The opening words of the next entry are written.
Poprishchin V.O.
October Fourth. Today is Wednesday!
Cut To:
Standing in the doorway of the Director's study, POPRISHCHIN is beaming.
Poprishchin V.O.
(cont'd)
And that is why I was in our Director's study at his home.
The CAMERA PANS with Poprishchin, carrying a small leather doctor's bag, as he crosses to a writing desk against the front wall of the study.
Poprishchin V.O.
(cont'd)
I made sure I got there early so I could sharpen all his quills.
Poprishchin puts down his bag and turns around to look at the Director's desk.
Cut to: WIDE SHOT of the study from OVER THE SHOULDER of Poprishchin. It is a magnificent room colored in deep reds and dark wood. The walls are lined with bookcases and mementos from around the world. The Director's huge mahogany desk is neatly organized with papers, ink, quills, and an oil lamp. Hanging behind the desk, casting a gaze thick with aristocratic position and bureaucratic power, is a grand portrait of the Director. This is the world for which Poprishchin longs. It is here in this study that he feels noble.
Cut to: The portrait of the Director.
Poprishchin V.O.
(cont'd)
Our Director must be a very brilliant man. Why his study is covered with bookcases of books.
Cut to: Poprishchin runs his hands along the books on the bookshelf.
Despite his noble self-image, Poprishchin moves awkwardly in these surroundings on the verge of being a bull in a china store.
Poprishchin V.O.
(cont'd)
I looked at some of the titles, such learning, cuts an ordinary person off completely; they're all in French and German.
Poprishchin looks up at the Director's portrait.
Poprishchin V.O.
(cont'd)
Just look into his face and one can see the brilliance that just shines in his brow.
Cut to: The Director's portrait has changed. He now appears with a stern expression, his head turned to face Poprishchin.
Poprishchin V.O.
(cont'd)
I've never heard him utter an unnecessary word, except, perhaps, when one hands him documents, he may ask...
(imitating the Director as he looks at his portrait)
How is it outside?
Cut to: Poprishchin steps nervously towards the Director's portrait.
Poprishchin
(Speaking back to the portrait.)
Damp, your Excellency.
Cut to: The Director's portrait now has a slight grin.
Poprishchin V.O.
Yes, our kind is no match for the likes of him. He is a true Bureaucrat.
Cut to: Poprishchin is pleased with his good standing.
Poprishchin V.O.
(cont'd)
Nevertheless, I've noticed that he has taken a special liking to me. Now, if only his daughter would...
Poprishchin
yes, if only his daughter would.
Poprishchin V.O.
Never mind...
Poprishchin
Devilry...
Poprishchin's expression changes to one of discomfort.
Poprishchin V.O.
Nev-ver-mind... Nev-ver-mind...STOP IT.
Poprishchin looks SCREEN RIGHT towards his desk and his awaiting duties.
The CAMERA PANS with Poprishchin as he crosses to his desk.
Cut to: Poprishchin, sitting at his desk, lifts his leather bag from the floor and places it on the desk.
Poprishchin opens his leather case and removes several knives for sharpening quills. He carefully arranges the tools on the desk like a surgeon preparing for an operation.
Poprishchin removes his eyeglasses from the bag. He puts on his glasses and looks SCREEN RIGHT across the room towards the clock.
The CAMERA TILTS UP, ZOOMS and RACK FOCUSES on Grandfather clock across the room. It is 10:30.
Quill Sharpening Montage:
Poprishchin sharpens the Director's quills.
It is the one job that he actually enjoys and does well.
He does this work with great care and precision,
sharpening and resharpening the quills,
until they are all sharpened to perfection.
Cut to: Poprishchin looks with pride at his work.
Poprishchin takes off glasses and puts his tools back into his leather bag.
Poprishchin looks towards the clock.
The CAMERA TILTS UP, ZOOMS, and RACK FOCUSES on Grandfather clock across the room. It is 12:30.
The CAMERA PANS to the door across the room. There is no one there.
The CAMERA PANS and ZOOMS BACK to Poprishchin as he unfolds and reads his copy of the "Northern Bee".
Poprishchin
Aren't the French a stupid race. Whatever are they driving at? They should all be caned.
Poprishchin turns the page of the "Northern Bee".
Cut to: CLOSE-UP of an article about a girl with two noses.
The CAMERA TILTS DOWN to an article describing a ball by a landowner in Kursk.
Poprishchin
I had no idea that Kursk landowners could write so well.
SOUND: The door across the room opens.
Cut to: Poprishchin quickly puts away the "Northern Bee".
Cut to: Light pours through the crack of the opening door.
The CAMERA TRACKS IN to a CLOSE-UP of SOPHIE standing in the doorway. Her face once again obscured by the light that pours from behind her. Dressed in white, she is radiant like an angel, like the sun itself.
Sophie
Has Papa been in here?
Cut to: Poprishchin, illuminated by the light of the angel, clumsily rises from his chair and steps towards Sophie.
Poprishchin
Miss, don't have me put to death, but if I must be put to death, then, please, have me put to death by your own aristocratic little hand.
Poprishchin bows his head.
Cut to: The Director's desk.
Sophie enters the frame in PROFILE. She is standing at the corner of the Director's desk with the Director's portrait in the background.
Sophie is a very pretty eighteen year old woman with fair skin, dark hair, and full lips.
