Original subtitles

I want to tell you a part of my life

because it has to do with you.

Because...

I don't know if further on I'll feel like telling you about it.

I am a survivor. And this is my story.

LAST IMAGES OF THE SHIPWRECK

How many of us would be the chosen ones?

Or would the chosen ones already have been taken aside?

The ones over there were the doomed to grey days,

to insignificant deaths,

to neighborhood wakes with old and boring relatives

who have taken our death for granted for some time now.

Where had we gone wrong? Where had the failure been?

How many on that wagon

would still believe in salvation?

A lottery ticket. A big heist.

A brilliant invention.

Anything, my God, but that meekness

with which we let ourselves be taken to the slaughterhouse.

I clamored for the apparition just one word,

which could be the beginning of that great novel

that would rescue me from a death so safe, so correct.

Why were you going to do it?

Who told you I was going to do it?

You were getting too close to the tracks.

Would you like to go for coffee?

Roberto.

Estela.

Instead of coffee, could we go for a bite to eat?

Even if it's just a pizza place.

You know what?

I realized you were getting closer,

and for a moment I feared you'd push me over.

You thought I might kill you?

And yet you didn't react.

I gambled on you not doing it.

- Are you going to eat that? - No, I'm sorry. Do you want it?

No, could we ask for it to be wrapped up to go?

I've got kittens.

Yes, of course. We'll ask the waiter.

Estela. Have you got problems?

No. Life, like everyone else.

- Do you work? - When I can.

And right now are you out of work?

Not at this time...

I got you.

You paid for my meal,

but don't be mad, I deliver. When you're ready we leave.

- Where to? - The hotel.

If you have a car and want to do it there, it's fine by me.

So the thing on the platform was an act you put on.

- You weren't thinking of jumping. - No.

I do that when there are many of men at the station.

There's always one who saves my life.

And what if none of them did?

It's a gamble.

But if it goes wrong I think I'm capable of stopping in time.

You think?

It's a novel way of offering something very old.

- Are you always this frank? - No.

I usually don't waste time talking about this.

Especially because some would just kill me.

But with you... I don't know.

I had the need to tell you.

I suspect you'll just get the check and leave.

I don't think you want to go to bed with me.

What do you do? You look like a good guy.

I'm an insurance salesman. It's unbelievable.

- Waiter, more wine. It's great! - What's wrong with you? You're nuts.

I pull your leg and you think it's great.

Estela, it doesn't matter. It's fate, it doesn't matter.

You got yourself a client.

Pretend you got the best client ever in the world.

- Are you a sex maniac? - No. I'm a writer.

- Didn't you say you sold insurance? - Yes, but, I'm really a writer.

I write. Look, I'm interested.

Not exactly in your body.

I can pay you, in exchange for a very simple thing.

- To do it with another guy? - No, it's not about that.

I want you to tell me about yourself. Your family.

I want you to tell me your life.

I need material for a novel

I'm writing. And you could be helpful.

- And will I be in it? - I don't know.

For now, what I need is for you to tell me about your stuff.

I knew that sooner or later I would run into a nut.

I'd thought about sex maniacs,

sadists, rapists,

but I'd never thought of this.

A writer.

- I'm leaving you for the day. - When will I see you?

I don't know. One of these days.

- Can I call you somewhere? - No.

Here.

These are my office numbers.

Please, call me.

Where do you live?

In a boarding-house nearby.

- Can I walk with you? - You'd better not.

Don't fail to call me.

I need to start working on the novel.

I'm sorry, but...

how much is it for today?

Today?

Nothing. You paid for my dinner.

And you saved my life.

Will you do it again?

Not today.

I knew from that first moment that Estela had a key.

I didn't know then what door it would open for me.

Where that door would lead...

But at least, from that day on, there was a door in my life.

REPORT ON ESTELA

To repress your emotions, my poor Margarita,

even though the time hasn't come.

What we need now, for everyone to be saved,

is presence of mind,

presence...

To repress your emotions, my poor Margarita,

even though the time hasn't come.

What we need now, for everyone to be saved,

is presence of mind.

Who are you?

You suspect I lied to you, right?

All right. I lied to you.

But for now I lied to you only about one thing.

I don't live in a boarding-house like I said.

I live far away, with my family.

Dad, Mom, siblings?

Mom, siblings.

Your father, is he dead?

We're a family that never stopped moving on.

But backwards.

In that sense we're a role model...

that gets worse all the time.

We used to live in a neighborhood.

Dad had a workshop tiny factory.

He made plastic things.

Bad times came around and we started to get kicked out.

First from the house...

Dad bought a pre-fabricated one and put it on a little patch of land

he had been paying for for 10 years.

We went to live there.

One day we couldn't afford the pre-fab house, either,

because on top of it all we'd been had,

and the little house cost double what they'd told us.

In the middle of it all, one day Dad left,

to try his fortune somewhere else, he said.

We never knew where.

When things got better, he would come back for us.

