"MOSFILM" production
What is your name?
My name is Yuri Zhary.
Where are you from?
I'm from Kharkov.
What school do you go to?
I go to a trade school.
We'll begin now.
Look at me closely.
Look right into my eyes.
Concentrate on my hand.
My hand is drawing you back.
Concentrate!
Your attention is on your hands.
Your hands are becoming tense!
You're concentrating your will, your great desire
to succeed on your hands.
Your hands are becoming very tense.
Look at your fingers. They're becoming tense.
The tension from here will flow to your fingers.
When I say "3", your hands will become rigid.
One, two,
three! Your hands are rigid.
You can not move your hands.
You try to move them, but can not.
I'll relieve the tension now,
and you will speak clearly and effortlessly.
And you will speak loudly and clearly all your life.
I'll remove the tension from your hands and speech.
One, two,
three!
- Say "I can speak". - I can speak.
THE MIRROR
Starring: Margarita Terekhova as The Mother and Natalia
Script: A.Misharin, A.Tarkovsky
Directed by Andrei Tarkovsky
Camera: Georgi Rerberg
Sets: Nikolai Dvigubsky
Music: Eduard Artemyev Sound: Semyon Litvinov
The cast
A.Solonitsyn, N.Grinko T.Ogorodnikova
Y.Nazarov, O.Yankovsky F.Yankovsky
Y.Sventikov T.Reshetnikova
Narrator: I.Smoktunovsky
Poems by Arsenii Tarkovsky read by the author
The music in the film is by Bach, Pergolesi and Purcell
THE MIRROR
The road from the station lay through Ignatyevo,
turning off near the farm stead,
where we spent our summers before the w*r,
and then to Tomshino through a dark oak wood.
We usually recognized the family,
when they appeared from behind the bush.
If he turns towards the house, it's Father,
if not, it's not he
which means he'll never come again.
Is this the road to Tomshino?
You shouldn't have turned at the bush.
Why're you sitting here?
- I live here. - Where? On the fence?
What interests you: the road to Tomshino, or where I live?
I took everything, but forgot the key.
Would you have a nail or a screwdriver?
I don't have a nail.
Why are you so nervous?
Give me your hand, I'm a doctor.
Don't talk, I'm counting!
Must I call my husband?
You've no husband.
You've no wedding ring.
Though they are rarely worn nowadays.
May I have a cigarette?
Why are you so sad?
Why are you so happy?
It's nice to fall in love with a pretty woman.
Look at these roots,
these bushes...
Did you ever wonder about plants
feeling, being aware,
perceiving even...
The trees, this beechnut...
- It's alder. - It doesn't matter.
They are in no hurry.
While we rush around
and speak in platitudes.
It's because we don't trust our inner natures.
That's all this doubt, haste,
lack of time to stop and think.
Do you have...
Have no fear. I'm a doctor, you know.
What of "Ward N6"?
It's all Chekhov's invention!
Come to Tomshino.
- We've jolly times here. - You are bleeding!
We celebrated each moment of our meetings
as a revelation.
Alone in all the world.
You were lighter and bolder than the wing of a bird.
Plying down the stairs, two at a time
Pure giddiness, leading me through moist lilac
To your domain Beyond the looking-glass.
When night fell
I was favoured
The altar gates were opened,
and the dark there gleamed
Your nudity and slowly bowed
Awakening, "Be blessed" I said
And knew my blessing to be bold
For you still slept
To touch your lids with heavenly blue
The lilac on the table stretched forth
And your blue tinted lids
Were calm and your hand was warm
Locked in crystal rivers pulsed,
Mountains smoked, seas glimmered.
You held a sphere of crystal
In your hand and slept on your throne.
And Righteous Lord! You were mine.
You awakened and transformed
Our mundane, human words;
Then did my throat fill with new power
And gave new meaning to "you"
Which now meant "Sovereign".
All was transformed even
Such simple things as basin, pitcher, - when
Like a sentinel layered solid water
Lay between us.
We were drawn on and on
Where cities built by magic
Parted before us like mirages.
Mint carpeted our way,
Birds escorted us
And fishes swam upstream,
While the sky spread out before us,
As fate followed in our wake.
Like a madman brandishing a razor.
It's a fire, but don't shout.
What if Vitya's there? What if he's b*rned to death?
Where's Klanya?
Dad.
Why are you hoarse?
Don't worry. It's probably a strep throat.
I haven't spoken for 3 days.
Being silent for a while is good.
Words can't really express
a person's emotions. They're too inert.
I just dreamed of you, mama.
I was a child in my dream.
By the way, when did father leave us?
In 1935... Why?
And the fire? Remember when the barn b*rned down?
That was in 1935, too.
There's something I wanted to tell you...
