All language subtitles for The.Death.of.Stalin.2017.WEB-DL.x264-FGT

Subtitles by explosiveskull

(PIANO CONCERTO NO. 23
IN A MAJOR PLAYING)

(TELEPHONE RINGS)

Radio Moscow.
Director Andreyev. What is it?

Seventeen minutes.

Yes, of course I can ring back
in 17 minutes.

Yeah.

Mm-hm.
Yes, I'm writing it down.

(MOUTHING)
I can't get the...

One, five...

Sorry? Was that a nine, as in "fine"?

Or... or another five as in, um...

- "Hive."
- ..."hive"?

Hello? Hello?

- Hive?
- Who was it?

The Secretariat
of the General Secretariat.

Of the General Secretary.
The Secretary of the General...

Stalin?

- (MUSIC VOLUME INCREASES)
- Turn that down.

(VOLUME DECREASES)

Put that apple down.

You're always eating bloody apples.

I'm to call him back
in 17 minutes.

Seventeen minutes from when
you picked up the phone

or from when you put it down?

Seventeen minutes from when I said
I'd call back in 17 minutes.

- When was that?
- I don't know.

Thirty seconds ago?

- A minute?
- Well, which one?

- A minute.
- A minute?

A minute.

- You sure?
- No.

(MUSIC PLAYS)

Well, well, well.

Oh, I put Shteyman
on the list, the writer.

- I know you like his work, but...
- No, leave him on.

And, uh... Shteyman two, his wife?

On.

They're a couple, ain't they?

We're talking about Stalingrad,
how cold it was,

and we would do anything,
anything, to warm ourselves up.

We'd throw live grenades
to each other.

We'd pull the pin,
throw it to the prisoners.

(CHUCKLES) They'd be jumping around
like drunken whores. "Oh, oh, oh!"

- (CHUCKLES)
- What was the grenade?

- A grenade.
- Georgy.

- A grenade... what do you...
- No no no.

You're obstructing the story.
Let him tell it.

MAN:
So, ten past, the call came in.

- Seventeen minutes...
- So call back 10:27?

- Yeah.
- You don't seem confident.

Well, I wasn't the one
on the phone.

And it was definitely a nine,
wasn't it?

- I wasn't the one on the phone.
- You keep saying that.

- It's not helping.
- I wasn't, though. So...

A grenade in his mouth!

(GABBLES)

- Always cracks me up, this one.
- KHRUSHCHEV: And then boom!

I'll have these dispatched.

That's how you turn a Prussian
into a bowl of soup.

Oh, there he goes.

Yes, we see your list, Beria.

Shoot her before him,
but make sure he sees it.

Oh, and this one... um...

Kill him, take him to his church,
dump him in the pulpit.

And I'll leave the rest
up to you.

- (ENGINES START)
- Let's go!

First three names on list.
Top name, apartment 15. Go.

- (GUNSHOT)
- Go, go.

(SHOUTING)

(WAILING)

(MAN CRIES IN RUSSIAN)

(URGENT EXCHANGE IN RUSSIAN)

(MAN PROTESTS)

OFFICER: Come on. Where are you going?
Get round here. Get on the bus.

Comrade, it's the greatest honour.

(SIGHS) He can't see me bow.

- Comrade Director.
- Oh, shit.

Five... nine.

(MUSIC CONCLUDES)

(APPLAUSE)

Hello.

This is Stalin.

- (APPLAUSE CONTINUES)
- MAN IN AUDIENCE: Bravo!

Sorry. It's really noisy.
I'm sorry about that.

How are you?
How is it wherever you are?

Sorry. Sorry again.

- Are you there?
- Receiving you.

I want a recording
of tonight's performance.

I'll send someone to pick it up.

I think you split
a couple of notes.

You cheeky bugger. I did not.

- How was it? Was it good?
- I thought wonderful.

Was the concerto recorded?

Was it recorded? Please say yes.

- Erm... no. It went out live.
- Stay. Stay.

Okay, nobody leave! Nobody leave!
Lock the doors! Lock those doors!

If you wouldn't mind
just taking your seats again.

That would be fantastic.

Take your seats.
Take your fucking seats.

Don't worry, nobody's
gonna get killed, I promise you.

This is just
a musical emergency.

Take your seats. That's it.

Nobody be alarmed. It's fine.

Sit down! Do not defy me!

Sit your arses down!

(CHUCKLING)

- Top me up. Everybody drinks.
- (POUNDS TABLE)

KHRUSHCHEV: As I was saying,
we had this 12-year-old scout.

His whole family
was wiped out by the Krauts.

But before that he taught us
this trick. He taught us this trick.

He taught us this trick.
If you stick somebody's little finger

in a glass of water
while they're sleeping,

they wet themselves.

(LAUGHTER)

Here, what next?

You stick a bar of chocolate

in their pocket,
they shit their pants?

(LAUGHTER)

But it's biology, Chief.
We did it to Polnikov in Stalingrad.

But, anyway,
"shit your pants", that's great.

Whatever became of Polnikov?

(LAUGHTER DIES)

You wanna know
where fucking Polnikov is?

You wanna go there?

I love that grenade story.

- Oh, is there one in your pocket?
- No, no, come on. No, not again!

No, don't you...

God damn it!

Caught red-handed. (LAUGHS)

Well, I would die for the Motherland!

(LAUGHTER AND ENCOURAGEMENT)

(CHANTING) Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Take this, you bastards!

All right, let's get going.

Time for a cowboy movie.
Who's in my posse?

(FILM SCORE PLAYS)

Here we go. He rides out,
he gets shot off his horse.

- Adios.
- (SHOUTING AND GUNSHOTS IN THE FILM)

Thank you very much.
It's gonna be okay.

Sit where you sat before.

Right, what do you think?

Well, half the audience have gone.
The acoustic will be very lively.

Go and get some more people
in off the street.

Fat ones, so we don't need as many.

Really? How fat?

I could get my wife.
She'd deaden the acoustic.

Comrades...
Comrades, shut up!

I have wonderful news.

Comrade Stalin
loved tonight's concerto

and would like
a recording of it right away,

which we don't have, for reasons
that are myriad and complex and...

But meanwhile the concerto
we just played will be played again.

And this time we will record it
and we will applaud it.

Yes. Yes.

Brilliant. Okay.

Excuse me.

I won't do it.

Come on, through here.
In you come.

Sit down. Sit down.

You, Joan of Arc,
do you want to get killed?

Like my father got killed,
my brother? Like that?

- But they would want you to live.
- I won't do it. You can't force me.

- Can't we just get another pianist?
- That would be ridiculous.

The sound would be
completely different.

- Even Stalin could...
- Even?

- I didn't mean...
- Even Stalin?

I hope this office isn't bugged.

Of course Comrade Stalin would
be able to tell the difference.

He's a great man with a great ear.

- Two great ears.
- Sharp. They're sharp.

- The sharpest ears in the...
- In the Soviet Union.

Maria Veniaminovna,
you have to play.

I didn't...
I didn't mean what I said.

So you said it, then?

As God is my witness, I won't do it.
The Lord will see me through.

10,000 roubles.

20,000.

Done. Let's go.

(CONDUCTOR GASPS AND PANTS)

Ohh!

What the fuck?

What fucking brainless fire-safety
fucking idiot put that there?

Now we need a new conductor.
Let's go.

Which one's your father in?

Thank you. You've been very helpful.
Follow me.

Open up!

Let's get these on the bus.

Keep it moving!
We've still got things to do!

Come on, move!

(WOMAN CRIES IN RUSSIAN)

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

(KNOCKING PERSISTS)

I love you. I love you.

Now, you say whatever
you have to say to them. You say it.

Oh, God.

Hello. Hi.

Deepest apologies, sir.

Radio Moscow requests your
presence immediately, please.

You're Moscow's finest and nearest
conductor, so... we must hurry.

(LAUGHTER)

BERIA: I rather enjoyed your reference
to Polnikov this evening.

Stalin looked like he was
gonna split your head open.

"What became of Polnikov and
Trotsky? I was a huge fan of his."

"I miss the Tsar."

I'm exhausted. I can't remember
who's alive and who isn't.

Georgy, when you go home,
make sure your wife writes down

everything you think
you said tonight.

All right, this way in the morning
you know what you're dealing with.

That's Khrushchev's Law.

Good night, comrades. Long live
the Communist Party of Lenin-Stalin.

Long live John Wayne
and John Ford.

(LAUGHS)

Goodbye, Molotov, old friend.

Goodbye forever.

Yeah. On the list.

It would be simpler and cheaper

if they just drove
straight into a river.

Sweet dreams.

Good night.

Night.

(ORCHESTRA TUNES UP)

People in off the streets.

Just this way.

I don't think any of these people
have ever heard of Mozart.

(CLAPPING)

KHRUSHCHEV:
I made a joke about the farmers.

- Did Stalin laugh?
- Yeah.

I made a joke about the navy.

- No laugh.
- No more navy jokes.

Good evening.

Get this lot checked in.

Good. Nice.

- MAN: Long live Stalin!
- (GUNSHOT)

- MAN: Long live Stalin!
- (GUNSHOT)

- (MUSIC ENDS)
- (APPLAUSE)

- Shouldn't we check it?
- No time.

