All language subtitles for The.Seagull.2018.1080p.BluRay.x264-[YTS.AM]

Bravo! Bravo!

Coming through.

Uh, I have the
carriage ready, sir.

Hi.

Where's my sister?

Shamrayev went to the theatre.

She'll be here any minute.

I'm gonna miss this old world.

I wish...

I wish I had seen more of it.

No, don't talk nonsense.

Well, you've seen more
of it than I have.

Oh, I think they're here.

Masha, come with me.

-Ma'am.
-Oh, Polina.

-Sir.
-Good evening.

Masha.

-Kostya.
-Hello, Mother.

Look at you.

-How is he?
-How am I?

They found it necessary
to write for you to come,

so I must be seriously ill.

Konstantin?

Your mother tells me you're
not angry with me anymore.

Boris brought the magazine
with your new story in it.

Show him.

That's very kind of you.
Thank you.

While Sorin is resting,
why don't we play a game?

-Should I get the lotto set, Mama?
-Yes, dear.

You have many fans in Moscow.

Everyone's always
asking about you.

And did you like the story?

I'm planning on reading it
on the train back to Moscow.

So you'll be leaving soon?

Tomorrow, probably.

Polina, how can I help?

I think we're ready.

Yes.

Boris, come.

We never played when you
were here in the summer.

We usually play lotto when
the long nights set in.

This is my mother's old set.

It's a stupid game, but after
a while, you don't notice.

Kostya. Shut the window.
It's drafty.

You should have heard the
reception they gave me tonight.

Oh!

My God. My head's
still spinning from it.

Are you in, Konstantin?

No, Mama. If you don't mind,
I'm gonna work for a bit.

The stake is ten kopecks.

You'll put in for me,
won't you, Doctor?

Certainly.

-Have we all put in?
-I'm in.

You ready? Here we go.

Twenty-two.

Konstantin's playing.

He must be unhappy, poor lad.

Seventy-seven.

They've been having a go
at him in the newspapers.

He can't seem to
find his own voice.

Well, I believe in Konstantin.

There's something there.
He thinks in images.

His stories are striking. I'm
affected by them. Aren't you?

Eight.

Eighty-one.

Oh, Papa.

One more time,
from the beginning.

No, if I don't get home now,

my father won't let
me come back later.

Ride with me.

I can't. There's
too much work to do.

I'll see you tonight.

Don't be late, and
study your lines.

Hey.

I love you.

Kostya!

I'm putting the
puppets over here.

Want one?

Uh, no. Thank you.

Why do you always wear black?

I'm in mourning

for my life.

Why?

You're healthy. You have
enough money to get by.

Life's a lot harder for me.
I'm a schoolteacher.

I hardly make anything.

You don't see me all in black.

It's not about money.

Even a poor man can be happy.

Every day,

I meet with nothing but
indifference from you.

Stop it, Medvedenko.

I'm touched by your love.

I just can't return it.
That's all.

-Now, this is a theatre.
-Masha.

Masha, wait!

The curtain will go
up at 8:30 sharp,

when the moon is rising.

Exciting.

Of course, if Nina
doesn't get here soon,

the whole effect will be ruined.

God, she's already late.

Don't be impatient.

You know what her
father is like?

I have one thing to ask you.

I have one word to say to you.

Champagne.

Did I not ask for champagne
this morning in my...

-Sweetheart, sweetheart.

-Did I not ask for it last night?
-Sweetheart, we're out.

No, I wanted it
upstairs in my bedroom.

Why is my sister
in such a bad mood?

Why?

She's bored.

Jealous.

She's already set against
me and the play because...

she's not acting
in it, and Nina is.

She already hates it.

Your mother adores you.

She also knows I have no
respect for her theatre.

She thinks she's dedicated
to serving humanity

with her sacred art,

but as far as I'm concerned,

the modern theatre is trite

and riddled with cliches.

When they take
cheap, vulgar plots

and cheap, vulgar speeches
and try to extract

-some easily digestible
moral, -Oh, God.

I want to run out of the
exit and keep on running

the way Maupassant ran
from the Eiffel Tower

because its vulgarity
was crushing his brain.

-We need the theatre.
-What we need are new forms,

and if we can't have them,
then give us nothing!

Boris!

Come. Come here.

Hey!

What's the gossip on him?

He's smart, actually.

Unpretentious.

Kind of melancholy.
Pretty decent, really.

Not even 40, but he's
already a celebrity.

Maybe a little full of himself.

These days, he
drinks a lot of beer

and makes love to older women.

Well, when I was young,

I passionately
wanted two things.

I wanted to get married.

I wanted to become an author.

I never managed either one.

Nina, hello!

Even the thought of her
makes my heart race.

I am insanely happy.

My muse, my dream.

-Please tell me I'm not late.
-No.

I've been worrying all day.

I rode like a
madman to get here.

It's all right. We're alone.

Is that you, Yakov?

Yeah.

We'll start when the sun sets.

Get everyone ready
in their places.

-Is the moon rising?
-Yep.

Arise, fair sun, and
kill the envious moon,

who is already sick
and pale with grief.

Why are you so nervous?

I'm not.

Well, I'm not afraid to
perform for your mother, but...

Boris Trigorin, he's so famous.

I'm embarrassed to
act in front of him.

He looked young.

He is young and accomplished,
don't remind me.

His stories are incredible.

Well, his stories
are full of life.

In your plays, everyone's dead.

My goal is to show life

the way we experience
it in dreams,

not the way it is or the
way we think it should be.

Yes, but nothing
happens in your play.

It's all talk.

