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WWW.MY-SUBS.CO
๏ปฟ1 - Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.MY-SUBS.com -
No. Please.
Stop! Please!
State your name.
Alexander Ilyich Rostov.
Address?
For the last four years, I have resided
in Suite 317 of the Metropol Hotel.
Why?
My house was burned down.
Occupation?
It is not the business of gentlemen to have occupations.
You do not seem to appreciate the gravity of your position.
No, I fear I understand it perfectly.
You left Russia for Paris in the spring of 1914?
Yes, I remember apple blossom in the trees.
In all likelihood, it was spring, yes.
What concerns us here
is your return in 1918.
Why did you come back only a year after the Revolution?
You must have understood the reception a man of your...
nobility would receive.
I missed the climate.
Are you the author
of this poem of 1913:
"Where Is Our Purpose Now?"
Were you the author?
It was attributed to me, yes.
Many consider this poem
a call to revolutionary action.
Hard for us to equate with a man
who has clearly succumbed to the corruptions of his class
and now is a threat against Russia and her people.
I am one of her people.
You were.
It is our inclination to have you put against the wall.
But there are those within the senior ranks of the Party
who, because of your poem,
count you among the heroes of the revolutionary cause.
Therefore, it is the judgment of this committee,
now the Metropol is under full Party control,
that you be returned to the hotel of which you are so fond,
where you will remain for the rest of your days.
And make no mistake,
should you ever set foot outside of the Metropol again,
you will be shot.
Gentlemen, I think I can find my own way.
Move.
That day, the Count thought his life was over,
but in truth it was only the beginning.
Not just for him but for me, too.
And in the years that followed,
Count Alexander Rostov would come to mean the world to me.
Your Excellency, we didn't think you'd...
Good to see you, Vasily.
My suite is on the third floor, gentlemen.
The lift or the stairs?
How are we supposed to win on the field of battle
if we can't decide between the lift and the stairs?
Have you ever been on the field of battle?
The stairs it is.
Ah, ah, ah.
It's a beautiful view of the Bolshoi, isn't it?
All these things are yours?
S-Save for the floorboards and the bed, yes.
I read your poem.
The tone of your voice suggests
that you are not a great admirer.
I found it hard to believe
those words came from the mouth of a man like you.
What is the meaning of all this?
I'm here to show you to your quarters.
These are my quarters.
What is this place?
Before the Revolution, these rooms were
for the servants of the hotel guests.
Well, it has a window at least.
And I'll just about fit on this bed.
Ah, G-sharp, I believe.
Yes. This will do very nicely, thank you.
Your diminished circumstances won't allow you
to keep all of your possessions.
But I will allow you to take a few personal items.
And the rest?
Becomes the property of the people.
I should add, we've liberated your currency from the hotel safe.
Food and board will be provided.
Life for you and your kind is over in Moscow.
You must never leave this hotel.
If you do...
I'll be waiting.
Apologies.
I never thought to ask your name.
My name is not your concern.
Well, thank you. You have carried out your duties
with the greatest courtesy available to you.
You open the door,
raise the weights...
... once a week.
Without fail, Alexander.
Helena.
Good evening, Andrey.
Your Excellency, bonsoir.
I wasn't sure if you would be dining with us this evening.
I was assured food and board.
I'll show you to a table.
Thank you.
Imbeciles.
A saltimbocca requires veal wrapped in prosciutto.
Where is the prosciutto? Where is the sage?
We have no prosciutto, Chef, or sage.
Then this is not a saltimbocca!
- No, Chef. - It is merely badly cooked veal.
Sorry, Chef, we're out of veal.
Of course we're out of veal!
A saltimbocca on table seven.
For the Count.
The Count?
Is he here?
- What's he doing? - I believe he's refusing to be beaten.
Everything to your satisfaction, Your Excellency?
The saltimbocca...
... with chicken instead of veal?
Mm-hmm.
And instead of prosciutto,
shaved Ukrainian ham?
In place of the sage,
and I must admit this took me a moment,
but I think it's nettle.
A man with taste is a rare thing these days.
Nettle it was, Your Excellency.
Your palate remains, uh, unsurpassed.
Bravo, sir.
Bravo.
Your Excellency.
I-I didn't expect you.
Yaroslav, for you, I am happy to wait.
Hello.
Hello.
I like your mustache.
Oh.
I like your, uh, hair.
Alexander Ilyich?
Is it really you?
Prince Nikolai, my dear friend, it's so wonderful to...
It's just Nikolai now.
You're looking well.
How have you been?
I-I'll be with you in a moment.
Tell me everything.
The last time I saw you, you were playing Bach
at one of your grandmother's dinner parties.
I guess I'm still playing Bach at dinner parties.
I-I'll be here most weeks.
And your mother and sister are well?
They're in Switzerland.
