Radio Moscow. Director Andreyev. What is it?
Seventeen minutes.
Yes, of course I can ring back in 17 minutes.
Yeah.
Mm-hm. Yes, I'm writing it down.
I can't get the...
One, five...
Sorry? Was that a nine, as in "fine"?
Or... or another five as in, um...
- "Hive." - ..."hive"?
Hello? Hello?
- Hive? - Who was it?
The Secretariat of the General Secretariat.
Of the General Secretary. The Secretary of the General...
Stalin?
Turn that down.
Put that apple down.
You're always eating bloody apples.
I'm to call him back in 17 minutes.
Seventeen minutes from when you picked up the phone
or from when you put it down?
Seventeen minutes from when I said I'd call back in 17 minutes.
- When was that? - I don't know.
Thirty seconds ago?
- A minute? - Well, which one?
- A minute. - A minute?
A minute.
- You sure? - No.
Well, well, well.
Oh, I put Shteyman on the list, the writer.
- I know you like his work, but... - No, leave him on.
And, uh... Shteyman two, his wife?
On.
They're a couple, ain't they?
We're talking about Stalingrad, how cold it was,
and we would do anything, anything, to warm ourselves up.
We'd throw live grenades to each other.
We'd pull the pin, throw it to the prisoners.
They'd be jumping around like drunken whores. "Oh, oh, oh!"
What was the grenade?
- A grenade. - Georgy.
- A grenade... what do you... - No no no.
You're obstructing the story. Let him tell it.
So, ten past, the call came in.
- Seventeen minutes... - So call back 10:27?
- Yeah. - You don't seem confident.
Well, I wasn't the one on the phone.
And it was definitely a nine, wasn't it?
- I wasn't the one on the phone. - You keep saying that.
- It's not helping. - I wasn't, though. So...
A grenade in his mouth!
- Always cracks me up, this one. - And then boom!
I'll have these dispatched.
That's how you turn a Prussian into a bowl of soup.
Oh, there he goes.
Yes, we see your list, Beria.
Shoot her before him, but make sure he sees it.
Oh, and this one... um...
Kill him, take him to his church, dump him in the pulpit.
And I'll leave the rest up to you.
Let's go!
First three names on list. Top name, apartment 15. Go.
Go, go.
Come on. Where are you going? Get round here. Get on the bus.
Comrade, it's the greatest honour.
He can't see me bow.
- Comrade Director. - Oh, shit.
Five... nine.
Hello.
This is Stalin.
Bravo!
Sorry. It's really noisy. I'm sorry about that.
How are you? How is it wherever you are?
Sorry. Sorry again.
- Are you there? - Receiving you.
I want a recording of tonight's performance.
I'll send someone to pick it up.
I think you split a couple of notes.
You cheeky bugger. I did not.
- How was it? Was it good? - I thought wonderful.
Was the concerto recorded?
Was it recorded? Please say yes.
- Erm... no. It went out live. - Stay. Stay.
Okay, nobody leave! Nobody leave! Lock the doors! Lock those doors!
If you wouldn't mind just taking your seats again.
That would be fantastic.
Take your seats. Take your fucking seats.
Don't worry, nobody's gonna get killed, I promise you.
This is just a musical emergency.
Take your seats. That's it.
Nobody be alarmed. It's fine.
Sit down! Do not defy me!
Sit your arses down!
Top me up. Everybody drinks.
As I was saying, we had this 12-year-old scout.
His whole family was wiped out by the Krauts.
But before that he taught us this trick. He taught us this trick.
He taught us this trick. If you stick somebody's little finger
in a glass of water while they're sleeping,
they wet themselves.
Here, what next?
You stick a bar of chocolate
in their pocket, they shit their pants?
But it's biology, Chief. We did it to Polnikov in Stalingrad.
But, anyway, "shit your pants", that's great.
Whatever became of Polnikov?
You wanna know where fucking Polnikov is?
You wanna go there?
I love that grenade story.
- Oh, is there one in your pocket? - No, no, come on. No, not again!
No, don't you...
God damn it!
Caught red-handed.
Well, I would die for the Motherland!
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Take this, you bastards!
All right, let's get going.
Time for a cowboy movie. Who's in my posse?
Here we go. He rides out, he gets shot off his horse.
Adios.
Thank you very much. It's gonna be okay.
Sit where you sat before.
Right, what do you think?
Well, half the audience have gone. The acoustic will be very lively.
Go and get some more people in off the street.
Fat ones, so we don't need as many.
Really? How fat?
I could get my wife. She'd deaden the acoustic.
Comrades... Comrades, shut up!
I have wonderful news.
Comrade Stalin loved tonight's concerto
and would like a recording of it right away,
which we don't have, for reasons that are myriad and complex and...
But meanwhile the concerto we just played will be played again.
And this time we will record it and we will applaud it.
Yes. Yes.
Brilliant. Okay.
Excuse me.
I won't do it.
Come on, through here. In you come.
Sit down. Sit down.
You, Joan of Arc, do you want to get killed?
Like my father got killed, my brother? Like that?
- But they would want you to live. - I won't do it. You can't force me.
- Can't we just get another pianist? - That would be ridiculous.
The sound would be completely different.
- Even Stalin could... - Even?
- I didn't mean... - Even Stalin?
I hope this office isn't bugged.
Of course Comrade Stalin would be able to tell the difference.
He's a great man with a great ear.
- Two great ears. - Sharp. They're sharp.
- The sharpest ears in the... - In the Soviet Union.
Maria Veniaminovna, you have to play.
I didn't... I didn't mean what I said.
So you said it, then?
As God is my witness, I won't do it. The Lord will see me through.
10,000 roubles.
20,000.
Done. Let's go.
Ohh!
What the fuck?
What fucking brainless fire-safety fucking idiot put that there?
Now we need a new conductor. Let's go.
Which one's your father in?
Thank you. You've been very helpful. Follow me.
Open up!
Let's get these on the bus.
Keep it moving! We've still got things to do!
Come on, move!
I love you. I love you.
Now, you say whatever you have to say to them. You say it.
Oh, God.
Hello. Hi.
Deepest apologies, sir.
Radio Moscow requests your presence immediately, please.
You're Moscow's finest and nearest conductor, so... we must hurry.
I rather enjoyed your reference to Polnikov this evening.
Stalin looked like he was gonna split your head open.
"What became of Polnikov and Trotsky? I was a huge fan of his."
"I miss the Tsar."
I'm exhausted. I can't remember who's alive and who isn't.
Georgy, when you go home, make sure your wife writes down
everything you think you said tonight.
All right, this way in the morning you know what you're dealing with.
That's Khrushchev's Law.
Good night, comrades. Long live the Communist Party of Lenin-Stalin.
Long live John Wayne and John Ford.
Goodbye, Molotov, old friend.
Goodbye forever.
Yeah. On the list.
It would be simpler and cheaper
if they just drove straight into a river.
Sweet dreams.
Good night.
Night.
People in off the streets.
Just this way.
I don't think any of these people have ever heard of Mozart.
I made a joke about the farmers.
- Did Stalin laugh? - Yeah.
I made a joke about the navy.
- No laugh. - No more navy jokes.
Good evening.
Get this lot checked in.
Good. Nice.
Long live Stalin!
- Shouldn't we check it? - No time.
If it's not okay, then Stalin's men will chop you into dog meat.
Thank you.
Move, move, move, move, move. Excuse me. Thank you.
I have it. I have it.
I have the recording. I just had to get a new sleeve, a white one.
The delay has been logged.
I wish to convey a special message from my heart.
I wish to convey this recording to Comrade Stalin.
I want Comrade Stalin to know
the full intensity of my feelings for him.
No, this is unauthorised narcissism.
No.
The item is now in my possession... after a significant delay.
Note the time.