You know, Liza d*ed.
She worked at the printing house, too.
- When? - This morning.
What time is it now? What's it now?
It's nearly 6... What's the matter with you?
Why are we forever quarrelling?
Forgive me, if I'm to blame.
Where are the proofs I was reading?
I don't know.
Do you hear the evening proofs?
The Goslit edition? Relax!
I'll look in the cabinet.
It's not that terrible.
But it's a special edition!
No edition should have misprints.
- Anything wrong? - Not really.
I want to see... Maybe I'm mistaken...
I'll find it myself.
Everyone's always in a rush!
You think I'm afraid?
Sure, let others worry.
Someone work and others can worry.
Well, what is it?
If it's something, it's already run off.
I waited for you all day long yesterday.
They guessed, that you wouldn't come.
Remember the weather?
As at a holiday! I did not even wear a coat.
Today you came, but we've been granted
A day of such gloom,
And rain and an hour so late.
With drops running down the cold boughs.
That words will not stop, They can't be wiped away...
See? There's no misprint.
No... But it was such an improper word.
Then why're you crying?
I could actually see the word in print.
It's alcohol. It'll do you good.
You all drenched.
Yes, I am.
I'll go to take a shower.
Know whom you look like?
- Maria Timofeevna. - Who's Maria Timofeevna?
Tell me simply: who's she?
Captain Lebyadkin's sister.
You are amazingly like her.
In what way?
After all it's Dostoevsky... no matter what you say...
Lebyadkin, fetch me some water! Hand me my shoes!
The difference is
her brother isn't bringing water but b*ating for her
whereas he thinks everyone's at her beck.
What're you getting at?
Your whole life's just "fetch me some water!"
It's a show of independence.
If something doesn't suit you,
you pretend it doesn't exist.
I'm amazed at your ex-husband's patience.
He should've bolted ages ago.
Do you ever admit you're wrong? Never!
You created the whole situation!
You can say he escaped
in the nick of time,
before you managed to make him like you.
Swear you'll make your children miserable.
Stop talking nonsense!
Come on, Masha!
Leave me alone!
Passing life's half-way mark
I lost my way in a dark wood...
I always said you resembled my mother.
That's probably why we broke up.
I shrink to see Ignat becoming like you.
Why do you shrink?
You and I could never communicate.
When I recall my childhood and Mother,
somehow she always has your face.
But I know why.
I'm sorry for both of you, you and her.
Put the glass back, Ignat!
You won't be happy with anyone.
You seem to think,
that the very fact of your presence
should make everyone happy.
You can only take.
That's because I was brought up by women.
If you don't want Ignat to be like you,
get married soon.
- Whom to? - I don't know.
Or let me have him.
You're to blame for being on the cuts with your mother.
Because she thinks she knows what's best for me,
or what can make me happy.
As for her arid me I feel it more keenly than you.
We're drifting apart,
and I can't help it.
Distract him, Hatalya! He's talking about Spain again.
It's all end in a row.
I wanted to ask you... We're having the house painted.
Ignat would like to stay with you for a week.
I'll be happy to have him.
What's he saying?
He's imitating the famous matador Palomo Linares.
He was overwhelmed by the farewell.
The entire city saw him off.
His mother couldn't. She was ill.
But his father stood sadly on the side lines.
He knew they were both thinking the same thought:
Would they ever see each other again?
You mocking me? I spent years teaching you,
you could never learn, so you do know now!
He was in Spain, but didn't understand a thing.
Don't you ever want to go back to Spain?
I can't. My husband's Russian.
My children are Russian.
I'll talk to her!
Come here! I'm leaving.
When you're in a hurry, this always...
Just pick them up.
It feels like electricity!
It's like it happened once...
But I've never been here before.
Give me the coins and stop imagining things.
And tidy up a bit.
Don't touch anything.
Tell Maria Nikolayevna to wait if she comes.
Come in. Hello.
A cup of tea for a young man.
Get the notebook on the third shelf.
Read the page where the book mark is.
"In replying as to the effect the arts and sciences have
"on our morals, Rousseau said: "a negative one"
Just read what's underlined. We have no time.
"The division of the churches separated us from Europe.
"We did not take part in
"a single one of its great events.
"But we had our own special predestination.
"Russia and its vast expanses
"absorbed the Mongol invasion.
"The Tatars didn't dare cross our western borders
"and left us behind in the rear. They returned to deserts,
"and Christian civilization was saved.
"To achieve this goal our way of life underwent
"a change which, while, preserving us as Christians
"alienated us from the Christian world.
"As for our historic insignificance,
"I cannot agree with you.
"Do you find something significant
"in Russia's present position,
"to amaze the future historian?
"Although I'm truly attached to the Tsar,
"I'm not at all inspired by what I see about me.
