All language subtitles for A.Gentleman.in.Moscow.S01E03.The.Last.Rostov.2160p.PMTP.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.DoVi.H.265-NTb_ENG_Subtitles01

To an entirely unanticipated
and truly wonderful friendship.

She's an actress.

Both Lenin and Trotsky

have their favorite
film directors.

I'm good friends
with all of them

and could arrange introductions.

Pleasure is mine, Miss Urbanova.

Close the door on your way out.

Together, we can build

- a new Russia.
- Mishka.

- You know him?
- Yes.

I am truly sorry
I came between you and Helena.

We can move forward

rather than back.

War and Peace,
Tolstoy's finest work.

You have read it?

Consider it a Christmas present.

Goodbye, Alexander Ilyich.

Will you be all right
without me?

Oh, my dear Nina,

there's really no need

for you to concern yourself

with an old fuddy-duddy like me.

All the same. I shall.

♪ slow, dramatic music ♪

Progress, they say.

Well, the coffee's ready.

Might as well come along.

♪ lush orchestral music ♪

Well, thank you.

I'm sorry, I don't think we've
ever been properly introduced.

Abram. I'm the caretaker
of this place.

Well, I'm delighted
to make your acquaintance.

- My name is Alexander Ily...
- Oh...

I know who you are.

Is that cannon fire?

They're-they're clearing away
the old buildings.

The bees do their best
to ignore it.

Here. The fruit of their labor.

Mmm. Oh, that's delicious.

Just a hint of lilac.

- From Alexander Gardens.
- Oh.

You know, in a week or so,

the honey will taste
of cherries.

The honey on our estate
in Nizhny,

it tasted like apples,
all the way through spring.

Where the apple blossoms
fall like snow.

- Yes.
- I know it well.

The death of Lenin

plunged the country
into a power struggle

between Trotsky
and General Secretary Stalin.

Life inside the Metropol
remained largely the same.

Good morning.

Good morning.
And you.

Ah, beautiful, Marina.

The Count settled
into comfortable routine.

Days passed, seasons turned.

Nina!

Oh.

How was school this year?

Did you misbehave yourself?

Mm?

The capitalist system
is at the root of imperialism.

Yes, but the individual
has a role to play, too.

I mean, do you think,
without ambition

and a particularly strained
relationship

with his mother...

...Napoleon would have
conquered Europe?

If not him,

it would've been someone else.

When they exhaust resources
at home,

nations develop expansionist
policies and pursue wars

that only serve
the ruling class.

Secretary Stalin tells us this.

Your move, I believe.

I don't remember my position
being quite so desperate.

Anna.

- Just over here, over here.
- Anna.

- Give us a smile.
- Give us a smile.

Look this way, Anna.

Lovely.

And turn to the right.

- Beautiful.
- Comrade Urbanova.

Anna, how was it
working with Golubev?

Comrade Urbanova.

- Excuse me, young man.
- How can I help you today?

I just wondered
if the room was ready.

Yes, certainly.

- Anna.
- Lovely, lovely, thank you.

Oh, one more, Anna.
Thank you,

- gentlemen.
- Anna, just one more...

In the dozen or so
times that Anna had returned

to the hotel
since their night together...

...not a single word
had been exchanged.

Make your move.

♪ contemplative music ♪

May I introduce
Sergey Ivanovich Semenov?

He's writing a piece on you.

He wants to hear
all about your new film.

It's lovely to meet you.

Pleasure.

Audrius. Bottle of Bollinger.

The 1917, if you'd be so kind.

Again?

Never fear failure,
rather fear never trying.

But you have tried.

Many, many times before.

Yes, all right.

Give her this note with the
champagne, all right? Thank you.

Comrade Urbanova.

Mishka.

I wasn't expecting you
for another week.

What is it?

We should go upstairs.

The Party
still monitors the activities

of exiles abroad.

I was made aware yesterday
that the Countess died.

I am truly sorry.

How did it happen?

It was reported that
she'd been in ill health

for a number of years.

I don't know the cause exactly.

She was 87 years old.

I will count myself lucky
to live so long.

And her funeral was befitting
of a woman of her standing?