Oh, yes, I think I had heard that.
Are you still, uh, living at the old palace?
They've taken it over.
But, um, they let me keep a room.
Well, at least we have our health.
Well, I-I'd better get on.
Of course. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you.
Perhaps w-we could have a drink at the bar after my dinner.
I'd like that very much.
Nikolai.
They can take away your house or your rooms.
They can't take away who you are.
I thought you were in Paris.
Why on earth did you return to this madhouse?
To get my grandmother safely on a ship to England.
Audrius, could we have the same again?
Yes, Your Excellency.
Thank you.
I was sorry to hear about your sister.
What are we still doing here?
When I was a young boy,
not long after my parents died, my grandmother the Countess
invited a boy over from the neighboring estate.
She thought it might cheer me up.
Obolensky he was called.
He beat me at a game of draughts.
I didn't take it well.
Tears were shed, pieces were scattered.
I might even have uttered a curse.
Later that evening,
she found me still full of rage.
And she said,
"There's nothing pleasant to be said about losing,
and that Obolensky boy certainly is a pill,
but, Sasha, my dear, why on earth
would you give him the satisfaction?"
Obolensky...
That's not Vladimir Obolensky, is it?
Of the Nizhny Obolenskys?
- Yes, the very same. - Oh.
Your grandmother's correct, he is a pill.
He was.
They burned him alive in his house.
They won't stop, Sasha.
I know someone wh-who can...
provide papers ensuring safe transit.
We-we could leave the country.
Unless we were recognized en route.
Well, you'd have to clip your wings.
No, that alone is a good reason to stay.
Sasha, how can you joke?
Because if I take it seriously,
I could fall into a dark despair I could find no way out from.
There's no bars across the doors.
Once you're out of the hotel, we could disappear.
Go east, go west.
We could start again.
As who? As what?
Does it matter? We would be alive.
This is still my country.
Thank you.
To Russia.
To Russia.
Is it just us now?
Yes, you're so good.
Apologies for my tardiness.
What will it be today, Your Excellency?
Just the usual, if you'd be so kind.
I was next.
I will be with you in just a moment, sir.
I was here before he was.
Oh, uh, I have a standing appointment at 12 on a Tuesday.
If you would just please wait.
Why should I? Why should he go before me?
Well, as I explained, I have a...
He has a standing appointment.
I was here first.
You'll have your appointment soon enough.
Your Excellency.
Hey!
Thank you.
Oh, that won't be necessary. I know it by heart.
Oh, you must be the guest from the top floor.
Yes, delighted to make your acquaintance.
Oh, um...
Well, yes, I will have the fillet of sole.
Would you like a glass of wine with your fish?
A Sauternes, perhaps?
Oh, I think a bottle of Chรขteau Baudelaire might be more fitting.
- Of course. - Thank you.
- Your fish, sir? - Ah.
Ah, that looks delicious. Thank...
Mmm.
- Where did they go? - I beg your pardon?
- Your mustaches. - Well, they, uh...
- I... it... - Is it true that you're a count?
- It is. - Have you ever known a princess?
I have known many princesses.
Was it terribly hard to be a princess?
Terribly. Especially so since our glorious revolution.
Is that any good?
Didn't you have a lunch of your own?
- At a different table? - I didn't like it.
With my compliments.
Hmm.
So, how would a princess spend her day?
Like any young lady.
In the morning, she would have lessons.
In the afternoon, she would visit with friends.
And at lunchtime, she would eat her vegetables.
My father says that a princess personifies
the decadence of a vanquished era.
Well, perhaps a few.
Not all, I can assure you.
Don't worry. Papa knows everything there is to know
about the workings of a tractor,
but absolutely nothing about the workings of a princess.
Have you ever been in a duel?
Not exactly.
But my godfather was a second
on more than one occasion.
- A second? - When two gentlemen
agree to duel, they each appoint seconds,
lieutenants who settle upon the rules of engagement.
What sort of rules of engagement?
The time, the place, what weapons will be used.
If it's pistols, how many paces.
One of the duels my godfather seconded
sprang from a dispute that occurred
in this very hotel, between an admiral and a prince
whose differences came to a head one night in the lobby.
Were they in love with the same woman?
I don't think a woman was involved.
A woman is always involved.
Yes, well, whatever the cause, at the time,
the hotel was managed by a fellow named Keffler.
And it was well known that he kept
a pair of antique pistols in his office behind a painting,
so that if a challenge was accepted,
carriages could be summoned,
and parties could be whisked away, weapons in hand.
In the hours before dawn?
To a secluded spot.
The reality, I'm afraid, was not quite as romantic.
Hmm.
The hotel manager would like to speak to you.
What? Might I finish my lunch first?
Of course.
Thank you.
I appreciate your stopping by.
It's my pleasure.
