Demons (2014–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - Episode #1.4 - full transcript
TV CHANNEL RUSSIA
with the support of Ministry of
Culture of the Russian Federation
5
THE YEAR OF CULTURE
TV CHANNEL RUSSIA
"NON-STOP PRODUCTION"
FILM COMPANY
PRESENT
It's Fomka who's killed him.
It's Fomka.
It's him, no one else.
A Shpigulin man.
No doubt, they quarreled because of
the money that Fedka had hidden.
The money he stole from
the late Lebyadkin.
To the police station...
DEMONS
Based on F.M. Dostoyevsky's novel
a VLADIMIR KHOTINENKO film
Part Four
MAXIM MATVEYEV
ANTON SHAGIN
SERGEY MAKOVETSKY
VLADIMIR ZAITSEV
YEVGENY TKACHUK
ALEKSEI KIRSANOV
MARIA LUGOVAYA
IVANNA PETROVA
NADEZHDA MARKINA
IGOR KOSTOLEVSKY
BORIS KAMORZIN
MARIA SHALAYEVA
ALEKSANDR GALIBIN
NATALYA KURDYUBOVA
NATASHA SHVETS
OLEG VASILKOV
YURI POGREBNICHKO
as TIKHON
screenplay by
NATALYA NAZAROVA
VLADIMIR KHOTINENKO
director of photography
DENIS ALARCON RAMIREZ R.G.C.
production designer
VLADIMIR GUDILIN
costume designers
DMITRI ANDREYEV
VLADIMIR NIKIFOROV
music by
ALEKSEI AIGI
producers
ANTON ZLATOPOLSKY
ALEKSANDR RODNYANSKY
producers
YEKATERINA YEFANOVA
SERGEY MELKUMOV
directed by
VLADIMIR KHOTINENKO
The lady herself said
Voznesensky Street,
and this one is Bogoyavlensky.
Voznesensky bystreet is over there!
Voznesensky, Bogoyavlensky...
you should know these stupid names!
Who is there?
If you are Shatov, then tell me
straight out and honestly, as always,
are you ready to let me in or not?
Marie, is that you?
It's me, Marya Shatova,
and I assure you
that I cannot keep the driver
any longer!
I'm coming!
Here, your thirty kopecks,
and you won't get from me
a kopeck more...
- Sir, you ought to add some.
- Don't dare do it!
Don't worry... Come on in.
I've only put the horse
into a steam.
To the left here.
Come in, right here...
- Are you cold?
- No.
I won't stay long at your place,
only until I find work.
But if I shall be in your way,
be so good as to tell me so
at once,
you are bound to do so
if only you're an honest man.
At once I can sell something
to pay for a hotel...
What hotel, Marie? Why?
What for?
Don't forget, Shatov: we were
married for two weeks,
And it's 3 years since we parted,
without any particular quarrel though.
But I have no intention
to renew anything.
I've come to look for work in this town,
only because it's all the same to me.
- Very well...
- And if I came straight to you,
it's only because I always thought
that you were much better
than other
scoundrels. Oh, I am tired.
Tired? Marie...
Wait a minute...
Though, if you'd consent
to have some tea, maybe?
- Yes...
- Yes.
I would consent, why wouldn't I.
You're still such a child.
It's cramped and cold here.
There's some firewood, so...
Though, tea first.
Don't you have tea in the house?
I do. It's coming.
Kirillov! I need tea!
Give me the samovar!
My wife has come back!
Can you imagine?
Take everything...
The teapot is hot, boiling hot.
Take everything - sugar... bread.
Come on! There's plenty of bread.
There's veal!
Take it all! And I have a ruble!
Give it to me, I'll pay you back,
twice as much!
Take the candle! It's dark!
Kirillov, if only you could get rid
of your dreadful fantasies
and give up those atheistic ravings...
what man you would be, Kirillov!
Shatov, it's me!
You have to hand the printing press
over to Liputin tomorrow at 7 PM.
I'll come to pick you up at six,
and you will show me the place.
And something else...
I was instructed to tell you that
nothing more will ever be asked of you.
Nothing?
And never.
And Verkhovensky...
will he be there?
No.
He's duped all of us and ran away.
No... He's still here.
He's leaving tomorrow. I asked
him to be present as a witness,
but he did not agree.
I buried the printing press
in Stavrogin's park.
In the grotto.
Go now. Forward march!
Tomorrow at 6 PM.
Dummy...
What?
Nothing. Go.
I thought you said something.
I fell asleep on your bed.
How dared you not to wake
me up?
Marie, how could I wake you?
You could... You had to.
- What is it?
- Go to sleep.
Marie, do you feel bad?
Are you ill? What?
- I'll run for Doctor Frenzel!
- What?!
If it's your stomach,
I can give you fomentations.
- You need a doctor...
- No, no doctor.
Go, don't look at me.
Keep walking, say something.
Tell me what you're doing...
what you're preaching.
Yes... I'm preaching God.
Yes, of course.
Preaching God, in whom
you don't believe.
I'm preaching Him
for the sake of faith...
What is it...
- Preaching for the sake of faith.
- What is it?
- Marie, I don't know how I can help...
- Don't you see that it has begun?
What's begun?
Don't you see
that I'm in agonies of childbirth?
Oh, may this child be cursed!
- Wait!
- Where're you going? No!
- I'll bring a midwife!
- No midwife!
I don't want any midwife.
- Just an old woman.
- I can't do it myself!
Just an old woman.
If I die, so much the better.
- Who is there?
- It's me! Shatov.
My wife has returned to me,
and she is in childbirth now.
I've come for Arina Prokhorovna,
and I won't leave without her.
- Your wife has come to you?
- Yes, she has, and she's in childbirth.
But don't worry, I'll pay
for everything!
I always thought highly of
Marya Ignatyevna's independent views.
Though she may
not remember me.
Do you have all
the necessary things?
No! But I'll get them!
Just come! Everything will be there!
Open up, Lyamshin!
Or I'll knock the window out!
Here's the revolver!
Take it back and give me
fifteen rubles.
Are you drunk?
Give me fifteen rubles now,
or I'll break your window frame!
For God's sake, don't knock!
Why need money at night
if you're not drunk?
My wife has come back to me.
I've taken ten rubles off the price,
I need this money very much.
How can it be?
You no longer live with your wife.
I'm going to break your skull
right now!
My wife is in agony,
I need the money.