I think there should
be a love story.

'A country place,'
they called it.

And I was standing
in the back...

It's getting damp.

Go back before the play starts.

Put on your boots.

I'm too hot.

You're too stubborn.

Your feet will get wet.

You're a doctor. You
should know better.

Oh, look at that.

We're gonna be
sitting in the woods.

You like her. Admit it.

Who do you like?

Masha, please ask your
father to unchain his dog.

Otherwise, he'll be
howling all night.

Ask him yourself.

Shall I sit next to you, Doctor?

Darling son, when do we begin?

In a minute. Please be patient.

Gentle son, upon the heat
and flame of thy distemper,

sprinkle cool patience.

Mmm.

O gentle Mother, let
me wring your heart

if it be made of
penetrable stuff.

Look here upon this picture.

You cannot call it 'love,'

for at your age, the heyday
in the blood is tame.

It's humble.

O you honourable
ancient shadows,

which drift among us

as night descends
upon this lake,

lull us to sleep,

and let us dream of that

which will come to
be in 200,000 years.

In 200,000 years,
there'll be nothing.

Then let them show us nothing.

Yes, let them. We're
already asleep.

Oh.

Humans,

lions,

eagles and partridges,

horned deer,

geese,

silent fishes

dwelling in the water,

starfish,

and those that cannot be seen

-with our eyes.
-Oh, thank you.

In a word,

all lives,

all lives,

all lives,

having accomplished
their doleful circle,

have died out.

Already, thousands of
centuries have passed

since the Earth has borne
one living creature,

and, in vain,

the poor moon shines her light.

Cold,

cold,

empty,

empty,

horrible,

horrible,

most horrible...

My thoughts exactly.

Mother!

Sorry.

Keep going. Go on. Go on.

The bodies of living creatures

have vanished into dust,

and their souls

have fused into one.

The universal soul.

-Sir.
-It is I. I!

In my soul

is Alexander the Great,

and Caesar,

and Shakespeare,

and Napoleon,

and the lowliest of leeches.

I think this is
supposed to be high art.

Mother!

I am alone.

I am alone.

Once in 100 years,

I open my lips in
order to speak,

and my voice is heard in
this cheerless emptiness.

And no one listens.

And the devil,

the father of eternal matter,

determined to keep life
from springing up in you,

causes a constant
transmutation of atoms.

Like a captive cast into
a deep, hollow void,

I do not know what waits for me.

In this stubborn, cruel
struggle with the devil,

I can see clearly that I am
destined to vanquish him.

Uh, it smells like
something's burning.

-Mother!
-Yes, I smell smoke.

And until that time...

Horror!

Horror!

Horror!

My powerful adversary,

-the devil, comes closer.
-Oh. Oh, I see.

-Oh. It's a special effect.
-I see his terrible crimson eyes.

He is bored without man.

Put your hat back on.
You'll catch a cold.

No, the Doctor
has tipped his hat

to the devil, the father
of eternal matter.

All right, that's it! The play is finished!
Enough, enough.

Curtain! Curtain!
Bring up the curtain!

Bring down the curtain!

I've had enough! Enough!

Why are you angry?

No, enough!

I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I forgot
that writing and acting in plays

is reserved for the chosen few!

I've defied the monopoly!

-Hey, Kostya.
-What is wrong with him?

What did I do?

For heaven's sake, he
wanted to please you.

And I was willing to listen,

even to his ravings, but...

His claims to new forms,
they're pretentious.

Since when has the exhibition

of a morbid personality
been a new art form?

Everyone writes what he
wants and as best he can.

Well, then let him
write what he wants

and as best he can.

Just tell him to please
leave me in peace.

When Jupiter's angry,
Jupiter's wrong.

I am not Jupiter.

I am a woman, and
I am not angry.

I'm disappointed that
a young man should

spend his time so foolishly.

Thank you.

You know,

someone should write a play

about a schoolteacher
and how he lives.

-It's a hard life.
-Hmm.

It's very, very hard.

Boris, come. Come sit by me now.

Oh...

You should have been here ten,

even five years ago.

We listened to music and singing

all night long,
almost every night.

Remember all the
laughter and the noise?

And the love affairs...
So many love affairs.

Guess who was the
romantic idol of the town.

None other than the Doctor.

You're handsome now, but
then you were irresistible.

Why did I hurt him?

Konstantin!

Konstantin!

-I'll go and look for him.
-Would you? Thanks.

Konstantin!

Konstantin!

Polina.

-Mama?
-Polina.

Papa.

Excuse me.

It's nothing.

Don't worry. I just
felt a little sad.

Excuse me.

Konstantin!

Oh, come in.

Come in.

Oh...

Is our playwright
still in hiding?

-Well, I can't find him.
-Oh.

-Brava.
-Ah, yes. Brava.

-Brava.
-Brava.

Well, we all adored you.
You were wonderful.

Such a face, such
a marvellous voice.

It would be a shame for
you to stay in the country.

You must go on the stage.

Well, that's my dream, but...

But what? It could happen.

Oh, allow me to introduce you.

Boris Trigorin.

No, no. Don't be shy.

He's a celebrity, but
he has a simple soul.

Irina.

A pleasure.

I'm honoured.

I've read all your work.

You see? He's shy, too.

Konstantin!

Konstantin!

Irina?

Oh.

Thank you.

Oh.

-Hello.
-Hello.

It was a strange
play, wasn't it?

I didn't understand
a word of it.

But I enjoyed watching it.

Uh, you were... You
were so sincere.

And the scenery
was so beautiful.

Are there fish in the lake?

