Original subtitles

Produced by Studio 2-B-2 Entertainment

with the support of the Federal Agency for Culture and Cinematography

Mikhail Bulgakov

The MASTER and MARGARITA

Woland Oleg Basilashvili

Margarita Anna Kovalchuk

Koroviev Aleksandr Abdulov

Azazello Aleksandr Filippenko

Cat Behemoth Vano Miranjan, Semen Furman

Gella Tanya Yu

Man in uniform Valentin Gaft

Poplavsky Roman Kartsev

Fokich Georgy Shtil

Rimsky Ilya Oleynikov

Investigator Aleksandr Tshaban

Sempleyarov - Valentin Smirnitsky Sempleyarov's Wife - Tatyana Tkach

Latunsky - Stanislav Landgraf Prokhor Petrovich - Viktor Smirnov

Natasha - Kseniya Nazarova Nikolai Ivanovich - Vadim Lobanov

Music Igor Kornelyuk

Cinematographer Valeri Myulgaut

Co-Producer - Ruben Dishdishyan Producer - Vladimir Bortko

Executive Producers Anton Zlatopolsky, Valery Todorovsky

Screenwriter and Director Vladimir Bortko

Part Six

KIEV RAILWAY STATION

Sadovaya 302B HOUSE COMMITTEE

Good day!

May I see the chairman of the Committee...

Basova... Bosoy... Basoyev?

The chairman isn't here.

Is he in his flat?

It's an urgent matter.

When will he be back?

Where is the secretary...

Prolezhnov?

Again...

The secretary's not here either and...

...nobody knows when he'll be back.

The secretary is ill.

Surely there's somebody from the Committee?

Me.

You see...

I am the sole heir of the late Berlioz-

-my nephew-

-who, as you know...

...lost his life at the Patriarch's.

And I'm obliged, by law-

-to accept the inheritance contained in flat No. 50.

I've no idea, comrade.

But you are a member of the Committee-

-and are obliged to...

Committee member Pyatnashko?

Yes.

What a complication.

Of course, all of them at the same time...

Good day!

My name is Poplavsky.

I'm the uncle... of the late... Berlioz.

Well, well, well!

As soon as I saw you I knew... it was you!

Such a tragedy!

What on earth is going on?

-Run over by a tram? -Mm-mh.

Completely!

I was a witness - oh yes!

Believe me...

Crunch! - the head's gone.

The right leg...

Crunch! - right in two.

The left leg - Crunch! - right in two.

That's what these trams do to us!

Excuse me...

Were you a friend of my late...

...Misha?

No, I can't bear it.

I'll go and take 300 drops of valerian tincture.

No, it's too much.

No, I simply can't...

When I think of it - that wheel... on his leg.

Crunch!

Just one wheel weighs 150 kilos!

I'll go lie down in bed.

Lose myself in sleep.

Pardon me...

Was it you who sent me... the telegram?

Him!

Well yes, I sent the telegram!

Then what?

I'm asking in plain Russian.

Then what?

Passport!

Which office issued this document?

412 - yes, of course!

I know that office well.

They hand out passports to anyone!

But I wouldn't have given to someone like you - not a chance!

One look at your face and I'd refuse you on the spot!

Permission to attend the funeral is hereby revoked.

Be so kind as to return to your residence.

-Azazello! -I'm coming.

Good day!

Poplavsky?

Is it clear?

Return immediately to Kiev.

And keep as quiet as a mouse.

And as for flats in Moscow...

Forget it!

Got it?

Poplavsky! Are you alive?

Pardon me.

May I ask, citizen-

-where's flat number 50?

Upstairs!

Thank you most humbly, citizen.

So what?

Well, come in... since you rang.

Allo.

Yes.

Who?

Baron Meigel?

Listening.

What filth!

The artiste is home today.

Yes, he'll be glad to see you.

Yes, guests.

Tails or a black dinner jacket.

What?

By midnight.

What do you want?

I need to see...

...the citizen... artiste.

What?

You mean in person?

Yes.

Go to the lounge.

Oh, lord!

My God...

Well...

How might I help you?