But I don't want to take
the revolver back.
You bought the thing,
and it's over.
Ten rubles now... tomorrow the other
five. Only be quick. Please!
No, five rubles the day after tomorrow.
I swear I shan't have it tomorrow.
- Give me ten at least.
- And don't come again!
But it's only five!
I can't give more, I swear,
for the life of me.
You scoundrel!
Wait!
Tell me, is it true?
- What is it now?
- Your wife has come back to you?
Fool!
Fool!!!
Push!
- I can't!
- Push, you fool!
Or I'll kill you myself!
I can't!
A boy!
A beautiful boy!
And a strong one...
May I?
He's so small...
So pretty...
You see...
There were two, and suddenly
there's a third...
human being! He's crying!
A new spirit,
finished and complete.
Unlike the work of human hands.
It's even frightening.
And there's nothing more divine
in the world.
To listen to you,
every fly is a mystery.
But superfluous people
ought not to be born.
You'll take him to an orphanage
tomorrow.
I'll never take him to an orphanage.
Are you adopting him?
He is...
my son!
Oh, I'm laughing!
You've given me something
to laugh at
for the rest of my life.
So I won't take any money
from you.
I will laugh even in my sleep.
There you go...
Good...
Is it better?
Come here.
Sit with me.
Nikolai Stavrogin is a scoundrel...
It's all over...
All the old madness, shame
and deadness are over.
We shall work.
I shall work.
We will be happy!
Forever!
Kirillov says that all people
are good,
only they don't know it.
And he is right!
A thousand times right...
Oh God, how good people are.
And there is God...
There is!
Oh, I completely forgot about you...
- I'll wait.
- Just a minute.
Where are you going?
I need to, it's the very last step.
- No...
- And then there's a new life!
And we'll never think
of the old horrors again.
Wait. Don't go.
Don't worry.
I'll be back soon.
If I'm not mistaken, first the printing
press will be handed over?
Yes, of course.
Why should we lose things?
I know...
that Shatov's wife has come back
and given birth to a child.
We can be sure
he would not inform now,
because he is happy...
If you, Mr. Virginsky,
suddenly became happy,
would you put off
a civic action
which you regarded
as your duty and obligation?
No, I wouldn't put it off!
Not on any account!
Then you should know that Shatov
considers his betrayal as
a civic duty.
And I don't see any happiness
in the fact that his wife
has come back after 3 years' absence
to bear him someone else's child.
But no one has seen his letter
of betrayal.
This is the utter stupidity!
Damn it, it's stupid, gentlemen!
Risking our common cause on
his word of honor?
No one of you has the right
to give up this job.
I too have come here
to protest against
the projected enterprise.
I am leaving.
And not from fear of the danger,
nor from the sentiments
I am having towards Shatov,
but solely because all this is
in contradiction to my program.
We should have taken a cab.
A cabman is a witness, too.
I don't care. I only wish to end
with it as soon as possible.
And, finally... I assure you
that if I meet Shatov,
I even may bow to him,
but I shall not warn him.
Have you ever been happy?
Erkel?
You seem to be
very happy right now.
That's where I buried it!
At this very place.
Where is the spade?
- Well, enough!
- Hold him.
What are you doing?
You can't do that!
You can't...
You can't...
It's not the right thing.
Not the right thing...
It's not the right thing.
No, it's not right at all!
Calm yourselves, gentlemen!
Calm down!
- Calm down!
- Hold him!
Quiet...
Quiet...
It's very strange.
I expected something very
different from him.
And now we shall part, gentlemen.
No doubt, each of you has to feel
that free pride
linked to the execution
of your freely chosen duty.
And don't even think of
slipping away somewhere...
Murdered...
No one will betray us now,
they won't dare.
Or I'll...
What wretched people
they are though!
Well, what now...
If I am late,
it's not for you to complain.
I made you a present of three hours.
You... can't give me presents.
You fool!
And the tea is cold...
Oh, boiled chicken!
Eat it if you can.
You're stinking of something.
I will dictate,
just a few lines.
That Shatov and you distributed
the manifestos,
and with the help of Fedka...
His wife has come back to him.
She's waked and sent here for him.
Where's he?
No one must know that I'm here.
She won't know, she went back
to sleep.
And if Shatov comes,
I'll hide you in the other room.
Shatov will not come...
And you will write that you quarreled
because of his betrayal and informing.
You have killed him?
Kirillov, it had to end so.
Is it because he spit in your face
in Geneva?
You know, you ran a risk...
I won't write that I've killed Shatov,
I won't write anything now!
I want you to go away!
No, that's impossible!
I won't leave till I blow up
your brains
in case you're afraid to do
it yourself, damn you!
I'm sorry for Shatov.
- But I'm sorry, too.
- Shut up, you scoundrel! I'll kill you!
I want to kill myself...
All are scoundrels,
and I am a scoundrel like you!
I agree... But you know,
that's only words.
All my life I didn't want it
to be only words.
God is necessary, and so
He must exist.
Wonderful. If you shoot yourself,
you'll become God, isn't it so?
But I know He doesn't exist
and can't exist.
That's more likely.
You ape, you only assent
to subjugate me!
- I'm always glad to please you.
- Hold your tongue...
If there is no God...
then I am God!
This point of yours
I could never understand -
why are you God?
Man has always been inventing
a God for himself.
Only I, in the whole world's history,
never followed this path.
I'm very unhappy
and very afraid.
But I must believe
that I don't believe.
I will begin,
and I will make an end.
I will open the door, and I will save...
Only this will save mankind
and recreate the next
generation physically!
For three years I've been looking
for the proof, and I've found it.
The attribute of my Supreme Being...
It's self-will!
Give me the pen! Dictate!
I'll sign everything!
That I've killed Shatov, I'll sign it.
Dictate as long as I'm amused!
I, Aleksei Kirillov, declare...
Wait! I don't want it.
To whom am I declaring it?
- I want to know. To whom?
- To no one; to everyone;
to the first one who reads it.
To the whole world!
Bravo! To the whole world!
I won't have any repentance.
I don't want to repent!
Write it if you're serious!
I want to put on the top a face
with the tongue out!
What nonsense! You can express it
all without a drawing - just by tone.
By tone? It's good.
Dictate the tone to me! The tone!
I, Aleksei Kirillov, declare...
That yesterday, at eight o'clock
in the evening,
I killed the student Shatov
in the park
for his treachery and for
his informing about Fedka.