Yes.

I love fishing.

I can think of
nothing more enjoyable

than an evening on the bank

with a fishing pole in my hand.

Ah.

There you are.

I hope you're not
flattering him.

He doesn't know how to behave

when people say
nice things to him.

Excuse me.

And there was another time...

This was in Moscow at the opera.

The celebrated Silva

sang a low C.

And, um...

But as luck would have it,

a bass from our church choir

was sitting in the gallery,

and all of a sudden, to
our complete amazement,

we hear from the gallery,

'Bravo, Silva.'

A full octave lower!

Like this,

'Bravo, Silva.'

The angel of silence
has just flown over.

Well, it's time for me to go.

Oh.

It's so early. We won't let you.

Oh, no, my father
is waiting for me.

Oh, well, it's a shame.
It's just a shame.

Just for an hour. Really, stay.

Oh, no. I'd really
love to, but I can't.

I'm sorry. Good night.

Poor girl.

Literally.

Her mother died and left
everything to her father,

but when he dies,

he's leaving everything
to his new wife.

Nina won't get a cent.

She'll have nothing.

It's scandalous.

Yes.

To be frank,

her father is a monster.

Well, I'd better move before
I freeze in this position.

Your legs are like stiff boards.

Let's get you some fresh
air, you unlucky old man.

Madame?

Be a good man. Unleash that dog.

Can't do that.

I'm worried thieves
will get into the barn.

I'm telling you,

it was a whole octave lower,
like this,

'Bravo, Silva.'

And he wasn't a famous singer,

just a church choir member.

How much does a singer
in a church choir make?

Maybe I've lost my mind, but

I liked the play.

No one's here, are they?

I'm here.

Move over.

There was something about it.

A feeling of loneliness.

And then,

when the eyes of
the devil appeared,

my hands were shaking.

Konstantin!

Konstantin!

Masha's looking
for me everywhere.

Konstantin,

I liked your play very much.

It's definitely strange.

And I didn't hear
the end, of course,

but it made a strong
impression on me.

You're a talented man.

You need to continue.

You know,

I've had a pretty
interesting life.

I'm content, but...

If I ever got to experience

the spiritual high
an artist feels

at the moment of creation,

I bet I would abandon
my current life,

leave it all behind.

Chase new highs,

never let myself
get weighed down

in this earthly existence.

Where is Nina?

She went home.

I should go to her.

Konstantin!

Hey, Kostya.

Kostya, stay here.

-Konstantin.
-No, I've got to get out of here.

Will you please go
back to the house?

-Your mother is very worried.
-Tell her I left.

-Wait, Konstantin.
-What do you want?

-I know you're upset, and I'm sorry.
-No.

-Masha, please. Listen to me.
-I'm trying to help.

No, I'm saying that I understand.
What can I do?

You can leave me alone.

Come on. Don't be like that.

I'm sorry, Doctor.

Youth.

Youth.

When people have
nothing better to say,

they say, 'Youth. Youth.'

It's a filthy habit.

Masha.

What's wrong?
What's wrong, Masha?

Nobody knows how
much I'm suffering.

I love Konstantin.

Oh, God.

Oh.

The spells cast by this lake.

Aw.

Well, what can I do, my child?

Hmm?

What?

Konstantin.

Konstantin.

Masha.

Why is my son so depressed?

He's heartsick.

My foot's asleep.

Masha?

Always in black,

smokes, drinks vodka.

The schoolteacher loves her.

All right. Come
stand next to me.

You're 28, yes?

I'm almost twice your age.

Come.

Sergei, which of
us looks younger?

Well?

Which of us looks younger?

You do, of course.

Ah.

There, you see? And why?

Because I work. I'm
constantly doing something.

I experience life.

You just sit still in one
place, not really living.

Yes?

And I have a rule.

I never think about the future.
I...

never think about
old age or death.

What will come in
life will come.

I always hold myself straight
and tall, and I'm dressed

with my hair comme il faut.

Would I ever go outside,

even here to the garden,
in my working clothes,

without my hair perfectly coiffed?
Never.

And I stay out of
the sun, naturally.

That's why I look
so good at my age.

I just never let myself
go like some people.

See, Masha? Look at me. See?

Light as a feather.

I could play a girl of 15.

Guess whose father
and stepmother

-have gone to Yalta for three days.
-Ah.

I'm yours until
they've returned.

Isn't she adorable?
Give us a turn.

Ah!

Simply adorable.

Yes, and nicely dressed.

You're a clever girl. Well, sit down.
Join us.

I think we'll start with
the croquettes, Eugenie.

Yes, ma'am.

I ache all over.

But the Doctor here
won't treat me.

You're an old man.

Even old men want to live.

Where is Boris?

He's down by the lake, fishing.

Have you spoken to Konstantin?

Uh, no.

-I don't think he wants to talk to me.
-Oh?

You should recite more
from his play later.

I'd love to hear the ending.

Really?

Why?

I think it was 1873
at the Poltava Fair.

She was amazing. Gave an
incredible performance.

Quite wonderful.

Do you happen to know

what became of the
comedian, Chadin?

He gave an incomparable
Rasplyuyev.

Better than Sadovsky.
You have my word, ma'am.

What is he doing now, ma'am?

You keep asking me about
people from before the flood.

How should I know?

How about some music
after our meal?

-You'll sing for us, darling, won't you?
-No, no.

-Oh, yes.
-No, no. I couldn't.

Yes, yes, just one song.

Absolutely not.

Singing is hardly my forte.

Well, then perhaps Nina.

Won't you sing for us?

