Original subtitles

What are they like, these girls?

They're very good. A bit wild. Spend their money quickly. Work hard.

- Are they literate? - Some of them.

In and out of reformatories from the day they were picked up.

Jobs like this. It's degrading.

They shouldn't use human beings to move earth.

No.

And it's not efficient.

If they were to give me two more excavators...

...I'd be a year ahead of the plan by now.

You're an impatient generation.

Weren't you?

Yes, we were. Very.

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

Yes, I know that, Comrade General.

Yes, but do you know what it cost?

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

Did you know that?

What is your interest in this girl, Comrade General?

She may be my brother's child.

- Yuri Andreyevich? - Yes.

My half-brother, I should say.

If she is...

...she's also Lara's child.

The Lara?

The Lara, yes.

This is a new edition of the "Lara Poems."

Yes, I know. We admire your brother very much.

Yes, everybody seems to, now.

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

No.

Come in.

I sent for you, Comrade.

You're not in any trouble.

I'm General Yevgraf Andreyevich Zhivago.

I'm looking for someone.

Do you understand?

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

Please sit down.

Your name is--

Tonya Komarova, Comrade General.

They found you in Mongolia, didn't they?

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

I was lost, Comrade General.

How did you come to be lost?

I've forgotten.

Was Komarovsky your father's name?

I suppose so, Comrade General.

You suppose so?

It's a common name.

Do you remember your father?

No.

Do you remember your mother?

Yes, I remember my mother.

What was her name?

"Mammy."

What was she like? I mean, what did she look like?

Big.

Big?

I was little. She looked big.

- Can you read? - Yes.

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

Not me. My half-brother.

The person I'm looking for...

...would be this man's daughter.

This would be her mother.

"Lara."

Did anybody ever call your mother Lara?

I don't know. I don't think so.

She's nice.

I'm not your niece, Comrade General.

Well, I'm nobody's idea of an uncle.

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

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

Comrade General, my father wasn't a poet.

What was your father?

Not a poet.

Did you like your father?

I've forgotten.

But you liked your mother?

Yes, of course.

Does the name "Strelnikov" mean anything to you? "Strelnikov"?

"Varykino"?

That's a place, not a person.

"Gromeko"?

- Gromeko? - Yes.

You see...

...he lost his mother...

...at about the same age you were...

...when your mother lost you.

And, in the same part of the world.

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

...for the spirit has vanished from its tabernacle...

...its clay groweth black.

The vessel is shattered, voiceless, emotionless, dead.

Committing which unto the grave, let us beseech the Lord...

...that He will give her eternal rest.

Yuri?

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

Thank you, Father.

Will you lie down, then, Yuri?

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

...so now we are going to look after you.

Thank you.

That's mother's.

It's yours now.

Yes, Yuri. Mammy left it to you.

In her will.

Do you know what a will is, old chap?

Money.

No, Yuri, just this. Your daddy has all the money.

Can you play it?

I thought all the people in this part of the world could play the balalaika.

You don't live here, do you?

No, we live in Moscow.

That's a long way from here, but you will like Moscow.

- Won't he? - In a bit.

It takes time to get used to things, doesn't it?

Mother could play it.

Well, your mother was an artist, Yuri.

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

Your mother had a gift.

Perhaps Yuri's got a gift.

Would you like lessons?

I can't play it.

Say good night to Yuri, Tonya.

He's your brother, now.

Good night, Yuri.

Good night, old chap.

Good night.

The Gromekos didn�t know what to make of him.

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

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

What he needed was a job.

Pretty?

Very.

Yeah. It's their right to be pretty.

What will you do next year, Zhivago?

I thought of doing general practice.

Think about doing pure research.

It's exciting, important, tender, beautiful.

General practice.

Life. He wants to see life. Well...

You'll find that pretty creatures do ugly things to people.

What's your name?

Antipov.

Address?

15 Patrofka.

I'll have these.

We have permission from the chief of police.

- Well, you claim them at the station. - When?

Now if you like.

Very well.

He's my brother.

Well, take him home, Miss. Before he gets into trouble.

Pasha, please!

It's got to be done.

Pasha, why has it got to be done?

For them. For the Revolution.

- Pasha, they don't want a revolution. - Yes, they do.

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

Give me some of those, Comrade.

Pasha, are you a Bolshevik?

No. The Bolsheviks don't like me. And I don't like them.

They don't know right from wrong.

Pasha Antipov, you're an awful prig.

Why did you tell him I was your brother?

Well, what else could I have told him?

You could have told him I was your fiance.

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

Monsieur Komarovsky has come to see my mother on business.

People gossip around here.

It's the system, Lara.

People will be different after the Revolution.

Will you come?

No, Pasha.

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

Hello, Auntie.

There's a letter for you.

From Paris.

Lovely writing.

She's coming home next month.

Tonya? Oh, that's good!

He does seem to be very well informed.

And such a handsome figure of--

Good evening, Mama. Madame.

Larissa.

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

Good evening, Larissa.

Good evening, Monsieur.

He advises some very important people.

Yes, I know.

I believe he has government connections.

I don't know, I'm sure.

Isn't he very expensive?

Monsieur Komarovsky advises me out of kindness, Baroness.

He was a friend of my late husband.

Oh, I see.

Allow me.

Tuesday, if I can, my dear. Goodbye.

Where did you get this?

