Original subtitles

Life for you and your kind is over in Moscow.

You must never leave this hotel.

If you do, I'll be waiting.

Will they really shoot you if you go outside?

I have a passkey that opens every door in the hotel.

There are rooms behind rooms and doors behind doors.

This hotel is a dangerous place, especially for you.

Are you the author of this poem of 1913:

"Where Is Our Purpose Now?"

It was attributed to me.

Nikolai!

If I take it seriously...

...I could fall into a dark despair

I could find no way out from.

We must continue with a form of state capitalism

to ensure progress!

The pig must be fattened for the feast.

We've got to be realistic.

We can't switch to pure communism.

The New Economic Policy is needed...

There's nothing new about it.

The workers still toil,

but now the new landowners profit instead of the old ones.

For a period of transition, perhaps...

No, we have suffered under the yoke of tyranny too long.

We fought for revolution, not slow transition.

Together we can build a new Russia.

It is within our grasp...

...but we must be brave,

reach out and take it.

Mishka.

There can be no compromise.

You know him?

Yes.

We must build a world of equal opportunity for all.

We can't go on like this.

Children are going hungry. Families are freezing to death

in their homes.

Yes, there should be enough to go around,

but the rich are still taking everything.

It isn't right. No!

It isn't right.

Where's our humanity?

Where's our love for our fellow man?

♪ slow, dramatic music ♪

Mishka.

Alexander Ilyich.

Good to see you again.

I'd hoped it might be sooner.

Yes, I've been doing important work.

Remind me, under which yoke of tyranny did you suffer?

I seem to recall you enjoying

your stays with my family at Idlehour.

They burned it to the ground, by the way.

I know.

I was glad to hear

the Countess managed to escape.

I invited you into my home.

I clothed you, I fed you.

The clothes didn't fit.

You were my friend.

I treated you like a brother.

You were ashamed of me.

You gave me good reason to be.

Everything that happened was because of you.

♪ anxious, dramatic music ♪

♪ lush orchestral music ♪

♪ slow, contemplative music ♪

I don't recall ordering room service.

If you could give it a dust while you're there,

it'd be greatly appreciated.

Is nothing sacred anymore?

It's from your grandmother.

Oh, apparently not.

The traitors in exile

are still dreaming of a glorious return.

A restoration of the Romanov dynasty.

Mikhail Fyodorovich Mindich.

You know him?

Yeah, a passing acquaintance.

You lived together at university.

Despite your difference in politics and background,

I'd say he was your closest friend.

Then why ask?

Because there's truth to be found in the lies we tell.

We were close friends

until circumstances came between us.

What circumstances?

He wanted to erase the class to which I belong.

That may have been true once.

Mishka first came to my attention at your trial.

Apparently, he has influence within the Party.

I'd like your help...

...to understand him better.

I'm not sure what use I could be.

You've known him over a decade.

You must have some insight into his character.

♪ slow, dramatic music ♪

It can take time for people to understand how this works.

But they always do in the end.

But the Princess was on her way to the Tushins' ball.

Well, precisely. So she would've been perfectly

within the bounds of courtesy to excuse herself.

Instead, she insisted that she took the old lady

to visit her son, the blacksmith,

in the town of Kudrovo,

more than seven miles away.

And then?

The blacksmith's family gathered around the carriage,

and the old lady invited the Princess

into their humble home for tea.

The blacksmith winced.

The coachman gasped.

The blacksmith's son flushed with embarrassment.

Why?

Because she was a princess.

And going into a working man's house was beneath her.

Is this your story or mine?

Whether stories truly belong to anyone is questionable.

Princess Golitsyn gracefully accepted

the old crone's invitation,

even though it meant

missing the Tushins' ball altogether.

Did she marry the blacksmith's son?

Good God, certainly not.

She finished her glass of tea,

climbed back in the carriage

- and went home. - Oh.

But her behavior was befitting of a princess,

which is the object of this lesson.

I would've preferred it

if she married the blacksmith's son.

So, too, would he, I imagine.

Olga, please do something.

Uh, d-do those fine creatures belong to you?

They do.

Ah.

Here. Come, come, come. There you are.

I'm afraid they're quite ill-bred.

Oh, on the contrary, they appear to be perfectly bred.

What I meant to say is that they are ill-behaved.

Ah. Behavior is a matter of handling, not breeding.