What took you so long? You fucking walk here?
Josef Vissarionovich Stalin,
you have betrayed our nation and destroyed its people.
I pray for your end, and ask the Lord to forgive you.
Tyrant.
Oh, fuck. Fuck...
Should we investigate?
Should you shut the fuck up before you get us both killed?
Good morning.
Well?
Comrade Stalin?
I just need some names.
Each name you give me is one less bit of you I'll cut off.
Enter.
Sorry to interrupt, Comrade Minister. It's Comrade Stalin.
Oh, don't worry about him. Those ears are full of blood anyway.
Comrade Stalin is very ill.
Very ill?
Yes.
Uh-huh.
- You, carry on. - Of course.
Tell them Beria is on his way.
They are to touch nothing, call no-one. Understood?
Tell me you understand my instructions.
I understand your instructions.
Good.
Shh, shh.
What's your name, Lieutenant?
S-Slimonov, sir.
S-Slimonov?
Be here when I g-get back.
Long live Stalin!
- Abramovsky still holding out? - Yeah. He's close, though.
He was close yesterday.
Long live Stalin!
Have his wife move into the next cell
and start working on her until he talks.
Make it noisy.
Shame. Mrs Abramovsky's been most cooperative so far.
Some women will do anything to get their husbands released.
Yeah, and she did everything.
I thank the Union for bringing me so many devoted wives
who fuck like sewing machines.
Glasses.
To his dacha. Urgently.
Tanks, farmers, navy,
grenade. funny.
Beria, tomato, pocket: funny. Horse...
- Funny? - ...slippers. question mark.
- Farmers, horse again, navy... - There were no whores.
What are you writing? Oh, "horse". Is this in code?
This is your drunken nonsense, not mine. Don't blame my notes.
"Molotov C-H-H-H..."
Was I stuttering? What is that?
Molotov...
Oh. It's Molotov...
- He's on the list. - Poor Molotov.
First his wife, now him.
Georgy is off in a hurry somewhere.
Something's happening.
Hello?
What?
Get my trousers.
Just get my... No, not you.
Who's there? Is Beria there?
Never mind. I'll be right there.
Your trousers. Your trousers. Here are your trousers.
- Okay, okay. - Let me take your pyjamas.
No, there's no time. Get my shoes, please, Nina, my shoes.
- Your shirt. - Send me a shirt and tie.
Were you on duty when he was found?
- Yes, sir. - No-one is to come in. Understood?
Yes, sir.
Remain at your stations.
Oh, God.
They told me not to get a doctor.
You did well, Matryona Petrovna.
The Central Committee will handle things now.
- So they'll get a doctor? - There are procedures in place.
- So you'll get a doctor? - I am the doctor.
I'll see to everything. Come on.
Go on. He'll be fine.
Smells like a Baku pisshouse in here.
Greetings, by the way.
Oh, shit.
Uh-huh.
Oh, come on. Fuck!
Khrustalyov! Khrustalyov!
- Take the papers. - Let them go.
Take the papers or I'll cut your eyes out one at a time
so you can watch it happening!
- Drop it. - Take them!
Come in.
Oh, my God.
Is this... I'm guessing that this is...
Yeah, he's feeling unwell, clearly.
He's irreplaceable.
How can we possibly...
All right, we must think of the people.
As Acting General Secretary, I must step up.
I must... I must take his place while he's... on the floor.
But you just said he's irreplaceable.
Irreplaceable. Take his place as in
assembling the Central Committee, of course.
Good. I was testing you. Get used to that sort of challenge.
So, what next, boss?
We should... We should get a doctor.
Yeah...
Yes. If only we hadn't...
put away all those highly competent doctors for treason.
- You remember? - Yes, I do. I do.
You know, they were plotting to poison him.
Yes, that's right. You collected the evidence.
Yes, I did. I did. Are you still testing me?
Oh, this is calamity!
Calamity!
Ah! Ohh...
Oh.
Oh-oh-oh, no!
Oh, he's on the floor. He's on the fucking floor!
Okay, be careful, careful.
Oh, what to do? Oh, what to do?
My heart, it feels sick...
like it's going into battle.
Which doctor have you called?
Well, the subject's currently under discussion.
As Acting General Secretary,
I think that, well, the Committee should decide.
The Committee?
But our actual General Secretary is lying in a puddle of indignity.
I mean, I think he's saying, "Get me a doctor now."
No, I don't agree. I think we should wait until we're quorate.
Quorate? The room is only 75 percent conscious!
- Are you wearing pyjamas? - Yeah. So?
- Why? - Because I act, Lavrenti.
Decisively and with great speed.
I said you'd be tested
and now you're being tested by a shouting man in pyjamas.
Have you got a nappy under those too? Too late for him.
Out of my way, you fannies.
Shit.
Where's the big fella?
Are we late?
Sorry.
He can't go, not like this.
- Careful. Careful. - Whoa, whoa.
It's wet.
- So, was Beria here first? - Yeah, what do you think?
This can't be happening. This can't be fucking...
No, that's wet. For God's sake.
You got here quick, comrade.
I didn't stop to put on cologne.
Hey, watch the suit. Watch the suit.
Compelling drama, gentlemen, but we do need to get him into bed.
- You take the head. - Why?
- You're Acting General Secretary. - I would be honoured.
It's just me here kneeling in the piss, yeah?
- Why don't you... - But, there's piss...
- Come on. - It is better. It's more balanced.
Yeah? Well, you can pay my laundry bill, then.
You're not auditioning for the Bolshoi.
- Who are you, Nijinsky? Come on. - I have a bad back.
Too much social climbing, I expect.
- The head is the heaviest part. - All right, ready?
- Three, two... - Two.
One.
Lift. Jesus.
- God. - Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
- To me. - Turn, turn, turn.
- This way. There we go. - Yeah, all right.
Are you wearing pyjamas?
Can we just stop twittering
like fishwives at the market and concentrate?
- Whoa, whoa, whoa. - Open the door. Back up, back up.
No, no, that way.
Go. Right, go.
- Get back to the kitchen now! - Move!
- Now. Now.
He's heavier than I thought he'd be.
- Do you think Stalin's too heavy? - No, it's a compliment.
- Gold is heavy. - Well, you'd know.
You've looted enough of it, you saucy little pirate.
Get back in the dining room!
- Right, this one. This way, this way. - Stop using his feet.
- I'm sorry. - Can we just put him down?
- I'm absolutely soaked. - Lamp. Lamp, lamp.
- Out of the way. - No, wait a minute... move, move.
Mikoyan, move out of the way, quickly.
- I can't, I can't. - Fucking hell!
- Fuck. Jesus Christ! - Turn him over.
Fuck me! Three fittings I had for this suit. Three.
He looks ready now.
- I need a vodka. - I need a wash.
But we didn't drop him. Well done, us.
Oh, I still got fucking tomato in my pocket.
It's still funny.
All right, comrades, now that we're quorate,
I propose we call a doctor.
All the best doctors are in the gulag, or dead.
Yes, yes, because they tried to kill the boss.
So any doctor still in Moscow is not a good doctor.
What are people's thoughts on getting a bad doctor?
What the fuck are you talking about? That's mad.
What if he recovers and finds out?
Well, if he recovers, then we got a good doctor,
and if he doesn't recover, then we didn't, but he won't know.
What was the name of the...
that woman who gave evidence against the doctors?
- Timashuk. - Yes.
She's got everything we require for the situation.
The location of all the remaining doctors in the Moscow area,
a proven desire to survive and a talent for fellatio.
Yeah, right, she gets my vote.
Good. Let her find us some doctors.
Yeah, and if it goes badly, we pin it all on Lady Suck Suck.
- Then we shoot her. - Yes, that would work.
You see? We're better as a committee.
Let's go.