A friend gave it to me, Monsieur Komarovsky.

You're not to go to this peaceful demonstration.

No, Monsieur.

It may not be as peaceful as they think.

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

Yes, Monsieur.

How old are you now?

Seventeen, Monsieur.

A hundred and three.

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

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

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

It is so stupid of me! It's her first long gown.

I think you'd better call it right off.

Yes. I'll stay with you.

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

It's so disappointing for her, Victor Yppolitovich.

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

Very well. Get your coat.

We're late, if we're going.

I want to avoid Kropotkin Street.

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

"Justice, equality and bread."

Don't you think they're splendid?

Yes, I do.

"Brotherhood and freedom."

Brotherhood and fiddlesticks! You're frozen through.

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

We'd given you up, Monsieur.

My niece. Coat, Lara.

Charmante.

Come, my dear.

How's the Foie de Veau, Gascoigne?

As always, Monsieur.

- All right. Not too much-- - Not too much mustard, Monsieur.

- Jambon Farcl en Crote. - Oul, Mademolselle.

Wine, Monsieur?

A little light wine, yes.

Oul, Monsleur. Mademolselle.

This place must be dreadfully expensive, Monsieur Komarovsky.

It is.

Why not "Victor Yppolitovich"?

I can't.

Mother made this dress.

Very nice.

She's clever, isn't she?

Your mother? Yes. Fine little woman.

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

Prepare!

Mount!

Tote sabers!

What, what?

What?

- Good night, dear. - Good night...

...Victor Yppolitovich.

Go inside your houses, please.

All these people will be taken care of.

Go inside, please.

All these people will be taken care of.

Go inside, please.

Get inside.

Yuri, please. No trouble.

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

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

Daddy!

There, now, that's enough.

Your mother, your mother.

Mammy!

Mammy, how are you?

Me? Fit as a fiddle.

Turn 'round.

Well, they've taught her something.

- Look at that! - Isn't Yuri looking well, Tonya?

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

Yes. Run along, you two.

I brought you this. It has a piece in it about young Russian poets.

Oh, good! Thank you. Does it mention me?

It begins with you. You're the best.

Very intelligent nation, the French.

They have their heads together.

Yes. They're looking at the paper.

They're head over heels--

Annushka, stop it!

Good marriages are made in Heaven, or some such place.

Victor Yppolitovich?

I want to talk to you.

No, Pasha.

It's important.

All right.

How did you do it?

I didn't.

A Dragoon did.

Oh, Pasha, darling!

Come, come.

- Where's your mother? - Asleep.

Pasha, I can't deal with this.

Have you got any iodine?

- Yes, but-- - Get it.

Will it hurt?

Pasha, darling!

Pasha, you must go to a hospital!

I daren't for a day or two.

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

Hide this.

Oh, throw it away!

No.

There'll be no more peaceful demonstrations.

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

Starving women asking for bread.

On Tamskaya Avenue, the pigs were eating and drinking and dancing!

Hide it for me.

Thanks, Comrade.

Pasha, darling, I'm not your comrade.

Lara?

- Yes? - Who is there?

It's only Pasha.

You came in very late last night, dear.

The time went so quickly.

Good.

Are you going to church?

Yes.

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

Yes, Father.

He said, "Go and sin no more."

And, did she?

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

The flesh is not weak.

It is strong. Only the sacrament of marriage will contain it.

Remember that.

Monsieur...

It's Number Six, this evening, sir. The most important person here.

Sorry, I'm late.

I've been waiting nearly an hour, Victor.

Have you ordered?

No.

Well, you should have done.

You chose it, Victor.

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

Yes.

What did you tell your mama tonight?

Victor, don't!

- May I smoke? - Yes, of course.

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

Come along, my dear.

Sant!

Sant!

Drink, drink.

Up, up, up.

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

She didn't ask.

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

You'd both take an oath she doesn't. But she does.

And you both know she does.

Victor, don't!

What?

Torment me.

Torment? Oh, what a little hypocrite it is.

I'm going, now, Victor.

Whatever you like, dear.

You see, you'll always come back.

Stay, darling.

Stay.

Wake up! Here, take this.

You show it to someone if you lose your way.

Professor Boris Kurt. And, you find him. Now, go on.

Professor Boris Kurt.

But, Boris, this is genius.

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

And how's the general practitioner?

A bit scared of his finals.

Well, I don't think he need be.

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

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

No?

I thought you nomads were hot-blooded.

A slow lot, these general practitioners.

How do you fancy a professor of pathology?

Does he write poetry?

Alas, no.

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

That's a marvelous girl, Zhivago.

Yes, I'd noticed.

It's for you.

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

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

Yes, I know it is. My assistant.

- How do you do? - Where is she?

This way.

When did she do it?

About eight o'clock this evening.

Do you know what it was?

Why didn't you get a local doctor?

- I couldn't. - No, I suppose you couldn't.

Come on in.

Turn her over.

All right.

Water.

Now, Yuri. Come on, dear. Come on.

Now, Yuri.

Come on, dear.

Come on, Yuri.

Sorry.

Well, my dear, that's it.

That's it. Good.

Good.

Good.

Is she going to live?

Water.

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

Funny thing.

There's a man, speaks on public platforms.

In with the government. In with the Liberals. In with everybody.

And he risks it all.

For that!

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

That's how GPs see them.

That's how they are.

