Original subtitles

Salle Pleyel! Quick!

Chopin!

- Mr. Chopin has arrived. - You are wonderful.

Thank you.

Here comes the most talented of my friends.

You're here! Are you okay?

Not.

- Fryc. - Good morning.

- Did you think I wouldn't come? - You said at the big concerts.

The mob doesn't listen. They just come to stare.

And that this is the last time.

This one will be the last.

Attention!

Please get ready, we are starting.

Ladies and gentlemen,

for the first time in history the most outstanding pianists on earth

they will play variations on the march together

from Vincenzo Bellini's "I Puritani." "Hexameron"!

- You'd love to go out, wouldn't you? - No. Why?

Too many people. I play too quietly.

Close your eyes and play. 500 francs in a few minutes.

You don't have to look at them.

Franz Liszt!

I can earn money by giving lessons.

And Fryderyk Chopin!

And now...

let the music play!

The Marquis is tearing his hair out.

He runs to the fence, wanting to tear it down. He yells:

"You disgusting bulldog! What happened?"

And the bulldog on that...

"Well, I don't know."

Countess Potocka! Long live Poland.

You are divine.

Your voice sounds better than all the sopranos in the world.

You have a way of stimulating all my senses.

Wait!

The fair sex is underrepresented among us.

I don't like this. Ladies...

What beauties!

I invite you to a party.

I promise you a delightful night.

I invite!

- Fryc, good evening! - Company, march forward!

To mucha.

A lot!

Alert! Barbarian!

Devilish bohemian! How dare you chase me away...

simpleton!

Where is she?

- There! - No, there!

Fryc.

In a minute...

Is this...?

Could this be...?

Not...

To Eden.

God's garden.

God, how beautiful it is here!

The air is so sweet...

If this is heaven for the saved, I can die today.

How good...

Warmth and happiness...

I feel them under each of my legs.

And even if I...

she walked through the dark valley,

I will fear no evil!

I will lay my eggs here.

She bit me!

Good evening.

- I'll leave you guys. - Thank you.

Thank you.

Fryc, we're on our way.

Goodbye.

Supposedly a great doctor.

I'm done. Are you satisfied?

I never am.

Thank you.

Please, sir!

The first voice is great,

Miss Rothschild. You played with a beautiful sound.

You always say that. It doesn't mean anything.

- It means everything. - Can I play something else?

Please.

NO!

I studied it for two weeks.

I asked not to play my songs.

You are not ready.

It is not enough to play a melody.

Charlotte's drug,

You are wonderful and play like an angel.

But it's embarrassing for me. Do you understand?

At home, please practice in peace,

leisurely.

See you on Saturday.

Please give my regards to your parents.

Let's stop, Miss Stirling.

Okay, but you're speeding up unnecessarily.

Too many unnecessary emotions.

Please don't bite your lips.

Now we will play a fantasy...

Bumblebee.

Please.

Let's stop.

The differences between these two fragments need to be highlighted more strongly.

First lightly and gently,

then in a more combined way, but with a crescendo.

Please, from the beginning.

Did you find anything interesting?

Please cough and spit.

Stronger.

You have tuberculosis.

You have tuberculosis.

Spitting up blood indicates perforation of the pleura,

and this is the late stage of the disease.

You have a few years left to live.

How much exactly?

Because a few means both two and nine.

I don't know.

Please listen. I can't cure you.

Today no one in the world will cure you.

We can only alleviate the symptoms.

I will prescribe medications that will help you cope with what is coming.

Come?

Tuberculosis develops in relapses.

First you will cough up blood.

Then more and more profuse bleeding will occur,

lasting up to two weeks.

There will be moments of relief in between.

But it is only an illusion that you are healthy.

Over time...

the whole body will weaken, but especially the legs.

They will swell, especially towards the end.

Late...

Do you have children?

None that I know of.

If you feel the need, do not delay.

Tuberculosis weakens male performance.

Over time, you will suffer from sexual impotence.

Eventually he will become sterile.

You need to get enough sleep and avoid crowds.

Any cold can kill you.

It's best to leave Paris.

Fresh air will slow down the progression of the disease.

And the sun.

Sun and sun again.

All right.

I'm going to the countryside

and I will take everything you write down.

Thank you.