There were days when all there was at home was bread and oil.

But those days when he showed up, those were a party.

The nut would say he'd done some sort of deal,

so he'd show up with a turkey and champagne.

I'm serious, days of hunger,

we'd placate with turkey and champagne, how about that?

Then he'd leave again and disappear for some time.

It's been almost a year now since we last saw him.

You had a comedy in mind...

Can I walk you home?

Home?

Roberto.

Are you sure you want to make this journey?

- What's the matter? - I'll tell you later.

They were uncles of mine.

- Are they estranged? - No. They're dead.

They died a year ago.

They always get on at that stop, it's the cemetery.

They're not the only ones.

It doesn't matter. Don't believe it.

Don't put that in the novel.

But the bus fills up with dead people at that stop.

- And where do they go? - Nowhere, I think.

They just ride the bus.

It's their way of remembering life, I guess...

But if they see me they get burdensome.

They start asking about Mom about the guys, my brothers.

If we remember them. About the candy they used to bring us

each time they came to visit 20 years ago...

Until that moment, I had not thought about

the possibility of Estela being crazy.

To discover it that night, in the darkness of an unknown suburb

made me feel fear I had never felt until then.

I tried to remember every step taken to get there.

I thought of the rescuing possibility of a dream.

I calmed down.

I didn't know of anyone who'd been murdered in a dream.

All right. You can leave me here. That's my house.

Thanks for walking with me.

When will I see you again, Estela?

I want to... know more about your family.

But I'll bring the food.

I'll do the cooking. Let it be on me.

But of course, pay me for tonight.

Yes, of course. I'm sorry.

I knew that making that journey would change my life.

But at this point, not making it would also change it.

Why assume Estela was crazy?

Just for saying that the bus filled up with dead people?

Maybe she took it too seriously, her job

of giving me material for the novel.

I promised myself I would think no more of Estella's possible madness.

Or of mine, either.

When will it be ready to fly?

Any day now.

Go ahead. I'll be right down.

He's been at this for years. Seems he's going to finish it,

he finds something wrong and he starts over again.

They are words I won't say ever again.

Today's this is the one.

That word does not exist for me anymore.

Why do you do it?

I don't know. I make

free room in my head to fill up with new stuff.

If you keep on crossing out words, you'll end up mute one day.

That day I won't need to speak.

Jose must be arriving any minute. He knew you were coming.

This one is in case Dad comes.

We always set up a place.

Estelita told me you're a writer.

I write.

What do you do for a living?

I sell insurance.

Estela said...

you were interested in us to write a novel.

Well, for a time I've been trying to write

something about the life of a family...

and because of some stuff Estela told me, I wanted to meet you.

Get this straight. It's not that I want to write your lives down.

It's just to gather some material,

experiences that may be useful for me to create fictitious characters.

And what could there possibly be here that's of interest to a writer?

Someone who builds a plane on his terrace,

for example, is interesting.

Well, it can turn out to be an interesting character.

But, please, don't... don't take me for a detective.

I'm here it's... more than anything because...

because I made friends with Estela.

How did you two meet?

On the subway.

It's Jose.

Jose, this is Roberto.

Come, it's still hot.

I've already eaten.

What do you want from Estela?

Nothing. We're friends.

Hasn't she told you why I'm here?

To write a novel.

Why else?

I don't know. But there's something I don't like.

You've come to spy on us.

I'd rather you told me you've got the hots for Estela.

But that would be lying to you.

Look, there's just one thing to take into account here:

my family is not precisely a role model

but none of us

would let someone come here hurt us.

Please, never forget that.

I could have disappeared after that night.

I could have imagined the rest of those lives.

I was starting to know that it wouldn't be easy

to get those poor ghosts out of me

now that they had crossed my path.

I still believed that to do that it would be enough to write them.

To lock them up in a novel.

Estela...

can I sleep in your bed?

Maybe I was facing a test of my poor imagination.

But, a few days later

I started to feel the need to see Estela again.

And to go back to that house.

I didn't want to imagine those lives. I needed to observe them.

But how to overcome that first encounter,

an unfortunate one, with the family?

What to do for them not to reject me?

Some ham with potato salad, and then, a steak

with Spanish tortilla,

and a lettuce and tomato salad.

What about you?

No, no. Nothing right now.

Yes. White, half a liter.

We also need to...

who you are.

Need to...?

Oh... It's one of the words you won't use anymore.

We need to... know.

Does anyone in your family know that you've come to see me?

No. Some days ago Estela could have... something.

Could have... something.

Could have...

suspected.

Cause I asked her which subway station you two had met and...

- Did she tell you how we met? - No, no.

If Estela had come and said "This is my boyfriend",

things would be different.

But...

Excuse me, are you pressuring me to be Estella's boyfriend?

What do you want? To place the girl?

I don't want to live with you, I just want to write you down.

Forgive me if I was a little rude, but...

Claudio, why did you really come to see me?

I thought: you're a writer.

Maybe you could conceive another life for us...

