Monsieur Komarovsky, will you...
I beg you.
Drop this affectation of addressing me as "Monsieur Komarovsky"!
Under the circumstances, I find it rather ridiculous.
Lara, I am determined to save you from a dreadful error.
There are two kinds of men, and only two. And that young man is one kind.
He is high-minded. He is pure.
He is the kind of man that the world pretends to look up to and despises.
He's the kind of man who breeds unhappiness, particularly in women.
- Do you understand? - No.
I think you do.
There's another kind.
Not high-minded. Not pure, but alive.
That your tastes at this time should incline toward the juvenile is understandable.
But, for you to marry that boy would be a disaster.
Because, there are two kinds of women.
There are two kinds of women and you, as we well know, are not the first kind.
You, my dear, are a slut.
I am not!
We'll see.
And, don't delude yourself that this was rape.
That would flatter us both.
The master's not at home, Miss Lara.
Not at home?
No. He went to the Sventytskis' Christmas party.
Are you going there, Miss?
Please don't say I told you.
No, thank you, Piotr.
Merry Christmas, Miss Lara.
Oh, thank you, and Merry Christmas to you.
Merry Christmas, Yuri Andreyevich.
What's the matter?
We had an appointment this evening. Where are you going?
Haven't you got the letter? I left a letter...
I've not been home. I'm going home, now.
Where're you going, Lara? I've a right to know.
What's in this letter?
Are you breaking...
- It's all in the letter. - What is?
Everything.
Don't!
Yuri, there's an extraordinary girl at this party.
I know. I'm dancing with her.
You're keen tonight, Victor.
I like to win.
Silence!
Silence, everybody! Silence, please!
I have a very delightful announcement to make.
Oh, Madame Sventytski!
Yes. Why not?
I have to announce that Dr. Yuri Zhivago...
Doctor Zhivago, he came third in all Moscow.
Now, listen, please!
Dr. Zhivago is betrothed in marriage to...
My dear Victor!
My dear man!
Get her out.
What?
Get her out. Get her out!
Yes. Yes. I'll get the police.
No!
I don't want you to get the police.
I do not want the police. I just want you to get her out!
Let her go!
Please!
Quiet, please. Please. Give way.
Please, would you mind?
Would you mind? Thank you, thank you.
Our destinies seem to be interwoven, don't they?
Yes.
I was a close friend of your father.
I knew you were his business partner.
Rather more than that. I was present at his death.
Also, I am in contact with your brother.
Yevgraf?
I should say I'm in contact with those who are in contact with him.
Oh, I disagree with Bolshevism.
Thank you.
You seem to know your trade.
But, I can still admire Bolsheviks, as men.
Shall I tell you why?
Yes.
They may win.
I'd like to meet him, Yevgraf.
He sent me a marvelous letter.
He likes my poetry.
That would have pleased your father.
Your father was not a bad man, Yuri. If I may call you Yuri?
I hardly knew him.
You perhaps may not credit this...
...but he was devoted to your mother.
I suppose I may continue to rely on your professional discretion?
You mean, will I tell anyone the truth about that girl?
That's what I mean, yes.
You may continue to rely on my professional etcetera.
You are fastidious, aren't you?
What happens to a girl like that, when a man like you is finished with her?
Interested?
I give her to you.
You shouldn't smoke. You've had a shock.
I give her to you, Yuri Andreyevich.
A wedding present.
Where have you seen that girl before?
What makes you think I've seen her before?
Haven't you?
- Yes. - Where?
I'm not supposed to say. It was on a case. Not very nice.
No, don't tell me, if you're not supposed to say.
In bourgeois terms It was a war between the Allies and Germany.
In Bolshevik terms It was a war between the Allied and the German upper classes.
And, which of them won was a matter of indifference.
I was ordered by the Party to enlist. I gave my name as Petrov.
They were shouting for victory all over Europe...
...praying for victory, to the same God.
My task, the Party's task, was to organize defeat.
From defeat would spring the Revolution.
And, the Revolution would be victory for us.
The Party looked to the conscript peasants...
...most of them wearing their first good pair of boots.
When the boots wore out, they'd be ready to listen.
When the time came, I was able to take 3 battalions with me out of the Front Line.
The best day's work I ever did.
But, for the moment, there was nothing to be done.
There were too many volunteers like me.
Mostly, It was mere hysteria.
But there were men with better motives, men who saw the times were critical...
...and wanted a man's part.
Good men, wasted.
Unhappy men, too.
Unhappy In their jobs.