# Eyes that haunt me so
Eyes that taunt me so

# While they smiled at me
Life was ecstasy

# I'm in love with you

# I'm afraid of you

# Since I saw you go
Now my spirit's low

# Eyes of destiny
While you beckon me

# I must follow still
Over plain and hill

# Love, where'er I be

# I shall always see

# Stars of hope for me

# Your dark eyes #

Ah, I haven't sung
like that in years.

I sounded so good.

It's hot. It's quiet.

No one does anything.

Why does no one do anything?

-Well, I'm trying to read.
-Yes, well,

good for you.

I'm considering going into town.

Polina. You'd join
me, wouldn't you?

-I'd be happy to escort you.
-Ha!

Then it's settled.

You'll arrange the horses

to take us into town
in about an hour.

-I think it's a grand idea.
-Ma'am?

It's a good plan, but
how will you get there?

Excuse me?

Well, forgive me, ma'am,
but we're carting rye today.

Which horses were you
thinking of using?

'Which horses'?
How should I know?

Don't we have carriage horses?

'Don't we have carriage horses?'

Sir, with the greatest respect,

you don't seem to understand
a thing about farming.

-No.

You don't seem to understand
how to do your job.

-I'm sure we can resolve this.
-No, no, no.

He pulls this every year.

Because every year, you lack

any sense of how
this farm operates.

-Don't lecture me.
-Please.

I am going to Moscow,
and I'm going today.

Would you please be so good

as to hire horses
in the village?

Well, I cannot conjure
horses out of thin air.

Absolutely incompetent!

Every year, it's
the same excuses.

Well, if that's how
you feel, I resign!

Every summer, I come down here,

and I am insulted by you.

Then you can find
yourself another manager.

Fine. I'm going into town,
and I'm not coming back.

Farewell. My deepest apologies

for being unable to magically

conjure horses out of thin air!

How hard is it to find a horse?

My kingdom for a bloody horse!

Apologise to her!

Oh, God!

What did I miss?

Irina is upset,
Polina is crying,

and Shamrayev is resigning.

I'll offer to
tranquillise all of them.

What's that supposed to mean?

I sank low enough today
to kill this seagull.

I lay it at your feet.

What's wrong with you?

Soon, I'm gonna kill
myself in the same way.

Don't follow me.

-I don't know you like this.
-I don't know you like this!

You look at me as
if I'm a stranger...

Are you embarrassed by me?

Well,

lately, you've become so...

You keep talking in symbols or...
I mean,

look at that seagull.
What does that mean?

Because, I'm sorry,
Konstantin, but I have no idea.

Maybe I'm too simple
to understand you.

What don't you understand?

My play was a fiasco.

Now you think I'm some
insignificant nobody

just like the rest of them do!

Nina!

Nina!

Oh, Sergei.

-Oh.
-Oh, Sergei.

Let me come and live with you.

We're not young anymore.

Let's end our days together

without having to hide.

I'm 55.

It's a little late
to change my life.

It's because you have
other women, right?

I'm not the only one.

You can't invite all of us

-to come and live with you.
-Oh, Polina...

Oh, don't cry.

I'm sorry.

The actress' brother

sleeps often,

needs a haircut.

Perpetually unhappy.

The actress' son,

wildly jealous,

fame-seeker...

You're always writing.

Yes, well, I am a man possessed.

I must write. I must write.
I must write.

He's still upset about the play.

Well, I'm a little
bit upset myself.

Due to an unexpected event,

it seems we're leaving today.

No.

I wish I had more time.

It's not often I
have the occasion

to meet young,
interesting women.

I mean it.

I've already forgotten what
it's like to be 18 or 19.

That's why the young women in my

books and stories
don't ring true.

I'd love to be in your
shoes for just an hour,

know how you think,

what kind of little
creature you are.

Well,

I'd love to be in your shoes,

to know how it feels to
be a celebrated writer.

Well?

'Well,' what?

Are you coming?

Eugenie?

Something nicer for
this evening, I think.

You wanted to be comfortable
for the journey back.

Something nicer, I think.

The lavender?

Perfect.

What does it feel
like to be famous?

What does it feel like?

Feels like not being
famous, probably.

I never think about it.

Well, what about when

you read about yourself
in the newspapers?

What does that feel like?

Well, when they're flattering
notices, I like it.

And when they're nasty, I'm
depressed for a day or two.

If I were great like you,

I'd dedicate my whole
life to my public.

I'd let them pull my
chariot through the streets

because I'd know
that it's the...

They're reaching up to me.

That's what makes them happy.

And in a chariot, no less.

So you're Cleopatra now?

To have that feeling,

I'd put up with family and
friends turning against me.

I'd endure poverty. I'd...

live on rye bread in a garret.

But in return,

I would demand fame.

Real, resounding fame.

Have you seen Nina?

She went to the lake with Boris.

Konstantin!

Konstantin!

Konstantin!

I know every little island.

I've spent my whole
life on this lake.

You live in a magical place.

I envy you.

Some people can...

barely crawl through their...

dull, obscure existence, but...

you get a life that's brilliant,

interesting, meaningful.

You're happy.

Am I?

Here you are talking
about fame, happiness...

To me, you sound a bit naive.

Well, to me, you sound
jaded and pompous.

All right.

Wait. Come back.

Wait.

All right.

Let's talk about my
beautiful, brilliant life.

How do I begin?

Day and night,

I am haunted

by a single,

obsessive thought.

'I must write. I must write.
I must write.'

No sooner do I finish one story,

then, for God knows what
reason, I have to write another,

and another, and another.

