Fortunes of War (1987): Season 1, Episode 1 - The Balkans: September 1939 - full transcript
(birds chirping)
(train roaring)
(speaking in foreign language)
(speaking in foreign language)
(speaking in foreign language)
(speaking in foreign language)
(train horn blows)
(train chugging)
(lighthearted music)
(melancholy music)
(speaks in foreign language)
(speaking in foreign language)
- He's lost everything.
His ticket, identity
card, passport, money.
(speaks in foreign language)
(footsteps stomping)
One moment!
(whistle blows)
(steam gushes)
- Who was he?
- A refugee.
Jewish, I think.
- What will become of him?
- What will become of anybody?
(somber music)
(train screeches)
- What is it this time?
- This is Romania, darling.
- It seems a very dark place.
- It's night-time.
- Even so.
- My name is Yakimov.
Prince Yakimov.
I have a British passport.
(speaking in foreign language)
(train roaring)
- Those lights shining in the darkness,
they look like animals' eyes, staring.
Could they be animals?
- Could be wolves.
(announcer speaks in foreign language)
(speaking in foreign language)
Here we are, darling, at last.
(bell ringing)
(chattering)
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
Welcome to Bucharest.
Taxis this way.
(chattering)
- Left luggage office, dear boy?
- What's that place?
- [Guy] That's the Athenee Palace Hotel.
- [Harriet] We're not staying there?
- [Guy] Oh, too expensive for us.
Too expensive for anybody.
- [Harriet] Who stays there?
- Foreign diplomats,
Fleet Street journalists,
decaying aristocrats.
Most of them plotting the
overthrow of each other.
No, this is where we are staying.
(cars zooming)
- Can we afford to stay here?
- Of course not.
(shouting in foreign language)
- Excuse me, my dears.
Could you direct me the way
to the British Legation?
(speaking in foreign language)
(laughing)
Thank you, my dears.
Profoundly grateful.
(laughing)
(paper rustling)
- Are we going out?
- Well, I'm just popping
into the university, darling.
I won't be more than an hour.
- Couldn't you wait until
Professor Inchcape arrives?
- Well, the students
will be there already.
You've got no idea how
enthusiastic they are.
You'll find lots to do.
Little monkey's paws, you
do look tired, you know.
- Bye!
(church bells ringing)
(tram bell rings)
(car horn honks)
(truck horn honks)
- I'm not sure you should have
come to Bucharest, dear boy.
- Now, in the three months
since we've been away,
there have been quite
radical political changes
right across Europe, and therefore,
we are starting this new term
in the shadows of fascism
and surrounded by wars
and rumours of wars.
Now, you may well be wondering
how this will affect what we do here.
But be not troubled.
Our work here is much too
important to be interrupted
by a mean-spirited little
man like Adolf Hitler.
(clapping)
- My father thinks you
were very courageous
to return to Bucharest.
- Oh, nonsense.
The Germans are bound to bomb London soon.
I'm much safer here.
- I do not think it is safe
for Jews in Bucharest, Professor.
- We must all stand firm against fascism.
United, wherever we are.
- My father wants you to come to lunch.
He says he wants another
chance to meet the man
who teaches me English.
- Well, you speak much better
English than I do, Sasha.
- For that, we must thank the
English public school system.
- We shall work together on
its destruction, comrade.
(dog barking)
(upbeat orchestral music)
(speaking in foreign language)
- Sorry to trouble you,
dear boy, but, yes,
could you direct me to
the British Legation?
- Yakimov!
- Excuse me.
Yes, you know, I know the face.
But I just can't put a name to it.
- McCann.
- McCann..
- We met in a bar in Budapest.
I lent you some money.
- Yes.
Do you know, I'm expecting
my allowance any day.
Just off to the British Legation
to see what they can do.
- Sod your allowance!
I need somebody who can speak English.
- Oh.
- Here.
Get this out for me.
The whole story.
- What story?
- Break-up of Poland.
German advance on Warsaw.
- Refugees streaming out, me with them.
- No.
- Men, women, and children--
- Sorry, dear boy, not really an artisan.
- Listen!
Please.
Telephone our agency in Geneva.
Reverse the charges.
Dictate this over the line.
- You don't understand.
I haven't eaten for days.
Car's impounded.
Walked for miles.
Your poor old Yaki's
feeling a little faint.
- You bastard.
Here, take this.
My press card.
You could eat here, get yourself a drink.
Get a bed.
Get what you damn well like,
but phone this through first, please.
- Do you mean they'll give me credit?
- Infinite credit, Yakimov.
Guaranteed by Fleet Street.
Work for me, and you can booze and stuff
to your heart's content.
- Dear boy.
- Hello, darling.
- I've missed you.
The telephone rang three times for you.
- Well, never mind about that.
Guess what's happened?
The Russians have occupied Vilna.
- You mean they've invaded Poland?
- No, it's a move to protect
Poland against the Germans.
- I thought we were protecting
Poland against the Germans.
And the telephone still rang three times.
- There's very little
else a telephone can do,
darling, is there?
- A woman asking for you.
- This is a very primitive country.
Telephones are new.
People are crazy about them.
I mean, women ring up
complete strangers and say,
hello, who are you?
Let us have a little flirt.
(laughs)
Come on.
- What?
- We're going out to meet people.
- Oh, right.
- Right.
Now, a book.
- Who?
(upbeat energetic music)
(applause)
(laughs)
- This is certainly highly animated.
- I love you.
- How did you get this table?
All those people are waiting.
- Because we're English, and
England is protecting Romania
against the Germans.
And I bribed the waiter.
(laughs)
- Do you know him?
- That's Ionescu.
He's the Minister of Press and Propaganda
in the Romanian government.
- [Harriet] Why is he smiling at us?
- Because we're English, and
England is protecting Romania
against the Germans.
You see?
- Who are the women?
- His wife and relatives.
- His wife looks downtrodden.
- She is.
Ionescu comes here because
he's having an affair
with Florica, the singer.
- He brings his wife with him?
- Ah! Inchcape and Lawson.
How splendid!
We're all together again.
Professor Inchcape, my commanding officer.
Clarence Lawson, my colleague.
This is my wife, Harriet.
- So you've got yourself married?
- Well, it was a very hot summer.
- Dangerous place to bring a wife.
Apparently, the business community wives
have all been sent home.
- I don't appreciate being sent anywhere,
not being a parcel.
And we have a choice.
To be bombed in London
or invaded in Bucharest.
- I understand London's very quiet.
Everyone digging holes
with nothing to hide from.
- If there were an invasion
here, where would we go?
- Turkey, I suppose.
- Oh, there'll be no invasion.
The Russians will guarantee that.
- I will guarantee that.
- Really?
- I've just been put in
charge of British propaganda
in the Balkans.
- To win the minds of the people.
- Indeed.
- How do you plan to do
that, Professor Inchcape?