Unhappy with their wives.
Doubting themselves.
Happy men don't volunteer.
They wait their turn and thank God If their age, or work, delays It.
The ones who got back home with the price of an arm or an eye or a leg...
...these were the lucky ones.
Even Comrade Lenin...
...underestimated both the anguish of that 900-mile-long front...
...and our cursed capacity for suffering.
By the second winter of the war...
...the boots had worn out...
...but the line still held.
Their great coats fell to pieces on their backs.
Their rations were Irregular.
Half of them went Into action without arms...
...led by men they didn't trust.
Come on, you bastards!
And, those they did trust...
Come on, Comrades. Come on!
Come on!
Comrades! Earthshakers!
Show them!
Charge!
At last they did what all the armies dreamed of doing:
They began to go home.
That was the beginning of the Revolution.
Deserters.
Replacements.
Tote arms!
Come back.
Stick together!
Stick together and we'll be all right.
And be ready for them.
Turn around, lads!
- Don't go any farther. - Come on, lads. Turn around.
Pigs to the slaughter! Look at you!
Turn around, lads.
Listen, lads.
Ten miles up that road are the Germans!
- Rubbish. - Not rubbish.
They're coming. And they're coming fast.
You've let them in.
They're coming for your wives...
...your houses, your country.
Your country, Officer!
Yes, my country! And proud...
Get back in your ranks!
Get back!
Get back in the ranks!
Are you a nurse?
Yes.
- Are you all right? - Yes.
Then help me.
Doctor, I ought to tell you, I'm not a trained nurse, I'm a volunteer.
I see. Right.
Why did you volunteer?
- I came here to find my husband. - Very gently.
- Have you ever seen an operation? - Yes.
We'll manage.
They're in the next village, brothers. The Germans.
- Your Honor... - Keep still.
Did you find your husband?
No.
Your Honor...
Yes, we'd better be off.
You know, you often look at me as though you knew me.
I have seen you. Four years ago. Christmas Eve.
Were you there?
No wonder you look at me.
Did you know Victor Komarovsky?
Yes, I did. That young man, who took you away...
My husband.
A lot of courage. He made the rest of us look very feeble.
As a matter of fact, I thought you both did.
Good man to shoot at.
I'd give anything never to have met him.
The tsar's in prison.
Lenin's in Moscow.
Civil war has started.
Good!
Civil war, good?
Not good, Comrade Nurse, inevitable.
But Lenin in Moscow!
This Lenin, will he be the new tsar then?
Listen, Daddy. No more tsars, no more masters.
Only workers in a worker's state. How about that?
Are you a doctor?
- Yes. - Follow me, please.
I can't deal with this.
Order of the Provisional Government. You'll have to try, friend.
"If you could see how hard we have been working here...
"...I feel sure you'd forgive me, dear, for not writing more regularly."
When was that written?
July 20th.
Eight weeks!
"But now the war seems really to have stopped.
"The hospital is emptying, and I shall have more time.
"I may even get time to write some verse, if I've not forgotten how to."
Oh, I do hope so!
"Larissa Antipova is still here, and I admire her more and more.
"She seems to have the strange gift of healing, which doctors don't believe in.
"She often does the wrong things, but it always seems to work out right.
"How is Uncle Alex?
- "Can he still get his English tobacco?" - Would that he could!
"Can Sasha say his letters yet? And how is Auntie Anna?"
He didn't get my letter.
"Most of all, my dearest, how are you?"
Strangely upsetting. He doesn't know she's dead.
Can't see what difference it makes.
They're at it again!
I wish they'd decide once and for all...
...which gang of hooligans constitutes the government of this country!
Cheer up, Sergei.
Don't you want to go home?
There's fighting at home, Your Honor. I've had enough.
Red Guards and White Guards, this old man's had enough.
Your Honor is a kind gentleman.
And, the nurse is a kind lady.
Finished?
Just about.
In a couple of weeks you'll be with your little girl.
If I can get on a train.
I want to be with Katya more than anything in the world.
Yes, of course.
But, now that we're going, I feel sad.
Sad.
Really sad.
- Well, we've been here some time. - Yes.
This must have been a lovely house, once.
Don't you think?
What are you going to do?
In Gradov?
Yes.
I'll be all right.
I wish I could think so.
You could run a laundry.
What will you do?
I suppose I'll go back to the hospital.
It's funny to think of you there.
I used to pass it on my way to school.
Do you ever come to Moscow?
From Gradov?
If only there were someone to look after you.
