

from candle to candle

in expectation of something bigger.

My soul freezes in fear

and death keeps watch.

Cold-blooded, untrembling,

the storm's groan seems to be alive

looking for its escape,

and swirls, swirls its gray hair.

And holding the earth in its thrall."

Bravo!

-What's wrong with you? -Sorry?

What's the matter with you, dear?

Nothing's the matter.

"With your arrogant smile...

Tear my heart, my soul apart...

With autumn angst...

I want you, impure, unfaithful...

fickle, despising...

Despising boredom, love and repose."

Dashenka! Kolya and I are waiting for you to come down to dinner.

Katenka, I'm already in bed.

I'm very tired. Will you please excuse me?

Fine, sleep well, then.

Sweet dreams.

-Would you like some, Katyusha? -No, thank you.

The weariness which comes after real work,

has nothing to do with fatigue of idleness.

Weariness... from real work

leads to sound and healthy sleep,

while an idle man's fatigue can only result in dreary oblivion.

You know, I think I will go and lie down.

-You'd better have your dinner. -I'm not hungry at all.

I feel like I'm experiencing some dreary oblivion.

Katyusha, I never meant to hurt your feelings.

You never mean to hurt my feelings, Kolya,

but you always manage to.

Bon app??tit, my dear.

Hello. I've been waiting for you.

Be careful with it!

Come in please.

Let's try this on.

No, this will not do.

-And the dress is way too modest. -Yes.

I like this dress.

What about this one?

Katya!

Well, that's much better.

-It's not too fancy? -No, not at all.

Perfectly ordinary.

Everyone in St. Petersburg dresses like this now.

-It's just an evening gown. -That's right.

I have no idea where I could wear it.

Today is Tuesday, the philosophers and journalists are coming.

Oh, I remember, and they will talk politics.

Everybody talks politics these days.

Ask any coachman, and he will tell you his theory of what Russia ought to be.

But whatever they say,

you will undoubtedly be the most beautiful girl there.

If you say so...

Hello, Sofia Pavlovna. So...

So what do we have here?

-Good evening, gentlemen. -Good evening.

The central camp in the war on domestic life welcomes you!

We, the seeds of a new humanity,

demand an end to all the prejudices

of the bloated bourgeois society.

Bravo, gentlemen, that's really brave.

I want to raise a toast to your bravery.

And will you please give a warm welcome to my younger sister,

Daria Dmitrievna Bulavina. Please welcome her.

Pleased to meet you.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

-Oh, hi. -Hello.

Hello.

What are you talking about, dear hostess?

Art, as usual.

Art, you say.

And what is that?

Art?

It's... It's...

There is no art,

only posturing,

a fakir's trick.

-I don't understand. -Well, it's a piece of cake.

Everything is long dead. People, art...

and Russia as well.

Russia is like carrion, with a flock of ravens sitting and feasting on it.

That's nice, nice, very nice.

Alexey Bessonov is a poet, so please excuse him.

Nobody can be excused, especially poets.

All of us will soon burn in hell, certainly, and I along with them.

That's an interesting idea.

I would like to smoke a cigarette outside.

Oh, I agree with you and support your idea.

I don't need this.

I can hardly stand other people's company.

-Will you permit me to leave? -I will see you out.

Either in a duel or on his knees, Antosha...

Come fast to support him...

Tomorrow there is a banquet to celebrate a book release.

-Is it yours? -No, not mine.

I don't even remember the author's name.

But I do remember being invited to the restaurant.

-Would you like to join me? -I would.

-Thank you. -You are always welcome.

I think, Bessonov was drunk, which would explain a lot.

I will tell you that Bessonov only excites the ladies.

By the way, we will have a soiree on Vasilyevsky Ostrov tomorrow,

"Splendid sacrileges," of course.

That's fine, I'll come.

Bring your sister, Daria Dmitrievna, with you.

Just a moment, gentlemen.

You can think whatever you want, but Bessonov,

whether drunk or sober,

is nothing but a moron.

That's all.

Well, he is our host,

and the host's word is law!

-Sensible! -He's not worth a half-penny!

To Bessonov, the moron!

The Supreme Judicial Court

tries official crimes

in case any members of the State Council,

ministers, or commanders in chief of regions of the Empire

are among the accused.

It also tries crimes against the State, such as,

first of all,

conspiracy against the crown,

second, conspiracy against the rule of law,

and, third, conspiracy against the succession to the throne.

In all of the above cases,

if and when they occur,

an Imperial decree will be issued

regarding the case's consideration

by the Supreme Judicial Court.

Professor, where are the chambers of the Supreme Judicial Court?

The premises are set every time

by a special Imperial decree.

So, this court is situated in some Supreme head, right?