You have a nice long sleep, old man.
I'll take it from here.
That's him. That's him there. There.
Please, I've done nothing wrong.
Take the stethoscope.
Comrade Timashuk, I retired six years ago.
- Get that coat on him. - Please, I...
Look, I can give you names.
- Come on. Stop resisting. - What about my dog?
- This is appalling. - Hurry up.
Get him in the van.
We found some old friends of yours.
I've never met them before in my life.
So, Molotov's off the list.
Yes, Beria's moving fast.
But we can still outvote him.
I always thought it would be you, to fill Stalin's shoes, if I'm honest.
Not Malenkov.
Who knows the future of the Union?
Well, the Union could really use change.
Maybe some reforms now that the old man...
No, Nicky.
Nobody needs factionalism.
You want factionalism?
What about those two, fucking Abbott and Costello over there?
Christ.
When I piss, I try to make eye contact with an officer.
Ruins their day.
When I piss, I try to piss on an officer. Also ruins their day.
We should keep an eye on Kaganovich.
Yeah, Khrushchev too, his talking goat.
Khrushchev. I spend my life making people talk.
I can't shut that gabbling idiot up.
We need to assert our authority, increase security in Moscow.
We should get Stalin's children here.
Vasily will be lying face down in a ditch full of vodka.
- But Svetlana... - The people love her.
- I'm gonna get her in. - Comrade ministers!
- Svetlana is here! - I'm here. I'm over here!
- Svetlana! - Svetlana!
Shit. The race has started.
All right, we need to start putting together a plan. We need change.
Put a halt to the arrests, prison releases,
maybe even reform the Church.
How can you run and plot at the same time?
Hello! Svetlana!
- They're trying to cut you off. - Where?
It's obvious. Svetlana!
- Svetlana! - Svetlana!
- Oh, my darling. - Where is he?
- Where's my father? I would like... - Oh, my dear.
- I'm so sorry. - I would like to see him.
- Yes, of course. - Where is he?
We'll take you inside. He's in bed.
God Almighty! Look at that herb garden.
Does nobody tend it any more?
Do people no longer eat herbs any more?
Do they only eat weeds?
- Come on, we'll take you to see him. - Where is Vasily?
- I will get your brother here. - Most helpful.
- All right. - She wants Vasily.
If Vasily is coming, granted, we should probably have tea and buns.
- We'll get some buns and some tea. - Soak up the vodka.
What?
I saw you and Big Boy out in the woods earlier.
- Yeah. - There's bears in there.
You'd better watch your step, son.
- Well, there's bears in here too. - Hm?
Come on, play! Play better!
Urgh!
Oh, Jesus.
When we play Hungary, are we allowed to use guns?
These are the best I could find since the plane crash.
What plane crash? There was never a plane crash.
Was there a plane crash? Soviet planes do not crash.
And Stalin's son does not fuck up.
Christ!
We have Bobrov. He wasn't on the plane.
What plane?
Bobrov!
- Go on. Hit it. - No!
He's terrified, practically leaving a trail of yellow ice!
You're the coach. Coach them so they're as good as the dead team was.
- Or I'll have you killed, okay? - Apologies. And agreed.
Or I'll just do it myself.
Come on! Play on!
Play through! Ignore me!
Get it. Give it. Hit it.
Vasily.
Play better, you clattering fannies!
Come.
Oh, fuck! Do they know about the crash?
Give me a drink. I've got time for a drink. Give me the flask.
No, no.
You are to come to your father's dacha.
The plane should never have taken off.
Do you suppose that just because I am who I am
that I can predict an ice storm?
Ice storm? Are you saying something's happened to our national team?
- Nothing's happened. - What the fuck are you doing?
My father will have you saddled and ridden to Siberia,
you rude fucking pies.
These are good doctors, my dear. They're the best.
They look like mental patients.
Are they going to sing for us? Why are they standing in a line?
Let's have it.
Following a group assessment of Comrade Stalin,
we've arrived at the unanimous conclusion,
based on a collective finding...
Please put him out of his misery.
Comrade Stalin has had a cerebral haemorrhage.
The right side of his body is paralysed.
Oh, God.
What is the chance of recovery?
It is hard to say.
Relax. I'm not gonna kiss you. Will he recover, yes or no?
No.
- No? - No.
It's over.
It's over!
I want a second opinion. I don't trust these creatures to...
- I mean, how old are you? - I'm 29.
That's a lie. How old are you?
You look dead.
I know people in Stalingrad. I know people in Moscow.
No, no, no. We have all the doctors. There is no other opinion.
- Oh, God. - And so it begins.
Oh, God!
I cry for Stalin. I cry for all the people.
- I cry for the... - Courage.
Courage, little bird. We're here for you.
Most of all, we cry for you,
little... bird.
We offer our tears, though not as a gift, of course.
Oh, God.
I want Moscow cauterised, now.
Cut off the city.
- Moscow's closed. No-one gets in. - Especially you.
NKVD to displace army officers at every station.
Army back to barracks. We're taking over.
Remove Molotov from that last list.
Implement our lists.
New lists.
Ladies and gentlemen, reset your watches.
- New lists. - New lists.
New lists.
Trophy hunting, comrade?
Oh, Svetlana. No, no. I was...
We were just about to make a toast to your father's health
and I know he kept some fine vodka here somewhere.
Well, better you find it than my brother.
Ah, yes. Vasily.
I got a hold of him and he's on his way.
- Oh... - Svetlana, I wanted to...
There was one day when my brother just rode a pig through here.
- That must have been messy. - It was terribly messy.
And my father was so cross.
Papa just chased him around the room in a circle.
Right here around this sofa, just there, look.
Yes, I wanted to let you know that no matter what happens,
I will never ever let any harm come to you or your brother.
- Who said anything about harm? - No, that's what I'm saying.
You know somebody wants to harm us?
- Tell me. I demand to know. - If someone...
No. I should not have used the word "harm".
Yes. But you keep mentioning the word "harm". Why?
If anyone tries to... you, they'll have to get through me first.
My father's going to die.
I'm going to have you to look after me.
I mean, I may as well just shoot myself like Mother.
- Svetlana, we need to be strong. - Who would put a lamp on a chair?
We need to be strong and never afraid.
- I wasn't afraid. Now I am afraid. - Don't be, because if any harm...
God, I actually...
can't believe you said that again.
Quick! The boss is back!
- Ohh! - Come on!
- Papa! - A miracle.
Stalin is invincible.
The boss has shipped death back to the salt mine.
What's happening? This is impossible...
and... and... and wonderful.
- He's pointing... - What is it, Chief?
Maybe he's appointing his successor.
Do you think?
- No. - Maybe not.
- What's he... - It's the painting.
- He's pointing at the painting. - Hold on. You know what he's saying?
He is saying, "I am the lamb."
Huh?
"I am the lamb and you, you, my children, have given me life."
Yes!
Or the lamb is the people and the milk is socialism.
Maybe he's the milk.
Maybe you're the tit.
- Maybe he just wants a drink. - A drink of milk.
- Possible. - Milk here! Immediately!
- Not milk. Water. Water. - And not in a horn. In a glass.
So, Top Boy.
You had your hair fucking embalmed or something?
I owe it to him and the people.
- There's going to be photos. - Oh, right.
You're a hero, Comrade Lukomsky.
This sometimes happens and I...
I'm incredibly pleased.
I won't forget it.
Comrade.
We've remained at our post as you ordered.
Might we respectfully stand down from our position?
Beria...
...he's dead.
- Oh, Jesus! - Fuck my boots!
Oh, my God.
I'm sorry, boss. I wish I could take it for you.
Thick skull, you know. It's an incredibly strong, hard skull.
Shut up.
We need to think about the Presidium.
Yes, succession. We need to...
Oh, fuck. That's his...