An outsider, a smart one, perhaps

can... what's going on

and tell us what we can do.

What do you want, Claudio?

To help you write that novel.

- And I want to pay you. - Pay me? What for?

- For you to write episodes for us. - What?

You can show us the...

You can lead us to the end of that novel you want to write.

Hold on, Claudio, hold on.

I still don't really know what that novel will be like.

Besides, I think this is important for you,

reality is one thing and fiction is another.

Our family was thrown from paradise one day.

And we were... with nothing to do.

I can barely handle my own life, Claudio.

What do you think my life is like? Easy?

Life is always difficult.

And each person has to figure out how to lead it.

And what about the ones who don't... how to lead it?

Their lives are their own.

You are asking me to write up our next few days.

I think not even God would take that job right now.

- I was going to pay you. - Claudio.

Claudio,

Can we...

the food?

Can we... the food? Share...?

What kind of studies do you have?

I got to freshman year in philosophy.

Then came the attack of the Apocalypse brigade.

What was that, '76, '77?

I had to drop out in '77.

Did you get into trouble?

The only survival technique

I have always known is cowardice.

So I had no serious trouble.

I was taken into jail once.

They cut my hair. Told me I was a little faggot.

But since I accepted everything without...

at least they didn't... as subversive.

Mom... always right.

You didn't have to think strange thoughts.

You didn't have to think.

You had to be quiet, well-mannered,

- hair cut short, slicked down... - Like now?

Now I like it.

Tell me, Claudio. Besides crossing out words

- what do you do during the day? - I grow squash.

It was clear that each one would have to assume a role.

In that story there was a boyfriend for Estela.

And that was me.

Excuse me, do you have the time?

Five to eight.

- Thank you. - You're welcome.

I am still interested in the novel, of course,

but...

in the meantime...

I would like us to see each other.

Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?

Forgive me. It's just that sometimes I have the feeling

that you're absolutely crazy.

Are you telling me you came all the way over here to ask for my hand?

Me?

Do you forget who I am?

It just seemed your family would like

this to be more formal.

What do you want? To keep coming over?

You don't need to marry me.

Anyhow, thank you for the flowers.

Isn't it that you don't want to pay me anymore?

Don't get upset. I don�t want you to pay me anymore.

Really. It seems unfair to me.

- What will you live on? - We'll see...

Do you have to go back soon?

I thought I'd invite you to a club. Jose told me that if you came along

he'd buy us a drink. It's over here, at the station.

Are you sure he's not a cop?

Do you take any dough from him?

I don't take it from him. He offers it to me.

Come, Don Roberto,

you seem more lost than Tarzan in the subway.

Hey Bug! More whiskey over here.

Congratulations.

I see you're dating.

Jose, if you're going to be a pain, we're leaving.

Shall we dance? Yes.

Tell me, you know, don't you? You've got to know.

- What about? - That you're crazy.

I've got some clue.

But, why do you ask me?

I don't know. To come all the way out here...

To cross the border.

To get involved with a broad like my sister...

But worse still, all this to write a novel.

Jose, if you know why I'm here, don't make me waste the night.

Tell me something about yourself.

About myself? You know plenty about me.

What do you do? What do you work in?

Surviving. Everything that doesn't mean bowing down,

saying "Yes, sir", jobs, orders.

No subordination whatsoever. Some courage.

Leave literature to me.

Specifically, what do you work in? What do you do for a living?

Relax. Pretend I'm part of the family.

I do business. I'll explain some other day.

Do you want to improve the outlook some?

- No. - I do.

Your loss.

- Scared? - Why?

All of this, my brother.

I'm getting to know things about you all. That's what I came for.

Do you work all the time?

Why don't you relax a little and just live?

- Nothing will happen to you. - Why, no, I'm relaxed.

- You won't dance, right? - I never dance.

Do you want to go to bed with me or not yet?

Estela, at my age

going to bed is not the most important thing.

I'm not thinking about that all the time like

like some teenager.

It's better for it happen if it has to happen.

Do you want to do it?

I don't know.

If you ask me for real,

it's very difficult to know what one wants to do with you.

Whether to kiss you to kill you, to insult you.

To hold you.

But, do you know what I do want to do,

because this seems ridiculous and I don't know how it got to this point?

Not to be so formal anymore.

Let's do away with the formality, you old fucker, ok?

If I wore a tie, it's as if I had taken it off.

I've been meaning to do this for a while.

I'm catching up now:

Look at me, talk to me, tell me,

leave, stay, hit me,

listen to me, touch me, fuck me...

I'm sorry.

What do you want from us, Roberto?

Seriously, what do you want?

I don't understand you.

Poor castaways, grabbing on to anything that floats.

And do you know what floats the most around here? Shit does.

But let's assume that you...

that you're a castaway yourself.

You could grab on to any other thing, couldn't you?

I'm not saying an engine boat, but those traveling in your class,

always manage to clutch at some life preserver, don't they?

Close your eyes.

