Sny (1993) - full transcript
Russian countess in 1893 has strange dreams about herself living a life as a dishwasher in 1993' Moscow after dissolution of the USSR.
MOSFILM Studios
COURIER Studios
Film Committee, Russia
In collaboration with
SLOVO Studios
a Karen SHAKHNAZAROV and
Alexander BORODYANSKY production
Oleg BASILASHVILI
Lyudmila MORDVINOVA
in
D R E A M S
What is worrying you, Countess?
A dream, Doctor.
I'm haunted by one and
the same dream.
That I am working in Moscow,
in 1993,
at a canteen number nine.
A canteen? What is a canteen?
It's like a cafe, only it is
dirty and full of drunkards.
Ah, it's a tavern then.
And what are you doing there?
I'm a dish-washer.
A quota worker
Masha Stepanova.
I'm twenty, I live
in a dormitory.
Can you recount any details
of that dream of yours?
We've been robbed of 4 kilos
of sugar.
Semen Borisovich hid it
in a strongbox.
But the sugar disappeared.
Who is Semen Borisovich?
Semen Borisovich is our
accountant.
A disgusting personality.
Making advances at me.
There's also another repelling
type, in a coat.
He's drunken all the time
and wants me as his mistress.
They say he's a tough guy.
What is 'tough'?
Tough means... Well, a brigand.
He is going around in a big
car, with hookers.
A what?
Hookers - harlots who earn
dollars, francs. Never rubles.
- Why not taking rubles?
- Who needs that wooden money!
Well...
Countess, you've
a venus destroginus.
Nervous overstrain.
I would recommend a spa
in the Crimea.
That's to where I'm going
with my husband.
Well,
my regards to your husband.
- To the dressmaker's!
- Yes, Madame.
What do you think?
Wonderful. This dress
fits you exquisitely.
Thank you, Mr. Schtockman.
Could you send it to me
not later than 11 in the morning?
Of course.
And what is this dress?
This is a dress of
Countess Polonskaya.
What? Varya Polonskaya?
Why didn't you offer me
smth like this?
She received this cut from
Mons. Richard in Versailles.
You mean she'll wear it
at tomorrow's ball?
I think so.
Dimitry!
Dimitry!
What happened, Countess?
Count! I positively can't
appear at tomorrow's ball!
But the ball is given in
honour of the grand duke.
Not to be there means
disrespect towards the Court.
But my ugly attire
will be outshined
by the splendour
of countess Polonskaya!
This is more than I can stand!
What are you talking about?
I saw her dress she is going
to wear tomorrow.
Now I see.
My dear countess!
You are a diamond
beyond any setting!
Stepan, I want my coffee to
finish my report to His Majesty.
Moscow Radio.
'Dialogue-Optim'
company -
money transfers
from Russia to CIS countries.
Maybe the mice ate it,
Semen Borisovich?
The mice? How could the mice
open a safe?
Why putting sugar in a safe?
Everyone goes in for
stealing today!
Wow, 4 kilos of sugar!
If no one returns the sugar
by 12 o'clock, I'll file
a complaint.
Go on working.
Stepanova, wait.
Stepanova, do you fancy
for a video film?
Nope.
Come on, let's go and
have some cognac.
Come on...
- I'm not going anywhere.
- You silly, I love you!
Hey, come over here.
Do you want to appear
in a film?
- What kind of film?
- About the coup.
Our sponsors
is a British company.
A political thriller.
- What role will I play?
- The leading one.
Our heroine, a university
student,
a White House defendant.
She has a mission from
President to reconnoiter
and to find out the time
of White House besiege.
General Rastorguev, a sworn
Communist,
can give her the X-hour
if she has sex with him.
But she is a virgin:
her wooer - a student-democrat
from philology faculty.
For the sake of democracy
she agrees to have sex
with that coup fiend.
Okay?
- Okay.
- Let's go to the movie set!
Eltsin! Eltsin!
Comrades, any volunteers
for a risky mission?
- Any volunteers?
- Me!
What a wonderful young
generation, Oleg!
- Which one shall we pick out?
- That girl.
- I think she'll do.
- What is your name?
My name is Masha Stepanova.
President sends you
as a scout to Division 48.
You must find out
when they are planning
to attack The White House.
Come back not later
than tomorrow morning.
Remember: the fate of democracy
is in your hands!
Wait! Who is that?
I must see the Commander.
Hawk to Falcon.
A pretty girl
wants to see the Commander.
Let her through.
You want to know when we gonna
attack The White House?
Yes, General.
Semen Borisovich?
I'm not Semen Borisovich.
But you are an accountant
from our canteen!
I'm anything but
an accountant!
I'm General Rastorguev,
Commander
of Assault Division 48.
- Shall I serve the tea?
- No!
Gee, you look so sweet in
that mini-skirt of yours!
Okay, I'll disclose
X-hour to you
only if you have sex with me.
Not in your life!
Not even for the sake
of democracy?
- You will be mine!
- Never!
- I've got you!
- Let go!
I'll show you what is what!
Let go, you darned
communist!
What's wrong?
A bad dream?
Yes: Semen Borisovich tried
to seduce me!
- What Semen Borisovich?
- Accountant from our canteen.
Accountant? Canteen?
What are you talking about?
About my dream, Count.
I was on my way
to The White House
to tell President there'd
be no storming.
- But Semen Borisovich...
- Did you see the doctor?
He prescribed me a spa
in the Crimea.
Fine. And, I own it,
the sooner - the better.
After I appear with my report
before the State Council,
we'll go to the Crimea.
A dress
from Mister Schtockman.
Aha, that very dress.
Pray, show it to me.
But it's wonderful!
Because you didn't see
Polonskaya's dress!
Parasha, I want my coffee
to finish my report
to His Majesty.
Parasha! Give me that dress.
You know what, Parasha...
Give me scissors.
- Scissors?
- Yes.
Count and Countess Polonsky!
Polonskaya is charming today.
She will be a favourite
of this ball.
Let us wait for Countess
Prizorova to rival her.
Count and Countess Prizorov!
You produced quite a sensation.
Look at Polonskaya.
She is going to swoon.
May I pay my humble respects
to you, Your Majesty!
Yes, it's a real scandal.
A scandal it is, Doctor.
Imagine: the grand duke and
his wife and the Court:
and my wife wearing
that skirt!
What went into her head?
She's wearing skirts like this
in her dreams.
- Those bizarre dreams.
- Exceedingly bizarre.
Imagine: last night she saw
me in her dream.
- You know what I was doing?
- What?
Peddling porno shots
in Arbat street.
Yes, Doctor.
