Anastasia

Hey, driver! Oh!

Happy Easter, Excellency. What is it you want, Stepan?

Could you drive to the Kasbek and ask General Bounine to come here immediately?

Isn't it too late for the church to save that master of yours?

Twenty-five francs? No. Ten.

On Easter night? Twenty.

Fifteen, Excellency. All right, Stepan.

Happy Easter to you. Please. Hurry.

Leave it to me. It's very urgent. Please.

Look, Bob. Don't you adore Russian food?

Faster! Faster!

Faster!

General, I'm just mad for your place.

It's always a pleasure to see you here, madame.

General Bounine, my husband.

Excuse me, General. The Count Beresoff is waiting outside in his taxi.

He has a message for you. From Stepan?

Yes. He says it is urgent. I'll be right out.

Will you forgive me for just a moment?

Is she here? Yes, sir.

Where? Over there. By the tree.

- Are you sure? - Yes, Excellency.

All right. Wait here.

Happy Easter. Happy Easter, Anna Koreff.

It is Anna Koreff. Or at least, so you were called in the asylum at Saint-Cloud.

You see the resemblance? No more than a hundred women might have.

There is nothing to fear, I promise you.

Why do you always run away? Always questions. I've lost the answers.

Perhaps if you hadn't told the nun who you were, there wouldn't be any questions.

Who am I? Grand Duchess Anastasia, I believe.

In an asylum, a nun might be mad.

It's contagious. Then you do admit you were in that asylum, don't you?

Stepan, are you positive she is the same woman you saw in Saint-Cloud?

- Yes, sir. - Come on.

Let me go, please! Let me go!

The general said to wait for him at the usual place.

Wait! How do you like that? The nerve of that Bounine.

Didn't he leave us a message? Yes. He said he'd be back shortly.

Late! Always late.

Petrovin, the hour has arrived for me to tell-I know.

You only tell me what you're going to tell Bounine.

Still, be happy now. In one week, you shall be telling it in prison.

Petrovin, I forbid that word.

I didn't hear it. It's the logical end to what was always a ridiculous scheme.

Ridiculous scheme, huh? But your eyes lit up like those of a mad monk

when you heard our tzar's daughter might be alive.

That was ridiculous.

And yours lit up when you heard he had a £10 million inheritance.

Equally ridiculous. Not equally.

The £10 million lie waiting in the Bank of England.

But the grand duchess Anastasia Nicolaevna lies buried in Russia.

Vodka? No, thank you. My digestion has been shocking

ever since Bounine decided to form our corporation.

Bounine decided? The idea was mine!

My years of banking experience are for nothing, huh?

I devised the method of selling shares to stockholders

to pay for the search for their beloved grand duchess.

I worked out the ratio of so many shares in her inheritance

to so many shares of our stock.

And my advice-I know! Bounine was nothing.

Bounine was nothing-

Good evening, comrades.

If the term doesn't grate on your white Russian ears.

Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. I-Excuse me.

The meeting is called to order. "Called to order." Just like that?

May we have the financial report, please?

The financial- Yes, the financial report.

There's another report, General. All in due time, Piotr Ivanovich.

Go ahead, Chernov.

As of today, our treasury shows assets

of, uh, here- exactly 5,250 francs.

That new suit looks very well on you, Chernov.

Am I wrong, or were there not some 9,000-odd francs at our last meeting?

My dear general, may I ask you-

May I ask you what paid for this club of yours?

15,000 francs from the stockholders, that's what!

We live in one room, Petrovin and I-Two.

We share the bedroom. This is not a meeting on your housing problem.

- Proceed with the accounts. - [ Chernov ] Housing problem, hmph!

Um, 275 francs to Natalya Yakovski,

formerly dressmaker to the imperial family.

Paid for the information received on clothes and measurements.

I see you have made good use of the information. I drew it myself.

Those are her exact measurements. The crown is a nice touch.

Yeah. A face would be a better one.

It's all too late now! We're facing disaster.

As a son of the former deacon to His Majesty's court, you should have more faith.

I wish my poor father, bless his soul, had had less.

All right, Chernov, please. Give him the news.

I would rather have his first.

Mine? I know that smile.

I'll bet you have another of your brilliant surprises for us.

Never mind. What happened, Petrovin? Chernov was called-

I was summoned by the stockholder's committee.

Oh, how kind of them. Kind, huh?