I'm going to put something in your hand. Maybe you'll like it.

Jose.

Come on. Don't be a pussy.

I have to trust you, don't I?

All right.

Stretch your hand out for me.

So? How does it feel? Have you ever held one?

No.

You see, how can you be a writer

if you've never held a gun in your hand?

Why do you use guns?

Because I'm a great believer. Really.

When I pull one of these out, for a few minutes

I'm the greatest believer in the world.

For a while now, Jose, you've been trying to prove to me

that you're a terrible guy. The worst kind.

Able to be involved in the worst that's going on in this world.

What are you after? Do you want me to judge you? To scold you?

I'm not here for that.

I'd like to be friends with you all. Just the way you are.

Neither to judge you, nor to state my opinion on your lives.

Nor to change you.

Can't you see me simply as a friend?

Ask Estela for my number, just call me

and we'll go out for coffee. Bye.

This guy is way crazy.

Look where the river we lost in Buenos Aires used to be.

Just like that, the motherfucker

screws us at least once a year.

It hurls itself onto us and rots everything in its way.

- Does the water reach your house? - Yes.

- And what do you do? - We stay.

Praying for the water not to get to the roof.

- Don't you leave? - No.

When the firemen's boats come by, we hide

so that they think we're gone.

If we left, we would find nothing there when we came back.

Let's head back.

It's very late.

It had been a busy day.

I remembered that there was a woman in my bed that eventually

I'd have to give an explanation to.

Anyway, at that moment my life had one sole objective:

to find a place where I could grab a slice of pizza.

- You didn't go to work. - No.

- Are you going out? - Why do you ask?

Call the office and tell them I'm sick.

You're begging to get fired, Roberto.

What's the matter? We have to talk.

Not now.

Close the door for me.

- How are you? - Sleepy.

I was working on the plane last night.

I was working on the engine. Adjusting some pieces.

I was expecting you.

So, tell me, what's going on with you?

I might love a man.

And what's wrong with that?

It could get me hurt.

How so?

If he didn't love me.

We've survived because we're tough.

If any of us goes soft, we're screwed.

What a pity.

So she didn't say what time she'd be back?

No. She was going to meet a friend downtown.

All right. Tell her to call me.

- Are you going to the station? - Yes.

Me too. Ready?

Bye, Claudio.

You got away with it.

He's gone.

The plane has two seats. Are you planning to take someone with you?

Carla, my girlfriend. I'll introduce you to her now.

Why didn't you get married? Why didn't you move somewhere else?

That's what I don't get about you, Mario.

My dough's not much. But it's the only steady income in the house.

Claudio, poor thing, is getting worse every day.

Jose, when we least expect it, will turn up in a ditch.

And Estelita does what she can.

And I'm sorry, but I get very scared.

When Estelita says she's going out to work, I get scared.

Why?

I don't know.

We're doomed, Roberto,

and I want to break out of the prison.

Instead of digging a tunnel in the dirt,

I'll make a tunnel but in the sky.

There were days when pizza could not fill the void.

Night fell over the city.

Everybody seemed to have something to do,

some place to go.

My will to live seemed to shrink

to dangerously melancholic levels.

On those occasions,

I felt that my heartbeat slowed to the bare essential

to keep faking me alive.

However, it's curious how sometimes God

will even make use of the devil to bring hope back to us.

What are you doing here?

I called you at work and they said you hadn't shown up,

- so I asked for your address. - Come on up.

I wanted to ask for a favor.

Could you keep my bag for a few days?

It's got a couple of pieces and...

Listen to me, jackoff:

First, show me some respect, I don't run in your circle.

Second, who the fuck do you think you are to implicate me like this?

What were you thinking? That you were hanging out with some asshole?

That's what you all think,

that I'm some poor guy you can just rip off?

What's the matter, Roberto? Have you gone insane?

Who wants you rip you off?

You said we were going to be friends, didn't you?

I don't have any other place to leave this at.

If they find it on me, I'm screwed. Who's going to find it here?

- I brought you this, too. - What's that? A recorder.

Yeah, I thought it could be useful for your work.

Thank you, but I couldn't work with it knowing it was stolen.

If I had money I would have bought it for you.

I wanted to give you a present.

Since you're this half journalist...

That way you can record the goofy things we say.

So, how's the novel coming out? Am I in it yet?

Sit down.

Come, have a seat here.

Can we remove the typewriter? I feel like my statement is being taken.

That's your piece, isn't it?

- What do you do here, Roberto? - Here? I write.

This is my house.

You're married.

Where's your wife?

She's at the theater. She's an actress.

An actress?

I would have liked to be an actor. Really.

If I hadn't been a crook, I would've liked to be an actor.

The old man gathered us all together one day

and asked what we wanted to be in this life.

When it was my turn, I said: an actor or a crook.

Be a crook, he said,

it's less risky and leaves more dough.

- Did you finish high school? - Sure. I have my diploma.

If I didn't have a diploma,

I couldn't fend for myself in life.

