The Great (2020–…): Season 1, Episode 1 - The Great - full transcript

I overheard my father talking last night.

He said your father is a fool,

that you have practically no money,
and that you'll soon lose everything.

I don't think that's true.
We had strawberries last night.

So?
They are an expensive fruit,

and I always equate them
with optimism and happiness.

God, you are a child.
Not true.

I am to be married!

Who would marry you?

Does this crazy man know
your family situation?

That you have nothing?
He cares not for such matters.

Emperor Peter and I are
about finer things.

Emperor Peter?

Of Russia?

Yep.

Russia.

I am to be empress of Russia, Angeline.

Isn't that so...

completely right?

No! Yes.

No. Yes!

No.

Da.

Nyet.

They have bears.

I may get one.

They look cute.

Door!

Emperor.

You look taller in your portrait.

Send her back. Get me a tall one.

Rich. Rich.

See what I did, then?

I'm kidding. Kidding.

Oh, I see. Um, very amusing.

Emperor Peter,

I present this branch of spruce.

It is an evergreen, and I hope it will be
a symbol of our feelings for each other,

that we will be constant and caring
all our lives.

She gave me a twig.
She's not another inbred, is she?

It wasn't mentioned.

I assure you, I am of sound mind, sir.

I wanted to thank you for your letter.

Noble, poetic sentiments.

It, it warmed my heart.

I, too, wish the same as you.

That our love will grow from a small ember

to a blaze that will warm
a whole kingdom.

I wrote a letter?
We threw a little something together.

How about that?
Well, you liked it, so that's grand.

Welcome.
I hope I will make you happy.

You're perfect.

I need an empress who's from aristocracy,

but not from a family that is powerful
or a player.

Your family, apparently, are fucked.
Hmm.

You smell funny. Is that usual?

I...

I have been traveling.
Let's hope that's it.

Wedding's at seven.

Archbishop Samsa will now
give you instructions.

Boy, you're cute.
I have to get back to my whores.

Horses. Horses.

Going riding. Hmm.

He seems lovely.

Obviously some cultural issues
may be at play,

but I will soon get used to that
and we will be as one.

Hmm. Aren't you gorgeously optimistic?

It has been said.
I believe there's no other way to be.

Indeed. And how is your relationship
with the Lord our God?

We've had no trouble.

You must allow me to be
a spiritual mentor to you,

a guide touched by God.

Of course. Thank you.

This is Marial. She'll be your girl.

Empress.

I now need to find out if you're intact.

I'm sorry?

Whether your interior wall
has been breached.

What wall are we talking about?

My...
It is the way of things,

a tradition for royalty.

Lay down.

Oh. Okay.

Empress.

It is the latest from Paris.

You recognize it, no doubt?

I do not, but...

I recognize it as... special.

General, stop staring at the empress.

It will attract his attention.

She is a vision of radiance.

I must make my introduction.
Bad idea.

This fucking duck is delicious.
Do you not find?

Indeed.

Ever eaten duck as good as this, Archie?
I have not.

Ever eaten pussy?

I have not.
Oh, God is a cruel master.

Empress, this is Velementov,

my general in charge
of our war on the Swedes.

I saw soldiers on the road on my trip.

Oh. Did they look happy?

They seemed scattered and badly wounded.

Oh shit, maybe we lost.
Velementov, you horse's bitch.

Sir, I have heard no definitive report
from the front.

However, a rider who is expected‐‐.

Go on! Go on!

You are so beautiful.

It's like the sun has floated
into our court and exploded.

Thank you.
I am Aunt Elizabeth,

much younger sister to his dear,
long‐departed mother.

You may call me Bet.

No one else may call me that.

Oh, well, some do, a few, and now you.

It is wonderful to meet you.

Be kind to him. He's a delicate soul.

Huzzah!

I miss my mother today.

How she would have loved this.

She was the last empress of Russia.

Huzzah!

But a toast to my new wife,

the new empress of Russia!

Huzzah!

It is a‐‐
No, you don't talk, my love.

Oh. Of course.

So, a wedding gift
for my new wife seems in order.

I hope you like it.