Old General Anikin came straight to the point.

"Years ago," he said, "rumors started that the grand duchess Anastasia Nicolaevna,

"daughter of His Imperial Majesty Nicholas II,

"had not been murdered with the rest of the royal family,

but had escaped miraculously."

"A year ago," he went on, "you and your friends came to us with the claim

"you knew Her Highness was somewhere in Berlin.

Then you said you found her, but she ran away."

Was it then we thought of using the redhead?

No, no, the one who was always giggling. Ah, yes, the redhead came later.

Go ahead. "Then," he said, "you needed more money to find her.

"Again we subscribed. Then you said you found her, but she was too sick.

More money." Too sick?

Oh, that was Galina. Too stupid. "How long can she be sick, Chernov?

How much money can you drain from our thin pockets, Chernov?"

How much have they got, Chernov? The joke is on us, General.

They give us exactly eight days. Eight days for what?

Eight days to produce Her Highness, the grand duchess Anastasia.

Or we go to prison for fraud. For fraud!

Well, it has taken them long enough. Is that all you can say?

It really sickens me how you let him make you suffer...

How you like to suffer... and you delight in making him suffer.

Not particularly. I merely thought it advisable

to determine exactly what our situation was

before suggesting how to deal with it. What did I tell you?

All right, General. Let's have your surprise. Where is she?

Where is who? The woman Stepan saw in the asylum in Saint-Cloud!

Correct. We have finally tracked her down.

Really? No!

Of course, she does not admit that she was there. No.

Really? Nor does she admit that she told a nun there

that she was the tzar's daughter. What does she admit?

Nothing. I think she may be lying. Then why do you believe-

But the important thing is that properly used, she may serve our purpose.

How? She has certain surprising features.

Such as? You will see.

She also has a rather intriguing strangeness.

Of course, that may be simply the result of amnesia.

Him and his surprises. If he were looking for a grand duke,

he wouldn't find so many. Stepan!

Bring her in.

Come over here.

Don't worry. These two gentlemen are friends.

Here. Sit down.

How about a glass of vodka? It'll do you good.

Thank you.

There's nothing to fear. They merely want to examine you.

Examine? Are they doctors?

They don't help. Doctors? No.

They are not doctors.

No, no. We should have kept the redhead.

The tzar's daughter drinks like a Cossack.

May I have a cigarette? Sure. Here.

Where am I? I told you. With friends.

- Strange. - What?

The resemblance to the other. Yes. Both female.

Have you gentlemen considered what she went through?

The streets, probably. I can imagine her walk.

Stand up. What did you say?

Ho, ho, ho! I said, "Stand up."

We would like to see you walk over to there, if you please.

Mm, no. At least with the redhead, we could have dyed her hair.

But a walk? The grand duchesses learned with books on their heads.

You could recognize them by their carriage alone.

Oh. Stone walls.

- What's she talking about? - Chernov?

That bookkeeper who nearly ruined you 12 years ago in the forgery affair...

Would you recognize his walk today?

Would you recognize the smile of a girl you knew 10 years ago?

I didn't think of that. You are both fools.

You're examining her as if she was the real Anastasia.

There is no Anastasia.

She was shot to death 10 years ago by a firing squad.

We're not looking for her, gentlemen.

We're seeking only a reasonable facsimile.

Reasonable, yes. But that is unreasonable.

Please. Let's be constructive.

What will the committee say?

Most of them have seen the original. How?

At a court ball, from a balcony?

In church, by candlelight, flickering shadows?

Yes, you saw her. Many saw her from a distance.

Or in the newspapers. What about the servants? Some of them are here in exile.

They saw her through devoted tears, and they will again.

All right, and the family... The family? If it was the immediate family,

I would not try it... But they are dead.

And do you have faith in the memories of uncles, aunts, cousins?

I don't. You have faith in nothing.

They will closet themselves in their bedrooms and secretly peer at yellow photographs

which that woman will resemble. That?

Yes, that. Rouge will turn the mouth up a bit.

Some powder, a new coiffure.

Dresses to suggest the other period.

Walk, manner, voice taught along with faces, names, places.

It would be easier if we could present her to the committee

lying in her coffin.

Yes, no questions, no answers, no mistakes.

No money, either.

I know. Now I know!

Know what? It's a cellar. You brought me down here to shoot me!

Are you mad? It's a cellar!