Original subtitles

It's everywhere - in a fire...

and in the dark, so close and sudden,

on a Hungarian hussar's horse

or with a Tyrolean shooter's gun.

LARISA REISNER 1895-1926 REVOLUTIONARY, POET, JOURNALIST

By Nikolay. Gumilev.

-You know what it's about? -No idea.

About death.

They say God gives every man a life as long

as would be the thread wrapped around his heart.

I heard there is no God.

I told you you're greedy.

Larisa, I'm not interested in your poetry right now.

Kappel has taken Simbirsk and will take Kazan soon.

He sweeps our troops like skittles.

Have you killed with it?

I've told you a hundred times, my revolutionary struggle is different.

Yes, you are a manifesto yourself.

Your clothes, gestures... your manner of speaking.

And even your eyes, you do know how great they look on your tanned face.

But this is not a rally.

-This is war. -So what?

Under fire, people don't think of manifestos.

You appeal to the mind, but instincts are stronger.

What can be scarier and stronger than the feeling of impending death?

Where darkness of unruly power

is gurgling, grumbling and screaming,

the darkness of an unrestrained power,

the Archangel's wing is hovering over.

Innumerable roads make way to Rome that lies in ruins.

But if the February Rome falls,

and howls with a crowd's shout,

the Angel, show benevolence.

The Demon, show them all no mercy.

Leon!

Leon, we are here.

-Dear, did you forget to take your pills? -I'm alright. Let's go.

MEXICO. MAY 1940

The heat is stifling! I can't get used to it.

-Good afternoon, Sylvia! -Hello, Leon.

Yes, a very... peculiar tradition.

It is an ancient Mexican custom.

They believe that this way they honor the dead.

Frank!

My fiancé Frank Jacson. I told you about him.

Yes, yes. Quite a persistent young man.

-Ladies. -Frank.

Mister Trotsky.

FRANK JACSON 1913-1978 CANADIAN JOURNALIST

Tell me, Jacson... What didn't you grasp from our talk on the phone?

I made it clear: no interviews.

Yes, the answer was decisive,

but I think I can change your mind!

Change my mind? Even my wife doesn't always manage that.

I would like to thank you, Mr. Trotsky.

Your book saved my life in Spain.

As you see, this splinter was supposed to be mine.

Why did you bring this book? You are a Stalinist.

Did you imagine I wouldn't do the research?

I do respect Comrade Stalin being a remarkable statesman,

-but it doesn't mean... -Your Stalin is a mediocrity.

A remarkable nullity.

Yes, I don't just respect Comrade Stalin.

I think the world of him!

He is a great man, a communist visionary,

and you in your pathetic article sully his good name!

You call him bloodthirsty for fighting enemies of the revolution,

while you sent millions to death,

not your ideological opponents, but people who don't know politics at all.

I did condemn many to death, both enemies and my soldiers.

But there is one detail distinguishing me from Koba.

Yes? What detail?

He doesn't care for the idea.

He just nurtures his weaknesses, hiding behind ideology.

Paranoia, ambition, greed.

With power, he stayed the same as before.

While I had to stop being myself.

To disappear. In-ten-ti-o-na-lly.

I did it.

For the sake of the great idea.

THE RUSSIAN SFSR, 1918 THE BOLSHEVIK-CONTROLLED TERRITORY

...THE COUNCIL OF PEOPLE'S COMMISSARS CHAIRMAN V. LENIN.

Come in.

...THE ORDER TO RETIRE... IS A BLATANT DISREGARD OF...

-Is that all? -The troops retired to Sviyazhsk,

and the reports say they are in a bad state.

The state of the troops is my concern. Not yours.

-You can go, Sermuks. -Yes, sir.

I remember 1918 very well.

We suffered defeat after defeat.

The usual corrective actions did not help.

The troops were not retiring but fleeing.

Fellows! Come here! Listen to me! Come closer!

Why should we, Russian people,

go under fire against other Russians?

They say the days of these Soviets are numbered.

Yes, let the Bolsheviks themselves fight Kappel!

-Not us! -We'll look at it!

And if they don't give us a train, we'll take it!

-We'll take it! -Take that!