I'm the buffet manager of the Variety Theatre...

No!

No, no!

Not a word more!

Not under any circumstances, never again!

Not a bite from your buffet!

Yesterday, I happened to pass by your counter-

-and I still cannot forget the sturgeon or the feta.

My dear man!

Feta is not supposed to be green.

You've been tricked.

It's meant to be white!

And the tea - it's nothing but dishwater.

I saw with my own eyes - some slovenly girl-

-pouring unboiled water from a bucket into your huge samovar-

-and yet they were still serving tea from it.

No, no, my good man!

-This is impossible! -I apologise.

That's not why I came.

-It's not about the sturgeon. -Not if it's spoilt?

The sturgeon was of second freshness.

Second freshness is nonsense!

Freshness only comes in one kind - the first.

And it's also the last!

If the sturgeon is of second freshness, that means it's rotten.

I didn't come about that matter.

-Not that? -Not that.

And what else could have brought you to me?

-Eh... -Glad after all.

Fagott!

A tabouret for the buffet manager!

Here you are.

-I humbly thank you! -Don't mention it.

Did you hurt yourself?

I prefer sitting low. It's less dangerous to fall from there.

Take off your trousers, we'll dry them by the fire.

No, no!

Thank you!

Here's a chair.

So, we left off at the sturgeon.

My dear fellow!

Freshness, freshness and freshness!

That ought to be every buffet manager's motto.

Care for a bite?

Most humbly, I...

No, no... Try it!

Most humbly...

Try it, try it!

A cup of wine?

White, red?

Which country's wine do you prefer at this time of day?

Humbly, I don't drink.

What a shame!

But what about a game of dice?

Or do you prefer some other games?

Dominoes... cards?

I don't play.

That's bad!

But why...

There's something unpleasant lurking in men-

-who avoid wine, gambling, the company of charming women, lively talk, eh?

Such people are either gravely ill-

-or secretly hate those around them.

So let's hear what's on your mind.

Yesterday you were performing some tricks.

Me?

Spare me!

These aren't really my kind of thing!

My apologies. I mean...

...the séance of black magic.

Ah... yes, yes...

My dear fellow, let me tell you a little secret.

I'm not an artiste.

What!

I simply wished to see the Muscovites - en masse.

The easiest way to do it was at the theatre-

-so my retinue here...

Glad to meet!

...arranged this séance.

I simply sat and watched the Muscovites.

No, don't give me that look!

So, regarding this séance, what exactly brought you to me?

You see... among other things-

-paper money fell from the ceiling.

-And everyone tried to grab them. -Grab them, yes.

And then a young man came into the buffet...

Yes, a young man.

-...and gave me a tenner. -A tenner?

-I gave him 8.50 in change. -8.50?

-Then another one... -A young man?

No, an older man.

Then a third, a fourth, and I gave them all change.

And today, I check the till - and what do I see?

Cut paper!

The buffet was 109 roubles short.

Ay, ay, ay!

Did they really think those notes were real?

I refuse to believe they did it on purpose.

Could they be swindlers?

Could there really be, among Muscovites...

...swindlers?

That's low!

You're a poor man.

A poor man, aren't you?

How much do you have in savings?

249,000 roubles... in five savings banks.

And 200 ten-rouble gold coins under the floor at home.

Well, of course, that's not a vast sum.

But enough for a modest life.

Though frankly, you won't really need it.

When are you going to die?

No one knows that. And it's no one's business!

No one knows, sure! As if were Newton's binomial.

He will die in nine months, in February next year-

-of liver cancer.

At the clinic of Moscow State University ward number four.

249,000 over nine months-

-that works out to be roughly 27,000 a month.

Not much...

But enough to live simply. And the gold...

No, no! The gold roubles can't be cashed!

After Fokich dies, the house will be torn down-

-and the gold will go to the State Bank.

I wouldn't set foot in that clinic.

What's the point of dying in a ward-

-to the rattles and moans of the other half-dead?

Why not throw a banquet with those 27,000-

-and after taking poison-

-leave this world to the sound of strings-

-surrounded by drunken beauties-

-and dashing friends?

