Doctor Zhivago (1965) - full transcript

What are they like, these girls?

They're very good.

Bit wild.

Spend their money quickly, work hard.

- Are they literate?
- Some of them.

In and out of reformatories since being
picked up. Jobs like this. It's degrading.

You shouldn't use human
beings to move earth.

- No.
- And it's not efficient.

If they'd give me two more
excavators; I'd be a year ahead.

You're an impatient generation.

- Weren't you?
- Yes, we were.



Very.

Don't be too impatient, Comrade Engineer.
We've come very far, very fast.

I know, Comrade General.

Yes, but do you know what it cost?

There were children in those days
who lived off human flesh.

Did you know that?

What is your interest in this girl,
Comrade General?

She may be my brother's child.

- Yuri Andreyevich?
- Yes.

My half brother, I should say.

If she is, she's also Lara's child.

The Lara?

The Lara, yes.

This is...



...a new edition
of the Lara poems.

Yes, I know.

- We admire your brother very much.
- Yes. Everybody seems to, now.

We couldn't admire him when
we weren't allowed to read him.

No.

Come in.

I sent for you, comrade.

You're not in any trouble.

I'm General Yevgraf
Andreyevich Zhivago.

I'm looking for someone.

Do you understand?

The person I'm looking for
would be my niece.

Please sit down.

Your name is...?

Tonya Komarov, Comrade General.

They found you in Mongolia?

- Yes, Comrade General.
- What were you doing there?

- I was lost, Comrade General.
- How did you come to be lost?

- I've forgotten.
- Was Komarovsky your father's name?

I suppose so, Comrade General.

You suppose so?

It's a common name.

Do you remember your father?

No.

Do you remember your mother?

Yes, I remember my mother.

- What was her name?
- Mummy.

What was she like?

I mean, what did she look like?

Big.

Big?

I was little. She looked big.

- Can you read?
- Yes.

"Lara: A Cycle of Poems
by Y.A. Zhivago."

Not me. My half brother.

The person I'm looking for...

...would be this man's daughter.

This would be her mother.

"Lara."

Did anybody ever
call your mother Lara?

I don't know.

I don't think so.

She's nice.

I'm not your niece, Comrade General.

I'm nobody's idea of an uncle.

But if this man were my father,
I should want to know.

Did your mother ever tell you
your father was a poet?

Comrade General,
my father wasn't a poet.

What was your father?

Not a poet.

Did you like your father?

I've forgotten.

But you liked your mother.

Yes, of course.

Does the name Strelnikov mean
anything to you? Strelnikov?

Varykino?

That's a place, not a person.

- Gromeko?
- Gromeko.

Yes.

You see...

he lost his mother...

at about the same age you were...

when your mother...

lost you.

And in the same part of the world.

"Now is life's artful triumph
of vanities destroyed...

for the spirit has vanished
from its tabernacle.

Its clay groweth black.

The vessel is shattered,
voiceless, emotionless...

dead. Committing
which unto the grave..."

Yuri!

You and your husband will dine
with us, Madame Gromeko.

Thank you, Father.

Will you lie down then, Yuri?

Your mummy and I were
great, great friends, you know.

So now we are going to look after you.

Thank you.

That's Mother's!

It's yours now.

Yes, Yuri, Mummy left it to you.

In her will.

Do you know what a will is, old chap?

Money.

No, Yuri, just this.

Your daddy has all...

Can you play it?

Thought all the people here
could play the balalaika.

You don't live here, do you?

No, we live in Moscow.

That's a long way from here.
But you'll like Moscow.

- Won't he?
- In a bit.

Takes time to get used
to things, doesn't it?

Mother could play it.

Well, your mother was an artist, Yuri.

She could make this common little
instrument sound like two guitars.

Your mother had a gift.

Perhaps Yuri's got a gift.

Would you like lessons?

I can't play it.

Say good night to Yuri, Tonya.

He's your brother now.

Good night, Yuri.

- Good night, old chap.
- Good night.

The Gromekos didn't know
what to make of him.

He made his reputation as a poet
while he was studying to be a doctor.

He said that poetry was no more
a vocation than good health.

What he needed was a job.

Pretty?

Very.

It's their right to be pretty.

- What do you do next year, Zhivago?
- I thought of general practice.

Think about doing pure research.

It's exciting, important.
Can be beautiful.

General practice.

Life. He wants to see life.

Well, you'll find that pretty creatures
do ugly things to people.

What's your name?

- Antipov.
- Address?

15 Petrovka.

- I'll have these.
- We have permission from the police.

Yes? Well, you claim them
at the station.

- When?
- Now, if you like.

- Very well.
- Pasha! He's my brother.

Well, take him home, miss.

Before he gets into trouble.

Pasha, please.

It's got to be done.

Pasha, why has it got to be done?

For them. For the Revolution.

Pasha, they don't want a revolution.

They do. They don't know it yet,
but that's what they want.

Give me some of those, comrade.

Pasha?

Are you a Bolshevik?

No, the Bolsheviks don't like me,
and I don't like them.

They don't know right from wrong.

Pasha Antipov, you're an awful prig.

Why did you tell him
I was your brother?

What else could I have told him?

You could've told him
I was your fiancé.

Pasha, don't be silly. I'm...

Monsieur Komarovsky has come
to see my mother on business.

People gossip round here.

It's the system, Lara.

People will be different
after the Revolution.

Will you come?

No, Pasha.

I've got exams to take, Pasha.
I've got to get my scholarship.

Hello, Auntie.

There's a letter for you.

From Paris.

- Lovely writing.
- Lovely. She's coming home next month.

Tonya? Oh, that's good.

He does seem
to be very well-informed.

And such a handsome figure of a...

Good evening, maman.

- Madame.
- Larissa.

You can work in there, dear.
Monsieur Komarovsky's here.

Good evening, Larissa.

Good evening, monsieur.

He advises some very important people.

Yes, I know.

I believe he has government connections.

I don't know, I'm sure.

Isn't he very expensive?

Monsieur Komarovsky advises me
out of kindness, baroness.

He was a friend of my late husband's.

- Oh, I see.
- Allow me.

Tuesday, if I can, my dear. Bye.

Where did you get this?

Friend gave it to me, monsieur.

You're not to go to this
"peaceful" demonstration.

- No, monsieur.
- May not be as peaceful as they think.

That's all I have to say.
Tell your friend she's a silly creature.

Yes, monsieur.

How old are you now?

Seventeen, monsieur.

Hundred and three.

Oh, dear. And I was
so looking forward to it.

Oh, never mind.
I'll be all right here.

You will take Lara, won't you,
Victor Ippolitovich?

So stupid of me.
It's her first long gown...

- I think you'd better call it right off.
- Yes, I'll stay with you.

