All language subtitles for Los Farad.S01E01.eng(1)

I never wanted to kill anyone.

I never wanted to go to a war

to get rich
off other people's misfortunes.

I wasn't like that.

I was a simple guy, the boy next door,

who liked firecrackers and foosball.

I never dreamed of having
a mansion with a swimming pool.

But when you're a nobody,
you think you deserve everything.

Even if you have no clue
about how the world works,

or even care.

I knew nothing about politics.

I had no idea about the Cold War.

I couldn't find Moscow, Washington,
Yemen or Prague on a map.

My world began at Aluche

and ended at La Castellana.

Violence was a way to let off steam.

Ideology was a mere poster.

Or a Che Guevara T-shirt.

Life was simple,

with good guys and bad guys.

Death was something that happened
to the junkies in my neighborhood.

And so it was,
until Leo Farad's family noticed me.

A gaze that could contain
beauty and seduction.

A roguish gaze that conveyed
insolence and cockiness.

But also pure innocence...

...as if it were free of sin.

Or the depth that comes
with knowing the world

and having the power to make it spin.

Such were the Farads, a happy family.

What I never had.

That's why I wanted to be like them,

join the clan.

Even if it took violence.

THE FARADS

That's me, Oskar,

27 years old.

No education,

but making 60,000 pesetas a month
as an aerobics instructor.

My classes were a huge success.

So I made a decision.

To open my own studio.

No, Manuel.

I can't open
an aerobics studio in Lavapiés.

It's a bad neighborhood,
people in there are broke.

What is it? You only want posh customers?

This is my uncle Manuel,
a miner his whole life.

He became the leading expert
on explosives in Riotinto,

until he was forced to retire early

and came to Madrid
to open a pyrotechnics business.

His plan was to invent a silent firework

that wouldn't bother children or dogs.

He said Spain was
the most festive country in Europe

and he'd get rich off the patent.

Shit.

While he tried to find the formula,

I suggested him to invest in aerobics
and become partners.

FABULOUS COMMERCIAL PREMISES

No. We have to find something here,
in the Salamanca neighborhood.

- This is too expensive.
- But it's where my customers are.

It's where they work.

It's where people with dough live
and spend it happily on a gym.

Just look at the people around here.
Look how they dress.

How they eat.

How they smile.

Look.

That girl over there.

Can you imagine her
eating a calamari sandwich?

You can't, right?

A woman like that

never sets foot in Aluche or Lavapiés.

- Coffee. Keep the change.
- Pure elegance.

A woman like that is pure elegance.

A woman like that doesn't need aerobics.

Of course she does.

This isn't just about burning fat.
It's about this.

It's about releasing endorphins,
feeling good, indulging yourself.

- A beer does the trick for me.
- No wonder.

You've spent half your life
stuck in a mine.

Which is why I have money
to invest in your gym.

But if you want to invest,
you need to understand this.

It's very simple. We need somewhere cheap.

- And in the Salamanca neighborhood.
- Hey! Stop!

Don't touch me! Let go of me!

- Let go!
- Shit...

Fuck.

Fuck!

Hey!

He's probably her boyfriend! Oskar!

Hey!

Shit!

- What the fuck are you doing?
- Helping you.

- Who asked you to?
- He had you against the car.

What is he doing?

Oskar!

- Come on, let's go.
- Yeah.

Leave.

- Fuck you!
- Come on, God damn it.

- Taxi!
- Can you believe that?

He's probably her boyfriend,
I just told you!

Fucking lunatic.

This could have just been an anecdote,

an attempt to impress
a potential customer,

something you forget about
while you move on with your life.

Gunpowder, the gym...

Your dreams of a normal guy,
the boy next door.

But usually, fate has nothing to do
with coincidence,

and much to do with perseverance.

Morning, Paulita. How are you?

- Juana.
- Hi.

- How's your ankle?
- Better, thanks.

- Menthol never fails.
- Yeah.

- Merche.
- When are you playing some flamenco?

Sure, Merche.
Let's leave flamenco for a tablao stage.

- A rumba.
- Yeah, yeah.

Oskar.

Do you remember me?

How's your boyfriend?

He's not my boyfriend.
I don't date that kind of guy.

But it suits you,
with that nasty temper of yours.

What nasty temper?

I just wanted you to know
that I don't need your help.

I've been in much worse situations,
and I know how to handle them.

Did you come here
just to give me a hard time again?

I came to thank you. Nothing more.

At the café they said you worked here.

- What are you? A coach?
- An aerobics instructor.

I'm Sara, by the way.

Nice to meet you.

- I'm doing a master's degree nearby.
- In what?

Business Administration.

But I'm a lawyer.

Like many of my customers.

There's businesswomen,
lawyers, engineers...

Only women?

That's the thing about aerobics.

You'll have to excuse me,
but I have a class right now.

Why don't you try?

No, thank you.

It helps clear the mind.

- You might like it and join.
- I don't even live in Madrid.

- Where do you live?
- Marbella. The master's ends next month.

Then let's do this. Tell me your size
and I'll get you some tights.

No, really.

I just wanted to say thank you.

Hi.

Come on, Juana, please!

Your knee! Stretch that buttock!
There you go.

Well, Sara? You do need help now,
don't you, gorgeous?

Come on!

Straighten your knees, please!

Very good.

That's it.

Very good, Sara.

- "Farath"?
- No, Farad.

F-A-R-A-D.