- Oh, a regular news sheet,
and we've rented a small shop
just off the Calea Victoriei.
- Now, what are we eating and drinking?
- We are drinking.
And while we are drinking,
we will decide what we're going to eat.
(lighthearted music)
- When I arrived here,
not a friend in the city.
People shouting at me.
Nearly got run over by
several lorries and cars.
Thought to myself,
I wonder if old Dobson's
still at the Legation.
- And here I am.
- Now, old Dobson's not to
think Yaki's on the scrounge.
Not a bit of it.
Fact is, I'm working.
- You, working?
- A spot of reporting for Fleet Street.
Got a press card, expense account.
And no problem with
the hotel, none at all.
Infinite credit.
Just a little bit short of the readies.
Petty cash.
Exceedingly petty.
Might nibble a drop of
their smoked sturgeon.
What do you think?
- He's called Prince Yakimov.
Half Irish, half Russian.
It's said that he has
a very peculiar English
sense of humour.
Wears odd shoes.
- Yes, that is peculiar.
(dramatic music)
- Florica!
(applause)
(Florica singing in foreign language)
Sophie, darling.
Darling, you must meet Sophie.
My wife, Harriet.
- No, thank you.
I'm much too depressed
about the war to drink wine.
- Oh, don't worry.
- Sophie probably
imagines war was declared
with the sole object of depressing her.
- Excuse me, I must go.
(whispering)
(applause)
(cheering)
- [Crowd] Bravo!
- Bravo!
- Did you enjoy that?
- The Romanians are full of rage at
what the world does to them.
They daren't express it.
She expresses it.
- But did you enjoy it?
- It's not my rage.
(upbeat music)
(applause)
- What happened to Lawson?
- Oh, he has a mysterious double life.
He doesn't talk about it.
- Coffee, everyone?
- Thank you.
- Yes, please, Mr. Pringle.
- I've invited Dobson and his
friend to join us for coffee.
I thought it would be fun
to meet Prince Yakimov.
- Fun?
- Prince Yakimov, Sophie Oresanu.
Professor Inchcape you know, I think--
- Inchcape, my dear.
- Guy Pringle.
- How do you do?
- And--
- Harriet, my wife.
- How do you do?
- How do you do?
- How wonderful, when one
has lived abroad too long,
to meet an English beauty.
Um, could we have a little brandy, please?
Make it a bottle to be safe.
(waiter speaks in foreign language)
- I saw you on the train at the frontier.
- Cannot tell a lie, dear girl.
I was having a spot of bother.
With my car.
Hispano-Suiza.
Papers not in order.
Impounded the poor girl.
Nourishment.
- I'm told you have a peculiarly English
sense of humour and wear odd shoes.
- Correctly informed, dear girl.
There we are.
Have a pair at home exactly like these.
(laughs)
- Yes, that is peculiar.
- Well, I'm delighted you agree.
I was telling old Dobson here,
I am now an accredited war correspondent.
- Yes, I've told them.
- German advance on Warsaw.
Refugees streaming out.
Men, women, and children
machine-gunned from the air.
The dead buried by the roadside.
Magnificent stuff.
Poor old Yaki got it out while it was hot.
- Do you think the Nazis are funny?
- Started out all right.
Overdid it somehow.
Nobody likes them now.
- I believe that is the
Foreign Office view.
Is that so, Dobson?
- The Foreign Office has no view.
- I once painted my windows black.
Perhaps the Foreign
Office has done the same.
(laughs)
- Why do you laugh?
Is it funny?
- Do you have jokes in Romania?
- Oh, yes.
We say, what is the difference between
a kitten and a ball of wool?
- And what is the difference?
- If you put a kitten
to the foot of a tree,
it will climb up.
(laughs)
It seems absurd to me.
- My dear, everything's absurd.
With the exception of brandy.
Did we order brandy?
♪ Pack up your troubles
in your old kit bag ♪
♪ And smile, smile, smile ♪
♪ While you've a Lucifer
to light your fag ♪
♪ Smile, boys, that's the style ♪
♪ What's the use of worrying? ♪
♪ It never was worthwhile ♪
- Was that shooting?
- Very likely.
♪ It's a long way to Tipperary ♪
♪ It's a.. ♪
(footsteps approaching)
(laughs)
- Is Guy finding you a flat?
- No, Sophie's going to find us a flat.
- What a generous woman she is.
(melancholy orchestral music)
- I seem to have forgotten
my room number, dear boy.
It's Yakimov.
Prince Yakimov.
Oh, yes, and no breakfast, but
perhaps you'd be good enough
to send half a bottle of
Veuve Clicquot up to my room
about noon.
- Prince Yakimov.
- Prince Hadjimoscos!
- And your old friends from
those days in Monte Carlo.
- Yes.
- Count Ignotius Horvath and Cici Palu.
(speaking in foreign language)
- Dear boys!
- We wonder if you will do
us the honour of joining us
in a small nightcap.
- Perhaps a little brandy.
- A celebration--
- Of old times.
- Yes.
Yes, of course, tomorrow, dear boys.
Yes.
- Tell me about Sophie.
- Tomorrow.
- And tomorrow and tomorrow.
- I shall take you to the park
and confess what little
there is to confess.
Don't worry, darling.
Old Pringle's all right.
Old Pringle's not a bad chap.
Old Pringle's not a bad chap at all.
(bird chirping)
(upbeat orchestral music)
- What does Sophie do, apart
from running after men?
- She's taking a law degree.
- That's quite impressive.
- Everybody in Romania takes a law degree.
It enables you to lick
stamps in the civil service.
- Why was she depressed last night?
Was it because of the war?
Or because you were married?
- Oh! You are so interested in people
and their private lives.
- You're interested in ideas,
I'm interested in people.
If you were more interested in people,
you might not like them so much.
- You can put your mind at rest.
She'd given up any idea
of marriage ages ago.
- She once had that idea, then?
- Well..
Sophie's mother was Jewish.
Until recently she worked
on an anti-fascist magazine.
- She wants a British passport?
- It was never a serious possibility.
- But it was a possibility?
- Well, one has to be polite.
- And I suppose you lent her money?
- A little.
- Did she pay you back?
- Well, in Romania,
the attitude to loans
is somewhat different.
- The money's never returned.
- Darling, we can afford
to be kind to people
who are sad, and lonely, and frightened.
- There are thousands of people like that.
There isn't time to be
kind to all of them.
- We must try.
- You're an extraordinary man.
- Of course I am.
We're all extraordinary.
You're extraordinary.
I noticed it the first time we met.
- When we first met,
you made me feel I was the
centre of the universe.
- And so you are.
- But you make everyone feel like that.
- Well, isn't that a good thing to do?
- Yes.
It's wonderful.
People feel they can
come to you for anything.
But you're always somewhere
else when I need you--
- Shh.
- What's wrong?
- Calinescu.
- Who's Calinescu?
