Палата №6 / Ward No.6

MOSFILM
Courier Studio
presents
a Karen Shakhnazarov fiIm
KozIov VIadimir, born in '79, August15th.
How Iong have you been here?
It's my fifth year here.
And before that?
Moscow's boarding home 30.
And before that it was the schooI for handicapped chiIdren.
I got there after...
After my parents abandoned me at five,
I mean they didn't exactIy abandon me,
they were deprived ofthe parents' rights
and I was given pubIic custody.
I had good teachers,
they taught me a Iot:
cooking and sports.
- So you can cook? - Yes.
What can you cook?
SaIads... OIivier, Captain's,
rissoIes and omeIette...
Have you got a dream?
- I have. - What is it?
I want to Ieave here,
have famiIy, chiIdren, work...
Cos I'm fed up...
Twenty-five years of Iife at pubIic expense
because of my parents,
those aIkies
deprived oftheir parents' rights...
They were gone before theirtime.
They had Ieft me to the mercy offate.
I was three when they sent me to orphanage.
My own parents!
I remember it weII.
So I grew...
a hooIigan...
Ifthey had taken care of me
when I was a IittIe boy
I might have become a normaI man.
Not the man I'm now.
But they gave me up, didn't bring me up
so there I am.
OnIy death can change me.
I have a mother.
GoreIova NataIy.
She Iives in Ossipenko Street.
I have never in my Iife
seen her.
She disowned me right after I was born.
She gave to another...
I was onIy two years oId.
Have you a dream?
Sure. I want a wife...
I want to find me a girI.
Dream?
WeII, you see,
you shouIdn't beIieve dreams. They never come true.
So I don't have a dream.
There's just one dream,
I want to Ieave
this monastery.
Yes, I was baptized.
But there's no faith to speak of
cos even science
can't prove they are up there.
I have faith in myseIf
and my potentiaI.
Good is strongerthan eviI it is said.
EviI can never
overcome good
but good can.
I mean it'II triumph.
- How good you have faith. - I do and I wiII.
W A R D No.6
Based on Anton Chekhov's Story 'Ward No.6'
Starring
Dr. Ragin - VIadimir IIyin
Ivan Gromov - AIexei Vertkov
Khobotov - Evgeny Stychkin
MikhaiI Averianovich - AIexander Pankratov- Cherny
Nikita - Victor SoIovyov
Written by AIexander Borodyansky Karen Shakhnazarov
Directed by Karen Shakhnazarov
with participation ofAIexander Gornovsky
Director of Photography AIexander Kuznetsov
Artistic Director LudmiIa Kusakova
Music by Evgeny Kadimsky
Sound by GuIsara Mukataeva
Edited by Irina Kozhemyakina
GeneraI Producer Karen Shakhnazarov
Executive Producer GaIina Shadur
In1606, at the curve ofthe Vop river
monk VarIaam and aged nuns
Evdokia and UIania
buiIt a wooden chapeI for St. NichoIas.
AfterVarIaam's death
homeIess foIk settIed here
with their Ieader Biriuk, a fugitive peasant and former highwayman.
Legend has it that seeking forgiveness for his sins,
he Iived in a cave nearthe chapeI.
And the settIement on the Vop river
was named after him: Biriukian hermitage.
In1630,
a brick church was buiIt on the site ofthe chapeI
and a monastery founded.
In1728,
during construction work
a shrine was found
with a young girI
in expensive garments embroidered in siIk and goId.
The inscription on the siIver pIate attached to the shrine
read: 'AuIiana, princess of OIshansk.
The maiden died when she was fifteen.'
After1917 the monastery accommodated
a home for disabIed persons
who Iived there aIong with the monks.
After1934
it housed a TB hospitaI.
In1962
it was made into a Iunatic asyIum.
Schizophrenia is
the most widespread psychiatric disease.
The name was suggested by German doctor BIeiIer
back in the17th century.
The Greek 'schizo' means 'to spIit'
and 'phren', is mind.
IncidentaIIy, the borderIine between psychotic
and normaI peopIe is
pretty iIIusory.
It wouId be correct to say
that aII of us have mentaI disorders,
in Iow-intensive form.
How do you diagnose it?
There are methods gaIore.
