All language subtitles for The.Last.Time.I.Saw.Macao.2012

THE LAST TIME I SAW MACAO

Thirty years later
I'm on my way to Macao

where I haven't been
since I was a child.

A little over a week ago, in Lisbon,

I got an e-mail from a friend
I hadn't heard from in ages.

I knew that Candy
had left to the Far East,

lured by the exoticism

or by an easier life,
I'm not sure...

The only thing I knew was
that I had lost her trace.

In the e-mail she told me that

she had been involved
yet again with the wrong men,

except now the consequences
were very serious:

a good friend of hers had been murdered
during some harmless "war games".

She thought
she might be the next victim

and I was the only person
who she could still trust.

She asked me to go to Macao

where some "strange and scary things"
were happening,

as she put it.

Candy gave me precise instructions
about the place I should stay at

and begged me
not to tell anyone about my arrival.

My name is Guerra da Mata.

Tired, after a long flight,

I'm approaching Macao aboard the jetfoil
which will take me back

to the happiest time in my life.

This is Macao, an ex-Portuguese
colony that never really was.

Singular and bizarre,

it is a crossroads for people
of different races and nationalities

who come here to try their luck.

Macao never stops.

It is the city with the world's
highest population density

and also the city
where you can feel the loneliest.

An architectural jungle
flaunting two faces,

like the coins that the slot machines
swallow at breakneck pace,

one calm and smiling,

the other veiled and secretive.

The fascinating
Las Vegas of the East

is the friendliest
and cruelest of cities

where nothing is what it seems.

As an old Chinese proverb says:

"Gold cannot be pure

and men cannot be perfect."

I arrived while the 11th
National People's Congress of China

was taking place in Beijing.

I read in the Hong Kong newspaper
that I bought at the airport:

"The slogan, harmonious society,"

exhaustively repeated by Chinese
leaders in former years,

"has disappeared
from the official discourse."

Does the taxi driver know that the
television's picture is upside down?

I'd thought of coming back
before the return of sovereignty

on 20th December 1999.

The Handover, as they say here.

Now Macao, the lotus flower
of the East, is Chinese,

after more than 400 years
of Portuguese rule.

The Portuguese, empty-handed
and with Apollo-like faces,

look with a slight smile upon China,
and its impassive and timid expression,

as if to deny the country's eternal
and real dominion over the territory.

Amongst Christmas
lights and carols,

I blend into the flow
of privileged Chinese tourists.

They managed to get visitors' permits

to glimpse the West
through this Macanese keyhole.

In the centre of the city's
most iconic square,

covered in Portuguese cobblestones
during the final years of our rule,

I come across
a portrait of Mao Tse-Tung

posing with workers,
soldiers and peasants

for a souvenir of the euphoric
Cultural Revolution.

As if History could be erased

with a simple click
of the dozens of cameras

that obsessively freeze the memory
and fantasize happiness.

Even the Astro Boy of my youth

seems to have been invited
to the festivities.

I helped myself
to a Duty Free whisky

and waited for the phone call,
as arranged.

On the television
I heard a song from a time

I thought
everyone wanted to forget.

Baby, it's Candy.

Candy, darling,
I've missed you...

I'm glad you've come.
I knew I could count on you.

So what's happening?

I'll tell you later.
Now listen carefully:

you have to meet
a friend of mine, A-Kan right now

in the pedestrian street between
Rua de Pequim and Rua de Shanghai.

He has a black leather jacket.
He'll wait for you

in front of the sex shop.
He'll bring you to me.

But Candy...

I've got to hang up, love.
Be careful...

I had to cross the city
as quickly as possible.

I wanted to take a rickshaw,

but rickshaws are no longer
a means of transport;

just bait for tourists.

I caught a taxi,

one of thousands of vehicles
that clog up the city every day.

There were tiger lanterns everywhere.

The Chinese Zodiac says
that people

born under the sign of the Tiger
are ambitious, brave and dedicated

but also aggressive and implacable.

They make good leaders and warriors.

Macao seems to have been overrun
by an army of playful tigers...

As I predicted,

traffic was chaotic
and I was stuck in a traffic jam.

I'd arrive late at the rendezvous.

I couldn't warn Candy;

I had left my mobile
in my jacket pocket back at the hotel.

I decided to get out and walk.

Macao is not that big.

I gave the driver 50 patacas
and didn't wait for the change.

The streets all looked the same.

I got lost. I asked for directions
but no-one could understand me.

Four centuries
of Portuguese presence in Macao

and no-one speaks Portuguese...

When I finally found the street,
Mr. A-Kan had already left.

You should have returned to the hotel

to try and talk to Candy.

If you had met that night
everything could have been different.

If only time
had stopped that night...

I went back to the hotel.

I had several missed calls
and a text from Candy, anxious,

asking what had happened to me.

I tried calling
but her mobile was switched off.

I couldn't do any more that night.

Exhausted, I fell asleep

watching a documentary
about the Camoes' Garden.

I woke up late
and phoned Candy again

but her mobile was still turned off.

I was afraid
that the worst had happened.

Not knowing what to do, I stayed in
my room to see if she'd ring me there.