It's been brought to my attention
that certain members of the staff, uh,
when addressing you,
h-have continued to make use of certain...
um... amplifications.
Amplifications?
Yeah, "Your Excellency," and what have you.
Ah. Yes.
- I suppose they have. - Hmm.
Well, if it, you know, if it were up to me, um,
you know, naturally enough...
well, you know, goes without saying,
but what with...
Uh, honorifics were elegant things in their day,
but they, uh, they do seem to have outlived their usefulness.
It is the business of times to change, Mr. Halecki.
And gentlemen to change with them.
Quite.
Might I ask who brought this to your attention?
You know why they allow this hotel
to continue operating,
serving the clientele that it does?
So that everyone can be watched.
So they can find those disloyal to the party.
It's been that way since the Revolution.
It's only gonna get worse.
This hotel is a dangerous place.
Especially for you.
As you can see, Vasily,
I'm in the middle of a conversation
with one of our guests.
My apologies to you both,
but if I could see you for a moment...
Very well.
Um...
Eh...
How do you propose we go about it?
We'd have to wear a disguise.
I-I can steal some coats
from the Red Army soldiers that are staying at my home.
You walk with confidence, no one will pay us any heed.
- Just another Bolshevik soldier. - Yes.
Outside, I'll make sure there's a car waiting,
and from there, we'll go to the train station.
There's Red Army soldiers all over Moscow, but...
these papers
that I can have drawn up,
they should get us as far as the train.
From there, we lose our Red Army insignia
and we walk the 200 miles to Minsk...
... and to our freedom.
And-and our belongings?
No.
We can't take anything with us that might give us away.
Not even Helena.
How much will you need?
Do you think that might suffice?
- Well, maybe... some... - Oh.
Thank you.
Will they really shoot you
if you go outside?
You appear and disappear like a spirit.
- What's your name? - Nina Kulikova.
Count Alexander Ilyich Rostov.
- Where is your father? - He's working.
He's always working.
- And your mother? - Dead.
Oh, I am sorry to hear that.
I lost both my father and my mother at a similar age.
People aren't lost.
They're taken from us.
Ah, little Nina,
how are we going to survive these endless days stuck in this hotel?
I've found a way to escape.
I have a passkey that opens every door in the hotel.
It's important to remember that there are rooms behind rooms
and doors behind doors.
Come on.
- Where are you taking us? - You'll see.
This is the perfect place
to destroy secret messages and illicit love letters.
You do receive illicit love letters, Count?
Most certainly.
There's more.
- I'm not sure we should... - Don't be such a fuddy-duddy.
Look, we can spy on the ballroom.
Come on.
If you pull this lever, it throws the ballroom
into complete darkness.
This way.
Oh, she's the maid who used
to change my sheets.
- ... eyes closed, eyes closed. - Her name's Marina.
Every day she collects leftover food,
to make a feast for her little boy.
His name's Yasha.
These are all the novels and travel guides
hotel guests leave behind.
This was my godfather's favorite chair.
They're just things.
All my memories exist within them.
Through here.
Come on, there's more I have to show you.
Come on.
Look.
I didn't know this was here. What's all this for?
Papa says some government work
is too important even for the Kremlin.
Come on, let's go.
Hide.
How many do we have
- to get through tomorrow? - Uh, 14 in the morning
- and 12 in the afternoon. - Only 12?
That we have gathered evidence against.
Evidence? What evidence do you need?
Give me a man and I will find a crime.
Five more names.
They're rounding more people up,
putting them on trial.
It doesn't matter to them whether a crime
has been committed or not.
- That's all the more reason for us to go. - For you to go.
And quickly, while you still have a chance.
I saw your name on a list.
I picked up the papers today.
A few more weeks and everything will be in place for our escape.
We don't have a few more weeks, it could be days.
Hours.
You have to leave now.
But you have to come with me.
I can't.
For the same reason I couldn't leave before.
Helena?
Yes.
There's no use me telling you that...
she'd want you to live your life.
Perhaps I don't deserve to.
You ever change your mind...
... these will get you safe passage.
You are a true friend.
But no.
Now, you must go. Tonight.
I will.
After I've played Rachmaninoff on Russian soil one last time.
And would you know, Nina,
Nikolai Petrov is a real-life prince?
Yes.
His father was a famous general,
but fighting wasn't in his blood.
His one great love is music.
And they say that since he was three years old,
he spent more time with a violin in his hand than without.
Nikolai.
Nikolai.
Nikolai!
Nikolai!
Your friend did some business
with an element we've been watching.
I'm curious as to why he needed two sets of travel documents.
Years later, the Count would tell me
that he wished he'd had the courage to do more.
In truth, had he left the hotel that night,
he would have died on the pavement a few seconds later.
And I would not be alive to tell this tale.
- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.MY-SUBS.com -
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