A model being my wife, in most
indecent stances.
I push off that dirty material
in Arbat street, 500 rubles
per one photo.
Why on earth you doing this,
Your Excellency?
To make both ends meet:
I'm a pensioner.
The prices are unbelievable!
Bread is 43 rubles!
- Per one pound?
- Per one loaf!
Ostankino sausage, not quite
fresh, 1750 rubles per kilo.
Eggs - 352 rubles
per dozen.
Oh, I'm sorry. I seem not
to be well myself.
This situation is telling
on my nerves.
Yes, how bizarre.
Indeed.
Very well, I will give you
a medicine.
It's the newest development,
sent by Professor Zolenberg
from Berlin.
He is a very nice person!
It will relieve the countess
from her nightmares.
Two tea-spoonfuls before
going to bed.
- Thank you, Doctor.
- Be in touch.
Your hip!
The curve!
Smile!
Smile!
Make it more sexy.
Even more sexy!
And more sexy.
What's wrong?
I can't.
You want me to die
from starvation?
No, but I can't pose
nude any more.
Blimey!
Hey, your every photo
fetches 500 rubles.
We pull through thanks to you.
And damn those reformers.
You drink gorgeous Scotch
and expensive cigars!
You don't want me to drink that
hogwash that you bought?
You said the photos were
for California fashion magazine,
but instead you selling them
at Arbat.
I've sent them to California.
Waiting for a reply.
That must be the landlords.
I'm not home.
- Can I help you?
- It's about an ad.
- What ad?
- In 'Moskovsky komsomolets'.
'A bisexual guy would meet
a well-off sponsor for a partner,
'or a girl with whimsical
inclinations.
'Reward wanted in currency.'
- It's a mistake.
- But it's your address.
Some blah-blah-sexual placed
an ad with our address!
- So, it's a mistake then.
- No, come on in.
You're welcome.
- A minus or a plus?
- A plus.
I'm a minus. Do you have
hard currency on you?
No, I pay in rubles,
at the exchange rate.
It's written there in plain
Russian: 'Hard currency.'
I pay 1200.
No, Sir, no wooden money.
Get lost!
What a cheek!
- What a swindler!
- Count, are you nuts?
Mashenka, privation drove
me to this.
Our government giving
pensioners to the dogs!
Make some dinner, I must
go to work.
Money, Deutch marks, dollars.
Porno!
- How much?
- Five hundred.
- For this?
- Take it or leave it.
Okay, I'll take this
for one dollar.
May I have a look.
- What a pretty girl! How much?
- Five hundred.
Very charming.
She'd look nice
as one of our government.
- Who are you, guys?
- We are MPs.
Promenading here.
Looking for a new
Minister of the Economy.
- A young woman with looks.
- She's what you need.
Yeah. A very nice girl.
- Could we speak to her?
- We live around the corner.
- Our limousine is a step away.
- Let's go.
I won't make it. I'm
a simple dishwasher.
We are not academicians,
but we handle our jobs.
- Some wine?
- Why not.
But why me?
A task of the Minister
of the Economy -
to get credits
from the West.
Something only a pretty girl
with looks can do.
- You know what bankers are like.
- Oh, yes.
Cheers!
Care for another glassful?
No, we must go. We've a date
with President.
Please meet our new Minister
of the Economy.
Any objections or questions?
No, let her work.
- The Supreme Council...
- They'll approve.
The Supreme Council
should be kicked out!
Hush, Eduard.
- Any questions to Stepanova?
- No.
Let her work.
Congratulations,
Comrade Stepanova!
What else do we have
on the agenda?
The Ukrainians making
the fur fly.
What do they want?
They grudge us their sugar.
- Why?
- Just because.
Smart ones!
What do we do, comrades?
We should send a wire
that they send us sugar.
Right.
We'll send them a wire.
Right!
What else?
Tomorrow Baron Dominique
arrives,
a spokesperson from IMF,
That's very important.
What can we do
to wring big money from them?
That baron is such a fox!
I was negotiating with him
in Paris.
It'll be a job to make him
cough it up.
For this we have
our new Minister of the Economy.
Comrade Stepanova,
you must do your best
to make them give as much
money as possible.
- Is that all?
- There's a wire from Kazan.
To the effect?..
They want to play football
with us.
MP team versus MP team.
That's a pretty cake!
- On whose turf?
- They didn't say.
What shall we do?
They'll beat us. Tatars
are big lugs.
What shall we do?
Let guys from the Supreme
Soviet play with them.
Right, Eduard: let guys from
the Supreme Soviet carry the can.
May I introduce myself.
Chief of security,
Major Panteleeva.
Stepanova. My husband,
Count Prizorov.
Please.
Nice bread.
Bread-and-salt.
Your dining room.
Your sitting room.
Your hotline.
The study and bedroom
are upstairs.
Do you have a river here?
A swimming pool.
If you need me...
Push this red button here.
What a handsome place.
The government did everything
you could fruitfully work.
Things mundane is not
what I care for.
I must live up to President's
expectations,
I must save our country
from this big crisis.
- Absolutely.
- May I?
You must be our new Minister of
the Economy Miss Stepanova?
Right.
We live next door.
Deputy Defense Minister
General Klochkov.
His dacha is on the left
side from yours.
Minister of agriculture.
Ivan Kurochkin. His dacha
is on the right side.
Minister of Culture.
Bruskov-Bukeev. My dacha
is behind yours.
Glad to meet you. My husband,
Count Prizorov.
- How do you do.
- How do you do.
We were just passing by
and decided to
look in on you.
Right. Come on in.
- Care for a drink, comrades?
- Gin and tonic.
- Some Scotch.
- Vodka.
- What about you, Count?
- I would have some cognac.
A glassful of dry wine.
Let us drink to renovation
of our Russia!
Yes!
Help yourselves.
In pre-revolution times
Russia
was the second largest
country in pig farming.
Now pig farming
is in doldrums...
...because we have nothing
to feed pigs with.
Come credits from the West,
we could buy grain,
we could feed pigs thus
increasing pig head status.
And our people will be filled.
Provided people are filled,
they can work well.
Those who work well -
live well.
Those who live well
feel happy.
Instead of drinking vodka -
they'd go to museums, theatres.
They grow civilized. Which means
higher standards of culture.
If there are higher
standards of culture,
we have less hooligans
loafing about the streets.
Now we run short
of civilized people.
Hence - vodka-drinking.
And even making moonshine.
And even brawling in the street.
And stealing what comes their way.
All this is due
to the lack of culture.
But if we get credits from
the West,
we can boost our culture.
We can boost the number
of civilized people.