Sophie
Was Papa here?
The CAMERA TRACKS around to an OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT of Sophie.
Poprishchin is sitting at his desk putting away the "Northern Bee".
Sophie's voice snaps Poprishchin from his imagined plea for mercy.
Poprishchin rises from his chair.
Poprishchin
No.
Sophie looks towards the main doors to the study.
Sophie coyly drops her handkerchief.
Poprishchin makes a dash for the handkerchief, barely maintaining his balance as he slips on the parquet floor.
Poprishchin picks up the handkerchief, which glows in his hand as if it were the ark of the covenant.
Poprishchin V.O.
Heavens, what a hanky! The linen, the thinnest.
Poprishchin drops to his knees and offers Sophie her handkerchief, stealing a sniff as he passes it in front of his nose.
Poprishchin V.O.
(cont'd)
The fragrance, it unstuck my nose. It so smelled of a Directorship.
Sophie
Thank-you.
Taking back her handkerchief, Sophie smiles so faintly that her sugary little lips hardly even move.
Sophie leaves the study through the main doors.
Poprishchin remains kneeling on the floor.
SOUND: The clock strikes 3:00.
Poprishchin looks towards the Grandfather clock.
The CAMERA PANS, ZOOMS, and RACK FOCUSES on the Grandfather clock. It reads 3:00.
SOUND: The study door opening.
The CAMERA PANS BACK to Poprishchin quickly standing up as the HEAD BUTLER enters the study.
Head Butler
You may go home Aksenty Ivanovich. The Master has left the building.
Poprishchin looks at the Head Butler with disdain as he crosses to his desk, gets his bag and exits the study.
Cut To:
POPRISHCHIN enters the back service room located at the rear entrance to the house.
TWO HOUSE SERVANTS sit around a table reading and talking about articles in the newspaper. They acknowledge Poprishchin, but make no effort to help him.
The CAMERA TRACKS along the side wall as POPRISHCHIN crosses the room, and reaches for his overcoat.
Cut to Poprishchin's POV: SERVANT #1 offers POPRISHCHIN snuff.
Servant #1
Snuff?
Cut to Servant's POV: Poprishchin puts on his overcoat and scolds Servant #1.
Poprishchin
How dare you offer me snuff, you stupid toady! Don't you know, that I am a civil servant, and I am of noble rank!?!
Cut to: Servant #1 offers POPRISHCHIN snuff again.
Servant #1
Would you like some Snuff?
The CAMERA TRACKS around to an OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT of Servant #1. The servant's voice snaps Poprishchin from yet another flight of fancy as he reaches for his overcoat.
Poprishchin
No.
Poprishchin puts on his overcoat.
Servant #1 turns back to Servant #2. They continue to read and discuss the newspaper.
The CAMERA TRACKS LEFT as Poprishchin puts on his hat and exits out the back entrance of the Director's house hurt and irritated.
Poprishchin exits SCREEN LEFT, passing by one of the rear windows.
Cut To:
POPRISHCHIN turns the corner to the side of the house where GREGOR, another of the Director's servants, is happily talking to himself while sweeping the sidewalk.
Poprishchin walks past Gregor making a face indicating that he thinks Gregor is a fool.
Poprishchin walks around the front corner of the fence and exits SCREEN RIGHT.
Cut To:
Poprishchin walks outside the fence in front of the house. A horse drawn carriage stands at the front door. Walking along the sidewalk towards Poprishchin are SUITOR #1 and his dog TREASURE, a beautiful Russian Borzoi.
Poprishchin stops and looks towards the house.
Cut to: TEPLOV, a tall, handsome, and well groomed Guard's Officer dressed in his official uniform, knocks on the front door.
The door opens, and Teplov is granted entrance to the house by the HEAD BUTLER.
Teplov's carriage pulls away from the house towards Poprishchin.
Cut to: As Poprishchin enters the front courtyard, he steps clear of Teplov's carriage as it leaves through the gates.
The CAMERA TRACKS BACK with Poprishchin as he walks with purpose towards the front door.
Poprishchin climbs the front steps and raises his hand to knock on the door.
At the moment he reaches the door, Poprishchin does a quick about face and nods at the door as if to say "Good Day".
Poprishchin proceeds back down the front walk with an aristocratic air.
Poprishchin turns out the gate and exits SCREEN LEFT.
Cut To:
POPRISHCHIN lies in his bed, reading the "Northern Bee" by the light of a candle that sits by his side on his chair.
Poprishchin gets up from bed and crosses towards his desk.
Cut to: Poprishchin sits at his desk and copies a poem from the "Northern Bee".
Poprishchin
Not having seen you for one hour / I thought it was for one whole year / My life is now peccable'n'sour / How am I to live? I fear. / Sounds like Pushkin.
Poprishchin signs "Pushkin" below the poem.
During the course of the following voice over, Poprishchin gets up from his desk, puts on his overcoat, and stuffs the poem into his pocket.
Poprishchin V.O.
In the evening I wrapped myself up in my best overcoat and walked on over to our Director's house and waited by the front gate, for quite a while, to see whether she would come out, perhaps get into her carriage...
Cut To:
POPRISHCHIN stands motionless, staring through the fence at the Director's house.
Cut To:
The final words of the entry are written.
Poprishchin V.O.
Oh, she didn't.
Fade to Black.