Fedka...
Who had been lodging with us
in the Filippov house
where he spent ten nights.
I am killing myself today
from a revolver not because
I repent
and am afraid of you,
but because...
I had an intention to end my life
when I was abroad.
Is that all?
Not another word!
Wait! It's nonsense!
I don't want to...
I want to know with whom
I killed him! Why Fedka?
And the fire! I want to abuse
by tone too!
Why are you staring like that?
Sign it!
No, I want to abuse more...
I want to abuse.
Sign it: Vive la république, and that
will be enough. It's great as it is.
Bravo!
What a disgusting smell...
Vive la république démocratique,
sociale et universelle ou la mort!..
No, that's not it!
Liberté,
égalité...
ou la mort!
He won't shoot himself...
What rotten people they are!
Now, now...
Is there anybody here?
Mister Kirillov?
They killed him...
They killed him!
They killed him!!!
They killed him!
Killed him...
You've been seen with Verkhovensky.
Yes, my dear.
Were you seeing him off?
So what?
He doesn't understand...
Did he tell you where he
was going?
Is it true that long ago
Shatov spit in Verkhovensky's face?
You don't wish to speak to us?
Sir, you'd better ask questions
I would want to answer.
Ten people have perished
in the town
since you began playing
those games of yours...
Shatov's wife and her child, though
indirectly, are on your conscience too.
Don't you feel sorry for anyone?
I'm sorry...
I feel sorry for all of them.
To the point of tears.
Be sure to write it down
in the protocol.
You don't feel sorry for anyone,
you whelp...
Sitting here and grinning... Never
mind, you'll go to penal servitude.
That's where you'll know what 'sorry'
means. They'll teach you to be sorry.
Write: to these words the person
under investigation responded
with a smirk.
Your mother is dying.
Do you know that,
mister Jolly Fellow?
- You're saying it on purpose...
- "On purpose" is your department.
She's dying and calling for
her son.
We would let you go to say goodbye
to her, we are not some monsters.
But your attitude to
the investigation is such
that we can't possibly let you go.
Let her die.
She is old.
It's time.
Andrei!
- Take him away!
- Come on!
A psycho...
This mother's darling is the most
insensitive one of the murderers.
And I'm sure that killing
poor Shatov,
he didn't feel any personal hatred
towards him,
unlike Verkhovensky...
Oh, these fighters for the happiness
of peoples are conceited
so pettily, like small shopkeepers.
Ivan Lvovich... shopkeepers,
grain merchants will accomplish
the revolution if it ever happens,
but with the hands of romantics.
So, this Erkel is a romantic, too...
Pyotr Stepanovich, it'd be better
if you were not going away!
I won't be long there, I'll be right
back.
Tell me, is it true that there is
only one quintet in Russia?
Oh, it doesn't matter now:
one quintet or a thousand.
Pyotr Stepanovich...
I understand...
You should take care of
your personality,
you're everything and we're nothing.
- I understand everything.
- Ouch, you've touched my bad finger!
If I stay longer there,
I'll let you know at once.
I feel calm for you
though I leave you with
those freaks.
Don't you worry;
they won't inform,
they won't dare to... Well, Erkel,
goodbye!
Pyotr Stepanovich,
I'll understand everything!
Well, au revoir!
Yes, something else,
here, for keepsake.
Go!
The last time Verkhovensky
was seen
with that scoundrel Erkel...
on the next day after
the murder of Shatov.
He must have run to the capitals.
Or maybe even abroad.
And he is laughing at us,
fools, now.
That's all, we collect all the materials
and send them to Petersburg.
They should be placed on
the wanted list all around Russia.
It's really annoying...
You and I have done all
the work,
and they will take our
figurants and...
make it look so that no one
will ever remember us.
Yes, the provinces, what they can do...
Where are you pasting it?!
Why not paste it even higher,
you dumb head?
So that no one could see it!
Sorry! I didn't calculate right!
I pasted it on the level of the eyes.
This is the level of the eyes!
So paste it here!
Lower...
Go now.
WANTED
STAVROGIN
Ten human souls have been wasted.
And for what?
For just a game, an ephemeral
invention.
It's not so ephemeral,
Ivan Lvovich... Alas.
People often consider common
activity shameful.
And then there begin these
costumed games.
The goings to the people
of the agitated young men and girls
from well-to-do families.
Just think... Young people
respond to the call of a scoundrel,
a vulgar and talentless man. The lack
of talent plus sickly ambitions -
and you get the portrait
of a revolutionary.
That's right, Sir, and yet...
You can't say it about Stavrogin.
He is a gifted man.
I doubt he's a revolutionary.
Well, everything points at him...
I'm not so sure about it.
I'll tell you frankly:
I could never make him out.
Who is that Mr. Stavrogin?
Nikolai Vsevolodovich Stavrogin
has appeared at his estate.
He came secretly
early this morning.
Well, Pavel Dmitriyevich...
Speaking of the devil!
Now you will see who
this Mr. Stavrogin is.
Please...
Darya Pavlovna!
You once expressed a wish
to be my "nurse",
and made me promise to send
for you when need be.
Last year, like Herzen, I got
naturalized as a citizen of Switzerland.
And nobody knows about it.
I already bought
a little house there.
I'm going away in two days.
Will you go with me?
I am not well, but I hope to get rid
of hallucinations in that air.
It's physical.
As for the moral, you know all.
Only do you know all?
My dear friend,
a tender and great heart
which I divined!
I know that I should kill myself,
sweep myself off the earth
like a base insect,
but I'm afraid of suicide,
for I'm afraid to demonstrate
magnanimity.
I know it would be a deception,
the last deception in an endless
series of deceptions...
Darya... do you have
anything special
you would like to tell me?
No...
Nothing.
On your soul, on your heart,
on your conscience?
No, nothing.
Will you go?
I will...
What is there left for me
to do here?
- Varvara Petrovna...
- Yes?
We know for certain that your son,
Nikolai Vsevolodovich,
is here at your estate,
in Skvoreshniki.
- Yes...
- We would like to talk to him.
Nikolai Vsevolodovich!
Nikolai Vsevolodovich!
I'll go and look in the outhouse.
Go and look.
I, Nikolai Stavrogin,
a retired officer,
lived then in Petersburg,
abandoned to vice,
in which I found no pleasure.