A friend said your sister had tuberculosis.

Emilia. She was 15 when she died.

So you know what it looks like.

His Majesty is getting impatient.

I know, I know.

Thank you.

At last!

Your Majesty will forgive the delay.

Terrible crowds on the streets today.

Please play. Everyone is waiting.

Thank you.

Chopin!

Your music is the nicest gift,

that I could ask for for my birthday.

All the best.

How did you know that I loved this etude?

I am the king, I cannot cry.

If my efforts please the king,

I don't want more.

There's no need to be so high-flown.

We like each other after all.

Your music is beautiful.

I also have a present for you.

Passport.

Your Highness.

Good evening.

Congratulations.

You are now a true Frenchman.

French genius.

My subjects.

From Poland.

With all due respect, Your Highness,

I left Poland, but Poland will never leave me.

Infection!

Don't leave the house!

Plague! Don't leave the house!

Where would I run away to?

Under the bridge, I guess. Besides, I'm getting married in a month.

Congratulations. Are you in love?

How do you imagine it?

This is what I learned for Vincent.

- Not bad, huh? - Well done, Louise!

It's strange that you didn't leave.

They say gravediggers jump over corpses to fit them into the pits.

It's better to close the window or the plague will come in.

Apparently musicians are immune to cholera.

You're a fool, sir.

I completely agree.

I actually like being alone.

You have more tailcoats than there are sheets in the neighborhood.

Everyone loves you. And women in general.

You like your job. You have a beautiful life.

He can be happy. It would be a shame if you died.

Did they come?

Me.

I guess you too?

I'll bring a clean one the day after tomorrow.

Please stay. I'll make some tea.

Tea? You can't make it, can you?

And my fiancé is waiting for me.

Goodbye.

Stop playing! Let people live!

For help.

Help!

Help! Help!

Doctor!

Don't shout, Mr. Pianist!

This man is alive.

Right now, right away.

We will help you.

There's a living person here!

He's alive! I just saw it!

He needs help. What are you doing?

- Save him! - Save him yourself!

The cemetery is an hour's drive away. I'm collecting bodies from two neighborhoods.

By the time I get there, he will be dead.

If you want to live, put on a mask.

I have a matter for you.

Breakfast!

We have already eaten.

Good morning, dad.

Good morning, son.

Departure to Paris!

My fiancée paints wonderfully.

The perfect room for kids!

One bed here, another one there.

- Great. I'll take it. - Congratulations.

- What's the price? - Six thousand francs a year.

The deal stands.

No, no.

Excuse me, has Chopin arrived yet?

Chopin?

- Which one is it? - The one with the big nose.

This Pole?

Poor fellow!

Without a homeland, without family, without money,

he's probably hungry.

Has anyone seen a hungry person wearing gloves for 30 francs?

Besides, why the hell did he insult the Tsar?

He was asking to be banished from Poland!

Narcissist. Loves only himself.

Attention please.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Baron James de Rothschild and his wife

and daughter, Charlotte.

Recently, after your concert, I couldn't eat or sleep.

For at least a week.

Can I invite you for tea?

You gave up on Erard pianos and they immediately became cheaper.

- Erard is distraught. - I'm sorry.

Sir?

Are you feeling well?

Fryc!

How are you having fun?

I'm going to play.

What are you doing?

Master, not now.

Please don't give me orders.

- Sir Baron. - Yes?

- What shall I play for you? - Please improvise...

- Napoleon at Waterloo. - Excellent.

Sorry.

Napoleon was said to have dozed during Wellington's attack.

Retreat!

Retreat!

Please play some Chopin at last.

Mr. Chopin.

In thanks from the Baron.

Thank you.

Good morning.

Pierre!

Pan Chopin?

- Good morning. - Please tell me,

that you still have sorbet.

I've been dreaming about it for ages.

- Peach and pear? - No.

Lemon.

Of course.

Lemon sorbet.

I'm dead.

Idiotic mistake.

Mr. Chopin is dead.

He's dead.

Touch.

Go ahead!

Maybe I'm a ghost?

Enjoy your meal.

Behold, I have risen from the dead and will eat sherbet.

When I pick them up from the station, there will be a private dinner.

Her, me and her mother.

But we'll visit you, I promise. They'd love to meet you.

