Практикум по синхронному переводу с русского языка на английский

was totally logical/ understandable/legitimate, if you look at the harsh
times/difficult period/when I left Russia. At that time my action was
called/described as/termed betrayal/the act of a traitor though I had no
plans to/did not intend to/emigrate/wasn't at all thinking of emigrating.
I left for three months to see my father for the first time, and I'd been
looking for him for 15 years. I didn't have the slightest desire to
stay/remain there: here I'd left behind my mother, my work which I
loved, I had a film planned with Svetlana Druzhinina... But it
happened/turned out that I met someone/a man, we fell in love, I
married him. He was an American, and it was totally unthinkable/
unrealistic/out of the question/impossible for him to come to the USSR
then/and at that time coming to the USSR for him was totally unreal.
And so I made up my mind/And then I took a decision. For a long
time I kept Soviet citizenship, and only after my mother's murder I said
that I didn't want to be a citizen of this bloodstained country, and sent
back/ returned my passport to the embassy. Now I have American
citizenship. But I'm still Russian at heart/I'm still Russian.

65535. 
       What did you do all these years ?
       

65535. 
       \ was a housewife. Raised my son. Worked as a model. Acted
       for TV and for documentary films. I wrote two books: an
       autobiography and a novel about ancient Russian history, which I did
       with Robin Moore, an American writer...and now we can't manage
       to sell it to a publisher, because historical novels aren't fashionable.
       

65535. 
       For many years you've been trying to make/shoot a feature film
       about your mother and her fate. What could prompt/make/bring
       someone to relive the most tragic moments of her life?
       

65535. 
       No one says that's easy. I still can't talk about some scenes
       without crying/tears. But my mother at least deserved to have the
       truth about her told/to have her true story told. I'm fed up with/I
       can't put up with/I've had it with all those cheap investigations by
       journalists, the books in which the events/circumstances of my
       mother's life and death are turned inside out/all wrong/upside down,
       adorned/blown up with flights of fantasy/wild fabrications/ideas/ total
       distortions, stories about some invented diamonds... What's behind
       these authors'/writers' reasons/motives/ actions/What moves these
       authors/what makes these authors do this/is clear: to make money.
       Well, too bad for them/forget about them/tough luck. I'm not going
       to run after each of them wailing "what have you invented/ dreamed
       up, damn you!" In America there's even more of that stuff, and that
       gets hung out in public/thrown about publicly/they trade those kind
       of accusations/sling that kind of stuff back and forth/every day. It's a
       kind of a weird life style. For me the most important thing is to show
       this story the way it really was. And that was the story of a
       beautiful/marvelous love with a tragic twist.
       

65535. 
       But you've come to Moscow with a completely different film project...
       

65535. 
       You mean/you're talking about my film? Well, that's another
       story/that's completely different/that's something else altogether. It's
       modern, a Hitchcock style detective film. About how a husband tries
       to drive his wife crazy/nuts/mad, to get her out of his life. It takes
       place in America, where I live, and the heroine is a Russian who's
       married an American. When I came to Moscow in the early 90s I was
       offered several roles right away, but I refused: I didn't want to appear
       before/be seen by/an audience, which hadn't seen me for such a long
       time, in really/frankly bad films. And so I decided to do/shoot/a film
       myself. Since I'm not a screenwriter, and my Russian/has gotten a
       bit/slightly shaky/isn't what it used to be over/after all these years, I
       asked for help from Edik Volodarsky and Andrei Razumovsky, to
       finish off/polish my scribbles.
       

65535.