Ninotchka Page #8

IRANOFF:

We don't like Razinin.

BULJANOFF:

(again pawing Leon)

We like you, Leon -- don't we like

Leon?

The others join him and kiss Leon.

IRANOFF AND KOPALSKI

Yes, we like Leon... little

Leonitchka.

This brings on a new frenzy of Russian affection. Leon frees

himself and rises.

LEON:

How does this strike you? Commissar

Razinin, Board of Trade, Moscow.

Unexpected situation here. Duchess

Swana in Paris claims jewels, and

has already brought injunction against

sale or removal. After long and

careful study we suggest in the

interest of our beloved country a

fifty-fifty settlement as best

solution. Iranoff, Buljanoff, and

Kopalski.

KOPALSKI:

If we say that, Leon... we'll be

sent to Siberia!

IRANOFF:

And if we have to go to Siberia...

LEON:

(still looking over

the telegram)

I'll send you a muff.

BULJANOFF:

Oh, why are you so good to us?

IRANOFF AND KOPALSKI

Yes, you are so good, Leon.

Again they overwhelm Leon with an avalanche of Russian

affection. At this moment Rakonin enters with some new bottles

of champagne. The Russians immediately leave Leon and direct

their affection toward Rakonin, embracing and kissing him.

ALL THREE RUSSIANS

Comrade waiter, dear waiteritchka!...

Why are you so good to us? You good

waiter!

After Rakonin has turned over the champagne to the Russians,

Leon takes him aside.

LEON:

Take this telegram to the telegraph

office at once!

RAKONIN:

Yes, monsieur.

He leaves the room.

CLOSE SHOT -- DOOR LEADING TO CORRIDOR OF HOTEL CLARENCE

Rakonin comes out with the telegram. The CAMERA PANS with

him as he hurries down the corridor, reading it. The CAMERA

NARROWS DOWN on an insert of the telegram as we

DISSOLVE TO:

TELEGRAPH WIRES OVER A WIDE SWEEP OF COUNTRY

DISSOLVE TO:

TELEGRAPH WIRES OVER THE ROOFS OF MOSCOW

Pan down past the roof of an official building to a CLOSE

SHOT of a window. Behind it stands Razinin, reading the

telegram. He is a violent, militant Bolshevik.

The telegram fills him with rage. As he crumples it, and

stares into space, his expression bodes ill for Buljanoff,

Iranoff, and Kopalski.

FADE OUT:

MEDIUM SHOT -- UPPER CORRIDOR OF HOTEL CLARENCE

FADE IN:

shooting toward door of elevator. The elevator comes up and

stops, the door opens, and the Three Russians step out. They

are very smartly dressed and look like any urbane gentlemen

coming from the races. Two of them have racing glasses. As

they walk toward the Royal Suite, Lady Lavenham, an elderly

English aristocrat, comes out of her room.

LADY LAVENHAM:

Good afternoon, messieurs, mes

Comrades.

ALL THREE RUSSIANS

Good afternoon, Lady Lavenham.

KOPALSKI:

And how is Lord Lavenham?

BULJANOFF:

...and little Lady Beatrice?

LADY LAVENHAM:

Very well. Did fortune favor you at

the races?

IRANOFF:

Comme ci, comme ca.

LADY LAVENHAM:

I understand... nothing to write

home about.

BULJANOFF:

(alarmed)

Who wants to write home about it?

LADY LAVENHAM:

It's just a saying. How about joining

us Saturday night for dinner? We're

having a few friends.

KOPALSKI:

Are we free, Buljanoff?

BULJANOFF:

Possibly.

IRANOFF:

We'll manage.

LADY LAVENHAM:

Then let's say at nine.

BULJANOFF:

Black tie or white tie?

LADY LAVENHAM:

Oh, let's make it white.

BULJANOFF:

Certainly!

LADY LAVENHAM:

Au revoir.

ALL THREE RUSSIANS

Au revoir.

As they walk into the Royal Suite, Buljanoff tosses off an

urbane comment.

BULJANOFF:

Nice people.

ANTEROOM OF ROYAL SUITE

As the three enter, the telephone rings. Buljanoff and

Kopalski go into the living room. Iranoff answers the

telephone.

IRANOFF:

(into telephone)

Yes, Leon...

(a little bit annoyed)

What is it, Leon?... You can't hurry

such things... You must give Moscow

a little time... There's nothing we

can do about it... why don't you

drop in later?... Au revoir...

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