And for that reason, the well-bred dogs

belong on the shortest of leashes.

Oh, I always think the best-bred dog

belongs in the surest of hands.

Yes, I'm sure you do.

She's an actress.

Ah.

I've seen her films.

They're not very good.

Hmm.

♪ pensive, dramatic music ♪

Hello?

♪ quiet, uplifting music ♪

Hmm.

Now, if you could unlock the door, Nina,

- then we could get started. - All right.

Ah, slow down, slow down!

Yes.

How did you and Mishka meet?

We were friends at university.

But not anymore.

Someone came between us.

A woman?

Did you have a duel?

Certainly not.

Were you both in love with her?

We both loved her, but...

not in the way you imagine.

The Princess could never marry the blacksmith's son.

It's getting late.

We'll be keeping our regular appointment tomorrow.

Naturellement.

Merci.

Good night.

♪ quiet, pensive music ♪

Thank you for mending them, Marina.

I'll pay, of course.

I'll fix these when I'm next in the sewing room.

I'm doing some housekeeping work for Manager Halecki.

Oh, you've had a promotion?

Well, very well deserved, I'm sure.

Yasha, you must be very proud of your mama.

Yasha, leave that.

Oh, that's all right. That's all right.

Come on.

The staff are having a New Year's Eve party.

You should come.

Well, that's very kind of you.

Thank you very much.

Thank you. Thank you.

Goodbye, little man.

Hey!

I heard that he's already dead.

I can assure you, Comrade Lenin

is in the rudest of health.

- The rudest. - So it's not syphilis?

I beg your pardon?

Well, he was in exile a long time,

and there's only so much you can do in Finland.

Take it from one who's had the pleasure.

Or the lack thereof.

I can assure you it was not syphilis.

But it is true he had a stroke?

That'll be how he caught it in the first place.

It's certainly not true.

He doesn't have anything. Nothing has happened.

And you'd be well minded to keep your voice down.

Thank you, Olga.

Glory to the Revolution.

Just make sure our room is in order,

if you'd be so kind.

I checked myself, this morning.

Can I assist, madam?

Um...

Your coats?

Oh, yes. Yes. Thank you.

Ooh.

And if the frog does croak?

Then it would either be Trotsky or Kamenev.

Both of whom recognize

the importance of film as a medium,

and both are great fans of yours.

And you know this.

They are regular visitors to the Ministry of Culture.

We speak often.

And what about the man of steel?

No, he's a thug.

No one's seriously talking about Stalin.

Trotsky and Kamenev do have their favored film directors.

I'm good friends with all of them,

and could, of course...

arrange introductions.

Everything in this new world comes at a cost.

I'd like to have dinner with you,

and drinks afterwards.

We'll have lunch.

With drinks.

Well, we've got to get through it somehow.

I look forward to it.

I'll be in touch.

Mmm.

Vodka.

Boy, more vodka here. Now.

Sorry, you wait like everyone else.

What?

I said, you wait like everyone else.

You say that again.

Where's Vasily?

Madam, would you be so kind?

All right.

Calm down, both of you.

No, I can manage.

On second thought... Yeah.

Ow!

You still don't know how to fight.

You don't know how not to.

What was the cause?

Bad manners.

That I can get behind.

With our compliments.

Oh, thank you.

Thanks, Audrius.

To your health.

It was dangerous of you to involve yourself.

You would've done the same for me.

How are you adjusting to your new surroundings?

Well, most of my friends are dead,

my house was seized and burned,

my grandmother's in exile. Other than that...

Yeah, well, it was the Tsar who ordered his Cossacks

to ride over innocent women and children.

Petrov is gone.

What threat was he?

All he wanted to do was play his violin.

Sasha, we used to talk late into the night

about how the world could be made better.

- We argued. - No, we agreed.

You once believed

all people should have the opportunity and freedom

to become whatever they wanted in life.

Everyone has dreams, Mishka.

Only children believe them after they wake up.

I know the love you have for Russia,

the love you have for its people. Your people.

We can look forward rather than back.

Don't you think we've both lost enough already, Sasha?

Ha!

- Excuse me. - Yeah, Vasily.

A message for you from Comrade Urbanova.

The owner of the two rather large dogs.

Thank you.

You were late for our appointment.

A rare opportunity has presented itself,

and I'm afraid we will have to delay until tomorrow.

We had a prior arrangement, and I need to talk to you.