What's so beautiful and
brilliant about that?

It's a ridiculous life.

Here I am.

I'm talking to you.

I'm getting all riled up...

You see that cloud over there?

Looks like a grand piano.

I'm thinking, I must fit
that into a story sometime.

'A cloud drifted by,
looking like a grand piano.'

I catch a whiff of heliotrope.

I instantly make a mental note.

'Cloying smell,

colour of widow's weeds.'

'Must refer to that next time

I'm describing a
summer's evening.'

Go on.

Konstantin?

Go away!

-Ah! Beautiful day...
-Go away!

We should get back.

Well, we are going back.

Yes.

-That's what we're doing.
-Right.

I should be able to relax

on a lake, forget myself.

But even here,

I'm never left in peace.

Well, we don't have to talk

if you'd prefer to...

Konstantin is
constantly in his head,

dreaming about his next work.

Well, when I was his age,

many years ago,

when you're starting out,

unknown and ignored,

the work is sheer agony.

But even then,

even when you're a lesser
writer without any luck,

you still want to be part
of the literary scene.

But when you're inspired,

actually...

in the thick of creation,

doesn't that give you,

just for that moment,

a feeling of being lifted up,

of sublime happiness?

Boris!

I'm being summoned.

To pack, no doubt.

I wish I could stay.

Boris Alexeyevich!

What's this?

Konstantin shot it.

Beautiful bird.

Can't you convince her to stay?

Boris?

What are you writing?

An idea for a short story.

A young girl

who spent her whole life
on the shore of a lake.

A lake that she loves,

where she feels happy and free,

like a seagull.

And?

And by chance,

a man comes along,

sees her.

And with nothing better to do...

Boris Alexeyevich!

Foolish, foolish boy.

I'll be honest with you.

If he had seriously
hurt himself,

I couldn't live another minute.

I have decided

I am going to...

tear this love out of my heart.

Just going to...

rip it out

by the roots.

How are you gonna do that?

I'll get married

to Medvedenko.

I think that's overdoing it.

Is it?

Loving without hope.

Waiting for years for
something that will never come.

You don't know what
I've been feeling.

At least,

when I'm married,
I'll have new troubles

to blot out the old ones, right?

Whoa, whoa.

-Anything for a change.
-No, no, no.

The schoolteacher's
not very smart.

-No, no, no!
-But he's a good person, and...

Well, he doesn't have
any money, but...

No, no, no. Stay.
Good boy. Good boy.

He loves me very much.

Don't look at me like that.

A lot of women drink.

Just not as openly as I do.

Here's to you.

You're a good person.

I'm sorry you're leaving.

Me, too.

I don't want to go.

-Then ask her to stay.
-No, no.

Not while her son is being a...

Not content with
ruining his own life,

he's hell-bent on ruining mine.

He's challenged me to a duel.

Oh, no.

Why?

Because of my writing?

There's room enough
for all of us.

Of course.

But he's jealous.

You must know that.

Not that it's any
of my business.

Until next time, my friend.

Send me your books,

and be sure to
write a dedication.

And none of that

'deepest regards' or
'fond wishes.' Just write,

'To Masha',

'who has no clue
where she belongs'

'or what she's doing
on this Earth.'

Excuse me.

Pick a hand.

This one means no.

I'm trying to decide whether
or not to go on the stage.

I wish someone would
tell me what to do.

Well, that's not something

somebody can decide for you.

I have a little gift for you.

What is it?

Something to remember me by.

I've had your initials
engraved on it, and,

on the other side, the
title of one of your books.

That is very sweet of you.

Boris!

Give me two minutes
before you go.

-Why lines 11 and 12?
-Boris!

Just two minutes in
the solarium, please.

# Two grenadiers
were riding to France

# Home from their
prisons in Russia #

I once started to
sing like that.

One of the assistant
prosecutors said to me,

'You have a very powerful
voice, Your Excellency.'

Then he stopped for a
moment, and he thought,

'Powerful, but horrible.'

Mmm-hmm.

Who was that that you
were talking to? Nina?

-Yes.
-Ah.

Why do you keep hobbling
around everywhere

if your joints are aching?

So what's that?

Oh, it's just a...

Do you have any of my
books in the house?

I need to look something up.

Uh, in the study.
Corner bookcase.

You don't have to
travel with us.

Why don't you stay here?

You'll feel better.

No, no, no. Not
with you going away.

It's depressing
here without you.

Well, what are you
going to do in town?

Nothing much.

How is the patient?

He's better.

He's resting.

He's unhappy, you know.

I know he's unhappy.
He shot himself.

I know he's not well.

How do you think
that makes me feel?

-All right, relax.
-I'm going away,

and I still don't know
why he tried to...

I think jealousy's the
main reason, but I...

So the sooner I take Boris
away from here, the better.

It's not the only reason.

He's a young, intelligent man.

He's living in the country
with no money of his own,

no clear occupation, no future.

He's... He's frightened.

-You're going to upset me.
-Listen to me, Irina, honey.

He thinks he's unwanted.

Even here, he feels
like a charity case.

Give him some money.

I see. If only I
weren't so stingy,

and if only you
were living in town,

then we'd all be happy.

I'm the reason for your
misery these past 20 years.

It's all my fault. Right?

I've only been
miserable the past 10.

My son is capable of
getting a job on his own.

-A desk job or something.
-Give him some money!

Let him go abroad for
a bit, enjoy himself.

Going abroad would
cost a fortune,

and I'm not even sure I could
afford a new suit for him.

Of course, I believe you.

Stop that!

Oh, you're a generous,
magnanimous woman.

