[Anna] Surely you understand
that she's becoming a young woman.
[Count] Yes, of course, it's not that, but...
nobody told me.
What, that children grow?
[Osip] You need to leave, now.
No, I can't go back.
- I have a wife to consider. - And a daughter.
[Osip] We all do what's necessary to survive
so our loved ones survive.
You once believed all people should have the opportunity
and freedom to become whatever they wanted in life.
[Count] Everyone has dreams, Mishka.
Only children believe them after they wake up.
We should all be silent.
Russian bread!
[Osip] You will never see your friend again.
This hotel is a dangerous place.
It's only going to get worse. Especially for you.
[Abashev] There's no sign of him.
[Bishop] Then we wait.
[church bell ringing]
[ringing continues]
[grunts softly]
[bells ringing]
[groans]
[indistinct chatter]
[light piano music playing]
Stop.
- I said stop! - [music stops]
♪ dramatic orchestral music ♪
♪
To our glorious leader...
Stalin.
- Stalin. - Stalin.
[train whistle blowing]
[P.A. announcement in Russian]
♪ dark music ♪
♪
[wind whistling]
♪ lush orchestral music ♪
♪
[indistinct chatter]
- When was Sofia due to finish? - Ten o'clock.
I expected them back over an hour ago.
Audrius, why don't we make
one of our fabulous cocktails
- to pass the time? - Yeah.
The Golden Rod would seem the obvious choice for the occasion.
Well, thank you, Richard,
but I-I really don't think that's very wise.
[Audrius] Yes, particularly as that was your wife on the phone,
wondering when you'd return to the embassy.
- Hmm. - Don't let me keep you, Richard.
- And give my love to Yvette. - [Audrius] Alexander.
[gasps] Oh.
Well, what happened?
Oh, it-it was the Mozart, wasn't it?
You should've followed your instincts
- and gone with the Rachmaninoff. - I won.
- You won? - [laughing] Yes.
You won? She won!
Oh, I knew it! I never doubted you for a second.
If only you could have heard it, Sasha.
And the applause!
It shook the dust from the chandeliers.
[Count] Oh, my wonderful, brilliant Sofia.
I wish I could have been there to see it.
I wish you could, too.
Notre champion! Emile has prepared your favorite.
A Dobos torte with chocolate cream.
[laughter]
[Marina] We were going to wait to see if you won,
but Emile was so sure,
just started baking anyway.
[Sofia] This is all too much. Thank you, everyone.
She hasn't told you the best bit yet.
What's this?
After the competition, they announced the winner
will join the Conservatory's tour of Europe. [laughs]
She's going to Paris, Prague and ending in Minsk.
[cheers and applause]
[playing Beethoven's "Für Elise"]
- There you go. - Thank you.
Thank you.
[plays bluesy variation of melody]
Sofia!
What's the problem?
It's just Beethoven.
- [playing bluesy melody] - [laughing]
Stalin banned the blues and he's gone, last I checked.
[playing blues]
♪
[laughing]
- Yes! - [applause]
[cheering and whooping]
Brava!
Hmm.
I should think...
beets would accompany the pork just as well as apples.
And half the cost.
Y-You would think that.
Have the menus changed.
There will be a private dinner for 20 people in suite 417,
the Saturday after next.
Party business.
And the Novikovs
will be in the restaurant later this week.
Give them a bottle of Domaine de la Roman-Cont
on the house, please.
You mean Domaine de la Romanée-Conti?
Inform them that it comes at the behest of the manager.
Go now.
[door opens]
You, stay.
Shut the door.
It's come to my attention
there was a playing of cosmopolitan music
in the Shalyapin bar three nights ago
by your daughter, Sofia Rostova.
I wasn't aware the works of Beethoven had been banned.
Beethoven?
Yes, "Für Elise" to be precise.
So the person who told me is lying?
No, no, I-I assume they maybe don't have a musical ear.
I won't have the playing
of degenerate music in my hotel.
I'll be sure to let Sofia know.
See that you do.
[wind whistling]
[busy chatter] - [light piano music playing]
Good lord, Richard, those look a little volatile.
I persuaded Audrius to make it with every spirit in the bar,
and challenged this lot
to see how many they could get down them.
[chuckles] Do you think that's wise?
I can barely hear myself think.
Neither can anyone else.
That is the point.
I am going to say some things.
Listen.
Keep smiling.
Since the war, relations between our two countries
may not have been especially chummy,
but they have been predictable.
Now Stalin is dead,
it is not entirely clear to us who is in charge.
And by us, you mean?
The United States of America.
Good lord, Richard.