So, at any rate,
we need their credits badly.
We can only hope
on Stepanova here.
We're broadcasting from
Vnukovo airport.
Any minute now a plane
will arrive
with IMF spokesperson
Baron Dominique on board.
He will negotiate with Minister
of the Economy Stepanova.
What do you expect from
the pending negotiations?
We expect to get
the highest credits
at the lowest interest.
Well, good luck to you.
Aha, I will get ye!
Baron, we would like
to know
what credits
do you have in mind?
Zero. No credits until
you pay old ones.
We can't pay old credits with
no new ones coming.
I don't care how you pay them.
We'll never have enough for you.
And we have no money either.
That's a pretty thing:
everyone is moneyless.
But where is the money?
Where did it go?
I don't know.
Very well.
Another drop of that dew?
Enough.
Very well.
We need to make a call.
What do we do? They've
no money.
And you believed! They are
wallowing in money.
- What do we do then?
- You must flirt with him.
- He is so impressive.
- He won't look at me.
'cause you sit like a dummy!
Give him a wink,
flash a knee, slide open
a button..
- And he'll swallow the bait.
- And if not?
Then we'll defame him
for sexual abuse.
What?
I'll bring musicians and you'll
invite him for a dance.
When he gets horny
invite him to your room.
When he steps in - take off
your clothes and scream:
'He's raping me!' -
and I'll come with a camera.
And he'll have to choose between
those photos and credits.
What a base thing to do!
But we're doing this for
the sake of our country.
Come on.
Did you make your call?
Yes.
Where is the count?
He...
He went home:
his mom fell ill.
Now we are alone.
Shall we dance?
I go crazy from Russian women.
What about going upstairs.
Here is the key.
I'll buy some wine
and join you.
Semen Borisovich?
There you are!
Let go!
You bitch! Wait!
I'll get you!
You dirty hooker!
Wait, you viper!
I'll get you!
Now you won't get away.
I'll show you what is what!
Stop jerking!
You could at least offer
me some bubbles.
At last you talking sense.
Instead of playing
hard-to-get...
Let's go and toss of
a drink.
Won't I give it you hot and
strong, Stepanova!
Just you wait, you cheap
hooker!
- You're asking for it!
- Help!
Help! He's raping me!
Now we have him on the hook.
Damn! Who is he?
Semen Borisovich,
our accountant...
...What happened then?
According to the countess,
it was a big scandal.
Our mass media, as usual,
made that bomb go up
and the countess was
made to resign.
Doctor, relieve me from
this hell!
Calm down, my dear.
Calm down.
Count, may I talk with you
in private.
Excuse us, Countess.
Doctor, truly, it's
very disquieting -
those nightmares my
wife has.
Of course. Pray, Count,
tell me:
haven't you noticed anything
strange about your wife?
What do you mean?
That accountant in her dreams -
with a mania to snare
her body...
Oh no. Believe me,
the countess is far
from being an abnormal woman.
But those photos, those
indecent stances...
Have you ever gone
in for photography?
What are you driving at?
I mean this little
mischievous habit
of keeping magazines with
frivolous pictures -
have you ever had
a fancy for ones?
God forbid, I've never
had such magazines!
Why are you asking?
Because dreams are not
our incoherent fantasy.
Dreams only reflect
the surrounding reality.
And there is one thing...
which worries me.
In life I don't see
any motivation
of what the countess
sees in her dreams...
I don't quite understand
you, Doctor.
The fact she sees you
in her dreams
selling in the street
most unhandsome photos...
Maybe she has some grounds
for this?...
- That is too much, Doctor!
- But scientists say...
Please spare me this
talk of yours!
Well...
The more I get convinced
it's a most unusual case.
And I have an opinion
of my own here.
But I would like Monsieur
Renoir to step in.
Who is Monsieur Renoir?
He is an outstanding
interpreter
of dreams and visions,
an honorary member
of many an academy.
Let us not linger then.
Monsieur Renoir is expecting us.
Shall we start?
Take off your hat.
Don't be afraid.
Try to do what I will
tell you.
Now you will sleep.
Close your eyes...
Close your eyes...
You are sleeping.
Now you are going to sleep.
You're seeing dreams...
What do you see?
Take your hands off my bum,
you dirty fuzz!
Very good!
What did she say?
Hush. What else can you see?
You gimme the kicks, Lyokha!
Lekha, without you
I feel blue!
My heart goes clink,
and it's true!
What is that?
Monsters of rock
love peace!!
What?
I'm a sexy girl Masha Stepanova!
Who wants me, boys?
Most amazing!
He's an accountant,
oh, boy!
Gimme a piece of joy!
What is she dreaming about?
Our bash going on!
Dima Prizorov is one of us!
Who?...
Dima Prizorov!
People, I'm here!
Do like me!
Who wants me, girls?
You're my Hannibal-girl,
you will come to my house,
I will do it three times,
I will tear your mouth.
In what you left in my bed
I will drown.
Baby, I wanna go downtown.
But there's a trap at the door,
I can leave nevermore.
But one day you will step
baby, in your own trap.
Now you give me no chance
and a cancan you dance.
And your leash
is the band from my pants.
You freaked out,
you hid out of whack...
- But you'll come back...
- Stop!
Wake up!
Wake up!
- Darling!
- Calm down.
Calm down.
What a distress.
I want your attention,
gentlemen.
Gentlemen, I'm quite
positive
that what we have
is a very singular case.
The countess, in her dreams,
lives in the year 1993.
- 100 years hereafter.
- Clairvoyance?
In some way yes.
Though, some people can be
aware of their clairvoyance.
Back in the 16th century
Nostradamus predicted Napoleon.
But some people possess this
gift only in their sleep.
And their dreams reflect not
contemporaneous reality,
but reality which is due
in 100 or 200 years.
Scientists know such cases.
Say, the Righteous...
- Excuse me, Monsieur...
- Renoir.
Monsieur Renoir, this is
all horse's feathers.
There can't be such reality
even in 1000 years.
But, alas...
'Dirty fuzz'...
'You gimme the kicks'...
You call this reality?
Count, one hundred years is
a big span of time.
Thank you very much,
gentlemen.
Thank you.
Darling, what kind of country
is that?
What?
What is that country
you see in your dreams?
- CIS.
- What is that?
I don't know.
Neither do they.
But do they have
a government?
They have umpteen governments.
But there should be a government
to run the country.
- Do they have a tsar?
- They do without one.
- Where did the tsar go?
- I don't know.
They have had no tsar since
the Revolution.
So, it's Democratic Republic
then, like in France?
I don't know. They don't
know either.
