Afrikaans
Akan
Albanian
Amharic
Arabic
Armenian
Azerbaijani
Basque
Belarusian
Bemba
Bengali
Bihari
Bosnian
Breton
Bulgarian
Cambodian
Catalan
Cebuano
Cherokee
Chichewa
Chinese (Simplified)
Chinese (Traditional)
Corsican
Croatian
Czech
Danish
Dutch
Esperanto
Estonian
Ewe
Faroese
Filipino
Finnish
French
Frisian
Ga
Galician
Georgian
German
Greek
Guarani
Gujarati
Haitian Creole
Hausa
Hawaiian
Hebrew
Hindi
Hmong
Hungarian
Icelandic
Igbo
Indonesian
Interlingua
Irish
Italian
Japanese
Javanese
Kannada
Kazakh
Kinyarwanda
Kirundi
Kongo
Korean
Krio (Sierra Leone)
Kurdish
Kurdish (Soranรฎ)
Kyrgyz
Laothian
Latin
Latvian
Lingala
Lithuanian
Lozi
Luganda
Luo
Luxembourgish
Macedonian
Malagasy
Malay
Malayalam
Maltese
Maori
Marathi
Mauritian Creole
Moldavian
Mongolian
Myanmar (Burmese)
Montenegrin
Nepali
Nigerian Pidgin
Northern Sotho
Norwegian
Norwegian (Nynorsk)
Occitan
Oriya
Oromo
Pashto
Persian
Polish
Portuguese (Brazil)
Portuguese (Portugal)
Punjabi
Quechua
Romanian
Romansh
Runyakitara
Russian
Samoan
Scots Gaelic
Serbian
Serbo-Croatian
Sesotho
Setswana
Seychellois Creole
Shona
Sindhi
Sinhalese
Slovak
Slovenian
Somali
Spanish (Latin American)
Sundanese
Swahili
Swedish
Tajik
Tamil
Tatar
Telugu
Thai
Tigrinya
Tonga
Tshiluba
Tumbuka
Turkish
Turkmen
Twi
Uighur
Ukrainian
Urdu
Uzbek
Vietnamese
Welsh
Wolof
Xhosa
Yiddish
Yoruba
Zulu
Central Partnership
Central Partnership presents
Halt!
A Kolibri Studio production
Sergei KOLTAKOV
Get them out!
Sergei GOROBCHENKO
One, two, three, one, two, three!
Yelena LYADOVA
Anatoliy BELIY
Viktoria ISAKOVA
Alexander GOLUBEV
Pavel DEREVYANKO
In a Yury Moroz film
THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV
Based on the novel by F.M. Dostoyevsky
Screenplay: Alexander CHERVINSKY
Director of photography: Nikolai IVASIV R.G.C.
Artistic directors: Yekaterina KOZHEVNIKOVA, Marat KIM
Halt!
Composer: Henri LOLASHVILI
New Russia State Symphonic Orchestra Conductor: Yury BASHMET
Sound director: Marina NIGMATULINA
Make-up: Marina FIRSOVA, Olga UIKOLAEVA
Forward march!
Move!
Part Eleven
- Ivan Fyodorovitch! - Tomorrow, tomorrow.
Let's deal with it tomorrow.
Hallucinations are quite likely in your condition.
Doctor said that you must take steps at once, without a moment's delay.
Or things will go badly.
Excuse me, I only mention it to remind you.
You went to Smerdyakov's to find out about Katerina Ivanovna,
but you came away without finding out anything about her.
Yes, I'd forgotten.
I should have remembered that myself.
Why do you interfere?
As if I should believe that you prompted me, and that I didn't remember it of myself.
Don't believe it then. What's the good of believing against your will?
Besides, proofs are no help to believing, especially material proofs.
The other world and material proofs, what next!
And if you come to that, does proving there's a devil prove that there's a God?
I sometimes guess what you are prating.
For it's I, I myself speaking, not you.
But I feel ashamed. I want to walk about the room.
I'll wet a towel and put it on my head and you'll vanish into air.