Everything is ready.

Is Mama Wodzińska also fantastic?

Do you know what "mother-in-law" is in Italian?

What is it like with children?

With children?

If they get involved with you, they will be terribly sad.

Come.

I'll play you something.

My father bred rabbits.

They are not much different from children.

They eat, shit and sleep.

And you can hug them.

Now listen.

I have something like this on my mind.

What do you think?

Do you want a hammer?

As for children, since they are the only ones you are interested in:

it's the easiest love in the world.

It never ends.

You love children,

they make you and everyone happy.

Is this new?

Not.

What did you write?

You're crazy.

- Is this some kind of joke? - My new scherzo.

Can't you write a normal accompaniment?

You just scatter sounds like that,

that I break my fingers?

I don't scatter, I just arrange.

Listen.

- Here they are. - I'll go out through the kitchen.

I will learn this.

It's not finished!

Don't be afraid, I'll pay you back.

- What did he say? - He's grieving about Poland again.

Here!

We are waiting!

Jasiu, come on!

Good morning. Will you allow me to kidnap Jaś?

Beautiful, right?

White chamois leather.

They get dirty quickly.

And too expensive. I have a family to support.

Don't be so practical.

Poproszę 30 par.

And what do you think?

I'll take three bottles.

Four. Or five.

- That too. - Hurry up, Fryc.

And that.

No, Fritz!

Great, right?

What is this?

Don't you know?

NO.

Me neither.

But I have to have it.

5 Rue Tronchet.

The violets are already here!

Attention!

Get a move on, you idiot! Is life unpleasant for you?

This is a better Liszt than you.

- Sorry. - It wasn't that bad.

- Very funny. - That was great.

- Why are you so sad? - Me?

I admire you.

It must be terribly tiring.

- What? - It's constant pretending.

You would rather have peace and quiet, wouldn't you?

Please forgive me.

Silence!

If you'll excuse me, the fun is over.

Frederick asked that the state not be detained.

So I don't stop.

We can finally talk calmly.

Would you like a drink?

The sun shines all year round in Mallorca.

Oranges can be picked from a tree like apples.

This will be the most beautiful winter of your life.

I'm going to die again.

NO.

You will recover, you will see.

You smell all like violets.

You were right.

Adam and Eve reached paradise.

We will look for an apple tree and a snake.

Can we sail to Africa?

We may not even come back from it.

- Are you missing something? - Money.

You can write anywhere and send your songs to publishers.

I need an instrument.

He'll be here any day now.

I earn money mainly by giving lessons

and at parties.

I see.

What do you understand?

You can't live without Paris.

Without beloved concerts, without an audience,

who can't concentrate on music for more than a minute...

but applaud as long as the press calls you a genius.

You're right.

It would be a shame to lose it.

We're coming back.

All right.

To hell with Paris.

- The hell with Paris? - Fuck Paris.

- Fuck Paris? - Fuck Paris!

Pan Chopin?

Not?

On behalf of Her Majesty the Queen of Spain

and the City Council please leave our city.

This show?

These are the regulations we have.

I was informed that Mr. Chopin has tuberculosis.

In Spain, tuberculosis is treated like a plague.

This is a threat to the community. Please leave the city.

Do you understand?

- What is he saying? - They want to throw us out of here.

You can live five miles from any population center, no closer.

Have a nice day.

This is some bullshit.

Tuberculosis is a hereditary disease!

Morons!

Do you know what that means?

It's not contagious!

Stop it!

Stop it!

Thank you.

We have the key! It's an abandoned monastery,

but we have a place to stay.

We will be alone, you and me.

And probably a few confessionals.

I'm all wet.

How quiet.

How quiet!

What a story.

I would like to die in your arms.

I promise.

I love you.

Eventually it will stop raining and you will be fine.

I like it when it rains and it's cold.

You're somewhere else. What's the matter?

Everything is fine.

Frederick...

I can't live without gaming.

You're feeling sorry for yourself.

This way.

This way.

For God's sake, be careful.

Carefully!

Slowly.

Carefully.

It won't work.

- They refused. - We'll pay whatever they want.

I told them.

He has to leave here.

Come up with something.

Please.

They arrived.

Honey, it will be over soon.

Mr. Captain...