If it's not okay, then Stalin's men
will chop you into dog meat.

Thank you.

Move, move, move, move, move.
Excuse me. Thank you.

I have it. I have it.

I have the recording. I just had to
get a new sleeve, a white one.

The delay has been logged.

I wish to convey a special
message from my heart.

I wish to convey this recording
to Comrade Stalin.

I want Comrade Stalin to know

the full intensity
of my feelings for him.

No, this is unauthorised narcissism.

No.

The item is now in my possession...
after a significant delay.

Note the time.

What took you so long?
You fucking walk here?

(NEEDLE CRACKLES ON RECORD)

(RECORD JUMPS)

(GRUNTS)

MARIA:
Josef Vissarionovich Stalin,

you have betrayed our nation
and destroyed its people.

I pray for your end,
and ask the Lord to forgive you.

Tyrant.

(LAUGHS)

(GASPS AND CHOKES)

Oh, fuck. Fuck...

(HEAVY THUD)

Should we investigate?

Should you shut the fuck up
before you get us both killed?

(MUSIC CONTINUES PLAYING)

(STALIN GROANS SOFTLY)

Good morning.

Well?

Comrade Stalin?

Comrade Stalin?

(PRISONER GROANS AND GRUNTS)

I just need some names.

Each name you give me
is one less bit of you I'll cut off.

- (KNOCK AT DOOR)
- Enter.

Sorry to interrupt, Comrade Minister.
It's Comrade Stalin.

Oh, don't worry about him.
Those ears are full of blood anyway.

Comrade Stalin is very ill.

Very ill?

Yes.

Uh-huh.

- You, carry on.
- Of course.

(PRISONER COUGHS)

Tell them Beria is on his way.

They are to touch nothing,
call no-one. Understood?

Tell me you understand
my instructions.

I understand your instructions.

Good.

- (PRISONER COUGHS AND SPLUTTERS)
- GUARD: Shh, shh.

What's your name, Lieutenant?

S-Slimonov, sir.

(IMITATES STUTTERING)
S-Slimonov?

Be here when I g-get back.

- MAN: Long live Stalin!
- (GUNSHOT)

- Abramovsky still holding out?
- Yeah. He's close, though.

He was close yesterday.

- MAN: Long live Stalin!
- (GUNSHOT)

Have his wife move into the next cell

and start working
on her until he talks.

Make it noisy.

Shame. Mrs Abramovsky's been
most cooperative so far.

Some women will do anything
to get their husbands released.

Yeah, and she did everything.

I thank the Union for bringing me
so many devoted wives

who fuck like sewing machines.

Glasses.

(CHUCKLES)

To his dacha. Urgently.

MRS. KHRUSHCHEV:
Tanks, farmers, navy,

grenade: funny.

Beria, tomato, pocket: funny. Horse...

- Funny?
- ...slippers: question mark.

- Farmers, horse again, navy...
- There were no whores.

What are you writing?
Oh, "horse". Is this in code?

This is your drunken nonsense,
not mine. Don't blame my notes.

"Molotov C-H-H-H..."

Was I stuttering? What is that?

Molotov... (HAWKS)

Oh. It's Molotov...
(MIMICS SLICING SOUND)

- He's on the list.
- Poor Molotov.

First his wife, now him.

- Georgy is off in a hurry somewhere.
- (TELEPHONE RINGS)

Something's happening.

Hello?

What?

Get my trousers.

Just get my... No, not you.

Who's there? Is Beria there?

Never mind. I'll be right there.

Your trousers. Your trousers.
Here are your trousers.

- Okay, okay.
- Let me take your pyjamas.

No, there's no time. Get my
shoes, please, Nina, my shoes.

- Your shirt.
- Send me a shirt and tie.

(DOG BARKS IN DISTANCE)

Were you on duty
when he was found?

- Yes, sir.
- No-one is to come in. Understood?

Yes, sir.

Remain at your stations.

Oh, God.

They told me
not to get a doctor.

You did well, Matryona Petrovna.

The Central Committee
will handle things now.

- So they'll get a doctor?
- There are procedures in place.

- So you'll get a doctor?
- I am the doctor.

I'll see to everything. Come on.

Go on. He'll be fine.

(DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES)

Smells like a Baku pisshouse in here.

Greetings, by the way.

Oh, shit.

Uh-huh.

(HE GRUNTS)

Oh, come on. Fuck!

(RAPS ON WINDOW)
Khrustalyov! Khrustalyov!

(RATTLES THE WINDOW)

- Take the papers.
- Let them go.

Take the papers or I'll cut
your eyes out one at a time

so you can watch it happening!

- Drop it.
- Take them!

(DROPS THE KEYS)

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

- (INSISTENT KNOCKING)
- Come in.

Oh, my God.

Is this...
I'm guessing that this is...

Yeah, he's feeling unwell, clearly.

He's irreplaceable.

(HE SOBS)

How can we possibly...

All right, we must
think of the people.

(SIGHS AND CLEARS THROAT)

As Acting General Secretary,
I must step up.

I must... I must take his place
while he's... on the floor.

But you just said
he's irreplaceable.

Irreplaceable. Take his place as in

assembling the Central Committee,
of course.

Good. I was testing you.
Get used to that sort of challenge.

So, what next, boss?

We should...
We should get a doctor.

Yeah...

Yes. If only we hadn't...

put away all those highly
competent doctors for treason.

- You remember?
- Yes, I do. I do.

You know,
they were plotting to poison him.

Yes, that's right.
You collected the evidence.

Yes, I did. I did.
Are you still testing me?

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Oh, this is calamity!

Calamity!

Ah! Ohh...

Oh. (WINCES)

Oh-oh-oh, no!

Oh, he's on the floor.
He's on the fucking floor!

GEORGY:
Okay, be careful, careful.

Oh, what to do? Oh, what to do?

My heart, it feels sick...

like it's going into battle.

(SOBS)

(SOBS CONTINUE)

Which doctor have you called?

Well, the subject's currently
under discussion.

As Acting General Secretary,

I think that, well,
the Committee should decide.

The Committee?

But our actual General Secretary
is lying in a puddle of indignity.

I mean, I think he's saying,
"Get me a doctor now."

No, I don't agree. I think
we should wait until we're quorate.

Quorate? The room
is only 75 percent conscious!

- Are you wearing pyjamas?
- Yeah. So?

- Why?
- Because I act, Lavrenti.

Decisively and with great speed.

I said you'd be tested

and now you're being tested
by a shouting man in pyjamas.

Have you got a nappy
under those too? Too late for him.

(DOOR BANGS OPEN)
Out of my way, you fannies.

Shit.

(IN SLOW MOTION):
Where's the big fella?

Are we late?

Sorry.

He can't go, not like this.

- Careful. Careful.
- Whoa, whoa.

It's wet.

- So, was Beria here first?
- Yeah, what do you think?

This can't be happening.
This can't be fucking...

No, that's wet. For God's sake.

You got here quick, comrade.

I didn't stop to put on cologne.

Hey, watch the suit. Watch the suit.

Compelling drama, gentlemen,
but we do need to get him into bed.

- You take the head.
- Why?

- You're Acting General Secretary.
- I would be honoured.

It's just me here
kneeling in the piss, yeah?

- Why don't you...
- But, there's piss...

- Come on.
- It is better. It's more balanced.

Yeah? Well, you can pay
my laundry bill, then.

You're not auditioning
for the Bolshoi.

- Who are you, Nijinsky? Come on.
- I have a bad back.

Too much social climbing, I expect.

- The head is the heaviest part.
- All right, ready?

- Three, two...
- Two.

One.

- Lift. Jesus.
- (STRAINING AND GRUNTING)

- God.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

- To me.
- Turn, turn, turn.

- This way. There we go.
- Yeah, all right.

Are you wearing pyjamas?

Can we just stop twittering

like fishwives at the market
and concentrate?

- Whoa, whoa, whoa.
- Open the door. Back up, back up.

No, no, that way.

Go. Right, go.

- Get back to the kitchen now!
- Move!

- Move!
- Now. Now.

BULGANIN:
He's heavier than I thought he'd be.

- Do you think Stalin's too heavy?
- No, it's a compliment.

- Gold is heavy.
- Well, you'd know.

You've looted enough of it,
you saucy little pirate.

Get back in the dining room!

- Right, this one. This way, this way.
- Stop using his feet.

- I'm sorry.
- Can we just put him down?

- I'm absolutely soaked.
- Lamp. Lamp, lamp.

- Out of the way.
- No, wait a minute... move, move.

Mikoyan,
move out of the way, quickly.

- I can't, I can't.
- Fucking hell!

- Fuck. Jesus Christ!
- Turn him over.

Fuck me! Three fittings
I had for this suit. Three.

(ALL PANTING)

He looks ready now.

- I need a vodka.
- I need a wash.

But we didn't drop him.
Well done, us.

Oh, I still got fucking tomato
in my pocket.

It's still funny.

All right, comrades,
now that we're quorate,

I propose we call a doctor.

All the best doctors
are in the gulag, or dead.

Yes, yes, because they tried
to kill the boss.