- Well, the Prime Minister.
He was shot dead last night
in the chicken market.
Come on.
- Where?
- The English Bar at the Athenee Palace.
That's the place to find
out what's going on.
- Last night, coming home
in the taxi, I heard shots.
- So you did!
There you are.
You see, you're extraordinary, too.
(upbeat orchestral music)
- You Yakimov?
- Yes, dear boy, me Yakimov.
- Deputising for McCann?
- Oh, I like to do my bit.
- Galpin.
Echo.
Any news about last night?
- Oh, well, yes.
It was quite a party.
- I'll say.
The old formula.
Someone inside creates a disturbance,
then the bastards march in to keep order.
- The old formula.
Quite.
- It's obviously the
work of the Iron Guard.
- Iron Guard?
- Nazi sympathisers, right-wing fascists.
- And the Germans will
be here within the week.
- Impossible.
The Russians have moved
into Eastern Poland.
- The Nazis will go through the Russkies
like a hot knife through butter.
- I say, dear girl, do
tell what's going on.
- Haven't you heard
about the assassination?
- Assassination, no.
Who assassinated who?
- A group of young men killed
the Prime Minister last night
and then drove to the broadcasting studios
and announced he was dead, or dying.
They didn't know which.
- I'd have thought assassins
were more efficient than that.
- They filled him full of lead.
Clung to the car door, little
pink hands, striped trousers.
Then he slid down, patches
of dust on the side
of his patent leather shoes.
- I say, that's awfully good.
Yeah.
Did you write that?
Were you there?
- It was seen.
Now the frontier's closed,
international lines dead,
and they won't let us send any cables.
- Oh, well.
Saves you a job, dear boy.
Might as well have another drink.
(bell rings)
(speaking in foreign language)
- Cables can now be sent
from the Central Post Office.
- On your feet.
- I don't think I should
go out today, dear boy.
Feeling a little fragile.
- Are you doing McCann's job or not?
Hmm? Come on.
Got the story?
German plot.
Excuse to march in and take over.
- Not quite sure how
to spell assassination.
- McCann is one of my oldest
and dearest friends and I'm not
having his reputation
ruined by a twerp like you.
Here.
- I'm deeply grateful, dear boy.
Not really an artisan.
- We haven't finished.
- [Yakimov] Where are we going?
- Marketplace.
- [Yakimov] Shopping?
- They've got the chaps that did it.
- The assassins?
- Yeah, picked them up during the night.
Executed.
They're on display in the market.
- You mean corpses?
- Yeah.
(church bells ringing)
See, that one wasn't dead
when they pitched him out.
- Well, quite.
- See how he twitched?
- Can't blame a chap for twitching.
Dear boy, I haven't recovered
from yesterday's corpses.
- Today the Minister
for Press and Propaganda
will give us the official
version of the assassination.
Should be free drinks.
- Oh.
(bell rings)
- Today Romania, with a broken heart,
announces the tragic
loss of her much-loved
son and premier, Armand Calinescu.
Assassinated by six students,
who failed to pass their baccalaureate.
While attempting to forgive this mad act
of disappointed youth, the
nation is prostrate with grief.
You have all been very naughty, you know?
With your fantasies.
You are guests in a neutral kingdom.
We wish no quarrel with our neighbours.
- What a load of bollocks.
Minister?
Could you tell us which
fantasies you were talking about?
- The fantasies that the assassins
were Iron Guardists in German pay.
That the Germans had planned an invasion.
Please, remember.
It was announced by his
glorious majesty the King
that not a single Guardist
remains alive in this country.
And yet,
and yet,
a reputable journalist
of a famous newspaper
accused our great and glorious King,
father of culture, father of his people,
of being behind this fiendish murder.
On investigation, we
learn that this journalist
is a sick man, wounded
while driving out of Poland.
Nevertheless, as soon as he is capable,
he and his associates
will be ordered to leave.
- Those bodies.
They looked pretty old for students.
- In this country, we
have students of all ages.
Some remain at the
university all their lives.
- Hideous.
- Yes, well, Inchcape will
put them in their place.
Oh, very impressive.
Have we won the minds of
the people yet, Clarence?
(laughs)
- Can you imagine what they have sent us,
the British Wartime Propaganda?
Travel posters.
(laughs)
Shakespeare country.
The Lake District.
The Broads.
- Oh, yes.
That should impress the Iron Guard.
- The Iron Guard is destroyed.
The King said so.
- Who's this?
- Brenda.
- Your fiance?
- Yes.
- Where's Inchcape?
- Attending the funeral.
Official guest.
Professor of English and Director of
Misinformation to the Balkans.
He's also sulking.
- Doesn't he like funerals?
- I've taken on an extra job.
I've been asked to organise Polish relief.
No salary, just expenses and a car.
- What's it mean?
- Everybody in England
is busily knitting socks
and pullovers for the gallant Poles.
I have to make sure that they
reach the said gallant Poles.
- [Harriet] What else
is happening in England?
- Everybody's been
digging up their gardens,
putting in air-raid shelters.
As soon as it rained,
they filled up with water.
- [Harriet] No air raids?
- Give the Germans time.
They're doing quite
well with their U-boats.
- The Druckers live there, but
they own next door as well.
In fact, I think they
own the whole street.
- Unusual friends for a man like you.
- Sasha is a brilliant student.
And his father is charming.
- Even though he's a capitalist hyena?
- One learns to live with
contradictions, darling.
- Are you enjoying
Bucharest, Doamna Pringle?
- I find it very strange.
Not like England.
But I've found much kindness here.
- Apart from the Legation women,
who have diplomatic immunity,
Harriet is the only
English woman left here.
- You're forgetting Bella Nicolescu.
She's an Englishwoman.
(speaking in foreign language)
- Bella Niculescu is
a very tiresome woman.
You wouldn't have much in common with her.
- You don't like her?
Neither me.
- She's a bourgeois reactionary.
- I do business with bourgeois
reactionaries every day,
my dear Guy.
- Yes, Emmanuel.
Well, then, perhaps
you can confirm or deny
the rumour that I have heard.
That there will soon be
complete financial collapse
in Germany and the war will be short.
- There will be no collapse.
We're Jewish.
- You are Jewish.
I am Romanian.
- We do not love the Germans.
But we didn't cause the war.
We must live.
A banker upholds the existing order.
- Supposing the order ceases to exist?
Supposing the Nazis come here?
- The Nazis will not come here.
The Russians will prevent that happening.
- Such faith you have in the Russians.
- Something must happen.
The workers in this country
are scandalously underpaid.
As for the peasants--
- The peasants are beasts.
They are hopeless.
- There is room for all here.
There is work and food for all.
The Romanians are content to do nothing
but eat, sleep and make love.
The Jews and foreigners run the country.
Should we be persecuted
because we work hard?
- The Germans will persecute you.
The Russians will not.
- Who can say?