-Let's go home! -Yes!

Soldiers!

Fighters of the Red Army!

Less than a year ago all of us,

hand in hand,

threw off the yoke of tyranny,

class inequality

and exploitation of the common man.

But there are still those who struggle

to make us slaves again.

They are over there. On that side of the front.

Landlords, manufacturers.

The White Army.

They do not like the freedom

that the Bolsheviks gave to workers and peasants.

To you!

To those, who just yesterday

worked three shifts for a pittance,

and today rise in arms and tell them, "No!"

We will not give up our freedom!

No!

We will not turn into your slaves again!

I know each of you

is ready to serve the cause of the revolution.

Ready to lay down his life for the sake of it.

Your hand, brother.

Come on, go ahead.

Here!

Between him and me there is no difference.

There is nothing that can belong to me and cannot belong to him.

Nothing!

Take it. Take it. Take it.

-Take it. -A great gift.

Since when did you stop using a pocket watch?

This is not for me.

Let me help.

The world we are building,

in this world, all possessions will be everyone's.

-Hooray! -Hooray!

But! For our victory,

we need our enemy to fear us!

To not even think of a comeback!

And how can he not think of it

when we give up one town after another?

If our soldiers of revolution

are seized by panic and fear?

Yesterday the soldiers of the Second Petrograd Regiment

deserted from their positions and fled away.

Where are its commander and commissar?

Regimental commander Gneushev.

Regimental commissar Panteleev.

Draw out every tenth soldier from the rank!

Tenth.

Tenth.

Mister Trotsky.

Those are workers. Mobilized from a print shop.

They only saw rifles a week ago.

Tenth.

Tenth.

Don't worry.

Many contemporaries will not understand you.

They will judge you. Even call you Judas.

But the future will vindicate you. And raise you.

Decimation.

Tenth.

Tenth.

Now join the rank.

Comrade commissar, you join the rank too.

For dishonorable treason against Soviet Russia

the revolutionary tribunal sentences the deserters

-of the second Petrograd Regiment... -Aim!

...their commander Gneushev and their commissar Panteleev

to the capital punishment.

By shooting!

Enforce the sentence.

You might consider my actions too cruel,

but I did not just seek discipline,

I sought the greatest expression of love.

Yes, yes! You heard right, love. The enemy was a death-bringing power.

While I was a power that could punish,

but also could pardon.

So you wanted to be a second God to your soldiers?

Second? No, Jacson, think larger!

I had to replace him. God is a convention.

Nobody has seen him.

And I stood next to those people on the same ground.

I was easier to believe in. And they did.

And what if they turned bayonets against you?

Well, yes, there was such a possibility.

However, the soldiers did otherwise. They killed our enemy.

-I don't understand. -I didn't either.

Until I met the man who explained this to me.

ODESSA. MAY 1898.

Bastards.

We want Trotsky!

Trotsky! Trotsky! Trotsky!

Trotsky! Trotsky!

Silence!

Trotsky!

Silence, everyone!

Trotsky! Trotsky!

Demidov! Fetch Nikolai! I said fetch Trotsky!

Silence! Silence, everyone!

Trotsky! Trotsky! Trotsky!

Like mad dogs on the loose.

And coordinated like clockwork!

Calm down, Demidov. Calm down.

-So who is the troublemaker? -The kike from the 17th, Bronstein.

-Political? -Yes, sir.

NIKOLAI TROTSKY - CHIEF GUARD OF THE PRISON IN ODESSA IN 1898

Trotsky! Trotsky! Trotsky!

Open it.

What's with the noise?

We require the practice of beating prisoners to stop.

We require the provision of urgent care

to our comrade Sivoronov. We require you to punish the offenders.

-Besides, you... -A Jew?

In the context of our demands, this is irrelevant.

You must play chess.

In the context of our demands...

Do me a favor, have a game with me.

I am surrounded by mediocrity.

No one to practice logical thinking with. You won't believe.

The right one.

Have a seat.

You, Bronstein, are a phenomenon.

Truly, my friend. A phenomenon.

After 27 years in Russian prisons

I don't remember once that a Jewish snotnose

would set seasoned Russian thieves to an uprising.