- Is this the infected one? - He has bronchitis.

This is Fryderyk Chopin.

So what?

I will pay 500 francs.

Per person.

No! Sit down!

I'm suffocating.

I shouldn't be here.

I should never have existed.

You should leave me and live.

I'm losing.

You left your keys!

Sorry,

I think I left my heart with you.

Sorry, I fried them with eggs.

Take your medicine and drink plenty of water.

Of course.

Pan Chopin?

Sir! Mr. Matuszyński is asking for you.

We have to hurry.

It's your fault. You infected him.

And mine for letting him live with you.

I was always alone here.

He was always there whenever you had a problem.

Cough, diarrhea

or when you couldn't iron your shirt.

We couldn't go on vacation.

You stole my family. Children I will never have.

Because Frederick required care.

Because who would carry him up the stairs?

He got nothing from you, only tuberculosis.

Nobody gets anything from you.

Only death.

Good morning. My name is Carl Filtsch.

I want to become your student.

Great,

but I don't teach children.

From Mr. Liszt.

"Better kill him on the spot.

He plays so that in 10 years

We'll both be out of work."

I have no available dates.

What about you, do you want to sing?

This is my brother, Joseph. He doesn't speak, but he hears.

Sorry.

NO!

Don't show off.

Do you want to start learning with my compositions?

Play something else.

I don't have the sheet music.

Can't you play anything?

Not so good.

Not so good...

Pity.

It's hard.

That's all.

Can I play my song?

Please.

Enough.

Have you been playing for a long time?

All right.

Let's try...

to.

The left one is fine. But the right one is played mechanically instead of singing.

The metronome is for the left hand. It builds the foundation.

The right one moves freely.

Once again.

That's not it.

Either you play like a slot machine or you lose control.

Try to divide your attention.

The left constans, the right tells.

Sorry, I'll practice more.

Don't play the keyboard.

Play in your head.

Try not to hear. Like Beethoven.

Imagination is better than execution.

Peace of mind.

Only the head works.

Close your eyes.

That's right, Carl!

Thank you.

You need to eat more.

Not.

Does it bother you that they eat with us?

Why? We waste a lot of food anyway.

Could you be quieter?

He's here because we have a lesson today.

Like every day.

- Is that a problem? - No.

Why?

I asked: do not smoke at the table.

Sorry.

Bravo. Great as always.

I would like to introduce to Your Highness

an extraordinary pianist and composer.

No one in the world plays like that.

Except me.

- Why not? - Thank you.

Go ahead.

I didn't know you had a son.

He's not my son, he's my student.

Carl Filtsch from Transylvania.

He could be a son. He has talent.

He's better than me.

I never thought I'd say that about anyone.

Your Highness,

please remember him.

Even when I'm gone.

It won't be?

Where are you going?

Apparently the people want to overthrow me,

even though I shamelessly suck up to him.

You hear that terrible Marseillaise.

I allowed her to sing in my palace!

I'll probably have to run away too.

I will leave, like your master.

Or they'll kill me.

Then all of Paris will be yours, boy.

- The Prince de la Baume has arrived. - Let's go, my dear.

Where are you going?

I smell like violets today.

Do you remember?

George...

You know there will be a revolution.

They'll wipe us out. You understand.

I don't care about the revolution.

I'm tired.

Get some rest. I have plenty of time.

For me alone you have no strength.

I am disgusted with myself for saying this.

I am pathetic.

I just need closeness.

I haven't been a man for a long time.

- You knew this would happen. - You can love without penetration.

It's not about the body.

You don't want me.

I'm just supposed to be a mother to Carl.

Stop!

Over the years I have come to terms with this,

that the most important thing for you is...

your illness and music.

I've learned to lose to both.

Should I lose to the boy too?

Losing?

- This isn't a competition. - You keep faking everything.

There is nothing real about you.

You pretend you're not afraid of death.

But see for yourself, you're already dead.

You're just pretending to be alive.

You're right.

I'm hurting you.

I don't love you.

I have never loved.

It seemed to me.

It was an illusion.

This is my curse.

Forgive me.

I forgive you.

And thank you.

I will have a beautiful memory...

my love for you.

I feel sorry for you.

I love this song.

- What's going on? - I came out with a wet head.