"As a writer I am annoyed, I am insulted,
"but not for anything in the world would I
"change my country,
"choose another history,
"than the history of our forefathers,
"as God oriented it".
A letter from Pushkin to Chaadaev. October 19,1836.
Go, open the door!
Oh, I've got the wrong appartment.
How're things, Ignat?
Did Maria Nikolayevna come?
No... a lady came... she had the wrong apartment...
Find something to do,
or invite a friend over.
Are you friends with guys and girls?
Shucks to them!
I was in love when I was your age, during the w*r...
She was a red head... her lips were always chapped...
Our shell-shocked m*llitary instructor liked her...
Where'd you aim at? Think I didn't see you?
You sh*t into the air!
I didn't do anything, there's nobody there.
What if there was?
There are trees there.
What if someone was up in a tree?
About-face! The command was about-face!
That's what I did.
Did you study the manual?
About-face is what I did.
It means
a 360 turn.
Forgot the degrees! Asafiev! About-face!
To your f*ring positions! Forward march!
I want to see your parents.
What parents?
Which f*ring position? I don't understand.
Get down!
His parents d*ed during the Leningrad Blockade.
A f*ring position is... a f*ring position.
Tell me the basic parts... of...
...of... a r*fle.
The stock...
The muzzle...
You're a muzzle.
Then what's a muzzle?
Don't!
Get down!
It's a dummy.
To think you're a Leningrad...
Blockade boy...
I trust not promotions.
And I fear not omens.
I flee not from slander or poison.
There is no death.
We're all immortal - All is immortal.
Fear not death at seventeen,
Not at seventy...There's only reality and light.
There's neither dark, nor death in this, our world.
We've reached the beach,
And I am one of those, who pulls the nets in,
When immortality arrives in batches.
Live in a house, and it won't crumble;
I'll summon a century at will,
Enter and build my house in it.
That's why your children and your wives
All share my board,
The table serving forefather and grandson:
The future is decided now.
And if I rise my hand,
The five rays will remain to you.
My bones, like beams
Held up each day,
I measured time with a surveyor's staff,
And passed through it as through the mountains.
I chose a century according to my height.
We pressed on South, raising dust in the steppes,
Weeds smoldered, A grasshopper played,
Touching horseshoes and prophesying...
Threatening me with death quite like a monk.
I strapped my fate fast to my saddle,
I rise up in the stirrups
Of the future as a boy.
I am content with my immortality,
With my blood coursing from century to century.
I'd gladly give my life
for a safe corner of warmth.
If life's swift needle
Did not draw me out, as though I were a thread.
Marusya!
Where are the children?
I'll tell them you stole a book.
Tattle-tale!
I will, too!
Marina!
Come more often; you know how he misses you.
Let Ignat live here...
Are you serious?
You said he'd like to.
I have to watch my every word.
Think I suggested it for my own pleasure?
Let's ask him. Let him decide...
It'll be easier on you.
In what way?
Did you get your books together?
Say goodbye to your father.
Mama and I wanted to ask you...
Would you rather live here?
You spoke to Mama of it, didn't you?
When? What'd I say? No! Don't want to.
She and I really are alike.
Not at all!
What kind of relationship d'you want with your mother?
That of childhood's impossible now.
You speak of feeling guilty, because she
sacrificed her life for you...
There's nothing you can do about it.
She wants you to be a child again,
so she could take care of you and protect you.
I'm meddling again...
As always...
What're you howling about? Tell me!
Should I marry him or not?
Do I know him?
No...
Is he a Ukrainian?
What's that have to do with it?
- What does he do? - He's a writer.
His name isn't Dostoyevsky, by any chance?
Never wrote a thing, no one ever heard of him.
Is he about 40? Then he is a mediocrity.
You've changed so.
He has no talent, doesn't write a thing.
He does, but it isn't published.
Look, our dear dunce has started a fire.
Don't be so sarcastic about his poor marks.
He'll drop out and be drafted,
and you'll try hard to get him deferred.
It's all the results of your upbringing.
The army won't k*ll him, you know.
Why don't you phone your mother?
She was ill for three days after Liza's death.
I didn't know.
I expected her at 5 today.
Can't you take the first step?
We were talking about Ignat.
Maybe I'm to blame, too.
Or have we just became bourgeois?
A primeval Asiatic kind of bourgeois.
Prospering when there's no private property.
It's incomprehensible.
Why are you so irritable?
My friends' 15-year-old son said to them:
"I'm leaving home, I can't stand
"all this hypocrisy."
What a smart boy! Compared to our booby.
Too bad, our son will never say such a thing.
Some friends you have!
They're no worse than us. He's a newspaperman.
Thinks he's a writer, too, by the way.