I understand there's
a magnificent Orthodox church

in London.

A service was held at the
crematorium in Golders Green.

A crematorium?

And her-her ashes
are to stay in exile?

She deserves better.

I should hold some sort
of church service for her.

She still has friends in Moscow.

We do not engage in ceremonious
superstition anymore.

Oh. God is in exile, too.

I'm the last of the Rostovs.

After me...

...there is no one else.

♪ somber music ♪

♪ confident, dramatic music ♪

The wine must be
Châteauneuf-du-Pape.

We'll serve caviar
to taste on arrival.

Vichyssoise. Steamed fish.

To go along with the main event,
whole spring lamb.

And what's the occasion?

You want all this to be served

at the same time,
after the caviar?

Yes, of course.

It wouldn't be a feast

if it was served piecemeal.

A gathering in remembrance
of my late grandmama,

the Countess Rostova.

H-How many guests?

Twenty.

When my husband died, we weren't
allowed to hold a service.

Be careful.
This will be frowned upon.

Oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea.

Why would you?

Ah, yes.

Well, it's been years
since it was used.

Stand up straight.
You're slouching.

I feel we could restore it

to something akin
to its former glory.

What do you say, gentlemen?

Stop sucking it in.

An outrageous slander.

"Sucking it in,"
she said, Yasha.

Maybe there is a reason
this fine china

hasn't been used
for the best part of a decade.

It's against Party rules.

Even so,

don't you miss serving people
who have the refinement

to appreciate our efforts?

If you could send
the measurements

to Sidorov on Nikolskaya.

Gregor has made suits
for me before.

Shouldn't be difficult for him
to make one in the style

of my father's suit.

We have to be
very careful not to

draw too much attention.

Don't worry.

I'll make sure everyone
is on their best behavior.

Ready to order, sir?

I'll have the Latvian stew.

And would you like
a glass of wine with your stew?

Might I suggest the Rioja?

Rioja?

I'm terribly sorry.
Please, I'll, uh... Ignore me.

I believe you wanted the Rioja.

No, no, no. You can't.
You simply can't

have the Rioja.

What you want
is a bottle of Mukuzani.

The Georgians practically
grow their grapes

in the hopes that, one day,
they'll accompany such a stew.

We better have
one of those, then.

Of course.

♪ slow, contemplative music ♪

Good heavens, child!
What do you think you're doing?

Stop that at once!

Manager Halecki. Mr. Halecki,
have you seen this barbarism?

Ah, yeah.

We were informed late last night

there would be some...
adjustments.

But they can't.

We have our instructions.

There's a gentleman
in the piazza asking for you.

So, you finally conquered

volume two.

- Did you enjoy it?
- Some of it.

The war rather than the peace?

Here you are, comrade.

They mock
General Secretary Stalin.

They're Trotsky's disciples.

Educated, privileged.

Two of them
are the children of doctors.

Another has a father
who is a physicist.

They think
they're entitled to power.

They're gaining a foothold,
and the Party is dividing.

Was there a particular reason
you wanted to see me?

What do you know
of my background?

Very little.

Our conversations have tended
to focus on mine.

Oh.

Well, you were a soldier once,
an infantryman.

You rose to the rank of colonel
by the war's end.

How would you know?

Well, it's the business
of gentlemen to distinguish

between men of rank.

And what else?

Only an Eastern Georgian
would have his lunch

with a bottle of Rkatsiteli.

Because he is a hayseed?

No. Because he misses home.

In my family,

we would share a bottle
of Châteauneuf-du-Pape

to mark special occasions.

I didn't have
a formal education.

My parents never had books,
so I never had books.

My daughter is eight.

She loves to read.

We watch them constantly,

but it's not enough
to know their next move.

I need to understand
the privileged classes.

And how do you propose
that I help?

From time to time,
you and I will meet and talk.

You will teach me
what I want to know.

Very well.

You will never share the
contents of our conversations.

I still do not know your name.

Osip Glebnikov.

♪ tense, dramatic music ♪

I was sorry
to hear of your grandmother.

Thank you, Nina.

Are you familiar with the story
of the moths of Manchester?

No.

For thousands of years,

the peppered moth had
white wings with black speckles.

