All language subtitles for A Gentleman in Moscow - 01x07 - An Assembly.SuccessfulCrab.English.C.updated.Addic7ed.com

Surely you understand

that she's becoming a young woman.

Yes, of course, it's not that, but...

nobody told me.

What, that children grow?

You need to leave, now.

No, I can't go back.

- I have a wife to consider.
- And a daughter.

We all do what's necessary to survive

so our loved ones survive.

You once believed all people
should have the opportunity

and freedom to become
whatever they wanted in life.

Everyone has dreams, Mishka.

Only children believe
them after they wake up.

We should all be silent.

Russian bread!

You will never see your friend again.

This hotel is a dangerous place.

It's only going to get
worse. Especially for you.

There's no sign of him.

Then we wait.

Stop.

I said stop!

To our glorious leader...

Stalin.

- Stalin.
- Stalin.

- When was Sofia due to finish?
- Ten o'clock.

I expected them back over an hour ago.

Audrius, why don't we make

one of our fabulous cocktails

- to pass the time?
- Yeah.

The Golden Rod would seem the
obvious choice for the occasion.

Well, thank you, Richard,

but I-I really don't
think that's very wise.

Yes, particularly as that
was your wife on the phone,

wondering when you'd
return to the embassy.

- Hmm.
- Don't let me keep you, Richard.

- And give my love to Yvette.
- Alexander.

Oh.

Well, what happened?

Oh, it-it was the Mozart, wasn't it?

You should've followed your instincts

- and gone with the Rachmaninoff.
- I won.

- You won?
- Yes.

You won? She won!

Oh, I knew it! I never
doubted you for a second.

If only you could have heard it, Sasha.

And the applause!

It shook the dust from the chandeliers.

Oh, my wonderful, brilliant Sofia.

I wish I could have
been there to see it.

I wish you could, too.

Notre champion! Emile has
prepared your favorite.

A Dobos torte with chocolate cream.

We were going to wait to see if you won,

but Emile was so sure,

just started baking anyway.

This is all too much.
Thank you, everyone.

She hasn't told you the best bit yet.

What's this?

After the competition,
they announced the winner

will join the Conservatory's
tour of Europe.

She's going to Paris,
Prague and ending in Minsk.

- There you go.
- Thank you.

Thank you.

Sofia!

What's the problem?

It's just Beethoven.

Stalin banned the blues and
he's gone, last I checked.

Yes!

Brava!

Hmm.

I should think...

beets would accompany the
pork just as well as apples.

And half the cost.

Y-You would think that.

Have the menus changed.

There will be a private dinner
for 20 people in suite 417,

the Saturday after next.

Party business.

And the Novikovs

will be in the restaurant
later this week.

Give them a bottle of
Domaine de la Roman-Cont

on the house, please.

You mean Domaine de la Romanée-Conti?

Inform them that it comes
at the behest of the manager.

Go now.

You, stay.

Shut the door.

It's come to my attention

there was a playing
of cosmopolitan music

in the Shalyapin bar three nights ago

by your daughter, Sofia Rostova.

I wasn't aware the works of
Beethoven had been banned.

Beethoven?

Yes, "Für Elise" to be precise.

So the person who told me is lying?

No, no, I-I assume they maybe
don't have a musical ear.

I won't have the playing

of degenerate music in my hotel.

I'll be sure to let Sofia know.

See that you do.

Good lord, Richard, those
look a little volatile.

I persuaded Audrius to make it
with every spirit in the bar,

and challenged this lot

to see how many they
could get down them.

Do you think that's wise?

I can barely hear myself think.

Neither can anyone else.

That is the point.

I am going to say some things.

Listen.

Keep smiling.

Since the war, relations
between our two countries

may not have been especially chummy,

but they have been predictable.

Now Stalin is dead,

it is not entirely clear
to us who is in charge.

And by us, you mean?

The United States of America.

Good lord, Richard.

All these years we've been friends...