He just can't understand
that a book's a deed, not a paycheck.
A poet must stir the soul,
not nurture idolaters.
But what I'll do?
Get married.
Do you remember,
whom the angel appeared to as a burning bush?
No, not to Ignat at any rate.
Should we sent him to a m*llitary school?
The angel appeared to Moses.
Why didn't anything like that ever appear to me?
I keep having the same dream.
He seems to be forcing me to return
to the bitter sweet site,
of my grandfather's house,
where I was born on the table 40 years ago.
Something always prevents me from entering.
I keep having my dream.
When I dream of the log walls and dark pantry,
I sense that it's only a dream.
Then my joy is clouded, for I know I'll wake up.
Sometimes something happens, and I stop dreaming
of the house and the pines by the house of my childhood.
Then I grieve
and wait for the dream,
that will make me a child again,
and I'll be happy again knowing
that all still lies ahead,
and nothing is impossible...
Someone's there, mama.
Are you Nadezhda Petrovna?
I'm Matvei Ivanovich's stepdaughter.
He was a friend of your husband.
He's a doctor. He used to live here,
but then he moved to Yuryevets, he became a medical expert.
Do you live in the city?
We're from Moscow, but we have a room in Yuryevets.
We were evacuated last fall.
Moscow was bombed. I've two children.
My mother has friends here...
My husband's in the city today.
Stop scratching yourself.
I've come to see you. It's a private matter.
Come in. Don't stand here...
Wipe your feet. Masha washed the floors.
Wait here. I won't be long.
Why're you in the dark? Did it go out?
Why didn't you call us?
- What's your name? - Alyosha.
I've a son, too, but he's a baby.
It's not easy to bring up children in wartime.
Still I'd like a daughter.
Want to see him? He's sleeping.
He's a darling boy.
He asked his father,
why a 5 kopeck coin is bigger than a 10 kopeck one?
Imagine! My husband was speechless.
He wanted a girl. He even had a name for her.
I made pink baby clothes.
Then I had to make others.
He gave us quite a bit of trouble...
Did we wake you up?
What a chatterbox your mother is.
See, who's here?
Don't know them?
You can't wake up, can you?
Go back to sleep then, love.
How do I look? How's the ring?
- What's the matter? - I don't feel well.
You are just tired. I didn't realize it.
I should've put up supper.
Please, don't bother.
We ate before we started out.
What a nasty cough.
My husband should have a look at him.
We can't wait. It's a 2 hour walk back.
What about the earrings? My husband has the money.
We'll slaughter a cockerel. But do me a favor...
I'm 3 months gone and feel nauseous all the time.
Even milking the cow makes me sick.
As for the cockerel...
Could you?
But I...
You, too?
No, I've just never done it.
There's nothing to it.
I do it here on the block.
Here's the axe. It's very sharp.
- Right here? - Over a basin.
I'll give you a hen tomorrow.
I can't do it.
Perhaps ask Alyosha. He's a man, after all.
No, not Alyosha.
Hold it tight or it'll wreck the place.
Don't fret. You'll be all right.
Too bad, I only see you
when I'm really sick.
Here I am, born aloft.
What's the matter, Marusya? Speak to me.
Don't be so surprised.
I love you.
You leaving? But the earrings?
My husband will be back soon.
- He's got the money. - We changed our minds.
It's 15 miles to town. It'll be dark soon.
It's all right. Don't worry.
A man has one body, so solitary.
The soul is sick of this solid sheath
With ears and eyes The size of buttons.
And skin, a mass of scars, A skeleton's robe.
Fly through the cornea To the heavenly spring
To the icy spoke To the bird's chariot.
Through the prison bars it hears
The clamour of woods and leaves The trumpet of the seas.
A soul without a body is like A body without a shirt,
Not a thought or a deed, Not a line or a concept.
A riddle that has no answer: Who'll return
To dance, where there's No one to dance?
I dream of another soul, Dressed in other garb.
It flits from doubt to hope.
Burning without a shadow like alcohol, and slips away.
Leaving a memento Some lilac on the table.
Child, fret not Over poor Eurydice
But drive your copper hood Through life,
While in response To every step
You have the Earth reply, Merry is its voice and dry.
The stove's smoking, mama.
It all depends on him.
Is a strep throat that dangerous?
What has a strep throat to do with it?
It's a usual occurrence.
A mother, wife,
child die suddenly...
And a person wastes away in a few days.
But no one d*ed in his family.
There's his conscience... his memory...
What has memory to do with it?
Is he guilty of something?
He thinks he is.
Leave me alone!
Leave me alone!
I just wanted to be happy.
What will happen to your mother if you die?
Everything will be
all right...
Everything will be...
Do you want a boy or a girl?
Mirror, The (1975)
Moderator: Maskath3