It was perfectly
camouflaged against

the bark of the
silver birch trees.

Naturally,
there were aberrations,

moths with pitch-black wings.

They were quickly
snapped off the trees

by birds before they had
a chance to mate.

In the late 19th century,

when Manchester became
crowded with factories,

soot covered
all the buildings and trees,

and the white-winged moth found
itself exposed and picked off,

while the black-winged moths
thrived.

In less than a century,
the black-winged moth,

which had made up ten percent
of the moth population,

now made up over 90%,

and the white-winged moth,
well...

found itself in the minority.

So?

It used to take generations

for a way of life to fade.

Under current circumstances,

we must acknowledge
that the process

can occur
in the blink of an eye.

Like Darwin says,

"Adapt or die."

I was surprised

to receive an invitation.

It'll just be a simple gathering

marking the passing
of my grandmother.

There's nothing simple about it.

A service for the Countess will
not be tolerated by the Party.

There have been other
society events in Moscow

in recent times.

I understand that,
only six months ago,

Vladimir and Yelena Trubetskov

were married in the Church
of the Great Ascension.

Yes, and there was
more secret police

in congregation than attendants.

Vladimir is now missing,

and Yelena,
she lives alone in fear.

You'll be putting
your guests in danger.

Is this the brave new world
that you dreamt of?

Rome wasn't built in a day.

No, but it was
burned down in one.

I know the love you had

for your grandmother, but
this isn't the way to show it.

People like you are--

People like... people like me?

A gathering of the old elite

will be seen
as an act of defiance.

Things have changed, Alexander.

You have to understand that.
It's dangerous.

I won't be offended if you
feel like you can't attend.

Listen to what I have said.

I'd better go.

All right.

Thank you for the books.

Good evening.

Certainly. I shall have that

sent up to your suite
right away,

Miss Urbanova.

Audrius, I couldn't help

but notice that you
and the boys are absolutely

rushed off your feet down here.

Um...

♪ lighthearted music ♪

Good evening. I believe
you ordered room service.

Now hold on a minute.

Ah, Miss Urbanova.

May I set it here, where you
might make yourself comfortable?

What in seven blazes
do you think you're doing?

Olga, I think
you're finished for today.

He can't... You can't really...

I give up. I really do.

Madam.

Are you not pouring
yourself one?

That is why you brought
two glasses?

Well, in hope
rather than presumption.

I must confess that,
after our...

previous liaison

and your subsequent disregard,

that I was concerned
that I may have caused

some... offense.

- Why are you smirking?
- I'm not.

Oh, certainly you are.

When a man is dismissed
from a woman's bed,

it is incomprehensible to him
that she might simply

have had her enjoyment
and now wishes to sleep.

- Her enjoyment?
- And yet, when the shoe

is on the other foot...

Well, that's not true
of all men.

I imagine I'm rather
more experienced in the matter.

You make a fair point.

So, I was merely
a passing fancy?

No, there was nothing mere
about it, but...

yes, if you like.

I did like. I do.

And I suppose there's
an added attraction

to a man who's unable
to chase me down the street

when I choose to leave.

So why has it taken us
so long to speak again?

- I was waiting for you.
- Waiting for me?

- But I-I sent you champagne...
- You did.

And I enjoyed drinking it.

You didn't send yourself.

You mean, all those nights
you stayed at the hotel, I...

I could just have
knocked at the door?

Depends.

Depends on what?

On whether or not
I was in the mood

for you to knock on my door.

Bring the champagne.

I was surprised
to read that your father

was a factory worker
from Saint Petersburg.

Mm. His hands always smelt
of machine oil,

no matter how long
he scrubbed them.

You told me he was a fisherman.

I thought it might
appeal to you,

as I thought the rise
of a factory worker's daughter

would appeal to the readership
of
Spectacles.

Neither story is true?

No.

So what did your father do?

My father was a famous matador.

We toured the great arenas
of Spain together.

One day, before the crowds
arrived, I, I stole his cape

and snuck into the bullring.

I wasn't quick enough.
The... the bull caught me

by the shoulder

with his horn.

I fell to the ground.

Just as the bull
was bearing down on me,

my father...