But any state should
have a structure.
- Do they have any order?
- None.
How can such a power
exist without order?
But it exists.
Your Excellency, he's come.
Show him in.
Sorry for summoning you
at such a late hour.
But this is an urgent matter.
I'm at your service.
Monsieur Renoir...
Is it possible
for me to see the dreams
of my wife?
That would be quite a problem.
Monsieur Renoir,
it's very important.
Well...
I shall try.
- Is she asleep?
- Yes, she's in her chamber.
Let's go.
Sit at her bed-side.
Look at her face.
Now close your eyes.
Concentrate.
Now you will see her dream.
What do you feel?
A light.
A bright blinding light...
Ladies and gentlemen!
Welcome to our
"Miss Bust of CIS" pageant!
This is your hour, oh
tits and boobs!
Please meet our jury.
The chairman -
member of Ethics Committee,
Doctor of Arts Eduard Potemkin.
The jurors:
a popular businessman
Igor Beck.
An American businessman and
democrat John Smith.
Chairman of 'Peace for Children'
Association,
a satirist Efim Alperevich.
Director General of oil
company
'Tymenneftegazstroi'
Rafil Gizatulin.
Our General Sponsor -
Mister Myshkin.
And I'm pleased to announce
a jazz-orchestra
of the Bundeswehr's
Division 7
conducted by Hermann Mayer.
And the hype
CIS rock-band -
Rusty Nails!
But before our first
contestant
appears before the jury,
I would like to announce
the preacher of
evangelical church
from Minnesota -
Father Braun.
Dear sisters and brethren!
I used to be a nasty child.
I smoked, I drank gin and tonic,
I stole things and
masturbated.
I was a big disappointment
to my parents.
Once, after having yet
another bottle of gin,
I was watching the TV.
Suddenly the anchor addressed
me: 'Stop it, Bob!
'Stop it before it's too late!'
And I saw it was not an
anchor but God Himself
telling me what my regressions
were fraught with.
Sisters and brethren,
Hallelujah to our Lord
and to his son Jesus!
I'm glad to announce
that to every contestant
Father Braun presents
a Bible and a bottle
of California wine!
Sisters and Brethren!
Enough, enough!
Ladies and gentlemen!
Let us begin.
I invite contestant
number one...
Maria Stepanova, Russia!
- Hi.
- Hi.
Are you a student
or you have a job?
I work at a canteen and I'm an
external student at an institute.
Dear Masha, your bust
represents Russia.
- You feel the responsibility?
- Of course.
I wish to win in this pageant.
And, while other girls
can't hear us...
- You afraid others can score?
- No.
But I think the world of the busts
from Moldova and Tajikistan.
Me too.
All monies raised
from this contest
will go to building
Christ Our Savior Cathedral.
Anyone who pays
the biggest premium
will be entitled to imprint
a kiss on the contestant's bust.
Who wants to kiss
Ìaria Stepanova?
- 1 thousand rubles is bid!
- 1 thousand 500!
- Any advance on 1500?
- 2 thousand!
2 thousand! 2 thousand - one!
- 2 thousand 900!
- 2 thousand 900...
- 2 thousand 900 - one!
- 15 thousand!
15 thousand - one!
15 thousand - two!
15 thousand - three!
Cheers to the winner!
Gentleman who mentioned 15 thou,
please join us.
Give him a round of applause!
A mysterious Mister X.
Will you tell us your name?
Semen Borisovich!
Yes, it's me!
What zeal!
Enough, young man.
Countess, wake up!
Oh, Count!
Oh my God. And again
I had a nightmare.
Calm down, darling.
What did you see?
I saw in my dream
I was at a pageant...
a pageant...
Of tits and boobs?
My God, it was horrible!
Is this the future?
I'm sorry.
And there is no deliverance?
I don't know.
Your Majesty!
Esteemed gentlemen!
The future of Russia
is dark and gloomy.
Suppose there is a person
who sees the future 100 years
away from him?
What is it that he'll see?
Total degradation,
collapse of the great empire,
impoverishment of people
scouting like wild beasts
for crumbs of bread...
total idiocy...
What is he speaking about?
For hapless Russian women
the most prestigious situation
would be to become a prostitute.
Yes, gentlemen.
A prostitute who will offer
her body not for rubles
but for marks or dollars.
But why not for rubles?
Who needs that wooden money?
Ruble will become
cheap as paper.
- What?
- Excuse me:
why such grim visions
stirring your imagination?
Because, Your Majesty,
if we don't make reforms
in our society...
If we don't do this
reasonably,
under the supervision
of our tsar,
then all latent schisms
will lead to upheaval,
a revolution.
Which will mean chaos
and confusion.
And what, in your mind, reforms
should be made?
Lnd should belong
to peasants,
factories and plants
should be run by workers.
He is a socialist!
Lower classes should be
entitled
to take part in running
the state.
I'm a patriot of Russia!
Count, you produced
quite a scandal!
Your resignation
is in all papers.
They are blind!
They will ruin Russia!
What are you going to do?
I don't know.
Count!
My dear Count.
Let's go to the countryside.
Imagine:
the woods... the fields...
a river...
It's long time since we
tarried in our estate.
Maybe there I will stop
seeing bad dreams!
Sweet home.
Count! Blizzard!
My doggie...
Stepanova...
Are you sleeping?
Stepanova.
Go and pick the dishes,
we are closing up.
Stepanova. I bought me
a dacha.
Congratulations.
A good one?
Yes.
It's an old house, but
I will overhaul it.
It will be a palace
of a dacha.
You wanna go and
have a look?
- You'll start pawing me again?
- No, I swear.
Okay.
Here is my dacha.
- Who lived here before?
- It was a TB sanatorium.
I will trim it with planks.
I will change the roofing.
Slavka promised to bring
50 sheets of Gl.
Here I will build a fireplace.
That parasite Slavka,
so negligent...
Starring:
Oleg BASILASHVILI
as Count Prizorov
Lyudmila MORDVINOVA
as Masha Stepanova
Armen DJIGHARKHANYAN
as the Doctor
Arnold IDIS
as the Accountant
Written by
Alexander BORODYANSKY
Karen SHAKHNAZAROV
Directed by
Karen SHAKHNAZAROV
Alexander BORODYANSKY
Director of Photography
Boris BROZHOVSKY
Production Designer
Leonid SVINTSITSKY
Music by
Anatoly KROLL
Sound by
I. MAYOROV
Edited by: L. MILIOTI
N. KOZHEMYAKINA
Costume Designer:
V. ROMANOVA, A. OLENEVA
Make-up by
K. GAMEL, M. TCHIGLYAKOVA
Translated by
Svetlana Kormashova
COURIER Studios
Film Committee, Russia
In collaboration with
SLOVO Studios
a Karen SHAKHNAZAROV and
Alexander BORODYANSKY production
Oleg BASILASHVILI
Lyudmila MORDVINOVA
in
D R E A M S
What is worrying you, Countess?