All these years we've been friends--
And you didn't know I was an American?
I didn't know that you were a-a spy--
Don't be so dramatic. I am...
an observant conversationalist.
Nothing more.
Now, it could be Russia's doors
are about to be flung open to the world,
or they could be slammed shut and bolted from the inside.
Well, we must hope for the former.
Absolutely.
But prepare for the latter.
What exactly is it you want from me?
A meeting of the highest-ranking Soviet leaders
will be held in this hotel next week.
We understand an important announcement is to be made.
Oh, no, Richard, please.
We would like you to be there to tell us what it's about.
I will not spy on my country.
Sofia will never have the life she deserves
in this country.
We were just talking about Russia throwing its doors open.
If it happens.
But change is slow.
Too slow for her.
Help me, and I will see to it that Sofia's trip to Paris
is nothing more than a stopover to America
and a whole new life.
♪ tense, moody music ♪
I'll see you around.
♪
It's all...
all white.
Oh, my orchard.
After the dark autumns and cold winters,
you are young again,
full of happiness,
the angels of heaven haven't left you.
Oh, if I could only take my heavy burden
off my breast and shoulders, if I could forget my past.
[Count] Yes, and they'll sell this orchard to pay off debts.
Strange as it seems.
Look.
There's my dead mother going in the orchard.
Dressed in white.
- That's she. - Where?
- [laughing] - [Count] Oh.
- Learn them on your own. - I'm sorry.
It's just impossible to take you seriously.
Something the matter?
I suppose Richard Vanderwhile gave you this.
Your daughter, actually.
What the devil is a "convenience"?
Dishwashing machines, toasters, televisions,
clothes-washing machines, vacuum cleaners.
I somehow struggle to imagine you wielding a vacuum cleaner.
And what on earth is an automatic garage door?
It is a garage door
that opens and closes itself on your behalf.
What do you think of that?
[Count] I think, if I were a garage door,
I would rather long for the old days.
Would you like to live in America?
Everyone wishes they could live in America.
Well, that's certainly not true of me.
Because you are fatally Russian,
you can't see past the love of your country.
I'd love to go there.
They may not have much
in the way of theater or culture, but...
they're free to play whatever music they choose.
Say what they think. Go where they want.
And let's not forget the conveniences.
I'll tell you what's convenient.
Is to sleep until midday
and have someone bring you your breakfast on a tray.
To cancel a meeting at the last minute.
To stay clear of marriage in your youth and
to put off having children altogether.
These are some of the greatest conveniences.
And there was a time when I had them all.
But, at the end of the day,
it's the inconveniences that have mattered the most to me.
Only because you've been locked up in the most convenient place.
You didn't have to endure what the rest of Russia did.
[phone ringing]
Yes?
He's here with me now.
[indistinct chatter]
All right, all right, all right.
Mishka? Mishka. It's Alexander.
Mishka, look at me. Look at me.
Mishka.
It's me.
Help me get him inside.
We've got to get him warm. Come on.
Get him out of this cold. Come on.
[all grunt]
He's still sleeping.
The soles of his boots are all thin.
He must've walked hundreds of miles.
From where?
Which prison camp was he in?
Oh, he didn't say. He's barely speaking.
Are you thinking about your parents?
Trying not to. I should go to rehearsal.
Would you rather stay at home today?
I'd rather keep busy.
Sofia.
Manager Leplevsky spoke to me yesterday
- about the music you were-- - It was Beethoven, Papa.
[door opens]
[groaning]
My dear friend.
[grunts]
How long have I been asleep?
Last night and all of today.
[grunts]
I tried to get you to sleep on the chair,
but you preferred the floor.
It's what I'm used to.
I have some fruit and...
[munching]
I lost my manners.
What little I had.
Where have you been?
I arrived by a train from Yavas last night.
We traveled together.
Wandering.
Lost.
We? Who is that? Your-your comrades?
Comrades?
There are no comrades.
My fellow prisoners.
I'm sorry.
I have nowhere else to go.
Oh, of course.
Of course.
Let me get you some water.
Here.
[crying]
It's all right.
You're all right.
Yes.
[wincing]
[light chatter] - [string music playing]
[Maria] The Novikovs won't even look at us.
He wants my job.
I'd be no different.
We appear strong,
then we are strong.
Mr. and Mrs. Glebnikov, it's been some time.
If you'd follow me, I've saved you the best table in the house.
If you would like a drink.
Have you anything from east Georgia?
Bottle of Rkatsiteli maybe.
- I'd have to check our cellar. - Then do so.
I'll be back.
[whispers] Don't let them see your fear.
[whispers] I've had enough practice over the years.