Now play it, smartass.

They say you will die soon.

And that Liszt is more talented than me.

Don't believe everything people say.

I don't want you to die.

You need sunshine and more sleep.

And please take your medication.

That's all.

You said the same thing a few years ago.

With all due respect, Professor,

are there any new methods?

With all due respect, master, I will be in Paris in seven months.

If you don't change your lifestyle, I will visit you at the cemetery.

Have you heard of heat therapy?

Christ.

Pan...

such a cultured man believes in such superstitions?

Do you know you can die from this?

I heard it helps.

You sweat out the disease. It cleanses the body.

The Lord prescribes the sun for me.

I don't know if it makes much difference.

I know you're afraid.

Sorry.

Sir! There's a queue here!

It hurts because you don't believe it.

I believe.

You sick people never believe,

but you come.

I get it. Doctors are constantly deceiving you.

And there is no magic or fraud here.

Disease miasms, forming pus in the body,

they will rush to this place as to a host.

They will run from your lungs to this wound.

Then...

Sorry.

We'll take out the string,

we will disinfect the wound

and you will be young, beautiful and healthy again.

The human body is a very simple mechanism.

Thank you.

There will be hundreds of people there that you despise.

They pay 50 francs per ticket.

I need to have it for America.

We will buy a wooden house there.

Large, with a large garden.

Carl and Joseph will take the top and I will take the bottom.

With a garden?

America is the future.

Two more concerts and they won't see me here again.

We leave after Carlo returns from Venice.

- Are you sure? - Yes.

I am.

Tuberculosis is not contagious, you know.

Don't blame yourself.

Come.

Frederick!

You could open when someone knocks!

I know I can't help you.

But you don't have to play today.

Lots of people?

Yes. Overbooked.

I'll play for you so they don't get mad.

You'll repay me someday.

They will understand.

I want to play.

Don't feel sorry for me.

I don't need this.

It's just acting.

Just playing.

We are here.

Thank you.

Have a nice day.

Master...

Good morning.

It's me, Jane Stirling. Your student.

I'd like to take some lessons. I've forgotten everything.

I have to refuse.

I don't teach anymore.

You stopped going to parties.

I'm very busy.

You don't give concerts, you don't teach...

I have money. I'll take care of you.

The whole world adores you. It's no wonder I do too.

But I love you more than anyone else.

For years.

More than anyone.

That's why I'm asking you to become my husband.

- Please don't talk nonsense. - I love you.

I'll take care of you.

Mercy...

this is the cruelest thing that can be given to a human being.

It's not pity, it's love.

- You are everything I dream of... - I'm not talking about you.

I'm talking about myself.

Goodbye.

So what?

I've been writing this for two months. What do you think?

Bad?

Fryc,

excellent.

What form is this?

None, and several at once. Sonata, polonaise...

Polish?

This is more of a fantasy.

Well, yes.

Maybe someday, in a hundred years...

people will understand this music.

But today they will say that this is not music.

That there are no themes, there is no form.

A polonaise, you say. No one will notice him in this.

Friend, since you write such things,

Can't you compose a few simple waltzes?

You would play them in small salons and make money from it.

I don't want it like this anymore.

So what will you live on?

I don't want to waste time.

I finally understood.

I don't read books, I don't buy newspapers,

I don't want to go out.

I don't have to simper, smile insincerely, or suck up anymore,

talk nonsense,

pretend that I care what they say to me and about me.

I will die soon.

And I finally feel free.

I feel good.

I compose as I want and I like what I create.

First time.

I want to finish this piece and one or two more.

As long as I have time.

Nothing more.

I see.

I'll see you at your funeral.

I remember...

when I was little,

I was running in the garden with my sister.

As usual, I started coughing.

I stopped for a moment.

Mom goes out onto the porch

and carries herbs. I don't like them, but...

I don't like them, but I drink them.

And I see sadness in her eyes.

I don't understand it. I just don't have the strength to run.

I enter the house,

I sit down at the piano and start playing.

And while playing, I run again.

I jump, I laugh.

I'm having fun...

and I don't cough.

You know that no one will ever play your music the way you want it to.

Go now.

Rejoice, my friend!

It's a new world. Without a king,

bourgeoisie, aristocracy. End of poverty. Long live freedom!