One is smeII. Yes, a schizophrenic has the smeII
of rancid oiI and aImond.
Dostoyevsky was an epiIeptic.
Maupassant was Iooked upon as eccentric
untiI he - sorry!- urinated by the front door.
GogoI died of exhaustion.
He refused to take food - a typicaI symptom.
We here have our genius too.
This way pIease.
He painted pictures...
One gentIeman who came from Moscow
said, 'Your patient is
a great avant-gardist.'
Let's see him.
HeIIo, Nikita.
Igor YakovIevich.
- Are you an artist? - Yes, I am.
- An avant-gardist? - No, I'm a reaIist.
- They say you're an avant-gardist. - I'm a reaIist.
What do you know about avant-gardists?
They are in the forefront.
Where did you Iearn painting?
My grandpa was an artist.
He drew StaIin, the19th party congress.
- How did you get here? - He broke a drugstore window.
Why did you do that?
There was a human skeIeton there.
I'm asking him.
- How are you feeIing? - I've recovered, thank you.
- How's he now? - He hears voices.
- Do you hear voices? - Sure.
You're taIking to the doctor. I can hear you weII.
- You must be tired. Have a rest. - Too many injections.
WeII... Who eIse?
Here's AIex.
- How oId are you? - I'm 43.
You Iook young for your age.
- How are you? - I'm fine and heaIthy.
Why are you here then?
My neighbors irradiate me.
How?
They have a speciaI device.
But why?
I dunno. Perhaps they don't want me aIive.
So they are bad, eh?
I guess so.
Do you Iike it here? Any compIaints?
No, this is a top-IeveI hospitaI.
My doctortaught me to sit right.
Like this.
Okay, get weII, AIex. And who is this?
His namesake Pankratov.
Got here in1997.
Said he had kiIIed John Lennon on orders from Yuri Andropov.
- What's with him? - He hears voices.
- You hear voices? - I do.
- You Iook happy. - The voices are good.
- MaIe orfemaIe voices? - Both maIe and femaIe.
- AII ofthem good. - I see.
Acute schizophrenia.
Here's Ivan.
- How are you? - I'm fine.
This is Ivan Gromov.
Persecution mania...
My predecessor, Dr. Ragin, beIieved him to be a prophet...
How is Ragin now?
No change.
- Is he in your unit? - Yes.
- He's the former chief doctor? - Yes, he is.
Such things do occur.
- Can I taIk to him? - No. He doesn't taIk.
Can I see him?
Yes, of course, if you Iike.
- WiII you show him the way? - Yes, certainIy.
If you have questions I'II be in my office.
Nikita, come with me.
Right.
Here is ourAndrei Efimovich.
How are you feeIing today?
- Does he ever speak? - Nope. He had a stroke.
- Did you work with him? - No, I came here Iater.
- What happened to him? - I don't know the particuIars.
You better ask Khobotov.
He worked with him.
Come on in. Everybody take his seat.
Did you take your seats, guys?
- Good appetite. - Thanks.
Good appetite, Andrei Efimovich.
You were the chief doctor before Dr.Ragin?
Right. I was the chief doctor before Dr.Ragin.
When Dr.Ragin arrived here to repIace me
the hospitaI was in a parIous pIight.
In corridors and wards you hardIy drew breath forthe stink.
The patients compIained
that roaches, bed-bugs and mice made their Iives a misery.
I soId surgicaI spirit on the sIy.
Set up a reguIar harem
among my nurses and women patients.
I hear Ragin, after Ieaving schooI, proposed
to entertheoIogicaI coIIege.
But his father, an MD and surgeon,
announced categoricaIIy
he'd disown the boy if he became a cIeric.
How true that is I have no idea,
but Ragin himseIf often confessed
he never had any vocation for medicine.
Ragin had a smaII growth on his neck.
He didn't dress Iike a medicaI man.
He wore the same suit forten years on end,
whiIe his new cIothes
Iooked just as worn and disheveIed on him as the oId.
He saw his patients, ate his meaIs and went visiting
aII in the same oId frock-coat.
And this not out of meanness
but because he just didn't care about his appearance.
Dr.Ragin easiIy diagnosed women's aiIments
and even attended confinements
at first.
We were very cIose.
But not for Iong.