You know, from here, she looks beautiful.

Zhivago, I think you're a hard case.

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

Oh, for heaven's sake, Boris--

She might have thought about "Lara" before she did it.

Does the girl know?

I'm afraid she does.

- Is she here? - Yes.

Tell her that her mother's going to live.

Wait a minute, Victor. Yurian.

Yes, of course.

What are we going to say about this?

- Must we say anything? - I'm afraid so.

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

You know that needn't be difficult, Boris.

- What is the name of your assistant? - Zhivago.

Andreyevich?

Yes, why? Do you know him?

No, I knew his father slightly.

Fine.

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

What's his name?

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

He executed my father's will.

Uncle Alex turned it down.

By Komarovsky's account there wasn't much in it.

And what there was belonged to Komarovsky.

Oh, he's a very good businessman.

But I doubt that he's crooked.

Very good company. Knows life.

He's had a bad scare tonight.

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

No, no. It reminds me of my youth.

- I went to the hospital again. - And?

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

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

Is this him?

Yes.

- He knows nothing about-- - No.

Pasha, this is Monsieur Komarovsky.

Please.

- Will you eat? - No, thank you.

I hope you don't think this is impertinent, Pavel Pavlovich.

Not at all.

I am...I have been advising Larissa's mother for many years.

I'm interested in what happens to her.

There's something I have to tell you. And that is this:

I am committed to the Revolution.

Nothing...

...not even Lara, has more importance for me.

You misunderstand.

Your political views do not concern me.

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

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

How do you propose to live?

I've been offered a teaching post.

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

I know it. Not much of a place.

It's beautiful country, Monsieur Komarovsky.

It'll be a quiet life, won't it?

That's what we want.

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

Adequate. If not more.

Pavel Pavlovich, my chief impression is, and I mean no offense...

...is that you're very young.

Monsieur Komarovsky, I hope I don't offend you.

Do people improve with age?

They grow a little more tolerant.

Because they have more to tolerate in themselves.

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

A little experience.

I'm 26. My mother died, needlessly, when I was eight.

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

I've worked my way through higher school and university.

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

All this is an experience of a kind, certainly.

I've no amorous experience, if that's what you mean.

None whatever. Lara's 17. That speaks for itself.

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

We're going to be married next year.

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

Not at all. Admirable.

A young crusader.

Oh, he's not--

He's a very fine young man. That's obvious.

You're very generous, Monsieur Komarovsky.

Larissa, I want to talk to you.

Monsieur Komarovsky, will you--

I beg you.

Drop this affectation of addressing me as "Monsieur Komarovsky"!

Under the circumstances, I find it rather ridiculous.

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

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

He is high-minded. He is pure.

He is the kind of man that the world pretends to look up to and despises.

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

- Do you understand? - No.

I think you do.

There's another kind.

Not high-minded. Not pure, but alive.

That your tastes at this time should incLine toward the juvenile is understandable.

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

Because, there are two kinds of women.

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

You, my dear, are a slut.

I am not!

We'll see.

And, don't delude yourself that this was rape.

That would flatter us both.

The master's not at home, Miss Lara.

Not at home?

No. He went to the Sventytskis' Christmas party.

Are you going there, Miss?

Please don't say I told you.

No, thank you, Piotr.

Merry Christmas, Miss Lara.

Oh, thank you, and Merry Christmas to you.

Merry Christmas, Yuri Andreyevich.

What's the matter?

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

Haven't you got the letter? I left a letter--

I've not been home. I'm going home, now.

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

What's in this letter?

What's in this letter?

Are you breaking--

- It's all in the letter. - What is?

Everything.

Don't!

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

I know. I'm dancing with her.

You're keen tonight, Victor.

I like to win.

Silence!

Silence, everybody! Silence, please!

I have a very delightful announcement to make.

Oh, Madame Sventytski!

Yes. Why not?

I have to announce that Dr. Yuri Zhivago--

Doctor Zhivago, he came third in all Moscow.

Now, listen, please!

Dr. Zhivago is betrothed in marriage to--

My dear Victor!

My dear man!

Get her out.

What?

Get her out. Get her out!

Yes. Yes. I'll get the police.

No!

I don't want you to get the police.

I do not want the police. I just want you to get her out!

Let her go!

Please!

Quiet, please. Please. Give way.

Please, would you mind?

Would you mind? Thank you, thank you.

Our destinies seem to be interwoven, don't they?

Yes.

I was a close friend of your father.

I knew you were his business partner.

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

Also, I am in contact with your brother.

Yevgraf?.

I should say I'm in contact with those who are in contact with him.

Oh, I disagree with Bolshevism.

Thank you.

You seem to know your trade.

But, I can still admire Bolsheviks, as men.

Shall I tell you why?

Yes.

They may win.

I'd like to meet him, Yevgraf.

He sent me a marvelous letter.

He likes my poetry.

That would have pleased your father.

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

I hardly knew him.

You perhaps may not credit this...

...but he was devoted to your mother.

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

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

That's what I mean, yes.

You may continue to rely on my professional etcetera.

You are fastidious, aren't you?

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

Interested?

I give her to you.

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

I give her to you, Yuri Andreyevich.

A wedding present.

Where have you seen that girl before?

What makes you think I've seen her before?

Haven't you?

- Yes. - Where?

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

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

In bourgeois terms It was a war between the Allles and Germany.