A dream, Doctor.
I'm haunted by one and
the same dream.
That I am working in Moscow,
in 1993,
at a canteen number nine.
A canteen? What is a canteen?
It's like a cafe, only it is
dirty and full of drunkards.
Ah, it's a tavern then.
And what are you doing there?
I'm a dish-washer.
A quota worker
Masha Stepanova.
I'm twenty, I live
in a dormitory.
Can you recount any details
of that dream of yours?
We've been robbed of 4 kilos
of sugar.
Semen Borisovich hid it
in a strongbox.
But the sugar disappeared.
Who is Semen Borisovich?
Semen Borisovich is our
accountant.
A disgusting personality.
Making advances at me.
There's also another repelling
type, in a coat.
He's drunken all the time
and wants me as his mistress.
They say he's a tough guy.
What is 'tough'?
Tough means... Well, a brigand.
He is going around in a big
car, with hookers.
A what?
Hookers - harlots who earn
dollars, francs. Never rubles.
- Why not taking rubles?
- Who needs that wooden money!
Well...
Countess, you've
a venus destroginus.
Nervous overstrain.
I would recommend a spa
in the Crimea.
That's to where I'm going
with my husband.
Well,
my regards to your husband.
- To the dressmaker's!
- Yes, Madame.
What do you think?
Wonderful. This dress
fits you exquisitely.
Thank you, Mr. Schtockman.
Could you send it to me
not later than 11 in the morning?
Of course.
And what is this dress?
This is a dress of
Countess Polonskaya.
What? Varya Polonskaya?
Why didn't you offer me
smth like this?
She received this cut from
Mons. Richard in Versailles.
You mean she'll wear it
at tomorrow's ball?
I think so.
Dimitry!
Dimitry!
What happened, Countess?
Count! I positively can't
appear at tomorrow's ball!
But the ball is given in
honour of the grand duke.
Not to be there means
disrespect towards the Court.
But my ugly attire
will be outshined
by the splendour
of countess Polonskaya!
This is more than I can stand!
What are you talking about?
I saw her dress she is going
to wear tomorrow.
Now I see.
My dear countess!
You are a diamond
beyond any setting!
Stepan, I want my coffee to
finish my report to His Majesty.
Moscow Radio.
'Dialogue-Optim'
company -
money transfers
from Russia to CIS countries.
Maybe the mice ate it,
Semen Borisovich?
The mice? How could the mice
open a safe?
Why putting sugar in a safe?
Everyone goes in for
stealing today!
Wow, 4 kilos of sugar!
If no one returns the sugar
by 12 o'clock, I'll file
a complaint.
Go on working.
Stepanova, wait.
Stepanova, do you fancy
for a video film?
Nope.
Come on, let's go and
have some cognac.
Come on...
- I'm not going anywhere.
- You silly, I love you!
Hey, come over here.
Do you want to appear
in a film?
- What kind of film?
- About the coup.
Our sponsors
is a British company.
A political thriller.
- What role will I play?
- The leading one.
Our heroine, a university
student,
a White House defendant.
She has a mission from
President to reconnoiter
and to find out the time
of White House besiege.
General Rastorguev, a sworn
Communist,
can give her the X-hour
if she has sex with him.
But she is a virgin:
her wooer - a student-democrat
from philology faculty.
For the sake of democracy
she agrees to have sex
with that coup fiend.
Okay?
- Okay.
- Let's go to the movie set!
Eltsin! Eltsin!
Comrades, any volunteers
for a risky mission?
- Any volunteers?
- Me!
What a wonderful young
generation, Oleg!
- Which one shall we pick out?
- That girl.
- I think she'll do.
- What is your name?
My name is Masha Stepanova.
President sends you
as a scout to Division 48.
You must find out
when they are planning
to attack The White House.
Come back not later
than tomorrow morning.
Remember: the fate of democracy
is in your hands!
Wait! Who is that?
I must see the Commander.
Hawk to Falcon.
A pretty girl
wants to see the Commander.
Let her through.
You want to know when we gonna
attack The White House?
Yes, General.
Semen Borisovich?
I'm not Semen Borisovich.
But you are an accountant
from our canteen!
I'm anything but
an accountant!
I'm General Rastorguev,
Commander
of Assault Division 48.
- Shall I serve the tea?
- No!
Gee, you look so sweet in
that mini-skirt of yours!
Okay, I'll disclose
X-hour to you
only if you have sex with me.
Not in your life!
Not even for the sake
of democracy?
- You will be mine!
- Never!
- I've got you!
- Let go!
I'll show you what is what!
Let go, you darned
communist!
What's wrong?
A bad dream?
Yes: Semen Borisovich tried
to seduce me!
- What Semen Borisovich?
- Accountant from our canteen.
Accountant? Canteen?
What are you talking about?
About my dream, Count.
I was on my way
to The White House
to tell President there'd
be no storming.
- But Semen Borisovich...
- Did you see the doctor?
He prescribed me a spa
in the Crimea.
Fine. And, I own it,
the sooner - the better.
After I appear with my report
before the State Council,
we'll go to the Crimea.
A dress
from Mister Schtockman.
Aha, that very dress.
Pray, show it to me.
But it's wonderful!
Because you didn't see
Polonskaya's dress!
Parasha, I want my coffee
to finish my report
to His Majesty.
Parasha! Give me that dress.
You know what, Parasha...
Give me scissors.
- Scissors?
- Yes.
Count and Countess Polonsky!
Polonskaya is charming today.
She will be a favourite
of this ball.
Let us wait for Countess
Prizorova to rival her.
Count and Countess Prizorov!
You produced quite a sensation.
Look at Polonskaya.
She is going to swoon.
May I pay my humble respects
to you, Your Majesty!
Yes, it's a real scandal.
A scandal it is, Doctor.
Imagine: the grand duke and
his wife and the Court:
and my wife wearing
that skirt!
What went into her head?
She's wearing skirts like this
in her dreams.
- Those bizarre dreams.
- Exceedingly bizarre.
Imagine: last night she saw
me in her dream.
- You know what I was doing?
- What?
Peddling porno shots
in Arbat street.
Yes, Doctor.
A model being my wife, in most
indecent stances.
I push off that dirty material
in Arbat street, 500 rubles
per one photo.