So any doctor still in Moscow
is not a good doctor.

What are people's thoughts
on getting a bad doctor?

What the fuck are you
talking about? That's mad.

What if he recovers
and finds out?

Well, if he recovers,
then we got a good doctor,

and if he doesn't recover,
then we didn't, but he won't know.

What was the name of the...

that woman who gave evidence
against the doctors?

- Timashuk.
- Yes.

She's got everything
we require for the situation.

The location of all the remaining
doctors in the Moscow area,

a proven desire to survive
and a talent for fellatio.

Yeah, right, she gets my vote.

Good. Let her find us
some doctors.

Yeah, and if it goes badly,
we pin it all on Lady Suck Suck.

- Then we shoot her.
- Yes, that would work.

You see? We're better as a committee.
(SIGHS)

Let's go.

You have a nice long sleep, old man.

I'll take it from here.

TIMASHUK: That's him.
That's him there. There.

(MAN PANTING)

Please, I've done nothing wrong.

Take the stethoscope.

Comrade Timashuk,
I retired six years ago.

- Get that coat on him.
- Please, I...

Look, (STUTTERS)
I can give you names.

- Come on. Stop resisting.
- What about my dog?

- This is appalling.
- Hurry up.

Get him in the van.

We found some old friends of yours.

DOCTOR: I've never met them
before in my life.

KAGANOVICH:
So, Molotov's off the list.

KHRUSHCHEV:
Yes, Beria's moving fast.

But we can still outvote him.

I always thought it would be you,
to fill Stalin's shoes, if I'm honest.

Not Malenkov.

Who knows the future
of the Union?

Well, the Union
could really use change.

Maybe some reforms
now that the old man...

No, Nicky.

Nobody needs factionalism.

You want factionalism?

What about those two, fucking
Abbott and Costello over there?

Christ.

When I piss, I try to make
eye contact with an officer.

Ruins their day.

When I piss, I try to piss
on an officer. Also ruins their day.

We should keep an eye
on Kaganovich.

Yeah, Khrushchev too,
his talking goat.

Khrushchev. I spend my life
making people talk.

I can't shut that gabbling idiot up.

We need to assert our authority,
increase security in Moscow.

We should get
Stalin's children here.

Vasily will be lying face down
in a ditch full of vodka.

- But Svetlana...
- The people love her.

- I'm gonna get her in.
- Comrade ministers!

- Svetlana is here!
- I'm here. I'm over here!

- Svetlana!
- Svetlana!

Shit. The race has started.

All right, we need to start putting
together a plan. We need change.

Put a halt to the arrests,
prison releases,

maybe even reform the Church.

How can you run and plot
at the same time?

Hello! Svetlana!

- They're trying to cut you off.
- Where?

It's obvious. Svetlana!

- Svetlana!
- Svetlana!

- Oh, my darling.
- Where is he?

- Where's my father? I would like...
- Oh, my dear.

- I'm so sorry.
- I would like to see him.

- Yes, of course.
- Where is he?

- (EVERYONE TALKING)
- We'll take you inside. He's in bed.

God Almighty!
Look at that herb garden.

Does nobody tend it any more?

Do people no longer
eat herbs any more?

Do they only eat weeds?

- Come on, we'll take you to see him.
- Where is Vasily?

- I will get your brother here.
- Most helpful.

- All right.
- She wants Vasily.

If Vasily is coming, granted,
we should probably have tea and buns.

- We'll get some buns and some tea.
- Soak up the vodka.

What?

I saw you and Big Boy
out in the woods earlier.

- Yeah.
- There's bears in there.

You'd better watch your step, son.

- Well, there's bears in here too.
- Hm?

Come on, play! Play better!

Urgh!

Oh, Jesus.

When we play Hungary,
are we allowed to use guns?

These are the best
I could find since the plane crash.

What plane crash?
There was never a plane crash.

Was there a plane crash?
Soviet planes do not crash.

And Stalin's son
does not fuck up.

Christ!

We have Bobrov.
He wasn't on the plane.

What plane?

Bobrov!

- Go on. Hit it.
- No!

He's terrified, practically leaving
a trail of yellow ice!

You're the coach. Coach them so
they're as good as the dead team was.

- Or I'll have you killed, okay?
- Apologies. And agreed.

Or I'll just do it myself.

Come on! Play on!

Play through! Ignore me!

Get it. Give it. Hit it.

Vasily.

Play better, you clattering fannies!

Come.

Oh, fuck!
Do they know about the crash?

Give me a drink. I've got time
for a drink. Give me the flask.

(OFFICER SOFTLY)
No, no.

You are to come
to your father's dacha.

The plane should never have taken off.

Do you suppose
that just because I am who I am

that I can predict an ice storm?

Ice storm? Are you saying something's
happened to our national team?

- Nothing's happened.
- What the fuck are you doing?

My father will have you saddled
and ridden to Siberia,

you rude fucking pies.

KHRUSHCHEV: These are good doctors,
my dear. They're the best.

They look like mental patients.

Are they going to sing for us?
Why are they standing in a line?

Let's have it.

Following a group assessment
of Comrade Stalin,

we've arrived
at the unanimous conclusion,

based on a collective finding...

Please put him out of his misery.

Comrade Stalin has had
a cerebral haemorrhage.

The right side of his body
is paralysed.

SVETLANA:
Oh, God.

(SIGHS)
What is the chance of recovery?

It is hard to say.

Relax. I'm not gonna kiss you.
Will he recover, yes or no?

(WHISPERS)
No.

- No?
- No.

It's over.

It's over!

I want a second opinion.
I don't trust these creatures to...

- I mean, how old are you?
- I'm 29.

That's a lie. How old are you?

You look dead.

I know people in Stalingrad.
I know people in Moscow.

No, no, no. We have all the doctors.
There is no other opinion.

- Oh, God.
- And so it begins.

Oh, God! (SOBS)

I cry for Stalin.
I cry for all the people.

- I cry for the...
- Courage.

Courage, little bird.
We're here for you.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Most of all, we cry for you,

little... bird.

We offer our tears,
though not as a gift, of course.

Oh, God.

I want Moscow cauterised, now.

Cut off the city.

- Moscow's closed. No-one gets in.
- Especially you.

NKVD to displace army officers
at every station.

Army back to barracks.
We're taking over.

Remove Molotov from that last list.

Implement our lists.

New lists.

New lists.

Ladies and gentlemen,
reset your watches.

- New lists.
- New lists.

- New lists.
- New lists.

- New lists.
- (GUNSHOT)

Trophy hunting, comrade?

Oh, Svetlana. No, no. I was...

We were just about to make a toast
to your father's health

and I know he kept
some fine vodka here somewhere.

Well, better you find it
than my brother.

Ah, yes. Vasily.

I got a hold of him
and he's on his way.

- Oh...
- Svetlana, I wanted to...

There was one day when my brother
just rode a pig through here.

- That must have been messy.
- It was terribly messy.

(LAUGHS)
And my father was so cross.

Papa just chased him
around the room in a circle.

Right here around this sofa,
just there, look.

Yes, I wanted to let you know
that no matter what happens,

I will never ever let any harm
come to you or your brother.

- Who said anything about harm?
- No, that's what I'm saying.

You know somebody
wants to harm us?

- Tell me. I demand to know.
- If someone...

No. I should not have used
the word "harm".

Yes. But you keep mentioning
the word "harm". Why?

If anyone tries to... you,
they'll have to get through me first.

(LAUGHS WHEEZILY)

My father's going to die.

I'm going to have you
to look after me.

I mean, I may as well
just shoot myself like Mother.

- Svetlana, we need to be strong.
- Who would put a lamp on a chair?

(SHE SIGHS)

We need to be strong
and never afraid.

- I wasn't afraid. Now I am afraid.
- Don't be, because if any harm...

- God, I actually...
- (DOOR OPENS)

can't believe you said that again.

Quick! The boss is back!

- Ohh!
- Come on!

- Papa!
- KAGANOVICH: A miracle.

Stalin is invincible.

The boss has shipped death
back to the salt mine.

What's happening?
This is impossible...

and... and... and wonderful.

- He's pointing...
- What is it, Chief?

Maybe he's appointing his successor.

Do you think?

- No.
- Maybe not.

(GRUNTS)

- What's he...
- It's the painting.

- He's pointing at the painting.
- Hold on. You know what he's saying?

MALENKOV:
He is saying, "I am the lamb."

Huh?

"I am the lamb and you, you,
my children, have given me life."

Yes!

Or the lamb is the people
and the milk is socialism.

Maybe he's the milk.

Maybe you're the tit.

- Maybe he just wants a drink.
- A drink of milk.

- Possible.
- Milk here! Immediately!

- Not milk. Water. Water.
- And not in a horn. In a glass.

(ALL TALKING)

So, Top Boy.

You had your hair
fucking embalmed or something?

I owe it to him and the people.

- There's going to be photos.
- Oh, right.

You're a hero, Comrade Lukomsky.

This sometimes happens and I...

I'm incredibly pleased.

I won't forget it.

SOLDIER:
Comrade.

We've remained at our post
as you ordered.

Might we respectfully
stand down from our position?

Beria...

...he's dead.