Who organised the Wurlitzer?
- It's a respirator. - Did you use it?
- No. It's American. - It's what?
- It's from his hospital. - It was his idea.
Let's just pretend these last six sentences never happened.
Because if they ever find out that we brought in...
What are you doing to my father, you jackals? Murderers!
- You'll kill him! - Vasily, your father is dead.
You're dividing the spoils. Leave his brain alone!
- How old are you? - I'm old.
You're not old! You're not even a person!
You're a testicle! You're made mostly of hair!
- Vasily... - Here's your fucking harvest.
Here it is.
Leave the man alone! I will not...
No! Don't let him shoot!
- Just get the gun off him. - Vasily!
- Let her through. - Remember what Papa said.
They have a machine filling his brain with American lies.
"Wade gently through the river
because there are snakes and crocodiles."
It's okay, Vasily. Everything's gonna be fine.
- This is not exactly fine, is it? - No, well, not exactly fine.
My father's lying there with his head open.
Yes, your father is dead. Your brother is shooting a gun.
It's not fine. You're right.
Come on. There we go.
You have all made a deadly mistake.
- Excuse me. - That's right. Off you go, kitten.
Oh, come on.
- Just keep the gun away from him. - I've got loads, anyway.
Have you forgotten how to salute?
- No, sir. - Then salute me.
Now, let that be a warning.
"Be strong," I hear my father say.
Come on, chop, chop.
Beria's picked you out.
Just do as he says.
- My car is right this way. - No, no. She'll be happier with us.
Okay, but we need to go. Let's go.
- See you in Moscow. - See you.
Ah, nice.
We need to go through first! No, let us go first!
Go, go, go!
Go!
Shit. What, are we last now? Come on.
Comrades, we share your grief.
You will assemble outside for further instructions.
All staff into the transport. Yes, that's it, hurry up.
Come on, get a move on. In the transports, please.
Where the fuck did she come from? Get her out!
Gently with that, will you? Hurry up.
That's it, everything out.
Lookalikes. I think their contract's up.
This way.
- You, come with me. - But I don't understand.
Come on. Just this way.
You can stand down.
Food in the kitchen.
Halt!
Move them out!
Last one! Move it out!
Hello again.
There you are.
You're very quiet.
See the little birch in the meadow.
See the leaves dancing when the wind blows.
No?
Well, come on, your voice was once so beautiful, Polina Molotova.
Oh, yes, sorry, meant to say.
Stalin's dead.
No. The Stalin?
Our Stalin?
Yeah, your Stalin.
The one who put you here.
Come on.
Let's smarten you up for Comrade Molotov.
Good girl. Come on.
Oh, sorry, darling. Work. I'll make it up to you.
Fetch the mattress and have her washed.
Okay.
Right, get in there. Go on.
Right, with me. Come on.
All right, jug, rug, flowers. Right, grab that.
- S-Slimonov, isn't it? - Yes, sir.
See you I-later, S-Slimonov.
Come on.
Bought you a lovely new dress, a nice dress.
Oh, God.
Christ. You look like you're about to be bulldozed into a lime pit.
Need your toilet.
Do you want me to hold back your hair?
Polina always used to do that for me.
Oh, no. Nothing's coming up.
Futile gesture.
Listen, I wanted to invite you to tomorrow's Committee meeting.
Meeting?
What meeting? Why didn't I know about a meeting?
Stalin and Beria put you on a list.
Stalin?
Oh, I must have wronged him so badly. What did I do?
No, nothing. Don't you see? Beria, he wants you out.
Now, I've been talking with Comrade Bulganin.
No. No.
I think he's right. We can outvote them.
No, no. This is factionalism. Stalin didn't like factionalism.
Oh, Stalin is dead!
I've seen inside of him. For fuck's sake, we have to act.
I can't believe he's gone.
Ohh...
You have to wait for it to fill up.
Fucking apartments.
Listen to me.
Beria had Polina killed.
Now, surely you must have wanted to...
Act against the party? Me?
- No? - No, never.
- Really? - No.
- Not once? - Not once.
Hello? Anyone home?
- What are you doing here? - What are you doing here?
We were just chatting.
About Polina.
- Well, well, would you believe it? - Treacherous sow.
Or a wronged woman who was framed.
No, no. She was a criminal.
I'm glad she's dead.
Right, because, well, she betrayed the party.
- She plotted against Stalin. - No, Nicky. False narrative.
- No, no, she was a parasite. - She was a parasite.
She betrayed all of us, and, in fact, the evidence was flimsy.
There were no witnesses. And look. Polina's back.
Is it really you?
Oh, my Polina. Oh, I can't believe it.
Oh, look, everyone, look.
- My little Polinka's back. - I am back.
I kept her safe for you, Vyacheslav.
And I kept him safe for you, Polina.
- I've got so much to tell you. - Good.
- I've bought a dog... - Oh?
So many changes to come.
And you're gonna like some of them, Nicky.
It's great to have you back.
Hello, my sweet.
You're the parents?
Thank you. You should go now.
We ready?
Good.
Now, please don't go until I say, okay?
Did you hear me?
Okay.
Yes? It's good?
I'd like to try one with a faraway look.
Comrade,
I've scheduled some telephone calls later with various members of the...
I can't hear you. Can you say that again?
I'm sorry. I've scheduled some telephone calls later with...
- Then tell me later. - Of course.
Mr Karloff, what an honour. Love your work.
Thinking of doing anything in colour?
I need to talk to you about something.
Would you please excuse me?
I'll be right back.
Don't you ever... ever...
humiliate me again in front of...
I am the General Secretary of the Soviet Union.
Apologies. A line has been crossed.
It is my duty to look good for the people.
- Of course. - Ah, comrade, apologies.
I'm not gonna do the seating plan. Give it to Blavatsky.
- He's expert at sitting on his arse. - Of course. Thank you.
- The Committee meeting... - Oh, yes, yes.
Um, item one: these lists and these arrests.
I think we... Should we take that down just a gear?
Or hold off altogether?
- Freeze them? - Freeze, yes.
Excellent thought. Yes, we could freeze arrests.
We could even release some low-level prisoners.
Fuck me. I mean... I mean, yes.
But what would the old man...
Oh, Stalin... Stalin destroyed the status quo and he built a new one.
The changes he made were both radical and popular.
- Liberalisation would be radical. - Popular.
- Radical. - And popular.
I will deal with whatever horseshit
you have presently.
- Actually, I'd like you to see this. - Come on through.
You remember that famous photo of Stalin and the little girl?
Yes.
Well, I was thinking a photo of, you and the girl.
Continuity.
And this way we're showing Stalin's humanity moving forward, right?
Yeah.
I'm sorry about all that. Find the girl.
- We should head to the Committee. - We are.
So I'll outline the releases under Article 31.
- Yes, please. - Okay.
Please, understand that this is not some cynical ploy.
I mean, these reforms are correct reforms.
Totally understood.
Are you wearing a corset?
It's a girdle. I have a bad back.
It's functional. It's not cosmetic.
You wear it well.
Let's make this a test of your discretion, shall we?
Of course. Of course.
- So, in accordance... - I call this meeting to order.
My apologies.
So, in accordance with his will, I propose Comrade Malenkov
be named Chairman of the Council of Ministers
and General Secretary of the Party.
And I propose Comrade Beria
for First Vice-Chairman, Council of Ministers.
So, let's take a vote. Those in favour?
Those are two separate proposals.
I suggest we vote one at a time. Those in favour?
I'm unsure of what's being proposed.
I just said what was being proposed. I just said it.
And you're being obstructionist.
Comrade Beria is busy combining his role
as Minister for both Interior and Security.
Wouldn't it be kinder if someone else
carried the happy burden of Vice-Chairman?