Do you know what atrocities your Sivoronov committed?

I, Mr. Trotsky,

do not care what he got arrested for.

Whatever it is. He is a human being.

He has rights. And you oppress him.

And all the oppressed strive for liberty and justice.

Indeed,

you Jews and revolutionaries do not know the Russian people,

but you keep trying to save them and free them from someone.

The Russian people cannot be freed.

Or its soul will unleash such darkness

that will devour the world, but first - the liberators.

The Russians can only be controlled. For their own good.

Even if it's true, why beat him?

Why beat a man who is already caught and is waiting for the lawful punishment?

How else do you control people?

How? By personal example.

Leading them to the ideals of justice...

Are you feeble-minded?

Well, if you, with your attitude,

happen to live five more years, you will see

that controlling people is only possible

with fear.

Fear is the foundation of any order.

Beating one guiltless man in front of others is better

than beating everyone who loses fear and causes chaos.

Don't you think this is inhumane?

Of course!

I am girded with power.

You cannot decide people's fates and still be a human to them.

You are young and naive to think

that the world is willing to follow you out of sympathy with your Utopian dreams.

But two years later your naivety will fade

and the lust for power will stay.

That I can see in your eyes, Bronstein.

Your words are pretty, Mr. Trotsky,

but disproved by everything that is going on.

And you, due to your chauvinistic bigotry,

cannot notice that.

So you beat Sivoronov to scare the others, so what?

You achieved the opposite. People have united

and they demand justice.

-Well, they don't anymore. Listen. -They will. Rest assured.

Do not be surprised when people's wrath sweeps you away

and dumps you to where you belong. To the waste pit of history.

That's a given.

Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's.

And we, the foul dogs,

can only howl and beg for a bone.

This is life.

In the 21st century,

in the roar of a jubilant crowd,

a hayseed, a mope with a utility knife in his hand,

will go to the splendid face of the Sistine Madonna

and shred this face for the sake of equality and brotherhood.

-Do you see it like that? -No.

It's you who sees the 21st century like that.

This is your gendarme thinking that can only contort the best,

put everyone in overalls.

Breathing on a signal, living under orders,

that is how you see it.

The words about the 21st century are not mine.

That was Dostoevsky. Do you put him in a waste pit too?

Well, Mr. Bronstein.

I was wrong about you.

I thought there was something real to you, but no.

You're all rhetoric and peacockery.

Checkmate.

Put him into the chamber.

I am no one,

and when I melted

in the sky-colored square of light,

I died without any sentence

and rose a prisoner again.

And day like night, and night forever.

But faith in humanness is here, the only thing that keeps me sane.

Controlling people is only possible

with fear.

Trotsky! Trotsky! Trotsky!

...and rose a prisoner again.

And day like night, and night forever.

But faith in humanness is here, the only thing that keeps me sane.

Dad!

Dad!

Don't leave me!

-Leiba. -Don't leave!

-Leiba. -Dad!

Leiba.

Father. Is that you?

It's me, who else.

So, Bronstein? Have you learned the lesson?

I have.

I swear, I will get out of here

and destroy your filthy world.

That's not going to happen. This filthy world is inside you.

Remember that, Leiba.

You are hearing that from me, Nikolai Trotsky,

who can crush you right now.

THE IRKUTSK GOVERNORATE, 1902

A PLACE OF EXILE FOR THE POLITICALLY OPPRESSED

Come to the stove, warm yourself.

-Thanks. -It's freezing.

Do you need better clothes? Not to kick the bucket on the way.

No need, I'm used to it. Will I get the documents?

We'll make them nice and pretty. They'll be airtight.

Just say what surname to write.

Petrov or Stepanov?

You cannot decide people's fates

-and still be a human to them. -Trotsky.

You are hearing that from me, Nikolai Trotsky.

Trotsky is my surname.

So you took the surname of your warden?

I did not just take it.

No, I immortalized it.

I skinned him and put his pelt on.

Like some hunters do.

Who is a hunter, basically?

It is a monster that defeats another monster.

Not more.

In 1918 I had to become the most fearsome of monsters.

And I did.