Oh.

Thank you.

Huzzah! ALL: Huzzah!

Let us drink!

Drink! Drink!

Madam, where are
the rest of your clothes?

Oh, they're somewhere, I'm sure.

Me, a married woman,

how I dreamt of this.

Congratulations.

And did I tell you about the bear?

You did, but I am happy
to hear it again.

I once dreamed of‐‐
well, I had a vision of a bear,

and the bear embraced me,
and my heart was aflame.

And from that moment,
I always knew I'd have a great love.

Um, madam, if I may speak.

You do know, um... uh...

Are you ready for tonight?
You do know what to expect?

You suppose me more naive than I am.
My mother has explained everything.

She has?

The man caresses you softly,

pressing his lips to yours.

Your breasts and skin awaken

and shiver with palpitating joy.

Between your legs quivers
and moistens with longing.

He enters you and you become one.

Your bodies meld, your souls mesh.

As a sensation takes hold of you,

you fall into a black sky
filled with the shiniest of stars.

You float for a time in ecstasy,

before waves of pleasure push
and pull you back into your body.

Your body ushers forth yelps,
and sometimes song,

before he and you explode within,

collapsing together, spent and unified.

Then, you lay together,

laughing softly,

weeping occasionally with ecstatic joy,

and finally, he wraps his arms around you,

whispers poetry softly into your ear,

and you fall into a...
delicious sleep.

Yep, that's pretty much it.

Grigor? It's him.

Good luck.

Hmm? Ducks?

He was saying it will bring
the ducks to you,

instead of you having to find them.

My dearest Peter.

But then he does it,
he blows this caller.

I don't believe it, and then‐‐
Empress.

The fucking ducks come from everywhere,

but not like four or five, like, 50.

That's hilarious.
Truly comical. Fucking ducks everywhere,

and we all just started running for cover.

Firing like crazy,

ducks are dropping, people are screaming.

Oh, I'd love to see it.
Well, we'll get him to do it again.

No, but this time, we will‐‐.

We'll watch from the balcony,
no danger to us.

Marvelous.

Let us hope my seed has found purchase.

Have a pleasant evening, Empress.

Grigor, shall we crack
that new vodka from Kiev?

Huzzah.

Love Peter.

Make him love me.

Find culture and education here.

Are you all right, Empress?

Quite fabulous.

Last night was all... all right?
As you'd imagined?

To be honest, it was brief.

Brief is often a relief.

And not as much... as I had imagined.

I'm sorry, 'cause I had thought
of warning you.

It is possible I had an overly
romantic view of its unfolding.

I do that.

Well, you would not be the first.

The truth is, we do not know each other.

Our love is an ember,

a mere spark,

and I must blow on it
with the full force of my lungs,

so that it bursts into passionate flames.

Right.

Shall you breakfast here or in the garden?

I will breakfast with my husband.

Where's that?

I am not to be disturbed.
I will cut your throat.

I'd rather you kiss it, dear husband.

Oh, hello.

What do you want?

Maid!

Bring the emperor two raw eggs,

tomato juice, salt, pepper,
and a jigger of vodka.

Shake and pour it into a glass.
No.

I like to be alone in the morning.
I'm sure you did, but now,

we shall greet the day together,

with sunny dispositions
and fearless hearts.

Mm. Hello, dog.

My father liked to imbibe heavily.

This was his solution
to the morning troubles.

It has vodka in it?

Huzzah!

I like it. Yes, that's better.
You are a witch.

You must break a lot of glasses.
Yes, I suppose we do.

Come.

Shall we perhaps picnic today?

This is Mother.

I would not bury her.

I could not bear the thought
of never seeing her.

Oh. She is pretty.

Mother, this is Catherine.

It is my honor.

She was a goddess.
Extraordinary. Powerful.

No one like her.

Strangely, I felt paralyzed
whenever she was around.

Someone should work out what goes on
between a chap and his mother.

There'd be money in that.

I suppose so.

Right. That's done.

Where shall we go now?
I have men's things.

Madame Georgina Dymov.
Emperor.

Take the empress to the other ladies,
and speak of hats.