I thank Comrade Khrushchev for his concern,
but I'm perfectly capable of doing two things at once.
- Well, it's three things. - Should we bring in an abacus?
All right, let's move to a vote on both proposals.
All right? First me as... you know,
and Comrade Beria as Vice-Chairman.
All those in favour?
Carried...
u... nanimously.
Right, next.
We need someone to take charge of the funeral.
- What about Comrade Khrushchev? - Where's this coming from?
I formally propose Comrade Khrushchev
be given the honour of organising the funeral.
What? Come on, I don't have any time to do that.
What if I can do three things at once, you can at least do two.
What do I know about funerals?
You said you wanted to honour his legacy.
You told me last night in the bathroom.
- All those in... all those in favour? - All those in favour?
No, uh...
Well, I think you'd be good, actually, you know.
Passed unanimously.
Nicky Khrushchev, funeral director. It suits you.
- Yeah. - It suits that face, anyway.
- Comrade Beria. - I propose a halt to deportations,
the release of some existing detainees under Article 31 and the suspension
of all arrests that were officially sanctioned three days ago.
Whoa, whoa. That's like wiping your arse on Stalin's final list.
- No, no, no. - This is demonstrably revisionist.
Releasing people we arrested three days ago will make us look cretinous.
Listen, Stalin was misled.
- We were misled. - Really?
Yes. So the people responsible should be found and punished.
Who are you kidding, Lavrenti, yourself?
We all knew what we were doing when we signed those lists.
Stalin destroyed the status quo... and he rebuilt it.
He was liberal.
- Radical. - He was radical.
This is a blatant attempt by Comrade Beria
to buy the support of the public.
I thought you were in favour of a more liberal approach, Comrade Reformer.
All those in favour of pausing the arrests,
of pausing the executions?
All those in favour?
Hmm. I've always been loyal to Stalin. Always.
And these arrests were authorised by Stalin.
But Stalin was also loyal to the collective leadership,
and that is true loyalty.
However, he also had an iron will, undeviating, strong.
Should we not do the same and stick to what we believed in?
No.
It is stronger still to forge our own beliefs
with the beliefs of the collective leadership.
Which I have now... done.
Carried... unanimously. Thank you.
I'll oversee the releases.
We have loosened the Union's great corset.
Nicky, you've some bouquets and swatches to look at.
A funeral doesn't organise itself.
- Long live Stalin. - Stalin's dead. Malenkov's in charge.
- Stop shooting. - Long live Malenk...
Amnesty effective immediately.
Orders of Comrade Beria. We're moving out. Let's go.
Come on, let's go.
Come on.
Ahh...
Oh, my God!
Ohh!
Not too much on that. He's not Clark Gable, okay?
Can somebody get a duster up there?
We've got a cobweb large enough to snag a sheep.
We're opening in 15 minutes.
Now, for the curtains at the front, comrade,
do you want ruched, not ruched?
- Whatever. I don't care. - Not ruched?
- That's good. That's... - Ruched? Not ruched?
- Ruched? - Would you stop with this?
Why do you think I care? Ah, excuse me.
- Fix that button. - Welcome, comrades.
How's the Minister for Fixtures and Fittings?
It's going well. I'm enjoying it.
- Yes, you're very passionate. - Well...
Yes, the ruched, please. Thank you.
- You're doing a great job. - I know.
Well, hello. Are these...
- Oh. - These my...
Which one of these is my girl?
We couldn't find the actual girl, sir.
These are some possible alternatives.
No, no, I want you to find... Excuse me.
I want you to find the girl in the photograph.
Do you understand? The nation depends on it.
- Thank you. - Thank you.
All right, girls, the Snow King does not approve. Wait over there.
What happened? Where's the girl in the photograph?
We couldn't find the actual girl.
I thought the entire point of the NKVD was to know everyone's whereabouts.
- Yes, sir. - Yes, sir, yes.
- So, you find her, you camel cock. - Comrade Khrushchev.
- Maria Veniaminovna. - Yes.
I'm sorry that you heard that, but he is a camel cock.
- How are you, Maria? - Stalin?
Yes. You want to have a look?
Comrade Beria, this is Maria. She'll be playing piano tonight.
- Good to meet you. - Comrade.
What do you think?
Small. He looks so small.
- Sad day, soldier. Sad Day. - Yes, sir.
Aslanov. You handsome devil.
Stick you in a frock, I'd fucking ride you raw myself.
- I will take that as a compliment. - Yeah, don't.
Right, what's a war hero got to do to get some lubrication round here?
Ah, Generalissimo.
There he is, eh, the great man.
I've seen a lot of death, but that... that is a loss.
Tell me something.
Why has the army been replaced by the NKVD all over Moscow?
I mean, I'm smiling, but I am very fucking furious.
Perhaps this is a good time for Comrade Yudina
to go and prepare those precious fingers.
Yes. One moment, General.
I will properly catch up with you this evening.
- I'm looking forward to it. - You never kiss my hand any more.
- I taught Nikita's niece to play. - Yes, you did.
That was quite the salon recital.
Oh, I love the idea of you at a salon.
Do you have a party trick? Burping the alphabet?
Comrade Malenkov, with sharper cheekbones, as requested.
Sharp. Not sharp. Sharp. Not sharp.
I would like...
...that one destroyed, thank you.
Good luck with the performance tonight, by the way.
- Thank you. - Nerve-racking, so many notes.
- Yes. - Like your one to Stalin.
Which I have.
Come this way.
Why has the army been confined to barracks?
The decision was mine, supported by Comrade Malenkov.
Mm-hmm. Oh, was it indeed?
That right, Georgy? It was your call?
Um, yes, of course. We had to make a decision.
We're discussing the city's security.
- I know. - Jesus Christ.
Did Coco Chanel take a shit on your head?
- No, he did not. - Listen, listen.
Moscow's gonna be boiling with people.
His little fucking apes at the NKVD won't know what to do.
There's gonna be thousands of civilians
flooding in from all over Russia.
No, we're controlling the crowd at source.
All trains and vans to Moscow have been cancelled.
- You can't do that. - Wait a minute.
People have a right to see him.
- Oh, come on. No, no, no. - Just temporarily.
I'm the funeral. I'm the trains. This is horseshit, okay?
I've been picking out funeral cushions with Slim Hitler over there...
calico this, taffeta that, and you've done what?
No, I'm the trains and I want them back.
Well, let's see who can mobilise first. Oh, seems to be me!
You sneaky little shit.
And we're opening the doors.
Good. Steady pace. Very good. Yes, just like that.
Rather overwhelming, isn't it?
And nobody's making them do this, are they?
- No, no. - No.
Just round to the right. Thank you.
I don't suppose you want a chair?
Oh, no, no, no. I can't sit down. I haven't sat down since he died.
One can't. He was too big.
Yes.
Do you remember Alexei?
- I remember everyone. It's a gift. - Oh.
Do you remember the way he used to laugh?
- Alexei Kapler, yes, yes. - Yes.
Yes, special to you, of course.
Some unsuitable associates.
Tragic, really.
I'm... I'm so sorry.
Yes, well, I want you to bring him back.
The way that you brought Molotov's wife back.
She...
- Well, I'd kept her as... - Yeah, but I just want one person.
Just one person.
- Oh, my darling. - Please.
For you, I will attempt the impossible.
Keep it moving if you can. Thank you.
A lot of people to process.
Oh, fucking pollen. They should make gas bombs out of the stuff.
Wait, wait, wait. That's not gonna fit.
- It's larger than the region itself. - Go back. Go back.
Hunker down.
A quarter turn.
Through on that line.
- How's Polina? - She's well.
I can sense how sorry she is for her treachery.
Jesus Christ, it's the bishops.
I thought we'd banned those freaks.
Sneeze on the bastards as they go past.
- Did you invite them? - No.
