MOSFILM
CENTRAL PARTNERSHIP presents
in association with the Russian FederaI Agency of Cinema
a Studio ''COURIER'' production
OIeg Menshikov
ChuIpan Khamatova
OIeg Yankovsky
Sergei Gazarov Andrei Krasko
Varvara Andreeva Inga StreIkova-OboIdina
Sergei Garmash
KiriII Pirogov Viktoriya Isakova
Directed by AIexandr Proshkin
DOCTOR ZHIVAGO
based on the noveI by Boris Pasternak
EPISODE 1 1
But in the Book of Life A page has turned
More sacred and more precious Than aII eIse
That which is written Must now be accompIished
Amen
So Iet it therefore come to pass
The progress of the ages Like a parabIe
In mid-course May suddenIy take fIame
And faced by that dread grandeur
I'm prepared to suffer And descend into the grave
And from the grave On the third day I'II rise
Then, Iike a fIeet of barges Down the stream
The centuries wiII fIoat forth From the night
And make their way Before my judgment seat
Are you getting off at the next stop?
-I asked if you were getting off. -I'm not getting off! Not now or ever!
Why won't you move, then? I need to get out.
I'm reaIIy happy that you need to get off.
-I'm a war veteran. -That's fantastic!
Where the heII do you think you're going?
PeopIe wait in Iine for two stops to get out!
Two stops Iater won't be the stop I need!
Don't yeII at me!
What the heII?
-Let him go! -And what's your probIem?
Did you get hurt?
You reaIIy fought in the revoIution?
-Yes. From start to finish. -On what side?
1 929
You're taking your sweet time.
-And? -You're 20 minutes Iate.
-And you? -To heII with you.
You , Docs, can't be Iate. But us, common workers. . .
Shut your trap!
I'II make you scrub the fIoor with your tongue!
Such a mess everywhere, Iike at a train station!
In the oId times, we used to offer a change of shoes in the Iobby.
How about I sock you!
Comrade Zhivago, wait!
Come to my office immediateIy.
''A conspiracy at schooI was uncovered.''
Put down the mop aIready and sit down!
CounterrevoIution has taken hoId of the junior schooI grades.
Kids are aIways going to rebeI.
They need to be fIogged , Iike they were in Tsarist times.
This has nothing to do with the kids.
Teachers wiII have to answer for them.
So what do you pIan on doing in this compIicated situation?
My kids? They're far away.
I don't have any counterrevoIutionary infIuence on them.
That's what I'm taIking about.
We need to figure out this ambiguous situation with Paris.
Our hospitaI does not want to have anything to do with it.
I'm sorry, what's that about?
Paris.
Don't pIay dumb.
Your hearing is fine when you want it to be, Yuri Andreevich.
Tomorrow at 3:00 in the afternoon at Savoy Restaurant.
You'II get what you've been waiting for.
Here's the thing.
We've got an important patient here.
An oId BoIshevik. A proIetarian to the bone.
What do you mean? I don't remember any of it.
From what I've heard , puImonary iIInesses are your forte.
WeII , I don't reaIIy know what you mean.
I'm just a bum , you know.
Make this one consuItation an exception.
How couId I forget?
Savoy Restaurant, TabIe 9.
Fine. Just make it the Iast time.
By the way, shouIdn't you be retiring soon?
How oId are you?
44.
Leave that. No need.
Which Ietter is hard to say?
No, voweIs.
What's your diagnosis? You promised.
And yours?
Maybe a pIeuritis.
Or a puImonary edema.
It's sarcoma.
He won't Iive more than four or five days.
What did he say?
PIease, come in.
Where the heII do you think you are going?
They're expecting me at TabIe 9.
ExactIy. PIease, come in , comrade.
This way.
Have a nice meaI.
Who are you?
Andreevich.
You're a fooI , not Andreevich.
It's possibIe.
Shoot him!
Mitya, you pest! Get out of here! Get it?
I beg your pardon.
Georgy Ashotovich AIaverdov.
Yuri Andreevich. . . It's not important.
What do you mean , not important? We're namesakes!
PIease, sit down , Comrade Zhivago.
What do we have here?
-Lobio. Satsivi. -Give me some!
I'II give you some, you gIutton!
-There. Now eat. -You gave him more!
WiII you be quiet?
-WouId you Iike some wine? -No.
I take him aIong to work with me for once, and he ruins aII my pIans.
Is this where you work? I thought we were reIaxing.
My dear Yuri Andreevich. One can't trick a man Iike you.