I have no money.

If I had money,
I'd give it to him.

I know. You're destitute.

Generous, but destitute.

I am an actress. My
costume bills alone

-are enough to ruin me.
-I respect you.

Petrushka?

Help!

Someone, help!

Help!

Are you all right? Wake up.

Help! Somebody.

It's all right, Mama. It's okay.

-He's... He's...
-He's all right.

Uncle has these fainting spells.

-It's nothing serious.
-He's all right.

He should go lie down.
Will you take him?

Yeah.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

Here's a riddle for you.

What goes around in the
morning on all fours,

at midday on two,

in the evening on three...

And at night on your back.
It's all right.

I can walk. I can walk!

Don't look at me like that.

Living in the country
isn't good for him, Mama.

For God's sake, why won't
you give him some money?

I am an actress, not a banker.

Mama, living in the
country gets him down.

I heard you.

But I...

The Doctor's late. I'm...

Will you change my bandage?

No one does it better than you.

Get the box with the dressings.

'If you ever have
need of my life,

come and take it.'

You look like
somebody in a turban.

Last night, Olga
saw you walk by.

She wanted to know what
country you were from.

Oh, well.

There we go.

There we are.

Oh.

It's practically healed.

Barely a week, and there's
just a tiny bruise left.

Now, promise me

there'll be no more of...

Of this, while I'm gone?

Promise?

Promise.

I just went mad for a moment.

It won't happen again.

All right.

Oh...

Sorry.

You remember when you were
working at the Imperial?

I was a little boy,
and there was...

There was a fight
in the courtyard

where we were living.
Do you...

A washer woman in our
building got badly hurt.

Do you remember that?

Mmm, no.

She was out cold when
they picked her up.

Hmm.

You were always
going in to see her.

You used to

bring her medicine, and

you used to wash
her children in her

washtub. You don't
remember that?

No.

There were two ballerinas

living in our
building at the time.

They used to come
in and have coffee.

Oh, that, I remember.

They were so religious.

These last few days,

I've loved you as tenderly and

as honestly as I did
when I was little.

I have nobody but you now.

I just don't understand why...

Why do you let that man
have such a hold over you?

You don't know him, Konstantin.

He's noble.

-'Noble'?
-And you might not like

the fact that we're lovers,

but you're intelligent
and cultured.

I'm sorry.

But we're practically
falling out over him,

and right now, he's in
the garden with Nina,

trying to convince her that
he's some sort of genius.

You seem to take pleasure
in being horrible to me.

I have the greatest
respect for that man,

and I will thank you not
to speak of him like that

-in my presence.
-But I don't respect him.

I'm sorry, I can't.

His books are...

They make me sick.

That's envy.

People who lack talent
spend their time

insulting those who have it.

It's their consolation prize.

Is that why you
spend all your time

-insulting me?
-No.

-Because you have no talent?
-You're just being a baby.

Why? Because I'm not
taken in by either of you?

Oh, yes, yes. My
son, the radical.

Yeah, then go on, that's it.
Run away.

Run away just like
you always do.

Run off to your
cosy little theatre

and act in your pathetic,
stupid little plays.

I have never in my life

appeared in a play
of that description.

I do as many celebrated
classics as I do silly comedies.

This winter, I'm
touring in Macbeth.

Are you one of the witches?

I'm Lady Macbeth.

Snide little nonentity.
Get away from me.

You, you can't even write a
wretched little comic sketch.

Why don't you just go back
to Kiev and open a shop?

-Parasite.
-Miser.

-Rat's nest!
-Has-been!

Nobody! You're nobody!

Crybaby.

Please don't cry.

Please don't. There's
nothing to cry about.

He's going away.

I promise.

I am taking him away.

And then she'll love you
again, and it'll be all right.

I promise.

There.

You're all right?

All right?

We're friends again?

I'm sorry.

It's okay, Mama.

And you'll make up with Boris.

I mean, there's really no need
to fight with him, is there?

Mama, please. Please
don't make me see him.

-All right, all right.
-I'm... I can't.

All right.

I'll be by the lake
until he's gone.

'If you ever have need of
my life, come and take it.'

How was your morning?

Oh.

Irina? You upset?

I'm fine, my love. It's just...

time to go. That's all.

Well, what if we...

What if we what?

What if we stay one more day?

Darling, why can't we stay?

Because,

darling, um,

I know why you want to stay,

but get control of yourself.

You're a little drunk.

Sober up.

No.

Be reasonable.

You're capable of sacrifice.

Be a true friend.

Please, be generous.

Let me go.

'Be generous'?

What, are you that
infatuated with her?

I'm attracted to her. I...

This could be what's
missing in my life.

What?

The love of a
little country girl?

That's how little
you know yourself?

I can't stop thinking about her.
Even now,

I'm talking with you,

-but it's as if I'm asleep.
-No.

-Stop, please.
-I'm possessed by the thought of her.

This could be my last
chance at a love like this.

Please, I am begging you.

-Let me go.
-No.

-Let me go.
-No, no, no.

You can't say those
things to me, Boris.

I'm just a woman like any other.

This is your chance to be
a woman unlike any other.

You're torturing me.

Please, you're scaring me.

I've never known love
like this before.

When I was young,

I spent every minute
struggling to survive,

and now it's in front of
me, a love I've never known,

and you want me to
run away from it?

-You have lost your mind.
-I don't care!

-Please, let me go.
-Oh.

My dear,

my darling,

wonderful man.

My life's last page.

If you leave me
even for an instant,

I just won't be alive
at the end of it.

My magician.