- Ask Beria if he invited the bishops. - Don't give me orders.
Ask Beria if he invited the bishops.
- Did you invite the bishops? - Yes.
- Well?
He said yes.
I'm going to give everyone in Red Square a voucher
permitting one kick each to his stupid face.
Is he asking for some delicious hay?
No, he said something quite complicated about a voucher system.
Ask Nikita why in God's arse he invited the bishops.
- No, I've already explained why... - Ask Nikita.
You tell him...
- Never mind. Swap. - No.
- Just swap with me. - I said no.
We can make it look like it's part of the ceremony.
What the fuck are you doing?
Buttoned-up sacks of shit! Fleabags!
Should I handle this for you?
Foreigners. A vile crime has been perpetrated.
Hairy monsters in coats have scooped out my father's brain
and sent it to America.
And these traitors, sucking the cocks and balls...
...sucking the cocks and balls of Zionist...
New York... New York Zionist queers in petticoats.
Look at them. You see? Those brain thieves.
- Do not translate this. - I see you. Heed me.
- There's food next door, gentlemen. - I'm Stalin's son!
You will not take me down. I will not go down!
Please, this side. I'm sorry. I apologise.
I will not be silen...
I know about the hockey team.
- I'm most deeply... - Up we go. That's it.
Thank you all for your...
Medic!
Not today!
You're a fucking stain on that uniform. You fucking behave.
What is going on?
He felt a little overwhelmed, Svetlana.
Harm. This is a perfect example of harm.
- He's okay. - Come here. Get up.
- Who did this? - I did, and I enjoyed it.
It's been a long time coming.
If any of you...
...should do anything...
Right, well, that's me told.
I'm off to represent the entire Red Army at the buffet.
You girls enjoy yourself.
Are you all right? He fell very hard.
Why did you let him do that?
Yes, I should have intercepted his fist with my face.
I want to make a speech at my father's funeral.
- And I want to fuck Grace Kelly. - I simply don't care.
I want to make a speech at my father's funeral.
Comrade Malenkov, your view?
Well, I think, um...
it can be, um...
- no... no problem. - Ah...
Technically, yes, but practically...
There are programmatic complications.
You know, I think I misspoke when I said, "No problem."
What I meant was, "No."
"Problem."
Ignore me. I'm... It's no problem.
- Yes. I take that as a yes. - Go ahead, Nikita.
I will unlock the schedule and squeeze him in.
I will not be squeezed.
Sometimes the shortest speeches are the most memorable.
- Well, that's as maybe. - True. Fish! Let's eat.
- What's going on? - I don't...
I look forward to the five garbled words
we afford him before we start the flypast.
Hey, we need to talk. First the trains, now the bishops.
Who else are we pals with now?
- You invite any old Nazis? - Excuse me.
These stairs are like climbing Mount Kilimanjaro.
I'm more sweat than man.
- Did you see off Vasily? - Yes, we did.
And thank you for landing me this funeral.
Come on, Nicky. You're enjoying it.
But why did you have to invite the bishops?
What, you think I wanted those boyfriends of Christ here?
That was his idea.
Lavrenti, you of all people must know
that religion has never been part of...
You lecturing me? You standing in the Hall of Columns
still insisting on Polina's guilt?
Well, she... she is...
- Um, sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have... - Oh, come on.
No, no. You both called the blameless Polina Molotova
a traitor and a parasite in her own apartment. I heard you.
She was guilty. You found her guilty.
And Stalin agreed. Nobody doubted.
Past tense, you see.
In the good old days you pine for, that sort of dissonance
would have had you both shot. Both of you.
Oh, this is just fucking wordplay.
Oh, is it?
Allegiance to the party line, hm? That was what Stalin demanded.
Correct, Comrade Molotov?
Um, allegiance to the party line? Yes.
And defiance of the party line,
that would mark you out as a traitor, wouldn't it?
I'm ashamed and I... I...
I beg your forgiveness for my selfish deceitfulness,
and I will go and reassure Polina.
You're just making this shit up as you go along.
- What game is this, Lavrenti? - Oh, don't be hysterical.
- We're in a new reality. - What, you're the good guy now?
You locked up half the nation.
You beat them, you raped them, you killed them.
Yes, and now I'm releasing them.
And you won't believe how many will be free.
So now you want the public to love you, is that it?
You're bending and cracking the truth like a human body.
The truth?
This from the man who invited his bit-on-the-side whore pianist
to play at the funeral, even though she swore to kill Stalin,
who's now dead.
Whoa. What the barrelling fuck are you talking about?
She wanted Stalin dead and she knows your family.
She taught your niece to play, remember?
I think you should read this.
It's the copy of a note I found by Stalin's body, from the pianist.
It's lucky we both now live in the new Soviet Union
or you and your wife and your family
would be a pile of dust on the floor of a crematorium toilet.
Kobulov! My stomach's rumbling.
Is there any cheese in this building?
No, I don't have time for that shit right now.
Wait, wait, wait. Come back, come back.
No, go.
New security orders. Restart the trains, all right?
Open the city's borders and let the people back into Moscow.
They deserve to see the old man.
Let's see how Beria's goons cope with that.
Train to Moscow in five minutes!
- What's going on? - Trains are bringing them in.
Quiet. Quiet, quiet.
Turn around!
- This is a secure area! - We've come to see Comrade Stalin!
Back. Get back. Back!
Back.
- Stay back. - Stay where you are!
Fire over their heads.
Don't let them through!
This is your work, is it?
Why? Are there spelling mistakes?
Do you have any idea what kind of man Beria is?
He's releasing people from prison.
That was my idea. I was going to do that.
I'm the reformer. Me.
Don't you fucking laugh at me. I was going to release the bishops.
- I thought you hated the Church. - I do!
Just tell me it's not true. Did you write this?
Stalin killed my family, my friends.
- Zinaida Reich, Kuperchinski. - Kup... You knew Kuperchinski?
I should have you shot just for saying his name.
Comrade Nikita Sergeyevich, you know me. I...
Stop. No, I... I don't know you. You don't know me.
You fucking taught my niece piano lessons. That's it.
Don't you see what Beria's done now? He's tied me to you.
We are tied together.
- Like a rock... - I know.
...that's sinking and...
But I'm confident of everlasting life.
Who the fuck in their right mind would want everlasting life?
The endless conversation.
Piano lessons, Nicky? How's the fingering?
She hit the high note, did she?
F sharp?
Yeah, two clowns, one joke between you.
Work on your fucking material.
Something's happening over there.
I hate him. Hate her. Fucking wet box.
- Can you please just be cordial? - I know the drill.
Smile, shake hands and try not to call them a cunt.
Perfect. That's perfect.
- How many? - 1500.
- Dead? - Yes.
- I need a man with an army. - Comrade minister.
I found her. She's uh... grown a little since the photograph.
She's the size of an ostrich. No.
Okay, can we just go back to my original idea
and find a girl who looks like her but little?
No higher than this. Chalk it on your fucking trousers.
Modern soldier's greatest fear. It's not death. It's not starvation.
It's chafing.
And then he planted the flag on Hitler's bunker
or he knocked the bear out with one punch.
Either way, the man's a war hero. Excuse us, please.
Listen, it was Goebbels' bunker, not Hitler's.
Listen to me. I was the one who put the trains back on.
- Comrade General... - Fuck off!
Or I'll punch you into a sticky pulp.
- Thank you. - What the fuck were you thinking?
I don't know, okay, but I did it.
- And I really need your help. - To do what?
There's bodies fucking piling up in the street.
It's a bit late, isn't it.
What if we blame this on someone...
- Wait. - ...who's out of control.
Nicky, be very careful what you say next.
Who?
Beria.
I'm gonna have to report this conversation.