All I want is that my son should lead
a decent and peaceful life.
(speaks in foreign language)
(lighthearted music)
- Yakimov.
- Got your message, dear boy.
Now, I gathered you wanted a word?
- Give me my press card back.
- You know, I still don't
know what I've done wrong.
- I'll tell you.
You've run up a bill during the last month
amounting to 200,000 lei.
You've got me deported.
You've sent out stories in my name
that were just scandals and rumour.
- Oh, yes.
But I thought you liked
hot news, dear boy.
I kept my ears open in the bar.
Listened.
Warmed it up a bit.
Galpin helped.
Decent fellow.
- Galpin works for another paper.
If our paper sinks with all hands,
his paper will be delighted, understand?
- Hardly at all, dear boy.
- Goodbye forever, thank Christ.
- Well, this is absolutely
splendid, darling.
- Thank you.
- It's splendid!
Really splendid.
And you negotiated the
whole thing yourself
with the landlord?
- Mostly in French.
- You don't speak French, do you?
- Neither did he.
But that's what we spoke.
And..
Despina helped.
- Despina?
(speaks in foreign language)
It seems the servant comes with the flat.
- What is she talking about, more room?
(speaks in foreign language)
Oh, I see.
This is a luxury flat.
It has two servants' bedrooms.
- Isn't that a storeroom?
- No, no!
(speaks in foreign language)
- It's a shed.
- No, no!
(speaks in foreign language)
- I don't understand.
Where's the other one?
- Ah, my room in the
kitchen, Mrs. Pringle.
- I thought that was a cupboard.
- Yes, well, in Romania,
servants usually sleep in cupboards.
(speaks in foreign language)
- Royal Palace.
- Good heavens.
So it is.
Darling, you've performed miracles!
- Sophie gave me the address.
- Well, even so.
- It's nice to be at the centre of things.
- Wherever we are.
That will always be the centre of things.
(sinister music)
(upbeat piano music)
- So what's he charged with?
- Buying money on the black market.
- That's nonsense.
- What's the real reason?
- He's a banker, he's
Jewish, he's pro-British.
That's enough for a Romanian government.
- They say about him
his heart is in England,
but his pocket in Berlin.
- What about the family?
- I've heard nothing.
- I must go and see them.
Sasha will be in a terrible state.
- You haven't drunk your tea.
- You'll keep Harriet company, won't you?
- It's my pleasure.
- Will Drucker be able to
buy himself out of prison?
- I doubt it.
- [Harriet] Why?
- His money is out of the country.
Mostly in Switzerland.
He could go to it, but
it can't come to him.
- There seems to be no answer.
- There is no answer.
- You must be Guy's new wife!
- Yes.
- Bella Niculescu.
My husband, Nikko.
- Delighted to meet you.
- Guy disapproves of me totally.
He thinks I'm a reactionary,
but that's no reason why
we shouldn't be friends.
- Enchante, madame.
- You must come and have tea with me.
- I'd love to.
- And how's life at the British Legation?
- In the circumstances,
one can't complain.
- One might be coming to you
for sanctuary before long.
Excuse me, we're meeting friends.
We'll have tea and talk
about Guy behind his back.
Is that reasonable?
- Extremely.
- Goodbye.
- Bye.
What does Nikko do?
- Nothing.
- Bella's rich?
- Bella's rich.
- Sasha's disappeared.
So have the rest of the family.
- How do you know?
- I asked a secret policeman.
- Imagine.
That big house, that powerful family.
No more secure than we are.
(sinister music)
- Dear boy, you seem to have
presented me with this bill.
- Mon cher Prince, if you cannot pay,
I must present this matter
to the British Legation.
- 24 hours?
- 24 hours.
- I was thinking of
moving into the Minerva.
- The Minerva is full of Germans.
- Yaki's not a proud man.
- And the Minerva is almost as expensive
as the Athenee Palace.
You must try to live within your means.
- I have no means.
That's my difficulty.
- You must find yourself
a bed-sitting room.
- A bed-sitting room?
- Did you really have
to invite that woman?
- She's on her own.
- Yes.
Well, in that case, you won't mind that
I've invited Lawson and Inchcape.
- Well, they'll bring their own wine.
- And, um, and Yakimov.
- Anybody else?
- Yes, well, I did just
mention to Sophie--
- Sophie!
(humming)
Wonderful.
Just there.
- Ah!
Merry Christmas, Yaki!
- Merry Christmas, old boy.
I took the liberty of
bringing an old friend.
Met him in the English Bar.
Lonely.
A long way from home.
- Dubedat.
Humble member of the proletariat.
- Merry Christmas!
- Merry Christmas.
- What a lovely surprise.
Another chair, Despina.
(speaks in foreign language)
(laughs)
- Who's this?
I think somebody's just come in.
Well, hello!
Happy Christmas!
- Harriet, darling, Happy Christmas!
I managed to..
- Despina!
(speaks in foreign language)
Well, God help us, everyone.
- Absent friends.
- Dear departed, and we're not
forgetting good old England.
- And peace in our time,
if I may be so bold.
- [All] Cheers.
- Where are you staying
in Bucharest, Mr. Dubedat?
- Calae Plevna, with
a family of poor Jews.
The poorest of the poor.
The only decent folk in this dirty,
depraved, God-forsaken capital.
- More turkey, anyone?
(phone ringing)
- I'll get it.
- If that's Neville Chamberlain,
tell him what he can do
with his piece of paper, eh?
(laughs)
- Darling!
Where are you?
Why aren't you here?
- Sophie.
- Yes, look, we're missing you.
Sophie.
She says she's too depressed
to come to the party.
She's threatening to
do something desperate.
(jeers)
- [Harriet] Such as?
- Such as take an overdose
or jump out of the window.
- Excuse me.
Go ahead and jump!
(cheering)
♪ Should auld acquaintance be forgot ♪
♪ And never brought to mind ♪
♪ Should auld acquaintance be forgot ♪
♪ For the sake of auld lang syne ♪
♪ For auld lang syne, my dear ♪
♪ For auld lang syne ♪
- This is a New Year's
song, not a Christmas song.
- Yeah, well, it's the
principle of the thing.
- What principle?
- Well, I can't remember but.
♪ Auld lang syne ♪
♪ For auld lang syne my dear ♪
- Bye-bye now.
Merry Christmas, thanks for coming.
- Thank you.
- Good night.
Thank you very much indeed, bye-bye.
- Goodbye.
- Now I really must go, darling.
- Go?
Go where?
- Well, to Sophie.
Make sure she's all right.
- We'll both go.
- That isn't necessary, is it?
- If she jumped out of the window,
it will need both of us to carry her.
That didn't take long.
I assume she didn't
jump out of the window.
- No.
- Overdose?
- No.
She really is a very silly woman.
And you really are a very sensible woman.
And Merry Christmas.
- Merry Christmas.
- Look. Winter.
- You promised me a sleigh ride.