What happened with your old man?

Do you want to tell me?

I know a bit through Estela and Claudio, but I'm keen on your take.

On the old man? There's none. He was a son of a bitch.

Is that calling him son of a bitch just anger,

or does it also hide some admiration?

Admiration, no. He did his thing, screwed us all,

but he did his thing.

You want to do your thing, too, don't you?

Is there anything else? Don't you do your thing, too?

The old man caught on to everything going to hell, and said

Every man for himself.

When the ship started going down he yelled:

Women and children first.

And he jumped himself.

There's also the possibility that he went to look for help.

To save you all.

And that something happened to him along the way.

I'm just saying. It's not that I want to defend him,

but you know that life is very tough.

That a man who, at that age...

sees everything crumbling down...

He went out for help and got distracted for five years.

What if he died?

I hope so.

I'm going to tell you a secret.

My siblings, especially Estelita and Claudio,

I know they're still waiting for him to come back,

even if it's like until a couple of years ago,

with champagne and presents, as if he was Santa Claus.

I don't say anything. I'm waiting, too.

But to shoot the hell out of him.

Sometimes I dream of running into him in one of those places I bust,

of having him there with his hands up.

Do you think you could shoot him?

Five shots. One for each one of us.

- Have you ever killed anyone? - No.

To go out for help...

Do you know what he did to look for help?

Have Estelita or Claudio told you?

He got re-married. And had other kids.

- How do you know that? - We all know.

But none of them will tell you.

Because they'd rather go on believing that he'll come back.

He was living in practically worse conditions than us.

In a slum.

And do you know what the son of a bitch did?

Since the woman he hooked up with, she already had kids,

and on top it she had more with him,

this time around he didn't go out for help.

Once in a while he'd grab one of the brats,

two or three years old,

and say they were going for a walk.

Then he'd take the train, or the subway...

at the worst time, when they're packed,

and when the brat was distracted he'd get off,

and abandon the kid there.

Afterwards I learned through a guy that...

well, that this happens often.

Isn't it better to steal?

Tell me, Roberto.

If he didn't have enough to feed the kids,

wasn't it better to steal

than to hand those kids over to the beasts?

One day we went to a movie with Estelita, and on the subway

she started crying like crazy because she felt that the city

could be full of her little brothers, abandoned.

"Well, yes!", I said, wherever you look, they're there.

The subways are full. The trains are full.

The streets are full...

Fuck you! And then they speak to me about morality...

- Who does, Jose? - Everyone, man...

You're dying to talk to me about morality.

You don't want the recorder because you've got morals.

Fuck, I risked my life to bring it to you.

But, sure, the only thing you care about

is that you didn't buy it with your credit card.

- I don't have one. - It�s all right...

If they're going to kick us out anyway, Robertito...

Who cares what we do in the meantime?

- Was your old man immoral by leaving? - Of course.

And you, by staying and helping your family out, what are you?

What are you trying to tell me? That I'm not immoral?

- Maybe less immoral than you think. - My ass. You can do anything.

The same worms that eat up a guy who murdered

will eat up the one who invented a vaccine.

They're the same worms that eat the author of a novel and me.

At least we have that in common.

We are brothers in Christ, and in worms.

You've known a better world.

Some time in your childhood life was better.

Do you have any memory of that time?

Do you remember anything in particular?

I was always a bit of a troublemaker.

I was almost never home.

I skipped school more than I attended.

I don't know, everything always seemed a big lie to me.

Is there any good image that you like to remember?

From that time.

Think hard.

Don't just give me any wacky answer to try and

surprise me or to make me feel sorry for you.

One good image. You must have one.

- From back then? - From that time in the neighborhood.

When everything seemed to be all right...

Sometimes I dream of something but it's a goof.

Tell me.

The lunch service truck...

They were unloading trays with sandwiches and cupcakes,

and punch because it was Estelita's fifteenth birthday.

It's a good memory.

I still remember the smell of the tiny hot dogs.

The color bulbs all across the back yard.

The smell of the plants.

Jasmines.

Yes, the smell of jasmines in the garden.

Until one day we were told the party was over.

And we never knew why.

You're a writer,

do you have any ideas?

What happened? What did we do wrong?

If you could explain it, Roberto, it would do us much good.

Because none of us knows.

Leave the bag. I'll keep it for you.

It works with small batteries.

Presence of mind.

Presence.

To repress your emotions, my poor Margarita,

even though the time hasn't come.

What we need now, for everyone to be saved,

is presence of mind.

For my wife life was a play.

For me, it was a novel.

Our life seemed to be nothing but a stage show.

A stage show that was smothering me.

I decided to get off the stage.

Hi.

What are you doing here?

I just left a client and I dropped by to say hi.

Do you still not want to go bed with me?

It's the first time we see each other in the daylight.

And we're still alive. That proves we're not vampires.

Mom said if I saw you I should ask you over for ravioli on Sunday.

The guys want to see you, too. Apparently they liked you.