Why on earth you doing this,
Your Excellency?
To make both ends meet:
I'm a pensioner.
The prices are unbelievable!
Bread is 43 rubles!
- Per one pound?
- Per one loaf!
Ostankino sausage, not quite
fresh, 1750 rubles per kilo.
Eggs - 352 rubles
per dozen.
Oh, I'm sorry. I seem not
to be well myself.
This situation is telling
on my nerves.
Yes, how bizarre.
Indeed.
Very well, I will give you
a medicine.
It's the newest development,
sent by Professor Zolenberg
from Berlin.
He is a very nice person!
It will relieve the countess
from her nightmares.
Two tea-spoonfuls before
going to bed.
- Thank you, Doctor.
- Be in touch.
Your hip!
The curve!
Smile!
Smile!
Make it more sexy.
Even more sexy!
And more sexy.
What's wrong?
I can't.
You want me to die
from starvation?
No, but I can't pose
nude any more.
Blimey!
Hey, your every photo
fetches 500 rubles.
We pull through thanks to you.
And damn those reformers.
You drink gorgeous Scotch
and expensive cigars!
You don't want me to drink that
hogwash that you bought?
You said the photos were
for California fashion magazine,
but instead you selling them
at Arbat.
I've sent them to California.
Waiting for a reply.
That must be the landlords.
I'm not home.
- Can I help you?
- It's about an ad.
- What ad?
- In 'Moskovsky komsomolets'.
'A bisexual guy would meet
a well-off sponsor for a partner,
'or a girl with whimsical
inclinations.
'Reward wanted in currency.'
- It's a mistake.
- But it's your address.
Some blah-blah-sexual placed
an ad with our address!
- So, it's a mistake then.
- No, come on in.
You're welcome.
- A minus or a plus?
- A plus.
I'm a minus. Do you have
hard currency on you?
No, I pay in rubles,
at the exchange rate.
It's written there in plain
Russian: 'Hard currency.'
I pay 1200.
No, Sir, no wooden money.
Get lost!
What a cheek!
- What a swindler!
- Count, are you nuts?
Mashenka, privation drove
me to this.
Our government giving
pensioners to the dogs!
Make some dinner, I must
go to work.
Money, Deutch marks, dollars.
Porno!
- How much?
- Five hundred.
- For this?
- Take it or leave it.
Okay, I'll take this
for one dollar.
May I have a look.
- What a pretty girl! How much?
- Five hundred.
Very charming.
She'd look nice
as one of our government.
- Who are you, guys?
- We are MPs.
Promenading here.
Looking for a new
Minister of the Economy.
- A young woman with looks.
- She's what you need.
Yeah. A very nice girl.
- Could we speak to her?
- We live around the corner.
- Our limousine is a step away.
- Let's go.
I won't make it. I'm
a simple dishwasher.
We are not academicians,
but we handle our jobs.
- Some wine?
- Why not.
But why me?
A task of the Minister
of the Economy -
to get credits
from the West.
Something only a pretty girl
with looks can do.
- You know what bankers are like.
- Oh, yes.
Cheers!
Care for another glassful?
No, we must go. We've a date
with President.
Please meet our new Minister
of the Economy.
Any objections or questions?
No, let her work.
- The Supreme Council...
- They'll approve.
The Supreme Council
should be kicked out!
Hush, Eduard.
- Any questions to Stepanova?
- No.
Let her work.
Congratulations,
Comrade Stepanova!
What else do we have
on the agenda?
The Ukrainians making
the fur fly.
What do they want?
They grudge us their sugar.
- Why?
- Just because.
Smart ones!
What do we do, comrades?
We should send a wire
that they send us sugar.
Right.
We'll send them a wire.
Right!
What else?
Tomorrow Baron Dominique
arrives,
a spokesperson from IMF,
That's very important.
What can we do
to wring big money from them?
That baron is such a fox!
I was negotiating with him
in Paris.
It'll be a job to make him
cough it up.
For this we have
our new Minister of the Economy.
Comrade Stepanova,
you must do your best
to make them give as much
money as possible.
- Is that all?
- There's a wire from Kazan.
To the effect?..
They want to play football
with us.
MP team versus MP team.
That's a pretty cake!
- On whose turf?
- They didn't say.
What shall we do?
They'll beat us. Tatars
are big lugs.
What shall we do?
Let guys from the Supreme
Soviet play with them.
Right, Eduard: let guys from
the Supreme Soviet carry the can.
May I introduce myself.
Chief of security,
Major Panteleeva.
Stepanova. My husband,
Count Prizorov.
Please.
Nice bread.
Bread-and-salt.
Your dining room.
Your sitting room.
Your hotline.
The study and bedroom
are upstairs.
Do you have a river here?
A swimming pool.
If you need me...
Push this red button here.
What a handsome place.
The government did everything
you could fruitfully work.
Things mundane is not
what I care for.
I must live up to President's
expectations,
I must save our country
from this big crisis.
- Absolutely.
- May I?
You must be our new Minister of
the Economy Miss Stepanova?
Right.
We live next door.
Deputy Defense Minister
General Klochkov.
His dacha is on the left
side from yours.
Minister of agriculture.
Ivan Kurochkin. His dacha
is on the right side.
Minister of Culture.
Bruskov-Bukeev. My dacha
is behind yours.
Glad to meet you. My husband,
Count Prizorov.
- How do you do.
- How do you do.
We were just passing by
and decided to
look in on you.
Right. Come on in.
- Care for a drink, comrades?
- Gin and tonic.
- Some Scotch.
- Vodka.
- What about you, Count?
- I would have some cognac.
A glassful of dry wine.
Let us drink to renovation
of our Russia!
Yes!
Help yourselves.
In pre-revolution times
Russia
was the second largest
country in pig farming.
Now pig farming
is in doldrums...
...because we have nothing
to feed pigs with.
Come credits from the West,
we could buy grain,
we could feed pigs thus
increasing pig head status.
And our people will be filled.
Provided people are filled,
they can work well.
Those who work well -
live well.
Those who live well
feel happy.
Instead of drinking vodka -
they'd go to museums, theatres.
They grow civilized. Which means
higher standards of culture.
If there are higher
standards of culture,
we have less hooligans
loafing about the streets.
Now we run short
of civilized people.
Hence - vodka-drinking.
And even making moonshine.
And even brawling in the street.
And stealing what comes their way.
All this is due
to the lack of culture.
But if we get credits from
the West,
we can boost our culture.
We can boost the number
of civilized people.
So, at any rate,
we need their credits badly.
We can only hope
on Stepanova here.
