All language subtitles for Nijinsky 1980 -

NIJINSKY

FEBRUARY, 1912, BUDAPEST
[Speaking Hungarian]

Have monsieur Diaghilev's
mail ready.

Thank you. What a filthy...

Ho! Ho!
[horse neighs]

Keep that
damned horse away from me!

God knows what germs
it's harboring!

Thank you.

- Good evening.
- Thank you.

You have a strong back.

You could be a dancer.

- How old are you?
- 12, sir.

Hmm. Too old.

Thank you.

Vassilli.

Vassilli!

Oh, uh, Sergei Pavlovich.

- Is that goose grease I smell?
- I rubbed his chest with it.

- How is he?
- Asleep.

Let him rest.

Germs.

Ah. Well, in that case...

Goose grease.

Hmm.

Vassilli.

How are you?

- I'll be able to dance tomorrow.
- Good.

A present.

- So things went well in Paris?
- A spring season at the opera,

summer season at the Chatelet,

and my greatest triumph...

Covent Garden next spring.

- You went to England, too?
- I certainly did.

- On a boat?
- It was for the company.

It was a question of sink or swim.

I decided to look up 'channel'
in the dictionary. And it says,

"channel... a hollow bed
in which a body of water runs or may run,"

clearly indicating that the
English channel is not the sea.

And since her warning specified
that my death would occur at sea...

- How ingenious.
- I thought so, too.

I was terrified of course,
I was sick all over the boat,

but I'm here, I'm safe and I'm sound,

and I pulled it off,
the Marchioness of Ripon,

two duchesses, a Turkish lady with a mustache
have agreed to underwrite the entire season.

I'm always telling you,
women have their uses.

- Areyou going to open that present?
- What is it?

Wait and see. Needless to say
it is not a huge sapphire ring.

I leave all that
to your admirers.

It's a hot afternoon.

He's basking in the sun,
this creature...

half boy, half beast,

too young to have
experienced sex,

yet it is stirring in him.

I'm scared about it out of my wits.
-Why?

If I know the great Fokine,
his Daphnis and Chloe

will be about as Greek
as Easterly Nijny Novgorod.

You leave Mischa to
the old ladies and schoolgirls.

Whereas you, you will have all Paris
by the ears. I know it.

Don't you trust me by now?

Only a fool would trust you, Sergei,
but I trust you.

How wise.

Athens, ahh. Just think it.

Only three weeks off.

I can't wait to show you it...

National museum,
the Acropolis, Delphi.

Not too much culture.
Please? It's my holiday.

I just want to sleep late,

eat like a cow,

and wander through
the olive groves.

Watching beautiful
shepherd boys.

That's you, not me.

Touché.

It's good to have you back.

Is it?

Not a germ got through.

I swear.

Well...

Well...

Common sense should
prevail, shouldn't it?

Hmm?

It's the other bedroom
tonight, isn't it?

If you say so.

Good night, Vatsa.

Good night, old monster.

Tamara! Mmm!

I can't believe it.
You up at this hour.

It's unheard of.

Tamara Karsavina,
if you were noble enough

to travel thousands of miles
from St. Petersburg

just to come to our rescue
for 14 performances,

well, the least I can do
is to risk double pneumonia.

How touching.
What are we dancing tonight?

We are dancing tonight Spectre for Vaslav
and Firebird for you.

Stop!

Maestro, darling,

I just this minute arrived
from St. Petersburg.

Tamara Karsavina,

you think you big star now, huh?

So, big star,
you don't come to class on time.

To me you are still
the same little rat

with a sniveling nose
and the pigtails.

No stars here. Here you work!

Now go to the barre! Go!

Go!

After class.

Silenzio.

Now we do battements frappés.

1, 2.

- M. Diaghilev!
- Maestro.

Now you do 16.

Now...

And 1, 2, 3...

Straighten your knee!

Straighten! Oh!

Please, higher arm.

Higher. Better.

Out.

- These?
- No. Too much.

Yes.

- Will you really see
Nijinsky tonight?
- I hope so.

I could kill mother
for not letting me go with you.

- Well, are we ready?
- Oh, mother, if only you knew.

You're destroying my soul.

Well, you'll just have to learn
to make do without one.

Little girls have supper at 6:30

do their homework
and go to bed by 9:00.

Oh, Romola, do hurry.

It is disrespectful
to the artists of the theater

to be late.

I'm coming, mother.

Good night.

9:00. 9:00. Remember.

Now, Romola, please hurry. Come.

Why should I
take you seriously, my darling?

Last winter, after
the Rodin exhibition,

if you recall,

you were going
to be Hungary's first great sculptress.

Before that, it I can get the chronology correct,
it was a poetess, a composer,

and, oh, yes, when we
saw Bernhardt in Paris...

Mother, please don't make fun of me.

It's not too late for me to be a dancer.

I know I can do it.

I took those ballet lessons when I was little

and if I very work hard...

Couldn't you invite Mr. Diaghilev to dinner.

I'm sure he would see how serious I am.

I don't think
he'd see you at all,

and speaking as a
successful actress,

I can assure you,

it is not at the top

that a serious career begins.

It is at the bottom.

Where?

There. There.

Every time there
are petals missing.

It's a scandal, Vaslav darling.

It's one of the girls in wardrobe, I'm sure of it.

She sells them at the stage door
as souvenirs of the great Nijinsky.

If only I could get my hands on her, the bitch.

Stand still, or I'll prick you.

May I have the light, please?

Lower.

Good.

Why were the box office
receipts down last night?

Vaslav didn't appear.

Hmm.

Did you call the Chatelet?

Yes. They've tried to add two extra benefits
without changing the contract.

I'll soon put a stop to that.

That bill for the chandelier hire and the other
has come in again.

- Didn't we pay it?
- Apparently, not.

- How much?
- 30,000 marks.

Oh, good God.

Gabriel?

Gabriel, do you know who the most
expensive mistress in the world is?

Matilda Kschessinska,
I would say.

That's a very good try, my friend, but no.

The most expensive mistress
in the world is art.

Monsieur de Diaghilev.

The Ballets Russes is a monstrous
money-eating machine,

its mouth ever gaping for
more rubles, pounds, lire, francs.

Well, I'll wait.

When I lie sleepless
in bed at night,

it's not masterpieces
I'm thinking of, it's cash, cash.

Where will it come from?

If only beauty and cash
were Siamese twins.

But they're not.