- Did I?
This way.
(upbeat music)
(train roaring)
(speaking in foreign language)
(speaking in foreign language)
(speaking in foreign language)
(speaking in foreign language)
(train horn blows)
(train chugging)
(lighthearted music)
(melancholy music)
(speaks in foreign language)
(speaking in foreign language)
- He's lost everything.
His ticket, identity
card, passport, money.
(speaks in foreign language)
(footsteps stomping)
One moment!
(whistle blows)
(steam gushes)
- Who was he?
- A refugee.
Jewish, I think.
- What will become of him?
- What will become of anybody?
(somber music)
(train screeches)
- What is it this time?
- This is Romania, darling.
- It seems a very dark place.
- It's night-time.
- Even so.
- My name is Yakimov.
Prince Yakimov.
I have a British passport.
(speaking in foreign language)
(train roaring)
- Those lights shining in the darkness,
they look like animals' eyes, staring.
Could they be animals?
- Could be wolves.
(announcer speaks in foreign language)
(speaking in foreign language)
Here we are, darling, at last.
(bell ringing)
(chattering)
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
Welcome to Bucharest.
Taxis this way.
(chattering)
- Left luggage office, dear boy?
- What's that place?
- [Guy] That's the Athenee Palace Hotel.
- [Harriet] We're not staying there?
- [Guy] Oh, too expensive for us.
Too expensive for anybody.
- [Harriet] Who stays there?
- Foreign diplomats,
Fleet Street journalists,
decaying aristocrats.
Most of them plotting the
overthrow of each other.
No, this is where we are staying.
(cars zooming)
- Can we afford to stay here?
- Of course not.
(shouting in foreign language)
- Excuse me, my dears.
Could you direct me the way
to the British Legation?
(speaking in foreign language)
(laughing)
Thank you, my dears.
Profoundly grateful.
(laughing)
(paper rustling)
- Are we going out?
- Well, I'm just popping
into the university, darling.
I won't be more than an hour.
- Couldn't you wait until
Professor Inchcape arrives?
- Well, the students
will be there already.
You've got no idea how
enthusiastic they are.
You'll find lots to do.
Little monkey's paws, you
do look tired, you know.
- Bye!
(church bells ringing)
(tram bell rings)
(car horn honks)
(truck horn honks)
- I'm not sure you should have
come to Bucharest, dear boy.
- Now, in the three months
since we've been away,
there have been quite
radical political changes
right across Europe, and therefore,
we are starting this new term
in the shadows of fascism
and surrounded by wars
and rumours of wars.
Now, you may well be wondering
how this will affect what we do here.
But be not troubled.
Our work here is much too
important to be interrupted
by a mean-spirited little
man like Adolf Hitler.
(clapping)
- My father thinks you
were very courageous
to return to Bucharest.
- Oh, nonsense.
The Germans are bound to bomb London soon.
I'm much safer here.
- I do not think it is safe
for Jews in Bucharest, Professor.
- We must all stand firm against fascism.
United, wherever we are.
- My father wants you to come to lunch.
He says he wants another
chance to meet the man
who teaches me English.
- Well, you speak much better
English than I do, Sasha.
- For that, we must thank the
English public school system.
- We shall work together on
its destruction, comrade.
(dog barking)
(upbeat orchestral music)
(speaking in foreign language)
- Sorry to trouble you,
dear boy, but, yes,
could you direct me to
the British Legation?
- Yakimov!
- Excuse me.
Yes, you know, I know the face.
But I just can't put a name to it.
- McCann.
- McCann..
- We met in a bar in Budapest.
I lent you some money.
- Yes.
Do you know, I'm expecting
my allowance any day.
Just off to the British Legation
to see what they can do.
- Sod your allowance!
I need somebody who can speak English.
- Oh.
- Here.
Get this out for me.
The whole story.
- What story?
- Break-up of Poland.
German advance on Warsaw.
- Refugees streaming out, me with them.
- No.
- Men, women, and children--
- Sorry, dear boy, not really an artisan.
- Listen!
Please.
Telephone our agency in Geneva.
Reverse the charges.
Dictate this over the line.
- You don't understand.
I haven't eaten for days.
Car's impounded.
Walked for miles.
Your poor old Yaki's
feeling a little faint.
- You bastard.
Here, take this.
My press card.
You could eat here, get yourself a drink.
Get a bed.
Get what you damn well like,
but phone this through first, please.
- Do you mean they'll give me credit?
- Infinite credit, Yakimov.
Guaranteed by Fleet Street.
Work for me, and you can booze and stuff
to your heart's content.
- Dear boy.
- Hello, darling.
- I've missed you.
The telephone rang three times for you.
- Well, never mind about that.
Guess what's happened?
The Russians have occupied Vilna.
- You mean they've invaded Poland?
- No, it's a move to protect
Poland against the Germans.
- I thought we were protecting
Poland against the Germans.
And the telephone still rang three times.
- There's very little
else a telephone can do,
darling, is there?
- A woman asking for you.
- This is a very primitive country.
Telephones are new.
People are crazy about them.
I mean, women ring up
complete strangers and say,
hello, who are you?
Let us have a little flirt.
(laughs)
Come on.
- What?
- We're going out to meet people.
- Oh, right.
- Right.
Now, a book.
- Who?
(upbeat energetic music)
(applause)
(laughs)
- This is certainly highly animated.
- I love you.
- How did you get this table?
All those people are waiting.
- Because we're English, and
England is protecting Romania
against the Germans.
And I bribed the waiter.
(laughs)
- Do you know him?
- That's Ionescu.
He's the Minister of Press and Propaganda
in the Romanian government.
- [Harriet] Why is he smiling at us?
- Because we're English, and
England is protecting Romania
against the Germans.
You see?
- Who are the women?
- His wife and relatives.
- His wife looks downtrodden.
- She is.
Ionescu comes here because
he's having an affair
with Florica, the singer.
- He brings his wife with him?
- Ah! Inchcape and Lawson.
How splendid!
We're all together again.
Professor Inchcape, my commanding officer.
Clarence Lawson, my colleague.
This is my wife, Harriet.
- So you've got yourself married?
- Well, it was a very hot summer.
- Dangerous place to bring a wife.
Apparently, the business community wives
have all been sent home.
- I don't appreciate being sent anywhere,
not being a parcel.
And we have a choice.
To be bombed in London
or invaded in Bucharest.
- I understand London's very quiet.
Everyone digging holes
with nothing to hide from.
- If there were an invasion
here, where would we go?
- Turkey, I suppose.
- Oh, there'll be no invasion.
The Russians will guarantee that.
- I will guarantee that.
- Really?
- I've just been put in
charge of British propaganda
in the Balkans.
- To win the minds of the people.
- Indeed.
- How do you plan to do
that, Professor Inchcape?
- Oh, a regular news sheet,
and we've rented a small shop
just off the Calea Victoriei.