On that day, I was receiving
Nina Savelyevna,
the maid of a lady who loved me.
Ninochka, you should warn me
beforehand of your visit.
Nikolai Vsevolodovich, you know
that I always come like this...
Sensations will be only fresher.
I had only one room then,
which I rented from Russian
petty bourgeois.
They themselves lived in
the adjoining, smaller, room.
I often remained alone with
their daughter,
a 10 or 12-year-old girl,
just a child to look at.
Her name was Matryosha.
Her face looked quite ordinary,
though there was a lot of something
childish and quiet about it.
Extremely quiet...
There were many pots of geranium
on their windowsill.
And the sun was shining brightly.
My heart began to pound.
She looked at me with fixed eyes.
Her lips began to twitch, as though
she was about to cry; but she didn't.
I began to kiss her hands,
then I sat her in my lap.
I kissed her face and feet...
And then something strange happened,
which I'll never forget.
The girl flung her arms round my
neck, and suddenly began kissing me.
I wanted to get up and go away -
so unpleasant it was for me
in such a child.
But I remained, from pity.
What a nice top toy you've got...
When it was over,
she covered her face with
her hands,
and stood motionlessly in
the corner, facing the wall.
I left the house
without saying a word.
Finally, I decided to end with
it all and leave Petersburg.
But when I returned
to give up the room,
I found the landlady
much worried and distressed.
She's delirious...
It's been three days already...
It's so horrible...
"I killed God," she says.
She needs a doctor...
By God's will, it will pass
by itself.
Thank you, Sir...
Thank you.
That's when, for the first time
in my life, I felt fear.
It was the moment of real fear,
though it wasn't very strong.
Nikolai Vsevolodovich...
Will you look after Matryosha?
Please.
I won't be long.
I'll be right back...
All right? Thank you.
The windows were open,
the air was warm, even hot.
I remember everything to
the last minute.
I found it really pleasurable
not to talk to Matryosha,
but to keep her in suspense.
I don't know why...
I was so mean that I was glad
she came out first.
I sat and looked
and did not move.
She began shaking her head
at me,
and suddenly she raised her
tiny fist at me.
She shook her fist and nodded
at me reproachfully.
She went to the window, and stood
there with her back turned to me.
I cannot understand why I did not
leave then, but I remained.
Soon I again heard her quick steps.
I remember everything...
My heart was beating violently.
I took out my watch.
Twenty minutes had passed
since she went out.
And suddenly my heart
began pounding again...
So violently that it ached...
I went to the little storeroom.
At that very moment I recalled how -
sitting by the window in
a reverie watching the geranium -
I had been thinking of how I would
bend and peer into this little window...
At last I saw what I wanted.
I've decided to have these sheets
printed in 300 copies.
When the time is ripe, I'll send it
to the police and the local authorities,
and, simultaneously, to the newspapers,
asking them to make it public.
And at the same time, it will appear
abroad in translation.
I want everybody to look at me.
You've taken the great path,
the rarest path -
to castigate yourself
before the whole world.
But you seem to already hate
and despise all those
who will read what's written here.
Why are you ashamed of repentance?
Am I, really?
Yes, you're ashamed and afraid.
I fear for you.
There's an impassable abyss
in front of you...
And even in the form of this
great repentance,
there's something ridiculous...
You found something ridiculous...
in the form? In the style?
And in the substance.
The ugliness of it will kill it.
Ugliness? What ugliness?
Of the crime.
There are truly ugly crimes,
shameful, disgraceful,
not to speak of all horrors,
inelegant, so to say.
So you find ridiculous that
I kissed
the foot of that dirty girl and...
Everything that I told you.
Yes, I understand.
But Christ will not forgive me.
It's said in your Book that
there's no greater crime
than to "cause one of these
little ones to sin..."
I have glad news for you:
Christ will forgive
if you forgive yourself.
He will forgive you for your intentions,
for your great suffering.
Overcome your desire
and your intentions,
put off your sheets, and then
you will shame your pride
and your demon.
I'm asking for your prayers
to the one you love so much.
What's the matter with you?
Oh, you poor,
poor, lost youth.
You've never been so near
the most horrible crime
than you are at this moment.
The damned psychologist...
And then,
there had been nothing.
Where is that scoundrel?
I'm afraid he is no more.
Lady, I think I saw him...
I'm not going up there.
And why did he meddle?
Dasha, what is there?
Nikolai...
Vsevolodovich...
Kolia...
Kolia...
Kolia!
Just a phantom, Sir...
A typically Russian phantom.
Revolution, Sir,
never changes anything substantially;
it doesn't create anything new.
They just replace the old elements
with the new ones.
They just reveal the diseases that
were lurking in the people's organism.
Being possessed by revolution
is a typically Russian obsession.
It's all religion, Sir.
A religion of a demonic order.
Look at these people,
at their faces.
They are beautiful in a way.
Take Stavrogin, for example.
But how can demons be beautiful?
It is said that the Satan
can appear as the angel of light.
You are a mystic...
I've been warned.
"Misticos" means inexplicable.
In essence, all the
Russian Orthodoxy is mystical,
for it has to do with a mystery.
God is a mystery.
And man is a mystery.
And what was in those sheets
that Stavrogin had brought you?
That's the mystery...
I can only say
that it could have become
the greatest Christian feat,
if he could only stand it.
I can't keep you any longer.
And I...
I myself am doubting.
Everyone has doubts.
But I don't believe at all.
You say it's the demons...
I don't believe in demons either.
No one should believe in demons.
Do you believe in God?
I wish I would...
Here, Sir. My wife has sent it.
The bear's fat.
You should take one or two spoonfuls
three times a day,
an hour before your meal.
You'll take it for a month...
then a break.
She wrote it down in detail here.
Here's the wine...
honey... pies and apples.
- Oh, you shouldn't have.
- Well, how else?
I'm doing it exclusively
for the state,
because people like you
must be taken care of.
Yes.
And you, sir, don't forget us too.
When you're in Petersburg,
put in a word for us.
It's nothing for you,
and for us it's a comfort.
I think that these four will be soon
summoned to Petersburg,
so you can come there too.
- Goodbye.
- God bless you, Sir.
- May your guardian angel save you.
- Thank you.
Good news... The Holy Scripture.
Sir, the New Testament
with pictures and without,
for adults and children.
Will you buy it?
Later...
Go!
Later will be too late.
FIVE YEARS LATER
Nicolas, take the scarf.