In Bolshevlk terms It was a war between the Allled and the German upper classes.

And, which of them won was a matter ofIndlfference.

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

They were shoutlng for victory all over Europe...

...praylng for victory, to the same God.

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

From defeat would spring the Revolution.

And, the Revolution would be victory for us.

The Party looked to the conscript peasants...

...most of them wearing their first good pair of boots.

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

When the time came, I was able to take 3 battallions with me out of the Front Line.

The best day's work I ever did.

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

There were too many volunteers like me.

Mostly, It was mere hysteria.

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

...and wanted a man's part.

Good men, wasted.

Unhappy men, too.

Unhappy In their jobs.

Unhappy with their wives.

Doubting themselves.

Happy men don't volunteer.

They wait their turn and thank God If their age, or work, delays It.

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

...these were the lucky ones.

Even Comrade Lenin...

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

...and our cursed capacity for suffering.

By the second winter of the war...

...the boots had worn out...

...but the Line still held.

Their great coats fell to pieces on their backs.

Their rations were Irregular.

Half of them went action without arms...

...led by men they didn�t trust.

Come on, you bastards!

And, those they did trust--

Come on, Comrades. Come on!

Come on!

Come on!

Come on!

Comrades! Earthshakers!

Show them!

Charge!

At last they did what all the armles dreamed of dolng:

They began to go home.

That was the beginning of the Revolution.

Deserters.

Replacements.

Tote arms!

Come back.

Stick together!

Stick together and we'll be all right.

And be ready for them.

Turn around, lads!

- Don't go any farther. - Come on, lads. Turn around.

Pigs to the slaughter! Look at you!

Turn around, lads.

Listen, lads.

Ten miles up that road are the Germans!

- Rubbish. - Not rubbish.

They're coming. And they're coming fast.

You've let them in.

They're coming for your wives...

...your houses, your country.

Your country, Officer!

Yes, my country! And proud--

Get back in your ranks!

Get back in your ranks!

Get back!

Get back in the ranks!

Are you a nurse?

Yes.

- Are you all right? - Yes.

Then help me.

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

I see. Right.

Why did you volunteer?

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

- Have you ever seen an operation? - Yes.

We'll manage.

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

- Your Honour-- - Keep still.

Did you find your husband?

No.

Your Honour...

Yes, we'd better be off.

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

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

Were you there?

No wonder you look at me.

Did you know Victor Komarovsky?

Yes, I did. That young man, who took you away--

My husband.

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

As a matter of fact, I thought you both did.

Good man to shoot at.

I'd give anything never to have met him.

The tsar's in prison.

Lenin's in Moscow.

Civil war has started.

Good!

Civil war, good?

Not good, Comrade Nurse, inevitable.

But Lenin in Moscow!

This Lenin, will he be the new tsar then?

Listen, Daddy. No more tsars, no more masters.

Only workers in a worker's state. How about that?

Are you a doctor?

- Yes. - Follow me, please.

I can't deal with this.

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

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

"...I feel sure you'd forgive me, dear, for not writing more regularly."

When was that written?

July 20th.

Eight weeks!

"But now the war seems really to have stopped.

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

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

Oh, I do hope so!

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

"She seems to have the strange gift of healing, which doctors don't believe in.

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

"How is Uncle Alex?

- "Can he still get his English tobacco?" - Would that he could!

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

He didn't get my letter.

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

Strangely upsetting. He doesn't know she's dead.

Can't see what difference it makes.

They're at it again!

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

...which gang of hooligans constitutes the government of this country!

Cheer up, Sergei.

Don't you want to go home?

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

Red Guards and White Guards, this old man's had enough.

Your Honour is a kind gentleman.

And, the nurse is a kind lady.

Finished?

Just about.

In a couple of weeks you'll be with your little girl.

If I can get on a train.

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

Yes, of course.

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

Sad.

Really sad.

- Well, we've been here some time. - Yes.

This must have been a lovely house, once.

Don't you think?

What are you going to do?

In Gradov?

Yes.

I'll be all right.

I wish I could think so.

You could run a laundry.

What will you do?

I suppose I'll go back to the hospital.

It's funny to think of you there.

I used to pass it on my way to school.

Do you ever come to Moscow?

From Gradov?

If only there were someone to look after you.

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

Zhivago, don't.

My dear, don't, please!

Now, look what you've made me do.

We've been together six months, on the road and here...

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

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

You understand that, Yuri?

You understand everything.

Come on, Comrades! I'm in a hurry.

Going home, Kuril?

Home, Your Excellency?

Petrograd. I'm joining the Red Guard.

What about your wife?

Sometimes, Comrade Nurse, women have to wait.

Right!

Goodbye, Honoured Doctor.

Want some advice?

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

Adapt yourself!

Goodbye, Durinev.

Goodbye, Your Honour.

Goodbye, Andr.

Goodbye, Simyon.

I'll never forget Your Honour.

Never!

Goodbye, Zhivago.

Goodbye. Thank you.

Pilenko.

Goodbye, brothers!

The doctor is a gentleman.

Right. Written all over him.

He's a good man.

God rot good men.

Yuri!

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

How do you do?

Welcome.

Comrade Kaprugina--

Welcome.

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

Comrade Kaprugina is the chairman of the Residents' Committee.

- Yes, of course. - Your discharge papers?

Oh, yes.