My prince.

My king in all his glory.

-Somebody could come in at any minute.
-Let them.

I'm not ashamed of loving you,

and I am not setting you free.

You are the most brilliant
writer in Russia.

Your work has such integrity
and simplicity and humour.

Your characters are alive.

Do you realise that it is

impossible to read you

without getting swept up?

What? You think
I'm flattering you.

Look at me.

Look into my eyes.

Am I lying to you?

I'm the only one

who always tells you the truth.

Always.

You'll come with me, won't you?

Don't abandon me.

I have no will of my own.

Never have.

I'm spineless,

weak,

submissive.

Is that what women really want?

Take me. Take me away.

Just don't relax your
grip for an instant.

You're mine.

Of course, you should stay

if you want to. I can
always go into town,

and you could come in a week or so.
There's no hurry.

No, no, no, we'll go together.

Whatever you want.

Goodbye, my lady.

If anything was not as it
should be, please forgive me.

Everything was just right.

Don't cry.

Our days are passing.

What's to be done?

Hmm?

Well, if we live, we'll
meet again next summer.

Don't forget me.

Goodbye, ma'am, and
may God bless you.

Aw.

Remember me fondly.
Here's a ruble.

It's for the three of you.

My lady, for your trip.

Oh!

Thank you.

Thank you.

Oh, I think I forgot
my walking stick.

I know where it is. Excuse me.

-Excuse me.
-Don't be long.

Excuse me.

We're leaving.

-I'm sorry.
-It's all right.

We'll see each other again.

I've made up my mind
once and for all.

I'm going on the stage.

Tomorrow, I'll be
gone from here.

I'm leaving my father.
I'm leaving everything.

I'm going to start a new life.

I'm going to Moscow.

Sir, the carriage is waiting!

Stay at the Slavyansky Bazaar.

Let me know as
soon as you arrive.

-I have to go.
-Just another minute.

You're so beautiful.

Coming through.

Uh, I have your
carriage ready, sir.

Hi.

It's your brother.

Haven't we done enough already?

Come on. He didn't
ask you to stay.

I need to help Mama.
I'm not leaving.

Please, let's go home, Masha.

No.

I'm staying the night.

Masha, let's go. The
baby's probably hungry.

Go yourself. The nurse
will feed him anyway.

I'd rather spend the night.

Again?

So you'll come tomorrow, then?

Yes. Yes. Tomorrow.

My heart aches for you.

I'm not blind.

Please don't.

It's all ridiculous.

Unrequited love.

It only exists in novels.

You can't sit
around always hoping

that something will happen.

If you start to feel
love in your heart,

you've got to rip it out.

Who would have
thought, Konstantin,

that there was a
proper writer in you?

And now, thank the Lord,

you're starting to get
money from the magazines.

What do you want, Polina?

I want you to be nicer to
my little Masha, please.

Leave him alone, Mama.

-She's a good girl.
-Mama!

Women only require a kind
glance now and then, Kostya.

-Leave him alone!

-I should know.
-Now you've annoyed him.

What did you have
to bother him for?

Sorin asked that we
make up his bed in here.

-He wants to be close to Kostya.
-Yes, ma'am.

Thank you, Yakov.

Where's my sister?

Shamrayev went to the theatre.
She'll be here any minute.

I'm gonna miss this old world.

I wish...

I wish I had seen more of it.

No, don't talk nonsense.

Well, you've seen more
of it than I have.

What city did you like best

of all your travels?

Hmm.

Genoa.

Why Genoa?

Oh, when you walk out of
your hotel in the evening,

the streets are
swarming with people.

You drift along with the crowd

this way and that,
back and forth.

It's got a life of its own.

You become part of it,

body and soul.

You start to think

there really might be
a universal spirit,

like the one Nina
acted in your play.

Where is Nina now, Kostya?
How's she doing?

She's all right, I think.

I heard she'd been leading
a somewhat untidy life.

Nina's, uh...

It's a very long story.

Well, make it brief.

Well, she left home

and went to live with Boris,
so that much you know.

They had a baby,

who died.

Not long after, Boris
got tired of her.

He went back to his old
ties, as you might expect,

or rather he never
let go of them.

Having no backbone, he was
able to bend both ways.

And what about the stage?

She debuted in a theatre
outside of Moscow,

then left for a tour
of the provinces.

She took on all the big roles,

but she acted coarsely.

Tastelessly.

Lots of shrieking and
big, ugly gestures.

There were moments when
you could see her talent,

when she was crying or...

dying.

I tried to see her once
after a performance.

I waited at her stage
door like a beggar,

but she won't see anyone.

Oh, I think they're here.

Masha, come with me.

-Ma'am.
-Oh, Polina.

-Sir.
-Good evening.

-Masha.
-You recognised me.

-You're married now?
-Yes.

-You're happy?
-I'm married.

-Kostya.
-Hello, Mother.

Look at you.

-How is he?
-How am I?

They found it necessary
to write for you to come,

so I must be seriously ill.

Konstantin,

I have an idea for
your next story.

A good title for it would be,

'The Man Who Wanted To.'

Years ago, when I
was a young man, I...

I wanted to become a writer.

I never did.

I wanted...

I wanted to be a good speaker.
I was terrible.

I wanted to be married.

I never married.

I wanted to live in town,

and now I'm dying
in the country.

And there you have it.

Konstantin?

Your mother tells me you're
not angry with me anymore.

Boris brought the magazine
with your new story in it.

Show him.

That's very kind of you.
Thank you.

While Sorin is resting,
why don't we play a game?