You'd better go back
to the box office.

I don't like the look
of the house manager.

Yes?

Ah well, if you can't get him
in 10 minutes,

try the Lausanne number.

Ah! Mischa!

I'm not making a complaint,

but as choreographer
of this company,

and, I think, I'm correct im calling myself
the sole choreographer by contract,

I'm merely asking a question.

- Is it true?
- Is what true, Mischa, dear?

Is it true you are planning to let Vaslav
do a ballet of his own?

Mischa, dear.

Whether it's true or not true,

I fail to see how that should make
you feel threatened?

Did I say I feel threatened?

I look at that face,

and what I see
is threatened, Mischa.

Mischa...

Isn't this a little childish?

You are the great Fokine.

You're the most talented,
the most celebrated choreographer in the world.

Without your unique talent,

the Ballets Russes would be nothing
but a madman's dream.

You are unchallengeable,
so what if Vaslav...

- Then it is true.
- I didn't say that.

Next to you, Vaslav is our most
valuable asset.

Now he's not always easy for me to handle.

You know that.

So, I mean,

if I should feel it
necessary to, uh...

indulge a whim,

I'm sure that you, as my friend,

would not want to make it
more difficult for me.

He is a very strange boy.

You'd better hurry, Vassilli.
I think we're late.

I hate these functions.

Do I have to go?

Of course.

Where is it tonight?

At the Argentine Embassy.

Be sure to be charming
to the ambassador.

I've heard he's an ardent admirer of yours.

You never know, one day we may have to
go to Buenos Aires.

Sergei, have you ever done
anything without an ulterior motive?

Let me think.

Once.

When was that?

At approximately 9:15 P.M.

On the 3rd of June, 1909...

In a squalid little hotel
off the avenue de l'Opéra,

I threw discretion to the winds,

and I asked you to live with me.

Needless to say,
I've regretted it ever since.

Thank you.

Move this lamp.

Tamara, my darling,

shoulders passe.

Now.

Keep your neck long.

Hold it. Thank you.

Grigoriev.

Ah, Sergei.

Vatsa. Mischa.

Adolph. Have you
everything you want?

Everything. Thank you.

Tamara, how do you
like your new headdress?

I can't do anything.

But it looks
wonderful, wonderful.

Monsieur Diaghilev hasn't
come this way, has he?

He just went in.

How silly.

I thought we were
meeting at the stage door.

One moment, madam.

It's all right. I know the way.

Do the dates work?

You'll leave for Athens

the day after you close here.

You come back March 24th.

You have a week in Greece

before rehearsals
in Monte Carlo.

- Good.
- Monsieur Diaghilev...

Hotels and train tickets?

They'll be ready this afternoon.

Monsieur Nijinsky, I...

Come down.

It's marvelous from here.

Come on. Look at that.

It's... it's so beautiful.

Sergei.

This is the right
period, isn't it?

Don't you worry about period.
That's Leon's job.

Your job is to be the faun.

When you've become it,

your body will do the rest.

Have you ever
slept with a woman?

Three times.

Three and a half times,
to be exact.

Half? When was the half time?

Well...

I suddenly said
to myself in the middle,

"this is ridiculous."

And I got up,

and I went home.

What was it like?

Well, it was
rather like, you know,

wrestling.

With a pillow.

- Why?
- Oh, I was just thinking.

If I had never become a dancer,

if I had never met you,

I'd have been just another
Polish peasant, like my uncle

getting up at dawn
to milk the cows,

plowing the fields,

eating cabbage soup,

and making love to my wife
every Saturday night.

Vatsa.

If you hadn't met me,

if you hadn't become a dancer,

you wouldn't be a Polish peasant

making love to your wife.

You'd be looking for
the richest shepherd.

Vaslav, don't sulk.

We are what we are.
We shouldn't forget it.

La bayadere.

Beautiful, Leon.

Bravo.

The youth and the maiden.

Really, Leon,
you've gone too far.

That's my special treat
for the pederasts.

I consider that costume
in abominable taste.

Taste is not
your concern, Mischa.

It's mine.
My taste is impeccable,

Even when it's bad.

Thank you, Tata.

Thank you, Max. Next?

Blue God.

You've really
made it impossible.

I should dispense
with the dances

and just rehearse the costumes.

That's as near as I
ever get to a compliment.

How my ego has survived
all these years...

What do you think, Vatsa?

It weighs a ton.

My darling little Vatsa,

You like the beautiful costume
uncle Leon made you?

Everything you do
is beautiful, Leon. Show me.

This...

tis is the faun costume,

and this is the backcloth.

Mischa, come look at the costumes
for Vaslav's ballet.

This is the faun costume.
That's the backcloth.

What do you think?

And... and here...
is the tall nymph.

I was thrilled
when I got your letter.

I could hardly believe it.

I thought you'd
forgotten about me.

My best school friend?

Oh, but I wasn't.

You know I wasn't.

Not your best friend.

In fact, I thought
you despised me.

But then, in those days,

I thought everyone despised me

because of my spots.

They've gone now.

Yes. So I see.

Oh, Magda, you're
so sweet to let me come.

Oh, don't be silly.

Mother's delighted,
and we've got a huge villa.

There's oceans of room.

We'll have such fun, Romola.

Monte Carlo's so exciting.

Parties every night.

And the Ballets Russes are here.

They're marvelous.

We've been three times already.

How wonderful.

Papa's on the board
of the opera.

We have our own seats
for the whole season.

Speaking of the devil... Look.

That's the Baron de Gunzburg.

He's monsieur
Diaghilev's patron.

He's tremendously rich.

Papa says he pays
for half the bills for the ballet

out of his own pocket.

You know him?

Of course. He comes to dinner
all the time.

He's so amusing.

Dreadfully scandalous,
of course.

- They say he likes boys.
- What for?

Well, to sleep with, silly.

Oh, Romola... don't say

I've become
more sophisticated than you.

Isn't it exquisite, Mon Cher?

They don't make buttocks
like that anymore.

- Mischa, please.
- Don't be so stuffy, Sergei.

My feelings are purely aesthetic.
It costs the earth.

No doubt. I hope you've been
to the bank since.

- How much this time?
- I don't know exactly.

The bills are there.
Take a look.

Vassilli, a pencil
for the baron.

28,000, it seems.

You owe me some
from last week, too.

I don't remember how much.

That stupid new valet of mine
sent my shirt to the laundry

before I could
write it in my book.