Of course.

It may indeed be pleasant
to have a wife.

Yes. It is pleasant.

Velementov, come here, you fat fuck!

Come here!

Let us walk.

He is a mercurial fellow.

Deep of heart, I feel.

A curious jester.

How sweet you are.

I could put you in my mouth
and you would dissolve.

Then do not, for I am too happy.

I will be your dearest friend
and confidante.

You will need one.

Most of the women have tongues
in the shape of a cat‐o'‐nine‐tails.

Oh, Empress! Empress.

Oh, Empress!

Congratulations!

Hats have just arrived from Paris.

You must know all the latest.

On... hats?

I've never been much interested in hats.

However, have any of you read

the latest Rousseau, The Social Contract?

I have a copy if you would like.

A delightful jest. Bravo.

We cannot read.

None of you?
It is... not done.

And seems dull.
And time‐consuming.

Anyways, more interestingly,

Captain Dostovey is seeing Lenka.

That is nice.

It is, unless you're his wife.

Oh, there is champagne
being set outside.

Shall we roll balls on the lawn?

What happens now?

Well, they bring them back up,
and then we do it all again.

I see.

For how long? All afternoon.

Empress.

You seem tired.
Might I escort you to your apartments?

Indeed.

I am.

Marial, you speak out of turn.

You must wait for the empress

or one of the ladies of court
to address you.

You cannot just speak.

You may rip my tongue
from my foolish body, dear Lady Svenska,

or try to, and we shall see
what develops from there.

Remember your place, Marial.

My apologies, ladies.
Sometimes I...

forget who I am.

Well, we are within our rights
to whip you to remind you if needs be.

- A bit harsh.
- Marial has apologized,

are we are all reminded of where we stand.

In time, she will adjust.

Empress, would you like Marial
to escort you to your apartments?

Indeed.

Perhaps I shall see you later.

That is the beautiful thing, my dear.

You will see us every day now.

They do not read.

No wonder they're cruel and vapid.

We must feel for them.
It is impossible.

Do you wish to explain
the exchange on the lawn?

Not particularly.

Do it anyway.

I was, until recently,
a lady of the court.

My father fucked with the emperor,

and so he made us all servants.
To humiliate you?

It was uncharacteristically
clever of him.

It serves as a standing warning
to all the court,

you could wake up tomorrow
shoveling shit.

That's sad.

You best be careful, then.

It is unfortunately not part
of my nature.

If you are a servant,
your nature's not relevant,

and your insolence will get you beaten.

I don't want that.

It is well put. I shall try.

You, I like, very much.
And I, you.

Inside, you are still a lady,
albeit an angry one.

Husband. Wife?

Huzzah.

Stop that. Move over.

Come, Empress.

And join us. It'll be romping good fun.

Oh, for fuck's sake. Do not be boring
and have a peasant's morality.

And do not look at me
AS MOTHER WOULD: Disdainful and hurt.

I will not fucking stand for it.

I want you in this bed. Please?

Please, make your husband happy.
Is that not what you came here to do?

Come on.

Oh. Sorry, um... Grigor.

We met at the wedding.

She is your wife. Yes.

And he is my emperor, and I love him.

So, that is... that.

Is it not hard, though, to share?

Marriage is a struggle
on a number of levels.

I'm beginning to see that.

If you spy a rabbit,
point but do not yell.

It must be an enormous
responsibility and honor

to lead a country of such import.

It's actually not that hard.

The decisions must weigh heavy.

No. Not really. I was born to rule.

Rabbit!

Damn!

I would like to be useful to Russia,
to help its greatness.

You will bear my heirs.
There is no higher use.

You are blessed.

Are you with child yet?
I am not.

I must empty myself into you again soon.

Rabbit.

Damn!

I thought perhaps
I could help in education.

There's an explosion of ideas in France.

And an explosion of syphilis in Kiev.

What?

It is a joke.
You are slow of mind and wit.

Gents, I said there is an explosion
of syphilis in Kiev.

Did you roll colored balls
with the ladies?

Mm. Briefly.
It is a lark. What fun.

We are, in fact, modernizing
in a European way.