I am so glad you treat me so familiarly.
Fool, do you suppose I should stand on ceremony with you?
You are a lie, you are my illness.
You are a phantom.
- You are a poor relation. - Poor relation?
C'est charmant.
What am I on earth but a poor relation?
By the way, you are actually beginning to take me for something real, not simply your fancy.
Never for one minute have I taken you for reality.
You are my hallucination.
Hallucination?
You flew out at Alyosha this evening. You learnt it from him!
How do you know that he visits me?
You were thinking of me then.
So for one brief moment you did believe that I really exist.
That was a moment of weakness.
You laugh - that's a good sign.
You are so much more polite today.
That's because you are going to defend your brother
and to sacrifice yourself.
That is noble. That is beautiful.
Hold your tongue, fool.
I'll kick you!
If you kick me, you must believe in my reality.
You went yesterday to the doctor. What did the doctor say?
Fool!
Fool again.
I am a fallen angel.
- And I love people. - You love people?
I love them genuinely.
I like staying with you like now.
We have nothing but indeterminate equations!
Here all is formulated and geometrical.
Everything is circumscribed.
I love the realism of earth.
I adopt all your habits here.
I've grown fond of going to the public baths, and steam myself with merchants and priests.
What I dream of is becoming incarnate once for all in the form of some merchant's wife,
and of believing all she believes.
To go to church and offer a candle in simple-hearted faith, upon my word it is.
I like being doctored too.
There was an outbreak of smallpox.
Now rheumatism has come.
The devil have rheumatism!
I am Satan. Sum et nihil humanum a me alienum puto.
What, what?
I am Satan and nothing human is alien to me.
That never entered my head.
But you didn't get that from me.
- From you. No.
Rheumatism! I didn't get it from you.
- We have there... - Where is it there?
In the space.
In ethereal spaces. There's such a frost.
You fancy, 150 degrees below zero!
You know the game the village girls play?
They invite the unwary to lick an axe in thirty degrees of frost.
The tongue instantly freezes to it and the dupe tears the skin off.
But that's only in 30 degrees.
In 150 degrees it would be enough to put your finger on the axe
and it would be the end of it.
If only there could be an axe there.
And can there be an axe there?
Yes, what would become of an axe there?
What would become of an axe in space?
It would begin, I think, flying round the earth.
Without knowing why, like a satellite.
Get the better of me by realism, to convince me that you exist.
- I won't believe it! - But I am not fibbing.
It's all the truth.
The truth is unhappily hardly ever amusing.
Don't talk philosophy, you ass!
Philosophy, indeed,
when all my right side is numb.
You are angry again. You are always angry.
All you care about is intelligence.
But I repeat again that I would give away all this superstellar life,
simply to be transformed into the soul of a merchant's wife
weighing eighteen stone and set candles at God's shrine.
Is there a God or not?
My dear fellow, upon my word I don't know.
I think, therefore I am.
I know that for a fact.
all the rest, all these worlds, God and even Satan
all that is not proved.
Does all that exist of itself, or is it only an emanation of myself,
a logical development of my ego.
All right, I stop.
then could my soul beget a flunkey like you?
My dear fellow, I know a most charming and attractive young Russian gentleman,
a great lover of literature,
the author of a poem entitled The Grand Inquisitor.
Stop it! Stop it!
Or I'll kill you!
He takes me for a dream and he want to kill me.
Oh, I love the dreams of my ardent young friends, quivering with eagerness for life!
'There are new men,' you decided, when you were writing your article.
'They propose to destroy everything and begin with cannibalism.
Stupid fellows! They didn't ask my advice!
I maintain that nothing need be destroyed,
that we only need to destroy the idea of God in man,
that's how we have to set to work.
As soon as men have all of them denied God,
the old conception of the universe will fall of itself,
and, what's more, the old morality.
Everything will begin anew.
Men will unite to take from life all it can give.
Man will be lifted up with a spirit of divine Titanic pride
and the man-god will appear.
Man will feel such lofty joy
that it will make up for all his old dreams of the joys of heaven.
Charming!