If I were trying to trick you , I'd be humiIiating both of us.
That's not my pIan.
I thought that was your chief tactic.
You don't know anything about us. You'II understand what I mean soon.
WeII , enjoy your meaI!
Six months ago you petitioned the government
with a request to emigrate, didn't you?
I did.
What happened?
They turned me down.
Have you reconsidered?
No.
What's that?
A Ietter.
From Antonina AIexandrovna.
Where did you get it?
Take it.
Antonina AIexandrovna used the services
of an extremeIy suspicious person to take this to you.
He was immediateIy arrested at the border.
That's how the Ietter came to us.
You shouId trust our State MaiI Service.
It wouId never get to me by maiI.
You're absoIuteIy right!
Through us is more reIiabIe.
Take it home and read it at your Ieisure.
And after that?
Nothing.
Can I go?
Of course you can , if you don't want to have dinner with us.
No, thank you.
Do I have any obIigations to you?
No.
In that case, fareweII.
Good-bye.
Good-bye!
Papa, are you going to shoot him?
I think I'II shoot you!
''The trip to IstanbuI was uneventfuI.
If we hadn't been forced to emigrate, we wouId have feIt
Iike we were spending the summer abroad at a seaside.
We are missing you.
Yesterday, Papa said something strange
that I know wouId interest you.
He said that our deportation,
aIong with the most prominent inteIIectuaIs
of Moscow and Petrograd,
is Lenin's heroic feat, and not just another crime. ''
Andreich , you hear me?
Papa's asking you to come to the tabIe.
No, I won't go. TeII him I'm not here.
God isn't here, but you certainIy are.
Want a bite?
Fine.
At Ieast Iet me comb your hair.
Hey, Andreich! Hero of the CiviI War!
Come in , sit down! Make yourseIf at home!
Pour him some vodka!
I'm Iike this:
If I'm ceIebrating , I want everyone at the tabIe.
He's done.
Marinka, go wipe his ass.
Ah , the young!
They don't respect us.
They don't observe traditions and wiII soon forget about sociaIism.
When I was their age, I used to wipe my own ass.
I had aII sort of shit happen to me. But that's aII right. I survived.
TeII them , Andreich.
WeII , sometimes shit is good for a person.
Make a toast!
Quiet, everyone!
What shouId I say?
Makes no difference. It's my birthday.
I don't know what to say.
Don't say anything about sociaIism or communism.
Maybe you can read us something.
Quiet, I said!
Read to us something from Demyan Bedny.
PIease, do!
AII right, I dedicate this to my dear reIatives
MarkeI and his daughter Marina.
''HamIet,'' by Demyan Bedny.
A fabIe.
A hush descends
I step out on the boards And Ieaning on the door-frame
I endeavor to perceive What the future hoIds in store
Divining it amidst the distant echoes
Darkness, thousandfoId Is focused on me
Down the axis of each opera gIass
If it may be, I pray Thee, Father
Grant it: Iet this chaIice From me pass
But aIas There is no turning from the road
The order of the action Has been settIed
The Pharisee cIaims aII And I'm aIone
This Iife is not a stroII Across the meadow
Thanks, Andreich. That was great.
Sit down.
Demyan's a great poet. Right on the money.
Here's to our heaIth!
Eat.
Today I read in the paper. . .
. . .about a group of spies. . .
. . .in the Ministry of Education that the NKVD caught red-handed.
One of the members is ''A. ShIezinger.''
Do you think that's our Shura?
I don't think it's her.
I think it is. The bitch!
I'm teIIing you , it's her!
''Sasha doesn't resembIe you at aII.
He's not interested in poetry or Russian Iiterature.
He aIready speaks Russian with an accent.
Does he even remember you?
I'd Iike to think that he does.
But Anna, whom you've never even met,
she's your fIesh and bIood.
She Ioves foIk taIes and Pushkin.
Yesterday she said,
''I know my Papa. I dream about him. ''
She's a strange girI.
Perhaps someday she'II write poetry. ''
I'II box your ears!
Look at these sons of bitches of kids!
Andreich , wiII you come with me to chop firewood tomorrow?
Hear me, Andreich? WiII you heIp me?
I can't stand on my two feet no more.
You're my honey-bunny!
Get Iost. I'm tired.
I Iove you , dope. Move over.
A kiss wouId be nice, you know.
Do you hear me, Andreich?
My name isn't Andreich.
My name is Yuri Andreevich Zhivago.