This justifies the actions Stalin has to take now.

The monsters are divided into two categories.

Some become ones for the greater goal,

others because they like it.

You know what I've just heard?

An allegation by a wounded lion who has it in for a stronger opponent.

While it was Stalin, not you, who built the world everyone dreamed about.

He succeeded, and you failed.

Honey, it's time for the medicine.

Natalia, I don't want it. I feel great.

Leon, don't argue, you know it's no use.

See, Jacson, it's not just you who doesn't recognize my authority.

I think your wife sees you as a common man

who has to sleep, eat and take pills.

You are wrong.

I am sure that I am for her much more

than just a common man.

PARIS, 1902

While Europe is talking,

Russia is craving for action.

I went 5,300 miles in freight cars to get here,

to Europe, the forge of revolution, and what do I see?

The revolutionary thought reeks of apple strudel.

"Iskra" has been writing the same things for a year!

Dreams with a feckless theory of revolution in the fat Europe.

You are like schoolgirls

who raise the ghost of revolution and believe it will come!

This is unheard of.

-Good call! -He speaks the truth.

Not Europe, but Russia is seeing a stark contrast

of wealth of the wealthy and poverty of the poor.

The country has millions of raging, unsatisfied people,

and it is now that Russia needs a revolution,

or the authority will rush into another war with Europe

and blame everything on it.

What is he talking about? A revolution is only possible in an industrial country!

-In Europe! -Nonsense!

Europe, with its satiated, quiet peoples cannot lead the way.

Therefore it will always be led by others.

Russia is a backward country!

Yes! It is backward,

encrusted, drinking,

burning in its own anger, but it is a power!

It is energy, like the oceanic energy of tides!

I'm saying, take this energy, tame it, arm it,

and it will sweep everything in its path!

Bravo. That is utterly amusing.

Your naivety is only outweighed by your foolishness.

Goodbye, a child in a Russian shirt.

Stay well, Comrade Plekhanov!

Clearly, you were sitting too long in this café.

Comrade Trotsky. Let me introduce myself...

I absolutely agree. The proletariat, left unattended,

will be restricted to economic demands.

Between freedom and bread people always choose bread.

Please...

-Lenin. -I know who you are.

If you agree, why didn't you support me?

He carries weight in the party. Our fight will harm the movement.

And you, with flashes like this, will burn out fast.

Is it better to smolder? Like you? I'm afraid, they won't forgive me.

-Who? -The people.

-Caring for the people? -And you?

I want to change the world, what people got to do with it?

People are a tool.

-In your hands? -And yours.

And our task is to make them want a revolution,

not bread.

How, if you keep agreeing with Plekhanov?

Georgy is just a man, too.

You mean, a tool.

You are a fast learner! Come round.

The simple way. Informally, as a friend.

-We are not friends. -Well.

We did break the bread.

Yes.

Good afternoon. Let me introduce myself. Alexander Parvus.

I know who you are.

-Then what do you know about me? -You make money from everything.

Even the revolution. In other words, a slick opportunist.

I came to congratulate you for a brilliant speech

which, sadly, changes nothing.

You are an excellent speaker, a great publicist...

You undoubtedly have the makings of a leader.

-That's why I came to offer my help. -Thanks, I don't need it.

You think it is better to sit here?

Let's be honest, Plekhanov and Lenin are great men,

long-time leaders, but, unfortunately, nothing happens.

-What of it? -We need a new leader.

And we have one! A man who can inflame the hearts,

a man to follow not only to cafés, but against bayonets, if needed.

You are that leader, Leon!

-Nobody knows me. -That's a trifling matter.

Making people famous is my job.

I made Maxim Gorky. He is famous all over Europe.

He is a writer. I don't need that kind of fame.

Yes, you do. Let's do a different angle.

Take an actress.

If she is unknown, nobody wants her, nobody is interested in her,

but as soon as she becomes a prima donna, the world is at her feet!

Money, jewelry, and if needed, kingdoms.

Yes, yes, there have been precedents!

A leader of a revolution is like a prima.

He has to go and take the audience. Control them.

It's a lot like...

sex.

No! It is sex!

Let's say I agree. What's in it for you?