Nonsense, I'll be perfectly
all right. I've got a book.

So disappointing for her,
Victor Ippolitovich.

There's so little opportunity
to mix with good society.

Very well, get your coat.

We're late, if we're going.
I want to avoid Kropotkin Street.

"Brotherhood and freedom."
Yuri, what splendid words.

"Justice, equality and bread."

Don't you think they're splendid?

Yes, I do.

"Brotherhood and freedom."

Brotherhood and fiddlesticks,
you're frozen through.

You've no right, Anushka.
It isn't fair.

Ah! We'd given you up, monsieur.

My niece. Coat, Lara?

Come, my dear.

How's the foie de veau Gascogne?

As always, monsieur.

- All right, not too much...
- Not too much mustard, monsieur.

Oui, mademoiselle.

- Wine, monsieur?
- A little light wine, yes.

Oui, monsieur. Mademoiselle?

This place must be dreadfully expensive,
Monsieur Komarovsky.

It is. Why not "Victor Ippolitovich"?

I can't.

Mother made this dress.

Very nice.

She's clever, isn't she?

Your mother? Yes. Fine little woman.

No doubt they'll sing in tune
after the Revolution.

Prepare!

Mount!

Draw sabers.

Charge!

Mama!

What, what...?

What?

Good night, dear.

Good night, Victor Ippolitovich.

Go inside your houses, please.

All these people will be taken care of.
Go inside, please.

All these people will be taken care of.
Go inside, please.

Get inside.

Yuri, please. No trouble.

Take him inside,
or I'll put him under arrest.

Yuri, I beg you.
Tonya's coming home tomorrow.

Yuri!

Tonya!

Yuri?

Well!

Daddy!

There, now. That's enough.

Your mother, your mother.

Mummy!

Mummy, how are you?

Me? Fit as a fiddle.

Turn round.

Well, they've taught her something.

- Oh-ho! Look at that.
- Isn’t Yuri looking well, Tonya?

Yes. Well, let's get along, dear.

Yes, run along, you two.

Oh, I bought you this.

It has a piece in it
about young Russian poets.

Oh, good, thank you.
Does it mention me?

It begins with you. You're the best.

Very intelligent nation, the French.

They have their heads together.

Yes, they're looking at the paper.

They're head over heels.

Anushka, stop it!

Good marriages are made in heaven.
Or some such place.

- Victor Ippolitovich?
- Pasha.

I want to talk to you.

No, Pasha.

It's important.

All right.

Pasha!

How did you do it?

I didn't.

A dragoon did.

Oh, Pasha, darling!

Come, come.

Where's your mother?

Asleep.

Pasha.

Pasha, I can't deal with this.

Have you got any iodine?

- Yes, but...
- Get it.

Pasha, darling!

Pasha, you must go to a hospital.

I daren't for a day or so.

- Will you do something for me?
- Oh, yes. What?

Hide this.

Oh, throw it away!

No. There'll be no more
peaceful demonstrations.

There were women and children, Lara,
and they rode them down.

Starving women, asking for bread.

Up on Tamskaya Avenue, the pigs
were eating, drinking and dancing.

Hide it for me.

Thanks, comrade.

Oh, Pasha, darling,
I'm not your comrade.

Lara?

- Yes?
- Lara, who's there?

It's only Pasha.

- You came in very late last night, dear.
- The time went so quickly.

Good.

- Are you going to church?
- Yes.

You know what our Lord said
to the woman taken in adultery?

Yes, Father.
He said, "Go and sin no more."

And did she?

- I don't know, Father.
- Nobody does, child.

The flesh is not weak. It is strong.

Only the sacrament of marriage
will contain it. Remember that.

Monsieur, it's number six
this evening, sir.

The most important person here.

- Sorry I'm late.
- I've been waiting nearly an hour, Victor.

- Have you ordered?
- No.

Well, you should have done.

You chose it, Victor.

- You've grown up a lot, haven't you?
- Yes.

- What did you tell your mama tonight?
- Victor, don't.

Aw.

- May I smoke?
- Yes, of course.

You like it, don't you? Cigar smoke.

Come along, my dear.

Drink, drink, drink.

Up, up.

Up. Up, up, up.

Where did you tell her
we were going, your mama?

She didn't ask.

- That's because she knows.
- No, she doesn't.

You'd both take an oath she doesn't,
but she does. You both know she does.

- Victor, don't.
- What?

- Torment me.
- Torment?

What a little hypocrite it is.

I'm going now, Victor.

Whenever you like, dear.

You see, you'll always come back.

Stay, darling.

Stay.

Wake up! You take this and you show it
to someone if you lose your way.

Professor Boris Kurt.
You find him! Now, go on.

Professor Boris Kurt!

But, Boris, this is genius.

Oh? I thought it was Rachmaninoff.
I'm going for a smoke.

How's the general practitioner?

- A bit scared of his finals.
- I don't think he need be.

How do you like the idea of marrying
a general practitioner?

I like it very much.
But no general practitioner's asked me.

No? I thought you nomads
were hot-blooded?

A slow lot, these general practitioners.
How do you fancy a professor of pathology?

- Does he write poetry?
- Alas, no.

Then I'm afraid it's out
of the question. Excuse me.

- That's a marvelous girl, Zhivago.
- Yes, I'd noticed.

It's for you.

How'd the poet like to see
a bit of general practice?

Boris, thank God you've come.
This is very good of you.

- Yes, I know it is. My assistant.
- How do you do?

- Come on, where is she?
- This way.

- When did she do it?
- About 8:00 this evening.

You know what it was?

- Why the devil didn't you get a local doctor?
- I couldn't.

No, I suppose you couldn't.
Come on, then.

Let's turn her over.

Right.

Water.

Right, Yuri.
Come on, my dear, up you come.

Now, Yuri.

Come on, dear.

- Oh, come on, Yuri.
- Sorry.

Now my dear. That's it.

That's it. Good. Good.

Good.

Is she gonna live?

Water.

- She is, isn't she?
- Yes.

Funny thing. There's a man,
speaks on public platforms.

In with the government, in with
the Liberals, in with everybody.

And he risks it all. For that!

That's not how poets see them, is it?
That's how GPs see them.

- That's how they are.
- You know, from here, she looks beautiful.

Zhivago, I think you're a hard case.

Lara. Lara!

There's a child in the case, a child.
Her daughter.

Oh, for heaven's sake, Boris.

She might've thought about Lara
before she did it.

Does the girl know?
I'm afraid she does.

- Is she here?
- Yes.

Well, tell her that
her mother's going to live.

- Wait a minute, Victor. Yuri.
- Yes, of course.

- What are we gonna say about this?
- Must we say anything?

I'm afraid so. I'm taking her to the hospital.
I'll have to say something.