That's a bit strange. I thought it might be someplace nicer.

What do you think you are saying, young lady?

I'm not a lady, I'm a human being.

In that case, please introduce yourself.

Do you want to deliver me to the Supreme Court?

-Would you please stop! -Calm down!

-Would you put an end to this? -You'd better leave.

I will, with pleasure.

And you know what?

It won't be long before people like you,

dusty junk, shreds of the Empire,

will leave here yourselves.

And nobody will remember you.

Professor, are you feeling well?

No, no, no.

I'm just fine.

Everything is fine.

Dasha, dear,

please do go without me.

What about you?

I was invited to a soiree for a book release.

What book?

How should I know what book?

I was invited, so of course I'll go, in order to stay informed.

Well, fine.

You can go, of course.

And what about the camp?

Oh, you won't regret going there.

Everybody's so witty and interesting.

They are the future.

Today a lady in my course was speaking about the future...

but it sounded quite scary.

Tell me, what lovely perfume are you wearing tonight?

Why do you ask?

Just to know, that's all.

You'd better show me

these "Splendid sacrileges" of yours.

Let's go, then.

Here are "the sacrileges".

-Good evening. -Good evening.

Please meet my friend.

Elizaveta Rastorgueva.

-Nice to meet you. -Is it nice, really?

Any human, man or a woman...

-Please, introduce yourselves. -...must be hungry... and free!

I won't be long. I'll be back in five minutes.

Yes.

Young girls and lads, men and women!

Leave, throw yourselves from your cozy dens, into the roundelay,

under the sun of the wild beast!

-Bravo! -That's brilliant!

Bravo!

That's true. It's high time somebody spat at this almighty old syphilitic.

But who is this man? Who will have the courage to do it?

-I will! -Will you?

-Yes, he will. -At your disposal.

Just say the word, and I will crack the churches' domes with my own teeth!

As for me, I wouldn't mind driving

a shiny car across the vault of heaven.

-Bravo! -But we can't linger, because...

Would you like some tea and sandwiches?

Well, sure.

To every single one of them!

Damn, it's good!

Stop!

Ekaterina Dmitrievna, I lied to you.

Will you go with me?

There is no soiree, no book launch...

What is there, then?

It's me and you. And nothing else...

It's a hotel.

Come with me.

Do you love me, Bessonov?

I want you to love me,

just the way I am.

Come, come.

OSTROV

Our household is in disarray.

But the tea and the sausage are first-class, from Eliseev's.

-Here, take a sandwich. -Thank you.

There used to be some sweets, but we have run out of them.

Although, if you let me...

Sorry, what a fool I am.

Why do you say that?

These are my favorite candies.

So, are you a poet, a journalist, an artist...

Oh, none of the above. I'm an engineer

at the Baltic Shipyard.

And your name?

Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.

I'm Ivan Ilyich, Telegin Ivan Ilyich.

Nice to meet you.

Look, how did you end up in such strange company?

Rather, they ended up with me.

-They happen to be my boarders. -Oh, really?

Tell me, then, do you like what they're doing?

They are just fine for me, Daria Dmitrievna.

They are nothing but boys, desperate buffoons,

but brilliant.

Sometimes I come home really frustrated,

but they are fooling around, and it cheers me up.

You know, Ivan Ilyich, I was rather offended...

by these sacrileges.

I consider all this kind of dirty.

It's nothing but jokes,

youthful tomfoolery.

Although, on the other hand,

you are probably right.

They can make jokes among themselves.

But to invite others into these improprieties

is a different story.

I'm sorry, Daria Dmitrievna.

You have nothing to be sorry for.

You didn't say anything improper.

You know, you seem to be a very good person,

much better than you consider yourself to be.

That's it, that's it. Stop it, stop.

Just stop it.

Now you won't have any respect for me.

The bed is no place for respect, my dear.

You don't even know what kind of person I am.

Look here.

We know everything we can about each other.

Don't think too hard.

-Besides, the coach is waiting. -What are you talking about?

I'm saying the coach has been here for half an hour now.

Hurry up, milady. That's it.

Drive!

Let's go!

I was watching your face today.

It was in pain.

That's good, I liked it.

-Would you like some iced tea, Liza? -No, Telegin, I wouldn't.

I never drink tea, you know that.

You must be wondering what strange creature is talking to you, right?

On the contrary, I'm not thinking that at all.

Now, I will tell you: I'm a nobody...

a nonentity, right?

I'm dull and wicked.

And you are exquisite.

She is exquisite, isn't she? Admit, she is.

You are very good-looking, and you know it.

Dozens of men fall in love with you, that's for sure.

Don't argue with me, please, you yourself know that. She knows that.