I have banned beards in men under 50.
It is a better look.

The big Russian beards look like men
are eating a whole beaver,

and it will not do.
Beards. Yes, indeed.

My question is, can I fund a small school?

Will it stop you talking
about dull things?

And I jest, of course. Sort of.

It will.
If it makes you happy, you may do it.

Talk to Bettina for funds.

Let us drink. MEN: Yes! Huzzah!

Huzzah!

Now let us fight.

Come on. Fight back, fatso!
And stay!

Hit me!

Oh. Oh!

Finally, some fight in the military.
About fucking time.

PETER Oh, Rich. Rich.

MEN
Peter! Peter! Peter!

Rabbit.

We will paint it.

Brighten it up.

Some chairs will be
brought over from the palace.

May I... learn? You must.

Where is the library?

The what? Well, books.

We must have books.

And perhaps we could have talks on ideas.

Like I said, 45‐degree angle.

- And a full arm swing?
- Exactly.

Actually, I know where the books are.

Shit.

What are you reading?
Uh, a, a book.

Uh, by a fellow, uh...

a, a brilliant fellow called
René Descartes.

And you were moved?

I'm, I'm sorry.

Uh, it, it is embarrassing and unmanly.

I'm such a dickhead. Fuck.

His ideas light the mind. I told him so.

You know him?
I only met him the once.

He seemed sweet and smelt of cheese,

but... what a mind.

Yes.

I am Count Orlo.

Orlo. A pleasure.

Pleasure.

I am seeking books to put in my school.

Your school?

The emperor has ordained
I should have a school.

I will teach women to read,

and, hopefully, talk much on Descartes.

You, sir... you're welcome to help me.

So talk, Velementov.

The, uh...
the battle... it did not go as hoped.

Fuck! Again, why are we losing? Anyone?

Anyone?

I believe I called for a halt
and a regroup.

Uh, my opinion‐Blame!

Blame.

I would have won if what?

What, the rest of us had not an opinion?

It seems a good summation
of Velementov's rather churlish attitude.

And yet possibly true.

His plans are often twisted by the group,

when in fact,
he is a brilliant strategist.

Thank you, sir.

I believe Orlo will now
talk of suing for peace

as he revels in our losses.

Is that true, Orlo?
You revel in our losses?

No, sir. Um‐‐

I will stuff this marble
deep in your ass if it is.

Fuck! What do we do?

Well, the archbishop started this war
when God sent him a vision.

Perhaps he could revisit this vision

and provide more details on how to win it.

God has called us to it. We must win it.

God is all care
and no responsibility at times.

I do not doubt the Russian fighting man,

and it is treasonous to do so.

We lost some 1,800 lives.

God damn it.

Well, how does that look?

Bad. Bad, is how,
in case anyone was wondering.

My father won battles.
He expanded the kingdom.

I also do not like
all the limbless soldiers, in the halls.

It casts a pall over the fun of a ball

when so many can't dance.

I can win this for us.

So do.

On another matter,

uh, may I commend the emperor

on his decision to allow
the empress a school.

I make women happy, Orlo.

Sometimes they yelp like newborn puppies.
It's a lovely thing.

You should try it, if your cock ever
finds its way out of your hand,

into a woman.

Uh, indeed.

Blushing. God, you're a virgin.

I'd like to approve the texts
she wishes to teach.

She may bring new ideas from the West.

The French are affecting Europe's thinking
in a distressing way.

In an astounding way
that blows light into our age.

The fact that women will be part of this,

as I believe, is a stunning
achievement for our nation

and will be celebrated across Europe.

Women? What?

They burned down my school!

You must seek justice.
Wreak havoc upon them!

Oh, you did not say
this school was for girls.

Did I not? PETER: No.

Yes!

Women here cannot read.
And they shall not.

Women are for seeding, not reading.

Huh. Pithy. Gents, I said
women are for seeding, not reading.

You burned my school down.
I did.

Well, you may go.
I forgive you, of course,

as I am of gentle heart and massive cock.

Gentlemen, I said
I am of gentle heart and massive cock.

Huzzah!
You are disgusting!

