After being sacked for conducting Jewish musicians in defiance of the Communist regime, Andrei Filipov winds up, 30 years later, working as a lowly cleaner for the Bolshoi Orchestra.
A ridiculous plot sees him and his chums wrangling a slot at Paris's Châtelet Theatre, giving Filipov the chance to dredge up some demons in the form of a Tchaikovsky concerto and an attractive solo violinist. The cast overact throughout, while the characterisation relies on cheap national stereotypes, and while it's hard to know how bad the dialogue is, the subtitles are certainly dire. Despite this, the final concert is delivered with more finesse than you'd expect – and does duly tug on the heart strings.
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