You know that needn't be difficult, Boris.

- What's the name of your assistant?
- Zhivago.

- Andreyevich?
- Yes, why? Do you know him?

- No, I knew his father slightly.
- Right.

Cheer up, Yuri. I'll have the poor bitch
in hospital tonight.

What's his name?

That's Victor Komarovsky.
He says he knows you.

He executed my father's will.

Uncle Alex turned it down.

Komarovsky said there wasn't much in it,
and what there was belonged to him.

He's a very good businessman.
But I doubt that he's crooked.

Very good company. Knows life.

He's had a bad scare tonight.

You don't mind coming here,
do you, Victor?

No, no. It reminds me of my youth.

- I went to the hospital again.
- And?

She wants you to go and forgive her.
For her suspicions.

You can tell her the truth
if you like, Larissa.

- Is this him?
- Yes.

- He knows nothing about...
- No!

Pasha, this is Monsieur Komarovsky.

Please.

- Will you eat?
- No, thank you.

I hope you don't think
this is impertinent.

Not at all.

I have advised Larissa's mother for years.
I'm interested in what happens to her.

something I have to tell you
and that is this:

I am committed to the Revolution.

Nothing, not even Lara...

has more importance for me.

You misunderstand.
Your political views do not concern me.

So far as that goes, I'm probably
more in sympathy than you suppose.

I have a few contacts of my own
which might surprise you.

- How do you propose to live?
- I've been offered a teaching post.

- May I know where?
- Gradov, it's in the Urals.

- I know it. Not much of a place.
- It's beautiful country, monsieur.

- Be a quiet life, won't it?
- That's what we want.

Well, you'll excuse me:
Will your salary be adequate?

Adequate, not more.

Pavel Pavlovich,
my chief impression...

and I mean no offense,
is that you're very young.

Monsieur, I hope I don't offend you.
Do people improve with age?

- They grow a little more tolerant.
- Because they have more to tolerate in themselves.

If people don't marry young,
what do they bring to their marriage?

A little experience.

I'm 26. My mother died
needlessly when I was 8.

My father died in prison.
I have fended for myself.

I've worked my way through school
and university.

I am familiar with things
that you can hardly guess at.

All this is an experience
of a kind, certainly.

I've no amorous experience,
if that's what you mean. None whatever.

Lara's 17. That speaks for itself.

You probably find this
situation comic. We don't.

We're going to be married next year.

I hope I haven't offended
you by speaking plainly.

Not at all. Admirable.

A young crusader.

- He's...
- He's a very fine young man.

That's obvious.

You're very generous,
Monsieur Komarovsky.

Larissa, I want to talk to you.

Monsieur Komarovsky, have you...?

I beg you, drop this affectation of
addressing me as "Monsieur Komarovsky."

Under the circumstances,
I find it rather ridiculous.

Lara, I am determined to save you
from a dreadful error.

There are two kinds of men, and only two.
That young man is one kind.

He is high-minded. He is pure.

He's the kind of man the world pretends
to look up to, and in fact despises.

He is the kind of man who breeds
unhappiness, particularly in women.

- Do you understand?
- No.

I think you do.

There's another kind.

Not high-minded. Not pure. But alive.

That your tastes should incline towards
the juvenile is understandable.

But for you to marry that boy
would be a disaster.

Because there's two kinds of women.

There are two kinds of women. And you,
as we well know, are not the first kind.

You, my dear...

are a slut.

I am not!

We'll see.

And don't delude yourself this was rape.
That would flatter us both.

- The master's not at home, Miss Lara.
- Not at home?

No. He went to the
Sventytskis' Christmas party.

Are you going there, miss?
Please don't say I told you.

- No. Thank you, Piotr!
- Merry Christmas, Miss Lara!

Thank you and merry Christmas to you.

Merry Christmas, Yuri Andreyevich.

Lara.

What's the matter?

We had an appointment this evening.
Where are you going?

- Haven't you read the letter? I left a letter.
- I've not been home. I'm going now.

Where are you going, Lara?
I've a right to know.

Lara, what's in this letter?

What's in this letter?

- Lara, are you breaking...?
- It's all in the letter.

- What is?
- Everything.

Don't!

Yuri, there's an extraordinary girl
at this party.

I know. I'm dancing with her.

- You're keen tonight, Victor.
- I like to win.

Silence! Silence, everybody.
Silence, please.

I have a very delightful
announcement to make.

- Oh, Madame Sventytski.
- Yes, why not?

Aha! I have to announce that
Dr. Yuri Zhivago, yes, Dr. Zhivago...

he came third in all Moscow.

Now, listen. Please, please.

Dr. Zhivago is betrothed
in marriage to...

My dear Victor!

My dear man.

- Get her out.
- What?

Get her out. Get her out!

- Yes, yes. I'll get the police.
- No!

Don't get the police.
Leave me!

I do not want the police.
Just get her out!

Let her go.

Please. Quiet, friends.
Please give way, yes?

Please, would you mind?

Would you mind? Thank you. Thank you.

- Our destinies seem to be interwoven.
- Yes.

- I was a close friend of your father.
- I knew you were his business partner.

Rather more than that.
I was present at his death.

Also, I'm in contact
with your brother.

Yevgraf?

I'm in contact with those in contact
with him. I disagree with Bolshevism.

Thank you.

You seem to know your trade.

But I can still
admire Bolsheviks as men.

Shall I tell you why?

Yes.

They may win.

I'd like to meet him. Yevgraf.
He sent me a marvelous letter.

- He likes my poetry.
- That would've pleased your father.

Your father was not a bad man, Yuri.
If I may call you Yuri.

I hardly knew him.

You, perhaps, may not credit this...

but he was devoted to your mother.

I suppose I may continue to rely
on your professional discretion?

You mean, will I tell anyone
the truth about that girl?

That's what I mean, yes.

You may continue to rely
on my professional... et cetera.

You are fastidious, aren't you?

What happens to a girl like that when
a man like you has finished with her?

Interested? I give her to you.

You shouldn't smoke.
You've had a shock.

I give her to you, Yuri Andreyevich.

A wedding present.

Yuri?

Where have you seen that girl before?

- What makes you think I've seen her before?
- Haven't you?

- Yes.
- Where?

I'm not supposed to say.
It was on a case. Not very nice...

No, don't tell me if you're
not supposed to say.

In bourgeois terms, it was a war
between the Allies and Germany.

In Bolshevik terms, it was a war between
the Allied and German upper classes.

And which of them won
was a matter of indifference.

I was ordered by the Party to enlist.
I gave my name as Petrov.

They were shouting for victory
all over Europe...

praying for victory,
to the same God.

My task, the Party's task,
was to organize defeat.

From defeat would
spring the Revolution.