May I ask you
a rather naive question?

Sergei, you couldn't
be naive if you tried.

Why are you so generous to me?

Generous? Am I generous?
It never occurred to me.

Dear friend,

if God had made you
as frivolous a creature as I,

you'd wake up at night

screaming at the hollowness
of your existence

unless you felt you were
contributing a little

to the only important
thing in life... art.

Oh, listen to me.

I sound exactly like
those English spinster ladies

who live in pensiones
off the Ponte Vecchio

and write checks
to restore the frescoes.

My masseur's tapping his heels.

I'll show him this.

It may give him
some interesting ideas.

Ha ha ha! Mitya...

Next time you wake up screaming,

remember I love you.

Oh, no, no, no.

That would be
far too stimulating.

Oh, Mischa.

Baron. I've just one question.

Is Daphnis and Chloe
still scheduled for Paris?

Of course, Mischa dear.

And I'm sure it will be

one of the season's
distinguished highlights.

- When will it be scheduled?
- Uh... Let me see.

Well, you've got, uh
Le dieu bleu to finish first.

And then there's the restaging
of Giselle

for Karsavina.

So I would think that Daphnis

would come fairly late
in the season.

After they've seen Vaslav's
L'apres-midi d'un faune?

Ah...

I would hate you to think

that I've been
in any way devious.

I was going to explain
everything to you.

In Budapest,
I tried to indicate...

That you might have
trouble handling your male...

protege.

And it might be necessary
to indulge his whim.

Do you call indulging his whim

letting him use
my subject matter, my designer,

letting him use Debussy
when I'm using Ravel?

Cancel this ridiculous
project immediately!

I will...

If you try foisting your...

What, Mischa?

Can't you see what you're doing?

Vaslav is a nice boy
and a genius as a dancer,

but trying to make
a choreographer

out of a simple
little Polish peasant

just because you fancy him...

You're blinding yourself,

you're humiliating the company,

and you're probably destroying Vaslav
into the bargain.

I warn you, for your sake
more than for us,

drop the project or...

Or what?

What?

Mischa, this sounds
dangerously like an ultimatum.

May I remind you,

in case you've forgotten,

nobody in this company
delivers ultimatums

except myself.

Oddly enough, I have not
the slightest intention

of destroying Vaslav or
humiliating the company.

I have decided that he will do
L'apres-midi d'un faune.

So, unless you wish
to incur my wrath...

which they tell me can be quite
an unnerving spectacle...

Shall we leave it at that?

If you wish to hand in
your resignation,

that will be a different matter.

Surely monsieur Fokine
won't be leaving us?

He can't till his contract expires
in November.

But that is not
what depresses me.

It's, uh...

Vassilli...

Do you know the one
tragic fact about creative artists?

What do I know of anything,
Sergei Pavlovich?

Most of them have only so much genius
to give the world.

Sooner or later,
they reach their limits.

Every new ballet is
just an old ballet with a new hat on.

It's beginning to happen
to Mikhail Fokine.

I've seen it for some time now.

So if he goes, he goes.

It's sad, of course.

But I've always made it
a cardinal rule of this company

that no one person
is indispensable.

There can be no room
for sentiment

or misplaced loyalty
to yesterday's heroes.

My eye must always
be on the future,

which, thank heaven,
in this case...

is Nijinsky.

[Orchestra plays:]
[Scheherazade]

Oh, Magda...

If only I could meet Diaghilev.

That's easy.
Tonight at the party

I'll introduce you
to the Baron de Gunzburg,

- and he will intro...
- That's what I thought.

Oh, Romola, you're terrible.

I ought to be furious with you.

Perhaps he'll
fall in love with you

and marry you.

Idiot.

Ha ha ha!

As I was saying, my dear,

you're pretty enough to eat,

which is more
than half the battle.

Madame Bloch!
What a charming gown!

Diaghilev would kill me
for telling you his secret, but...

dear Micheline...

Whenever he does
take on girl students,

it's more or less
for window dressing,

to decorate
fund-raising functions,

and eventually of course,

to give the dirty old men
in the audience...

Good evening, admiral...

something to ogle
in the corps de ballet.

Does that discourage you?

Nothing will
discourgage me, baron.

I find that very easy
to believe, my dear.

Hello, my dear Dmitri.

I'm sure the young lady's
boring you to death,

so I'm prepared to
take her off your hands.

Adolph, dear,
don't be a nuisance.

Go away.

Tata! Cherie.

Hmm...

Ah, Sergei, mon Cher!

Just the person
we're looking for.

Here's a very
strong-minded young woman

who has conquered me
in less than 10 minutes

and is about to conquer you
in five.

Allow me to present
Mademoiselle de Pulsky

from one of the most distinguished
and affluent families of Budapest.

Monsieur Diaghilev.

You haven't seen
Mimi Chodorov, have you?

Fortunately,
I've been spared that pleasure.

Oh, it's too tiresome.

She insists on teaching me a dance
called the bunny hug.

I tremble to think of her
all-engulfing bosom bunny-hugging me.

Oh! There she is.

Well, mademoiselle,

will you conquer me
standing up or sitting down?

Please take me seriously.

I worship your ballet.
I long to become a part of it.

I know I'm rather old
to become a dancer, but...

Yes, this is going to be
a sitting-down encounter.

Come. Let's find somewhere.

I know you take students
now and then,

and you'll never find anyone
more willing to work than I.

And I'll pay.
It doesn't matter how much.

Please give me this chance.

Dmitri de Gunzburg
is right, my dear.

Napoleon himself would surrender

faced with such
a heavy artillery barrage.

Then you'll let me?

As you may know,
we have as our ballet master

the famous, the formidable
maestro Cecchetti.

He's a difficult man to please.

If he'll take you on
as a private pupil,

I see no reason
why you shouldn't travel with us

and eventually perhaps

become a minor member
of the corps de ballet.

- Thank you.
- Provided your parents consent.

Mama has every faith in me.

Where could I reach
maestro Cecchetti?

You came prepared
for everything, I see.

Cecchetti has a flat here.
12 rue de la poste.

Monsieur Diaghilev,
I can never thank you enough

for your tremendous kindness.

A little thanks
will do, my dear.

Hmm... Pretty girl. Very pretty.

- How old?
- 19.

Monsieur Diaghilev, he knows?

Yes. He says if
you'd take me on...

Oh, please, maestro.

Lessons from me, very expensive.