You don't lie to me again!

Ooh!
Oh, you are admirably quick.

Huh. Huzzah! MEN: Huzzah!

Right. Who's next? Ivan?

Did you see Grigor carrying
two baby ducks everywhere yesterday?

Hilarious.

Nipping at vodka in his pocket, they were.

We do not have to breakfast together.

I wish it to bring us closer.
How is that working?

May I read a passage from Diderot?

Orlo found it for me.
Orlo is a lobcock.

A smart one, and handy for
the thinking part of running the country.

And I do not care who fucks who,
as long as one fucks.

Though I suspect he does not even do that.

What sort of a life is that?

Just musing.

So I shall read. PETER: Mm.

"Man will never be free
until the last king has been strangled

with the entrails of the last priest."

Love it.

Bye.

Zeus. Come on.

Are you pregnant?

No. Annoying.

Come on.

I hate you.

What the fuck's going on, Archie?

You said she was the one.

You said you'd seen it.
You said she'd make me happy.

I...
Do I look happy? Grigor, my face.

Oh, discontented at the minimum.
At the fucking minimum.

Remind me of this vision.

He saw her name drawn in the sand

on a beach where Jesus was walking.

All marriages take time to‐‐.

My parents' didn't, and mine should not.

- You need to fix her.
- I will not be...

Ugly with discontent?
Exactly.

You throw like Orlo.

Is it not beautiful?

Yes.

I'll tell you a secret.

If you look closely, that icon is rusting,

and that one is bent at the side.

Nothing, of course, is perfect.

You refer metaphorically
to the marriage?

I liked you the moment I‐‐.

Put your fingers inside me.

It was distressing for me
as it was for you.

I doubt that.

There's a way of things here.

And a way of things with Peter.
I have tried.

We think our hearts are spent.

God refills them
if we can but find the...

Ladle? Indeed.

So you would like me to try.

An unhappy emperor makes
rash decisions that affect millions.

This is bigger than you
and your happiness.

Your father has already been through
his initial payment from us

and been back for more,
and we furnished him with this,

but that tap can be turned off.

I cannot be happy here.
I'm not asking you that.

I'm asking you to pretend.

People underestimate the joy in suffering.

Walk through the pain...

and on the other side...

joy and purity.

And I do love the smell.

Empress.

General? VELEMENTOV: I was...

I saw you in the sun
and I worried for your alabaster skin.

I felt if I positioned myself
at 90 degrees,

my torso would provide shade cover.

I trust my interruption is forgivable?

I am happy in the sun.

I imagine myself floating in the sky,
far from here.

But I appreciate your thoughtfulness.

How goes the war? Uh...

Ups and downs.

There's some conjecture
as to the best way forward.

I fear paralysis, but, uh...

We must, uh...
We trust the emperor's wisdom.

Is that wise?

I...

My father was in the military.

He said that to some,
war is merely a chess game,

and to others, a horror of responsibility
for the blood of men.

Where do you fall on this?

You win the chess game,

you win men's lives.

That's how I see it.

Good day. I‐You...

look... lovely... again.

Empress!

The party!

Someone refill this fucking samovar.

Explain it to me.
It's called a sight.

Your eye falls between the two marks,

and then your target lines up with it.

I have perfect aim, though.
Oh, but to less perfect hunters

than your royal self, it is a boon,

and accurate up to 50 yards.

No. I don't believe it.

Aah! Gah!

Sorry, Sergei.

I prick my maid's finger,
add a few drops of blood to the cream,

and it creates this rosy hue.

You lie.

There's no point owning these people
if you can't use them as you wish.

Your wig, Madame Svenska,
it's not supposed to be like that.

They are meant to be fitted to your heads.

They are not hats.

Fool!

Cheer up, my darling. It is a party.

Eat this. I don't‐‐.

It's moose‐lips mousse. Is it not divine?

Though one cannot help but wonder,

where is the moose
and what's he doing now?

Come, my dears.

Shall we walk in the garden, Empress?

Yes. I could use some fresh air.

Oh, dear. Someone's cross.

Good shot, huh?

We've got problems, haven't we?

