The Twelve Chairs (1970)
Ostap Bender: [after yet another failure] Remember the famous Russian proverb: "The hungrier you get, the tastier the meal." On the other hand, the French have a proverb: merde!
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: Why are you after my chair?
Father Fyodor: It's not yours.
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: Then whose is it?
Father Fyodor: It's nationalized property. It belongs to the workers
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: Did you said the workers?
Father Fyodor: Yes, the workers.
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: Maybe the holy father is a member of the communist party.
Father Fyodor: Maybe.
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: But the party is for atheists. How can a priest join the party?
Father Fyodor: The church must keep up with the times.
[Ostap Bender is kissing a young woman]
Young Woman: Do you love me?
Ostap Bender: Let's just say that I am very much in lust with you.
Tikon: [remembering his former master Vorobyaninov] I loved him... he hardly ever beat us!
Ostap Bender: Listen, tell me. Tell me. Who lived here in the old days?
Tikon: Oh, in the old days was my master: Ippolit Matveyevich Vorobyaninov. He was a Marshal of the nobility. I loved him. He hardly ever beat us.
Ostap Bender: Oh, and whatever became of your "lovable master"?
Tikon: One night about ten years ago was a fearful noise. It was bombs and cannons and soldiers shooting. It was terrible, terrible!
Ostap Bender: Oh, yes, I think it was called "The Revolution".
Tikon: That was it: The Revolution... You're smart! You're smart and you're gorgeous. You're okay. Anyways... they all run away.
Ostap Bender: Well, come on, old boy. Let us see how drunk two Russians can get on one ruble.
Tikon: I like that: two Russians, one ruble!
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: I am cousin Kiev, from Vorobyaninov. All of the Michaels are dead.
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: Why are you after my chair?
Father Fyodor: It's not yours!
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: Then who's is it?
Father Fyodor: It's nationalized property! It belongs to the workers?
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: Did you say "the workers"?
Father Fyodor: Yes, the workers!
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: Maybe the Holy Father is a member of the Communist Party?
Father Fyodor: Maybe...
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: But the Party is for atheists. How can a priest join the PARTY?
[Kicks the priest in the shin]
Father Fyodor: [Grimacing from the kick] Mm... The Church must keep up with the times...
Ostap Bender: Epilepsy, my friends, epilepsy. The same deseace that strucked down our own beloved Dostoyevski. Give, give. From the bottom of your hearts.
Tikon: [to Ostap Bender] You're smart and you're gorgeous!
Father Fyodor: A memento of your lovely home!
[to the family in Syberia, as he attempts to steal a chair, and they attempt to throw him out]
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: [referring to Father Fyodor's being in drag and trying to steal one of the chairs] This is disgusting!
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: [screaming at his dying mother-in-law for hiding her jewels in a chair] Heaven knows who may sit in that chair... *if* it's still a chair!
Father Fyodor: What detail. What fine workmanship. What a gorgeous chairrrrr!
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: [They've torn one of chairs to pieces when Vorobyaninov realizes] How did you find out about the jewels?
Father Fyodor: [pause, then] People talk.
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: Why, you disgusting creature! You used the sacred sacrement of confession to further your own ends!
Father Fyodor: Not really.
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: Well, you are just about the most contemptible creature it has even been my misfortune to meet! You're not worth spitting on!
Father Fyodor: Well, you are!
[He spits on Vorobyaninov]
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: [upon learning that his mother-in-law is dying] Bozhe moi, that poor woman! That poor woman! Who is going to care of me?
Ostap Bender: [He punches Vorobyaninov in the stomach after Vorobyaniniv has slapped him] Parasite! Parasite, parasite! Disgusting, helpless, inept, bloodsucking parasite! Vorobyaninovs never beg? I begged all my life!
Father Fyodor: [Bender is masquerading as a government official as Father Fyodor walks into the office to get information about the chairs] I am Vorobyaninov's son.
[Ostap stares at him]
Father Fyodor: His first-born. He was like a father to me.
Ostap Bender: So... you are Vorobyaninov's son.
Father Fyodor: Yes, I am.
Ostap Bender: [quickly] How old are you?
Father Fyodor: 46... 44.
Ostap Bender: Which is it?
Father Fyodor: 42... 42.
Ostap Bender: According to our records, Vorobyaninov is 53. That means that when you were born, your father was... 11.
[Father Fyodor gives an impressed whistle]
Father Fyodor: [to Madam Bruns] My dear lady... don't you understand?
[he goes totally manic]
Father Fyodor: I need those chairs!
Ostap Bender: [Father Fyodor has just handed supposed government official Ostap a pocket watch] Are you trying to bribe a Soviet official?
Father Fyodor: Oh, no, no, no, no, no... I was hoping for the best.
Madam Bruns: [Father Fyodor is embracing Engineer Bruns' leg] Andre, why is that man kissing your knee?
Father Fyodor: I want to grovel at your feet! I must grovel at your feet!
Madam Bruns: No groveling! There will be no groveling in this house! This is a Soviet household! We don't allow groveling!
Father Fyodor: [desperately trying to think of a motive to get the chairs from the Bruns] C'mon, brain!
Ippolit Vorobyaninov: [Father Fyodor is on the top of a mountain, ripping a chair apart] It's very quiet... what do you supposed he's doing? Do you think he found the jewels?
Ostap Bender: In a moment, the jury will bring in a verdict.
Father Fyodor: Oh Lord, you're so strict!
Father Fyodor: Oh Lord... oh Lord, if this is your pun... ish... ment...
[he realizes that he's trapped on top of a mountain with no way down]
Father Fyodor: How did I get here? There's no way down... there's absolutely no way down! I'm gonna need a great deal of help to get down!
[he sees Ostap and Vorobyaninov leaving]
Father Fyodor: Boys! Oh, boys! Yoo-hoo, Vorobyaninov! I have always liked you, you know that? We come from the same village. For twenty-five years, I have been your priest... oh, for Christ's sake, get me down!
[they walk away]
Father Fyodor: Get... me... down!
Tikon: It's an old-age home for wery old ladies. They tippy-toe in, they have a little bowl of porridge and...
[he blows a raspberry]
Tikon: that's it.