Of course, if there were, I'd be destroyed by jealousy.
Zhivago, don't.
My dear, don't, please!
Now, look what you've made me do.
We've been together six months, on the road and here...
...and we've not done anything you'll have to lie about to Tonya.
I don't want you to have to lie about me.
You understand that, Yuri?
You understand everything.
Come on, Comrades! I'm in a hurry.
Going home, Kuril?
Home, Your Excellency?
Petrograd. I'm joining the Red Guard.
What about your wife?
Sometimes, Comrade Nurse, women have to wait.
Right!
Goodbye, honored Doctor.
Want some advice?
- Said the millstone to the barley. - That's right.
Adapt yourself!
Goodbye, Durinev.
Goodbye, Your Honor.
Goodbye, Andr.
Goodbye, Simyon.
I'll never forget Your Honor.
Never!
Goodbye, Zhivago.
Goodbye. Thank you.
Pilenko.
Goodbye, brothers!
The doctor is a gentleman.
Right. Written all over him.
He's a good man.
God rot good men.
Yuri!
This is Comrade Yelkin, our local delegate. He lives here.
How do you do?
Welcome.
Comrade Kaprugina...
Welcome.
It's not for you to welcome us, Comrade.
Comrade Kaprugina is the chairman of the Residents' Committee.
- Yes, of course. - Your discharge papers?
Oh, yes.
I signed them myself, I'm afraid.
Holy Cross?
What?
- Holy Cross Hospital. It's on... - The Second Reformed Hospital.
Good. It needed reforming.
Medicals report to their place of work at once.
Yes. I believe there's typhus?
You've been listening to rumormongers, Comrade.
There is no typhus in our city.
Well, that's good news. I'll report tomorrow.
When you've started work, you'll get a ration book.
I've always worked.
Whatever is the matter?
You are.
There was living space for 13 families in this one house.
Yes. This is a better arrangement, Comrades.
More just.
Well, it is more just, Tonya. Why did it sound so funny?
Is it good to be home?
Sasha?
Who else?
It's your daddy, Sasha.
Sasha!
Naughty boy!
No, don't say that.
May I come in?
Watch carefully.
I am about to ignite the last half of the last cigar in Moscow.
Good meal?
- Very. - Say something.
That was very good, Tonya.
That was nothing.
She's been saving that salami for three months.
Have you, darling?
I got it for a clock.
She's a marvel. Coffee, you observe.
Stop it, Daddy. He knows I'm a marvel.
Did you write any poetry?
Quite a lot.
Is it good?
Yes, I think so.
Can I see it?
Well, of course.
What happened to Nurse Antipova? Your letters were full of her.
Yes, I suppose they were.
That's the girl who shot friend Komarovsky, isn't it?
Yes, Daddy. You know it is.
She's gone home to her little girl.
- Oh, we shan't see her then? - No.
What a pity!
Farewell, the pleasures of the flesh.
What I don't understand is how we're going to stay alive this winter.
You have no right whatever to call me from work.
As a Soviet deputy, I...
That gives you the power, not the right.
It's noticed, you know. Your attitude is noticed.
You should have called the area doctor.
I want this done quietly.
Why, what is it, typhus?
I'll take him away. Get me some transport.
It isn't typhus.
It's another disease we don't have in Moscow: Starvation.
That seems to give you satisfaction.
It would give me satisfaction to hear you admit it.
- Would it? Why? - Because it is so.
Your attitude is noticed, you know. Oh, yes, it's been noticed.
Hello.
The stove's out!
What's the matter with you? No wonder he's losing weight!
She lets it out as soon as you've gone, and she lights it before you come home.
We haven't enough fuel.
I told myself it was beneath my dignity to arrest a man for pilfering firewood.
But nothing ordered by the Party Is beneath the dignity of any man...
...and the Party was right.
One man desperate for a bit of fuel Is pathetic.
Five million people desperate for fuel will destroy a city.
That was the first time I ever saw my brother.
But, I knew him, and I knew that I would disobey the Party.
Perhaps It was the tie of blood between us, but I doubt It.
We were only half-tied, anyway, and brothers will betray a brother.
Indeed, as a policeman, I would say "Get hold of a man's brother...
"...and you're half way home."
Nor was It admiration for a better man than me.
I did admire him, but I didn't think he was a better man.
Besides, I've executed better men than me with a small pistol.
Now you'll have to live like the rest of us, Doctor.
Bring that! Bring that back!
Oh, listen to His Excellency!
I want no anarchy!
I want this carried out correctly.