Why that word?

Does it refer to a thing's keeper, as in hen wife, or to a man's wife?

I don't know.

I felt I didn't need that word anymore.

It really means the same, doesn't it?

And what is that?

This is a speedometer.

How will you manage to get it down?

- Will you take it apart? - Of course.

And then I'll lower it with a pulley wheel.

- What about making it fly? - I'll take it to the flying club.

What are these marks?

Those are the abortions Carla had with me.

- Good morning, professor. - How are you doing?

I wanted to talk to you.

I left home, Jose.

Now it's less safe for me to have what you left with me.

- I'm in a hotel. - What? Your wife kicked you out...

All right. I'll pick them up tomorrow. Where are you?

Call the office and we'll meet after work.

I want to ask you some questions.

Always asking questions.

You should have been a whistle blower, not a writer...

All right. I'll call you.

- Are you leaving? - Yes.

I'm sorry. I've got a sure lead for La Plata's fourth.

If I win, I'll buy the cookies for mate.

- Are you staying? - Maybe.

This is me the day I graduated as a teacher.

Me.

Why are most of the pictures cut up?

It's one of Mom's favorite pastimes.

Dad was in some of them.

In others, there were relatives she fell out with over time.

That's Mario in technical school.

I think it's the year he graduated.

That's Grandmother's back yard.

- This is you. - Yes.

This is Mario, Jose, Claudio, Mom.

This is Dad.

What were you like as a boy, Claudio?

A jackass. A jackass who was always scared.

- Scared of what? - A lot of things.

Most of them burnt into us by that saint over there.

Fear was always her trade.

How did she instill fear in you? Did she hit you?

Of course, like she did all of us.

And do you think she's to blame for your dad leaving?

I don't know. But I think she was a good enough reason to leave.

Yes, but that wasn't the reason.

The old man must have loved her.

if not he wouldn't have had four children with her.

Sometimes, when we'd be visiting for instance, I remember

that, I don't know, I'd done something she didn't like.

Then she'd call me over, smiling, so that it would slip by

the other relatives and she'd say: "we'll settle this".

I kept on playing, hours went by,

I'd forget the whole thing, we went back...

as if nothing had happened.

When the front door was closed,

the fury unraveled, the bottled-up rage.

She'd grab me and drag me to the bathroom

and stick me under the cold shower dressed and all.

- How old were you? - Six, five, six.

A while later the... would smell of cupcakes, which drove me crazy,

it was almost the only thing I ate.

And I didn't...

she'd make them for me.

And I didn't... what to do with all the hatred I had for her.

I felt like trash.

And this one cried more than when he was put under the shower.

Life wasn't easy for her, either.

No, it wasn't. Poor old woman.

At some level he must love her.

He hates her. He tried to kill her several times.

- Kill her? - Yes.

He slips her slug poison.

The one he uses squash.

When she's not looking, he slips it into her soup, her tea.

The old woman must be immunized by now.

Does she know?

Yes. It was she who told me.

But she doesn't want Claudio to know that she knows.

She suspects anything she eats or drinks

when she's alone with him. But she doesn't say anything to him.

I might see her crying while she washes a pot

or a cup and I realize right away.

He's slipped her poison once again. It's like a game.

We won! We won.

Good!

- Cheers. - You poured me very little.

Cheers. Cheers.

Cheers.

- Want one, mate? - Great.

Cheers.

What was I doing there?

How had our lives come to be entangled?

Anyhow, there they were, in the same movie with me.

I felt that's what we all were characters

in a movie someone was watching.

But who might be watching? Maybe no one.

The light would go out one day

for them as much as for me.

Possibly without ever knowing why we'd been there.

Why we had allowed ourselves to be ill-treated.

Why we had accepted not to be happy.

Hi, Uncle. I'm going into action.

What will you bet on? Player or Banker?

- I'm going for Player. - I don't understand.

Wait for me at the bar on the corner until seven.

If I haven't shown up by then, it was Banker.

The Player bet won. What had you bet on?

I didn't bet. I like the taste.

Precisely that I wanted to talk to you about.

You were in a hold-up. What kind of business?

A video store. Little dough.

I've been thinking, Roberto.

I want you to write scenes and I'll act them out.

You have an imagination.

Think of good muggings and we're all saved.

We give Mario the dough for him to finish the plane.

You go to Brazil with Estela.

Beach, sun. Picture yourself finishing the novel out there.

We buy a little apartment for Claudio and the old woman

and I split too, to see the world.

The planet is so large, Robertito

and one is locked up in this shit, brother.

They'll never pay you that much for your imagination.

I'm offering you liberation, man.

You don't have to do absolutely anything, just think.

What will you keep waiting for? The time you finish the novel?

And if you do finish it, how much dough will you make?

- You're insane, Jose. - Maybe. But think about it.

Let's go to the hotel. I'll give you the bag.

The novel wasn't going forward.

But I was more and more involved

in the life of those drifting lunatics.