(CRIES OF DISMAY)

- Oh, Jesus!
- Fuck my boots!

Oh, my God.

I'm sorry, boss.
I wish I could take it for you.

Thick skull, you know. It's
an incredibly strong, hard skull.

Shut up.

We need to think about the Presidium.

MALENKOV:
Yes, succession. We need to...

Oh, fuck. That's his...

Who organised the Wurlitzer?

- It's a respirator.
- Did you use it?

- No. It's American.
- It's what?

- It's from his hospital.
- It was his idea.

Let's just pretend these last
six sentences never happened.

Because if they ever find out
that we brought in...

What are you doing to my father,
you jackals? Murderers!

- You'll kill him!
- Vasily, your father is dead.

You're dividing the spoils.
Leave his brain alone!

- How old are you?
- I'm old.

You're not old!
You're not even a person!

You're a testicle!
You're made mostly of hair!

- Vasily...
- Here's your fucking harvest.

- Here it is.
- (GUNSHOT)

Leave the man alone! I will not...

No! Don't let him shoot!

- Just get the gun off him.
- SVETLANA: Vasily!

- Let her through.
- Remember what Papa said.

They have a machine
filling his brain with American lies.

"Wade gently through the river

because there are snakes
and crocodiles."

It's okay, Vasily.
Everything's gonna be fine.

- This is not exactly fine, is it?
- No, well, not exactly fine.

My father's lying there
with his head open.

Yes, your father is dead.
Your brother is shooting a gun.

It's not fine. You're right.

Come on. There we go.

You have all made
a deadly mistake.

(SHOUTS OF DISMAY)

- Excuse me.
- That's right. Off you go, kitten.

(SVETLANA COUGHS)

(STRAINING AND GRUNTING)

Oh, come on.

- Just keep the gun away from him.
- I've got loads, anyway.

Have you forgotten
how to salute?

- No, sir.
- Then salute me.

Now, let that be a warning.

SVETLANA:
"Be strong," I hear my father say.

SOLDIER:
Come on, chop, chop.

Beria's picked you out.

Just do as he says.

- My car is right this way.
- No, no. She'll be happier with us.

Okay, but we need to go. Let's go.

- See you in Moscow.
- See you.

Ah, nice.

(HORNS BLARING)

We need to go through first!
No, let us go first!

Go, go, go!

Go!

KHRUSHCHEV: Shit.
What, are we last now? Come on.

(HORN TOOTS)

Comrades, we share your grief.

You will assemble outside
for further instructions.

All staff into the transport.
Yes, that's it, hurry up.

Come on, get a move on.
In the transports, please.

Where the fuck
did she come from? Get her out!

Gently with that, will you?
Hurry up.

That's it, everything out.

(DOCTOR WHIMPERS)

Lookalikes.
I think their contract's up.

This way.

- You, come with me.
- But I don't understand.

Come on. Just this way.

You can stand down.

Food in the kitchen.

- Halt!
- (GUNSHOT)

Move them out!

Last one! Move it out!

(GUNSHOT)

BERIA: Hello again.

There you are.

You're very quiet.

See the little birch in the meadow.

See the leaves dancing
when the wind blows.

No?

Well, come on, your voice was once
so beautiful, Polina Molotova.

Oh, yes, sorry, meant to say.

Stalin's dead.

No. The Stalin?

Our Stalin?

Yeah, your Stalin.

The one who put you here.

Come on.

Let's smarten you up
for Comrade Molotov.

Good girl. Come on.

Oh, sorry, darling. Work.
I'll make it up to you.

Fetch the mattress
and have her washed.

Okay.

Right, get in there. Go on.

Right, with me. Come on.

All right, jug, rug, flowers.
Right, grab that.

- S-Slimonov, isn't it?
- Yes, sir.

See you l-later, S-Slimonov.

Come on.

Bought you a lovely new dress,
a nice dress.

(DOOR SHUTS)

(SIGHS)

(GROANS) Oh, God.

(KNOCKING)

Christ. You look like you're about
to be bulldozed into a lime pit.

Need your toilet.

(RETCHES)

Do you want me to hold back your hair?

Polina always used to do that for me.

Oh, no. Nothing's coming up.

- Futile gesture.
- (GROANS)

Listen, I wanted to invite you
to tomorrow's Committee meeting.

Meeting?

What meeting?
Why didn't I know about a meeting?

(TOILET FLUSHES)

(QUITELY)
Stalin and Beria put you on a list.

Stalin?

Oh, I must have wronged him so badly.
What did I do?

No, nothing. Don't you see?
Beria, he wants you out.

Now, I've been talking
with Comrade Bulganin.

No. No.

I think he's right.
We can outvote them.

No, no. This is factionalism.
Stalin didn't like factionalism.

Oh, Stalin is dead!

I've seen inside of him.
For fuck's sake, we have to act.

(WITH DESPAIR):
I can't believe he's gone.

Ohh...

(SOBS)

(TOILET FAILS TO FLUSH)

You have to wait for it to fill up.

Fucking apartments.

Listen to me.

Beria had Polina killed.

Now, surely you must have wanted to...

Act against the party? Me?

- No?
- No, never.

- Really?
- No.

- Not once?
- Not once.

(DOOR OPENS)
BERIA: Hello? Anyone home?

- BOTH: What are you doing here?
- What are you doing here?

We were just chatting.

About Polina.

- Well, well, would you believe it?
- Treacherous sow.

Or a wronged woman who was framed.

No, no. She was a criminal.

I'm glad she's dead.

Right, because,
well, she betrayed the party.

- She plotted against Stalin.
- No, Nicky. False narrative.

- No, no, she was a parasite.
- She was a parasite.

She betrayed all of us, and, in fact,
the evidence was flimsy.

There were no witnesses.
And look. Polina's back.

- Is it really you?
- (LAUGHTER)

Oh, my Polina.
Oh, I can't believe it.

Oh, look, everyone, look.

- My little Polinka's back.
- I am back.

I kept her safe for you, Vyacheslav.

And I kept him safe for you, Polina.

- I've got so much to tell you.
- Good.

- I've bought a dog...
- Oh?

So many changes to come.

And you're gonna like
some of them, Nicky.

(LAUGHTER IN BACKGROUND)

KHRUSHCHEV:
It's great to have you back.

(HINGES SQUEAK)

Hello, my sweet.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

SOLDIER:
You're the parents?

Thank you. You should go now.

MALENKOV:
We ready?

Good.

Now, please don't go
until I say, okay?

Did you hear me?

Okay.

(CAMERA CLICKS)

Yes? It's good?

I'd like to try one
with a faraway look.

Comrade,

I've scheduled some telephone calls
later with various members of the...

I can't hear you.
Can you say that again?

I'm sorry. I've scheduled
some telephone calls later with...

- Then tell me later.
- Of course.

Mr Karloff, what an honour.
Love your work.

Thinking of doing anything in colour?
(CHUCKLES)

I need to talk to you about something.

Would you please excuse me?

I'll be right back.

(BERIA CHUCKLES)

Don't you ever... ever...

humiliate me again in front of...

I am the General Secretary
of the Soviet Union.

Apologies. A line has been crossed.

It is my duty to look good
for the people.

- Of course.
- Ah, comrade, apologies.

I'm not gonna do the seating plan.
Give it to Blavatsky.

- He's expert at sitting on his arse.
- Of course. Thank you.

- The Committee meeting...
- Oh, yes, yes.

Um, item one:
these lists and these arrests.

I think we...
Should we take that down just a gear?

Or hold off altogether?

- Freeze them?
- Freeze, yes.

Excellent thought.
Yes, we could freeze arrests.

We could even release
some low-level prisoners.

(SIGHS IN RELIEF)
Fuck me. I mean... I mean, yes.

But what would the old man...

Oh, Stalin... Stalin destroyed
the status quo and he built a new one.

The changes he made
were both radical and popular.

- Liberalisation would be radical.
- Popular.

- Radical.
- And popular.

- (DOOR OPENS)
- I will deal with whatever horseshit

you have presently.

- Actually, I'd like you to see this.
- Come on through.

You remember that famous photo
of Stalin and the little girl?

Yes.

Well, I was thinking
a photo of, you and the girl.

Continuity.

And this way we're showing Stalin's
humanity moving forward, right?

Yeah.

I'm sorry about all that.
Find the girl.

- We should head to the Committee.
- We are.

So I'll outline the releases
under Article 31.

- Yes, please.
- Okay.

Please, understand that this
is not some cynical ploy.

I mean, these reforms
are correct reforms.

Totally understood.

Are you wearing a corset?

It's a girdle. I have a bad back.

It's functional. It's not cosmetic.

You wear it well.

Let's make this
a test of your discretion, shall we?

Of course. Of course.

- So, in accordance...
- I call this meeting to order.

My apologies.

So, in accordance with his will,
I propose Comrade Malenkov

be named Chairman
of the Council of Ministers

and General Secretary of the Party.

MALENKOV:
And I propose Comrade Beria

for First Vice-Chairman,
Council of Ministers.

So, let's take a vote.
Those in favour?

Those are two separate proposals.

I suggest we vote one at a time.
Those in favour?

I'm unsure of what's being proposed.

I just said what was being proposed.
I just said it.