What are you doing?
Re-allocation of living space, Comrade Doctor.
Fifty square meters for a family of less than five persons.
Dammit, whose house is this, anyway?
Father, be quiet!
All right, 50 square meters. What're you doing with my things?
They're being stored.
They're being stolen.
Just a minute!
And where did you get this?
I pulled it out of a fence.
I told them who I was.
The old man was hostile, the girl cautious.
My brother...
...seemed very pleased.
I think the girl was the only one who guessed at their position.
You're just as I imagined you. You're my political conscience.
I asked him hadn't he one of his own.
And so he talked about the Revolution.
You lay life on a table and you cut out all the tumors of injustice. Marvelous.
I told him If he felt like that he should join the Party.
Cutting out the tumors of injustice, that's a deep operation.
Someone must keep life alive while you do it.
By living.
Isn't that right?
I thought then It was wrong.
He told me what he thought about the Party and I trembled for him.
He approved of us, but for reasons which were subtle, like his verse.
Approval such as his could vanish overnight.
I told him so.
Of course, I can't approve this evening something you may do tomorrow.
He was walking about with a noose round his neck and didn't know.
So I told him what I had heard about his poems.
Not liked?
Not liked by whom?
Why not liked?
So I told him that.
Do you think it's "personal, petit-bourgeois and self indulgent"?
I lied.
But he believed me.
And It struck me through to see that my opinion mattered.
The girl knew what It meant, what It was going to mean.
They couldn't survive what was coming In the city.
I urged them to leave and live obscurely somewhere In the country...
...where they could keep themselves alive.
We have, used to have, an estate at Varykino, near Yuriatin.
The people know us there.
He didn't resist.
I offered to obtain permits, passes, warrants...
...told them what to take and what to leave behind.
I had the Impertinence to ask him for a volume of his poems.
And so we parted.
I think I even told him that we would meet again In better times.
But perhaps I didn't.
Fifty persons!
Fifty persons only!
Fifty persons!
Tonya, here!
Fifty persons only!
Get back!
Fifty persons only!
Fifty persons!
Only 50 persons!
Charming accommodation.
That's very good.
I'm an intellectual.
Shut up, you "intellectual."
Shut up, you lickspittle.
Forced labor.
Attention, Comrades.
Your train will leave tomorrow morning.
Health regulations for the journey:
Night soil will be emptied every morning without fail.
Straw to be replaced at ten day intervals and the old straw burned.
In the event of fresh straw being unavailable, old straw to be turned.
This is disinfectant. Use it.
In this wagon is a detachment of Voluntary Labor.
Liar.
You are required by Military Committee to show them all assistance.
One carriage is occupied by sailors of the heroic Kronstadt Sailors' Soviet.
So you'll be in good hands.
They're idiots.
Attention, Comrades.
In approximately 11 days' time you'll pass through the Urals province...
...where White Guard units, aided by foreign interventionists...
...and other criminal reactionary elements, have recently been active.
The Military Committee assures you...
...that the criminals have been completely routed in that area...
...by Red Guard units under the command of People's Commander Strelnikov.
There's a man.
Clap him.
The line is definitely clear.
Long live the Revolution!
Long live anarchy!
Lickspittle! Bureaucrat!
Is that necessary?
Six volunteers I've signed for, and six I'll deliver.
I'm a free man, lickspittle.
There's nothing you can do about it.
I'm the only free man on this train.
The rest of you are cattle.
Help me, brothers, for the love of God.
Come on!
Yuri, the child is dead.
It wasn't my child, dear...
...and his little soul's in Heaven now, that's certain.
Who did it, Comrade, the Whites?
The Whites?
No, Strelnikov.
Well, then, you must have done something.
It wasn't us, Comrade.
The commander said we'd sold horses to the Whites.
It wasn't us, it was those pigs in Kuniko.
We told him, but he didn't believe us.
I expect you were lying.
- As God's my witness. - But he isn't.
Commander Strelnikov is a great man.
A commander, Sasha, and he lives on bread and water.
Does he?
I don't know. They say so.
It's true.
No one knows where he comes from.
And they never know where he is.
- He's back up the line. - Yes?
Someone's for it.
Oh, really, not again!
What this time?
Never mind, Father. Get a good night's sleep.
I know what I'm going to do.
Look!
The Urals.
Look, Sasha, look. That's where we're going, darling.
Through the mountains and into the forest.
Then it'll be much warmer still.
Will there be wolves in the forest?
Strelnikov!
That's Strelnikov.