The question now is, when will it ever come?
But what if owing to man's inveterate stupidity, this cannot come for at least a thousand years?
The new man may well become the man-god,
even if he is the only one in the whole world,
and overstep all the barriers of the old morality.
There is no law for God.
'All things are lawful' and that's the end of it!
But after all, that's stupid.
It's Alyosha with the most interesting news.
What do you want? I told you not to come!
Smerdyakov hanged himself.
Alexey Fyodorovitch.
The landlord came to clear away the samovar,
and he was hanging on there.
On the table lay a note:
'I destroy my life of my own will and desire,
so as to throw no blame on anyone.'
I went straight to the police captain and from him I've come straight to you.
Brother, you look and don't seem to understand what I tell you.
It's a good thing you came.
I knew he had hanged himself.
From whom?
I don't know. But I knew.
Did I know?
Yes, I did.
He told me.
Who is he?
What's the time?
Twelve o'clock.
Brother, lie down, you are delirious.
He was afraid of you. You are a 'pure cherub.'
Dmitri calls you a cherub.
Whom are you talking about?
Who was here?
The devil!
He's taken to visiting me.
He goes to the baths.
Alyosha, you are cold. You've been in the snow.
Would you like some tea?
I have dreams now, Alyosha.
Yet they are not dreams, but reality.
I walk about, talk and see.
Though I am asleep.
Would you like a wet towel on your head?
Perhaps it will do you good.
Give me the towel. I just threw it down there.
It's not here. I know where it is.
Here it is.
Stay.
Stay.
An hour ago I took that towel from there.
I am afraid for Katya tomorrow.
I am more afraid of her than of anything.
She will cast me off tomorrow and trample me under foot.
She thinks that I am ruining Mitya from jealousy on her account!
Yes, she thinks that!
But it's not so. No.
Tomorrow the cross, but not the gallows.
No, I shan't hang myself.
How did I know that Smerdyakov had hanged himself?
Yes, it was he told me so.
And you are quite convinced that there has been someone here?
Yes, right here.
He disappeared when you arrived.
He is myself, Alyosha.
All that's base in me, all that's mean and contemptible.
He was laughing at me.
You are going to perform an act of heroic virtue.
You confess you murdered your father.
That the valet murdered him at your instigation.
Brother, restrain yourself. It was not you murdered him.
It's not true!
No.
He knows it.
He knows it.
You are going to perform an act of heroic virtue, and you don't believe in virtue,
that's what tortures you and makes you angry.
He said that to me about me.
It's you say that, not he.
Because you are ill and delirious.
Tormenting yourself.
No, he knows what he says.
'You are going from pride,' he says.
Smerdyakov's dead, he has hanged himself,
and who'll believe you alone?
Why do you want to go meddling
if your sacrifice is of no use to anyone?
You'd give a great deal
To know yourself why you go!
But you will go, you know you'll go.
That's a riddle for you!
I am afraid for Katya. More afraid of her than of anything.
Tomorrow for Katya.
God will conquer!
All rise, court is now in session.
Please, be seated.
Court proceedings with jurors' participation.
A case of the murder of a landowner Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov.
Mr. Karamazov is prosecuted as a premeditated murderer.
Are all jurors here?
All jurors are here.
Mr. bailiff, are all witnesses here?
Madame Hohlakov is absent through illness.
And Smerdyakov, through his sudden death,
of which an official statement from the police was presented.
He was a dog and died like a dog!
I'll take stern measures, if such an irregularity is repeated.
Calm down. This will do you no good with the jury or the public.
Ivan!
Ivan, wait!
Witness, you are under oath and you must speak the truth.
Was the murdered a good father?
And is it truth that prisoner with servants was lodged in a yard house?
He would be eaten alive by lice without me.
But he made an attempt on my life.
Did the prisoner, who had a grudge against his father,
threaten to kill his father?
He said that just after he came.
That he would come back and kill him.
What about the night of the murder?
When you saw running prisoner, did you notice an open door of the house?
It was open.
Dmitri Fyodorovitch ran out of that door.
