with you.
I don't want to hide.
Listen to me please.
I am married.
I am married too. I have two
daughters, Marie-Louise and Natalie.
- Please, get in and go away.
- Sonya...
Are you going?
We don't have much time.
I'm leaving Moscow for good.
My contract expires in a week.
It does?
So much the better.
Please, get in, please!
I am awfully sorry.
But it's not going to work out. Goodbye.
- Where are you going?
- I'm gonna see Yuri.
Hi, Mama. How come you didn't call?
How's Dad doing?
I've got him some magazines.
As I was commuting to Moscow,
I recalled a funny story.
Once before the war I invited Granya
to the theater. "Anna Karenina" was on.
Is it that scandal-monger
who lived in a communal flat?
Come on. She's a nice Russian woman.
Of peasant stock.
It was wonderful.
Tarasova was superb.
A standing ovation. Tears.
I'm wiping my eyes too.
The play is over,
we are going home.
Granya doesn't say a word.
She's reliving it, I thought.
Suddenly she stops and says:
"Your Anna Karenina is a bitch."
And adds some strong words
I dare not quote.
Bravo! The real voice of
the people.
I was indignant then, yes.
But now I think Granya is
right... basically.
If an ageing woman sacrifices
the future of her husband and son,
hurling it into the furnace
of passion...
Not bad. Can I borrow it?
"The furnace of passion"!
I am not sorry for her. She
was motivated by selfishness.
Julia Apollinarievna, can't
you see I'm working.
Here's what I've written.
"A detachment led by Anna Karenina..."
lra, it's me. Did you tell
my mother? Stop wriggling.
Okay, lra, you can forget
my name.
- Goodbye.
Mama, we didn't even talk.
I've told you all I meant to.
Half a kilo of Russian cheese,
one butter,
and two bottles of milk.
Dusya, I said there's
no Russian cheese left.
Can't you see you're
compromising me?
I live in this neighborhood.
I could run into my neighbors
or family. lsn't it enough for you
to have met my husband's mother?
- Your mother-in-law? - Right.
What are you going to say
if we see her again?
I'll say I'm writing an article
on family relations.
Say, there's a big difference between
a Russian grandmother and a French one.
Funny. Very, very funny.
Oh my God! What shall I do?
Let's go into the club.
Buy us tickets, please.
- What's on? - Does it matter?
It doesn't. My son's over there.
Cover me, I beg you.
Figure two. A sad one.
So you're hooking up
silly Russian girls.
What's hookup?
Love a la Russe?
Then I want to hook you up
for the remaining six days.
And how are you going
to unhook me six days later?
What if I get hooked fast?
Are you going to cut my flesh?
You sound malicious.
- How old are you?
- Forty. - You're a sucker.
I'm much older than you. I'm 44.
What things can we share in common?
- What kind of future?
- Yeah. When you turn 100, I'll be only 96.
Stay calm, comrades.
It's a checkup.
We'll see why you're here
during working time.
Can we see the movie through?
Those whose papers are okay can.
- Give us the flick!
- Get your lDs ready.
You should always carry it
with you.
Come with me.
Why should we show you
our passports?
There's the law on labor
discipline.
- Is it a roundup?
- Yes.
That's a violation of human
rights.
Now you are talking about
human rights!
You'll bring in the Helsinki
accords next.
Sure. How dare you cut it short?
It's Andropov's falcons
crusading for discipline.
It's okay.
At 3 PM a person should be
at his work post.
- And you are not.
- My post is here.
Gee! A Finn?
- Further south.
- Zimbabwe?
- Further north.
- They leave and you scram.
- Many thanks.
Merci, madame.
I work 24 hours and I'm off 72 hours.
lnteresting work, yours.
It suits me. You can call and check.
We'll call and check.
Let's go out into the lounge.
You're crazy. I told you not to.
Please, don't.
What? lnvoices?
Yes, we got them. What invoices?
What are you doing? They've
treated us like decent