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1、THE LAST STATIONBased on the Novel byJan PariniScreenplay byMichael HoffmanAll happy families are the same. Each unhappy family isunhappy in its own way.Leo Tolstoy- Anna Karenina1 EXT. COUNTRYSIDE. DAY. 1High angle of the steam train travelling through a wideriver valley. The stack belching smoke a
2、gainst the Russiansky.2 INT. SECOND CLASS CARRIAGE. COUNTRY SIDE. DAY. 2Leo Tolstoy (80), sits writing on his lapboard. He is quitesimply the greatest living writer in the world. Hisdevotion to pacifism, his rejection of the trappings ofOrthodoxy in favor of a simple Christian lifestyle convincemany
3、 to regard him as a living saint. With him are his muchyounger wife, the COUNTESS SOFYA, favorite daughter SASHA,and his personal physician DUSHAN MAKOVITSKY. Sasha andDushan write in their diaries. Sofya looks from one to thenext a little impatient. The train begins to slow.SOFYAWhy are we slowing
4、down?No one responds. Slower. Slower.SOFYAWere stopping. Why are westopping?SASHAI dont know, mother. No idea.Tolstoy look up from his work, asks a passing conductor.SOFYAExcuse me, why has the trainstopped?CONDUCTORIts the crowd, mam, the people.Theyre blocking the track.In the distance we can here
5、 voices.VOICES (O.S.)Long live Tolstoy! Long live theold warrior!SOFYABut if they block the track, thetrain cant go.YOU HAVE TO MAKETHEM MOVE.The conductor shrugs, walks away. She goes to the window toinvestigate. A crowd of a hundred peasants, studentssurround the engine, block the track. They carr
6、y a hugecloth banner honoring Tolstoy. We can hear voices chanting“Tolstoy. Tolstoy. Tolstoy”, voices crying “You are thetruth.” “You are the hope of the Russian people.”SOFYAOh, they wont move. We aregonna die here. Leo, Leo, go andsay something to them. Its theonly way we are gonna get out ofhere.
7、The chanting grows in intensity. Tolstoy gets to his feet,walks to the window, shows himself to the crowd. A greatshout goes up. Tolstoy lifts his hand for silence.Gradually, it comes.TOLSTOYI have seen your banner. And Iveheard what you say. You think Imthe hope of Russia, do you? Well,thats not tr
8、ue. You are the hopeof Russia. The hope of all theworld. You say, you want a newway to live? Well, you are notgonna find it making a fuss overme. So, I suggest that you get onwith your work and let a poor oldmen get on with his.The cries begin. “Clear the tracks. Let them pass. Let themgo.” Tolstoy
9、closes the door and waves to the crowd as thetrain pulls away.3 EXT. COUNTRYSIDE. DAY. 3On the chanting crowd now as the train pulls away. Wefocus on a handsome young man, a little stiff maybe, alittle intellectual. This is VALENTIN FEDOROVITCHBULGAKOV. He cant contain his enthusiasm. Over the noise
10、of the train.VALENTINDo you know who that is? That isthe greatest man in the world.The train pulls away into the distance.TITLE OVER BLACK: SPRING 19104 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. DAWN. 4The ancestral home of the Tolstoy family in the firstbudding of spring.2.Muzhiks (peasants) gather wood, carry water t
11、o the house. Acart arrives loaded down with mail bags.5 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SOFYAS BEDROOM. DAY. 5A handsome room, walls covered with generations of familyphotographs. Religious icons are given pride of place, atestament, not to piety, but to an ingrained socialconservatism, a certain position in
12、the world.Countess Sofya mumbles her morning prayers before a makeshift altar. Wiping away tears, she leaves the room.5A INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/STAIR. DAY. 5ASofya walks down the stairs and through the entry passed anold servant asleep in a chair. She continues to thebasement.6 INT. YASNAYA POL
13、YANA. TOLSTOYS BEDROOM/STUDY. DAY. 6Tolstoy has moved himself out of the refined upper floorsinto a simple vaulted room he uses as both bedroom andstudy. The walls are bare except for a portrait of hisdaughter. The furniture is simple, some of it hand made: asmall bed against the wall, a little writ
14、ing desk in onecorner stacked with books, littered with papers, more mail,opened and unopened. Pairs of rude homemade shoes line awork bench.Tolstoy sleeps in his bed. Though its late March andstill cold, the window is open. Sofya closes it. Shestands very still, watching Tolstoy sleep. Sitting on t
15、hebed, she gently touches his hand, whispers.SOFYADarling.She lies next to him, something girlish, hopeful in herface, as if waiting for him to wake up and adore her, buthe sleeps on. She carefully takes his arm, positions itunder her neck, and rolling toward him, wraps it aroundher. The image of loves intimacy, of wedded bliss.His hand slips off her shoulder, once, twice. She movesawkwardly to replace it. He moves a little toward her. Shekisses his neck, his cheek. We dont know if hes awake,but even this shadow of intim