And the Revolution would be
victory for us.

The Party looked
to the conscript peasants.

Most of them wearing
their first good pair of boots.

When the boots wore out,
they'd be ready to listen.

When the time came, I took three battalions
with me out of the front line.

The best day's work I ever did.

But for the moment,
there was nothing to be done.

There were too many volunteers,
like me. Mostly it was mere hysteria.

But there were men with better motives,
men who saw that times were critical...

and wanted a man's part.
Good men, wasted.

Unhappy men too.
Unhappy in their jobs.

Unhappy with their wives.

Doubting themselves.

Happy men don't volunteer.

They wait their turn and thank God
if their age or work delays it.

The ones who got back home at the
price of an arm or an eye or a leg...

these were the lucky ones.

Even Comrade Lenin underestimated...

both the anguish
of that 900-mile-long front...

and our cursed capacity
for suffering.

By the second winter of the war...

the boots had worn out...

but the line still held.

Their greatcoats fell
to pieces on their backs.

Their rations were irregular.

Half of them went into action without
arms, led by men they didn't trust.

Come on, you bastards!

And those they did trust...

Come on, comrades, come on!

Come on!

Come on!

Come on!

Comrades! Earthshakers! Show them!

Charge!

At last, they did what
all the armies dreamed of doing.

They began to go home.

That was the beginning
of the Revolution.

Deserters.

Replacements.

Tote...

arms!

Come back!

Stick together!

Stick together and we'll be all right.

And be ready for them.

Turn round, lads.
Don't go any further.

Come on, turn around.
Pigs for the slaughter.

Turn round, lads!

Don't listen to them.
Get back in your ranks, I say!

Don't pay any attention
to those cowards!

No more war! No more war!

Listen, lads. Ten miles
up that road are the Germans!

- Rubbish!
- It's not rubbish. They're coming.

And they're coming fast.

You've let them in!

They're coming for your wives,
your houses...

- your country.
- Your country, officer!

Yes, my country! And proud...

Get back in your ranks!

Get back in your ranks, I say!

Get back!

Get back in ranks!

- Are you a nurse?
- Yes.

- Are you all right?
- Yes.

Then help me.

I ought to tell you,
I'm not a trained nurse, I'm a volunteer.

I see, right. Why did you volunteer?

- I came here to find my husband.
- Very gently.

- Have you ever seen an operation?
- Yes.

We'll manage.

They're in the next village,
brothers! The Germans.

- Your Honor...
- Keep still.

Did you find your husband?

No.

- Your Honor...
- Yes, we'd better be off.

You know, you often look at me
as though you knew me.

I have seen you.
Four years ago, Christmas Eve.

Were you there?

No wonder you look at me.

- Did you know Victor Komarovsky?
- Yes, I did.

- That young man who took you away...
- My husband.

A lot of courage.
He made the rest of us look very feeble.

As a matter of fact, I thought
you both did. Good man to shoot at.

I'd give anything
never to have met him.

The Tsar's in prison.

Lenin's in Moscow!

- Civil war has started.
- Good!

Civil war, good?

Not good, Comrade Nurse. Inevitable.

But Lenin in Moscow!

This Lenin, will he be
the new Tsar then?

Listen, Daddy, no more Tsars,
no more masters!

Only workers in a workers' state!
How about that?

- Are you a doctor?
- Yes.

Follow me, please.

I can't deal with this.

Order of the Provisional Government.
You'll have to try, friend.

"If you could see how hard
we've been working here...

I'm sure you'd forgive me
for not writing more regularly."

- When was that written?
- July 20th.

Eight weeks!

"But now the war seems really
to have stopped.

The hospital is emptying,
and I shall have more time.

I may even get time to write some verse,
if I've not forgotten how to."

Oh, I do hope so.

"Larissa Antipova is still here,
and I admire her more and more.

She has that strange gift of healing,
which doctors don't believe in.

She often does the wrong things,
but it always seems to work out right.

How is Uncle Alex?
Can he still get his English tobacco?"

Would that he could.

"Can Sasha say his letters yet?
And how is Auntie Anna?"

He didn't get my letter.

"Most of all, my dearest,
how are you?"

Strangely upsetting,
he doesn't know she's dead.

Can't see what difference it makes.

They're at it again!

I wish they'd decide
once and for all...

which gang of hooligans constitutes
the government of this country!

Cheer up, Sergei.

Don't you want to go home?

There's fighting at home, Your Honor.
I've had enough.

Red Guards and White Guards...
The old man's had enough.

Your Honor is a kind gentleman.

And the nurse is a kind lady!

- Finished?
- Just about.

- In a while, you'll be with your little girl.
- If I can get on a train.

I want to be with Katya
more than anything in the world.

Yes, of course.

But now that we're going, I feel sad.

Sad. Really sad.

Well, we've been here some time.

This must have been a lovely
house once. Don't you think?

What are you going to do?

- In Gradov?
- Yes.

- I'll be all right.
- I wish I could think so.

You could run a laundry.

What will you do?

I suppose I'll go back
to the hospital.

It's funny to think of you there.

I used to pass it on my way to school.

- Do you ever come to Moscow?
- From Gradov?

If only there were someone
to look after you.

Of course, if there were,
I'd be destroyed by jealousy.

Zhivago, don't.

My dear...

Don't, please.

Now, look what you've made me do.

Yuri, we've been
together six months...

on the road and here.

We've not done anything
you'll have to lie about to Tonya.

I don't want you to have
to lie about me.

You understand that, Yuri?

You understand everything.

Come on, comrades! I'm in a hurry!

Going home, Kirill?

Home, Your Excellency? Petrograd.
I'm joining the Red Guard.

What about your wife?

Sometimes, Comrade Nurse,
women have to wait.

Right. Goodbye, honored doctor.

Want some advice?

- Said the millstone to the barley.
- That's right. Adapt yourself.

- Goodbye, Ivanov.
- Goodbye, Your Honor.

Goodbye, Andre.

Goodbye, Simeon.

I'll never forget Your Honor. Never.

Goodbye, Zhivago.

Goodbye. Thank you.

Pilenko.

Giddap!

- Goodbye, brothers!
- Goodbye!

The doctor is a gentleman.

- Right. Written all over him.
- He's a good man.

God rot good men.

Yuri!

Yuri.

This is Comrade Yelkin,
our local delegate. He lives here.

How do you do?

Welcome.

- Comrade Kaprugina.
- Welcome.

It's not for you to welcome us, comrade.

Comrade Kaprugina is the Chairman
of the Residents' Committee.

- Yes, of course.
- Your discharge papers?

Oh, yes.

I signed them myself, I'm afraid.

Holy Cross? What?

- Holy Cross Hospital, it's on...
- The Second Reformed Hospital.