...threw himself in front of me
to save my life.

Costing him his?

He died in my arms.

You are like one of
the moths of Manchester.

I have no idea what that means.

Well, towards the end
of the 19th century--

I'm sorry, what are you doing?

I was about to explain to you
about the moths of Manchester?

No, please, Lord, no.

Oh.

Why were you upset?

In the bar, with your friend.

My grandmama passed away.

She brought me up
from the age of ten.

I'm sorry for you.

It's a privilege to grieve.

Means you loved someone
and someone loved you.

Where are your family?

Olga is my family.

Now, I've a lot to do tomorrow,

and you've absolutely
exhausted me.

Well, it had been four years.

Given our respective
circumstances,

I'd appreciate
your discretion in--

Oh, naturally. Of course.

Congratulations on
your moving picture.

I'm sure the General Secretary
will be a huge fan.

- Don't forget to close the--
- Close the door on the way out.

Yes, I-I remember.

♪ slow, contemplative music ♪

Until the next time?

Perhaps.

Good night.

Alexander.

I found the queen dead
this morning.

Well, there's still honey.

Hive must have turned on her.

It happens
when the colony's failing.

Unless it was hornets.

Maybe the hornets out there.

They tore up
the Imperial Gardens.

Flowers, trees.

I mean,
what is the sense in that?

They'll be back, Abram.

Your bees will be searching
somewhere new for their pollen.

I've had a working hive here
for the last 20 years.

It's over.

♪ somber choral music ♪

You've forgotten my lessons
in etiquette entirely.

I'm making a list of
all the prime numbers.

Just imagine identifying
a prime number so high

that no one has ever
discovered it before.

Well, yes,
that would be something.

I hope you can attend
the dinner I'm planning.

There is something I have to do
first, but I'll try.

You ready to order?

Good God, man.
Must you sneak up like that?

I apologize.

Are-are we ready to order?

Shouldn't you be working
in the piazza, Leplevsky?

I was deemed worthy
of a promotion.

Your order,
if you wouldn't mind.

I'll have the duck.
Same.

Of course.

And will you be requiring
any wine this evening?

Yes, a bottle of
the San Lorenzo Barolo, 1912.

Yes, now, is that the red
or the white you'll be having?

A Barolo is a red.

Then you'll be having the red.

Yes.

The Barolo is a red.

I-I-I... I do a-apologize
if I'm-I'm not being clear.

For your selection of wine
this evening,

there are only two options:

white and red.

A complaint was filed
with Comrade Teodorov,

the Commissar of Food,
claiming that

the existence of our wine list
runs counter

to the ideals of the Revolution.

Apparently, it is a monument
to the privilege of nobility.

They've removed all the labels.

This is preposterous.

Who would want to perpetrate
such cultural vandalism?

Who would make such a complaint?

Your waiter.
Comrade Leplevsky.

I can only presume
he has a friend.

A friend?

With influence.

Which makes him
someone to be wary of.

They won't stop
till they've destroyed

everything that came before.

Châteauneuf-du-Pape.

Yes.

♪ sentimental music ♪

Well, I can see that Sidorov
has lost none of his talents.

He closed his shop
two years ago.

Well, who made this?

You?

Yeah, just remember,

I've dozens of sheets and
pillowcases to mend every day,

the housekeeping, and
a boy to run around after.

Marina...

I'm incredibly grateful you
would go to such efforts for me.

Well, I don't expect
what you would pay Sidorov.

Well, you will have it,
all the same.

There.

How's that?

Is something wrong?

My father wore it better.

If you don't like it,

- I-I can...
- It's perfect, Marina.

Thank you.

You have excelled yourself.

Brava.

Vasily, what is the meaning
of all this?

Oh, we're holding a reception
for Miss Urbanova's film.

It's rumored that
General Secretary Stalin himself

will be attending.

Have any of my guests arrived?

Only one.

It's important
that General Secretary Stalin

be allowed to set
the topic of conversation.

Good evening.

Should he engage
in conversation,

be sure to emphasize
the superiority

of the Russian film industry
over Hollywood.

Don't worry, I know
how to stick to my lines.

Mishka.

I'm so glad you could come.