And you're being obstructionist.

Comrade Beria is busy
combining his role

as Minister for both
Interior and Security.

Wouldn't it be kinder if someone else

carried the happy burden
of Vice-Chairman?

I thank Comrade Khrushchev
for his concern,

but I'm perfectly capable
of doing two things at once.

- Well, it's three things.
- Should we bring in an abacus?

All right, let's move to a vote
on both proposals.

All right? First me as... you know,

and Comrade Beria as Vice-Chairman.

All those in favour?

Carried...

u... nanimously.

Right, next.

We need someone
to take charge of the funeral.

- What about Comrade Khrushchev?
- Where's this coming from?

I formally propose Comrade Khrushchev

be given the honour
of organising the funeral.

What? Come on,
I don't have any time to do that.

What if I can do three things at once,
you can at least do two.

- (CHUCKLING)
- What do I know about funerals?

You said you wanted
to honour his legacy.

You told me last night
in the bathroom.

- All those in... all those in favour?
- All those in favour?

No, uh...

Well, I think you'd be good,
actually, you know.

(KHRUSHCHEV SIGHS)

Passed unanimously.

Nicky Khrushchev, funeral director.
It suits you.

- Yeah.
- It suits that face, anyway.

(GLASS BEING TAPPED)

- Comrade Beria.
- I propose a halt to deportations,

the release of some existing detainees
under Article 31 and the suspension

of all arrests that were officially
sanctioned three days ago.

Whoa, whoa. That's like wiping
your arse on Stalin's final list.

- No, no, no.
- This is demonstrably revisionist.

Releasing people we arrested three
days ago will make us look cretinous.

Listen, Stalin was misled.

- We were misled.
- Really? (SCOFFS)

Yes. So the people responsible
should be found and punished.

(LAUGHS) Who are you kidding,
Lavrenti, yourself?

We all knew what we were doing
when we signed those lists.

Stalin destroyed the status quo...
and he rebuilt it.

He was liberal.

- Radical.
- He was radical.

This is a blatant attempt
by Comrade Beria

to buy the support of the public.

I thought you were in favour of a more
liberal approach, Comrade Reformer.

All those in favour
of pausing the arrests,

of pausing the executions?

All those in favour?

Hmm. I've always been loyal to Stalin.
Always.

And these arrests
were authorised by Stalin.

But Stalin was also loyal
to the collective leadership,

and that is true loyalty.

However, he also had an iron will,
undeviating, strong.

Should we not do the same
and stick to what we believed in?

No.

It is stronger still
to forge our own beliefs

with the beliefs
of the collective leadership.

Which I have now... done.

Carried... unanimously. Thank you.

I'll oversee the releases.

We have loosened
the Union's great corset.

Nicky, you've some bouquets
and swatches to look at.

A funeral doesn't organise itself.

(GUNSHOT AND THUD)

(GUNSHOT AND THUD)

- Long live Stalin.
- Stalin's dead. Malenkov's in charge.

- Stop shooting.
- Long live Malenk...

- (SHOOTS)
- Amnesty effective immediately.

Orders of Comrade Beria.
We're moving out. Let's go.

Come on, let's go.

Come on.

Ahh...

(CRIES)
Oh, my God!

Ohh! (SOBS)

KHRUSHCHEV: Not too much on that.
He's not Clark Gable, okay?

Can somebody get a duster up there?

We've got a cobweb
large enough to snag a sheep.

We're opening in 15 minutes.

Now, for the curtains
at the front, comrade,

do you want ruched, not ruched?

- Whatever. I don't care.
- Not ruched?

- That's good. That's...
- Ruched? Not ruched?

- Ruched?
- Would you stop with this?

Why do you think I care?
Ah, excuse me.

- Fix that button.
- Welcome, comrades.

How's the Minister
for Fixtures and Fittings?

It's going well. I'm enjoying it.

- Yes, you're very passionate.
- Well...

Yes, the ruched, please. Thank you.

- You're doing a great job.
- I know.

Well, hello. Are these...

- Oh.
- These my...

Which one of these is my girl?

We couldn't find the actual girl, sir.

These are some possible alternatives.

No, no, I want you to find...
Excuse me.

I want you to find
the girl in the photograph.

Do you understand?
The nation depends on it.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

All right, girls, the Snow King
does not approve. Wait over there.

What happened?
Where's the girl in the photograph?

We couldn't find the actual girl.

I thought the entire point of the NKVD
was to know everyone's whereabouts.

- Yes, sir.
- Yes, sir, yes.

- So, you find her, you camel cock.
- Comrade Khrushchev.

- Maria Veniaminovna.
- Yes.

I'm sorry that you heard that,
but he is a camel cock.

- (KISSES) How are you, Maria?
- Stalin?

Yes. You want to have a look?

Comrade Beria, this is Maria.
She'll be playing piano tonight.

- Good to meet you.
- Comrade.

What do you think?

Small. He looks so small.

- Sad day, soldier.
- Yes, sir.

Sad day.

Aslanov. You handsome devil.

Stick you in a frock,
I'd fucking ride you raw myself.

- I will take that as a compliment.
- Yeah, don't.

Right, what's a war hero got to do
to get some lubrication round here?

Ah, Generalissimo.

There he is, eh, the great man.

I've seen a lot of death,
but that... that is a loss.

Tell me something.

Why has the army been replaced
by the NKVD all over Moscow?

(FAKE LAUGHS) I mean, I'm smiling,
but I am very fucking furious.

Perhaps this is a good time
for Comrade Yudina

to go and prepare
those precious fingers.

Yes. One moment, General.

I will properly catch up with you
this evening.

- I'm looking forward to it.
- You never kiss my hand any more.

- I taught Nikita's niece to play.
- Yes, you did.

That was quite the salon recital.

Oh, I love the idea of you at a salon.

Do you have a party trick?
Burping the alphabet?

(FORCED LAUGHTER)

Comrade Malenkov, with sharper
cheekbones, as requested.

Sharp. Not sharp.
Sharp. Not sharp.

I would like...

...that one destroyed, thank you.

Good luck with the performance
tonight, by the way.

- Thank you.
- Nerve-racking, so many notes.

- Yes.
- Like your one to Stalin.

Which I have.

Come this way.

Why has the army
been confined to barracks?

The decision was mine,
supported by Comrade Malenkov.

Mm-hmm. Oh, was it indeed?

That right, Georgy?
It was your call?

Um, yes, of course.
We had to make a decision.

We're discussing the city's security.

- I know.
- Jesus Christ.

Did Coco Chanel
take a shit on your head?

- No, he did not.
- Listen, listen.

Moscow's gonna be boiling with people.

His little fucking apes at the NKVD
won't know what to do.

There's gonna be
thousands of civilians

flooding in from all over Russia.

No, we're controlling
the crowd at source.

All trains and vans to Moscow
have been cancelled.

- You can't do that.
- Wait a minute.

People have a right to see him.

- Oh, come on. No, no, no.
- Just temporarily.

I'm the funeral. I'm the trains.
This is horseshit, okay?

I've been picking out funeral cushions
with Slim Hitler over there...

calico this, taffeta that,
and you've done what?

No, I'm the trains and
I want them back.

Well, let's see who can
mobilise first. Oh, seems to be me!

You sneaky little shit.

(MEZHNIKOV CLEARS HIS THROAT)
And we're opening the doors.

MEZHNIKOV: Good. Steady pace.
Very good. Yes, just like that.

(SOBBING)

(SOBBING)

SVETLANA:
Rather overwhelming, isn't it?

And nobody's making them do this,
are they?

- BERIA: No, no.
- No.

MEZHNIKOV:
Just round to the right. Thank you.

I don't suppose you want a chair?

Oh, no, no, no. I can't sit down.
I haven't sat down since he died.

One can't. He was too big.

Yes.

Do you remember Alexei?

- I remember everyone. It's a gift.
- Oh. (LAUGHS)

Do you remember
the way he used to laugh?

(HE LAUGHS)

- Alexei Kapler, yes, yes.
- Yes.

Yes, special to you, of course.

Some unsuitable associates.

Tragic, really.

I'm... I'm so sorry.

Yes, well,
I want you to bring him back.

The way that you brought
Molotov's wife back.

She...

- Well, I'd kept her as...
- Yeah, but I just want one person.

Just one person.

- Oh, my darling.
- Please.

For you,
I will attempt the impossible.

(SOMBRE CLASSICAL MUSIC)

MEZHNIKOV:
Keep it moving if you can. Thank you.

A lot of people to process.

(SNEEZING)

Oh, fucking pollen. They should make
gas bombs out of the stuff.

Wait, wait, wait.
That's not gonna fit.

- It's larger than the region itself.
- Go back. Go back.

Hunker down.

A quarter turn.

Through on that line.

- BULGANIN: How's Polina?
- She's well.

I can sense how sorry she is
for her treachery.

Jesus Christ, it's the bishops.

KAGANOVICH:
I thought we'd banned those freaks.

Sneeze on the bastards
as they go past.

- Did you invite them?
- No.

- Ask Beria if he invited the bishops.
- Don't give me orders.

Ask Beria if he invited the bishops.

- Did you invite the bishops?
- Yes.