Good. It needed reforming.

Medicals report
to their place of work at once.

Yes, I believe there's typhus.

You've been listening to rumormongers.
There is no typhus in our city.

Well, that's good news.
I'll report tomorrow.

When you've started work,
you'll get a ration book.

I've always worked.

- Whatever is the matter?
- You are.

There was living space
for 13 families in this one house.

Yes.

Yes, this is a better arrangement,
comrades. More just.

But it is more just.
Why did it sound so funny?

Is it good to be home?

- Sasha?
- Who else?

- This is your daddy, Sasha.
- Sasha.

Sasha!

- Naughty boy!
- No, don't say that.

May I come in?

Watch carefully.

I'm about to ignite the last half
of the last cigar in Moscow.

- Good meal?
- Very.

Say something.

- That was very good, Tonya.
- That was nothing.

She saved that salami
for three months.

- Have you, darling?
- I got it for a clock.

She's a marvel. Coffee, you observe.

Stop it, Daddy.
He knows I'm a marvel.

- Did you write any poetry?
- Quite a lot.

Is it good?

Yes. I think so.

- Can I see it?
- But of course.

What happened to Nurse Antipova?
Your letters were full of her.

Yes, I suppose they were.

The girl who shot
friend Komarovsky, isn't it?

Yes, Daddy. You know it is.

She's gone home to her little girl.

- Oh, we shan't see her then?
- No.

What a pity.

Farewell, the pleasures of the flesh.

What I don't understand is how
we're going to stay alive this winter.

You have no right whatever
to call me from work.

- As a Soviet Deputy, I...
- That gives you the power, not the right.

It's noticed, you know.
Your attitude is noticed.

You should have called
the area doctor.

I want this done quietly.

Why, what is it? Typhus?

I'll take him away.
Get me some transport.

It isn't typhus.

It's another disease we don't have
in Moscow: starvation.

- That seems to give you satisfaction.
- It would satisfy me to hear you admit it.

- Would it? Why?
- Because it is so.

Your attitude is noticed, you know.
Oh, yes, it's been noticed.

- Yuri!
- Hello.

The stove's out.

Tonya, the stove's out.

What's the matter with you?
No wonder he's losing weight.

She lets it out as soon as you're gone
and she lights it before you come home.

We haven't enough fuel.

I told myself it was beneath my dignity...

to arrest a man
for pilfering firewood.

But nothing ordered by the Party
is beneath dignity...

and the Party was right.

One man desperate
for a bit of fuel is pathetic.

Five million people desperate for fuel
will destroy a city.

That was the first time I ever saw
my brother. But I knew him.

And I knew that I would
disobey the Party.

Perhaps it was the tie of blood
between us, but I doubt it.

We were only half-tied anyway.
And brothers will betray a brother.

As a policeman, I would say:

"Get hold of a man's brother,
and you're halfway home."

Nor was it admiration
for a better man than me.

I did admire him, but I didn't
think he was a better man.

Besides, I've executed better men
than me with a small pistol.

You'll have to live like
the rest of us, doctor.

Bring it back! Bring that back!

Oh, listen to His Excellency.

I want no anarchy!
I want this carried out correctly.

- What are you doing?
- Reallocation of living space.

Fifty square meters per family
of less than five.

- Damn it, whose house is this anyway?
- Father, be quiet!

All right, 50 square meters!
What're you doing with my things?

- They're being stored.
- They're being stolen.

- Yuri!
- Just a minute!

- And where did you get this?
- I pulled it out of a fence.

I told them who I was.

The old man was hostile.
The girl, cautious.

My brother...

seemed very pleased.

I think the girl was the only one
who guessed at their position.

You're just as I imagined you:
you're my political conscience.

I asked him, hadn't he one of his own?
And so he talked about the Revolution.

You lay life on a table, and you cut out
all the tumors of injustice. Marvelous.

I told him if he felt like that,
he should join the Party.

But cutting out the tumors of injustice,
that's a deep operation.

Someone must keep life alive while you
do it, by living. Isn’t that right?

I thought, then, it was wrong.

He told me what he thought
about the Party and I trembled for him.

He approved of us, but for reasons
which were subtle, like his verse.

Approval such as his could
vanish overnight. I told him so.

Well, I can't approve this evening
something you may do tomorrow.

He was walking about with a noose
round his neck and didn't know.

So I told him what
I had heard about his poems.

Not liked?

Not liked by whom?

Why not liked?

So I told him that.

Do you think it's "personal,
petit-bourgeois and self-indulgent"?

I lied.

But he believed me.

It struck me through
to see that my opinion mattered.

The girl knew what it meant,
what it was going to mean.

They couldn't survive
what was coming in the city.

I urged them to leave and live
obscurely in the country...

where they could
keep themselves alive.

We have... Used to have an estate
at Varykino near Yuryatin.

People know us there.

He didn't resist. I offered
to obtain permits, passes, warrants.

Told them what to take
and what to leave behind.

I had the impertinence to ask him
for a volume of his poems.

And so we parted.

I think I even told him that we would
meet again in better times.

But perhaps I didn't.

Fifty persons! Fifty persons only!

- Tonya!
- Yes!

Tonya! Here!

Fifty persons only! Get back!

Fifty persons only! Fifty persons only!

Fifty persons! Only 50 persons!

Charming accommodation.

"Charming accommodation."
That's very good.

I'm an intellectual.

Shut up, you "intellectual."

Shut up, you lickspittle.

Forced labor.

Attention, comrades, your train
will leave tomorrow morning.

"Health regulations for the journey:

Night soil will be emptied
every morning without fail.

Straw to be replaced at 10-day
intervals, the old straw burned.

In the event of fresh straw being
unavailable, old straw to be turned."

This is disinfectant. Use it.

- "In this wagon is a detachment of Voluntary Labor."
- Liar.

"You're required by the Military
Committee to show them all assistance.

One carriage is occupied by sailors of
the heroic Kronstadt Sailors' Soviet."

- So you'll be in good hands.
- They're idiots.

"Attention comrades. In approximately 11 days'
time, you'll pass through the Urals Province...

where White Guard units,
aided by foreign interventionists...

and other criminal reactionary elements
have recently been active.

The Military Committee assures you...

that the criminals have been routed
in that area by Red Guard units...

under the command of
People's Commander Strelnikov."

That man. Clap him.

"The line is definitely clear.
Long live the Revolution."

Long live anarchy! Lickspittle!

Bureaucrat!

Is that necessary?

Six volunteers I've signed for,
and six I'll deliver.

I'm a free man, lickspittle.

There's nothing you can do about it.

I'm the only free man on this train.

The rest of you are cattle!

Help me, brothers, for the love of God!

Come on!

Yuri, the child is dead.