We're broadcasting from
Vnukovo airport.
Any minute now a plane
will arrive
with IMF spokesperson
Baron Dominique on board.
He will negotiate with Minister
of the Economy Stepanova.
What do you expect from
the pending negotiations?
We expect to get
the highest credits
at the lowest interest.
Well, good luck to you.
Aha, I will get ye!
Baron, we would like
to know
what credits
do you have in mind?
Zero. No credits until
you pay old ones.
We can't pay old credits with
no new ones coming.
I don't care how you pay them.
We'll never have enough for you.
And we have no money either.
That's a pretty thing:
everyone is moneyless.
But where is the money?
Where did it go?
I don't know.
Very well.
Another drop of that dew?
Enough.
Very well.
We need to make a call.
What do we do? They've
no money.
And you believed! They are
wallowing in money.
- What do we do then?
- You must flirt with him.
- He is so impressive.
- He won't look at me.
'cause you sit like a dummy!
Give him a wink,
flash a knee, slide open
a button..
- And he'll swallow the bait.
- And if not?
Then we'll defame him
for sexual abuse.
What?
I'll bring musicians and you'll
invite him for a dance.
When he gets horny
invite him to your room.
When he steps in - take off
your clothes and scream:
'He's raping me!' -
and I'll come with a camera.
And he'll have to choose between
those photos and credits.
What a base thing to do!
But we're doing this for
the sake of our country.
Come on.
Did you make your call?
Yes.
Where is the count?
He...
He went home:
his mom fell ill.
Now we are alone.
Shall we dance?
I go crazy from Russian women.
What about going upstairs.
Here is the key.
I'll buy some wine
and join you.
Semen Borisovich?
There you are!
Let go!
You bitch! Wait!
I'll get you!
You dirty hooker!
Wait, you viper!
I'll get you!
Now you won't get away.
I'll show you what is what!
Stop jerking!
You could at least offer
me some bubbles.
At last you talking sense.
Instead of playing
hard-to-get...
Let's go and toss of
a drink.
Won't I give it you hot and
strong, Stepanova!
Just you wait, you cheap
hooker!
- You're asking for it!
- Help!
Help! He's raping me!
Now we have him on the hook.
Damn! Who is he?
Semen Borisovich,
our accountant...
...What happened then?
According to the countess,
it was a big scandal.
Our mass media, as usual,
made that bomb go up
and the countess was
made to resign.
Doctor, relieve me from
this hell!
Calm down, my dear.
Calm down.
Count, may I talk with you
in private.
Excuse us, Countess.
Doctor, truly, it's
very disquieting -
those nightmares my
wife has.
Of course. Pray, Count,
tell me:
haven't you noticed anything
strange about your wife?
What do you mean?
That accountant in her dreams -
with a mania to snare
her body...
Oh no. Believe me,
the countess is far
from being an abnormal woman.
But those photos, those
indecent stances...
Have you ever gone
in for photography?
What are you driving at?
I mean this little
mischievous habit
of keeping magazines with
frivolous pictures -
have you ever had
a fancy for ones?
God forbid, I've never
had such magazines!
Why are you asking?
Because dreams are not
our incoherent fantasy.
Dreams only reflect
the surrounding reality.
And there is one thing...
which worries me.
In life I don't see
any motivation
of what the countess
sees in her dreams...
I don't quite understand
you, Doctor.
The fact she sees you
in her dreams
selling in the street
most unhandsome photos...
Maybe she has some grounds
for this?...
- That is too much, Doctor!
- But scientists say...
Please spare me this
talk of yours!
Well...
The more I get convinced
it's a most unusual case.
And I have an opinion
of my own here.
But I would like Monsieur
Renoir to step in.
Who is Monsieur Renoir?
He is an outstanding
interpreter
of dreams and visions,
an honorary member
of many an academy.
Let us not linger then.
Monsieur Renoir is expecting us.
Shall we start?
Take off your hat.
Don't be afraid.
Try to do what I will
tell you.
Now you will sleep.
Close your eyes...
Close your eyes...
You are sleeping.
Now you are going to sleep.
You're seeing dreams...
What do you see?
Take your hands off my bum,
you dirty fuzz!
Very good!
What did she say?
Hush. What else can you see?
You gimme the kicks, Lyokha!
Lekha, without you
I feel blue!
My heart goes clink,
and it's true!
What is that?
Monsters of rock
love peace!!
What?
I'm a sexy girl Masha Stepanova!
Who wants me, boys?
Most amazing!
He's an accountant,
oh, boy!
Gimme a piece of joy!
What is she dreaming about?
Our bash going on!
Dima Prizorov is one of us!
Who?...
Dima Prizorov!
People, I'm here!
Do like me!
Who wants me, girls?
You're my Hannibal-girl,
you will come to my house,
I will do it three times,
I will tear your mouth.
In what you left in my bed
I will drown.
Baby, I wanna go downtown.
But there's a trap at the door,
I can leave nevermore.
But one day you will step
baby, in your own trap.
Now you give me no chance
and a cancan you dance.
And your leash
is the band from my pants.
You freaked out,
you hid out of whack...
- But you'll come back...
- Stop!
Wake up!
Wake up!
- Darling!
- Calm down.
Calm down.
What a distress.
I want your attention,
gentlemen.
Gentlemen, I'm quite
positive
that what we have
is a very singular case.
The countess, in her dreams,
lives in the year 1993.
- 100 years hereafter.
- Clairvoyance?
In some way yes.
Though, some people can be
aware of their clairvoyance.
Back in the 16th century
Nostradamus predicted Napoleon.
But some people possess this
gift only in their sleep.
And their dreams reflect not
contemporaneous reality,
but reality which is due
in 100 or 200 years.
Scientists know such cases.
Say, the Righteous...
- Excuse me, Monsieur...
- Renoir.
Monsieur Renoir, this is
all horse's feathers.
There can't be such reality
even in 1000 years.
But, alas...
'Dirty fuzz'...
'You gimme the kicks'...
You call this reality?
Count, one hundred years is
a big span of time.
Thank you very much,
gentlemen.
Thank you.
Darling, what kind of country
is that?
What?
What is that country
you see in your dreams?
- CIS.
- What is that?
I don't know.
Neither do they.
But do they have
a government?
They have umpteen governments.
But there should be a government
to run the country.
- Do they have a tsar?
- They do without one.
- Where did the tsar go?
- I don't know.
They have had no tsar since
the Revolution.
So, it's Democratic Republic
then, like in France?
I don't know. They don't
know either.
But any state should
have a structure.
- Do they have any order?
- None.