- Yes.
- Well?

- He said yes.
- (SIGHS)

I'm going to give everyone
in Red Square a voucher

permitting one kick each
to his stupid face.

Is he asking for some delicious hay?

No, he said something quite
complicated about a voucher system.

Ask Nikita why in God's arse
he invited the bishops.

- No, I've already explained why...
- Ask Nikita.

You tell him...

- Never mind. Swap.
- No.

- Just swap with me.
- I said no.

We can make it look like
it's part of the ceremony.

What the fuck are you doing?

(DOOR BURST OPEN)

(RUNNING FOOTSTEPS)

Buttoned-up sacks of shit! Fleabags!

Should I handle this for you?

(CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING
IN BACKGROUND)

Foreigners. A vile crime
has been perpetrated.

Hairy monsters in coats
have scooped out my father's brain

- and sent it to America.
- (TRANSLATORS SPEAK SOFTLY)

And these traitors,
sucking the cocks and balls...

...sucking the cocks and balls
of Zionist...

New York...
New York Zionist queers in petticoats.

Look at them. You see?
Those brain thieves.

- Do not translate this.
- I see you. Heed me.

- There's food next door, gentlemen.
- I'm Stalin's son!

You will not take me down.
I will not go down!

KHRUSHCHEV: Please,
this side. I'm sorry. I apologise.

I will not be silen...

I know about the hockey team.

- I'm most deeply...
- Up we go. That's it.

Thank you all for your...

- Medic!
- (GASPING)

Not today!

You're a fucking stain
on that uniform. You fucking behave.

SVETLANA:
What is going on?

He felt a little overwhelmed,
Svetlana.

Harm. This is a perfect
example of harm.

- He's okay.
- Come here. Get up.

- Who did this?
- I did, and I enjoyed it.

It's been a long time coming.

If any of you...

...should do anything...

Right, well, that's me told.

I'm off to represent
the entire Red Army at the buffet.

You girls enjoy yourself.

Are you all right? He fell very hard.

Why did you let him do that?

Yes, I should have intercepted
his fist with my face.

I want to make a speech
at my father's funeral.

- And I want to fuck Grace Kelly.
- I simply don't care.

I want to make a speech
at my father's funeral.

Comrade Malenkov, your view?

Well, I think, um...

it can be, um...

- no... no problem.
- Ah...

Technically, yes, but practically...

There are programmatic complications.

You know, I think I misspoke
when I said, "No problem."

What I meant was, "No."

"Problem."

Ignore me. I'm... It's no problem.

- Yes. I take that as a yes.
- Go ahead, Nikita.

I will unlock the schedule
and squeeze him in.

I will not be squeezed.

Sometimes the shortest speeches
are the most memorable.

- Well, that's as maybe.
- True. Fish! Let's eat.

- What's going on?
- I don't...

(SVETLANA TALKING TO GUESTS)

I look forward
to the five garbled words

we afford him
before we start the flypast.

Hey, we need to talk.
First the trains, now the bishops.

Who else are we pals with now?

- You invite any old Nazis?
- Excuse me.

These stairs are like climbing
Mount Kilimanjaro.

I'm more sweat than man.

- Did you see off Vasily?
- Yes, we did.

And thank you
for landing me this funeral.

Come on, Nicky. You're enjoying it.

But why did you
have to invite the bishops?

What, you think I wanted
those boyfriends of Christ here?

That was his idea.

Lavrenti, you of all people must know

that religion
has never been part of...

You lecturing me?
You standing in the Hall of Columns

still insisting on Polina's guilt?

Well, she... she is...

(STUTTERS)

- Um, sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have...
- Oh, come on.

No, no. You both called
the blameless Polina Molotova

a traitor and a parasite
in her own apartment. I heard you.

She was guilty.
You found her guilty.

And Stalin agreed.
Nobody doubted.

Nobody doubted.
Past tense, you see.

In the good old days you pine for,
that sort of dissonance

would have had you both shot.
Both of you.

Oh, (BLOWS OUT)
this is just fucking wordplay.

Oh, is it?

Allegiance to the party line, hm?
That was what Stalin demanded.

Correct, Comrade Molotov?

Um, allegiance to the party line? Yes.

And defiance of the party line,

that would mark you out
as a traitor, wouldn't it?

I'm ashamed and I... I...

I beg your forgiveness
for my selfish deceitfulness,

and I will go and reassure Polina.

You're just making this shit up
as you go along.

- What game is this, Lavrenti?
- Oh, don't be hysterical.

- We're in a new reality.
- What, you're the good guy now?

You locked up half the nation.

You beat them, you raped them,
you killed them.

Yes, and now I'm releasing them.

And you won't believe
how many will be free.

So now you want the public
to love you, is that it?

You're bending and cracking the truth
like a human body.

The truth?

This from the man who invited
his bit-on-the-side whore pianist

to play at the funeral,
even though she swore to kill Stalin,

who's now dead.

Whoa. What the barrelling fuck
are you talking about?

She wanted Stalin dead
and she knows your family.

She taught your niece
to play, remember?

I think you should read this.

It's the copy of a note I found
by Stalin's body, from the pianist.

It's lucky we both now live
in the new Soviet Union

or you and your wife and your family

would be a pile of dust
on the floor of a crematorium toilet.

Kobulov! My stomach's rumbling.

Is there any cheese in this building?

(EXHALES)

No, I don't have time
for that shit right now.

Wait, wait, wait.
Come back, come back.

No, go.

New security orders.
Restart the trains, all right?

Open the city's borders
and let the people back into Moscow.

They deserve to see the old man.

Let's see how Beria's goons
cope with that.

(TRAIN WHISTLE)

(STEAM HISSING)

MAN:
Train to Moscow in five minutes!

(LIVELY CHATTER)

(TRAIN WHISTLE)

(EXCITED CHATTER)

(TRAIN WHISTLE)

(FOOTSTEPS)

(LOW CHATTER)

- What's going on?
- Trains are bringing them in.

Quiet. Quiet, quiet.

Turn around!

- This is a secure area!
- We've come to see Comrade Stalin!

Back. Get back. Back!

- (SHOUTING)
- Back.

- Stay back.
- Stay where you are!

- (CROWD SHOUTING)
- Fire over their heads.

(GUNSHOTS AND SCREAMING)

(SHOUTING AND SCREAMING)

Don't let them through!

(GUNSHOTS)

(DOOR BURSTS OPEN)

This is your work, is it?

Why? Are there spelling mistakes?

Do you have any idea
what kind of man Beria is?

He's releasing people from prison.

That was my idea.
I was going to do that.

I'm the reformer. Me.

Don't you fucking laugh at me.
I was going to release the bishops.

- I thought you hated the Church.
- I do!

Just tell me it's not true.
Did you write this?

Stalin killed my family, my friends.

- Zinaida Reich, Kuperchinski.
- Kup... You knew Kuperchinski?

I should have you shot
just for saying his name.

Comrade Nikita Sergeyevich,
you know me. I...

Stop. No, I... I don't know you.
You don't know me.

You fucking taught
my niece piano lessons. That's it.

Don't you see what Beria's done now?
He's tied me to you.

We are tied together.

- Like a rock...
- I know.

...that's sinking and...

But I'm confident of everlasting life.

Who the fuck in their right mind
would want everlasting life?

The endless conversation.

(CLOSES THE DOOR SHUT)

(MURMUR OF VOICES)

Piano lessons, Nicky?
How's the fingering?

(SNIGGERS)
She hit the high note, did she?

(MIMICS PIANO SCALE)
F sharp?

Yeah, two clowns,
one joke between you.

Work on your fucking material.

Something's happening over there.

I hate him.
Hate her. Fucking wet box.

- Can you please just be cordial?
- I know the drill.

Smile, shake hands
and try not to call them a cunt.

Perfect. That's perfect.

- How many?
- 1500.

- Dead?
- Yes.

- I need a man with an army.
- Comrade minister.

I found her. She's uh...
grown a little since the photograph.

She's the size of an ostrich. No.

Okay, can we just go back
to my original idea

and find a girl
who looks like her but little?

No higher than this.
Chalk it on your fucking trousers.

Modern soldier's greatest fear.
It's not death. It's not starvation.

It's chafing.

And then he planted the flag
on Hitler's bunker

or he knocked the bear out
with one punch.

Either way, the man's a war hero.
Excuse us, please.

Listen, it was Goebbels' bunker,
not Hitler's.

Listen to me. I was the one
who put the trains back on.

- Comrade General...
- Fuck off!

Or I'll punch you into a sticky pulp.

- Thank you.
- What the fuck were you thinking?

I don't know, okay, but I did it.

- And I really need your help.
- To do what?

There's bodies fucking
piling up in the street.

It's a bit late, isn't it.

What if we blame this on someone...

- Wait.
- ...who's out of control.

Nicky, be very careful
what you say next.

Who?

Beria.

I'm gonna have to report
this conversation.

Threatening to do harm

or obstruct any member
of the Presidium in the process of...

Look at your fucking face.

(WHEEZING LAUGH)

Nikita Khrushchev.
(KISSES LOUDLY)

- You balls like Kremlin domes.
- Stop. Be serious. Are you in?