Threatening to do harm
or obstruct any member of the Presidium in the process of...
Look at your fucking face.
Nikita Khrushchev.
- You balls like Kremlin domes. - Stop. Be serious. Are you in?
I'm in, I'm in. That fucker thinks he can take on the Red Army.
I fucked Germany. I think I can take a flesh lump in a fucking waistcoat.
- It's got to be tomorrow. - Tomorrow?
Sorry. You busy washing your hair or what?
Tomorrow's the funeral.
Yeah, the day that the entire fucking army's in town with their guns.
That's perfect.
But we need the Presidium on board. Every one of them.
Yeah, yeah, yeah... Malenkov's a bit tricky.
- No. We need fucking all of them. - Well, I'll get him.
- How many? - 1500.
Find Khrushchev. I want to talk to him about his future.
A very short conversation.
If you could do me a favour and just nod as I'm speaking.
People are looking to me for reassurance
and I have no idea what is going on.
We will bring the situation under control. Order will be restored.
This moron has restarted the trains.
And your men pissed their pants and killed 1500 people.
We were controlling the crowd.
Those people weren't supposed to be there.
Are you blaming the dead
for their own death?
I'm gonna tell you who's going to be blamed. I am going to be blamed.
This shit sack is going to be blamed.
Let's get out of here.
- Comrade, your girl. A girl. - Ah! There you are.
Are we ready for the balcony wave?
Who's gonna carry the can for this farrago of shit?
That's easy. Khrushchev. He put the trains back on.
And you shot the people getting off them.
- Yes, he has a point. - No, he doesn't.
There's no point to Nikita Khrushchev.
Well, how about this? We blame the security forces.
Right? Hothead officers on the ground.
Sorry. I'm sorry.
Do you still possess a working brain?
You dumb animal. I am the security forces
and I'm not gonna be made the villain for this catastrophe.
Look, even if you do get blamed, we close ranks.
If anyone has a pop at you, they have to come through us first.
Yes, good idea. Give me the girl. All right?
- A lot of this is your own doing. - You spineless rat.
You're just a cadaver we propped up in a corset.
- Ohh... - Hey, hey, easy.
It's time all of you realised who kept the daggers out of your backs.
Show some fucking respect. I... I've got... I've got...
I've got documents. I have documents on all of you.
You, 13th of March, 1937.
Zolotov trials. Forty-two dead, 173 exiled.
- Your signature. - Beria, that's enough!
Yeah, well, you signed off the life of your own brother!
Oh, you think that was easy? You bastard!
Bagrov, Gorev.
How did your conscience accommodate that?
And Zykov! Zykov! Poor blameless, guileless Zykov.
All of you!
All of you. I have documents on all of you!
I've seen what you've done.
I know the truth. It's all written down.
It's all written down on a very... on a very fucking long list!
Just pick them up.
Are we done? Hm?
We will convene tomorrow after the funeral.
I will nominate some scapegoats.
We can arraign a couple of the officers who fired.
- No harm done. - Are you okay?
Only comrades and friends could shout at each other like this.
Right, so we'll fix this in committee, all right?
Right, right... He's using you, Georgy.
He's using you and then he's gonna kill you.
- You saw those papers. - What are you talking about?
Jesus, Nicky, he was pointing at you. He wasn't pointing at me.
No, he said "all of you".
No, no. I was over there, you know?
- And he went "all of you". - Yeah, "all of you".
- No, no. - Yes.
- "All of you." - All of us.
No, he said "all of you".
You know, all of you can kiss my Russian arse.
All of you.
On the balcony. Let's go.
Why did Molotov want to meet us at dawn?
- Is he planning a duel? - Said he wanted to start early.
Murderer!
You killed hundreds, Nicky.
You certainly got your big funeral.
- I'm regretting this already. - Get in the car.
- What? - Can't talk. Get in the car.
I see she moults.
This is for hungry ears.
The drivers.
Let's do him in.
- Who? - Beria.
The treacherous snake brought back the bishops.
He brought back Polina.
He expressly ignored all Stalin's orders.
His men opened fire on innocent people.
He'll get the blame. Clever, eh, Nicky?
Yes, Beria is the murderer here.
This is how the Soviet Union was built. Not with bishops.
Today Beria gets an eight-foot crucifix up his arse.
- Good. - I've...
I've had nightmares that made more sense than this.
- Now we have a majority. - Yes, you do.
- You two, me and Bulganin. - Mikoyan and Malenkov.
- No... but we still have a majority. - No, no, no.
Everyone in or not at all.
Oh, come on. Slava, you just... Dammit, you just said...
- All in or it's off. - No...
This is what Stalin would have wanted. The Committee as one.
But you've got to act fast, comrade. Act fast or be dead.
Yes, Uncle Nicky's going to be dead
if he doesn't get a move on, isn't he?
Yes, he is.
How's my guest?
Yes, I'm working on my speech. It's good.
I've brought you something.
No.
I'm not drinking. I'm using water.
It's just to calm your nerves.
Yes, actually, I will need some of that.
- No. He's not drinking. - No, I'm not drinking.
- How's the speech? - Um... ba-dum-ba-dum...
My father...
...was a warm and mighty bear,
and we are his 170 million orphaned cubs.
Russian cubs, Georgian cubs, Armenian cubs, Lithuanian...
We'll leave you to it. Come on.
So, Lithuanian cubs,
Ukrainian cubs, Moldavian cubs...
Svetlana.
Alexei's dead.
15th of March, 1949.
Attempted escape from Kolyma with 12 others.
Executed. I'm sorry.
But you said you would get him back.
Listen, it was outside my direct control. It just wasn't possible.
Yes, but you said that you would attempt the impossible.
I hate being sober. It's a terrible, terrible mood to be in.
Why don't we go through that speech
- one more time? - Sit down.
Get off me. I can see what you're doing.
- I don't want to sit down. - Sit down.
I don't want to sit down!
Right, many terrible things were done in the service of the Union.
Evidence was fabricated.
Those who are responsible will be found...
And what will you do to them? Question them to death?
You know what I'm doing?
I'm offering you and that bloated soak my protection.
- We are not children! - You are a real listener. Thank you.
- I am not a child. - Yes, you are. Yes, you are.
And I warn you, stick by my side or you will both be beaten inside out
and strung up for the crows by the others.
Why should I trust you?
Because I'm the only one who's telling you.
Trust no-one.
Georgy, Georgy. Georgy, we have to act today.
Act, you limpet?
Act sombre, act respectful like the rest of us, please.
Do you understand how important this is?
- Would you... - Places, comrades, please.
Form up either side of the... Comrade, thank you very much.
If you could join your comrades over here.
- Thank you. - Damn it.
All right, guys, come on. Lift it up.
- That's it. - Come on. Let's go.
- Which foot? - Left foot.
I don't have a good balance.
Okay. Yes.
Ooh. Argh.
Georgy...
Not now. God sakes.
- Georgy, we really have to talk. - Shut up. Have some respect.
- Is Malenkov on board? - Yes, 100 percent.
Saddle up, cowboy.
- Is Malenkov with us? - Trust me, 100 percent.
Yes!
- So you're on board, then, Molotov? - Yeah.
Okay. You've got me, then, Nicky.
Put your dancing shoes on.
- Which way shall I... - Left.
All right.
Okay, let's go and catch a pig for the pot.
Stalin's love of the nation was unwavering.
So must we now take our unwavering pain,
our unwavering love,
and with it build an unwavering, unwavering... future.
Guns, please, gentlemen.
Take good care of this. Don't want it going off.
Today we pause. We pause in grief and sorrow.
But is not a pause in itself part of the revolution?
I think it is.
Okay, let's tango.
You heard him, gentlemen. Let's go.
We must embrace our terrible loss
with the strength and love for our nation...
that Stalin himself held
in his mighty heart.