One day he said to me:
'Why prevent peopIe from dying
if death is
a normaI and naturaI end of everyone?'
I came to this town two years ago.
The hospitaI was a sorry sight
but Ragin took those irreguIarities with indifference.
I didn't approve of it
but I didn't introduce improvements
Iest I offended Ragin.
I considered him an oId rogue
and secretIy envied him. I wouId've Iiked his job.
One day I caIIed on Dr.Ragin on business.
He was out and I went out to Iook for him.
I was toId
the chief doctor was in Ward No.6
with the mentaI patients.
I was the onIy person in town
whose company didn't depress Dr.Ragin.
I'd say entering his quarters: 'WeII, here I am.
HeIIo there, my good feIIow.
You must be tired of me by now, what?'
'Farfrom it,' the doctorwouId answer.
And we'd sit down and start the baII roIIing.
I sometimes fiImed it.
I Iike to fiIm. I wanted to be a camera operator once.
I've got a good video camera.
But there's no sound
and they can't fix it in this town.
Anyway, it fiIms weII...
The doctor aIways opened our discussion.
He'd compIain that ourtown totaIIy Iacked peopIe
who couId orwouId conduct
an inteIIigent conversation.
'Even our inteIIigentsia doesn't rise above vuIgarity.'
I'd answer: 'You get no sense out of peopIe these days.'
How heaIthy, happy and interesting Iife was
in the oId days!
What a briIIiant inteIIigentsia Russia once had:
what women, what adventures!
How we drank and ate!
What frantic IiberaIs we were!
One day the doctortoId me
that he met one more person who was fond of discoursing.
I am Gromov Ivan Dmitrievich.
I attended St.Petersburg University,
received money from my father
and didn't know what hardship was.
My fatherwas prosecuted forforgery and embezzIement
and died in the prison hospitaI.
I had to change my way of Iife abruptIy.
Did coaching for a pittance and stiII went hungry
since I had to send aII my earnings to keep my mother.
I couIdn't stand the Iife
and gave up the university to come home.
I became a court usher.
One day I came across two convicts escorted by two guards.
It suddenIy dawned on me that I myseIf
might be cIapped in irons and hauIed offto prison.
On my way home I met the poIice inspector I knew
who gave me good day and waIked a few steps down the street with me.
This struck me as suspicious.
I had done nothing wrong.
But was it difficuIt to commit a crime accidentaIIy?
CouId faIse accusations and judiciaI miscarriages reaIIy be ruIed out?
A fat hope, then, offinding justice and protection
in this fiIthy IittIe town
a hundred and twenty miIes from the raiIway!
In spring two corpses were found in a guIIey
nearthe cemetery: an oId woman and a boy
bearing signs of death by vioIence.
These corpses and the murderer became the taIk ofthe town.
To show that I wasn't the kiIIer
I'd waIk the streets smiIing.
I dashed down the street.
I thought aII the vioIence on earth
was behind my back and was pursuing me.
I was caught and taken home. A doctorwas sent for.
Dr.Ragin prescribed IaureI-water drops
and toId the neighbor he wouIdn't come again
because he couIdn't stop a man taking Ieave of his senses.
I asked him to reIease me.
'What wouId you gain if I did reIease you?' he answered.
'Go, go...'
You might as weII give Moses feIt boots or something,
or eIse he'II catch coId.
Very good. I'II notify the Iaundry keeper.
PIease, ask her in my name, wiII you?
TeII her I said so.
The doctor's here!
CongratuIations, gentIemen! The doc honors us with his presence!
You bIoody rat! KiII the vermin!
Drown him in the Iatrine!
- What for? - What for?
Thief!CharIatan! Butcher!
CaIm yourseIf, pIease. What are you so angry about?
Why do you hoId me here?
Because you are iII.
But there are dozens, hundreds of madmen at Iarge.
So why shouId I - and these wretches - be cooped up here?
The hospitaI riff-raff are immeasurabIy Iower
on the moraI scaIe than any of us.
So why are we shut up? Why not you? Where's the Iogic of it?
MoraIity and Iogic are neither here northere.
It's aII due to chance.
Whoever has been put in here stays put,
and whoever hasn't, runs about outside.
There's no moraIity or Iogic about my being a doctor
and your being a mentaI patient, it's sheer bIind chance.
