Doctor Zhivago

What are they like, these girls?

They're very good. A bit wild.

Spend their money quickly. Work hard.

- Are they literate?

- Some of them.

In and out of reformatories

from the day they were picked up.

Jobs like this. It's degrading.

They shouldn't use human beings

to move earth.

No.

And it's not efficient.

If they were to give me

two more excavators...

...I'd be a year ahead of the plan by now.

You're an impatient generation.

Weren't you?

Yes, we were. Very.

Don't be too impatient, Comrade Engineer,

we've come very far, very fast.

Yes, I know that, Comrade General.

Yes, but do you know what it cost?

There were children in those days

who lived off human flesh.

Did you know that?

What is your interest in this girl,

Comrade General?

She may be my brother's child.

- Yuri Andreyevich?

- Yes.

My half-brother, I should say.

If she is...

...she's also Lara's child.

The Lara?

The Lara, yes.

This is a new edition of the "Lara Poems."

Yes, I know.

We admire your brother very much.

Yes, everybody seems to, now.

Well, we couldn't admire him

when we weren't allowed to read him.

No.

Come in.

I sent for you, Comrade.

You're not in any trouble.

I'm General Yevgraf Andreyevich Zhivago.

I'm looking for someone.

Do you understand?

The person I'm looking for

would be my niece.

Please sit down.

Your name is--

Tonya Komarova, Comrade General.

They found you in Mongolia, didn't they?

- Yes, Comrade General.

- What were you doing there?

I was lost, Comrade General.

How did you come to be lost?

I've forgotten.

Was Komarovsky your father's name?

I suppose so, Comrade General.

You suppose so?

It's a common name.

Do you remember your father?

No.

Do you remember your mother?

Yes, I remember my mother.

What was her name?

"Mammy."

What was she like?

I mean, what did she look like?

Big.

Big?

I was little. She looked big.

- Can you read?

- Yes.

"Lara. A Cycle of Poems, by Y.A. Zhivago."

Not me. My half-brother.

The person I'm looking for...

...would be this man's daughter.

This would be her mother.

"Lara."

Did anybody ever call your mother Lara?

I don't know. I don't think so.

She's nice.

I'm not your niece, Comrade General.

Well, I'm nobody's idea of an uncle.

But if this man were my father,

I should want to know.

Did your mother ever tell you

your father was a poet?

Comrade General, my father wasn't a poet.

What was your father?

Not a poet.

Did you like your father?

I've forgotten.

But you liked your mother?

Yes, of course.

Does the name "Strelnikov"

mean anything to you? "Strelnikov"?

"Varykino"?

That's a place, not a person.

"Gromeko"?

- Gromeko?

- Yes.

You see...

...he lost his mother...

...at about the same age you were...

...when your mother lost you.

And, in the same part of the world.

Now is life's artful triumph

of vanities destroyed...

...for the spirit has vanished

from its tabernacle...

...its clay groweth black.

The vessel is shattered, voiceless,

emotionless, dead.

Committing which unto the grave,

let us beseech the Lord...

...that He will give her eternal rest.

Yuri?

You and your husband will dine with us,

Madame Gromeko.

Thank you, Father.

Will you lie down, then, Yuri?

Your mammy and I were great,

great friends, you know...

...so now we are going to look after you.

Thank you.

That's mother's.

It's yours now.

Yes, Yuri. Mammy left it to you.

In her will.

Do you know what a will is, old chap?

Money.

No, Yuri, just this.

Your daddy has all the money.

Can you play it?

I thought all the people in this part

of the world could play the balalaika.

You don't live here, do you?

No, we live in Moscow.

That's a long way from here,

but you will like Moscow.

- Won't he?

- In a bit.

It takes time

to get used to things, doesn't it?

Mother could play it.

Well, your mother was an artist, Yuri.

She could make this common

little instrument sound like two guitars.

Your mother had a gift.

Perhaps Yuri's got a gift.

Would you like lessons?

I can't play it.

Say good night to Yuri, Tonya.

He's your brother, now.

Good night, Yuri.

Good night, old chap.

Good night.

The Gromekos dldn't know

what to make of hlm.

He made hls reputatlon as a poet

whlle he was studylng to be a doctor.

He sald that poetry was no more

of a vocatlon than good health.

What he needed was a job.

Pretty?

Very.

Yeah. It's their right to be pretty.

What will you do next year, Zhivago?

I thought of doing general practice.

Think about doing pure research.

It's exciting, important, tender, beautiful.

General practice.

Life. He wants to see life. Well...

You'll find that pretty creatures

do ugly things to people.

What's your name?

Antipov.

Address?

I'll have these.

We have permission

from the chief of police.

- Well, you claim them at the station.

- When?

Now if you like.

Very well.

He's my brother.

Well, take him home, Miss.

Before he gets into trouble.

Pasha, please!

It's got to be done.

Pasha, why has it got to be done?

For them. For the Revolution.

- Pasha, they don't want a revolution.

- Yes, they do.

They don't know it yet,

but that's what they want.

Give me some of those, Comrade.

Pasha, are you a Bolshevik?

No. The Bolsheviks don't like me.

And I don't like them.

They don't know right from wrong.

Pasha Antipov, you're an awful prig.

Why did you tell him I was your brother?

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