- Now, what are we eating and drinking?
- We are drinking.
And while we are drinking,
we will decide what we're going to eat.
(lighthearted music)
- When I arrived here,
not a friend in the city.
People shouting at me.
Nearly got run over by
several lorries and cars.
Thought to myself,
I wonder if old Dobson's
still at the Legation.
- And here I am.
- Now, old Dobson's not to
think Yaki's on the scrounge.
Not a bit of it.
Fact is, I'm working.
- You, working?
- A spot of reporting for Fleet Street.
Got a press card, expense account.
And no problem with
the hotel, none at all.
Infinite credit.
Just a little bit short of the readies.
Petty cash.
Exceedingly petty.
Might nibble a drop of
their smoked sturgeon.
What do you think?
- He's called Prince Yakimov.
Half Irish, half Russian.
It's said that he has
a very peculiar English
sense of humour.
Wears odd shoes.
- Yes, that is peculiar.
(dramatic music)
- Florica!
(applause)
(Florica singing in foreign language)
Sophie, darling.
Darling, you must meet Sophie.
My wife, Harriet.
- No, thank you.
I'm much too depressed
about the war to drink wine.
- Oh, don't worry.
- Sophie probably
imagines war was declared
with the sole object of depressing her.
- Excuse me, I must go.
(whispering)
(applause)
(cheering)
- [Crowd] Bravo!
- Bravo!
- Did you enjoy that?
- The Romanians are full of rage at
what the world does to them.
They daren't express it.
She expresses it.
- But did you enjoy it?
- It's not my rage.
(upbeat music)
(applause)
- What happened to Lawson?
- Oh, he has a mysterious double life.
He doesn't talk about it.
- Coffee, everyone?
- Thank you.
- Yes, please, Mr. Pringle.
- I've invited Dobson and his
friend to join us for coffee.
I thought it would be fun
to meet Prince Yakimov.
- Fun?
- Prince Yakimov, Sophie Oresanu.
Professor Inchcape you know, I think--
- Inchcape, my dear.
- Guy Pringle.
- How do you do?
- And--
- Harriet, my wife.
- How do you do?
- How do you do?
- How wonderful, when one
has lived abroad too long,
to meet an English beauty.
Um, could we have a little brandy, please?
Make it a bottle to be safe.
(waiter speaks in foreign language)
- I saw you on the train at the frontier.
- Cannot tell a lie, dear girl.
I was having a spot of bother.
With my car.
Hispano-Suiza.
Papers not in order.
Impounded the poor girl.
Nourishment.
- I'm told you have a peculiarly English
sense of humour and wear odd shoes.
- Correctly informed, dear girl.
There we are.
Have a pair at home exactly like these.
(laughs)
- Yes, that is peculiar.
- Well, I'm delighted you agree.
I was telling old Dobson here,
I am now an accredited war correspondent.
- Yes, I've told them.
- German advance on Warsaw.
Refugees streaming out.
Men, women, and children
machine-gunned from the air.
The dead buried by the roadside.
Magnificent stuff.
Poor old Yaki got it out while it was hot.
- Do you think the Nazis are funny?
- Started out all right.
Overdid it somehow.
Nobody likes them now.
- I believe that is the
Foreign Office view.
Is that so, Dobson?
- The Foreign Office has no view.
- I once painted my windows black.
Perhaps the Foreign
Office has done the same.
(laughs)
- Why do you laugh?
Is it funny?
- Do you have jokes in Romania?
- Oh, yes.
We say, what is the difference between
a kitten and a ball of wool?
- And what is the difference?
- If you put a kitten
to the foot of a tree,
it will climb up.
(laughs)
It seems absurd to me.
- My dear, everything's absurd.
With the exception of brandy.
Did we order brandy?
♪ Pack up your troubles
in your old kit bag ♪
♪ And smile, smile, smile ♪
♪ While you've a Lucifer
to light your fag ♪
♪ Smile, boys, that's the style ♪
♪ What's the use of worrying? ♪
♪ It never was worthwhile ♪
- Was that shooting?
- Very likely.
♪ It's a long way to Tipperary ♪
♪ It's a.. ♪
(footsteps approaching)
(laughs)
- Is Guy finding you a flat?
- No, Sophie's going to find us a flat.
- What a generous woman she is.
(melancholy orchestral music)
- I seem to have forgotten
my room number, dear boy.
It's Yakimov.
Prince Yakimov.
Oh, yes, and no breakfast, but
perhaps you'd be good enough
to send half a bottle of
Veuve Clicquot up to my room
about noon.
- Prince Yakimov.
- Prince Hadjimoscos!
- And your old friends from
those days in Monte Carlo.
- Yes.
- Count Ignotius Horvath and Cici Palu.
(speaking in foreign language)
- Dear boys!
- We wonder if you will do
us the honour of joining us
in a small nightcap.
- Perhaps a little brandy.
- A celebration--
- Of old times.
- Yes.
Yes, of course, tomorrow, dear boys.
Yes.
- Tell me about Sophie.
- Tomorrow.
- And tomorrow and tomorrow.
- I shall take you to the park
and confess what little
there is to confess.
Don't worry, darling.
Old Pringle's all right.
Old Pringle's not a bad chap.
Old Pringle's not a bad chap at all.
(bird chirping)
(upbeat orchestral music)
- What does Sophie do, apart
from running after men?
- She's taking a law degree.
- That's quite impressive.
- Everybody in Romania takes a law degree.
It enables you to lick
stamps in the civil service.
- Why was she depressed last night?
Was it because of the war?
Or because you were married?
- Oh! You are so interested in people
and their private lives.
- You're interested in ideas,
I'm interested in people.
If you were more interested in people,
you might not like them so much.
- You can put your mind at rest.
She'd given up any idea
of marriage ages ago.
- She once had that idea, then?
- Well..
Sophie's mother was Jewish.
Until recently she worked
on an anti-fascist magazine.
- She wants a British passport?
- It was never a serious possibility.
- But it was a possibility?
- Well, one has to be polite.
- And I suppose you lent her money?
- A little.
- Did she pay you back?
- Well, in Romania,
the attitude to loans
is somewhat different.
- The money's never returned.
- Darling, we can afford
to be kind to people
who are sad, and lonely, and frightened.
- There are thousands of people like that.
There isn't time to be
kind to all of them.
- We must try.
- You're an extraordinary man.
- Of course I am.
We're all extraordinary.
You're extraordinary.
I noticed it the first time we met.
- When we first met,
you made me feel I was the
centre of the universe.
- And so you are.
- But you make everyone feel like that.
- Well, isn't that a good thing to do?
- Yes.
It's wonderful.
People feel they can
come to you for anything.
But you're always somewhere
else when I need you--
- Shh.
- What's wrong?
- Calinescu.
- Who's Calinescu?
- Well, the Prime Minister.
He was shot dead last night
in the chicken market.