It's chilly here.
with the support of Ministry of
Culture of the Russian Federation
5
THE YEAR OF CULTURE
TV CHANNEL RUSSIA
"NON-STOP PRODUCTION"
FILM COMPANY
PRESENT
It's Fomka who's killed him.
It's Fomka.
It's him, no one else.
A Shpigulin man.
No doubt, they quarreled because of
the money that Fedka had hidden.
The money he stole from
the late Lebyadkin.
To the police station...
DEMONS
Based on F.M. Dostoyevsky's novel
a VLADIMIR KHOTINENKO film
Part Four
MAXIM MATVEYEV
ANTON SHAGIN
SERGEY MAKOVETSKY
VLADIMIR ZAITSEV
YEVGENY TKACHUK
ALEKSEI KIRSANOV
MARIA LUGOVAYA
IVANNA PETROVA
NADEZHDA MARKINA
IGOR KOSTOLEVSKY
BORIS KAMORZIN
MARIA SHALAYEVA
ALEKSANDR GALIBIN
NATALYA KURDYUBOVA
NATASHA SHVETS
OLEG VASILKOV
YURI POGREBNICHKO
as TIKHON
screenplay by
NATALYA NAZAROVA
VLADIMIR KHOTINENKO
director of photography
DENIS ALARCON RAMIREZ R.G.C.
production designer
VLADIMIR GUDILIN
costume designers
DMITRI ANDREYEV
VLADIMIR NIKIFOROV
music by
ALEKSEI AIGI
producers
ANTON ZLATOPOLSKY
ALEKSANDR RODNYANSKY
producers
YEKATERINA YEFANOVA
SERGEY MELKUMOV
directed by
VLADIMIR KHOTINENKO
The lady herself said
Voznesensky Street,
and this one is Bogoyavlensky.
Voznesensky bystreet is over there!
Voznesensky, Bogoyavlensky...
you should know these stupid names!
Who is there?
If you are Shatov, then tell me
straight out and honestly, as always,
are you ready to let me in or not?
Marie, is that you?
It's me, Marya Shatova,
and I assure you
that I cannot keep the driver
any longer!
I'm coming!
Here, your thirty kopecks,
and you won't get from me
a kopeck more...
- Sir, you ought to add some.
- Don't dare do it!
Don't worry... Come on in.
I've only put the horse
into a steam.
To the left here.
Come in, right here...
- Are you cold?
- No.
I won't stay long at your place,
only until I find work.
But if I shall be in your way,
be so good as to tell me so
at once,
you are bound to do so
if only you're an honest man.
At once I can sell something
to pay for a hotel...
What hotel, Marie? Why?
What for?
Don't forget, Shatov: we were
married for two weeks,
And it's 3 years since we parted,
without any particular quarrel though.
But I have no intention
to renew anything.
I've come to look for work in this town,
only because it's all the same to me.
- Very well...
- And if I came straight to you,
it's only because I always thought
that you were much better
than other
scoundrels. Oh, I am tired.
Tired? Marie...
Wait a minute...
Though, if you'd consent
to have some tea, maybe?
- Yes...
- Yes.
I would consent, why wouldn't I.
You're still such a child.
It's cramped and cold here.
There's some firewood, so...
Though, tea first.
Don't you have tea in the house?
I do. It's coming.
Kirillov! I need tea!
Give me the samovar!
My wife has come back!
Can you imagine?
Take everything...
The teapot is hot, boiling hot.
Take everything - sugar... bread.
Come on! There's plenty of bread.
There's veal!
Take it all! And I have a ruble!
Give it to me, I'll pay you back,
twice as much!
Take the candle! It's dark!
Kirillov, if only you could get rid
of your dreadful fantasies
and give up those atheistic ravings...
what man you would be, Kirillov!
Shatov, it's me!
You have to hand the printing press
over to Liputin tomorrow at 7 PM.
I'll come to pick you up at six,
and you will show me the place.
And something else...
I was instructed to tell you that
nothing more will ever be asked of you.
Nothing?
And never.
And Verkhovensky...
will he be there?
No.
He's duped all of us and ran away.
No... He's still here.
He's leaving tomorrow. I asked
him to be present as a witness,
but he did not agree.
I buried the printing press
in Stavrogin's park.
In the grotto.
Go now. Forward march!
Tomorrow at 6 PM.
Dummy...
What?
Nothing. Go.
I thought you said something.
I fell asleep on your bed.
How dared you not to wake
me up?
Marie, how could I wake you?
You could... You had to.
- What is it?
- Go to sleep.
Marie, do you feel bad?
Are you ill? What?
- I'll run for Doctor Frenzel!
- What?!
If it's your stomach,
I can give you fomentations.
- You need a doctor...
- No, no doctor.
Go, don't look at me.
Keep walking, say something.
Tell me what you're doing...
what you're preaching.
Yes... I'm preaching God.
Yes, of course.
Preaching God, in whom
you don't believe.
I'm preaching Him
for the sake of faith...
What is it...
- Preaching for the sake of faith.
- What is it?
- Marie, I don't know how I can help...
- Don't you see that it has begun?
What's begun?
Don't you see
that I'm in agonies of childbirth?
Oh, may this child be cursed!
- Wait!
- Where're you going? No!
- I'll bring a midwife!
- No midwife!
I don't want any midwife.
- Just an old woman.
- I can't do it myself!
Just an old woman.
If I die, so much the better.
- Who is there?
- It's me! Shatov.
My wife has returned to me,
and she is in childbirth now.
I've come for Arina Prokhorovna,
and I won't leave without her.
- Your wife has come to you?
- Yes, she has, and she's in childbirth.
But don't worry, I'll pay
for everything!
I always thought highly of
Marya Ignatyevna's independent views.
Though she may
not remember me.
Do you have all
the necessary things?
No! But I'll get them!
Just come! Everything will be there!
Open up, Lyamshin!
Or I'll knock the window out!
Here's the revolver!
Take it back and give me
fifteen rubles.
Are you drunk?
Give me fifteen rubles now,
or I'll break your window frame!
For God's sake, don't knock!
Why need money at night
if you're not drunk?
My wife has come back to me.
I've taken ten rubles off the price,
I need this money very much.
How can it be?
You no longer live with your wife.
I'm going to break your skull
right now!
My wife is in agony,
I need the money.
But I don't want to take
the revolver back.