That gibberish means nothing to me.
- Let me out of here. - I can't.
- Why not? - It's not in my power.
What wouId you gain if I did reIease you? Go.
If you went off...
they'II pick you up and bring you back.
Yes, yes...
Quite true.
It's awfuI.
But what am I to do?
You ask me what to do?
The best thing in your position wouId be to run away.
But that's no use... as you'd onIy be picked up.
Society's aII powerfuI
when it protects itseIf
from criminaIs, mentaI patients
and other awkward customers.
There's onIy one thing you can do:
accept the idea
that you're a fixture here.
But what use is it to anyone?
Since there are prisons and Iunatic asyIums
someone must be shut up in them, mustn't they?
If not you, then I, if not I, then someone eIse.
Just wait untiI prisons and asyIums
cease to exist in the distant future,
then there won't be bars on the windows or hospitaI smocks.
Sooner or Iater that time wiII come.
You're joking.
You and your minion Nikita have no concern with the future,
you haven't.
But bettertimes are on the way!
I may sound banaI, you may Iaugh at me, but a new Iife wiII dawn!
Justice shaII triumph! I shan't see it, I'II be dead,
but someone's great-grandchiIdren wiII Iive to see it.
I greet'em with aII my heart. March forward and God be with you!
From behind these bars I bIess you. I rejoice!
I see no speciaI cause for rejoicing.
There wiII be no prisons or asyIums
and justice shaII indeed prevaiI as you say.
But the reaI essence ofthings won't change.
The Iaws of nature wiII stay as they are.
PeopIe are going to faII iII, grow oId and die, just as they do now.
And gIoriousIy as your dawn may irradiate your Iife,
you'II stiII end up
naiIed in your coffin and thrown in a pit.
But what about immortaIity?
Oh, reaIIy!
You may not beIieve in it...
but I do.
Someone in Dostoyevsky orVoItaire says
that if God didn't exist man wouId have invented Him.
I beIieve that ifthere's no such thing
as immortaIity human genius wiII sooner or Iater invent it.
WeII said.
I'm gIad you're a beIiever.
With such faith one couId Iive even immured inside a waII.
You're a thinking, thoughtfuI man.
You can find consoIation inside yourseIf in any surroundings.
Diogenes Iived in a barreI,
but was happierthan aII the emperors ofthis worId.
Your Diogenes was an ass.
Why aII this stuff about Diogenes?
I Iove Iife passionateIy! I have persecution mania,
I suffer constant, agonizing fear but...
there are moments when such a Iust for Iife comes over me
that I fear my brain wiII burst.
I've a tremendous appetite for Iife, tremendous!
In my day-dreams I see visions, peopIe sort of haunt me,
I hear voices and music,
I seem to be waIking through a forest
or aIong a beach.
And I do so Iong forthe hum and bustIe of Iife.
TeII me now, what's the news?
In town or in generaI?
Oh, teII me about the town first.
AII right.
The town is an abysmaI bore,
what with no one to taIk to.
No new faces.
ActuaIIy though a young doctor turned up recentIy,
Khobotov.
What's he Iike then, pretty crude?
WeII, he's not exactIy cuItured.
It's odd, you know.
There's no mentaI stagnation in the capitaI,
so they must have some pretty impressive peopIe around.
But why do they aIways send us peopIe
ofwhom the Iess said the better.
- Unfortunate town! - Yes, unfortunate indeed.
What's the matter?
Not one more word wiII you hearfrom me.
Leave me aIone...
Leave me aIone, to bIazes...
One day I asked the doctor
if he beIieved in immortaIity.
'No, my dear MikhaiI, I do not, nor have I any grounds
for so beIieving,' he answered.
I admit I have my doubts too.
ActuaIIy, though, I do sort offeeI
I'II never die.
Dear me, thinks I to myseIf, it's time you were dead,
but a IittIe voice inside me says no, you aren't going to die.
I had known Dr.Ragin for 20 years,
I Iived next door.
He Iived aIone
and I heIped him about the house.
He wouId rise at about 8 a.m.
have tea and go to the hospitaI.
He'd come back at 2 p.m.,
sit down in his study and start reading.
He read a Iot.
His preference was for historicaI and phiIosophicaI works.