And it hurts to think about how simply it will all end:

some male will come along, you will have his children and then die,

it's so boring! Really, so boring!

What the hell are you talking about? Liza...

You know, I'd better leave now.

-Farewell. -Daria Dmitrievna!

I beg you not to leave,

I beg you, please! Please!

-Oh, stop it, will you? -Please!

What are you doing here?

What's wrong with your eyes? You look like you've been crying.

It's nothing. It's cold outside. I froze a bit.

-Did you walk? -Yes, I decided to take a stroll.

What about the central camp in the war on domesticity?

Oh, it's nothing but a lot of fools.

The only decent man is Telegin, Ivan Ilyich.

Did you like him?

He is really nice.

But truly speaking, Katya,

I like another man.

Well, it's always nice to feel for somebody.

It will make you happy,

and you deserve happiness.

You know, Katya,

I do like him,

but I doubt it is love.

If you like him, you'll eventually fall in love with him.

It's not that I like him, rather he...

He embarrasses me.

I keep thinking about him,

as though I inhaled some kind of smoke.

He could enter my room,

I wouldn't move,

and he could do anything he wanted with me.

What are you talking about, dear?

Who is this man?

What's his name?

Alexey Alexeyevich Bessonov.

What?

Why is everybody free to do whatever they want, and I am not?

I only kissed one person in my life, a student at the ice rink.

Dasha, Bessonov is a very bad man.

He is dangerous, Dasha.

He will ruin your life; do you hear me?

There will be nothing left. Let it be someone else, not you!

God save you from him, Dasha!

-Are you listening to me? -No.

Forgive me, please.

There is nothing to forgive, you just frightened me.

What is going on here?

You should be sleeping,

go back to bed.

I can't go to sleep without you.

I'm asking you, what is going on?

Well then, Dashenka,

Nikolay Ivanovich and I need to talk. Good night.

Let's go.

Yes?

What do you want, Lisa?

Me? I want you.

What is all this for? What is the point, Liza?

There is something I want to tell you, Ivan Ilyich.

You are nothing...

but a fool.

You are a fool because here I am, now.

You need only stretch out your hand.

I'm not demanding anything.

No, don't stop me, please.

I ask and demand nothing.

So, don't stop me!

As for Daria Dmitrievna, where is she?

She's not here, and won't ever come back.

Please, don't stop me.

And when the storm hits, which will certainly happen,

your sublime mademoiselle will be the first one blown away,

-while I stay here. Do you get that? -Liza.

-Please leave me alone. -Ivan Ilyich!

Ivan Ilyich!

Ivan Ilyich! Open the door!

You've just admitted that you're a fool.

I have.

I'm a fool...

A fool.

Good morning.

Good morning, Dashenka.

What about Katyusha?

Isn't she up yet?

Your sister has been unfaithful to me.

Yes, yes, she confessed.

It hurts, Dashenka. It hurts really bad.

-Who is this? -Katya, open up, it's me.

Not now.

Katya, I need to talk to you.

Dashenka, if you could, please leave me alone for a while.

I want to be alone.

"The mighty winds are roaring high,

pledging their oath to winter.

So do my verses flock to paper, as though from outside.

In these marshes' black waters, the forest and the heavens

and the dark lady comes, and all darkens in a half-hour's time.

The birch grove's shade hastens to hide, scared, inside the foliage.

Just as the moonrise abides

and lurks in solitude.

The desert Earth, shelter to all Ancient hills,

ravines and fields,

still remembers herds of cows

and stinks of the ashes of the plains."

Who is this dark lady of yours?

It's Russia, Agafia,

ready to celebrate the black mass.

-That's terrible! -No, it's not.

-God save us. -"In the dark swamp...

The birch grove's shade hastens to hide, scared, in the foliage.

Just as the moonrise abides and lurks in solitude.

The desert Earth, shelter to all..."

Who is it this time, Agafia?

-Good afternoon. -Hello.

I need to see him.

Ekaterina Dmitrievna, is that you?

It's Daria Dmitrievna.

Oh, at first I didn't recognize you. Please, come in.

-No, no, there is no need. -What can I do for you, then?

Please do forgive me, I...

don't consider myself to be one of your admirers.

I am not here to discuss your verses.

I have come because you have tormented me beyond all means.

It's some kind of illness.

I keep catching myself having thoughts of you.

It's more than I can stand,

so I decided to come

and tell you plainly.

Daria Dmitrievna, I'm not worth these words.

I am spent, wasted. I have had my day.

What can I tell you in return?

Should I invite you to some country hotel?

I have no means to love you.

Several years ago, perhaps, but now, but now...

Stop it. Don't try to console me, don't.

There is one more reason why nothing can happen between us.