I signed them myself, I'm afraid.

Holy Cross?

What?

- Holy Cross Hospital. It's on-- - The Second Reformed Hospital.

Good. It needed reforming.

Medicals report to their place of work at once.

Yes. I believe there's typhus?

You've been listening to rumormongers, Comrade.

There is no typhus in our city.

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

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

I've always worked.

Whatever is the matter?

You are.

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

Yes. This is a better arrangement, Comrades.

More just.

Well, it is more just, Tonya. Why did it sound so funny?

Is it good to be home?

Sasha?

Who else?

It's your daddy, Sasha.

Sasha!

Sasha!

Naughty boy!

No, don't say that.

May I come in?

Watch carefully.

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

Good meal?

- Very. - Say something.

That was very good, Tonya.

That was nothing.

She's been saving that salami for three months.

Have you, darling?

I got it for a clock.

She's a marvel. Coffee, you observe.

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

Did you write any poetry?

Quite a lot.

Is it good?

Yes, I think so.

Can I see it?

Well, of course.

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

Yes, I suppose they were.

That's the girl who shot friend Komarovsky, isn't it?

Yes, Daddy. You know it is.

She's gone home to her little girl.

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

What a pity!

Farewell, the pleasures of the flesh.

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

You have no right whatever to call me from work.

As a Soviet deputy, I--

That gives you the power, not the right.

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

You should have called the area doctor.

I want this done quietly.

Why, what is it, typhus?

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

It isn't typhus.

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

That seems to give you satisfaction.

It would give me satisfaction to hear you admit it.

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

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

Hello.

The stove's out!

The stove's out!

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

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

We haven't enough fuel.

I told myself it was beneath my dignity to arrest a man for pilfering firewood.

But nothing ordered by the Party Is beneath the dignity of any man...

...and the Party was right.

One man desperate for a bit of fuel is pathetic.

Five million people desperate for fuel will destroy a city.

That was the first time I ever saw my brother.

But, I knew him, and I knew that I would disobey the Party.

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

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

Indeed, as a policeman, I would say "Get hold of a man's brother...

"...and you're half way home. "

Nor was it admiration for a better man than me.

I did admire him, but I didn�t think he was a better man.

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

Now you'll have to live like the rest of us, Doctor.

Bring that! Bring that back!

Oh, listen to His Excellency!

I want no anarchy!

I want this carried out correctly.

What are you doing?

Re-allocation of living space, Comrade Doctor.

Fifty square meters for a family of less than five persons.

Dammit, whose house is this, anyway?

Father, be quiet!

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

They're being stored.

They're being stolen.

Just a minute!

And where did you get this?

I pulled it out of a fence.

I told them who I was.

The old man was hostile, the girl cautious.

My brother...

...seemed very pleased.

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

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

I asked him hadn't he one of his own.

And so he talked about the Revolution.

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

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

Cutting out the tumours of injustice, that's a deep operation.

Someone must keep life alive while you do it.

By living.

Isn't that right?

I thought then it was wrong.

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

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

Approval such as his could vanish overnight.

I told him so.

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

He was walking about with a noose round his neck and didn�t know.

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

Not liked?

Not liked by whom?

Why not liked?

So I told him that.

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

I lied.

But he believed me.

And It struck me through to see that my opinion mattered.

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

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

I urged them to leave and live obscurely somewhere In the country...

...where they could keep themselves alive.

We have, used to have, an estate at Varykino, near Yuriatin.

The people know us there.

He didn�t resist.

I offered to obtain permits, passes, warrants...

...told them what to take and what to leave.

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

And so we parted.

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

But perhaps I didn�t.

Fifty persons!

Fifty persons only!

Fifty persons!

Tonya, here!

Fifty persons only!

Get back!

Fifty persons only!

Fifty persons!

Fifty persons!

Only 50 persons!

Charming accommodation.

Charming accommodation.

That's very good.

I'm an intellectual.

Shut up, you "intellectual."

Shut up, you lickspittle.

Forced labour.

Attention, Comrades.

Your train will leave tomorrow morning.

Health regulations for the journey:

Night soil will be emptied every morning without fail.

Straw to be replaced at ten day intervals and the old straw burned.

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

This is disinfectant. Use it.

In this wagon is a detachment of Voluntary Labour.

Liar.

You are required by Military Committee to show them all assistance.

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

So you'll be in good hands.

They're idiots.

Attention, Comrades.

In approximately 11 days' time you'll pass through the Urals province...

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

...and other criminal reactionary elements, have recently been active.

The Military Committee assures you...

...that the criminals have been completely routed in that area...

...by Red Guard units under the command of People's Commander Strelnikov.

There's a man.

Clap him.

The Line is definitely clear.

Long live the Revolution!

Long live anarchy!

Lickspittle! Bureaucrat!

Is that necessary?

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

I'm a free man, lickspittle.

There's nothing you can do about it.

I'm the only free man on this train.

The rest of you are cattle.

Help me, brothers, for the love of God.

Come on!

Yuri, the child is dead.

It wasn't my child, dear...

...and his little soul's in Heaven now, that's certain.

Who did it, Comrade, the Whites?

The Whites?

No, Strelnikov.

Well, then, you must have done something.

It wasn't us, Comrade.

The commander said we'd sold horses to the Whites.

It wasn't us, it was those pigs in Kuniko.