That doesn't matter at all.

No big parties,

no eating like pig,

and no silly flirts!

Come here.

Hmm! Here, more thin!

And here...

Hard muscle.

Sometimes a little
kiss for the maestro,

Eh, mamma?

Si, Enrico.

You mean you will...

How you know what I mean?

Only I know what I mean!

Now listen to me,

go back to Budapest,

find the best teacher there,
work, work, and work.

Then come back and show me.

And if...

lessons from me, very expensive.

Oh, maestro, thank you so much.

Already she give
the kiss, mamma.

Crystallized rose petals.

I'd much rather
eat them than wear them.

How many times do I have to dance
Spectre in Paris?

Six. Why?

Are Mischa's ballets
as boring as I'm beginning to think?

No, not boring.

Just fading...

As are we all.

Speak for yourself.

Nobody loves a fat faun.

Good morning, Sergei.

- Bonjour, monsieur.
- Morning, Olga.

This is incredible.

Daphnis... A premiere,

to be the first ballet
of the evening?

And at 7:30... half an hour
earlier than usual.

It's going to be a long evening.

And therefore I have my opening

with no critics
and only half a house!

Are you so frightened

my ballet will make Vaslav's ridiculous
effort more idiotic than it is?

Are you willing
to destroy the company

merely to indulge
the pathetic pretensions of your lover?

This is madness, and
it's the result of your relationship...

Monsieur Fokine,

you have already
made your opinion

of my relationship
with Vaslav perfectly clear.

As it means so much to you...

I will reschedule Daphnis,

which as your
last ballet for the Ballets Russes,

it will, I'm sure, receive full
critical attention.

You will remain with us
till your contract has expired,

and then you will be free

to employ your
talents elsewhere.

Please leave the theater.

Maestro, I apologize.

Could you please
go back to letter "C"?

Thank you.

Oh, Mischa...

Could you put
your rehearsal of Daphnis forward...

Filthy little pederast's whore.

Tata!

Vaslav, my angel!

Aah!

I'm early, can you believe it?

The Saint Petersburg
flyer pulled into the Gare du Nord

two hours early.

Did Sergei tell you

I finally got
the leave of absence for London?

- I can play the whole season.
- That's wonderfull.

Oh, how selfish of me.

Premiere of Faun's
tomorrow, isn't it?

Tomorrow.

Good luck, my darling.

How do you feel?

Oh, fine. Absolutely fine.

- Will I hate it?
- Probably.

Wonderful!
I'm such an old fogey.

If I hate it,
it's sure to be a triumph.

Last Tuesday,
I even threw Sergei out of rehearsal.

You did not.

- How did he take it?
- Quite meekly.

Good heavens!

Things certainly are changing.

What does that mean?

You standing up to him
in front of the whole company?

- I'm sure he didn't like that.
- Why not?

- What am I supposed to be, his...
- I'm sorry, darling.

What an idiotic thing to say.

Forget it.

No. No, go on.

Would you describe
me as a filthy pederast's whore?

Vaslav.

That's what
Mikhail Fokine called me

half an hour ago.

There's only one thing
that matters, my darling.

Love.

And when you've
found it, cling to it.

I cling to my love for you.

We do love each other, don't we?

Of course.

Aye, Tata. Ever since
I can remember,

when you picked me from
the graduating class.

I picked you because
you were by far the best.

I was no fool.

That is something
very nice to remember.

[Orchestra plays:
L'apres-midi d'un faune]

- Aah.
- Aah.

Boo! Boo! Boo!

[Boos mixed with scant applause]

When did you decide to do that?

For God's sake,
why did you do that?

You know what you've done?

You've just masturbated
in front of all Paris!

It wasn't me.

It was the faun.

Boo!

Boo!

Vaslav, you must see
what we've done!

Tonight we've broken through
to an entirely new art.

If we've created
a scandal into the bargain,

well, who cares?

There won't be an empty
seat the whole season.

Vaslav, this is
the most exciting evening of my life,

because it's shown me
all my instincts were right.

Why did I do it?

Why did it happen?

Tell me.

You must know.

Doing something...

And hardly knowing
that you're doing it...

As if someone else was doing it.

That's being mad, isn't it?

It won't happen, will it?

I won't be like my brother!

Things happen... Or they don't.

Go on day to day,

letting the future
take care of itself.

But one thing is certain...

I've found my new choreographer.

[Piano plays:
Sacre du printemps]

What shall we call it?

Um, Princess Tenichev
suggests...

Sacre du printemps.

Well, uh...

Sacre du printemps it will be.

All right, Vaslav. Once more.

And 1...

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

No?

Right. We'll try again.

3, 4, 5. 1, 2... No! No!

Vaslav, no!

Listen! 1, 2, 3. 1, 2. 1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3. And 1 and 2 and

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.

1 and 2 and 1 and 2 and

1 and 2 and 1!

Again, please!

And...

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. 1!

The boy's hopeless.
He can't do it.

He can do it,
and he's going to do it.

He hardly understands
music at all,

has no ear.

- He can't even count.
- Well, who can count

that diabolically
complicated score of yours?

Any trained musician.

Get one, for god's sake,

and let them count!

Let Vaslav get on
with what really matters...

The ballet itself.

Sergei, my dear friend.

Loving someone...

doesn't automatically

turn him into
something he's not.

It doesn't?

Thank you very much.

Next time I need some spiritual
or psychological advice,

I'll know where to come.

I meant...

I know what you meant.

I didn't choose Vaslav

for Sacre du printemps
because I sleep with him.

I chose him
because he's a genius.

I chose you, too.

So, my friend,

restrict yourself to your...

key changes and your counts,

or you can go back
to St. Petersburg, of course.

Give your piano lessons again.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1,2,3,4, 5.

- Again!
- 1, 2...

1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

1, 2, 3. 1...

Louder!

4, 5. 1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5...

2, 3, 4.

Again!

Count.

[Piano plays]

1, 2, 3, 4, 5...

Count!

Louder!

1, 2, 3...

Louder!

1, 2...

Louder! All right, stop!

Can't you hear
the rhythm in the music?

Do it with me! Play!

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

1, 2. 1, 2.

1, 2. 1, 2.

1, 2, 3, 4.

Shake!

What is going on in here?

Maria Piltz.

I've shown her a thousand times,

and she still
doesn't understand!

You shouted at her
in front of the whole company.

You let Stravinsky shout at me.