-What? -You are too much like your sister,

and I cannot, no matter how much I'd like to,

I have no right to intrude so far into your family.

What are you saying?

You heard me.

Daria Dmitrievna, good afternoon!

Hello.

I beg your pardon, Ivan Ilyich, please, forgive me.

Dasha... Dasha, I'm...

Yes.

It's true.

I don't love Nikolay Ivanovich

and I've been unfaithful to him for quite a long time.

I have been living this filthy life

because I'm just a weak woman.

But you showed up and I got scared

that you would live the same life, sooner or later.

I did my best to save you, I forbade Bessonov to come here.

Thank God, it's over now.

So, it was Bessonov.

Oh, my God, how rotten and mean it is!

Did you think our conversation was over, Katya?

Well, you know me better!

I have been thinking this over and I've come to a conclusion:

I have to kill you!

You won't dare! You won't!

To kill you!

Calm down, now.

Even if he does shoot, he will miss, again, just to scare me.

You are wrong. Oh, how wrong you are.

You are in hysterics.

No, Katya, I'm not.

Shoot, then.

Shoot and kill me.

I'm telling you right to your face that I don't love you.

But you are hurting me.

You are a liar!

You are a liar!

You are lying right now! Go!

Get out of here, go smoke in your office!

Katya!

Oh, my dear Katya, I was so scared for you!

Katya!

Kolya, let's play fair,

for once in our lives.

We don't love each other.

I suppose you are right. To marry in haste and repent at leisure...

We are at a moral dead end, Katya.

What are we to do now?

Let's move apart.

For good?

I don't know. For a while maybe.

-Let's not make plans yet. -Yes, yes, you are right.

Let's not. Let's not.

I will go somewhere, it doesn't matter where.

You should go to the south of France.

You will rest a bit,

come to your senses, and recover your wits.

Maybe you will be able to appreciate...

I can't afford to go to the south of France at the moment.

I will give you money...

ten thousand, or even twelve.

Thank you.

Yes.

LEONID MIKHAILOVICH NEIMYONOV DIED YESTERDAY

She said, "Get out of here,"

and the professor was in shock, I saw it myself.

He just couldn't handle all this, poor man. It's the nerves.

These days, you must have iron nerves,

otherwise you cannot survive.

That vile creature killed him, I say.

He was quite old, by the way.

Bulavina, where are you going?

If you decide to skip classes, I have your truancy record.

The tram stops here, let's get out!

Dashka! Bulavina! Bulavina!

-We're getting off. -Boys, I need to catch the tram.

What tram? It terminates here.

-Let's go, let's go! -Where are you going?

Off we go, the tram stops here.

We're going to a secret place.

Good afternoon.

We will tell you for sure, but not now.

Antosha!

-Let's go, this is our tram. -Get in.

Alexander! Here is the rod of power!

Now, make way!

Those without tickets, up top! Up you go, now!

Antosha, meet them there.

-Gentlemen. -Get in, fine.

-Well, here you go. Make way. -Gentlemen!

-Gentlemen! -Daria Dmitrievna Bulavina...

-is on this tram! -Make way!

Well, Daria Dmitrievna may get tram-sick,

so she must sit by the window. Gentlemen!

Hello, young lady! It's for you.

-And this is for you, my love. -Stop it, stop it!

-Excuse me, please. -Stay calm.

I'm sorry, gentlemen, I've stepped on somebody's foot.

-It's my fault! -Pardon. Gentlemen, excuse me.

We need to get to the window, sorry, gentlemen.

Daria Dmitrievna is coming, look.

Here it is, Daria Dmitrievna, the window.

What is it, have we arrived? The tram stops here.

BALTIC SHIPYARD

Where are you going?

To the office. I'm an engineer.

We have an engineer. No strikers are allowed.

I'm an engineer.

Not allowed.

There is no fear of God in you!

Comrades!

Comrades!

-Vladimir Albertovich! -Good afternoon.

Have you been here long?

Ivan Ilyich!

I came about fifteen minutes ago. I haven't any idea what's going on here.

Cossacks, comrades! We are not your enemies!

We seek happiness for all Russians.

We want to do away with this tyranny.

We can't have any riots.

We have given an oath of allegiance.

-Cossacks, brothers! -Hey, brother!

Pull your pants up, you might lose them.

Ivan Ilyich!

-Comrades! -Ivan Ilyich!

Read this! From the Central Committee!

Read this, please! Here you are!

We stay here!

We will stand by our demands!

You are not alone!

The railroad workers are discussing

a general uprising right this moment!

Ivan Ilyich!

The authorities are panicking!

Long live the revolution!

Long live the revolution!

Ivan Ilyich!

Young Lady, get up! Run!

You'll get trampled to death!

Hurry! Run!

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