[bottles clinking]
[clears throat]
Guests are not normally permitted down here.
Gladly make an exception, of course, for you.
The leadership of the country
will be meeting here at the hotel next week.
I'd like to know who attends and what's discussed.
I'm not sure how I can help.
There are things I've done for you in the past, for Sofia.
And I'm eager to show my gratitude.
Then show it.
Being locked up here,
I see very little.
I read the newspapers, of course, but...
it's impossible to truly get an idea of what's happening
in this country of ours.
And what it will become without Stalin.
My immediate superiors have already been...
...excised.
If Khrushchev takes control,
everyone associated with the old order will meet the same fate.
If it's Malenkov, well, he's more likely
to keep things as they are.
And there is a chance for me and Maria.
I'll do what I can.
♪ low, somber music ♪
Thank you.
That'll do nicely.
[Sofia] What was it like?
[fire crackling]
How long were you there?
My parents were sent to Siberia.
When they opened the gulags, I did hope they might come back.
No one comes back.
Parts of them do.
I'm sorry.
[footsteps approaching]
- [door opens] - [Count] Oh.
Sofia,
you should get yourself to bed.
So you're fresh for tomorrow. It's getting late.
Good night, Papa.
Good night, Sofia.
Good night, Uncle Mishka.
I brought you something from the kitchen, Mishka.
It was the people. We burned it down.
What did you burn down?
Moscow. Russia.
Napoleon took the city,
and our people burned it down.
Uh, are you talking about 1812?
Right in front of his eyes. Can you imagine?
You are safe here, you know, with me.
The two of us can grow old together.
We can talk late into the night
and tell lies about our younger years.
Sounds a wonderful dream.
I wanted to tell you. Uh...
What did you want to tell me?
It's gone.
I'm going to look after you, Mishka.
You're going to get better.
We'll get you some new clothes.
You can start all over again.
- Tomorrow. - There is no tomorrow.
Not for me.
♪ "Vocalise" by Rachmaninoff ♪
♪
[muffled] Let me introduce you to Mikhail Fyodorovich Mindich.
The best of men and my oldest friend.
I've heard so many wonderful things about you.
A pleasure, Mikhail.
Oh! Nikolai Petrov,
as I live and breathe!
[distorted] "Prince Nikolai Petrov" to you.
- [gunshot] - [laughs]
[piano playing]
[Count] Nina.
[Older Nina] What I need is for someone to watch over Sofia
while I get settled.
♪
[Young Nina] I found a way to escape.
[Helena] It won't bring her back, Sasha.
♪ low, ominous music ♪
[wind whistling]
♪
[playing piano faintly]
♪ low, ominous music ♪
♪
[fire crackling]
♪
[yelling inaudibly]
Sofia!
[gasping]
[panting]
Oh.
Snow filled the air of the piazza.
Only... [stammers]
it wasn't snow. It was... ash
and embers from the city, which was burning to the ground.
Mishka had been speaking to me about the burning of Moscow.
He gave every part of himself to this country.
And it destroyed him.
And Nina, too.
That...
precious little girl.
That brilliant, bright light,
carelessly snuffed out.
I won't accept that that could happen to Sofia.
I can't allow it to happen to her.
However heartbreaking it might be,
- we have to-- - We have to let her go.
Richard came to my dressing room after the play.
Then you understand why we cannot...
associate with one another anymore.
"Associate"?
Is that what we've been doing all this time?
Oh, Anna, don't make this any harder than it already is.
- If I get caught-- - Which you will be.
You have very little faith in my abilities.
It has nothing to do with your abilities.
When Sofia doesn't come back from Paris,
they'll know the part you played.
They'll know where to find you.
So you should stay as far away as possible from me.
They'll kill you.
After they torture you first.
The last thing that I want is for you to be involved.
Oh, you fool.
I am involved.
I've been involved for 30 years.
I love you.
You...
...what?
I'm not going to repeat it.
Whatever happens...
...we face it together.
♪ soaring, optimistic music ♪
♪
[door closes]
[quietly] You don't expect him to wear that?
[Richard] I understand your concern,
but my superiors insisted. Or there's no deal.
No, it's all right, Anna.
How do I get the tapes to you?
Sofia must bring them to Paris
and then deliver them to the embassy, where I'll be waiting.
When are you leaving?
Tonight.
So your country doesn't have to face the embarrassment
of having one of your own locked up, should this go wrong.
[sighs]
My dear Alexander,
this isn't something you should undertake lightly.
Stalin may be gone, but be under no illusion--
- if you're caught-- - We're well aware
of what the consequences would be.