Just dreaming.

Show me your cut paper.

Ten-rouble notes!

My dear fellow, you really are unwell!

And what if they try it again?

Ah...

Well then, you must come back to us.

You're most welcome!

Pleased to meet you!

-What more do you want? -I forgot my hat.

-Not mine. -You came without a sword?

Variety's courier Karpov-

-reported that the culprits allegedly lived in flat No. 50.

But do note, in fact, that officially flat No. 50-

-was home to the director of the Variety, Likhodeev-

-and the chairman of Massolit, Berlioz-

-who was killed by a tram in strange circumstances.

His death also-

-sparked scandalous outrage at Massolit.

Flat No. 50 was searched repeatedly, but no results came of it.

No one was found in the flat during any of the raids.

Meanwhile, today's theft of the head suggests-

-the gang is in Moscow, and is stepping up its activities.

If I may, it's utterly irrational.

Thousands of spectators -

- the entire staff of the Variety - saw this magician-

-as well as his cursed assistants.

Yet there's not a trace of him anywhere.

Do you think he vanished into thin air?

Or perhaps never came to Moscow at all?

Our only lead is...

Agent Meigel!

He's arranged by telephone to meet that...

...magician.

Send telegrams with descriptions of the criminals and missing persons-

-Likhodeev, Rimsky... Varenukha.

Interrogate everyone again!

Stake out the building!

Block all exits, including the entrance to the service yard!

Moreover, place guards on the roof near the chimneys!

Agent Meigel, the former baron...

I'll handle him myself!

Arkady Apollonovich is unwell.

He's resting and can't take the call.

Who's asking?

This second... just a minute!

Now! Now!

NKVD!

Yes!

Yes, it's me.

Listening...

Your slipper!

Your slipper! You'll catch cold...

Put your slipper on, you'll get cold!

Yes, absolutely!

I quite understand.

I'm leaving now, yes!

So... Prokhor Petrovich.

What do you know of Woland, and how did he get to the Variety?

I swear, I categorically know nothing about any Woland.

Didn't you get the programme while Likhodeev was away?

I swear, no programme for the performance...

...no Woland, no missing Likhodeev was sent to me for approval.

And I received no calls about any Woland arriving.

I just can't understand-

-how the Variety, Likhodeev, allowed such a séance.

Is this your decision?

Yes... yes, mine, mine.

It's mine.

But I don't remember...

I wasn't in my costume.

You remember everything!

Bring in Sempleyarov.

Come in!

This is a burdensome and unpleasant conversation-

-as I must speak with complete candour-

-about the actress Militsa Andreevna Pokabatko...

We'll handle it later.

Now tell us about the séance of black magic at the Variety Theatre.

As an intelligent and cultured man who witnessed that disgraceful séance-

-I wish to speak of the magician, masked under the name of Woland-

-and his two malevolent assistants, whose faces I remember well.

So, what do you say, Prokhor Petrovich?

LENINGRAD

Second floor, comrades.

Room 12.

Open up, Rimsky, we know you're in there.

Here!

You're under arrest.

Lock me in a bulletproof cell and post armed guards outside.

Interesting...

...who is being buried with such...

...puzzled faces?

Berlioz!

Mikhail Alexandrovich, chairman of Massolit.

They're in quite a peculiar mood.

They're escorting the deceased, thinking of nothing...

-...but his missing head! -What head?

Yes, you see-

-this morning in Griboedov Hall-

-the deceased's head was stolen from the coffin.

-How can that be? -The devil knows how!

We'd better ask Behemoth about it.

He's a damn good thief!

But the real question is who would need Berlioz's head?

So, they're all... writers following the coffin?

Naturally, it's them.

-Do you recognise them by sight? -Every single one of them.

Could he be there, the critic Latunsky?

How could he not be?

There he is, in the forth row, do you see?

With eyes lifted to the heavens.

It seems to me, Margarita Nikolaevna-

-that you hate this... Latunsky.

Do you know me?

-I don't know you. -How could you know me?

And yet-

-I've been sent to you...

...on a small matter.