He spent haIf his saIary on books.
He bought a Iot...
He kept a carafe of vodka near his book,
whiIe a saIted gherkin Iay on the tabIe.
Every haIf hour he poured himseIf
a gIass of vodka,
drank it, then groped forthe gherkin.
At four o'cIock he cautiousIy approached the kitchen and said,
'How about a spot to eat?'
After Iunch he paced his quarters,
his arms foIded on his chest. He was thinking.
At five I'd say,
'Isn't it time for your beer, Doctor?'
'No, not yet.
I'II just, er, wait a IittIe.'
Towards evening the postmaster wouId arrive.
Quite often I didn't find him in.
This had never happened before.
His maid was embarrassed
to see the doctor being Iate for Iunch.
ActuaIIy, he'd come Iater and Iater.
A rumor swept the town:
the doctor
began to pay visits to Ward No.6.
It wasn't cIear why he'd stay there
for hours on end and what they taIked about...
My name is Nikita,
I've worked here as orderIy for 20 years.
Once whiIe in the Iobby, I heard Dr.Ragin's voice
in Ward No.6.
I peeped into it.
The doctor and Gromov sat on the bed.
The madman was grimacing,
the doctor sat stiII.
His face was sad.
On the next day
I came there with Dr.Khobotov.
We were eavesdropping.
Khobotov said, grinning,
'Our oId man must have Iost his wits.
I've been Iong expecting it.' That's what he said.
What month is it now, October?
Yes, it's the end of October.
- Is it muddy outside? - No, not very.
I'd Iike to go somewhere out oftown,
then come home to a warm, comfortabIe study
where some proper doctor wouId cure my headache.
It's ages since I Iived Iike a human being.
There's no difference between a warm, comfortabIe study and this ward.
- Meaning what? - Man finds peace...
and contentment within him, not in the worId outside.
Go and preach that phiIosophy in Greece,
it doesn't fit our cIimate.
Who was I discussing Diogenes with - not you, was it?
Yes.
Diogenes needed no study orwarm buiIding,
It was warm there. He couId just Iie in his barreI
munching oranges.
If he had to Iive in Russia, he'd be begging to be aIIowed
indoors in May.
He'd be doubIed up with coId.
No. One can ignore coId,
just Iike any other pain.
A thinking individuaI... It's this contempt for suffering
which distinguishes him. He's aIways content
and nothing ever surprises him.
I must be an idiot then,
since I suffer, I'm discontented
and surprised at human depravity.
Don't say that. If you meditate more
you'II appreciate the insignificance
of aII those externaIs that so excite us.
One must seek the meaning of Iife, therein Iies true happiness.
Meaning of Iife...
What grounds have you for preaching?
Have you ever suffered?
Were you beaten as a chiId?
No, my parents abhorred corporaI punishment.
WeII, my father beat me crueIIy...
But Iet's go on about you.
No one ever Iaid a finger on you in your Iife,
norfrightened or hit you. You grew up
under you dad's wing, you studied at his expense,
you picked up a softjob straight away.
Being Iazy and spineIess by nature,
you tried to arrange things so
that nothing bothered you.
You deIegated yourjob to your assistant
whiIe you sat in the warmth and quiet,
reading books,
induIging yourseIf in specuIations
in the sphere of higher nonsense and by hitting the bottIe.
You've never seen Iife,
you know nothing about it.
You're conversant with reaIity onIy in theory.
It's the phiIosophy best suited
to a typicaI IackadaisicaI Russian.
Say you see a peasant beating his wife.
Why meddIe? Let him beat away,
they're gonna die anyway sooner or Iater.
Besides, that peasant is degrading himseIfwith his bIows.
Getting drunk is stupid, it's not respectabIe,
but you die if you drink
and you die if you don't.
A peasant woman comes aIong with toothache.
Pain is just the impression offeeIing pain,
besides, no one can get through Iife without sickness.
So Iet that woman cIear out and Ieave me my meditations and vodka.
It's a convenient phiIosophy. You don't have to do anything,
your conscience is cIear and you think yourseIf a sage.
You may despise suffering but you catch yourfinger
in the door and I bet you'II scream your head off.
- Or perhaps not. - You damn weII wouId!
And suppose you became paraIysed.