Money.

I will make you the most powerful revolutionary of your time.

I'll make money on your name. See, I don't conceal it.

And I do not play a priest. I am a man of business.

I agree. Where do we start?

Please.

Go ahead, my friend. This house is mine.

I lodge your socialist colleagues here. Please.

It's not the Metropol hotel, and, of course, not the Hilton,

but still, it is a house, a place to live.

Alexander.

I'm glad I've met you. I'd like to pay for the next month.

Natalia, I told you many times, I will not take money from you! No, no!

And I told you many times that you can lodge those socialists for free.

And I am not going to be a sponger.

Take it or I move out.

As you please.

Meet your new neighbor, Leon Trotsky.

Hello.

I attended one of your speeches.

How did you like it?

I didn't. Nice to meet you.

I'd love to give hope to you, but she is a hard nut. Doesn't crack.

Please, come in.

The door can always be locked.

The ceiling does not leak.

Well? Does it work for you?

Quite so.

Anyway, this is not a basement.

That's right. It's not.

What was this girl's name?

Well, you are not the first and not the last. Natalia Sedova.

She is from an entirely different circle.

Bohemians!

Theatre, exhibitions... Another life.

Different ideals.

I got it.

Good luck.

Plekhanov is important, but he is old.

It is at least unreasonable to bet on him!

I would bet on Lenin. He is more reliable in choosing means.

Lenin is too stubborn and obsessed with personal revenge.

It can hinder the main goal.

-There is another option. -Really?

As far as I know,

Russian revolutionary movement has no more figures but Plekhanov and Lenin.

It has!

This new fellow is rapidly gaining power in the revolutionary circles.

-And if we invest in his upbringing... -We don't have time.

I don't know when a new war begins, but it will.

This is the 20th century. You cannot win with cannons alone.

We need a real leverage to destabilize Russia.

Here!

On the other hand,

if we make this Trotsky into our pocket revolutionary...

Quite an interesting idea.

How much money do you think we need to disintegrate Russia with a revolution?

This question is always hard to answer.

I believe...

a billion marks would be enough.

I wanted to ask you, Gelfand.

Why did you choose the name Alexander Parvus?

Are you ashamed of your Jewish background?

-Have a nice day. -Goodbye.

The more flawless a person looks, the more demons there are inside.

And people, seeing the beauty... Hold on.

They want to see the hidden, the malign... It is attractive.

Not bad, not bad.

I think we may lose the point behind these decorations.

Nothing in politics is random. Everything matters.

What you say, how you say it, how you look.

It has to be a seamless whole. A manifesto.

Do you remember Natalia?

The emancipated girl who hated my speech?

No, no. It's not about you speaking poorly, it's about...

How can I put this? All social democrats look ugly.

They are ill-dressed.

I understand, it is the inside that matters. It is the most valuable thing.

But inner ethics without a nice appearance appeal only to outcasts.

I have good news for you.

A letter from some Miss Sokolovskaya.

Apparently, you are married and have two children.

Do you regret it?

I never regret anything.

Hello, dear Leon.

It's been six months that we are in exile without you.

I'm glad that you have reached Europe. I always believed you could.

Our girls got taller.

Zinaida remembers you, asks when Daddy comes back.

ALEKSANDRA SOKOLOVSKAYA 1872-1938

Nina is finally healthy.

I don't know what to add. I keep remembering our last day.

Hello. This is for you, the documents.

THE IRKUTSK GOVERNORATE, 1902 EXILE FOR POLITICAL PRISONERS

Hide them. Trotsky.

-How is Nina? -Asleep.

When?

Today. While the taiga is passable.

Not muddy yet.

This is not forever, is it?

You will go, but then... we will be together?

Yes. Yes, sure!

Get up!

No lying around!

Get up, now!

It's late.

I hope I answered all of your questions?

Thank you.

Listen, Jacson.

If you decide to continue...

come round.

From this day on you are welcome in this house.

You will go, but then...

we will be together?

Yes, of course.

Are you tired, Leon?

I am, Aleksandra, dear.

Daddy, I'm here! Daddy, don't leave me!

Dad! Dad!

Leon, are you alive?