How can such a power
exist without order?
But it exists.
Your Excellency, he's come.
Show him in.
Sorry for summoning you
at such a late hour.
But this is an urgent matter.
I'm at your service.
Monsieur Renoir...
Is it possible
for me to see the dreams
of my wife?
That would be quite a problem.
Monsieur Renoir,
it's very important.
Well...
I shall try.
- Is she asleep?
- Yes, she's in her chamber.
Let's go.
Sit at her bed-side.
Look at her face.
Now close your eyes.
Concentrate.
Now you will see her dream.
What do you feel?
A light.
A bright blinding light...
Ladies and gentlemen!
Welcome to our
"Miss Bust of CIS" pageant!
This is your hour, oh
tits and boobs!
Please meet our jury.
The chairman -
member of Ethics Committee,
Doctor of Arts Eduard Potemkin.
The jurors:
a popular businessman
Igor Beck.
An American businessman and
democrat John Smith.
Chairman of 'Peace for Children'
Association,
a satirist Efim Alperevich.
Director General of oil
company
'Tymenneftegazstroi'
Rafil Gizatulin.
Our General Sponsor -
Mister Myshkin.
And I'm pleased to announce
a jazz-orchestra
of the Bundeswehr's
Division 7
conducted by Hermann Mayer.
And the hype
CIS rock-band -
Rusty Nails!
But before our first
contestant
appears before the jury,
I would like to announce
the preacher of
evangelical church
from Minnesota -
Father Braun.
Dear sisters and brethren!
I used to be a nasty child.
I smoked, I drank gin and tonic,
I stole things and
masturbated.
I was a big disappointment
to my parents.
Once, after having yet
another bottle of gin,
I was watching the TV.
Suddenly the anchor addressed
me: 'Stop it, Bob!
'Stop it before it's too late!'
And I saw it was not an
anchor but God Himself
telling me what my regressions
were fraught with.
Sisters and brethren,
Hallelujah to our Lord
and to his son Jesus!
I'm glad to announce
that to every contestant
Father Braun presents
a Bible and a bottle
of California wine!
Sisters and Brethren!
Enough, enough!
Ladies and gentlemen!
Let us begin.
I invite contestant
number one...
Maria Stepanova, Russia!
- Hi.
- Hi.
Are you a student
or you have a job?
I work at a canteen and I'm an
external student at an institute.
Dear Masha, your bust
represents Russia.
- You feel the responsibility?
- Of course.
I wish to win in this pageant.
And, while other girls
can't hear us...
- You afraid others can score?
- No.
But I think the world of the busts
from Moldova and Tajikistan.
Me too.
All monies raised
from this contest
will go to building
Christ Our Savior Cathedral.
Anyone who pays
the biggest premium
will be entitled to imprint
a kiss on the contestant's bust.
Who wants to kiss
Ìaria Stepanova?
- 1 thousand rubles is bid!
- 1 thousand 500!
- Any advance on 1500?
- 2 thousand!
2 thousand! 2 thousand - one!
- 2 thousand 900!
- 2 thousand 900...
- 2 thousand 900 - one!
- 15 thousand!
15 thousand - one!
15 thousand - two!
15 thousand - three!
Cheers to the winner!
Gentleman who mentioned 15 thou,
please join us.
Give him a round of applause!
A mysterious Mister X.
Will you tell us your name?
Semen Borisovich!
Yes, it's me!
What zeal!
Enough, young man.
Countess, wake up!
Oh, Count!
Oh my God. And again
I had a nightmare.
Calm down, darling.
What did you see?
I saw in my dream
I was at a pageant...
a pageant...
Of tits and boobs?
My God, it was horrible!
Is this the future?
I'm sorry.
And there is no deliverance?
I don't know.
Your Majesty!
Esteemed gentlemen!
The future of Russia
is dark and gloomy.
Suppose there is a person
who sees the future 100 years
away from him?
What is it that he'll see?
Total degradation,
collapse of the great empire,
impoverishment of people
scouting like wild beasts
for crumbs of bread...
total idiocy...
What is he speaking about?
For hapless Russian women
the most prestigious situation
would be to become a prostitute.
Yes, gentlemen.
A prostitute who will offer
her body not for rubles
but for marks or dollars.
But why not for rubles?
Who needs that wooden money?
Ruble will become
cheap as paper.
- What?
- Excuse me:
why such grim visions
stirring your imagination?
Because, Your Majesty,
if we don't make reforms
in our society...
If we don't do this
reasonably,
under the supervision
of our tsar,
then all latent schisms
will lead to upheaval,
a revolution.
Which will mean chaos
and confusion.
And what, in your mind, reforms
should be made?
Lnd should belong
to peasants,
factories and plants
should be run by workers.
He is a socialist!
Lower classes should be
entitled
to take part in running
the state.
I'm a patriot of Russia!
Count, you produced
quite a scandal!
Your resignation
is in all papers.
They are blind!
They will ruin Russia!
What are you going to do?
I don't know.
Count!
My dear Count.
Let's go to the countryside.
Imagine:
the woods... the fields...
a river...
It's long time since we
tarried in our estate.
Maybe there I will stop
seeing bad dreams!
Sweet home.
Count! Blizzard!
My doggie...
Stepanova...
Are you sleeping?
Stepanova.
Go and pick the dishes,
we are closing up.
Stepanova. I bought me
a dacha.
Congratulations.
A good one?
Yes.
It's an old house, but
I will overhaul it.
It will be a palace
of a dacha.
You wanna go and
have a look?
- You'll start pawing me again?
- No, I swear.
Okay.
Here is my dacha.
- Who lived here before?
- It was a TB sanatorium.
I will trim it with planks.
I will change the roofing.
Slavka promised to bring
50 sheets of Gl.
Here I will build a fireplace.
That parasite Slavka,
so negligent...
Starring:
Oleg BASILASHVILI
as Count Prizorov
Lyudmila MORDVINOVA
as Masha Stepanova
Armen DJIGHARKHANYAN
as the Doctor
Arnold IDIS
as the Accountant
Written by
Alexander BORODYANSKY
Karen SHAKHNAZAROV
Directed by
Karen SHAKHNAZAROV
Alexander BORODYANSKY
Director of Photography
Boris BROZHOVSKY
Production Designer
Leonid SVINTSITSKY
Music by
Anatoly KROLL
Sound by
I. MAYOROV
Edited by: L. MILIOTI
N. KOZHEMYAKINA
Costume Designer:
V. ROMANOVA, A. OLENEVA
Make-up by
K. GAMEL, M. TCHIGLYAKOVA
Translated by
Svetlana Kormashova