Or some crass upstart insuIted you in pubIic.
That wouId teach you to refer peopIe
to the meaning of existence and true bIiss.
That is highIy originaI.
Your bent for generaIizations impresses me
most agreeabIy,
whiIe your character-sketch of me...
quite briIIiant, sir!
I enjoy taIking to you hugeIy I do confess.
I advised my friend to give up vodka and beer.
But as a man oftact I didn't come straight out, I hinted at it.
I spoke of some battaIion CO ('grand chap')
who had taken to drink and faIIen iII,
but compIeteIy recovered after going on the wagon.
Dr.Khobotov aIso advised him
to give up spirits
and recommended him to take... er...
potassium bromide.
In November Dr.Ragin was summoned by his superiors.
You've quite forgotten us, Doctor.
But then you're a bit of a monk - don't pIay cards,
don't Iike women. You're bored with the Iikes of us.
Living in this town... Oh, what a bore!
No theatre, no music.
It's a pity ourtownsfoIk
squandertheir vitaI energies, their hearts and minds
on cards and gossip...
They won't find time for interesting conversation and reading.
What is today's date, Dr.Ragin?
November 29th.
And year?
2007.
How many days are there in the year?
365.
Is it true that Ward No.6 houses
a remarkabIe prophet?
Yes, it's a patient
but an interesting young feIIow.
It's time we oId feIIows were put out to grass, Doctor...
You need rest.
Why don't you take a month's Ieave and go some pIace.
Say to AntaIia.
Last year I was so pooped.
I spent a month in AntaIia
and became myseIf again.
I wouId Iike
to tender my resignation.
I caIIed on him that evening.
The doctors kept the truth from him
but I gave it to him straight from the shouIder, soIdier Iike.
I toId him he was not weII,
everyone had noticed it some time ago.
I asked him to come with me as he needed a change of scene.
Ragin said
he feIt compIeteIy weII and couIdn't go with me
but then asked where I was thinking of going.
I said Moscow.
I had spent the five happiest years of my Iife in Moscow.
In Moscow I first
took my friend to see the Iverian church.
I prayed ferventIy
bowing to the ground and weeping.
I said to Andrei Iater:
'Even if you aren't a beIiever,
you feeI easier after a spot of prayer.'
Embarrassed, Ragin kissed the icon.
Then we went to the KremIin.
We saw the Tsar Cannon and the Tsar BeII,
even touching them.
We visited St.Saviour's CathedraI.
Ragin didn't Iike Moscow
as it was teeming with crooks.
And those traffic jams!
I said that Moscow was a staggering city.
I had spent the five happiest years of my Iife there.
Ragin said: 'You go by yourseIf
and Iet me go home!'
He stayed in his hoteI room and Iay on the sofa,
furious.
In Moscow I Iost aII my money gambIing.
I borrowed 20,000 rubIes from Ragin
and stiII haven's paid it back.
He doesn't need it,
what?
We returned home in December.
Dr.Ragin was quite iII.
I feIt obIiged to visit and entertain him.
He said once
that sooner or Iaterwe were aII bound to die
and vanish without a trace.
If one imagined a ghost
fIashing past the earth
in a miIIion years' time,
it wouId see nothing
but cIay and naked crags.
CuIture, moraI Iaws... It wiII aII disappear,
it won't even have burdocks growing on it.
He aIso said he pictured the gIobe
in a miIIion years' time:
jack-booted Khobotov
popping up behind a naked crag.
The doctortwice went to taIk
to Gromov in Ward No.6
but Gromov asked to be Ieft in peace
and required ofthese damn bIackguards
one recompense: soIitary confinement.
As the doctorwas taking fareweII,
Gromov snarIed and toId him to go to heII.
Dr.Khobotov and MikhaiI
came after Iunch.
Dr.Ragin Iay on the sofa.
Dr.Khobotov said,
'It's high time you were on the mend.'
MikhaiI guffawed
and said, 'The doctor
is on the mend aII right and wiII Iive
another hundred years.
And we'II be offto the Caucasus next summer
and ride aII over it on horseback.
Back home it'II be wedding beIIs forthe doctor.
We'II marry you off.'
Dr.Ragin rose to his feet
and said: 'That's pretty cheap!'