I'm in, I'm in. That fucker thinks
he can take on the Red Army.

I fucked Germany. I think I can take
a flesh lump in a fucking waistcoat.

- It's got to be tomorrow.
- Tomorrow?

Sorry.
You busy washing your hair or what?

Tomorrow's the funeral.

Yeah, the day that the entire fucking
army's in town with their guns.

(EXHALES) That's perfect.

But we need the Presidium on board.
Every one of them.

Yeah, yeah, yeah...
Malenkov's a bit tricky.

- No. We need fucking all of them.
- Well, I'll get him.

(SLOW PIANO MUSIC)

(WHISPERING)

- How many?
- 1500.

Find Khrushchev. I want to talk
to him about his future.

A very short conversation.

If you could do me a favour
and just nod as I'm speaking.

People are looking to me
for reassurance

and I have no idea what is going on.

We will bring the situation
under control. Order will be restored.

This moron has restarted the trains.

And your men pissed their pants
and killed 1500 people.

We were controlling the crowd.

Those people weren't
supposed to be there.

Are you blaming the dead

- for their own death?
- (SHUSHING)

I'm gonna tell you who's going to be
blamed. I am going to be blamed.

This shit sack is going to be blamed.

Let's get out of here.

- Comrade, your girl. A girl.
- Ah! There you are.

(KISSES PASSIONATELY)

Are we ready for the balcony wave?

Who's gonna carry the can
for this farrago of shit?

That's easy. Khrushchev.
He put the trains back on.

And you shot the people
getting off them.

- Yes, he has a point.
- No, he doesn't.

There's no point
to Nikita Khrushchev.

Well, how about this?
We blame the security forces.

Right? Hothead officers
on the ground.

- (KHRUSHCHEV AGREES)
- Sorry. I'm sorry.

Do you still possess a working brain?

You dumb animal.
I am the security forces

and I'm not gonna be made the villain
for this catastrophe.

Look, even if you do get blamed,
we close ranks.

If anyone has a pop at you,
they have to come through us first.

Yes, good idea.
Give me the girl. All right?

- A lot of this is your own doing.
- You spineless rat.

You're just a cadaver
we propped up in a corset.

- Ohh...
- Hey, hey, easy.

It's time all of you realised who kept
the daggers out of your backs.

Show some fucking respect.
I... I've got... I've got...

I've got documents.
I have documents on all of you.

You, 13th of March, 1937.

Zolotov trials.
Forty-two dead, 173 exiled.

- Your signature.
- Beria, that's enough!

Yeah, well, you signed off
the life of your own brother!

Oh, you think that was easy?
You bastard!

Bagrov, Gorev.

How did your conscience
accommodate that?

And Zykov! Zykov!
Poor blameless, guileless Zykov.

All of you!

(SCREAMS) All of you.
I have documents on all of you!

I've seen what you've done.

I know the truth.
It's all written down.

It's all written down on a very...
on a very fucking long list!

- Just pick them up.
- (PAPERS RUSTLING)

Are we done? Hm?

(PANTING) We will convene
tomorrow after the funeral.

I will nominate some scapegoats.

We can arraign a couple
of the officers who fired.

- No harm done.
- Are you okay?

Only comrades and friends
could shout at each other like this.

Right, so we'll fix this
in committee, all right?

Right, right...
He's using you, Georgy.

He's using you
and then he's gonna kill you.

- You saw those papers.
- What are you talking about?

Jesus, Nicky, he was pointing at you.
He wasn't pointing at me.

No, he said "all of you".

No, no.
I was over there, you know?

- And he went "all of you".
- Yeah, "all of you".

- No, no.
- Yes.

- "All of you."
- All of us.

No, he said "all of you".

You know, all of you
can kiss my Russian arse.

All of you.

On the balcony. Let's go.

(CHEERING AND APPLAUDING)

KAGANOVICH: Why did Molotov
want to meet us at dawn?

- Is he planning a duel?
- Said he wanted to start early.

Murderer!

You killed hundreds, Nicky.

You certainly got your big funeral.

- I'm regretting this already.
- MOLOTOV: Get in the car.

- What?
- Can't talk. Get in the car.

(BIRDS CHRIPING)

(GROAN OF EXERTION)

I see she moults.

This is for hungry ears.

- The drivers.
- (DOG YAPS)

(YAPPING)

Let's do him in.

- Who?
- Beria.

The treacherous snake
brought back the bishops.

He brought back Polina.

He expressly ignored
all Stalin's orders.

His men opened fire
on innocent people.

He'll get the blame.
Clever, eh, Nicky?

Yes, Beria is the murderer here.

This is how the Soviet Union
was built. Not with bishops.

Today Beria gets
an eight-foot crucifix up his arse.

- Good.
- I've...

I've had nightmares
that made more sense than this.

- Now we have a majority.
- Yes, you do.

- You two, me and Bulganin.
- Mikoyan and Malenkov.

- No... but we still have a majority.
- No, no, no.

Everyone in or not at all.

Oh, come on. Slava, you just...
Dammit, you just said...

- All in or it's off.
- No...

This is what Stalin would have wanted.
The Committee as one.

But you've got to act fast, comrade.
Act fast or be dead.

- (YAPPING CONTINUES)
- Yes, Uncle Nicky's going to be dead

if he doesn't get a move on, isn't he?

Yes, he is.

- (DOOR OPENS)
- BERIA: How's my guest?

Yes, I'm working on my speech.
It's good.

I've brought you something.

No.

I'm not drinking.
I'm using water.

It's just to calm your nerves.

Yes, actually,
I will need some of that.

- No. He's not drinking.
- No, I'm not drinking.

- How's the speech?
- Um... ba-dum-ba-dum...

My father...

...was a warm and mighty bear,

and we are his 170 million
orphaned cubs.

Russian cubs, Georgian cubs,
Armenian cubs, Lithuanian...

We'll leave you to it. Come on.

So, Lithuanian cubs,

- Ukrainian cubs, Moldavian cubs...
- (DOOR CLOSES)

Svetlana.

Alexei's dead.

15th of March, 1949.

Attempted escape from Kolyma
with 12 others.

Executed. I'm sorry.

But you said you would get him back.

Listen, it was outside my direct
control. It just wasn't possible.

Yes, but you said that
you would attempt the impossible.

I hate being sober. It's a terrible,
terrible mood to be in.

Why don't we go through that speech

- one more time?
- Sit down.

Get off me.
I can see what you're doing.

- I don't want to sit down.
- Sit down.

(SCREAMS)
I don't want to sit down!

Right, many terrible things were done
in the service of the Union.

Evidence was fabricated.

Those who are responsible
will be found...

And what will you do to them?
Question them to death?

You know what I'm doing?

I'm offering you and
that bloated soak my protection.

- We are not children!
- You are a real listener. Thank you.

- I am not a child.
- Yes, you are. Yes, you are.

And I warn you, stick by my side
or you will both be beaten inside out

and strung up
for the crows by the others.

Why should I trust you?

Because I'm the only one
who's telling you.

Trust no-one.

(BELL TOLLING)

Georgy, Georgy.
Georgy, we have to act today.

Act, you limpet?

Act sombre, act respectful
like the rest of us, please.

Do you understand
how important this is?

- Would you...
- Places, comrades, please.

Form up either side of the...
Comrade, thank you very much.

If you could join
your comrades over here.

- Thank you.
- Damn it.

All right, guys, come on. Lift it up.

- That's it.
- Come on. Let's go.

- Which foot?
- Left foot.

MALENKOV: I don't have a good balance.

Okay. Yes.

Ooh. Argh.

- (SHOT)
- KHRUSHCHEV: Georgy...

Not now. God sakes.

(ANOTHER SHOT)

- Georgy, we really have to talk.
- Shut up. Have some respect.

- Is Malenkov on board?
- Yes, 100 percent.

Saddle up, cowboy.

- Is Malenkov with us?
- Trust me, 100 percent.

Yes!

- So you're on board, then, Molotov?
- Yeah.

Okay. You've got me, then, Nicky.

- Put your dancing shoes on.
- (HEAVY GUN SALUTE)

- MOLOTOV: Which way shall I...
- OTHERS: Left.

- (GRUNTING)
- All right.

Okay, let's go and catch
a pig for the pot.

MOLOTOV: Stalin's love of the nation
was unwavering.

So must we now take
our unwavering pain,

our unwavering love,

and with it build an unwavering,
unwavering... future.

Guns, please, gentlemen.

Take good care of this.
Don't want it going off.

MALENKOV: Today we pause.
We pause in grief and sorrow.

But is not a pause in itself
part of the revolution?

I think it is.

- (DOORS OPEN)
- Okay, let's tango.

You heard him, gentlemen. Let's go.

BERIA:
We must embrace our terrible loss

with the strength and love
for our nation...

that Stalin himself held

in his mighty heart.

Check the stalls.

We promise you rights and liberties...

bread... and peace.

(APPLAUSE)

(CLICK)

VASILY: My father
was a great social scientist.

But we,
the people of the Soviet Union,

are not laboratory animals.

We are all but cubs.

Russian cubs,

Georgian cubs,

Armenian cubs,

Lithuanian cubs...