It wasn't my child, dear, and his
little soul's in heaven now, that's certain.

- Who did it, comrade, the Whites?
- The Whites?

No. Strelnikov.

Well, then, you must have
done something.

It wasn't us. The commander said
we'd sold horses to the Whites.

It wasn't us. It was those pigs in Kuniko.
We told him, but he didn't believe us.

- I expect you were lying.
- As God's my witness...

But he isn't.

Commander Strelnikov is a great man.

A commander, Sasha,
and he lives on bread and water.

- Does he?
- I don't know. They say so.

It's true. No one knows
where he comes from.

- And they never know where he is.
- He's back up the line.

Yes?

Now, someone's for it, eh?

Oh, really! Not again.

What this time?

Never mind, Father.
Get a good night's sleep.

I know what I'm going to do.

Look!

The Urals.

Look, Sasha, look!
That's where we're going, darling.

Through the mountains
and into the forest.

Then keeping much warmer still.

Will there be wolves in the forest?

Strelnikov!

Yes.

That's Strelnikov.

Daddy?

What's that noise?

It's only a waterfall.

No, the other noise.

Guns, Sasha.

- Are they fighting?
- They must be.

It's a long way away.

Let's go to sleep.

Get him!

No!

Look.

- Is that all?
- That's all.

Bring him.

Who sent you here, Zhivago?

No one sent me here,
commander.

I'm with my wife and child.
They're on the train from Moscow.

- Yes, we've checked that.
- Then?

You put your knife with a fork
and a spoon and it looks innocuous.

Perhaps you travel with a wife
and child for the same reason.

No!

Yuryatin is occupied by White Guards.
Is that why you're going there?

No, we're going on to Varykino.

Not through Yuryatin.
It's under shellfire.

Commander, I'm not a White Agent.

No, I don't think you are.

All right, Kolya. Thank you, comrade.
Sit down, doctor.

Take it.

It's not as silly as it seems.
There have been one or two attempts.

Are you the poet?

Yes.

- I used to admire your poetry.
- Thank you.

I shouldn't admire it now.

I should find it absurdly personal,
don't you agree?

Feelings, insights, affections.
It's suddenly trivial now.

You don't agree. You're wrong.

The personal life is dead in Russia.
History has killed it.

I can see how you might hate me.

I hate everything you say,
but not enough to kill you for it.

You have a brother.

- Yevgraf?
- Yevgraf, yes. The policeman.

- I didn't know that.
- Perhaps not. A secret policeman.

- Did he send you here?
- Yevgraf?

No, Yevgraf's a Bolshevik.

I don't know anything
about these things.

Oh, you know a great deal.

When you came in,
you recognized me. How?

- Has someone shown you photographs?
- No.

I am certain that you recognized me.

I've seen you before, commander.

When?

- Six years ago.
- Go on.

Christmas Eve, you...

You were there?

Or has someone told you this?

I attended to the man who
was injured by your wife.

Why do you call her my wife?

I met her again. We served together
on the Ukrainian front.

If she's with you, I'm sure
she'd vouch for me.

I haven't seen her since the war.

She's in Yuryatin.

Yuryatin?

The private life is dead...

for a man with any manhood.

We saw a sample of your manhood
on the way, a place called Mink.

- They'd been selling horses to the Whites.
- No.

- It seems you burnt the wrong village.
- They always say that and what does it matter?

A village betrays us, a village
is burnt. The point made.

Your point, their village.

Kolya!

What will you do with your wife
and child in Varykino?

Just live.

Take him away. He's innocent.

You're lucky.

We've been diverted.
Do you know where we're going?

- Yes. Varykino Halt.
- Thank God.

Hello?

Hello?

How lovely.

Oh, how lovely!

Hello?

Hello?

- Alexander Maximovich?
- Yes.

It's me, Petya.

- Your Honor.
- Now, now, now.

That's all done with, you know.

How do we get to the house, Petya?

As you always did, Your Honor.

Look, Sasha.

What is it, Petya? Forest fire?

Forest fire, Your Honor?
That's Yuryatin.

Poor souls. First the Reds,
then the Whites.

Now the Reds again.

That Strelnikov, his heart must be dead.

Go on.

We'll soon be there now, Sasha.

Another five miles.

Is it that far? One forgets.
How is the place?

Well enough, Your Honor.
It's all locked up, you know?

Varykino.

All locked up, you see.

A body, styling itself...

the "Yuryatin Committee
of Revolutionary Justice"...

has expropriated my house
in the name of the people.

Very well.

I'm one of the people too!

Don't, Your Honor!
They'd call it counterrevolution.

Father, don't. Petya brought us here,
that makes him a counterrevolutionary too.

They shoot counterrevolutionaries.

It's not the Reds in the town,
it's the Reds in the forest.

- Partisans.
- Here?

Who knows? They go where they want
and they do what they want.

All we need is a roof, Petya.

And a bit of garden.

Is there nowhere?

They didn't lock the cottage.

Oh, yes, we can manage here.

The stove works.

- I'll find you a few sticks of furniture.
- And some seed potatoes?

I'm afraid the garden is
dreadfully run back.

Yes, thank you.

Well done, my boy.

I must say, scratch a Russian
and you'll find a peasant.

I've always said so.

Well, you're wrong. He works like
a peasant but he isn't a peasant.

I don't mind, Tonya, really.

- It's a good life.
- It certainly is.

I wouldn't be surprised if you two looked
back on this time as one of your best.

Awfully glad about the expected
new arrival, Yuri.

Anna was born here, you know.

No, I didn't know that.

Oh, I'm terribly glad.

Aha! Here's winged Mercury.

Looks a bit down in the mouth.

Petya.

What news from Yuryatin?

No lard, no sugar.
Oil next week, perhaps.

Flour, salt, coffee...

and nails.

Bad news?

- Oh, Lord, not another purge.
- No.

- Strelnikov's gone.
- Well, that's not bad news.

No, he's in Manchuria, they say.

That's the news.

They've shot the Tsar.

And all his family.

Oh, that's a savage deed!

What's it for?

It's to show there's no going back.

Yuri, why don't you go to Yuryatin?

Yes, why don't you, my boy?
It'd do you good.

Why? What's in Yuryatin?

It isn't Petersburg.
Very decent little library.

- If it's still there.
- I wish you would.

No, I don't think so.

Anyway, the roads are blocked.

Zhivago.

Yes.

How are you?

What are you doing here?

We're at Varykino.

Varykino?

Why Varykino?

Why not? We had to go somewhere.

But here?

I came here to find my husband.
The one who was reported killed.

Strelnikov.

I met him.

- Met him?
- Yes.

How long have you been living here?

About a year.

- Alone?
- With Katya.

- Where is Katya now?
- At school.

Is Tonya with you?