I zapped through the Chinese channels,

the only ones available.

I didn't understand a word
of this Cantonese opera.

I imagined the story
of a mysterious secret book,

coveted by desperate women
and dangerous bandits,

like the pirate stories
in the China Seas of my youth.

I sent Candy a text
asking her to ring me urgently

and went out for lunch.

The Portuguese man arrived yesterday.
Is the meeting in the temple?

The meeting's still in the agreed place.
But you have to be careful.

That's not a problem,
he's being watched.

Madame Lobo says
for the moment there's no danger.

The Portuguese man
is a lamb amongst wolves.

There is no point in killing the lamb.

Understood,
I'll pass on the information.

I went down Palmeira' Street

looking for a restaurant
my parents took me to.

I don't remember there being
so many stray dogs in Macao.

Lucky, my first dog,
suffered a worse fate;

he ended up being
eaten by the Chinese.

Fortunately, those restaurants
no longer exist.

Sadly, the roving vendors from whom
I bought candy by my old school gates

had been banned.

Joy Alley

Santa Rosa de Lima School
is different.

My classroom has been turned
into a warehouse for rubbish

and the boys are gone.

I had a strange foreboding,
something I couldn't explain.

As if the shadow of death
was hovering over Macao.

I passed by a Portuguese restaurant.

I didn't travel thousands of miles
for a Portuguese egg tart.

While eating a noodle soup
I rang Candy again,

but the phone was still switched off.

I decided to go to the casino Jai Alai
where she now worked.

The former Basque pelota.

Did everything go well?

Yes, nothing I couldn't fix.

We met up at the Loan Tower,
but he didn't want to return the cage.

I killed him and it's over.

You did well,
maybe now they'll calm down.

What about the transvestite
and the Portuguese man?

As far as the Portuguese man goes,
Madame Lobo says to wait.

He knows nothing.

The transvestite's being dealt with.

So, all is as planned. The great ritual
of the chosen ones has begun.

When the cage is ready
you will be contacted.

I walked along by the old wall
on the Praia Grande Avenue

which used to separate
Macao from the sea.

The old trees
sculpted by the wind

are no longer battered
by waves on typhoon days;

they stand solitary,
wedged between the traffic,

waiting for people to come back
and stroll in their shade.

And in the distance, Macao Tower, which
dominates the land stolen from the sea,

seemed to be observing me,
with all its monumental arrogance,

as if to prove
that times have changed.

No-one wanted to talk about Candy.

Mistrustful,
everyone seemed to ignore me.

I was on the verge of giving up

when one of the hotel staff
said, fearfully,

she hadn't come to work
for two nights.

She suggested I go to the Military Club
where Candy usually had dinner.

Upon leaving,
I stared at the empty stage.

I had some time to kill
until dinnertime

and decided to go to the house
where I had lived in the 70s.

The Moorish Barracks
are now a tourist attraction

in the Historic Centre of Macao,

classified a World Heritage Site
by UNESCO in 2005.

Do you remember
the story you told me?

Wasn't this the ledge running above
the prison terrace you used to cross?

You'd jump onto the terrace
of the arsenal

and hide the toys
of your secret group

by the window that overlooked
the cell block corridor.

- What was your secret group called?
- It was the Fire Dragon.

Do you think
the toys are still there?

That window no longer exists.

The people united
shall never be defeated

Honor the motherland
because the motherland beholds you

Department of Financial Administration

Head of supply section

It seemed as if all the dogs
in Macao were following me.

I received a text:

It was signed:

I watched the sunset
over the Peoples' Republic of China

and understood
that despite the ceaseless construction

and the building sites
that almost doubled its area,

Macao continues to be the same:

a small territory where everyone always
knows everything about everything.

Honor the motherland
because the motherland beholds you

Siege gates border post

Despite apparent normality,
it continues

to be a small besieged
and guarded peninsula.

However, it was here
that I wanted to be,

and no anonymous threat

was going to make me leave.

Candy never showed up
at the Military Club,

which was empty,

populated by ghosts from the past.

I rang back

but her mobile was still switched off.

I sent her another text.

Not knowing what to do,
I wandered,

lost in the casinos' neons.

Candy didn't show up
for work that night either.

I went for dinner.

There was nothing more I could do.

If Candy didn't contact me tonight,

the next day
I would go to the police.

Can someone enjoy such great food
among so many people and feel so alone?

For I did.

- Candy, are you all right?
- Yes... I don't know.

I sent you so many messages...

I saw. Baby, I'm sorry for everything.
It's more complicated than I thought.

Baby, we don't have much time.
They may be listening.

- Where are you?
- At the Inner Harbour.

Oh good, you're nearby.

Come to my house,
but you have to come now.

The address is Travessa da Saudade,
number 22, 1st floor right.

You can't miss it, love,
it's a modern building.

I'll come straight over.

Baby, we are all in danger.
Be careful!

I thought I knew
where the street was,

but I got lost.

No-one would give me directions.

Finally I found the building.

The light in Candy's apartment
was on.

I rang the bell
but no-one opened the door.

I rang several times.

When the door opened,
I walked in.

Candy, are you there?

Open the door, it's me.