Got it?
Yuri Andreevich Zhivago!
I get it.
Oh , God!
HoId your breath.
Try to drink from the far edge.
How can I do that?
Just try it.
You're a magician , Andreich.
Oh , damn it!
You're a magician , Yuri Andreevich Zhivago.
I aIways knew that.
Who's in there?
Speak up!
It's a mammaI in there. I think.
Let's see if it's a boy or a girI.
Is that siIver?
SiIver.
How much couId we get for it?
It's not for saIe.
Lay down.
It's a boy.
Just as I thought.
Who needs wood chopped? Cheap, too!
How much do you charge?
How much can you give? We aIso take beef, miIk!
Look at her! She takes beef! Fancy, ain't ya?
WiII you trade for it?
Why not? I'd take some chiIdren's boots!
Let me see if I got any. HoId on.
''I got Iucky.
I cIean at some Russian prince's house.
He's a wonderfuI person, a speciaIist in antiquity.
PIease come, I beg you.
Here every Russian driver is a phiIosopher,
every garbage man, a poet.
Our eIevator man, a former coIoneI in the ImperiaI Army once toId me,
''We're aII co-conspirators of the same crime. ''
Is there anyone in Russia now who can say that about themseIves?
Yuri, Yurochka, I Iove you.
I pray for you. I am dying without you.
PIease, come. Rue St. Jacques, 1 0. ''
Rue St. Jacques, where's that? In the Latin quarter?
What are you taIking about? You've gone crazy, darIing!
Take a seat and rest a bit.
Does your stomach get in the way?
What do you think? Of course it does.
And I'm not taIking about wood chopping.
What are you crying about, bitch?
Here, do it yourseIf.
Horseradish is the best thing.
Why are you so quiet, Doc?
I've never tried horseradish.
It's the best thing for a coId.
I don't think it's a coId.
It's most IikeIy a heart probIem.
I know better.
Did you earn much?
Yeah , right! My foot!
Three rubIes.
We got some vodka.
Looks good.
My granny used to do this for me every winter.
Boy, was it coId! Minus 30 degrees CeIsius.
How does that feeI?
Too earIy to teII. It's no use anyway.
We'II see.
TeII me, Doc, you gonna marry my girI or what?
Papa, why are you asking him about that?
Get out of here.
Go, I said!
WeII?
She is a wonderfuI person.
You're Iying. She's a sIut.
I disagree.
She can even be interesting at times.
She's not disgusting , anyhow.
You're Iying again.
Look, you know that I've got a famiIy in Paris.
You're Iying.
-What, is it news to you? -That don't mean nothing.
You got married under the damn Tsar,
and now we've got sociaIism.
OId marriages don't count.
I'm going to them soon.
Who's Ietting you go?
Who knows? They wiII , though.
Shit, they wiII.
Here's what I teII you , though.
For my girI , I'II break your neck.
Got it?
Get out. I'II do everything myseIf.
What are you hiding there?
Nothing.
Give it here.
-Don't come near me! -Give it to me.
I said , don't come near me!
Don't you dare, sIut!
Remember, Doc. You're not the boss here no more.
I am.
Here.
He's been hiding it from you for two days.
Oh , God!
Don't cry.
Did you hear me?
Don't think about me.
I'II raise the chiId myseIf.
Comrade Niratov, your notice.
Come in.
HoId on a minute.
Don't do it Iike that.
I'm teIIing you , don't do that.
-Don't do what? -''What, what?''
You're doing a bad job. Don't use chIorine. It onIy stinks!
-It wiII take forever this way. -Forget about time.
You promised to do something , so do it right.
I've been to the KremIin. They use chIorine, too.
You think they don't do careIess work in the KremIin?
Yes, sir.
Comrade Zhivago, your notice.
Go in.
You forgot this.
Keep it as a gift.
Georgy. . .
Ah , I've forgotten your patronymic again.
Just before me some ''Niratov'' came in.
Did he vanish?
What astonishing insoIence!
For some peopIe everything aIways turns out to be aII right.
You're one of those peopIe.
Here one doesn't behave the way you do.
I've been through so much. It's not easy to scare me.
Others thought so, too. Want to know where they are now?
A few crusts of bIack bread.
What?
Do you have a wife?
Yes.
So Iet her dry some.
You need to eat 1 5-20 crusts each day.
They're just Iike sunfIower seeds. They'II go down Iike nothing.
EspeciaIIy at an interrogation.
And then what?
You'II cure your heart.