You want to arrest me?

Nothing of the sort!

As soon you open your mouth, they'll be arrested!

It's just...

...we've business with you.

What business?

I've been sent...

...to bring you an invitation for this evening to pay... a visit-

-to a most distinguished foreign gentleman.

-The street pimps have arrived! -Bitch! -Swine!

"The darkness that came in from the Mediterranean...

...covered the city so hated by the Procurator."

"Yershalaim, the great city-

-vanished as if it had never existed."

And you can vanish too, with your charred pages and that dried rose!

Sitting here alone on the bench-

-begging him to set you free, to let you breathe again-

-to vanish from your memory!

How did you know about the pages? Has Natasha been bribed?

But how could you know my thoughts?

Who are you, which institution are you from?

What a bore...

I'm not from any institution.

My name is Azazello.

But that means anything to you.

Do you know about him?

I beg you, is he alive?

-Don't torment me! -He might be. -Oh God! -Just please!

No fuss, no shouting!

Yes...

-Forgive me... -I'm inviting you to meet a foreigner-

-who is completely harmless.

Not a living soul will know about your visit, I promise.

If I'm right, you're hinting that-

-I might find something on him there?

I'm coming. I'll go wherever you want!

A tricky lot, these women...

Why was I sent on this mission...

...instead of Behemoth?

He's a charmer!

It took me an hour to persuade you!

-So you're coming? -I'm coming!

Then kindly take this...

It'll do you good, Margarita Nikolaevna.

Grief has aged you terribly...

...these past six months.

Tonight, at exactly half past nine-

-please be so kind as to undress completely-

-and rub this ointment over your face and body.

Then, do whatever you want.

But don't leave the telephone!

At exactly ten, I'll call you and tell you all you need to know!

Understood?

Understood.

This is pure gold, you can tell by its weight. Well...

I'm being drawn into some shady business and will pay a heavy price...

What, you're at it again!

-Give the cream back! -No, wait!

Give it back!

I know... what I'm getting into!

I'll risk everything for him.

Because I've lost all hope in everything else.

But I want to tell you...

If you betray me... you'll regret it!

Yes, regret it!

Because I'm dying for love.

Hah!

What a cream!

Forgive me...

...and as soon as possible... forget me.

I'm leaving you... forever.

Don't try to find me.

I've become a witch...

...because the grief...

...and misfortune that has struck me.

It's time for me to go. Farewell.

Margarita.

How... how can that...

How did you do that, Margarita Nikolaevna?!

It's the cream!

The cream!

Leave them!

Leave them! Devil take them! Leave them!

Or, no, keep them!

Keep them as a souvenir!

Take everything that's in the room!

Azazello will call soon.

Yes, he'll call!

The foreigner is harmless.

Yes! I see he's completely harmless!

It's the neighbour from downstairs.

Hello, Nikolai Ivanovich!

Good evening!

Back from a meeting?

And I...

...am sitting here alone, bored-

-gazing at the moon listening to a waltz.

Nikolai Ivanovich, that's impolite!

I'm still a lady, after all.

It's rude not to answer when someone is talking to you.

You're so boring, Nikolai Ivanovich.

I'm so sick and tired of you! I can't even put it into words!

Damn you!

Go to the devil!

-This is Azazello. -Dear, dear Azazello!

It's time! Fly away.

When you pass over the gate, shout "Invisible"!

Fly around the city to get used to it-

-and then head south, straight to the river.

You're awaited.

Farewell, Nikolai Ivanovich!

Farewell forever, I'm flying away!

Farewell, Natasha!

Margarita Nikolaevna!

Invisible!

And free!

Not at all, you can't!

I said, turn off the light after the loo, Pelageya Petrovna!

-If not, we'll have you evicted! -You're so kind!

You're two of a kind!

KOMSOMOL MEMBERS - TO THE PLANES!

DRAMLIT HOUSE

...Khustov, Dvubratsky, Kvant, Beskudnikov, Latunsky.

Latunsky...! Latunsky, that's him!

He's the one who ruined the master!

Open! Open!

Open the door!

It's ringing, it's time.