He cIenched his fists
Iifting them above his head
and shouted:
'CIear out of here! Both of you,
cIear out!'
MikhaiI and Khobotov stood up and stared at him.
Ragin kept shouting:
'I don't need yourfriendship,
you oaf, or your medicines!'
And hurIed the fiaI afterthem.
The two backed toward the door
and the doctor beIIowed:
'Go to heII! To bIazes with you!'
He Iay on the sofa trembIing as ifwith a fever
and kept repeating:
'ImbeciIes! HaIf-wits!'
MikhaiI,
I apoIogize for yesterday.
We'II forget the whoIe thing.
Yesterday's attack aIarmed the doctor and myseIf.
Why won't you take
your heaIth seriousIy, oId man?
You can't go on Iike this.
Excuse an oId friend's bIuntness...
But you Iive under most unsuitabIe conditions:
dirty, with no one to nurse you
and no money fortreatment.
The doctor and I do beg you
earnestIy
to heed our advice and go into hospitaI.
You'II be properIy fed and nursed and receive treatment there.
Khobotov may be a bit uncouth between ourseIves.
StiII he does know his stuff and he's compIeteIy reIiabIe.
He has promised to attend to you.
Don't beIieve a word of it! It's aII a trick.
There's onIy one thing wrong with me: it has taken me 20 years
to find one inteIIigent man in town and he is insane.
I'm not iII at aII.
I'm just trapped in a vicious circIe from which there is no way out.
Go to the hospitaI, my dearfeIIow.
It can be a hoIe for aII I care.
Promise me you'II do everything Dr.Khobotov says.
I promise. But I repeat I'm caught up in a vicious circIe.
Everything, even my friends' sincere sympathy,
tends the same way now: to my ruin.
You'II get better.
Why taIk Iike that?
Most peopIe go through it at the end oftheir Iives.
When you are toId you have something Iike bad kidneys
you take treatment...
orwhen you're caIIed a Iunatic or a criminaI,
then you can be sure you're trapped in a vicious circIe
from which you'II never escape.
The more you try to get away the more you're enmeshed in the toiIs.
You may as weII give in
because no human effort wiII save you now.
Late that afternoon
I unexpectedIy presented myseIfto Dr.Ragin
and said in a tone which seemed
to dismiss the previous day's happenings.
'I have some business with you, dear coIIeague.
Now how about coming aIong
to a IittIe consuItation?'
Dr.Ragin put his hat and coat on and we went into the street.
'And where is your patient?' he asked.
I said he's in the hospitaI
and I'd been wanting to show him that for a Iong time:
a most fascinating case.
Entering the hospitaI yard,
we skirted the main bIock
on the way to the hut
where the Iunatics were housed...
AII this in siIence. As we entered the hut
Nikita jumped up as usuaI
and stood to attention.
'One ofthem has a Iung compIication,'
I said in an undertone
entering Ward No.6 with Dr.Ragin.
Now, you wait here, I'II be back in a moment.
I'II just fetch my stethoscope.
And I Ieft...
One ofthem has
a Iung compIication.
Now, wait here, I'II be back in a moment.
I'II just fetch my stethoscope.
KindIy put this on,
sir.
Now, here's your bed, come this way.
It's aII right...
You'II get better, God wiIIing.
This is some misunderstanding.
It must be cIeared up!
Oho!
So they've shoved you in here too, oId man!
WeIcome indeed!
So far you've been the vampire, now it's yourturn.
- An exceIIent idea! - It's some misunderstanding.
Some misunderstanding.
Oh, bIast this Iife!
The reaIIy gaIIing, wounding thing is that it won't end
with any recompense for suffering or operatic apotheosis.
It wiII end in death.
Some guys wiII come
and drag one's corpse into a ceIIar by its hands and feet.
Oh, weII, we'II have fun in the next worId.
I'II come back here and haunt these rats. I'II scare them!
I'II turn their hairwhite!
I'm feeIing a IittIe Iow...
- How 'bout a spot of phiIosophy? - Oh, God...
You once remarked
there's no Russian phiIosophy,
but aII Russians, nonentities incIuded, are phiIosophers.
But the phiIosophic theorizings of nonentities don't do any harm.
So why Iaugh at my misfortunes, dearfriend?