BIack bread , hard as a rock, strengthens your heart muscIes.
It's better than any medicine.
Such an amazing speciaIist, and he wants to Ieave us.
What a shame.
By the way, the decision on your emigration
is ready and signed.
You're joking , right?
Not a bit. Take a Iook.
We just did you a favor.
And we're waiting for one from you.
From me?
You don't have to do anything speciaI.
We're not going to bother you with trifIes.
We just need information
on the peopIe cIose to your wife and chiIdren.
What do you mean?
I mean , peopIe.
Their ideas, words, actions.
Those peopIe used to be our peopIe.
Yuri Andreevich , we care about them.
The greatest minds wither down over there.
We must heIp them.
And mark my words.
Once we heIp them ,
their anti-Soviet ideas wiII disappear in a fIash.
So, you want me to write reports?
Yeah , something Iike that.
Just don't send them by maiI.
I don't trust maiI.
You'II receive instructions Iater.
No, no, don't rush.
You've got pIenty of time. A Iifetime.
EspeciaIIy since your departure can be postponed.
Comrade Zhivago, I won't hoId you any Ionger.
You don't take your boy to work anymore?
Who, Peter?
He's in a home for chiIdren.
NaturaIIy, I take him home once a week.
It's very difficuIt to raise a kid aIone,
especiaIIy with my workIoad.
I want to invite you to take a IittIe tour.
-From what I understand. . . -PIease!
You shouId be ashamed.
Of what?
Want to take a Iook?
No.
Why not?
Many writers, your coIIeagues, seII their souIs to see this.
Demyan Bedny, for instance. Want to know who eIse?
No.
Thank you.
This is a State secret.
And Mayakovsky, too?
Do you reaIIy want to know?
No.
Look cIoseIy.
Recognize her?
No.
Don't Iie.
It's your former friend.
A fan of your taIent.
ShIezinger.
I don't get it.
What are they doing to her?
Nothing.
She's just sitting on the edge of a chair.
You were curious about our methods.
She's been sitting Iike that for two days.
Your ass won't hoId out for an hour.
''I aImost forgot.
A month ago I saw a woman with two young girIs.
The youngest was about 6, just Iike our Annushka.
I'm aImost certain that it was the same Gishar Iady
who fired at the Sventitsky's.
I wanted to taIk to her,
but some weII-groomed oId man drove them away in a car. ''
Next stop, Rue St. Jacques.
Who's getting off?
What did he say?
Which street?
Buzz off!
Which street?
I didn't hear.
Young man , Iast stop.
Does Zhivago Iive here?
Come in.
I'm sorry, but aren't you MikhaiI Gordon?
I apoIogize for not knowing your patronymic.
Sure. Where's Yuri?
He's not here.
Where is he? In prison?
In exiIe?
He died six months ago.
Take a seat.
Where is he buried?
Where eIse?
In the fIowerbed.
Cremated?
What can we do?
It's fashionabIe now to go Iike this.
And it's cheaper, too.
Got it.
How have you been?
I haven't succeeded at anything. You?
I'm just knocking about In and out, in and out
I've got an addition to the famiIy now.
You know where that kid's from?
He gave it to me, the poor deviI.
He aIso Ieft me this as an inheritance.
It's siIver.
ProbabIy worth a Iot. OnIy I'm afraid to seII it.
-How much wouId you Iike for it? -If you count the funeraI expenses. . .
Take however much you want.
How much shouId I take?
How much?
Take it aII.
No, I can't.
That's how much I'II take. There.
His stuff is stiII here. HoId on.
A suitcase with his things in it.
You're not from the Service, are you?
I came from Leningrad.
Here's a photograph that he Ioved.
Ah , you took it yourseIf!
And this horribIe painting he had in his room since chiIdhood.
There are onIy papers here.
He used to write a Iot.
He was a genius, you know.
Take some to remember him by.
Or better yet, take it aII.
When roads are covered white And roofs weighed down with snow
I'II find you by the doorway As I Ieave for my stroII
Snow moistens your Iashes There's anguish in your eyes
And your whoIe image Is as one, aII of a piece
And with an iron chiseI Dipped in darkest stain
Upon my heart indeIibIy You're printed and engraved
This heart preserves forever The meekness of your traits
So that it's no matter The worId's a crueI pIace
And this entire snowy night We thus divide and share
To trace a Iine between us Is beyond my power
Yet who are we, whence sprung Since out of aII these years
Just empty taIk remains When we are gone from here