Yeah, but we just agreed on tomorrow instead.

You suggested tomorrow. We agreed today.

I'll give you 20 rubles.

Fifty?

Miss Urbanova is inquiring as to why

you are hiding behind a plant pot.

Uh...

Nina, whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait.

Please.

Count Rostov?

Good evening.

I'm so pleased you could drag yourself away

from the flower arrangements.

The pleasure is mine, Miss Urbanova.

Oh, please.

Call me Anna.

Shall we?

Your four-legged friends will not be joining us?

They shan't.

But I see your two-legged one shall be.

Is this your daughter?

- Him? No. - No.

I don't know who this is.

Shall we go somewhere else?

The Hotel Britannia has a fantastic restaurant.

He's not allowed to leave the hotel

'cause he's a criminal...

- All right, Nina. - ...and a danger

- to the Russian people. - Nina, that's enough.

Thank you.

So you do know her? Hardly at all.

More than I would like.

Room 317.

Give me 20 minutes.

Nina?

Nina.

Yes?

Ah, um... I am expected.

Comrade Urbanova will be just a moment.

Ah. Hello, girls.

Get that, would you?

Ah, good evening.

Just there, please.

Ah. I've been in two restaurants

and a bar today and haven't had a bite to eat.

I'm absolutely starving.

Admiring the additions to the theatre?

"Admire" might not exactly be the word I would use.

Mm, apparently, Lenin's going to announce

the formation of the new Soviet state.

If he isn't already dead, of course.

Well, shall we see what we've got?

Oh. Thank you.

Mmm.

So...

...two restaurants and a bar?

Five journalists in three hours,

the same stories recounted each time

as if it were the first.

And then a meeting with a director

younger than most of my shoes.

Golubev imagines himself a genius,

but I pride myself on being

an impeccable judge of character.

Take you, for example.

Take me?

A man of certain means.

Well, not anymore.

But in the past you never wanted for anything.

Oh, I wanted for many things

I never had the opportunity to enjoy.

Not for lack of money.

And I'm sure there are

many things you did enjoy all too readily.

Go on.

You're from a family of some stature--

inherited rather than earned?

Well, it was earned at some point.

Mm.

But not by you.

You don't have the air of a great military leader.

Luckily, or else I would be dead by now.

Given who you are, you should be dead.

Instead you're imprisoned at the Metropol Hotel.

Why?

Why are they keeping you here?

My turn.

The way you deboned that fish,

I would say you are the daughter of a fisherman.

I was raised in a village on the Black Sea.

You had no siblings.

That I know of.

So you lived in this village, dreaming of escape.

That's what drew you to the stage,

a place where you could forget about your life.

I was at my happiest there.

I'd go to the beach and help my father mend nets.

He died when you were very young.

That's why you wanted to escape.

Back to you.

Am I right?

Back to you.

Your wife left Russia after the Revolution

and took the children.

I have neither wife nor child.

Lack of opportunity or desire?

There was no shortage in either department, I can assure you.

And you?

Children? No.

No, it would've been an impossible burden.

Why?

Why did they let you live?

Why did you want to run away from home?

I've done enough talking for today.

- Forget about the shoes. - No. What about your sheets?

Oh, for goodness' sake.

Oh.

Mm.

Have you always lived in Moscow?

In the winters.

Summers were spent in the region of Nizhny Novgorod,

at Idlehour, our family estate.

Oh, I take it you ate your fair share of apples.

Mm. We were surrounded by forests full of them.

According to local folklore, there is a tree

deep within the forest with fruit as black as coal.

And if you can find this tree and eat of its fruit,

you can start your life anew.

So, would you?

Would I what?

Would you take the bite?

How could I possibly relinquish the memory of this?

Hmm.

Or of all the princesses and duchesses

who have come before me?

Oh. Some, not all.

I'm surprised you countenanced sleeping with a lowly actress.

Well, as everyone keeps telling me, times have changed.

What exactly do you mean by that?

Very little.

Oh, because I would be beneath a man like you?

Well, I-I wouldn't say that was necessarily true.

Necessarily true?

If you wouldn't mind, close the door on your way out.

Oh.

Of course.

♪ slow, intriguing music ♪

♪ gentle, wistful music ♪

I believe I owe you something of an apology.

We had a prior arrangement, and I should've honored it.

You should've.

I-I neglected our friendship. I was in the wrong.