I wanted to help so that the remains of the shipwreck made it to a safe shore.

But they seemed to be going in the opposite direction.

Into deep sea.

And they were dragging me along.

He disappeared.

I think he doesn't want to have anything to do with us anymore.

With me.

Were you happier before, without him, or now?

Even though he's gone. Even with your heart broken,

don't you feel more alive?

What do I want to feel more alive for if I'm dying?

Does he know how you feel?

Not entirely.

I thought by surrendering my body to him we'd get closer.

But he's an intellectual.

What can I do?

Wait till he discovers you.

Maybe he doesn't deserve you.

- I brought what you asked me for. - Thank you.

Can I ask you something?

- What's this for? - I'm leaving.

- Where to? - I don't know.

To be with people. I'm very tired.

I can't take it anymore, Estelita...

I have to put up with those who tore

the flesh off their fellow men expecting my forgiveness.

And I have to be there.

Looking at them the same way I look at you.

And I have to feel love.

for those who condemn their brothers

to misery, and pain.

I can't take it anymore.

What will happen to me?

- I'll always be there for you. - Where?

Wherever I am. Everywhere, with you.

Estela...

I know he loves you.

Give him time, so that he gets to know it, too.

- How are you doing? - Hi.

- Does the house have ghosts of me? - No, no ghosts.

But when are you going to finish taking your stuff away?

Why did you call me?

If it's money, you know I'm broke.

I might need something else.

What if I just felt like talking to you?

All right. I'm sorry.

I'm in trouble.

What kind of trouble?

Susana...

Was it ever any other way?

At some point we loved each other...

and we cared about what happened to the other, didn't we?

At some point we did.

In all these years,

have you ever believed that

I could be anything but an insurance salesman?

Why not? I never felt you were an asshole

like you made me feel I was so many times.

Have you ever believed me as a writer?

Yes.

Did you ever think I could be something else?

Yes, I've already told you, a writer.

- What about a felon? - What do you mean, a felon?

- A thief. A mugger. - No. I never thought of that.

I'm going to be an accomplice to some hold-ups.

I'll be... part of a gang.

But, have you gone insane?

What about your job?

I was fired, but it's not because of that.

But how is it possible that you can do such a thing?

- It's a very long story. - Is this about a woman?

It has to do with the novel.

Roberto, why don't you look for someone who can help you?

- I don't know, a doctor.. - A psychiatrist!

You never understood a fucking thing!

And what is there for me to understand?

Anyone can understand this, anyone but you.

Always living halfway.

Because your Lordship was destined for something else.

I was never entirely your woman

because you kept waiting for a dream woman.

Never took your job seriously, because you were a writer.

Always screwing other people over.

You know what your problem is?

Your problem is reality. You can't take it.

And what do you know about reality?

When are you alive? During those two hours a day you spend on a stage?

Have you noticed what you are off-stage?

Have you ever thought about your life off-stage?

My life off-stage is life now.

Because I have someone who loves me, takes care of me, protects me.

Someone who loves me and fucks me like God intended.

What the fuck do I care?

I have a woman, too. And you know what?

She has something you'll no longer have. She's young. Young!

Poor soul. If she's young and she's with you, I feel sorry for her.

And if you have her why on earth do you come around to pester me?

Or do you want to do with her what you did with me?

I'm leaving. I can't take the stench of old in this house anymore.

It's the stench you left, darling. Go ahead, drown in your madness,

but don't screw other people over.

- Lousy actress! - Fucking lunatic!

- You mediocre! - Loser!

- You frigid! - You impotent!

- Cow! - Felon!

- Good afternoon, Father. - My son, this is a holdup.

What side would God be on in that story?

Jose wanted to know that in each holdup.

If there was an answer, I wanted to hear it too.

- Hello. - Hello.

We wanted to know how you were doing.

Come in.

- Roberto. - Yes.

- What am I like in the novel? - Similar.

What's the name of the character?

Estela.

And does she do the same things I do?

Some...

Only, when she pretends she'll jump under a train

to get a customer,

she's really lying.

She was really going to jump.

Poor Estelita.

Let me propose a test.

Go back to the subway and do the scene again...

in different stations.

What for?

I'd like to observe those who save you.

I want to know if anyone else can save you.

Who saved you?

No one.

I saved myself.

I don't know what your Estela would have done.

I don't want to die.

Not now.

All right, but the trial can last for months, and what then?

Stop, please, Pedro, let�s leave this place.

Let�s go anywhere, where no one knows us.

If you don't show up for trial, they can't do anything to you,

we can work any jobs.

I love you Pedro, I don't want to lose you.

What are you doing?

The house is packed.

The box office is bursting with dough.

- Player or Banker? - You're crazy, wait.

I'm coming.

- Who is it? - It's me.

What's the matter?

It's over, Roberto.

- You went too far. - What did I do?

Jose told me.

That you planned the last holdups together.

The cinema thing was his delusion, I had nothing to do with it.

But don't you realize that Jose is a sick man?