And you didn't know I was an American?

I didn't know that you were a-a spy...

Don't be so dramatic. I am...

an observant conversationalist.

Nothing more.

Now, it could be Russia's doors

are about to be flung open to the world,

or they could be slammed shut
and bolted from the inside.

Well, we must hope for the former.

Absolutely.

But prepare for the latter.

What exactly is it you want from me?

A meeting of the
highest-ranking Soviet leaders

will be held in this hotel next week.

We understand an important
announcement is to be made.

Oh, no, Richard, please.

We would like you to be there
to tell us what it's about.

I will not spy on my country.

Sofia will never have
the life she deserves

in this country.

We were just talking about
Russia throwing its doors open.

If it happens.

But change is slow.

Too slow for her.

Help me, and I will see to
it that Sofia's trip to Paris

is nothing more than
a stopover to America

and a whole new life.

I'll see you around.

It's all...

all white.

Oh, my orchard.

After the dark autumns and cold winters,

you are young again,

full of happiness,

the angels of heaven haven't left you.

Oh, if I could only take my heavy burden

off my breast and shoulders,
if I could forget my past.

Yes, and they'll sell this
orchard to pay off debts.

Strange as it seems.

Look.

There's my dead mother
going in the orchard.

Dressed in white.

- That's she.
- Where?

Oh.

- Learn them on your own.
- I'm sorry.

It's just impossible
to take you seriously.

Something the matter?

I suppose Richard
Vanderwhile gave you this.

Your daughter, actually.

What the devil is a "convenience"?

Dishwashing machines,
toasters, televisions,

clothes-washing
machines, vacuum cleaners.

I somehow struggle to imagine
you wielding a vacuum cleaner.

And what on earth is an
automatic garage door?

It is a garage door

that opens and closes
itself on your behalf.

What do you think of that?

I think, if I were a garage door,

I would rather long for the old days.

Would you like to live in America?

Everyone wishes they
could live in America.

Well, that's certainly not true of me.

Because you are fatally Russian,

you can't see past the
love of your country.

I'd love to go there.

They may not have much

in the way of theater or culture, but...

they're free to play
whatever music they choose.

Say what they think. Go where they want.

And let's not forget the conveniences.

I'll tell you what's convenient.

Is to sleep until midday

and have someone bring you
your breakfast on a tray.

To cancel a meeting at the last minute.

To stay clear of
marriage in your youth and

to put off having children altogether.

These are some of the
greatest conveniences.

And there was a time
when I had them all.

But, at the end of the day,

it's the inconveniences that
have mattered the most to me.

Only because you've been locked
up in the most convenient place.

You didn't have to endure
what the rest of Russia did.

Yes?

He's here with me now.

All right, all right, all right.

Mishka? Mishka. It's Alexander.

Mishka, look at me. Look at me.

Mishka.

It's me.

Help me get him inside.

We've got to get him warm. Come on.

Get him out of this cold. Come on.

He's still sleeping.

The soles of his boots are all thin.

He must've walked hundreds of miles.

From where?

Which prison camp was he in?

Oh, he didn't say. He's barely speaking.

Are you thinking about your parents?

Trying not to. I should go to rehearsal.

Would you rather stay at home today?

I'd rather keep busy.

Sofia.

Manager Leplevsky spoke to me yesterday

- about the music you were...
- It was Beethoven, Papa.

My dear friend.

How long have I been asleep?

Last night and all of today.

I tried to get you
to sleep on the chair,

but you preferred the floor.

It's what I'm used to.

I have some fruit and...

I lost my manners.

What little I had.

Where have you been?

I arrived by a train
from Yavas last night.

We traveled together.

Wandering.

Lost.

We? Who is that? Your-your comrades?

Comrades?

There are no comrades.

My fellow prisoners.

I'm sorry.

I have nowhere else to go.

Oh, of course.

Of course.

Let me get you some water.

Here.

It's all right.

You're all right.

Yes.