We told him, but he didn't believe us.

I expect you were lying.

- As God's my witness. - But he isn't.

Commander Strelnikov is a great man.

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

Does he?

I don't know. They say so.

It's true.

No one knows where he comes from.

And they never know where he is.

- He's back up the Line. - Yes?

Someone's for it.

Oh, really, not again!

What this time?

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

I know what I'm going to do.

Look!

The Urals.

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

Through the mountains and into the forest.

Then it'll be much warmer still.

Will there be wolves in the forest?

Strelnikov!

That's Strelnikov.

Daddy!

What's that noise?

It's only a waterfall.

No, the other noise.

Guns, Sasha.

Are they fighting?

They must be. It's a long way away.

Let's go to sleep.

Get him!

Look!

Is that all?

That's all.

Bring him.

Who sent you here, Zhivago?

No one sent me here, Commander.

I'm going to Yuriatin with my wife and child.

They're on the train from Moscow.

Yes, we've checked that.

Then?

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

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

No.

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

No. We're going on to Varykino.

Not through Yuriatin. It's under shellfire.

Commander, I'm not a White agent.

No, I don't think you are.

All right, Kolya. Thank you, Comrades. Sit down, Doctor.

Take it.

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

Are you the poet?

Yes.

I used to admire your poetry.

Thank you.

I shouldn't admire it now.

I should find it absurdly personal. Don't you agree?

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

You don't agree. You're wrong.

The personal life is dead in Russia.

History has killed it.

I can see how you might hate me.

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

You have a brother?

Yevgraf?.

Yevgraf. Yes. The policeman.

I didn't know that.

Perhaps not. A "secret" policeman. Did he send you here?

Yevgraf?.

No, Yevgraf's a Bolshevik.

I don't know anything about these things.

Oh, you know a great deal.

When you came in you recognized me.

How?

Has someone shown you photographs?

No.

I am certain that you recognized me.

I've seen you before, Commander.

When?

Six years ago.

Go on.

Christmas Eve. You--

You were there?

Or, has someone told you this?

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

Why do you call her my wife?

I met her again.

We served together on the Ukranian Front.

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

I haven't seen her since the war.

She's in Yuriatin.

Yuriatin!

The private life is dead, for a man with any manhood.

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

They were selling horses to the Whites.

No.

It seems you burned the wrong village.

They always say that. And what does it matter?

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

Your point, their village.

Kolya!

And what will you do with your wife and child in Varykino?

Just live.

Take him away. He's innocent.

You're lucky.

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

Varykino Halt.

Hello?

Hello?

How lovely!

Oh, how lovely!

Hello?

Hello?

Alexander Maximiovich?

Yes.

It's me, Petya.

Your Honour!

Now, now, now, that's all done with, you know.

How do we get to the house, Petya?

As you always did, Your Honour.

Look, Sasha!

What is it, Petya? Forest fire?

Forest fire, Your Honour?

That's Yuriatin.

Poor souls. First the Reds, then the Whites.

Now, the Reds again.

That's Strelnikov. His heart must be dead.

We'll soon be there, now, Sasha.

Another five miles.

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

Oh, well enough, Your Honour. It's all locked up, you know.

Varykino!

All locked up, you see.

A body, styling itself.

The Yuriatin Committee of Revolutionary Justice...

...has expropriated my house in the name of the people.

Very well.

I'm one of the people, too!

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

- Get out of my way! - Father, don't!

Petya brought us here.

That makes him a counterrevolutionary, too.

They shoot counterrevolutionaries.

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

- Partisans. - Here?

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

All we need is a roof, Petya.

And a bit of garden. Is there nowhere?

They didn't lock the cottage.

Oh, yes, we can manage here.

Oh, the stove works.

I'll find you a few sticks of furniture.

And some seed potatoes?

I'm afraid the garden is dreadfully run back.

Yes. Thank you.

Well done, my boy.

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

I've always said so.

Well, you're wrong.

He works like a peasant, but he isn't a peasant.

I don't mind, Tonya. Really.

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

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

Awfully glad about the expected new arrival, Yuri.

Anna was born here, you know.

Oh, no, I didn't know that.

Well, I'm terribly glad.

Here's winged Mercury.

Looks a bit down in the mouth.

Enter.

What news from Yuriatin?

There's no lard, no sugar. Oil, next week, perhaps.

There's flour, salt, coffee and nails.

Bad news?

Oh, Lord, not another purge!

No.

Strelnikov's gone.

That's not bad news.

No. He's in Manchuria, they say.

That's the news.

They've shot the tsar.

And all his family.

Oh, that's a savage deed.

What's it for?

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

Yuri, why don't you go to Yuriatin?

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

Why? What's in Yuriatin?

It isn't Petersburg.

A very decent little library...

...if it's still there.

I wish you would.

No, I don't think so.

Anyway, the roads are blocked.

Zhivago?

Yes.

How are you?

What are you doing here?

We're at Varykino.

Varykino?

Why Varykino?

Why not? We had to go somewhere.

But, here!

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

Strelnikov. I met him.

Met him?

Yes.

How long have you been living here?

About a year.

Alone?

With Katya.

Where's Katya now?

At school.

Is Tonya with you?

All of us.

Sasha?

Of course.

What are we going to do?

I don't know.

Yuri?

It's awfully early, isn't it?

Half past six.

What are you doing?