I'm the choreographer here.

If I'm going to get this ballet done,
I've got to do it my way

unless, since
you're so creative,

you'd rather do it yourself.

Come back here!

Must I remind you

nobody speaks to me that way?

It's about time somebody did.

Where is madame Piltz?

Where is she?

She's gone to her dressing room,

Sergei Pavlovich.

Go and apologize to her at once.

And since you're
so concerned about the count,

next time you feel
a tantrum coming on,

count to 10.

Don't fret so, dear boy.

I need time,
that's all.

Well, of course, you do.

And if it was I and not Sergei,

I'd be treating you

like the tenderest
of baby lambs.

You know Sergei can be merciless

when he's not getting his way.

What about my way?

Dearest boy,

I'll tell you something that,

wildly indiscreet though I am,

I've never breathed to a soul.

Sometimes when I'm lying in bed,

I dream that I have
a ballet company all my own

with a great star
dancer all my own,

just like you...
Just like Sergei.

The ballet de Gunzburg.

And I think

oh, what marvels of
delicacy and style

we would create.

But then...

about 3:00 in
the morning usually,

I get out of bed

and look at this
ridiculous face in the mirror...

Half admiral, half maiden aunt...

And I think, "bloody old fool",

"you're no Diaghilev.

"You couldn't even run

a gingerbread stall
at the fair."

Ah, me.

How sad to have
to go through life

with the face of a cabbage
and the soul of an aesthete.

Shall I tell you
something even worse?

Sometimes I hate
Sergei Pavlovich Diaghilev.

Even while I'm pouring money

down his insatiable gullet,

I think...

"Wouldn't it be lovely

to read your obituary
in Le Figaro?"

Alas, it's my misfortune

to have been born with
all the least appetizing

of human frailties
and none of the virtues.

You really shouldn't, Vaslav.

Aren't you dancing tonight?

Of course I'm dancing tonight.

When am I not dancing?

How much time do you
need to finish Sacre?

I couldn't possibly
be ready for the Paris season.

What if... out of homage to you,

I told them I would finance

the rest of the rehearsals?

Dimitri, you mean that?

But then, of course,
it's essential

that we have
at least one new ballet

to open in Paris.

If you only just happened

to have another idea
up your sleeve

for a simpler, shorter ballet

just to...

fill in as it were...

With perhaps a note
in the program reading,

"commissioned by
the Baron Dimitri
de Gunzburg."

But I have one.

Of course I do.

To a score by Debussy.
Jeux. It's about games.

Tennis.

Not actual tennis,
but using tennis

to show the way
people come together.

The first thing that happens...

A ball rolls onto the stage.

A young man in tennis
clothes holding a racket

leaps across the stage

and disappears.

Two young girls enter.

They obviously have
a secret to share.

They start to dance

and suddenly stop.

They have heard
the rustle of leaves.

The young man is spying on them.

They move to run away,

but he urges them
to play tennis with him.

It isn't real, of course.

The feeling is mysterious.

He begins to flirt
with one of them.

The other, jealous,

dances to attract his attention.

He shifts to her,

then back to the first girl.

Back and forth
until the three of them,

as if in a three-way
love affair,

challenge each other.

Partners one moment,

changing partners the next.

Merging again and again

in stranger and evermore
complicated relationships.

[Orchestra plays Jeux]

They didn't understand.

They usually don't.

You're just lucky when they do.

When is London?

In two weeks.

Then two weeks in Barcelona,

three in Monte Carlo,

then Paris again.

And Sacre, correct?

Correct.

Dressing rooms, hotel rooms.

There's nothing else
in the world.

Paris, Vienna, Dresden, Madrid.

All the same dressing rooms,

same hotel rooms.

Is St. Petersburg
really set for autumn?

September.

I signed for
the Narodny Theater this morning.

Four months, and I'll be
in my own bed at mother's.

Was it really bad tonight?

Teacher really thinks
you're ready to go to London

to audition
for maestro Cecchetti?

Yes, mother.

I'm proud of you.

You worked like a slave.

I didn't know you had it in you.

Tell me one thing.

Why is it so important to you?

I thought you
might have guessed.

Apparently I'm
not very perceptive.

[Orchestra plays Prince Igor]

[Applause]

1, dum,

and 2, dum.

Now, soutenue.

Put the heels down now.

Developpe to the side.

Arabesque. Equilibre.

Oh, put your foot down.

A good dancer never,

but perhaps just good enough.

To take class with the company?

To sometimes be on the stage?

You work so hard for so little?

It's not little for me.

It's all I want.

Will you take me?

Lessons very expensive.

Oh, maestro, thank you.

When can I start?

Tomorrow.

And now you take me
to good, costly lunch,

costly...

but not good.

For, alas, this is London,

not Milano.

I really am touched.

Awfully good of you
to arrange this.

Nonsense, Lady Ripon.
It's no trouble at all.

Vaslav's delighted
to dance for your guests.

[Piano plays Carnaval]

I must speak to Sergei.
Where is he?

Down there.

Oh, yes.

Vous permettez, excellence.

Oui.

They've just telephoned from
St. Petersburg.

The Narodny Theater
has burned down.

Poor Vaslav.

He won't get to Russia, will he?

There are no other
theaters available.

St. Petersburg
will have to be canceled.

Yes.

It's too late to get bookings

anywhere else in Europe.

Three winter months

with nothing.

Sergei Pavlovich,

what are we going to do?

Why does nobody ever think

that I can have an idea?

He's quite a bore, of course,

but, uh... Sergei...

Do you remember that
Argentine ambassador in Budapest

who was so very
taken with Vaslav?

I've just been talking to him.

He's wearing the most
unfortunate perfume, of course.

Even so...

Do you think you can manage Brazil
and Montevideo also?

You may consider it settled,
monsieur Diaghilev.

September to November.

I'll make the arrangements
tomorrow.

Monsieur Nijinsky,

South America
will become your slave.

Now follow me.

Last exercise.

Position.

1...

2...

3.

1...

2...

3.

Now look well
into the palm of your hand.

2...

And 3.

Last one.

1...

2...

Over and bring the head down

as you come down.

1...

2...

Open.

3.

C'est fini.

Arrivederci, mes enfants.

Monsieur Nijinsky.

I'm new in the company.
Romola de Pulsky.

I thought I should
introduce myself.

I wish you great success

with Sacre du printemps.

Thank you.

Bless us in our work.

