Burnt by the Sun Page #2

Yes.

Nadya, get out of my armchair.

She's coming...

It's because of my eye.

"Confession is the source of justice."

- Who brought this?

- The pioneers.

- For whom?

- For Comrade Kotov.

For breakfast.

Listen... "Confession is the source of justice."

That took some finding!

Vsevolod! Your comments

will be the end of you!

I still say...

that the presumption of innocence

is the basis of law,

even the Roman law,

which I am fortunate to teach.

Stop!

What a farce!

Olga, when do you cut my hair?

You think it's necessary?

Boris would like me

to cut his hair.

Bring the mail.

My brother always had

an awful hairsytle.

There were still discharges

at university.

They returned half of them

for "imperfect knowledge of...

the origins of Marxism-Leninism".

- Half ?

- Yes, but not me.

Uncle, play something for us.

- How?

- Play!

Nadia...

Wait, wait.

Excuse me.

Nadia,

It's your instrument.

I show you how to do it.

Just blow.

Look!

Well done!

Well, I...

I wanted to say something important.

Ah, yes!

Here I am!

It looks like sackcloth!

Yes...

...but it's not finished yet.

I like it.

I'd like to show it to you

when it's finished.

It would be nice.

I wanted to make a nice stand.

Well and good standing!

Really?

Elena?

Not again!

Even a tiger is afraid

of a furious virgin.

She sucks nails.

One day we'll find her poisoned to death.

Good morning everyone!

Happy holiday, gentlemen...sorry... comrades!

Where's Mokhova?

Leave her.

Here are some biscuits.

My pleasure.

We're celebrating the construction

of balloons for...?

- Stalin!

- Exactly.

What's wrong, Kirik?

It's the dance of the bird

arriving by balloon, my love.

My love from above, my dove.

Our language is so rich.

Isn't it, Sergei Petrovich?

Sorry.

Happy holiday.

Oh!...

"Oh," what?

Mother, he's teasing me!

You're wrong, Sergei Petrovich.

Kirik never touches a drop of alcohol.

Not one drop...

In any case, today's a celebration.

And it's hot.

I remember...

...Prince Dimitri Pavlovich giving him a drink...

...when he was little.

Oh, yes!

"Drink for drink's sake means trouble."

Early each morning...

Vsevolod Konstantinovich...

...you remind me of

Petya Trofimov in Checkhov...

Petya...

"The Cherry Orchard"!

...the eternal student.

You're at the university and

your friends are at the Academy!

No. They're not my friends.

My friends, as Pushkin said,

"are no more, or are far away."

Did you return the money?

What money?

To the soda water, saleswoman.

- Why the coat?

- I'm trying it on.

A coat in this heat!

Interesting...

I'll pay her tomorrow.

I promise.

"Burnt by the sun"

"As the crimson sea did run..."

Kirik, after your morning port...

...do you still drink tea?

You know, Sergei Petrovich...

...you shouldn't consider drinking a vice...

How would you say?

...a vice of the will,

but rather the elan...

...of a tormented soul.

- Exactly.

My love...

Kirik, the 5 rubles you borrowed from Marussya,

you have to give 'em back.

Enjoy your meal.

It's cold.

Come on...

He...

feels offended...

"GLORY TO THE BUILDERS

OF STALIN'S BALLOONS!"

My name is Lyuba Grucheva.

You should have told us

you were coming here.

I would have given you a ride on my bicycle.

It's romantic.

Especially a lady's bicycle.

Without a bar.

Well?

I don't know. I've never tried

without a bar.

Here he is.

How about a swim?

Exactly.

Coming for a swim?

Of course.

Kirik, you can be so untidy!

Such severity!

That's Comrade Kotov!

We've got his portrait at the university.

- On horseback?

- No.

On foot.

Have you got my portrait?

Who are you?

Me?

I am who I am.

You're a tease.

I'll explain it to you.

Oh, God! Oh, God!

What have they done?

Yes, Mokhova.

No more medicine.

Boris Konstantinovich used to

bring them back from France.

Don't cry, Mokhova.

I'll tell Daddy...

...to bring you some more.

Oh, a pioneer regiment!

Pioneers don't cry.

They're soaked.

Nadya...

The pioneers are here.

Is there a celebration today?

You don't know what for?

You know, I don't understand

their celebrations.

All I know is...

...is that it's an important Soviet celebration.

I'll lie down for a while.

- My head...

- Lie.

...is spinning.

I'll lie down.

It's Nadya.

She's the one who knows all

the celebrations.

Good.

Oh, God!

What's that I smell?

Could it be little Nadya

who's going to be a pioneer...

...and the head of the class?

How do you know?

Well...

...why wouldn't I know

the most brilliant...

...of them all?

Are you the summer Santa?

Yes, Nadya.

I'm the wizard from Maghreb.

What's the Maghreb?

The Maghreb...

...is the land

where summer Santas live.

In the USSR?

Of course.

All the summer Santas

live in the USSR.

- And the winter ones?

- They, too.

Are you a doctor?

Probably.

We need one for Mokhova.

- She's still alive?

- Yes.

My great-grandmother

and Elena...

...threw away her medicine.

They're still alive, too?

And how!

Mokhova!

Mokhova!

This is Mokhova.

Away, white virgin!

Who invited you in?

"Lather makes Marussya's skin soft."

As if we didn't have

enough lunatics here!

What do you want?

Silence, you polygamist!

What do you mean by that?

Happy holiday, noble ancestors!

But I'm not even a grandmother!

Nadya!

Someone!

Who invited him in?

Stop stamping your feet!

But why...

You're here too, you lover of sweet wines...

...and immodest young women!

Splash!

34-15, extension 19.

What did he say?

That's my old office number.

Hello!

Mitya!

I just recognized you!

Mitya!

My God!

When Marussya was a baby,

Boris used to say to me...

..."Lather makes Marussya's skin soft."

What a joker!

Dimitri, I must say...

Vsevolod Konstantinovich!

Hello.

Mitya! You're back at last!

Kirik, quiet.

This is...

...Sergei, my husband.

This is the famous Mitya...

...of whom my father was so fond.

And his best student.

Kotov.

Delighted.

Same here.

In fact, we've already met.

Of course, I remember.

You've met?

It was a long time ago, for a short while.

And this?

This is our doughter, Nadya.

Nadya, call me Uncle Mitya.

Uncle Mitya.

Close your mouth.

Mokhova...

Dimitri Andreyevich!

My immaculate...

Immaculate, right?

Mokhova...

...why don't you dust properly?

I don't dust properly?

Wait...

Wait a minute...

On New Year's Eve in 1928...

...just before I left, we had hidden all the gifts.

I hid a candy here.

It's not there now!

Look, it's here...

It's a celebration for everyone except me.

Lydia Stepanovna, attention...

Let's drink tea.

And not just tea!

I did not recognize him.

Give me a glass of water.

I'm dying of thirst.

Is Philippe with you?

Yes. I'll clean up and tell you everything.

This damn beard...

He must have aged?

In fact,

I never knew him young.

Mitya!

Are you married?

Yes.

Have you got children?

- Yes.

- How many?

Three.

Bravo!

Do you still play the piano?

No.

Do you still play?

Dimitri...

...I must ask you...

...over all these years, you...

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