of capitulation.
On eterning the hall he was
surprised to see a French delegation,
"What? Have we lost the war
to France as well?"
Sonya, you should wear my boa.
- It's summertime, Mum.
A fur coat too.
As Herzen put it,
meeting a foreigner is a kind
of promotion for a Russian.
Come on... Okay, take my cameo.
You stole the show wearing it
at the New Year party.
The French are - cherchez la femme.
"Jemeny, Jemeny, and not
a word about vodka."
And the door! I've told you
to do it in leatherette.
They'll be shocked.
Their clochars live better than our writers.
- Hi.
- Hi.
Who told you to come?
And who's going to pay?
Not to fear, Mum. Not us.
Who then? Oh God, what's going on?
What? Caviar?
It's for the guests!
It's not the caviar.
Come with me. - Not the caviar?
Watch this. Some lav pan,
isn't it. - It's beautiful.
Oh, my God, it's terrific.
- Look at this tank.
- How did it all get here?
- Vive la France!
Oh this. I wish those French
visit us every month.
I can't promise that.
We'd give it a complete
overhaul.
I'm Krapivin Vladislav Andreyevich.
I'm Sonya. Sofia Vladimirovna.
Sofia Vladimirovna, I want
a word with you.
- Who is that?
- He's from the organs.
- What organs?
- lnternal secretion.
Good gracious! So it's you
who brought all this.
Well, I'll be damned.
Gee, I borrowed lots of money.
Can we eat it all?
Put it on the table
when the French pop comes.
But don't be overzealous.
What if the French pop'll
sweep it all? - No way. Ulcer.
Looks like you know everything.
It's part of my modest job
to know everything.
I know it's your air time
at 5 PM tomorrow.
Fly home as soon as it's over.
The table should be laid and you
in your Sunday best by 7 PM.
- Vous comprenez? - Ja, ja, naturlich.
Hey, I had a crazy dream.
Reagan...
some brass hats...
Professional disease,
the Vremya news program.
There was a jet plane too.
Some Chinese were boarding it.
I even remember the flight
number, 007.
I'm Bond. James Bond.
- Hi. Oh, where's everybody?
- Hi. In the kitchen.
- And why aren't you at your workplace?
- Sorry, I relaxed somewhat.
Just you wait.
Entrez, Sonya. We're baking potatoes.
Oh, how do I say it...
This is my wife Sonya...
This is Bernard... Come on, come on.
- Your husband said you are
a brunette. - He did?
- So you have a brunette to boot.
- He's just teasing you.
Mind the peels.
We couldn't get sauerkraut.
Comrade Sergeyev tried all
floors. It's the off season.
- Bernard here mentioned sauerkraut.
- No, no, no. Stop.
What's with you, Serge?
He says you are very beautiful.
Let's have a shot,
then we can admire women.
What did he say?
Bernard, stop seducing my wife.
He says Russian women
have soft hands.
He was thinking of his wartime
girlfriend, Nadya.
May she rest in peace.
Don't clink glasses, just down it.
May she rest in peace.
I don't know about Russian
women's hands being soft,
but my wife has hard fists.
When she fists my back
it's the fall of Pompeii.
When he looks at you
he's thinking of his sweetheart.
So this is the society of
French friendship.
Not only. Of French love too.
He returned to Paris after the war.
He got married, had children...
In February this year when he was
in his mansion in Biaritz,
he suddenly woke up at night.
Hie heart was aching
and he was perspiring.
He had dreamt of a woman
he didn't know
but she looked familiar.
She was in the sleigh,
a white shawl on her head.
The earth was snow-covered.
She was driving away,
waving him goodbye.
He knew it was Nadya.
Only not the Nadya he had known
but today's Nadya.
He decided to find her.
He knew that she lived in Vyazma
before the war. He went there...
Nadya died on the night
he dreamt about her.
And he realized that she was
saying goodbye to him that night.
Sit down to table, comrades.
Remember how you ate lamb
on St.Michele boulevard?
Oh yes. It was delicious.
Good, Bernard.
He says you went to a peep-