And I have forgiven that you hit me. And I'm not angry.
But could Smerdyakov steal the money?
No, he couldn't.
No more questions.
As we learn from the preliminary inquiry, on that evening,
you used some sort of balsam or decoction to rub your lumbago, in the hope of curing it.
Now, with your permission I'll ask you a question.
Of what was that balsam made?
There was saffron in it.
Nothing but saffron?
There was milfoil in it, too.
And pepper perhaps?
Yes, there was pepper, too.
And all dissolved in vodka?
In spirit.
After rubbing your back, I believe, you drank what was left in the bottle?
I did.
Did you drink much?
A wine-glass or two?
It might have been a tumbler-full.
A tumbler-full, even.
Perhaps a tumbler and a half?
A glass and a half of neat spirit - is not at all bad, don't you think?
You might see the gates of heaven open, not only the door into the garden?
Whether you were awake or not when you saw the open door?
I was on my legs.
That's not a proof.
Could you have answered at that moment, what year it is?
I don't know.
What year is it, Anno Domini, do you know?
How many fingers you have on your hands?
I am a servant.
If my betters think fit to make game of me, it is my duty to suffer it.
The defense must ask more relevant questions.
No more questions to ask.
prisoner, do you have any comment to make on the evidence?
For combing the lice off me, I thank him.
For forgiving my blows, I thank him.
Except about the door, all he has said is true.
You don't feel good. They can release you.
I feel good, absolutely good.
Brother.
Pan Mitya had three thousand roubles.
I saw a lot of money in his hands.
At what moment, Pan Mussyalovitch, did you see money?
When Pan Mitya wanted to buy my honour.
I served to the Crown and I do not sell my honour.
Splendid. That ennobles you in our eyes.
But since we are talking about honour, I will ask you one more question.
Mr. Maximov is ready to give evidence
that during card games with Mr. Karamazov,
you changed the deck.
Is it true?
No more questions to ask.
Madame Verhovtseva, I welcome you to the courtroom.
In my point of view, the prisoner is now and was before
absolutely normal.
Even though before he was arrested, he was quite nervous and excited,
that was induced by obvious reasons.
Anger, jealousy and hard drinking.
So his behavior didn't include some sort of affect.
Thank you.
Madame Verhovtseva, were you betrothed to the prisoner?
Until he left me of his own accord.
Did you give him three thousand roubles, so he could send them to your relatives?
Yes.
There was no need for him to worry himself about that debt.
I didn't give him the money simply to send it off.
I felt at the time that he was in great need of money.
I was firmly convinced that he would send off that money
as soon as he got money from his father.
I have never doubted his disinterestedness and his honesty,
in money matters.
And I had no right, indeed, to be exacting as to that money.
I was once indebted to him for assistance in money.
For more than three thousand.
Did that take place at the beginning of your acquaintance?
Yes.
I needed that money so I could save my father from disgrace.
I came to Dmitri Fyodorovitch to ask fourty five hundred roubles from him.
I was ready for everything.
And he gave me his last money - five thousand roubles.
All he had in the world.
No more questions to ask.
Madame Verhovtseva, you are free to go.
Mr. Karamazov, are you ready to give evidence?
Are you ill?
He will give his evidence as soon as he recovered.
Then please, may I ask you?
Mr. Karamazov, did your brother tell you that he intended to kill your father?
He did not tell me so directly.
How so? Did he indirectly?
He told me that at an extreme moment, at a moment of fury,
he might perhaps murder him.
And you believed him?
I did. But I never doubted that some higher feeling would save him at that fatal moment.
As it has indeed saved him, for it was not he killed my father.
Smerdyakov killed him.
Why Smerdyakov?
And why are you so completely persuaded of your brother's innocence?
I saw from his face he wasn't lying.
Only from his face?
Is that all the proof you have?
I have no other proof.
No more questions to ask.
When it was that the prisoner had told you of his hatred for his father?
You heard it at your last meeting, didn't you?
Yes at our last meeting.
Do you remember how it was?
What did you talk about else with your brother?
He said that he had a means of regaining his honour.