Bless us in our work.

[Orchestra plays
Sacre du printemps]

Boo!

Boo!

Boo!

Boo!

Apres le dentiste!

Ha ha ha!

Boo!

Boo!

Boo!

Boo!

- Boo!
- Boo!

- Boo!
- Boo!

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3, 4.

- Boo! - Boo!
- Boo!

May I have your attention?

Control yourselves! Be quiet!

Keep your voices...

- Boo!
- Boo!

Let the performance...

- Boo!
- Boo!

Let the performance continue!

4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10!

Please, please,
ladies and gentlemen!

Please! Don't!

1, 2...

The dancers
cannot hear the music!

Please be quiet!

Please take your seats!

Hold yourself!

5, 6. 1, 2, 3!

1, 2, 3, 4, 5,

6, 7, 8, 9, 10!

1, 2, 3, 4, 5,

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

1, 2, 3, 4.

Don't, please! Please! Quiet!

2, 3, 4, 5, 6. 1, 2...

Shake!

Please!

"And the dancing...
if it can be called dancing...

"is as absurd as it
is pretentious.

"We're submitted
to 35 interminable
minutes

"of barbaric boredom.

"How sad that a dancer

"of such incomparable power
as Nijinsky

"has seen fit to
reveal to the world

"that as a ballet master

"he is totally devoid of ideas

and even common sense."

Le figaro.

He's still very young, Sergei.

Perhaps you expected too much.

Stravinsky said
he couldn't handle it.

He said it in the first week.

How's Vaslav feeling?

I don't know.

We haven't talked.

Ahh...

He's asleep now.

Sergei,

I hate to bring this up, but...

We've got to start thinking

about the next season.

The Richard Strauss ballet

is very ambitious, too.

I do think that perhaps we
should consider...

approaching someone
else for Joseph.

I was so sure.

Why do you like
the beach so much

when you're
frightened of the sea?

That's why.

Looking at it
from a safe distance

is mildly titillating,
like watching a caged tiger.

You really believe
the fortuneteller.

How old were you
when she told you?

8.

Poor Sergei.

If you're going
to die by drowning,

you're going to die by drowning.

There's nothing you can do.

Perhaps the ship
to South America will sink.

That's quite enough about that.

Couldn't you telephone Germany?

Strauss could send
the Joseph score
here.

I could begin work
on the ballet before we sail.

Well... This is supposed
to be a holiday.

We will take the score
with us, won't we?

It may not be ready in time.

But it's going
to be three months.

Faune, Jeux, Sacre.

Three ballets in one year.

Now, that's more than enough.

You need a rest.

Why? Mischa never needed a rest.

Mischa? Well.

Mischa was... Mischa.

What's that supposed to mean?

He could turn out successes,

and all I have
are scandals and failures?

You're being foolish.
Go build sand castles.

Why do you treat
me like a child?

You behave like a child.

Why don't you come
for a walk down the beach?

You need it.
You're getting fatter.

Fat becomes a gentleman
of my position.

I'm quite happy sitting here

watching these boys.

Do they excite you?

Of course.

Then why don't you
do something about it?

If I wanted to...

I would.

Is Leon doing
the Joseph costumes?

Possibly.

Joseph, of course, should
be practically naked

to inflame Potiphar's wife.

I should wear a loin cloth...

very brief.

Vaslav.

Don't you think you
might be a little old for Joseph?

Old?

He's meant to be 15.

What are you saying?

Am I not to do the ballet?

You're going to do the ballet.

But with all the other
roles you dance,

it might be easier

to get a child to play the part.

Like the pretty boys
that excite you.

Not old, like me.

Hello.

It's a beautiful night.

Yes.

Uh...

You want to be my friend?

Come with me.

I'm sorry.

I must ask you to leave.

But...

I said... Leave.

Vatsa!

You've got it
all wrong, you know.

Of course, I enjoy
watching those boys.

I wouldn't be human if I didn't.

But watching them
has nothing to do

with actually wanting them.

I never wanted anyone.

I never think of anyone.

Oh, yes.

But, then, you see,
you're not 40.

I suppose the time
has come at last

to actually say it.

- I love you, Vatsa.
- Don't!

I don't want you!

I can't breathe
with you! I can't think!

All these years, never alone!

I can do great ballets
if only I was left alone!

But with you pushing, pushing,

making my head confused...

- Do you really mean that?
- I mean it.

People shouldn't say
what they don't mean, you know.

You really want to be away
from me for a while?

Yes.

Why not?

It might be good for us.

You... you're saying you
won't come on the tour?

Isn't that what you want?

You don't dare go

because you're
terrified of the sea!

You're pretending it's for me!

People shouldn't make scenes

if they're not prepared to win.

Win?

You're the one who always wins.

You were never going anyway.

You just want to get rid of me.

Vatsa.

You're just making this harder.

Don't make it harder.

I never believed
this could happen.

Never.

He wouldn't even come
to see us off.

He is naughty, isn't he?

Vaslav, my dear,

the whole business
is most puzzling.

I said, "Sergei,
why aren't you coming with us?"

You can tell me the truth."

He gave me the oddest look.

What on earth is it all about?

He's afraid of the sea.

That's what he says,

but how seldom
he says what he means.

There were no little
tiffs, were there?

What makes you think that?

Ah, the lido.

Those delectable young bodies,

and so available.

After all, we're all human...

Even Sergei.

[Steamer whistle blows]

Debarquez.

Did it come?

Si?

Did what come, Vaslav?

The Joseph score.

Sergei said it was
to be sent to you.

Nothing came.

It will probably
go directly to Buenos Aires.

Good morning, monsieur Nijinsky.

You never remember me, do you?

Forgive me.

Mademoiselle de Pulsky.

You-you're not traveling
with the rest of the company.

I indulged myself

and bought a first-class ticket.

Monsieur Diaghilev,
I understand,

is not with us?

No.

Nor madame Karsavina.

She's taking a later boat.

Ah, mademoiselle!

What a pleasant surprise.

Oh. Good evening, monsieur Bolm.

It's my little
Hungarian protege.

Mademoiselle de Pulsky,

let me introduce monsieur Baton,

our conductor for this tour,

madame Baton, and...

Good evening,
mademoiselle de Pulsky.

So everybody knows everyone.

They put me
at the captain's table.

I hope you'll rescue me
once in a while.

At any time of the night or day.

Oh, beautiful.

What a beautiful girl.

