The other, a broad-shouldered young man with tousled reddish hair, his checkered cap cocked back on his head, was wearing a cowboy shirt, wrinkled white trousers and black sneakers. His neatly shaven face was adorned with black horn-rimmed glasses of a supernatural size. One of them, approximately forty years old, dressed in a grey summer suit, was short, dark-haired, plump, bald, and carried his respectable fedora hat in his hand. There’s a lot going on here, and often my head was spinning like:Īt the hour of the hot spring sunset two citizens appeared at the Patriarch’s Ponds. ![]() Margarita is the master’s lover who agrees to serve as the hostess of Satan’s upcoming rave so long as he frees the master. The master is a writer working on a novel about Pontius Pilate (the scenes involving him are excerpts from the manuscript), and he winds up locked in an asylum. Connecting these threads is the plight of the master and Margarita. Interspersed with the demonic hijinks is a story about Pontius Pilate, the trial and execution of Jesus Christ and its aftermath. They confound the state bureaucracy by causing an office staff to break out in uncontrollable song, and they turn one bureaucrat invisible: a literal empty suit. They distract the police by staging a black-magic séance that ends with people running wild, some of them nearly naked, in the streets. They clear out an apartment suitable for the festivities by sending one resident under a tram and teleporting another to Yalta. ![]() To arrange this, he and his henchmen-Azazello, an enforcer with one fang, Koroviev, a fast-talker with a cracked pince-nez, and Behemoth, a cat that can walk and talk like a person-go on a bizarre spree of murder and mayhem. Satan has come to Moscow to throw his annual gala for doomed souls.
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