I'm here for you,
not your grandmother.

Well, I appreciate it.

Shall we?

Ready? One, two, three...

♪ slow, tense music ♪

Sasha, they would have been
nervous about coming

even before Stalin was coming
to the hotel.

They loved my grandmother.

They will want to pay
their respects.

More red?

Leave it, please.
Leave it.

I don't understand why
Andrey isn't taking care of us.

I was asked to attend.

By whom exactly?

Good evening.

Nina, good of you to join us.

Allow me to introduce you to
Mishka, an old friend of mine.

Well...

I see you are helping
redecorate the hotel.

I'm glad to be doing my part
for Mother Russia.

You're glad?

Your Excellency, uh...

Emile wanted me to inform you

that the rest of the food
has been ready for some time.

We are still awaiting
the arrival of our guests.

Much longer and it will spoil.

We both know
how combustible Emile can be...

Goddamn it! We will wait.

A-Apologies, Andrey.

Excuse me.

Give my apologies to Emile
and my sincere thanks.

Do you think this shawl
is too much, maybe?

It's fine.

On my cue, start playing.

The General Secretary's car
is on its way.

Everybody get ready.

Well, you never know.

Music, please, music.

♪ soft, lively music ♪

Here we go.

Sasha, you must understand
the risk they would be

putting themselves in
by coming tonight.

They'd be drawing attention
to themselves.

The Istomins are octogenarians.

What possible threat
could they pose?

Are they going to foment
a revolution over the starters?

Do you know
what the Party has done now?

They have removed the labels
from all the wine bottles.

It's madness.

It's only wine.

Only wine?

A bottle of wine...

it captures a moment in history.

Its flavor tells a story
of place, of time,

of the ground
beneath the winemaker's feet.

Whether the season was wet
or dry.

But now we have to accept
that none of that matters.

A wine is simply red or white.

Now it's
a monument to privilege.

- The absurdity of it all.
- It is.

It is what?

It's a monument to privilege.

Thank you! Thank you.

Thank you. That'll do.

Thank you.

Regretfully...

...Stalin is no longer
attending the reception.

And what of me?

Should I be done away with, too?

Should our whole past
be done away with

for the glory of the Revolution?

All of it must be burned
to the ground, and for what?

For the country to progress.

Progress?
How is any of it progress?

What have they done to you?

♪ slow, somber music ♪

I'm sorry for your grandmother,
Alexander.

Good night, Mishka.

Nina, please. I'm sorry.
Stay. S-Sit.

Right.

Everybody back to work.

Are you all right?

This is an embarrassment.

You should go.

I'm happy to stay.

No, please, Mishka,
just leave me.

Shall we clear away the food?

Shall we clear the food?

Shall we?

Let's get rid of it all.
All of it.

Everything.
Clear it all away!

Countess Osipova scrubs floors
at the sanatorium.

The Istomin sisters,

they live like wraiths
in a single room,

dreaming of the return
of the old order.

The rest of your guests
share similar fates.

You wanted to see
if any of them would come?

Be very careful, Alexander.

You are still a prisoner here.

♪ somber choral music ♪

Know when you are beaten.

Alexander.

You were right.

The bees.

They've come back.

Come and see.

Please.

Now taste that.

Here.

Apples.

They must have flown
from Nizhny Novgorod.

They must have heard you
talking about your home.

You see?

You said they'd find a way.

You said they'd come back.

It's a sign.

They want you to stay.

They want you
to look after them.

No.

You're their owner.

I'm old and tired.

You have so much more to give.

Don't waste it.

♪ slow, tender music ♪

♪ gentle piano music ♪

Audrius, a brandy,
if you wouldn't mind.

Thank you.

♪ slow, tender music ♪

Are you not scared
of being seen with me?

Well, it won't make
a difference now.

I think my career might be over.

Stalin didn't enjoy the film.

I suspect it went over his head,

which is hardly surprising,
given his diminutive stature.

A toast.

To the confederacy
of the humbled.

The confederacy of the humbled.

I trust you can still pick out
a bottle of Bollinger.

Audrius.

Absolutely, Count Rostov.

Please. Alexander.

Shall we?

♪ romantic string music ♪