And why shouIdn't nonentities phiIosophize
ifthey are dissatisfied?
An inteIIigent, proud, freedom-Ioving man...
his onIy outIet is to work in a dirty IittIe town,
surrounded by cupping-gIasses, Ieaches and mustard pIasters...
How bogus, how parochiaI, how cheap his Iife!
Stuff and nonsense!
If you hated doctoring you shouId have been a minister.
There's nothing one can be. We're so feebIe!
I used to be detached
and argue confidentIy and sensibIy,
but it onIy took a bit of rough handIing
to make me Iose heart and cave in.
We're a rotten, feebIe Iot!
You are the same. You're inteIIigent, you have integrity.
But bareIy were you Iaunched on Iife
before you tired and sickened.
You're feebIe, I teII you.
I'm just going out.
I'II teII them to bring us a Iight.
I can't manage Iike that.
Can't cope.
Nikita!
And where are you offto?
None ofthat, now. It's bed-time.
I onIy want a turn in the yard for a minute.
None ofthat, now. It ain't aIIowed, you know that.
But what does it matter if I go out for a bit?
I don't understand. I must go out! I've got to.
Don't ya gimme no troubIe. We can't have that.
What the heII is going on? What right has he to stop you?
How dare they keep us here?
No one may be deprived of Iiberty without a court order!
- It's an outrage!Sheertyranny! - Of course it is.
I must go out... I've got to...
Let me out of here, I teII you!
Do you hear me, you stupid bastard? Open up!
- BIoody savage! - Nikita!
On the next day Ragin neither ate nor drank
but Iay stiII and siIent.
Khobotov visited and asked questions.
Dr.Ragin didn't answer.
MikhaiI brought him tea and jam.
His maid came too and stood by his bed for a whoIe hour.
Late that afternoon Dr.Ragin had a stroke.
He opened his eyes and said:
'Most peopIe beIieve in immortaIity. Now, is there reaIIy such a thing?'
He twitched and pIunged into eternaI obIivion.
The orderIies came, seized his hands and feet and hauIed him off.
That's it.
Dr.Ragin had a stroke or cerebraI effusion,
it's an acute impairment of cerebraI circuIation
when the brain tissue is affected and its functions are disturbed.
I presume Dr.Ragin's first sensation was
of devastating feverish chiII and nausea.
A green Iight fIashed in his eyes.
I guess that being a doctor
he knew his end was near.
I mean, he didn't die but...
Some time ago I brought a dictaphone to Dr.Ragin's home
and turned it on
just forfun.
Fate Ianded us in a dump.
The most maddening thing is we'II die here.
That's me.
Life is a depIorabIe trap.
...against his wiII, by certain chance factors man...
And this is Dr.Ragin.
He wants to Iearn the meaning of existence - he's fobbed off
with absurdities. He knocks but no one opens.
Death approaches and he hasn't asked for it.
The past is odious and betterforgotten,
and the same is true ofthe present.
I'm serving a bad cause, I'm dishonest.
But I'm nothing in myseIf.
I'm onIy part of an inevitabIe sociaI eviI.
OfficiaIs are up to no good, they get paid for doing nothing.
So it's not my fauIt I'm dishonest, it's the fauIt ofthe age.
If I had been born 200 years Iater I'd have been different.
I--
WeII, the rest isn't him...
Now, I wish you a happy New Year
and the best of everything.
And heaIth. And now the presents.
Come and get it.
- Here... - Thank you.
- For you and him... - Thank you.
- Did everyone get it? - Yes...
- Go on, girIs. - Happy New Year, Merry Christmas.
The same to you. Thanks.
- Speedy recovery. - The same to you.
You'II ceIebrate with Unit Two.
Move, move...
- I'off. WiII you hang around? - Of course.
Now dance everybody.
I am Dr.Ragin's neighbor,
BeIova.
I've got two chiIdren.
No husband...
My Iover sometimes stayed
the night...
AIways drunk, he'd instaII himseIf in the kitchen
terrifying everybody...
cIamoring for vodka.
My kids were terrified
and cried...
The doctorwouId take them into his room
and Iay them to rest,
which gave him
great pIeasure.
- Remember uncIe Andrei? - Yes.
What kind of person was he?
He was nice. We Ioved him dearIy.
That's it..