The Novikovs won't even look at us.

He wants my job.

I'd be no different.

We appear strong,

then we are strong.

Mr. and Mrs. Glebnikov,
it's been some time.

If you'd follow me, I've saved
you the best table in the house.

If you would like a drink.

Have you anything from east Georgia?

Bottle of Rkatsiteli maybe.

- I'd have to check our cellar.
- Then do so.

I'll be back.

Don't let them see your fear.

I've had enough practice over the years.

Guests are not normally
permitted down here.

Gladly make an exception,
of course, for you.

The leadership of the country

will be meeting here
at the hotel next week.

I'd like to know who
attends and what's discussed.

I'm not sure how I can help.

There are things I've done
for you in the past, for Sofia.

And I'm eager to show my gratitude.

Then show it.

Being locked up here,

I see very little.

I read the newspapers, of course, but...

it's impossible to truly get
an idea of what's happening

in this country of ours.

And what it will become without Stalin.

My immediate superiors
have already been...

... excised.

If Khrushchev takes control,

everyone associated with the old
order will meet the same fate.

If it's Malenkov, well, he's more likely

to keep things as they are.

And there is a chance for me and Maria.

I'll do what I can.

Thank you.

That'll do nicely.

What was it like?

How long were you there?

My parents were sent to Siberia.

When they opened the gulags, I
did hope they might come back.

No one comes back.

Parts of them do.

I'm sorry.

Oh.

Sofia,

you should get yourself to bed.

So you're fresh for
tomorrow. It's getting late.

Good night, Papa.

Good night, Sofia.

Good night, Uncle Mishka.

I brought you something
from the kitchen, Mishka.

It was the people. We burned it down.

What did you burn down?

Moscow. Russia.

Napoleon took the city,

and our people burned it down.

Uh, are you talking about 1812?

Right in front of his
eyes. Can you imagine?

You are safe here, you know, with me.

The two of us can grow old together.

We can talk late into the night

and tell lies about our younger years.

Sounds a wonderful dream.

I wanted to tell you. Uh...

What did you want to tell me?

It's gone.

I'm going to look after you, Mishka.

You're going to get better.

We'll get you some new clothes.

You can start all over again.

- Tomorrow.
- There is no tomorrow.

Not for me.

Let me introduce you to
Mikhail Fyodorovich Mindich.

The best of men and my oldest friend.

I've heard so many
wonderful things about you.

A pleasure, Mikhail.

Oh! Nikolai Petrov,

as I live and breathe!

"Prince Nikolai Petrov" to you.

Nina.

What I need is for
someone to watch over Sofia

while I get settled.

I found a way to escape.

It won't bring her back, Sasha.

Sofia!

Oh.

Snow filled the air of the piazza.

Only...

it wasn't snow. It was... ash

and embers from the city,
which was burning to the ground.

Mishka had been speaking to
me about the burning of Moscow.

He gave every part of
himself to this country.

And it destroyed him.

And Nina, too.

That...

precious little girl.

That brilliant, bright light,

carelessly snuffed out.

I won't accept that that
could happen to Sofia.

I can't allow it to happen to her.

However heartbreaking it might be,

- we have to...
- We have to let her go.

Richard came to my dressing
room after the play.

Then you understand why we cannot...

associate with one another anymore.

"Associate"?

Is that what we've been
doing all this time?

Oh, Anna, don't make this
any harder than it already is.

- If I get caught...
- Which you will be.

You have very little
faith in my abilities.

It has nothing to do
with your abilities.

When Sofia doesn't come back from Paris,

they'll know the part you played.

They'll know where to find you.

So you should stay as far
away as possible from me.

They'll kill you.

After they torture you first.

The last thing that I want
is for you to be involved.

Oh, you fool.

I am involved.

I've been involved for 30 years.

I love you.

You...

... what?

I'm not going to repeat it.

Whatever happens...

... we face it together.

You don't expect him to wear that?

I understand your concern,

but my superiors insisted.
Or there's no deal.