[Richard] Let me show you how this all works.
This is the most popular watch in the USSR
and approved by Stalin himself.
The microphone is activated the moment the wire is pushed in.
Then it'll start recording.
You'll see the second hand moving.
Pull it out and it stops.
I should just about manage that.
♪ low, tense music ♪
♪
[indistinct chatter]
[Bishop] Sofia.
A word in my office.
[door opens]
You'll have noticed the increased security in the hotel.
We've important guests.
So...
I want to go through the music that you're going to be playing
in the piazza this evening.
Shut the door.
Prokofiev's Piano Concerto No. 2.
It was written after he turned his back on the Revolution.
[Sofia] His music will outlive the both of us.
There was another girl who used to stay in this hotel.
Nina Kulikova.
Does the name mean anything to you?
She's my mother.
Such a pity.
I want you to know that I did everything I could...
for her.
What do you mean?
I warned her father that she was in danger of...
being led astray. And to his credit,
he did send her away to a school to be educated, but...
unfortunately,
her corrupt nature
- and moral bankruptcy... - Stop it.
...meant it was inevitable that she would rebel.
You don't know the first thing about her.
I think I know more than you.
I know your parents were both found guilty
of anti-Soviet corruption and they were sent
to a camp that they never came back from.
Why would you tell me that?
Sorry.
Didn't mean to upset you.
♪ slow, suspenseful music ♪
♪
[Count groans softly]
What will you do?
Sofia's playing in the piazza this evening.
I didn't want to arouse suspicion by changing our plans.
Well, I won't finish till after midnight. If I--
There's not going to be an "if."
Don't let there be an "if."
They've questioned you.
Tell them you've always been
concerned about my friendship with Richard.
Don't resist.
Don't get caught.
♪ slow, suspenseful music ♪
♪
Good evening, Andrey.
And good evening to you, sir.
I'm one of your waiters for this evening.
Raise your hands.
Thank you.
[exhales slowly]
[indistinct chatter]
♪ dramatic, pulsing music ♪
♪
Sofia?
- I'm fine. - You're clearly not.
Tell me what it is.
What do you think? This place, all of it.
I can't even breathe.
They killed my parents.
I won't do it anymore.
Sofia, not tonight, trust me. Trust your father.
Whatever it is you're thinking of doing--
Excuse me.
The music's supposed to have started by now.
♪
[playing Debussy's "Clair du Lune"]
♪
Sofia, apologies for interrupting
that performance, but given the audience
that we have this evening, perhaps something more patriotic
might be in order?
The State Anthem... perhaps?
Comrades, who would like to hear our Anthem?
- [all] Yes. - [Bishop laughs]
Unless you have some objection on political grounds?
♪ tense, eerie music ♪
♪
[State Anthem playing]
♪
[plays blues fill in minor key]
♪
[playing traditional State Anthem]
♪
♪ pulsing, mysterious music ♪
♪
[soft static]
[static]
[bug detector squealing]
♪
[static]
[bug detector squealing]
[static]
[man] Be still, my beating heart.
[men shout in unison]
[indistinct chatter]
[soft, distant static]
[static]
♪ tense music ♪
♪
[squealing]
[sighs]
♪
[indistinct chatter continues]
[speaking indistinctly]
♪
[speaking indistinctly]
♪
[lively crowd chatter]
It's Khrushchev.
I understand now how you must have felt
after the Revolution.
Will you run?
There's nowhere for someone like me to go.
He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword.
Who was that? Shakespeare?
Uh, Gospel of Matthew.
You think I deserve everything that comes my way?
I hope you are afforded the fair justice
that you denied so many others.
All those people.
They were somebody's child,
somebody's mother, father.
Someone's friend.
What was it all for?
That's an easy question to ask now.
Harder at the time.
No matter. It's done.
[footsteps retreating]
[wind whistling]
♪ slow, melancholy music ♪
♪
[Count] W-When did he leave?
[Sofia] About an hour ago.
He-he left this.
This is 1913, the year we graduated.
[Sofia] Where is our purpose now?
Mishka wrote this poem in the south parlor at Idlehour.
It was in the time when it was still dangerous
to write poems of political impatience.
Given his background, we decided
that it should be published in my name.
The irony is, years later, when I was due to be executed,
they spared me because they thought I'd written this poem.
Mm, Mishka,
my dear, dear friend.
When he left, I asked him where he was going,
but he just said, "Does it matter?"
♪ slow, somber music ♪
♪
♪ soaring, melancholy music ♪
♪
It's time to get out of this madhouse.
♪
[wind howling]
♪ atmospheric music ♪
♪