-Should I get the lotto set, Mama?
-Yes, dear.

You have many fans in Moscow.

Everyone's always
asking about you.

And did you like the story?

I'm planning on reading it
on the train back to Moscow.

So you'll be leaving soon?

Tomorrow, probably.

Polina, how can I help?

I think we're ready.

Yes.

Boris, come.

We never played when you
were here in the summer.

We usually play lotto when
the long nights set in.

This is my mother's old set.

It's a stupid game, but after
a while, you don't notice.

Kostya. Shut the window.
It's drafty.

You should have heard the
reception they gave me tonight.

Oh!

My God, my head's
still spinning from it.

Are you in, Konstantin?

No, Mama. If you don't mind,
I'm going to work for a bit.

The stake is ten kopecks.

You'll put in for me,
won't you, Doctor?

Certainly.

-Have we all put in?
-I'm in.

Twenty-two.

The ovation went on and on.

Eighty-eight.

Three baskets of
flowers, two bouquets.

Thirty-four.

And how about this
marvellous ensemble?

Sunshine.

If I know nothing else,
I know how to dress.

Konstantin's playing.

He must be unhappy. Poor lad.

They've been having a go
at him in the newspapers.

Seventy-seven.

He can't seem to
find his own voice.

There's something oddly
unfocused about his writing.

Well, I believe in Konstantin.

There's something there.
He thinks in images.

His stories are striking. I'm
affected by them. Aren't you?

Can you believe I still haven't
read a word of his writing?

There's just never any time.

Eight.

Eighty-one.

Twenty-eight.

Twenty-six.

Lock the doors in
case anybody comes in.

Don't worry. No
one will come in.

I know your mother's here.
Lock the door.

Fourteen.

-Oh, come on.
-Twenty-six.

Twenty-six! Wait.

Ladies and gentlemen,
it's my game.

One away. I was just so close.

Your mother brought
him with her?

You know, if I lived
on a lake like this,

I might never write again.

Nina.

Nina, don't cry.

Ah!

So,

you're a real writer now.

And I'm an actress.

We both jumped into the fire.

I dreamed of glory,
and now look at me.

First thing tomorrow,
I'm off to Yelets.

Booked there for
the winter season.

Travelling third-class
with the peasants.

Why wouldn't you ever see me?

I thought you hated me.

I did.

Hate you.

I cursed you.

If you had any idea of what
my life has been like...

I do.

And none of that matters to me.

I don't have the power
to stop loving you.

Even now...

Now I've had success.

Without you, my life has been...

Please.

Stay here with me.

-Or let me come with you.
-No.

-Nina, what's wrong?
-You shouldn't still love me.

I should be killed.

Don't say that.

I'm so tired.

I need a rest.

I'm the seagull.

No, I'm an actress.

Nina...

You know, he laughed at me.

He made fun of my acting.

When I started on-stage, I...

God, I didn't... I didn't
know what to do with my hands.

I didn't know where to stand.

I couldn't... I couldn't
control my voice.

You have no idea how
it feels to be on-stage

and know how badly
you're acting.

You're a wonderful actress.

No, I'm the seagull.

I'm the seagull.

I'm the seagull!

-No.
-Nina. Nina...

No, it's not me. That's not me.

I've been walking and
walking and thinking,

and I know now that, for us,

what counts isn't dreaming
about fame and glory,

but it's about endurance.

It's about knowing how to keep
going in spite of everything.

Having faith in myself,

that's helped.

But what if

I have no faith in myself

or any clue where I'm going

or what I'm doing?

I have to go.

-I'm coming with you.
-No.

-Well, then stay here, please, Nina.
-No.

Nina, please, stay here.

-Stop asking me. I can't! I can't.
-Nina, please.

-I can't.
-Why?

Because I love him!

Because I still love him.

I love him more than before.

I have to go.

Remember how good it was before?

Everything was so
simple and clear.

Humans.

Lions.

-Eagles and partridges.
-Eagles and partridges.

-Horned deer.
-Deer.

Horned deer.

Yes.

Don't give me that look.

No, no, no.

You'll be scared, too,

when it's your turn.

The only people who can
fear death rationally

are those who believe
in life hereafter,

because they fear
retribution for their sins.

But you...

First, you don't believe.

And secondly, what sins?

You haven't done anything,

except spend 25 years in
the Department of Justice.

Twenty-eight.

All right, I have to
hand the cards out.

Sixteen.

Great.

Thirteen.

-Six.
-Thank you.

-I won.
-You won?

Yep.

-Thirty-seven.
-Don't go so fast.

Oh, Papa.

-Forty-five.
-Aw!

-Forty-five?
-Finally, some luck.

-This game is rigged.
-Ooh, going around again. Thirty-three.

-Lotto!
-Hold on.

Thirty.

-Eighty-one.
-Eighty-one.

Twenty-two.

Sixty.

Ah. This one will be mine, sir.

We'll see about that.

Let's have another
round, shall we?

Yes.

Thank you. Thank you.

Probably a little explosion
in my medical bag.

Nothing to worry about.

Happens all the time.

I'll go see.

Just as I thought.

A small bottle of
ether exploded.

-Oh, for...
-My apologies.

Everything went black for a moment.
I thought...

Sit down. I'll get the drinks.

Boris, can you help me?

I just... I wanted to ask you,

there's an article
in this magazine

that I'm curious to
get your opinion.

All lives,

all lives

all lives,

having accomplished
their doleful circle,

have died out.

Fourteen.

Already, thousands of
centuries have passed

since the Earth has borne
one living creature.

And in vain,

the poor moon shines her light.