You bought the thing,
and it's over.
Ten rubles now... tomorrow the other
five. Only be quick. Please!
No, five rubles the day after tomorrow.
I swear I shan't have it tomorrow.
- Give me ten at least.
- And don't come again!
But it's only five!
I can't give more, I swear,
for the life of me.
You scoundrel!
Wait!
Tell me, is it true?
- What is it now?
- Your wife has come back to you?
Fool!
Fool!!!
Push!
- I can't!
- Push, you fool!
Or I'll kill you myself!
I can't!
A boy!
A beautiful boy!
And a strong one...
May I?
He's so small...
So pretty...
You see...
There were two, and suddenly
there's a third...
human being! He's crying!
A new spirit,
finished and complete.
Unlike the work of human hands.
It's even frightening.
And there's nothing more divine
in the world.
To listen to you,
every fly is a mystery.
But superfluous people
ought not to be born.
You'll take him to an orphanage
tomorrow.
I'll never take him to an orphanage.
Are you adopting him?
He is...
my son!
Oh, I'm laughing!
You've given me something
to laugh at
for the rest of my life.
So I won't take any money
from you.
I will laugh even in my sleep.
There you go...
Good...
Is it better?
Come here.
Sit with me.
Nikolai Stavrogin is a scoundrel...
It's all over...
All the old madness, shame
and deadness are over.
We shall work.
I shall work.
We will be happy!
Forever!
Kirillov says that all people
are good,
only they don't know it.
And he is right!
A thousand times right...
Oh God, how good people are.
And there is God...
There is!
Oh, I completely forgot about you...
- I'll wait.
- Just a minute.
Where are you going?
I need to, it's the very last step.
- No...
- And then there's a new life!
And we'll never think
of the old horrors again.
Wait. Don't go.
Don't worry.
I'll be back soon.
If I'm not mistaken, first the printing
press will be handed over?
Yes, of course.
Why should we lose things?
I know...
that Shatov's wife has come back
and given birth to a child.
We can be sure
he would not inform now,
because he is happy...
If you, Mr. Virginsky,
suddenly became happy,
would you put off
a civic action
which you regarded
as your duty and obligation?
No, I wouldn't put it off!
Not on any account!
Then you should know that Shatov
considers his betrayal as
a civic duty.
And I don't see any happiness
in the fact that his wife
has come back after 3 years' absence
to bear him someone else's child.
But no one has seen his letter
of betrayal.
This is the utter stupidity!
Damn it, it's stupid, gentlemen!
Risking our common cause on
his word of honor?
No one of you has the right
to give up this job.
I too have come here
to protest against
the projected enterprise.
I am leaving.
And not from fear of the danger,
nor from the sentiments
I am having towards Shatov,
but solely because all this is
in contradiction to my program.
We should have taken a cab.
A cabman is a witness, too.
I don't care. I only wish to end
with it as soon as possible.
And, finally... I assure you
that if I meet Shatov,
I even may bow to him,
but I shall not warn him.
Have you ever been happy?
Erkel?
You seem to be
very happy right now.
That's where I buried it!
At this very place.
Where is the spade?
- Well, enough!
- Hold him.
What are you doing?
You can't do that!
You can't...
You can't...
It's not the right thing.
Not the right thing...
It's not the right thing.
No, it's not right at all!
Calm yourselves, gentlemen!
Calm down!
- Calm down!
- Hold him!
Quiet...
Quiet...
It's very strange.
I expected something very
different from him.
And now we shall part, gentlemen.
No doubt, each of you has to feel
that free pride
linked to the execution
of your freely chosen duty.
And don't even think of
slipping away somewhere...
Murdered...
No one will betray us now,
they won't dare.
Or I'll...
What wretched people
they are though!
Well, what now...
If I am late,
it's not for you to complain.
I made you a present of three hours.
You... can't give me presents.
You fool!
And the tea is cold...
Oh, boiled chicken!
Eat it if you can.
You're stinking of something.
I will dictate,
just a few lines.
That Shatov and you distributed
the manifestos,
and with the help of Fedka...
His wife has come back to him.
She's waked and sent here for him.
Where's he?
No one must know that I'm here.
She won't know, she went back
to sleep.
And if Shatov comes,
I'll hide you in the other room.
Shatov will not come...
And you will write that you quarreled
because of his betrayal and informing.
You have killed him?
Kirillov, it had to end so.
Is it because he spit in your face
in Geneva?
You know, you ran a risk...
I won't write that I've killed Shatov,
I won't write anything now!
I want you to go away!
No, that's impossible!
I won't leave till I blow up
your brains
in case you're afraid to do
it yourself, damn you!
I'm sorry for Shatov.
- But I'm sorry, too.
- Shut up, you scoundrel! I'll kill you!
I want to kill myself...
All are scoundrels,
and I am a scoundrel like you!
I agree... But you know,
that's only words.
All my life I didn't want it
to be only words.
God is necessary, and so
He must exist.
Wonderful. If you shoot yourself,
you'll become God, isn't it so?
But I know He doesn't exist
and can't exist.
That's more likely.
You ape, you only assent
to subjugate me!
- I'm always glad to please you.
- Hold your tongue...
If there is no God...
then I am God!
This point of yours
I could never understand -
why are you God?
Man has always been inventing
a God for himself.
Only I, in the whole world's history,
never followed this path.
I'm very unhappy
and very afraid.
But I must believe
that I don't believe.
I will begin,
and I will make an end.
I will open the door, and I will save...
Only this will save mankind
and recreate the next
generation physically!
For three years I've been looking
for the proof, and I've found it.
The attribute of my Supreme Being...
It's self-will!
Give me the pen! Dictate!
I'll sign everything!
That I've killed Shatov, I'll sign it.
Dictate as long as I'm amused!
I, Aleksei Kirillov, declare...
Wait! I don't want it.
To whom am I declaring it?
- I want to know. To whom?
- To no one; to everyone;
to the first one who reads it.
To the whole world!
Bravo! To the whole world!
I won't have any repentance.
I don't want to repent!
Write it if you're serious!
I want to put on the top a face
with the tongue out!
What nonsense! You can express it
all without a drawing - just by tone.
By tone? It's good.
Dictate the tone to me! The tone!
I, Aleksei Kirillov, declare...
That yesterday, at eight o'clock
in the evening,
I killed the student Shatov
in the park
for his treachery and for
his informing about Fedka.