What kind of a son of a bitch are you?

- What are we, your characters? - Hang on, hang on.

And what are you going to do now?

What will you do with Jose now that he killed a guy?

What are you going to do?

Tell me! What's the next chapter like?

Or is it that you haven't gotten that far in the novel yet?

What are you doing?

You think I might jump, don't you?

That would be an ending you wouldn't have to think up on your own.

Let's see if a character can do this to you.

It was my delusion you had nothing to do with it

Why did you do it?

I don't know. It was an impulse.

- We're being watched. - It's nothing, my people are here.

You know when they offer you a lottery ticket?

And you don't...

But once you've seen the number...

It was a guy's life, Jose. Not a lottery ticket.

I know.

Do you believe in fate?

That was going to happen anyway.

I only was the weapon.

Somebody had decided that man was going to die.

So now you're an instrument of God? You're totally crazy, Jose, crazy.

This is not a game.

Like I said on the phone: I don't want to see you anymore.

It's a pity.

I was going to give you another idea for your novel.

I have a big hit coming up.

But it doesn't matter. I don't hold a grudge.

I'll still give Estelita the money for you two to go to Brazil.

Are you such a moron that you didn't tell anyone you'd been fired?

What's that about a big hit, Jose?

A funeral home. Write it down, check this title out.

The great final battle against death.

You can't fight death in its own turf, Jose.

It's going to be a great hit. A hold-up, meters away from God.

In his secretary's office. He's going to hear us, Roberto.

If he exists, I'll be so close to him that he will have to hear us.

He had announced it to me.

He had talked about a great final battle against death.

He went into the wolf's mouth.

They were having a wake for a police officer.

His great final battle against death never took place.

They killed him like a dog.

The idiot.

Estela...

do you think I'm to blame?

No. But you could have prevented it.

What could I have given you?

What could I have given Jose to prevent this ending?

I'm not the father you lost, Estela.

No, I know that. What are you?

How does it feel to be standing before Jose's corpse?

Or to be sitting at the typewriter

while life goes by for others?

Things happen to other people.

Nothing happens to you.

It must be terrible.

It must be like being dead... right?

Good luck with the novel.

What was to remain of that story?

And I wasn't thinking about the novel. I was thinking about my life.

What a petty, mediocre destiny.

After all that had taken place,

I was ready to surrender to a grey and familiar death.

We were right back at the beginning. Nothing had happened.

Things did happen. Son of a bitch!

All right. Calm down. I know things happened.

No, you don't know shit. You didn't understand a thing.

All right. I didn't understand. What can I do?

Nobody fucking gives up here! Move on!

If you didn't understand some day you will.

Presumptuous bug. Who the fuck do you think you are?

Put your coat on and go.

- Where to? - You know where.

Hello, Mario.

I want the plane to fly.

Roberto...

Thank you for what you did for Mario.

We won't forget you.

And why would you forget me?

We're leaving.

Where are you going?

Misiones.

The doctor advised Mom

to take Claudio to a different climate.

Because of his lung problems.

The three of us are leaving.

We have nothing else to do here.

Why are you going to Misiones with Mom?

Because of my health.

OK, all right.

Mom... my aunt in cemetery.

She said she... Dad in Misiones.

Claudio, you know that most likely they won't find Dad.

An even if they did what good would it do now?

I... because I don't want to leave the old woman.

Will it be easier for you to kill her over there?

In the end we spent very little time together.

We had a lot of things to talk about.

Those... are never said anymore.

- Are you angry? - No, I... have liked

you to love me more. But it's all right.

Jose and Mario were your favorites. As dad.

Don't say that.

I... they... always more... characters

But...you see I... not angry

I want to give you... word.

It's... word I... not say anymore.

But I don't want to cross this one out on... wall.

- What word? - Squash.

No, don't laugh.

To me... very important word.

Squash will dry up.

But you're going to... word.

When you say squash, you'll be able to think of, of these...

of...

No.

I can't let her go.

If I let her go, my life is over.

No.

- Excuse me! Excuse me! - Where are you going?

Please! I can't let her go.

Excuse me, please. It's an emergency.

- Are you not feeling well? - Excuse me.

I'm in love. And I was an idiot.

Excuse me. I'm in love. What do you want me to do?

Come back another day.

It seemed to me you were going to be left too alone.

The mistake during that whole time

was to look for the great salvation.

It doesn't exist. Great salvations do not exist.

Some day you will know.

Perhaps, if one does exist,

it's only small salvations.

Like you or like your mother.

Don't look at me like that,

as if I was talking bullshit to you.

I know that you're not interested in this stuff now.

You're in paradise.

But you'll get kicked out, son. You'll get kicked out.

Squash dries up some day.

But what does squash cares, right?

They're here. Growing anyway.

As if it didn't know anything or as if it knew everything.

How scared this coming night would make me

If I didn't have you two.

Are you listening to me?

to Mora

Subtitles ripped by gooz karagarga, 2018