Nothing. Couldn't sleep.

Is anything the matter?

No.

Shall I get some tea?

Yes, do.

Hello. You are silly. We called and called.

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

- Hello, Lara. - Hello.

How's Olya Petrovna?

She gets worse and worse.

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

C.I.?

Civic Instruction.

Look.

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

It's the tsar.

The tsar was an enemy of the people.

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

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

Yes, he should.

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

Lunch.

Good.

Come on, you.

Smell.

This one's a prize-fighter.

Yuri!

Wait a minute.

There.

I'm going in to Yuriatin, darling--

What? Now?

Yes, I want to get some morphine, disinfectant...

I shan't need morphine.

You never know.

Well, I shan't need it today.

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

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

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

I'm not coming back.

I understand.

But, never, Lara.

Do you understand?

Do you believe me?

Comrade Doctor, I need a medical officer.

Sorry. I have a wife and child in Varykino.

And a mistress in Yuriatin.

Comrade Medical Officer, we are Red Partisans...

...and we shoot deserters. Up!

Up!

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

- And where is the Front? - Good question.

The Front is wherever there are enemies of the Revolution.

Wherever there is one gang of White Guards...

...one battalion of foreign interventionists, that is the Front.

Wherever there is one resentful bourgeois, one unreliable schoolmaster...

...one dubious poet hugging his private life.

That, too, is the Front.

How long are you going to keep me?

For as long as we need you.

Now!

Charge!

Well, that was easy. Come on, Doctor, let's see what we've done.

"St. Michael's Military School."

You old bastard!

It doesn't matter.

Did you ever love a woman, Razin?

I once had a wife and four children.

He has been a good comrade.

He's been a good medical officer.

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

None of this matters.

What does matter, Comrade Commissar?

Tell me, I've forgotten.

This is contemptible. The doctor stays.

I command this unit!

We command jointly. The "Party Bulletin" expressly states--

I could have you taken out and shot.

And could you have the Party taken out and shot?

Try to understand.

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

In the hour of victory the military will have served its purpose.

All men will then be judged politically...

...regardless of their military record.

Meanwhile, there are still White units in this area.

The doctor stays.

That concludes the meeting.

Comrade, where are you going?

Are you running away, Comrade?

Soldiers.

Red soldiers or White soldiers?

Soldiers.

Tonya!

Tonya!

Sasha!

Tonya!

Tonya!

Tonya!

Tonya!

Tonya!

This is Yuriatin?

Yes. Yuriatin.

What's happened at Varykino?

The Moscow folks?

Yes.

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

Lord what happiness! They say you are alive.

Someone saw you near the Town.

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

But just in case, I've left a little food, boiled potatoes mostly.

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

Oh, I'm mad with joy.

Tonya!

Tonya!

Yuri.

Tonya!

Yuri. Yuri, darling.

It's all right, Yuri. They're safe.

They're in Moscow.

- In Moscow? - Yes.

- Tonya? - All of them.

They're safe.

Safe.

Firing squad--

Better.

What?

I've got a letter for you.

I've had it three months.

And it was three months getting here.

It's from Moscow.

I think it's from Tonya.

It's addressed to you. Care of me.

She came into Yuriatin to find you when you vanished.

Someone sent her here.

You met?

She's very fine.

My dearest dear...

...I am sending this to Larissa Antipova...

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

...I think that is where you will go.

We have a little daughter, Yuri, did you know?

Her name is Anna.

Father sends greetings.

Sasha has grown quite a lot.

He is quite big now.

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

This is what I have to tell you.

We are being deported from Russia.

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

An organization in Paris which I mustn't name...

...will know where we are...

...but nothing is certain and there is very little time.

I am writing this in haste.

They are coming for us now.

God bless you.

I must honestly admit that Antipova is a good person.

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

Yuri!

May I come in?

Yuri Andreyevich, you've changed, I think.

Oh, yes, decidedly.

Larissa...

...remarkably the same.

I came from Moscow.

I'm on my way to Vladivostock.

I'm here to offer you my help.

We don't want it.

Speak for yourself.

We don't want it.

Yuri Andreyevich, you spent two years with the Partisans, Fifth Division.

You have no discharge so you are a deserter.

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

Now all these are technicalities.

But your style of life...

...everything you say and think...

...your published writings are all flagrantly subversive.

Your days are numbered.

Unless I help you.

Do you want my help?

No.

Wait, Yuri.

Larissa, three glasses.

No!

Yuri, you must see how serious this is.

Please don't underestimate me.

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

How do you know all this about Yuri?

How can you help?

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

No.

Sant, Larissa.

Our eastern seaboard is an undeveloped area.

The Commissariat of Foreign Affairs wants to establish an independent state there.

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

I've good contacts in the Far East.

I've been appointed the minister of justice.

The Bolsheviks trust you?

They trust no one. They've found me useful.

Here's how I can help you.

You...

You come with me as far as the Pacific Coast.

And from there you can go where you like.

To Paris.

Or not.

I think you'd better go.

Your rarified selfishness is intolerable.

Larissa's in danger, too.

By association with me?

No. Not by association with you. You're small fry.

By association with Strelnikov.

I've never met Strelnikov.

You're married to Strelnikov. They know that.

I was married to Pasha Antipov.

I understand, I understand. But they don't.

You're being watched.

Do you know why?

A husband is a sticky commodity, my dear.