Fedka...
Who had been lodging with us
in the Filippov house
where he spent ten nights.
I am killing myself today
from a revolver not because
I repent
and am afraid of you,
but because...
I had an intention to end my life
when I was abroad.
Is that all?
Not another word!
Wait! It's nonsense!
I don't want to...
I want to know with whom
I killed him! Why Fedka?
And the fire! I want to abuse
by tone too!
Why are you staring like that?
Sign it!
No, I want to abuse more...
I want to abuse.
Sign it: Vive la république, and that
will be enough. It's great as it is.
Bravo!
What a disgusting smell...
Vive la république démocratique,
sociale et universelle ou la mort!..
No, that's not it!
Liberté,
égalité...
ou la mort!
He won't shoot himself...
What rotten people they are!
Now, now...
Is there anybody here?
Mister Kirillov?
They killed him...
They killed him!
They killed him!!!
They killed him!
Killed him...
You've been seen with Verkhovensky.
Yes, my dear.
Were you seeing him off?
So what?
He doesn't understand...
Did he tell you where he
was going?
Is it true that long ago
Shatov spit in Verkhovensky's face?
You don't wish to speak to us?
Sir, you'd better ask questions
I would want to answer.
Ten people have perished
in the town
since you began playing
those games of yours...
Shatov's wife and her child, though
indirectly, are on your conscience too.
Don't you feel sorry for anyone?
I'm sorry...
I feel sorry for all of them.
To the point of tears.
Be sure to write it down
in the protocol.
You don't feel sorry for anyone,
you whelp...
Sitting here and grinning... Never
mind, you'll go to penal servitude.
That's where you'll know what 'sorry'
means. They'll teach you to be sorry.
Write: to these words the person
under investigation responded
with a smirk.
Your mother is dying.
Do you know that,
mister Jolly Fellow?
- You're saying it on purpose...
- "On purpose" is your department.
She's dying and calling for
her son.
We would let you go to say goodbye
to her, we are not some monsters.
But your attitude to
the investigation is such
that we can't possibly let you go.
Let her die.
She is old.
It's time.
Andrei!
- Take him away!
- Come on!
A psycho...
This mother's darling is the most
insensitive one of the murderers.
And I'm sure that killing
poor Shatov,
he didn't feel any personal hatred
towards him,
unlike Verkhovensky...
Oh, these fighters for the happiness
of peoples are conceited
so pettily, like small shopkeepers.
Ivan Lvovich... shopkeepers,
grain merchants will accomplish
the revolution if it ever happens,
but with the hands of romantics.
So, this Erkel is a romantic, too...
Pyotr Stepanovich, it'd be better
if you were not going away!
I won't be long there, I'll be right
back.
Tell me, is it true that there is
only one quintet in Russia?
Oh, it doesn't matter now:
one quintet or a thousand.
Pyotr Stepanovich...
I understand...
You should take care of
your personality,
you're everything and we're nothing.
- I understand everything.
- Ouch, you've touched my bad finger!
If I stay longer there,
I'll let you know at once.
I feel calm for you
though I leave you with
those freaks.
Don't you worry;
they won't inform,
they won't dare to... Well, Erkel,
goodbye!
Pyotr Stepanovich,
I'll understand everything!
Well, au revoir!
Yes, something else,
here, for keepsake.
Go!
The last time Verkhovensky
was seen
with that scoundrel Erkel...
on the next day after
the murder of Shatov.
He must have run to the capitals.
Or maybe even abroad.
And he is laughing at us,
fools, now.
That's all, we collect all the materials
and send them to Petersburg.
They should be placed on
the wanted list all around Russia.
It's really annoying...
You and I have done all
the work,
and they will take our
figurants and...
make it look so that no one
will ever remember us.
Yes, the provinces, what they can do...
Where are you pasting it?!
Why not paste it even higher,
you dumb head?
So that no one could see it!
Sorry! I didn't calculate right!
I pasted it on the level of the eyes.
This is the level of the eyes!
So paste it here!
Lower...
Go now.
WANTED
STAVROGIN
Ten human souls have been wasted.
And for what?
For just a game, an ephemeral
invention.
It's not so ephemeral,
Ivan Lvovich... Alas.
People often consider common
activity shameful.
And then there begin these
costumed games.
The goings to the people
of the agitated young men and girls
from well-to-do families.
Just think... Young people
respond to the call of a scoundrel,
a vulgar and talentless man. The lack
of talent plus sickly ambitions -
and you get the portrait
of a revolutionary.
That's right, Sir, and yet...
You can't say it about Stavrogin.
He is a gifted man.
I doubt he's a revolutionary.
Well, everything points at him...
I'm not so sure about it.
I'll tell you frankly:
I could never make him out.
Who is that Mr. Stavrogin?
Nikolai Vsevolodovich Stavrogin
has appeared at his estate.
He came secretly
early this morning.
Well, Pavel Dmitriyevich...
Speaking of the devil!
Now you will see who
this Mr. Stavrogin is.
Please...
Darya Pavlovna!
You once expressed a wish
to be my "nurse",
and made me promise to send
for you when need be.
Last year, like Herzen, I got
naturalized as a citizen of Switzerland.
And nobody knows about it.
I already bought
a little house there.
I'm going away in two days.
Will you go with me?
I am not well, but I hope to get rid
of hallucinations in that air.
It's physical.
As for the moral, you know all.
Only do you know all?
My dear friend,
a tender and great heart
which I divined!
I know that I should kill myself,
sweep myself off the earth
like a base insect,
but I'm afraid of suicide,
for I'm afraid to demonstrate
magnanimity.
I know it would be a deception,
the last deception in an endless
series of deceptions...
Darya... do you have
anything special
you would like to tell me?
No...
Nothing.
On your soul, on your heart,
on your conscience?
No, nothing.
Will you go?
I will...
What is there left for me
to do here?
- Varvara Petrovna...
- Yes?
We know for certain that your son,
Nikolai Vsevolodovich,
is here at your estate,
in Skvoreshniki.
- Yes...
- We would like to talk to him.
Nikolai Vsevolodovich!
Nikolai Vsevolodovich!
I'll go and look in the outhouse.
Go and look.
I, Nikolai Stavrogin,
a retired officer,
lived then in Petersburg,
abandoned to vice,
in which I found no pleasure.
On that day, I was receiving
Nina Savelyevna,
the maid of a lady who loved me.