Come on.
- Where?
- The English Bar at the Athenee Palace.
That's the place to find
out what's going on.
- Last night, coming home
in the taxi, I heard shots.
- So you did!
There you are.
You see, you're extraordinary, too.
(upbeat orchestral music)
- You Yakimov?
- Yes, dear boy, me Yakimov.
- Deputising for McCann?
- Oh, I like to do my bit.
- Galpin.
Echo.
Any news about last night?
- Oh, well, yes.
It was quite a party.
- I'll say.
The old formula.
Someone inside creates a disturbance,
then the bastards march in to keep order.
- The old formula.
Quite.
- It's obviously the
work of the Iron Guard.
- Iron Guard?
- Nazi sympathisers, right-wing fascists.
- And the Germans will
be here within the week.
- Impossible.
The Russians have moved
into Eastern Poland.
- The Nazis will go through the Russkies
like a hot knife through butter.
- I say, dear girl, do
tell what's going on.
- Haven't you heard
about the assassination?
- Assassination, no.
Who assassinated who?
- A group of young men killed
the Prime Minister last night
and then drove to the broadcasting studios
and announced he was dead, or dying.
They didn't know which.
- I'd have thought assassins
were more efficient than that.
- They filled him full of lead.
Clung to the car door, little
pink hands, striped trousers.
Then he slid down, patches
of dust on the side
of his patent leather shoes.
- I say, that's awfully good.
Yeah.
Did you write that?
Were you there?
- It was seen.
Now the frontier's closed,
international lines dead,
and they won't let us send any cables.
- Oh, well.
Saves you a job, dear boy.
Might as well have another drink.
(bell rings)
(speaking in foreign language)
- Cables can now be sent
from the Central Post Office.
- On your feet.
- I don't think I should
go out today, dear boy.
Feeling a little fragile.
- Are you doing McCann's job or not?
Hmm? Come on.
Got the story?
German plot.
Excuse to march in and take over.
- Not quite sure how
to spell assassination.
- McCann is one of my oldest
and dearest friends and I'm not
having his reputation
ruined by a twerp like you.
Here.
- I'm deeply grateful, dear boy.
Not really an artisan.
- We haven't finished.
- [Yakimov] Where are we going?
- Marketplace.
- [Yakimov] Shopping?
- They've got the chaps that did it.
- The assassins?
- Yeah, picked them up during the night.
Executed.
They're on display in the market.
- You mean corpses?
- Yeah.
(church bells ringing)
See, that one wasn't dead
when they pitched him out.
- Well, quite.
- See how he twitched?
- Can't blame a chap for twitching.
Dear boy, I haven't recovered
from yesterday's corpses.
- Today the Minister
for Press and Propaganda
will give us the official
version of the assassination.
Should be free drinks.
- Oh.
(bell rings)
- Today Romania, with a broken heart,
announces the tragic
loss of her much-loved
son and premier, Armand Calinescu.
Assassinated by six students,
who failed to pass their baccalaureate.
While attempting to forgive this mad act
of disappointed youth, the
nation is prostrate with grief.
You have all been very naughty, you know?
With your fantasies.
You are guests in a neutral kingdom.
We wish no quarrel with our neighbours.
- What a load of bollocks.
Minister?
Could you tell us which
fantasies you were talking about?
- The fantasies that the assassins
were Iron Guardists in German pay.
That the Germans had planned an invasion.
Please, remember.
It was announced by his
glorious majesty the King
that not a single Guardist
remains alive in this country.
And yet,
and yet,
a reputable journalist
of a famous newspaper
accused our great and glorious King,
father of culture, father of his people,
of being behind this fiendish murder.
On investigation, we
learn that this journalist
is a sick man, wounded
while driving out of Poland.
Nevertheless, as soon as he is capable,
he and his associates
will be ordered to leave.
- Those bodies.
They looked pretty old for students.
- In this country, we
have students of all ages.
Some remain at the
university all their lives.
- Hideous.
- Yes, well, Inchcape will
put them in their place.
Oh, very impressive.
Have we won the minds of
the people yet, Clarence?
(laughs)
- Can you imagine what they have sent us,
the British Wartime Propaganda?
Travel posters.
(laughs)
Shakespeare country.
The Lake District.
The Broads.
- Oh, yes.
That should impress the Iron Guard.
- The Iron Guard is destroyed.
The King said so.
- Who's this?
- Brenda.
- Your fiance?
- Yes.
- Where's Inchcape?
- Attending the funeral.
Official guest.
Professor of English and Director of
Misinformation to the Balkans.
He's also sulking.
- Doesn't he like funerals?
- I've taken on an extra job.
I've been asked to organise Polish relief.
No salary, just expenses and a car.
- What's it mean?
- Everybody in England
is busily knitting socks
and pullovers for the gallant Poles.
I have to make sure that they
reach the said gallant Poles.
- [Harriet] What else
is happening in England?
- Everybody's been
digging up their gardens,
putting in air-raid shelters.
As soon as it rained,
they filled up with water.
- [Harriet] No air raids?
- Give the Germans time.
They're doing quite
well with their U-boats.
- The Druckers live there, but
they own next door as well.
In fact, I think they
own the whole street.
- Unusual friends for a man like you.
- Sasha is a brilliant student.
And his father is charming.
- Even though he's a capitalist hyena?
- One learns to live with
contradictions, darling.
- Are you enjoying
Bucharest, Doamna Pringle?
- I find it very strange.
Not like England.
But I've found much kindness here.
- Apart from the Legation women,
who have diplomatic immunity,
Harriet is the only
English woman left here.
- You're forgetting Bella Nicolescu.
She's an Englishwoman.
(speaking in foreign language)
- Bella Niculescu is
a very tiresome woman.
You wouldn't have much in common with her.
- You don't like her?
Neither me.
- She's a bourgeois reactionary.
- I do business with bourgeois
reactionaries every day,
my dear Guy.
- Yes, Emmanuel.
Well, then, perhaps
you can confirm or deny
the rumour that I have heard.
That there will soon be
complete financial collapse
in Germany and the war will be short.
- There will be no collapse.
We're Jewish.
- You are Jewish.
I am Romanian.
- We do not love the Germans.
But we didn't cause the war.
We must live.
A banker upholds the existing order.
- Supposing the order ceases to exist?
Supposing the Nazis come here?
- The Nazis will not come here.
The Russians will prevent that happening.
- Such faith you have in the Russians.
- Something must happen.
The workers in this country
are scandalously underpaid.
As for the peasants--
- The peasants are beasts.
They are hopeless.
- There is room for all here.
There is work and food for all.
The Romanians are content to do nothing
but eat, sleep and make love.
The Jews and foreigners run the country.
Should we be persecuted
because we work hard?
- The Germans will persecute you.
The Russians will not.
- Who can say?
All I want is that my son should lead
a decent and peaceful life.