You are the only person
who has not loved me.

It is inconceivable to me
and says nothing good about you.

If you had shown me
an ounce of kindness,

I was ready with a heart full of love.

You look really pretty.

My heart is breaking.

I miss home.

I'm lonely for family,

friends, fun, ideas,

strawberries.

And I need my cock sucked.
What?

Well, we're sharing, right, our needs?

Just let me go home, please.

That's not going to happen.

Strawberries, I'll work on.

Friends... the women at court?

Gossiping morons,

obsessed with the next affair
or dalliance.

You're so judgmental.

You might want to look at that.

I mean, you know your problem?
You have no idea how lucky you are.

Soldiers are dying.
Because of you.

Serfs beaten daily.
You could stop that.

If you would just read
these books with me,

these ideas that are sweeping Europe:

Justice, humanity,
every man a valued soul.

We could rule Russia
in a different manner‐‐.

No, I rule. You serve.
Is it that difficult to understand?

What happened to that happy little girl
who gave me a twig?

She died.

Seems overly dramatic.
I am mostly kind to you.

Do I beat you?

I suffer the blows
of your disdain daily.

It's not the same
as actual blows, though, is it?

Well...
What, you don't know?

Well, compare, and get back to me.

Mother and Father never acted like this.

My mother was a saint.

I'm glad she's not alive to see this.

Not that I'm glad she's dead. I'm not.

Never. Sometimes.

Just once.

Don't look at me like that.
You're a disappointment to me, too.

I do not need a wife with
a poisonous mouth and a dry cunny.

I will shut you up at my pleasure.

You will try and fail.
You will be happy.

You will die here in content old age,

having given me many hours
of pleasure and service,

and many heirs.

Boys, preferably.

I do have a temper and some rage.
You cannot cross me.

Especially not in front of others,
or you will pay.

Endlessly.

And you will never win.

You'll just be in pain.

Are you all right, Empress?

I would be better if I had wings.

Might I suggest vodka instead?

I'm a fool, Marial.

A great love.

I looked at myself
in the mirror and laughed

at my own stupid face this morning.

Do you want one?

I resolve to know my place.

Yet you brought two glasses.

I need you to help me escape this place.

I would be signing my own death warrant.

A carriage is all I need.
I'm sorry.

I cannot.

Sorry to startle you.

You didn't. You reek of incense.

I smelt you five minutes ago.

How is she? Unhappy.

Hmm. She wants to leave.

And how are you?

Learning my place.

Hmm. I doubt that'll ever happen.

Uh, sir‐‐.

Uh...

Escort the empress back.

Would you like a cake
with that knife, Empress?

Do not try to stop me. Just leave me be.

I would not presume to speak.

For the empress is so smart,

and book readingly,

that I'm sure her judgment is sound.

I am resolved.

Vlad will get a bucket for the blood.

Yes, miss.

There is no other way.

- I am a prisoner here.
- Indeed.

Married to an idiot.

This has never happened
to a woman before.

Yes, but to an emperor.

He's a madman.
He‐He is one of a kind.

It is true.

Towels, too, Vlad.

There may be some overflow.

What am I to do?
Just live at someone else's whim?

God forbid, Empress.

Ever since I was a child,
I felt like greatness was in store for me.

A great life, I felt.

Like God himself had spat me forth
to land on this Earth

and in some way transform it.

That I was here for a reason, a purpose.

Why did He make you a woman, then?

For comedy, I guess.

That idea now feels like some delusion
when I'm trapped here.

Yet I felt it, Marial, in my being...

deep in my bones.

It is not a lineage.

What? MARIAL: Russia...

it does not go to an heir
if there is not one.

If the emperor dies,
it goes to the empress.

What do you mean?

I'm just giving you a lesson
on how things work here.

You're also not the only unhappy one.
There are men here, unhappy,

who are looking for a leader.

And is there one?

I hope I am looking at her.

Me?

I'm a foolish child.
But what if you are not?

What if your vision of the bear,
and the great love,

your heart filled and glowing,

what if that great love was Russia itself?

Not Peter.

I will get coins to place on your eyes.

Huzzah.