Ninochka, you should warn me
beforehand of your visit.
Nikolai Vsevolodovich, you know
that I always come like this...
Sensations will be only fresher.
I had only one room then,
which I rented from Russian
petty bourgeois.
They themselves lived in
the adjoining, smaller, room.
I often remained alone with
their daughter,
a 10 or 12-year-old girl,
just a child to look at.
Her name was Matryosha.
Her face looked quite ordinary,
though there was a lot of something
childish and quiet about it.
Extremely quiet...
There were many pots of geranium
on their windowsill.
And the sun was shining brightly.
My heart began to pound.
She looked at me with fixed eyes.
Her lips began to twitch, as though
she was about to cry; but she didn't.
I began to kiss her hands,
then I sat her in my lap.
I kissed her face and feet...
And then something strange happened,
which I'll never forget.
The girl flung her arms round my
neck, and suddenly began kissing me.
I wanted to get up and go away -
so unpleasant it was for me
in such a child.
But I remained, from pity.
What a nice top toy you've got...
When it was over,
she covered her face with
her hands,
and stood motionlessly in
the corner, facing the wall.
I left the house
without saying a word.
Finally, I decided to end with
it all and leave Petersburg.
But when I returned
to give up the room,
I found the landlady
much worried and distressed.
She's delirious...
It's been three days already...
It's so horrible...
"I killed God," she says.
She needs a doctor...
By God's will, it will pass
by itself.
Thank you, Sir...
Thank you.
That's when, for the first time
in my life, I felt fear.
It was the moment of real fear,
though it wasn't very strong.
Nikolai Vsevolodovich...
Will you look after Matryosha?
Please.
I won't be long.
I'll be right back...
All right? Thank you.
The windows were open,
the air was warm, even hot.
I remember everything to
the last minute.
I found it really pleasurable
not to talk to Matryosha,
but to keep her in suspense.
I don't know why...
I was so mean that I was glad
she came out first.
I sat and looked
and did not move.
She began shaking her head
at me,
and suddenly she raised her
tiny fist at me.
She shook her fist and nodded
at me reproachfully.
She went to the window, and stood
there with her back turned to me.
I cannot understand why I did not
leave then, but I remained.
Soon I again heard her quick steps.
I remember everything...
My heart was beating violently.
I took out my watch.
Twenty minutes had passed
since she went out.
And suddenly my heart
began pounding again...
So violently that it ached...
I went to the little storeroom.
At that very moment I recalled how -
sitting by the window in
a reverie watching the geranium -
I had been thinking of how I would
bend and peer into this little window...
At last I saw what I wanted.
I've decided to have these sheets
printed in 300 copies.
When the time is ripe, I'll send it
to the police and the local authorities,
and, simultaneously, to the newspapers,
asking them to make it public.
And at the same time, it will appear
abroad in translation.
I want everybody to look at me.
You've taken the great path,
the rarest path -
to castigate yourself
before the whole world.
But you seem to already hate
and despise all those
who will read what's written here.
Why are you ashamed of repentance?
Am I, really?
Yes, you're ashamed and afraid.
I fear for you.
There's an impassable abyss
in front of you...
And even in the form of this
great repentance,
there's something ridiculous...
You found something ridiculous...
in the form? In the style?
And in the substance.
The ugliness of it will kill it.
Ugliness? What ugliness?
Of the crime.
There are truly ugly crimes,
shameful, disgraceful,
not to speak of all horrors,
inelegant, so to say.
So you find ridiculous that
I kissed
the foot of that dirty girl and...
Everything that I told you.
Yes, I understand.
But Christ will not forgive me.
It's said in your Book that
there's no greater crime
than to "cause one of these
little ones to sin..."
I have glad news for you:
Christ will forgive
if you forgive yourself.
He will forgive you for your intentions,
for your great suffering.
Overcome your desire
and your intentions,
put off your sheets, and then
you will shame your pride
and your demon.
I'm asking for your prayers
to the one you love so much.
What's the matter with you?
Oh, you poor,
poor, lost youth.
You've never been so near
the most horrible crime
than you are at this moment.
The damned psychologist...
And then,
there had been nothing.
Where is that scoundrel?
I'm afraid he is no more.
Lady, I think I saw him...
I'm not going up there.
And why did he meddle?
Dasha, what is there?
Nikolai...
Vsevolodovich...
Kolia...
Kolia...
Kolia!
Just a phantom, Sir...
A typically Russian phantom.
Revolution, Sir,
never changes anything substantially;
it doesn't create anything new.
They just replace the old elements
with the new ones.
They just reveal the diseases that
were lurking in the people's organism.
Being possessed by revolution
is a typically Russian obsession.
It's all religion, Sir.
A religion of a demonic order.
Look at these people,
at their faces.
They are beautiful in a way.
Take Stavrogin, for example.
But how can demons be beautiful?
It is said that the Satan
can appear as the angel of light.
You are a mystic...
I've been warned.
"Misticos" means inexplicable.
In essence, all the
Russian Orthodoxy is mystical,
for it has to do with a mystery.
God is a mystery.
And man is a mystery.
And what was in those sheets
that Stavrogin had brought you?
That's the mystery...
I can only say
that it could have become
the greatest Christian feat,
if he could only stand it.
I can't keep you any longer.
And I...
I myself am doubting.
Everyone has doubts.
But I don't believe at all.
You say it's the demons...
I don't believe in demons either.
No one should believe in demons.
Do you believe in God?
I wish I would...
Here, Sir. My wife has sent it.
The bear's fat.
You should take one or two spoonfuls
three times a day,
an hour before your meal.
You'll take it for a month...
then a break.
She wrote it down in detail here.
Here's the wine...
honey... pies and apples.
- Oh, you shouldn't have.
- Well, how else?
I'm doing it exclusively
for the state,
because people like you
must be taken care of.
Yes.
And you, sir, don't forget us too.
When you're in Petersburg,
put in a word for us.
It's nothing for you,
and for us it's a comfort.
I think that these four will be soon
summoned to Petersburg,
so you can come there too.
- Goodbye.
- God bless you, Sir.
- May your guardian angel save you.
- Thank you.
Good news... The Holy Scripture.
Sir, the New Testament
with pictures and without,
for adults and children.
Will you buy it?
Later...
Go!
Later will be too late.
FIVE YEARS LATER
Nicolas, take the scarf.
It's chilly here.