Made out of steel, dear.

She'll get anything
she wants in life.

I know what she wants.

Oh, Adolph, dear, do tell us.

What does she want?

I'm too much
of a gentleman to say that.

All I'll say is,

we shall see what we shall see.

How frustrating it must be

to have the ideas
forming in your head

and not have the music
to be able to start.

He promised to send it here.

Even if Strauss
hadn't finished it,

he promised to send
what he'd done.

How extraordinary.
Even for his own sake,

monsieur Diaghilev
would never dream

of letting you down.

I know what I'd do
if I were you.

You do?

You must have dozens
of ideas for ballets.

Monsieur Baton
must have many scores.

I'd pick one and work.

Then when I got back,

I'd march up to
monsieur Diaghilev and say,

"see what I've done?

And to hell with you
and your rest.

- Still no word?
- No.

Hmm. It is strange, isn't it?

But then, I'm sure
he has so much else

to think about.

He uses people.

Well, if you're a businessman

and you have to run a company

and make money,

I'd suppose you'd have to.

He used Fokine.

For years, he
treated him like a god.

Because his last ballets

weren't quite so successful,

he threw him out.

Vaslav, you mustn't think...

I have been with him
so many years.

I never even thought
of life without him.

I did everything
he told me to do.

When he said
he wasn't coming on the tour,

I couldn't believe it.

He's frightened of the sea.

Do you think it's that?

It could be.

Then why doesn't he
send a message?

I don't know.

But I do know one thing...

I'll never let him hurt you.

Vaslav.

The most extraordinary thing.

I just can't understand it.

I've just got a wireless message

from Astruc in London.
It's about Sergei.

It says that he's
going to St. Petersburg

to look for a dancer
to play Joseph.

Well, what can that mean?

Surely you're playing Joseph.

We haven't decided yet.

Why ever not, my dear?

Well, we talked about it.

He's meant to be 15.

I thought it best

if we used someone much younger.

How splendidly dedicated
you are to your art.

And it's going to be

the biggest role of the season.

That's not all.

There's something
far more peculiar.

"Unable to contact Fokine.

Do you know where to reach him?"

Mischa. They're looking
for Mischa.

Now, Vaslav, my dear,

now what on earth has happened?

You know that I'm
your dearest friend.

You know that you
can confide in me,

and I'll be as silent
as the tomb.

Have you and Sergei...

Now, Vaslav. Vaslav, my...

What a bitch I am.

[Knock on door]

[Sobbing]

Vaslav?

[Knock knock]

Vaslav, it's me. I...

[Sobbing]

What's happened?

My brother.

What are you saying?

He destroyed everything
in the kitchen.

Everything.

My brother...

Vaslav.

Everything that has happened

has happened for the best.

Don't you see
what a monster he is?

He's always been a monster!

You've just realized it now.

Vaslav, please.

Vaslav, please don't.

Vaslav, my darling.

I know what he made you do.

But I understand.

I understand everything.

Oh, Vaslav...

That's what they do,
those degenerates.

Oh, I love you! I love you! Oh!

[Church bells ring]

Poor Vaslav.

He's made many remarkable jumps

in his career,

but none more remarkable
than this one.

Vaslav, my angel!

I'm late again.

It's the story of my life.

How was your trip?

Mine was disaster.
Cattle barons.

By the way, darling,

I've got the Joseph score.

Sergei gave it to me.

He saw Mischa's lawyer.

They claim it was
in Mischa's contract

to do Joseph.

That's nonsense, of course.

Sergei says you mustn't worry.

Oh, yes.

He looked everywhere
for a young Joseph.

He could not find one.

So he wonders

if you will dance him yourself.

Oh, do excuse me.

Whenever Vaslav and I
are reunited,

I chatter like a magpie.

Vaslav, aren't you
going to introduce us?

Madame Karsavina, my wife.

I know you only married me

because you thought
you'd lost him.

I know that.

But it doesn't matter to me.

He can still work with you,

still be your friend.

If that's what you want,

I'd never stand in your way.

I'd never do anything
you didn't want me to do.

I love you!

I'll make it all right.

I'll make everything all right.

I promise you.

I'll write a letter!

He'll understand.

He understands everything.

Vaslav, no. Not now.

Come, come.

You have to dance
tomorrow, remember?

You have a performance.

Watch out for the step.

Let's go to bed.

You just need to rest.

Sit down.

Why did you let it happen?

Tata, dear, don't scold.

I'll scold until I'm
blue in the face.

What is she anyway,

just some pathetic,
ignorant girl

or some sort of adventuress?

Oh, my dear.

An adventuress, I'm afraid.

And a very formidable one, too.

What could I do? I thought,

"a little flirtation
on the boat... why not?

At least it isn't a boy."

I never dreamed...
No one dreamed...

We never even knew
until this morning

when we got the invitation

for the wedding.

Oh... I'm all... Fluttery.

Where are my peppermints?

Oh, no!

Wouldn't you know?

This would happen

when I'm out of my peppermints.

[Thumping]

[Thumping continues]

Perhaps we can talk to her.

There is always an annulment.

Not if I know that young woman.

Se orita Karsavina, por favor.

But we can try.

Sergei must not find out.

When it's already
in all the newspapers?

Oh, God. Then we'll
send him a cable.

I've already done that.

I'm sorry. I feel as
responsible as anyone.

It never occurred to me
that this could happen.

"Dear Sergei Pavlovich,

"I warn this will
be shocking to you. Stop.

"It has shocked us all. Stop.

"In Buenos Aires
yesterday afternoon,

"Vaslav Nijinsky
married Romola de Pulsky.

Stop."

You stupid, stupid boy.

This is to advise you

that at the end
of the South American tour,

your connection
with the Ballets Russes

will be permanently terminated.

As with all such
official communications,

you will sign this

as business manager
to the company.

Surely, Sergei,
until we know more...

What more is there to know?

You think only the young

have the right to be ruthless?

Send the cablegram.

Sergei, be reasonable.

Apart from everything else,

what about the Joseph ballet?

I have Fokine's
telephone number in Vienna.

Fokine?

Yes.

He'll do it very well.

Besides,

it will get rid

of that ridiculous lawsuit.

Yes, but after what's
happened between you,

it may not be easy.

When I need a choreographer,

details are irrelevant.

But what will we do
for a leading male dancer?

I shall find one.

Or create one.

Send the cable.