Go away!

More of your high-minded lunacy.

You have a child to think of.

Look here.

Here.

That's sugar for the child.

I don't want it.

You'd refuse my sugar?

Who are you to refuse me anything?

Now you go!

- I came-- - Go!

Go!

I came to you in good faith.

You stay here then and get your desserts!

Your desserts, do you hear me?

You think you're immaculate.

You're not immaculate!

I know you!

Do you hear me?

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

Clay!

Clay!

Lara.

He's rubbish, Lara.

Yes, rubbish.

I wish he'd never happened.

Does it matter?

Doesn't it?

Not to me.

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

No, they'd arrest us on the spot.

I don't want to stay here and wait.

No.

Listen.

- We could go to-- - Varykino.

They'd find out sooner or later.

Yes, but later.

And if our days are really numbered, Yuri--

Yes. We'd better live them.

Before we're parted.

Yes.

Anna taught me to write at this desk.

This isn't me, Yuri.

Yes, it is.

No.

It's you.

"Lara."

Yuri!

Yuri, there's a wolf howling!

Oh, yes.

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

Yes. I know.

I'm sorry.

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

No.

It is. Oh, it is!

No. No.

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

Before we did?

Yes.

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

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

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

I shall always think about it.

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

Katya!

Come to me, darling.

Victor!

We thought it was--

Quiet.

I wonder if you'd mind, Comrades?

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

It has a carriage for myself and my assistants.

You would travel in comfort and safety.

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

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

Well, then, I'll have to speak to Yuri Andreyevich in private.

Strelnikov is dead.

What?

Spare me your expressions of regret.

He was a murderous neurotic and no loss to anyone.

Do you see how this affects Larissa?

You don't.

You're a fool.

She's Strelnikov's wife.

Why do you think they haven't arrested her? Is this the usual practice?

Why do you think they had her watched in Yuriatin?

They were waiting for Strelnikov.

If they thought that he would come running to his wife...

...they didn't know him.

They knew him well enough.

He was only five miles from here when they caught him.

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

Throughout the entire interview, he insisted they call him Pavel Antipov...

...which is his right name, and refused to answer to the name of Strelnikov.

On his way to execution, he took a pistol from one of the guards...

...and blew his own brains out.

Oh, my God!

Don't tell Lara this.

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

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

These men that came with me today as an escort...

...will come for her and the child tomorrow, as a firing squad.

Now, I know exactly what you think of me.

And why.

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

So, are you coming with me?

Do you accept the protection of this ignoble Caliban...

...on any terms that Caliban cares to make?

Or, is your delicacy so exorbitant that you would sacrifice a woman and a child to it?

There are some bags to carry, Comrades.

Get in!

Come.

- How many? - All of us.

Sorry, not enough room.

Comrade, there's got to be room.

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

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

You start, I'll catch you up.

Right, Comrades!

We'll see you.

Hurry!

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

You fool!

Did you really think he would come with you?

The man's an idiot.

From Mongolia he could have gone to China.

He'll never leave Russia.

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

Yes.

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

That's right, Victor.

I'm carrying Yuri's child.

I was born out there, in the Far East, somewhere.

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

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

So were a lot of other children.

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

Komarov's a common name. So is Tonya.

With fair hair and blue eyes, lost at the age of eight...

...when the civil war broke out in the Far East.

There's something you haven't told me.

How did you come to be lost?

I can't remember.

I don't believe that. You must remember something.

No!

Shall I tell you how I first met your mother?

If she was my mother, Comrade General.

You doubt it?

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

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

He didn't seem to mind that, or anything.

I thought he was a happier man than me.

He suffered me to buy him a new suit.

And to get him a job at his old hospital.

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

This was eight years after he and Lara parted.

So, he never saw her again?

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

He must have known how ill he was. The walls of his heart were like paper.

But, he kept it to himself. He kept a lot to himself.

Please!

I was astonished at the extent of his reputation.

His work was unobtainable at the time. It was disapproved ofby the Party.

But, if people love poetry, they love poets.

And nobody loves poetry like a Russian.

Excuse me, Comrade.

Are you Yevgraf?.

My name's Lara.

I knew her name from the Lara poems...

...which I'd found among my brother's manuscripts.

I knew your brother.

I need your help.

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

I helped her as far as I could.

But, I knew it was hopeless.

I think I was a little in love with her.

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

She died, or vanished, somewhere...

...in one of the labour camps...

...a nameless number on a list that was afterwards mislaid.

That was quite common in those days.

How did you come to be lost?

- We were running in the street. - We?

- My father. - Not your father, Komarovsky.

I don't know.

The street was under fire.

There were explosions and the houses were falling down...

...and he let go of my hand.

He let go of my hand.

And I was lost.

Would a father have done that?

Oh, yes, people will do anything.

It was Komarovsky.

This man was your father.

Why won't you believe it?

Don't you want to believe it?

Not if it isn't true.

That's inherited.

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

You can imagine how I wanted parents.

I wanted to die when I was a child, you know?

Now, I don't know.

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

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

Will you think about it?

Yes.

It's all right, David.

Do you work here?

Yes, Comrade General. I'm an operator.

And what do you operate?

That!

You've promised to think about it.

Tonya!

Can you play the balalaika?

Can she play?

She's an artist!

An artist? Who taught you?

No one taught her.

Then, it's a gift.