All of us.

- Sasha?
- Of course.

- What are we going to do?
- I don't know.

Yuri?

It's awfully early, isn't it?

Half past 6.

What're you doing?

Nothing. Couldn't sleep.

- Is anything the matter?
- No.

Shall I get some tea?

Yes, do.

Hello. You are silly.
We called and called.

- Did you? I didn't hear.
- Well, we did.

- Hello, Lara.
- Hello.

- How's Olya Petrovna?
- She gets worse and worse.

She gave us C.I. and arithmetic
all morning.

- C.I.?
- Civic Instruction.

Look.

- That's very good, Katya.
- Thank you.

It's the Tsar.

The Tsar's an enemy
of the people.

Well, he didn't know he was
an enemy of the people, you know.

Well, he should've known, shouldn't he?

Yes, he should.

Fancy not knowing C.I.
Doesn't your little boy go to school?

Lunch.

Good.

Come on, you.

Smell.

What?

This one's a prizefighter.

Yuri.

Wait a minute.

There.

- I'm going into Yuryatin, darling.
- What, now?

Yes, I want to get some morphine,
disinfectant.

- I shan't need morphine.
- You never know.

I shan't need it today.

No, but it's pretty close.
I hadn't realized.

- You'll be back before it's dark?
- Long before.

Yes, yes, my darling, do what's best.

I am not coming back.

- I understand.
- But never, Lara!

You understand?

Do you believe me?

Comrade Doctor,
I need a medical officer.

Sorry, I have a wife and child
in Varykino.

And a mistress in Yuryatin.

Comrade Medical Officer, we are
Red Partisans. And we shoot deserters.

- Where are you taking me?
- To the front.

- And where is the front?
- Good question, doctor.

It's wherever there are
enemies of the Revolution.

Wherever there is one gang of White
Guards or foreign interventionists.

Wherever there's one resentful bourgeois,
one unreliable schoolmaster...

one dubious poet hugging
his private life.

That too is the front.

- How long are you going to keep me?
- For as long as we need you.

Now!

Charge!

Well, that was easy.

Come on, doctor, let's see
what we've done.

St. Michael's Military School.

You old bastard!

It doesn't matter.

Did you ever love a woman, Razin?

I once had a wife and four children.

He has been a good comrade.
And a good medic.

We took him from his wife,
we took him from his child.

None of this matters.

What does matter, Comrade Commissar?
Tell me, I've forgotten.

- This is contemptible. The doctor stays.
- I command this unit!

We command jointly.
The Party bulletin expressly states...

I could have you taken out and shot.

And could you have the Party
taken out and shot?

As the military struggle nears its close,
the political struggle intensifies.

In victory, the military
will have served its purpose.

All men will then be
judged politically...

regardless of their
military record.

Meanwhile, there are still White Units
in this area. The doctor stays.

That concludes the meeting.

Comrade, where are you going?

Are you running away, comrade?

- Soldiers.
- Red soldiers or White soldiers?

Soldiers.

Tonya?

Tonya! Sasha!

Tonya!

Tonya!

Tonya! Hey!

Tonya! Tonya!

- This is Yuryatin?
- Yes, Yuryatin.

What's happened at Varykino?

- Moscow folks?
- Yes.

They've gone away. Gone away.
There's nobody at Varykino.

Lord, what happiness!
They say you're alive.

Someone saw you near the town.

I take it you've gone to Varykino,
so I'm going there myself with Katya.

Just in case, I've left a little food.
Boiled potatoes mostly.

Put the lid back on the pan
or the rats will get it.

I'm mad with joy!

Tonya.

Tonya!

- Yuri.
- Tonya!

- Yuri.
- Tonya.

Yuri, darling.

It's all right, Yuri.

They're safe. They're in Moscow.

- In Moscow?
- Yes.

- Tonya?
- All of them. They're safe.

Safe.

Firing squads!

Better.

What?

I've got a letter for you.

I've had it three months.

And it was three months getting here.

It's from Moscow.

I think it's from Tonya.

It's addressed to you, care of me.

She came into Yuryatin to find you
when you vanished.

Someone sent her here.

You met?

She's very fine.

My dearest dear.

I'm sending this
to Larissa Antipova's...

because if you are alive,
which God grant...

I think that is where you will go.

We have a little daughter, Yuri.
Did you know?

Her name's Anna.

Father sends greetings.

Sasha has grown quite a lot.
He's quite big now.

Whenever we speak of you,
he weeps and won't be comforted.

This is what I have to tell you:

We are being deported from Russia.

We can't make out
if you'd be allowed to join us.

An organization in Paris, which I
mustn't name, will know where we are.

But nothing is certain,
and there's very little time.

I'm writing this in haste.

They're coming for us now.
God bless you.

I must honestly admit
that Antipova is a good person.

Yuri, when they got away to Moscow,
she left something here.

Yuri?

May I come in?

Yuri Andreyevich,
you've changed, I think.

Oh, yes, decidedly.

Larissa...

remarkably the same.

I came from Moscow.

I'm on the way to Vladivostok.

I'm here to offer you my help.

We don't want it.

- Speak for yourself.
- We don't want it.

Yuri Andreyevich, you spent two years
with the Partisan's 5th Division.

You have no discharge,
so you are a deserter.

Your family in Paris is involved
in a dangerous émigré organization.

Now, all these are technicalities.

But your style of life...

everything you say, your published
writings, are all flagrantly subversive.

Your days are numbered...

unless I help you.

- Do you want my help?
- No.

Wait, Yuri.

Larissa, three glasses.

No.

Yuri, you must see
how serious this is.

Please don't underestimate me.

Practically or morally,
I'm not the man you take me for.

How do you know all this about Yuri?
How can you help?

I do and I can. Isn’t that sufficient?

No.

Our Eastern Seaboard is
an undeveloped area.

The commissariat of foreign affairs wants
to establish an independent state there.

It affords us a temporary channel of
communication with the outside world.

I have good contacts in the Far East.

I've been appointed
the Minister of Justice.

- The Bolsheviks trust you?
- They trust no one.

They found me useful.

Here's how I can help you.

You come with me as far
as the Pacific Coast.

From there you can go
where you like.

To Paris, or not.

I think you'd better go.

Your rarefied selfishness is intolerable.

Larissa's in danger too.

- By association with me?
- No.

Not by association with you.
You're a small fry.

By association with Strelnikov.

- I never met Strelnikov.
- You're married to him, they know that.

- I was married to Pasha Antipov.
- I understand, I understand.

But they don't.

You're being watched.

Do you know why?

A husband is a sticky commodity,
my dear.

Go away.

More of your high-minded lunacy?

You have a child to think of!

Look here.

- That's sugar for the child.
- I don't want it.

You would refuse my sugar?