Check the stalls.
We promise you rights and liberties...
bread... and peace.
My father was a great social scientist.
But we, the people of the Soviet Union,
are not laboratory animals.
We are all but cubs.
Russian cubs,
Georgian cubs,
Armenian cubs,
Lithuanian cubs...
Latvian cubs...
Estonian cubs.
- Very good speech, Lavrenti. - Thank you.
Yes, "bread and peace". I knew it would work.
It was between "peace" and "sausages".
Both good things, but you know where you are with a sausage.
Your name rings out. Malenkov the hero. Good lad.
Vasily's face when the planes flew over.
Should have strafed the little shit.
Poor Vasily. I sometimes wonder if he's meant for this world.
I salute you, Top Boy, and I salute your haircut.
- Goodnight, Vienna. - Georgy.
Action is gonna be taken at the meeting.
Action? What action?
Is this why everyone is treating me like they wanna fuck my sister?
Zhukov has everybody on board against Beria.
- When I heard that, I agreed too. - Yes, yes.
But Zhukov... is not governing the Soviet Union.
I am governing the Soviet Union.
- Do you understand that? - Yes.
Now, I like him and I'll be happy to listen to what he has to say.
You'll definitely have a chance to talk to him.
Perhaps what we can do is give Beria a slight demotion,
I don't know, Ministry for Fisheries.
All right, boys. Meet your dates for tonight.
I'll take the tall blonde.
Comrades, time to set aside our grief
and begin to write the next chapter of our great history.
- Comrade Malenkov... - Proceed.
Item one, the unfortunate events of yesterday evening.
It's clear that the regrettable deaths of so many citizens...
Comrades. Comrades, I would like to propose a new agenda.
Item one, the conduct of Comrade Beria.
Seconded. Time to take stock.
If you have a serious proposal, comrade,
I suggest "Any Other Business".
I accuse Comrade Beria
of centralising power within his Ministry
at the expense of the Party and Central Committee...
- There's no tabled motion. - ...betraying the Soviet Union.
I deplore this wanton breach of protocol. Georgy.
Breach, my arse! This is an ad hoc motion.
It will end very badly for you. Georgy, Georgy!
Georgy, press the button underneath the desk.
- Press the button, Georgy. - What button?
- Arrest that madman. - Where's the button?
Good luck, ladies.
Guards!
Hands up or I'll shoot you in the face.
Guards!
Oh, shit.
- Guards! - Oi!
Want a job done properly, you call the army.
Take his belt off.
It's hard to run away with your pants falling down.
If you want to talk to General Zhukov, now's your opportunity.
Spit it out, Georgy. Staging a coup here.
He's got a knife by his ankle.
- You're a disgrace. - Give his head a good kicking.
- Make you feel better. - All in good time.
Oh, I'm gonna enjoy peeling the skin from your self-satisfied face.
Not with that, you won't. Come on, then.
Sorry, comrades.
- Wrong room. - Aslanov.
- Go and kill them. - Kobulov.
- Shall we? - Yes, right.
Let's do this. Georgy, come on, now.
Suit doesn't really work without this belt.
Oh, shit.
Third door on the left. On the left.
I have been picturing this moment
every day for the last three decades.
Arrest the staff. Arrest all Beria's staff.
Check the bedrooms.
Come out. You're safe. This way. Come out this way.
You're safe. Come out.
- You, take her down. - This way.
Is this magisterial enough for you all?
This charade? This is a lavatory!
Well, you should feel at home, then, you little coil of shit.
Fuck me.
Georgy's eyes really do follow you round the crapper. It's weird.
Why did they hang a picture of my grandmother in here?
This is madness. This is madness.
- He deserves a trial. - He'll get a trial. Take it easy.
Georgy! Can't even look me in the eye.
- Guilt. Guilty, all of you. - Say nothing.
Georgy, you'll get over it. I did. Took me about five minutes.
H-How long before the army's here? We're in complete limbo now.
Not long. We have to wait for the NKVD to leave the Kremlin.
In that case, if nobody objects, I'm going to spend a kopeck.
It's the excitement, I think.
Right, hold your fire.
Hold your fire. Hold your fire!
The army's back. Did you miss us?
- Take their weapons. - Come on, this way.
All right, Judy Garland, boys and girls. It's showtime.
Georgy.
- Georgy, you have to sign this now. - No. No.
No. He deserves a fair trial. He's one of us.
What about Tukhachevsky and Piatakov?
Did they get a trial?
What about Sokolnikov?
Who begged him to look after his elderly mother.
And what did this monster do? He strangled her in front of him.
It's too late.
The only choice we have is between his death or his revenge.
And you will fucking sign this.
I want it to go on record:
this was not my first course of action.
Stalin would be loving this.
Through the door.
- Get the table. - Let me through.
Sit him down here. Sit him down.
- All right, all right. - This... This is a travesty!
You are all witnesses to a criminal... criminal travesty.
Come on!
I demand... I demand... Fuck you!
I demand my rights under Article...
- Will you stop banging? - Read it, Georgy.
- Here's your trial. - Spit it out.
- Marshal? - Comrade General Secretary!
- Get on with it! - Read it.
You're judging me! You're judging me!
- I judge you! - Fuck you!
I judge you! I judge all of you. All of you.
- Where's the logic? - Nicky, read it.
Would you like me to read it for you?
- Read it, Nicky. - Come on, Nicky, read it.
"You are accused
"of using your position as Minister of the Interior
- "to plot against the Soviet Union... - Traitor!
...with the goal of forwarding the interests of foreign powers."
Foreign powers? Which one, the fucking moon?
"You are also accused of 347 counts of rape,
"of sexual deviancy and bourgeois immorality
and acts of perversion with children as young as seven years old."
Exotic for old Beria!
Seven years old!
Rapists! Rapists! You are the rapists!
Error! Error! Error!
- Get on with it. - "Petra Nikova, aged 13.
"Nadia Ranova, aged 14. Magya Holovic, aged seven."
Would you like to read the list yourself?
"You are accused of treason and anti-Soviet behaviour.
The court finds you guilty and sentences you to be shot."
I rescind that.
Take him out.
No, please!
Please, don't shoot me! Don't hurt me.
Shoot him!
Get him out. Come on!
Get out of here...
Well, that's got it done.
Come on, have a look.
Come on.
This is for us. This is for the people.
Everybody happy? Proper dead?
- Ruined everything, Lavrenti. - Come on, get him up.
Fuck off back to Georgia, deadboy.
- On the rocks. - It was shit knowing you.
Who's got a light?
Get the cans.
I wish the old man could have seen this.
That'll do.
Fucking hell.
I'm knackered. It's been a busy old week.
You see? Old Molotov's still got some scheming left in him.
I will bury you in history.
- You hear me, you fat fucker? - That's enough.
That's enough. Come on, now.
You smell like rendered horse, you burning arsehole.
That's how you deal with a problem, isn't it?
I'm sorry you had to be here.
I hope you didn't tell Beria that he was going to be safe from harm.
You will be safe, okay? Vasily, too. If you listen to me.
Why wouldn't we be safe?
- What are you talking about? - Just be quiet now.
- I refuse to be quiet every time... - Just shut up!
Vasily stays here in Russia where we can take care of him.
Read it.
Vienna?
- If I stayed, I could contain Vasily. - No. No.
No, you go to Vienna. He stays.
We can't have a drunken madman
spreading conspiracy theories all over the world.
- He's not... He's not bad. - Listen to me.
- He's just ill. - No. No.
You understand what's going on?
This is how people get killed, when their stories don't fit.
Safe travels.
I never thought it would be you.
Now we can turn the corner.
Yeah. Put all the bloodshed behind us.
I'm worried about Malenkov, though.
Can we trust him?
Can you ever trust a weak man?