Is there anybody in?

Open up!

- Mr. João?
- Yes.

- Who's speaking?
- I can't...

- A friend of Candy.
- Where is Candy?

Yes, big problem.
They took Candy.

I was hiding.
I heard them talk.

Again, who are they?

They are with Madame Lobo.

Yes. They want to hurt Candy.
She knows too much.

Go to the small bridge
in the harbor. Goodbye.

Go quickly. Save her.

Hello?

Please, stop!

Help me! Help!

Don't hurt me, please! No!

Could that be Candy's shoe?

The dogs kept staring at me.

The sound of Candy's mobile

echoed in the strangely silent night.

Where could she be?

Can that man have seen something?

But the man praying to the river
ignored me.

My torch caught something shiny
stuck on the rocks.

It was Candy's wig.

Hello?

Mr. De Mata. We told you once.
We'll tell you again.

Please go back to your country.
Forget Macao.

Remember Candy?
You can be next.

The dragon has spoken.

It's not worth it,
he doesn't have the cage.

Let's go.

Candy was dead.

She asked me for help
and I failed.

I don't know what's happening
and I should go to the police

but frankly, I'm not interested.

Tomorrow I'm catching
the plane to Lisbon.

My darling,

by the time you read this letter,
I may be dead.

I have so many things to tell you

but I'm afraid
I won't have that chance.

Macao is so small
and, still, since you came

we haven't been able to meet.

I am afraid that we'll never see
each other again, at least in this life.

I would like to write about
the crazy years we had in Lisbon,

about all the wonderful things
that have happened to me

in this self-imposed Asian exile,

but time is running out
and I will have to be brief

because I am being watched,
as you may be also.

My darling,

you know what I do for a living.

I hear many things that men
would like to forget they have told me.

You know how it is...

But this time the situation
is serious, very serious.

For many ancestral cultures,

2012 is the year when this age
will end and another will begin.

Some Buddhist prophecies say
that this will be the year

when the human race becomes extinct.

I always thought Macao

was a place of myths and superstitions.

Now I know that in this City

of the Holy Name of God
not everything is myth.

We are all ruled by an animal:

I am a tiger,
I think you are a snake.

I don't know if you know
the history of the Chinese Zodiac:

Buddha invited
all the animals of creation

to a party on New Year's Eve.

The twelve that showed up

swore that each of them would walk
the earth for one day and night

in turn to protect the human race.

So, thanks to the constant vigilance
of the animals,

Buddha guarantees
order in the Universe.

I am telling you this
because the end is near.

And I, stupid as I am,
got you involved in all of this.

Yes, your life too is in danger.

But don't underestimate
what I am telling you.

The prophecy will be fulfilled
sooner or later.

Various sects are involved,
but the sect of the Zodiac,

or the Dog Men,
as it is also known,

seems to have been chosen by
Buddha himself, so they say.

You must think I've gone mad.

How I wish that this was just
another one of my stories,

made up after too many drinks
and other things, as we usually did...

But I am writing to you

because I think it's still possible
to change the course of events.

A-Kan has just arrived.

I have reread what I wrote. I see
I've left nearly everything unsaid.

He will see that you get this letter

if something happens to me.

Go to the Inner Harbour, hire a sampan
from one of the fishermen

and look for the ancient pirates' cave
on the island of Coloane.

I don't know exactly what you'll find,

but that's where everything happens.

Look for the book of the Apocalypse
and the sacred cage.

You must believe me
and do exactly what I tell you.

And, however absurd
it all seems to you,

every time you question what you
are witnessing and have doubts,

trust your first instinct.

For better or worse,
this is the only way you will survive.

Baby, save yourself!

Your Candy.

At the entrance of the cave, I saw
a pair of tights floating on the water.

As if Candy
was showing me the way.

Or were they the tights Jane Russell
had thrown overboard 60 years ago?

Candy was right
about the sect of the Zodiac.

They know the secret
of the metamorphosis

and, for some reason, they were
turning themselves into animals.

Frightened, I tried to go back

but got lost in the dark tunnels.

I went round in circles
until I found away out

and forgot all about
the book and the cage.

I arrived in the middle of the island

and discovered a Macao
I never knew existed.

Room for hire

Nothing seemed to make sense.

But in life,
many things don't make sense.

I came to feel
the presence of death again.

I remembered Candy's words

and let myself be guided
by my instincts.

I had nothing to lose.

- Yes?
- I've been waiting for you to call me.

I'm getting worried.

Is there any news?

I was just going to ring you.
I still haven't heard anything

and that's a bad sign.

We'd better get away.

Tell your wife to close the shop,

but be careful. Be discrete.

We'll meet at the temple.

If we want to survive
the only thing left to do is pray.

Madame Lobe 'rs nervous.
Have you sent the order'?

Yes, it will happen now.

That night, the city seemed
to have gone mad.

Rituals that resembled a commemoration.

Or were they desperate prayers
to avoid a fate that everyone feared?

Please don't kill me!

Have mercy!

Remember Candy's words:

Baby, save yourself!

And then I understood why I had
returned to Macao 30 years later.

It was not difficult to buy a gun

and find happiness.