No, it's all right, Anna.

How do I get the tapes to you?

Sofia must bring them to Paris

and then deliver them to the
embassy, where I'll be waiting.

When are you leaving?

Tonight.

So your country doesn't have
to face the embarrassment

of having one of your own
locked up, should this go wrong.

My dear Alexander,

this isn't something you
should undertake lightly.

Stalin may be gone, but
be under no illusion...

- if you're caught...
- We're well aware

of what the consequences would be.

Let me show you how this all works.

This is the most
popular watch in the USSR

and approved by Stalin himself.

The microphone is activated the
moment the wire is pushed in.

Then it'll start recording.

You'll see the second hand moving.

Pull it out and it stops.

I should just about manage that.

Sofia.

A word in my office.

You'll have noticed the
increased security in the hotel.

We've important guests.

So...

I want to go through the music
that you're going to be playing

in the piazza this evening.

Shut the door.

Prokofiev's Piano Concerto No. 2.

It was written after he turned
his back on the Revolution.

His music will outlive the both of us.

There was another girl who
used to stay in this hotel.

Nina Kulikova.

Does the name mean anything to you?

She's my mother.

Such a pity.

I want you to know that
I did everything I could...

for her.

What do you mean?

I warned her father that
she was in danger of...

being led astray. And to his credit,

he did send her away to a
school to be educated, but...

unfortunately,

her corrupt nature

- and moral bankruptcy...
- Stop it.

... meant it was inevitable
that she would rebel.

You don't know the
first thing about her.

I think I know more than you.

I know your parents
were both found guilty

of anti-Soviet corruption
and they were sent

to a camp that they
never came back from.

Why would you tell me that?

Sorry.

Didn't mean to upset you.

What will you do?

Sofia's playing in the
piazza this evening.

I didn't want to arouse
suspicion by changing our plans.

Well, I won't finish till
after midnight. If I...

There's not going to be an "if."

Don't let there be an "if."

They've questioned you.

Tell them you've always been

concerned about my
friendship with Richard.

Don't resist.

Don't get caught.

Good evening, Andrey.

And good evening to you, sir.

I'm one of your waiters
for this evening.

Raise your hands.

Thank you.

Sofia?

- I'm fine.
- You're clearly not.

Tell me what it is.

What do you think?
This place, all of it.

I can't even breathe.

They killed my parents.

I won't do it anymore.

Sofia, not tonight, trust
me. Trust your father.

Whatever it is you're
thinking of doing...

Excuse me.

The music's supposed
to have started by now.

Sofia, apologies for interrupting

that performance, but given the audience

that we have this evening,
perhaps something more patriotic

might be in order?

The State Anthem... perhaps?

Comrades, who would
like to hear our Anthem?

Yes.

Unless you have some
objection on political grounds?

Be still, my beating heart.

It's Khrushchev.

I understand now how you must have felt

after the Revolution.

Will you run?

There's nowhere for
someone like me to go.

He who lives by the
sword, dies by the sword.

Who was that? Shakespeare?

Uh, Gospel of Matthew.

You think I deserve
everything that comes my way?

I hope you are afforded the fair justice

that you denied so many others.

All those people.

They were somebody's child,

somebody's mother, father.

Someone's friend.

What was it all for?

That's an easy question to ask now.

Harder at the time.

No matter. It's done.

W-When did he leave?

About an hour ago.

He-he left this.

This is 1913, the year we graduated.

Where is our purpose now?

Mishka wrote this poem in
the south parlor at Idlehour.

It was in the time when
it was still dangerous

to write poems of political impatience.

Given his background, we decided

that it should be published in my name.

The irony is, years later,
when I was due to be executed,

they spared me because they
thought I'd written this poem.

Mm, Mishka,

my dear, dear friend.

When he left, I asked
him where he was going,

but he just said, "Does it matter?"

It's time to get out of this madhouse.

- Synced and corrected by chamallow -
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