(speaks in foreign language)
(lighthearted music)
- Yakimov.
- Got your message, dear boy.
Now, I gathered you wanted a word?
- Give me my press card back.
- You know, I still don't
know what I've done wrong.
- I'll tell you.
You've run up a bill during the last month
amounting to 200,000 lei.
You've got me deported.
You've sent out stories in my name
that were just scandals and rumour.
- Oh, yes.
But I thought you liked
hot news, dear boy.
I kept my ears open in the bar.
Listened.
Warmed it up a bit.
Galpin helped.
Decent fellow.
- Galpin works for another paper.
If our paper sinks with all hands,
his paper will be delighted, understand?
- Hardly at all, dear boy.
- Goodbye forever, thank Christ.
- Well, this is absolutely
splendid, darling.
- Thank you.
- It's splendid!
Really splendid.
And you negotiated the
whole thing yourself
with the landlord?
- Mostly in French.
- You don't speak French, do you?
- Neither did he.
But that's what we spoke.
And..
Despina helped.
- Despina?
(speaks in foreign language)
It seems the servant comes with the flat.
- What is she talking about, more room?
(speaks in foreign language)
Oh, I see.
This is a luxury flat.
It has two servants' bedrooms.
- Isn't that a storeroom?
- No, no!
(speaks in foreign language)
- It's a shed.
- No, no!
(speaks in foreign language)
- I don't understand.
Where's the other one?
- Ah, my room in the
kitchen, Mrs. Pringle.
- I thought that was a cupboard.
- Yes, well, in Romania,
servants usually sleep in cupboards.
(speaks in foreign language)
- Royal Palace.
- Good heavens.
So it is.
Darling, you've performed miracles!
- Sophie gave me the address.
- Well, even so.
- It's nice to be at the centre of things.
- Wherever we are.
That will always be the centre of things.
(sinister music)
(upbeat piano music)
- So what's he charged with?
- Buying money on the black market.
- That's nonsense.
- What's the real reason?
- He's a banker, he's
Jewish, he's pro-British.
That's enough for a Romanian government.
- They say about him
his heart is in England,
but his pocket in Berlin.
- What about the family?
- I've heard nothing.
- I must go and see them.
Sasha will be in a terrible state.
- You haven't drunk your tea.
- You'll keep Harriet company, won't you?
- It's my pleasure.
- Will Drucker be able to
buy himself out of prison?
- I doubt it.
- [Harriet] Why?
- His money is out of the country.
Mostly in Switzerland.
He could go to it, but
it can't come to him.
- There seems to be no answer.
- There is no answer.
- You must be Guy's new wife!
- Yes.
- Bella Niculescu.
My husband, Nikko.
- Delighted to meet you.
- Guy disapproves of me totally.
He thinks I'm a reactionary,
but that's no reason why
we shouldn't be friends.
- Enchante, madame.
- You must come and have tea with me.
- I'd love to.
- And how's life at the British Legation?
- In the circumstances,
one can't complain.
- One might be coming to you
for sanctuary before long.
Excuse me, we're meeting friends.
We'll have tea and talk
about Guy behind his back.
Is that reasonable?
- Extremely.
- Goodbye.
- Bye.
What does Nikko do?
- Nothing.
- Bella's rich?
- Bella's rich.
- Sasha's disappeared.
So have the rest of the family.
- How do you know?
- I asked a secret policeman.
- Imagine.
That big house, that powerful family.
No more secure than we are.
(sinister music)
- Dear boy, you seem to have
presented me with this bill.
- Mon cher Prince, if you cannot pay,
I must present this matter
to the British Legation.
- 24 hours?
- 24 hours.
- I was thinking of
moving into the Minerva.
- The Minerva is full of Germans.
- Yaki's not a proud man.
- And the Minerva is almost as expensive
as the Athenee Palace.
You must try to live within your means.
- I have no means.
That's my difficulty.
- You must find yourself
a bed-sitting room.
- A bed-sitting room?
- Did you really have
to invite that woman?
- She's on her own.
- Yes.
Well, in that case, you won't mind that
I've invited Lawson and Inchcape.
- Well, they'll bring their own wine.
- And, um, and Yakimov.
- Anybody else?
- Yes, well, I did just
mention to Sophie--
- Sophie!
(humming)
Wonderful.
Just there.
- Ah!
Merry Christmas, Yaki!
- Merry Christmas, old boy.
I took the liberty of
bringing an old friend.
Met him in the English Bar.
Lonely.
A long way from home.
- Dubedat.
Humble member of the proletariat.
- Merry Christmas!
- Merry Christmas.
- What a lovely surprise.
Another chair, Despina.
(speaks in foreign language)
(laughs)
- Who's this?
I think somebody's just come in.
Well, hello!
Happy Christmas!
- Harriet, darling, Happy Christmas!
I managed to..
- Despina!
(speaks in foreign language)
Well, God help us, everyone.
- Absent friends.
- Dear departed, and we're not
forgetting good old England.
- And peace in our time,
if I may be so bold.
- [All] Cheers.
- Where are you staying
in Bucharest, Mr. Dubedat?
- Calae Plevna, with
a family of poor Jews.
The poorest of the poor.
The only decent folk in this dirty,
depraved, God-forsaken capital.
- More turkey, anyone?
(phone ringing)
- I'll get it.
- If that's Neville Chamberlain,
tell him what he can do
with his piece of paper, eh?
(laughs)
- Darling!
Where are you?
Why aren't you here?
- Sophie.
- Yes, look, we're missing you.
Sophie.
She says she's too depressed
to come to the party.
She's threatening to
do something desperate.
(jeers)
- [Harriet] Such as?
- Such as take an overdose
or jump out of the window.
- Excuse me.
Go ahead and jump!
(cheering)
♪ Should auld acquaintance be forgot ♪
♪ And never brought to mind ♪
♪ Should auld acquaintance be forgot ♪
♪ For the sake of auld lang syne ♪
♪ For auld lang syne, my dear ♪
♪ For auld lang syne ♪
- This is a New Year's
song, not a Christmas song.
- Yeah, well, it's the
principle of the thing.
- What principle?
- Well, I can't remember but.
♪ Auld lang syne ♪
♪ For auld lang syne my dear ♪
- Bye-bye now.
Merry Christmas, thanks for coming.
- Thank you.
- Good night.
Thank you very much indeed, bye-bye.
- Goodbye.
- Now I really must go, darling.
- Go?
Go where?
- Well, to Sophie.
Make sure she's all right.
- We'll both go.
- That isn't necessary, is it?
- If she jumped out of the window,
it will need both of us to carry her.
That didn't take long.
I assume she didn't
jump out of the window.
- No.
- Overdose?
- No.
She really is a very silly woman.
And you really are a very sensible woman.
And Merry Christmas.
- Merry Christmas.
- Look. Winter.
- You promised me a sleigh ride.
- Did I?
This way.
(upbeat music)