Master, forgive me,

but you're not going
to let Vaslav leave us.

Well...

I've always maintained,
Vassilli,

that no one in the Ballets Russes
is indispensable.

So it's only logical to suppose

that no one in life
is indispensable either.

We'll find out.

Now pack my bags.

I'll be leaving
for Moscow this afternoon.

Perhaps... perhaps I'll find
a Joseph there.

Sergei Pavlovich...

Can't you just
this once listen to your heart?

If I were to listen to my heart

at this moment, Vassilli...

It might be in
danger of breaking.

What are you doing?

I'm going to him.

When I'm in
the same room with him...

Stop it!

You can't leave the tour!

Why not?

Because! Because
you're the star.

The whole tour depends on you.

Think of the company!
Think of the others!

They laugh at me!

Listen to me! Vaslav!

Vaslav, listen to me!
I'm your wife!

I was meant for you! I know it!

Romola! Romola! I'm sorry!

Are you all right?

I'm all right.

I didn't mean it.

I know it's not your fault.

I don't understand.

No. No. You understand.

You understand everything.

I see now.

They would never let me go.

I'll have to wait
until the tour's over.

Then if I explain,

everything will be all right.

My sweetness...

[Orchestra plays Petrouchka]

"I understand now
why those that are great"

"in the sight of men"

"are an abomination to God,"

"who has declared war
upon the rich and mighty"

"and invoked blessedness
upon the poor and humble."

"The world of the rich
and privileged..."

"that's the world of the devil."

Only with the simplicity
of the peasants

will we find God.

Tamara.

Dmitri.

Excuse me, please.

Dmitri.

How is he?

We don't know.
He never left his cabin.

I don't know how to do this.
Sergei asked me to tell him

he wants it understood that
under no circumstances,

now or in the future,

are Vaslav or his wife

ever to communicate
with him again.

As far as he's concerned,

That's ridiculous!

Vaslav has ceased to exist.

I've checked
with the purser, and...

This one, don't you think?

This one is best.

Vatsa.

Pardon. Pardon.

Gabriel. Where is he?
Where is the old monster?

[Steamer whistle blows]

What did you expect,

to send him alone
to South America

with only Gunzburg
to look after him?

Heaven alone knows how that girl

got her hooks into him.

It's your fault it happened.

So at least you can...

What? Do what?

Beg him to leave her,
to come back?

Better still, beg that woman

to return him to me?

Tears of a discarded lover

dripping down onto
the aubusson carpet?

Why not, if it's right for you
and for him?

My god, you can't love
someone for years

and just throw him away.

He needs you.

You should see him,

walking around like a ghost.

He needs you now.

What about my needs?

Is it my mission to play nursemaid
to a neurotic child

my whole life?

Perhaps in letting him go

I already knew
the time had come.

When they're 19,

they need what
an older man can give.

But when they grow older...

Sooner or later...

It's time to move on.

Ah... Leon.

Tata, dear, I'd like you to meet

Leon Myassin from Moscow.

He'll be dancing Joseph
opposite you next season

in Paris.

Vaslav...

I'll go to him.

I'll tell him
it was all a mistake.

I'll go away.

That's what you want, isn't it?

We'll have to wake up very
early on the farm.

Oh, darling, can't you see?

The farm is only a dream.
It isn't real.

It's just something
in your mind because you're...

I thought I was what you needed.

That was just something
in my mind, too,

because I wanted it
so much to be true.

It will be hard work at first,

but we'll get used to it.

Vaslav, listen to me.

Before me,
it was all right, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

I'll go to him.

I'll make him take you back.

Then you will be well again.

You're so good and kind.

I think you understand
everything.

Madame Karsavina is
a very persistent woman.

She insists that I see you.

She claims that it
is a matter of, uh...

Life or death.

I think it is.

I see no reason
for you to be standing,

madame Nijinsky.

I prefer to stand.

Ah, well, in that case...

You hate me, don't you?

Come.

Come, my dear.

To hate someone...

It is at least necessary

to take that person seriously.

You're not making it
any easier for me.

Oh, dear.

Is that what I'm supposed to do?

I've come to ask you
to take him back.

A menage a trois?

I will go away.

I'll never see him again.

Well.

[Sobbing]

He doesn't want me.

He never wanted me.

It was only because
the baron read him a cablegram

saying you were
looking for a younger dancer.

He thought you'd deserted him.

Because I love him,
I thought, this is my chance.

I can save him.

I can make him like other men.

You see, I didn't understand.

So now you're ready
to give him up.

I'm so frightened for him.

Sometimes I think he...

Sometimes he acts so strangely.

But it's me.

I know it.

I tried to make him
what he can't be.

Please take him back.

Please.

He's helpless without you.

What if I don't want him back?

Love isn't eternal, you know.

It has its own time.

If I'd loved Vaslav enough,

I'd never have sent him
on that tour alone.

And if he'd still been someone
I could love,

he'd never have allowed the baron's
spiteful remarks

to throw him into your arms.

You blame yourself,

but it wasn't you, my dear.

It was time.

And time,
on occasions, can be wise.

Did madame Karsavina tell you

I have a new protege?

A young man from Moscow.

I think he'll be
a very good dancer.

He's no Vaslav, of course.

No one could ever be vaslav.

You could ask me
to take Vaslav back as a dancer.

But can you honestly
envisage that?

The division
of loyalties, the factions,

the collapse of discipline,

the laughter behind my back?

No.

For the sake of the company...

And the company must
always come first with me.

You say you're afraid

something terrible
may happen to him.

I assume you mean some form
of mental breakdown.

Yes.

Yes, well...

I think your fears
are justified.

It's tragic, of course.

But perhaps inevitable.

The other side of genius.

I have a suspicion...

that you are perhaps
the best thing

that could possibly
ever happen to him...

If you love him enough.

- Do you think I'm a monster?
- Yes, I do.

I'm glad that I came.

I see now what a coward I was.

Whatever happens...

I will take care of him.

Should you need
my help at any time...

No.

I am not afraid of you.

I love you now.

I loved you always.

I am yours...

And I am my own.

You have forgotten
what God is...

But I have found him.

I love everybody.

I live everywhere.

I am the flesh.

I am the feeling.

You are dead

because your aims are death.

I am the spirit.

I am love.

I am Nijinsky of God.

I love him.

And God loves me.

I am a clown of God.

[Petrouchka plays]

Subtitles: mitbrille
Karagarga@2016