- (JET ENGINES PASSING)
- Latvian cubs...

Estonian cubs.

(JET ENGINES FLYING PAST)

- Very good speech, Lavrenti.
- Thank you.

Yes, "bread and peace".
I knew it would work.

(CHUCKLING)

It was between "peace" and "sausages".

Both good things, but you know
where you are with a sausage.

Your name rings out.
Malenkov the hero. Good lad.

Vasily's face
when the planes flew over.

(CHUCKLING)

- Should have strafed the little shit.
- (CHUCKLES)

Poor Vasily. I sometimes wonder
if he's meant for this world.

I salute you, Top Boy,
and I salute your haircut.

- Goodnight, Vienna.
- Georgy.

Action is gonna be taken
at the meeting.

Action? What action?

Is this why everyone is treating me
like they wanna fuck my sister?

Zhukov has everybody on board
against Beria.

- When I heard that, I agreed too.
- Yes, yes.

But Zhukov...
is not governing the Soviet Union.

I am governing the Soviet Union.

- Do you understand that?
- Yes.

Now, I like him and I'll be happy
to listen to what he has to say.

You'll definitely have a chance
to talk to him.

Perhaps what we can do
is give Beria a slight demotion,

I don't know, Ministry for Fisheries.

All right, boys.
Meet your dates for tonight.

I'll take the tall blonde.

Comrades, time to set aside our grief

and begin to write the next chapter
of our great history.

- Comrade Malenkov...
- Proceed.

Item one, the unfortunate events
of yesterday evening.

It's clear that the regrettable deaths
of so many citizens...

Comrades. Comrades,
I would like to propose a new agenda.

Item one,
the conduct of Comrade Beria.

Seconded. Time to take stock.

If you have
a serious proposal, comrade,

I suggest "Any Other Business".

I accuse Comrade Beria

of centralising power
within his Ministry

at the expense of the Party
and Central Committee...

- There's no tabled motion.
- ...betraying the Soviet Union.

I deplore this wanton
breach of protocol. Georgy.

Breach, my arse!
This is an ad hoc motion.

It will end very badly for you.
Georgy, Georgy!

Georgy, press the button
underneath the desk.

- Press the button, Georgy.
- What button?

- Arrest that madman.
- Where's the button?

(PUSHES BUTTON FIRMLY)

- (WEAPONS COCKED)
- Good luck, ladies.

Guards!
(BANGS ON THE WINDOW)

(SOUND INAUDIBLE OUTSIDE)

- Guards!
- (DOOR BURSTS OPEN)

Hands up or
I'll shoot you in the face.

Guards!

Oh, shit.

- Guards!
- Oi!

(GROANS)

Want a job done properly,
you call the army.

Take his belt off.

It's hard to run away
with your pants falling down.

If you want to talk to General Zhukov,
now's your opportunity.

Spit it out, Georgy.
Staging a coup here.

He's got a knife by his ankle.

- You're a disgrace.
- Give his head a good kicking.

- Make you feel better.
- All in good time.

Oh, I'm gonna enjoy peeling the skin
from your self-satisfied face.

Not with that, you won't.
Come on, then.

(GRUNTS)

Sorry, comrades.

- Wrong room.
- Aslanov.

- ZHUKOV: Go and kill them.
- BERIA: Kobulov.

- Shall we?
- KHRUSHCHEV: Yes, right.

Let's do this.
Georgy, come on, now.

Suit doesn't really work
without this belt.

Oh, shit.

(THUD)

Third door on the left. On the left.

KAGANOVICH:
I have been picturing this moment

every day for the last three decades.

Arrest the staff.
Arrest all Beria's staff.

- (SOLDIER SPEAKS RUSSIAN)
- Check the bedrooms.

Come out. You're safe.
This way. Come out this way.

You're safe. Come out.

- You, take her down.
- This way.

Is this magisterial
enough for you all?

This charade? This is a lavatory!

Well, you should feel at home, then,
you little coil of shit.

Fuck me.

Georgy's eyes really do follow
you round the crapper. It's weird.

Why did they hang a picture
of my grandmother in here?

(SNIGGERING)

This is madness.
This is madness.

- He deserves a trial.
- He'll get a trial. Take it easy.

Georgy!
Can't even look me in the eye.

- Guilt. Guilty, all of you.
- Say nothing.

Georgy, you'll get over it.
I did. Took me about five minutes.

H-How long before the army's here?
We're in complete limbo now.

Not long. We have to wait
for the NKVD to leave the Kremlin.

In that case, if nobody objects,
I'm going to spend a kopeck.

It's the excitement, I think.

(INAUDIBLE VOICES)

Right, hold your fire.

Hold your fire. Hold your fire!

The army's back.
Did you miss us?

- Take their weapons.
- Come on, this way.

All right, Judy Garland,
boys and girls. It's showtime.

Georgy.

- Georgy, you have to sign this now.
- No. No.

No. He deserves a fair trial.
He's one of us.

What about Tukhachevsky
and Piatakov?

Did they get a trial?

What about Sokolnikov?

Who begged him to look after
his elderly mother.

And what did this monster do?
He strangled her in front of him.

It's too late.

The only choice we have
is between his death or his revenge.

And you will fucking sign this.

I want it to go on record:

this was not my first
course of action.

Stalin would be loving this.

(BERIA MOANS)

- Through the door.
- (SHOUTING)

- Get the table.
- KHRUSHCHEV: Let me through.

Sit him down here. Sit him down.

- All right, all right.
- This... This is a travesty!

You are all witnesses to a criminal...
criminal travesty.

- MAN: Come on!
- (BANGING)

I demand... I demand... Fuck you!

I demand my rights under Article...

- Will you stop banging?
- Read it, Georgy.

- Here's your trial.
- Spit it out.

- Marshal?
- Comrade General Secretary!

- Get on with it!
- Read it.

You're judging me!
You're judging me!

- I judge you!
- Fuck you!

I judge you!
I judge all of you. All of you.

- Where's the logic?
- Nicky, read it.

Would you like me to read it for you?

- Read it, Nicky.
- Come on, Nicky, read it.

"You are accused

"of using your position
as Minister of the Interior

- "to plot against the Soviet Union...
- Traitor!

...with the goal of forwarding
the interests of foreign powers."

Foreign powers?
Which one, the fucking moon?

"You are also accused
of 347 counts of rape,

"of sexual deviancy
and bourgeois immorality

and acts of perversion with children
as young as seven years old."

Exotic for old Beria!

Seven years old!

BERIA:
Rapists! Rapists! You are the rapists!

- Error! Error! Error!
- (EVERYONE SHOUTING)

- Get on with it.
- "Petra Nikova, aged 13.

"Nadia Ranova, aged 14.
Magya Holovic, aged seven."

Would you like to read
the list yourself?

"You are accused of treason
and anti-Soviet behaviour.

The court finds you guilty
and sentences you to be shot."

- (SHOUTING)
- I rescind that.

BULGANIN:
Take him out.

No, please!

Please, don't shoot me!
Don't hurt me.

- MAN: Shoot him!
- (SHOUTING)

- Get him out. Come on!
- (GUNSHOT)

- Get out of here...
- (THUD)

Well, that's got it done.

Come on, have a look.

Come on.

This is for us.
This is for the people.

Everybody happy? Proper dead?

- Ruined everything, Lavrenti.
- Come on, get him up.

Fuck off back to Georgia, deadboy.

- On the rocks.
- It was shit knowing you.

Who's got a light?

Get the cans.

I wish the old man
could have seen this.

ZHUKOV:
That'll do.

(SIGHS) Fucking hell.

I'm knackered.
It's been a busy old week.

You see? Old Molotov's
still got some scheming left in him.

(COUGHING)

I will bury you in history.

- You hear me, you fat fucker?
- That's enough.

That's enough. Come on, now.

You smell like rendered horse,
you burning arsehole.

That's how you deal with a problem,
isn't it?

I'm sorry you had to be here.

I hope you didn't tell Beria that
he was going to be safe from harm.

You will be safe, okay?
Vasily, too. If you listen to me.

- (FIRE CRACKLING)
- Why wouldn't we be safe?

- What are you talking about?
- Just be quiet now.

- I refuse to be quiet every time...
- Just shut up!

Vasily stays here in Russia
where we can take care of him.

Read it.

Vienna?

- If I stayed, I could contain Vasily.
- No. No.

No, you go to Vienna. He stays.

We can't have a drunken madman

spreading conspiracy theories
all over the world.

- He's not... He's not bad.
- Listen to me.

- He's just ill.
- No. No.

You understand what's going on?

This is how people get killed,
when their stories don't fit.

Safe travels.

I never thought it would be you.

KHRUSHCHEV:
Now we can turn the corner.

Yeah.
Put all the bloodshed behind us.

I'm worried about Malenkov, though.

KHRUSHCHEV:
Can we trust him?

KAGANOVICH:
Can you ever trust a weak man?

(PIANO CONCERTO NO. 23
IN A MAJOR PLAYING)

(WHIRRING)

(PIANO CONCERTO NO. 23
IN A MAJOR PLAYING)

(MUSIC CONTINUES)

Subtitles by explosiveskull

(CAMERA CLICKS)