Who are you to refuse me anything?!

Now you go.

- I came...
- Go!

Go!

I came to you in good faith.

Stay here then,
and get your desserts!

Your desserts, do you hear me?

Do you think you're immaculate?

You're not immaculate!

I know you!

Do you hear me?!

We're all made of the same clay,
you know!

Clay!

Clay!

Lara?

He's rubbish, Lara.

Yes. Rubbish.

I wish he'd never happened.

Does it matter?

Doesn't it?

Not to me.

What shall we do?
Can we get on a train?

No, they'd arrest us on the spot.

- I don't want to stay here and wait.
- No.

Listen...

- we could go to...
- Varykino.

- They'd find out sooner or later.
- Yes, but later.

- If our days are really numbered, Yuri...
- Yes.

We'd better live them...

before we are parted.

Yes.

Yo ho! Yo ho!

Father caught a flea! Ho, ho, ho

I love the snow
One, two, three

Anna taught me to write at this desk.

This isn't me, Yuri.

- Yes, it is.
- No.

It's you.

"Lara."

Yuri!

- Yuri, there's a wolf howling!
- Oh, yes, I've...

I've seen them. They're frightened.
They won't harm us.

Yes, I know.

I'm sorry. It's...

Oh, Lord, this is an awful time
to be alive!

- No.
- It is. It is!

No, no.

Wouldn't it have been lovely
if we'd met before?

Before we did? Yes.

We'd have got married,
had a house and children.

If we'd had children, Yuri,
would you have liked a boy or a girl?

I think we may go mad
if we think about all that.

I shall always think about it.

- Will you write today?
- No, not today.

Katya!

Come to me, darling.

They're here.

Victor!

We thought it was...

Quite.

I wonder if you'd mind, comrades?

There's a train belonging to my
government standing in Yuryatin.

There's a carriage for myself
and my assistants.

You will travel in comfort and safety.

There's no question.
I'm not going with you.

I'm not going without you.
So there's an end to it.

Then I'll have to speak
to Yuri Andreyevich in private.

Strelnikov is dead.

- What?
- Spare me your expressions of regret.

He was a murderous neurotic,
and no loss to anyone.

Do you see how this affects Larissa?

You don't?

You're a fool.

She's Strelnikov's wife.

Why do you think they haven't arrested her?
Do you think that's the usual practice?

Why do you think they had her watched
at Yuryatin? They were waiting for Strelnikov.

If they thought he'd come running
to his wife, they didn't know him.

They knew him well enough. He was only
five miles from here when they caught him.

He was arrested on the open road.
He didn't conceal his identity.

Indeed throughout the entire interview...

he insisted they call him
Pavel Antipov which is his right name

and refused to answer to
the name of "Strelnikov."

On his way to execution, he took a pistol
from one of the guards and blew his own brains out.

Oh, my God!

Don't tell Lara this.

I think I know Lara at least
as well as you.

But don't you see her position?
She's served her purpose.

These men who came today as an escort will
come for her and the child tomorrow as a firing squad.

Now I know exactly what you
think of me, and why.

But if you're not coming with
me, she's not coming with me.

So are you coming with me?

Do you accept the protection of this
ignoble Caliban on any terms he makes?

Or is your delicacy so exorbitant...

that you would sacrifice a
woman and a child to it?

There's some bags to carry, comrades.

Get in.

Come.

- How many?
= All of us.

- Sorry, not enough room.
- Comrade, there's got to be room.

It's all right. I'll have
to bring our sledge.

Hurry. This train can't wait.
There are important people on it.

You start. I'll catch you up.

We'll see you at...

Hurry!

Well, I'm afraid that's it, my dear.
Your young man's not coming.

You fool.

Did you really think
he would come with you?

The man's an idiot.

- From Mongolia he could've gone to China...
- He'll never leave Russia.

Then let him stay. You've come
with me, haven't you?

Yes.

To be sure, it was your
duty as a mother.

That's right, Victor.

I'm carrying Yuri's child.

I was born out there.
In the Far East somewhere.

I think it was Mongolia.
I don't remember.

You were born in Mongolia.
You were born that very year.

So were a lot of other
children, Comrade General.

Not many called Tonya, bearing
the name Komarov or Komarovsky.

Komarov's a common name.
So is Tonya.

With fair hair, blue eyes, lost at age 8
when civil war broke out in the Far East?

There's something you haven't told
me, Tonya. How did you come to be lost?

- I can't remember!
- I don't believe that. You must remember something!

No!

I'll tell you how I first
met your mother.

- If she was my mother, Comrade General.
- You judge.

I picked my brother up, literally
picked him up, on a Moscow street.

He had a fourth-class ration book
and he was undernourished.

He didn't seem to mind
that or anything.

I thought he was a
happier man than me.

He suffered me to buy
him a new suit...

and to get him a job
at his old hospital.

I saw him off for his
first day's work.

This was eight years
after he and Lara parted.

So he never saw her again?

Thank you. You've
been very kind to me.

He must've known how ill he was.

The walls of his heart
were like paper.

But he kept it to himself.

He kept a lot to himself.

Please.

I was astonished
at the extent of his reputation.

His work was unobtainable
at the time.

It was disapproved of by the Party.

But if people love poetry,
they love poets.

And nobody loves poetry
like a Russian.

Excuse me, comrade.

Are you Yevgraf?

My name is Lara.

I knew her name from the Lara poems
which I'd found among Yuri's manuscripts.

I knew your brother.

I need your help.

She'd come to Moscow
to look for her child.

I helped her as far as I could.

But I knew it was hopeless.

I think I was a little in love with her.

One day she went away
and didn't come back.

She died or vanished somewhere...

in one of the labor camps.

A nameless number on a list
that was afterwards mislaid.

That was quite common in those days.

Tonya.

How did you come to be lost?

- We were running in a street.
- We?

- My father.
- Not your father. Komarovsky.

I don't know!

The street was on fire.

There were explosions
and houses were falling down.

He let go of my hand!

He let go of my hand.

And I was lost.

Would your father have done that?

Oh, yes. People will do anything.

It was Komarovsky.

This man was your father.

Why won't you believe it?

Don't you want to believe it?

Not if it isn't true.

That's inherited.

Comrade General, when I was
a child, I wanted parents.

You can imagine how
I wanted parents.

I wanted to die when
I was a child.

You know?

Now I don't know.

I can't be of any use
to them now, can I?

I was hoping I might be
of some use to you.

- Will you think about it?
- Yes.

It's all right, David.

You work here?

Yes, I'm an operator.

- And what do you operate?
- That.

You've promised to think about it.

Tonya!

Can you play the balalaika?

Can she play? She's an artist!

An artist? Who taught you?

No one taught her.

Then it's a gift.