Here on his breast.
Like he struck himself in his heart, but not exactly there.
Where did he strike?
Right here.
- Now I remember I have some thought. - What thought?
That thought is kind of stupid.
That the heart is not on that part of the breast, but below.
Just below the neck.
Now I think that he was perhaps pointing then to that little bag
in which he had fifteen hundred roubles.
That's right, Alyosha.
- Sit down. - Now I understand everything.
He said several times the word 'half.'
Fifteen hundred roubles of those three thousand.
Half of that debt he might have returned to Katerina Ivanovna.
But he eloped with Grushenka.
That disgrace meant that he could return half of the debt but he wouldn't.
And you clearly, confidently remember
that he struck himself just on this part of the breast?
Clearly and confidently.
So, when he came to Mokroe, he had these fifteen hundred rubles.
And that was not the money he could steal from his father.
I have no more questions to ask.
Could you please describe one more time that conversation with the prisoner?
Had the prisoner seemed to point to anything?
Perhaps he had simply struck himself with his fist on the breast?
But it was not with his fist.
He pointed with his fingers and pointed here, very high up.
How could I have so completely forgotten it till this moment?
What can you say about this evidence?
That is what it was.
I have been pointing to the fifteen hundred roubles which were on my breast.
That was the most shameful act of my whole life.
I might have repaid it and didn't repay it.
I preferred to remain a thief in her eyes
rather than give it back.
You are right, Alyosha! Thank you.
Thank you, Alexey Fyodorovitch.
Witness Svetlova is asked for giving evidence.
How could I have forgotten it?
Did you hear from the prisoner about the envelope with three thousand roubles?
I heard that Fyodor Pavlovitch had a package for me.
But not from Mitya, from 'that wicked wretch'.
To whom are you referring as 'that wicked wretch'?
Smerdyakov, who murdered his master and hanged himself last night.
But what ground do you have for such a definite accusation?
Dmitri Fyodorovitch told me so himself.
You can believe him.
The woman who came between us has ruined him.
She is the cause of it all.
Please, explain.
Whom are you referring?
The young lady.
This one. Katerina Ivanovna.
She sent for me, offered me chocolate.
Tried to fascinate me.
There's not much true shame about her.
Please, moderate your language.
You accuse Madame Verhovtseva in everything.
But when the prisoner was arrested,
you cried out: 'It's all my fault. We'll go to Siberia together! '
I don't remember what I felt at the time.
So at that moment you believed that he killed his father?
Everyone was crying out that he had killed his father,
so I thought he did that.
But when he said he wasn't guilty, I believed him at once,
And always shall believe him. He is not the man to tell a lie.
No more questions to ask.
Mr. Karamazov,
are you ready to give evidence?
You might answer or refuse to answer, but you must bear witness according to your conscience.
Well, and what else?
You are perhaps still unwell?
Don't trouble yourself, your excellency, I am well enough
and can tell you something interesting.
You have some special communication to make?
No.
I haven't.
I have nothing particular.
Ivan Fyodorovitch!
Mr. Karamazov!
Do you know anything of your father's many relations with Dmitri?
I know nothing about it.
I wasn't interested in the subject.
Did you hear from your brother about threats to murder his father?
I heard that from him.
Have you heard from the prisoner...
Ivan Fyodorovitch?
Have you heard of the envelope,
which your father had, with three thousand roubles,
which he prepared for Madame Svetlova?
I heard of the money in the envelope.
From Smerdyakov.
Witness!
The same thing over and over again.
I have nothing particular to tell the court.
I see you are unwell and understand your feelings.
Let me go, your excellency.
I feel very ill.
Am I like the peasant girl, your excellency?
'I'll stand up if I like, and I won't if I don't.'
What do you mean by that?
They were trying to put on her sarafan to take her to church to be married,
and she said, 'I'll stand up if I like, and I won't if I don't.'.
Here's the money that lay in that envelope.
The money for the sake of which our father was murdered.
THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV
End of Part Eleven
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get subtitles in any language from opensubtitles.com, and translate them here.