You were. I'm ready for it now.

Ready for what?

Your apology.

- But I-- - You said you owe me an apology.

I'm sorry, Nina.

Apology accepted.

- Shall we get some breakfast? - I'm staying here.

When we return to Moscow in the new year,

Papa says I shall be starting school.

Apparently, I'm in danger of going off the rails.

Mm, the most interesting people in life are rarely on them.

If I stay here, you could teach me.

Yes, but lessons in the conduct of princesses are

of little use now.

An education would give you a true sense of the world.

But I like it here. It's fun.

Yes, but it's not just about where you are.

It's about the people you meet.

And at school you would make

the best friends of your life.

Like you and Mishka?

Indeed.

♪ slow, dramatic music ♪

Please, do come in.

I'd like to talk to you about an incident

that occurred several days ago.

Yes.War and Peace, Tolstoy's finest work--

in actual fact, anyone's finest work.

- Uh, you have read it? - I know the story.

You got into an altercation

with one of our factory administrators.

I had no idea who it was,

nor would it have made any difference.

Have you had time to reflect on our previous conversation?

Why are you so interested in Mishka?

Because he risked his standing in the Party

to save your life.

There is nothing you can learn

about Mikhail Fyodorovich Mindich from me

that you could not glean

by simply meeting the man himself.

He is loyal to a fault.

He is the very best that humanity has to offer.

Then why did you deem him unworthy of your sister?

Because I wrongly believed that nobility is a birthright.

Because a Bolshevik could never be a gentleman?

I'm certain that's not true of all of them.

And what about me?

Do you believe I'm a gentleman?

I don't know you.

Well, let's just say I'm charged

with keeping track of certain men of interest.

♪ slow, plaintive music ♪

Easily done when they're under house arrest.

It's easier still when you place them in the ground.

We'll speak again, I've no doubt.

Neither do I.

Wait.

Before you go...

Consider it a Christmas present.

The celebration of Christmas is outlawed.

Uh...

Both Lenin and Trotsky are

huge fans of Golubev.

I can be sure to mention you next time he visits us.

Would you like to come to my room?

Would-would I...

With you?

I understand I'm not particularly of your persuasion,

- but... - Is it so obvious?

To me.

But rumors of an affair with a leading lady of cinema

would distract most people from the truth.

One good turn deserves another, after all.

Ah.

Yes, uh, my usual table, thank you.

Of course.

Your Countship.

Happy New Year.

All the joys of the season to you, sir.

Ah.

I'm dining with Father later,

so I've only ordered myself an hors d'oeuvre.

The hors d'oeuvre?

Oui.

Would you like to peruse the menu?

No, thank you, my good man.

Just a glass of champagne and a spoon.

Of course.

Will you be all right without me?

There's really no need for you to concern yourself

with an old fuddy-duddy like me.

All the same. I shall.

- How is that hors d'oeuvre? - Splendid.

I understand you might leaving us.

Such a pity.

Thank you.

To an entirely unanticipated and truly wonderful friendship.

And this...

...this is a little something

that my sister made very good use of

when she was your age.

You have always known me best. I shall treasure them.

It's getting late.

Come on.

I don't want you to keep your father waiting.

And you should go to the party.

It would be the noble thing to do.

From Mademoiselle.

Nina, this is too much.

You must promise not to open it until the stroke of midnight.

You have my word.

Goodbye, Alexander Ilyich.

Cheers. Happy New Year!

Good evening.

Sasha! Come.

Mishka.

Ah. Thank you.

Ah.

Good evening.

I thought you might like some brandy.

Please, join us.

It's a wonderful choice, Your Excellency.

Uh, are there any glasses, Mishka?

Champagne region.

Obviously.

Ugni blanc grapes, double oaked.

And the turn of the century.

I would say 1906.

Oh, very close. 1908.

But still...

It is to be drunk with friends.

Cheers.

Oh, who's this?

This is my son, Ilya, three months old.

Goodness.

I often wonder if she'd still be alive

if I hadn't come between you two.

Maybe I would've become a nobleman.

We could marry and both now be dead.

I am truly sorry I came between you and Helena.

I know what you did for me, Mishka, with the poem.

I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you.

You saved my life.

I should stand and go whilst I'm still able to.

Will you visit me again, Mishka?

If you'd like me to.

♪ gentle, intriguing music ♪

♪ soaring, wistful music ♪