- Where is that name from?
- Algeria.

- You're Arab?
- Half Arab.

My grandfather came from Tangier,
but he was from Calabria.

So I'm 1/4 African, and 1/2 from Madrid
and 1/2 from Catalonia.

- But tell me about you, besides the gym.
- Me?

Yes, I don't know. Where are you from?

From the Virgen de las Casas Orphanage,
kilometer 17 on the road to Brunete.

- Are you an orphan?
- Almost.

My father died when I was six,
and my mother forgot about me.

What do you mean?

When I turned seven,
she sent me to the orphanage

to make a man out of me,

and she moved in
with a friend of my dad's.

You're kidding.

No, my life is that fun.

I love orphans.

What?

I'm serious.
My father says they're more pure,

because they don't carry family trauma
and they're like books still unwritten.

Your dad's a poet.

I have an uncle named Manuel,

he's always been there.

He'd come to see me on the weekends,

and on holidays he'd take me
to his house in Huelva.

He's my family.

But you grew up alone.

You get used to it.

I don't know if I could.

I'm sure you could.

A lot of times, solitude is a good thing.

The hard part is the cold.

Look. I remember, in winter,

it was freezing, freezing cold,

and when it was time to go outside,

we used to rush out to get a spot

against a wall in the back that was warm
because it was right behind

a bakery oven.

And I remember I'd sit there,

watching the buildings across the street,

and I'd see the windows,

the lights, the homes,

the families having dinner...

And that's my life.

I've been complaining for a year

about Madrid, its people and chaos...

I was dying to finish the school year.

Then you tried my class
and changed your mind.

Of course.

My family has a house in Madrid,
but our business is in Marbella.

- What's your family's business?
- Import-export.

- Export?
- Yes.

Oskar, that guy you hit...

- You don't have to explain.
- I want to.

He's a con man.
He tried to scam my father.

We reported him to the police and, well...

It's part of having a business.

I'm trying to start one.

- Really?
- Yes, well...

I want to stop getting a paycheck
for teaching in a gym

and open up my own.

After all, I'm the reason
the clients come back.

- You'll make a killing.
- Says who?

The girl I helped in the street
that didn't need me,

or the lawyer specialized in business?

I have to go.

- Is something wrong?
- No, it's my dad's chauffeur.

I told him what happened
and he insisted on picking me up.

- I'd like to see you again.
- Sure.

No, not "sure." When?

You're a romantic, Oskar.

Romantic? I'm talking about the classes.

- Goodbye.
- Bye.

She's a special girl.

I bet. If she has a chauffeur
and a Rolls-Royce...

That's not what I mean.
I think there's a connection between us.

A connection? You're not getting it.

The rich people of Marbella
only look down at us.

- You've never been in Marbella.
- But I'm Andalusian.

I know what posh people are like.

Sara isn't posh.
Besides, her grandfather was Arab.

That's even worse.

Here goes.

For fuck's sake.

The AC goes through ducts.
I installed it two years ago.

I don't think it'll give you any trouble.

There will be 30 or 40 people
jumping and sweating in here.

Buddy, I've seen worse.

We'll have to paint the walls.

No problem, this won't ever be
a carpenter's shop again.

Excuse me for a second.

- Well?
- Nice.

Nice, but fucking expensive.

Yeah, but we're two blocks away
from Nuevos Ministerios.

You'll have a hard time
to pay for the remodeling and rent.

No, we'll recover our investment
in three months.

- That's not realistic.
- Trust me.

Just trust me.

Anyway, that was the agency.

Two customers want to see it
this afternoon.

We'll take it.

Great, then like I said,

the deposit is 150,000 pesetas.

My uncle will take care of that.

Won't you?

- Good morning.
- Oskar!

I thought you weren't coming back.

Ugh, that sounds very fatalistic.

You're the first customer
that didn't come back after a session.

I've been very busy,

but here I am.

No tights today, either?

No, I came to give you this invitation.

It's my father's birthday
and he's throwing a party.

There's the address.

You're inviting me
to a family party in Marbella?

No, it's in Madrid.

My dad has friends coming from abroad.
This is more convenient.

- Why am I invited?
- You saved me from an assailant, remember?

Yes, that's right.

It will be full of potential customers.
You'll like it.

I'll see you there.

Good.

By the way,

- do I have to wear a suit?
- No.

Be yourself.

And don't bring anything.

I deluded myself unaware
That I was the one losing

I waited so long
Me who never offered

Today I have to cry
Me who always laughed

- Invitation?
- Yes.

I forgot to live

- Go ahead.
- Thanks.

I forgot to live

I told you not to bring anything.

- Hey, this is...
- It's crazy.

Yes, my father loves crazy things.

Come, I'll introduce you to him.

I played so much with feelings

Living off applauses wrapped in dreams

I shouted so much my songs into the wind

My dad loves him.

It wasn't easy to hire him
so he could come today.

I can imagine.

- Shall we?
- Yes.

I forgot to live

What did you say your father does again?

Imports and exports of appliances.

"Father, I have a guanajo."
And the priest says,

"How long are you going to keep playing
around with the fucking guanajo?

"Guanajo" means "dumbass" in Cuba.

- You almost...
- Dad.

Oskar. The aerobics guy.

Damn, the bottle guy.

- Excuse me?
- You hit the bastard

that attacked her with a bottle, right?

- Yes, well...
- Bring it in, damn it.

This kid has some balls.

- Nice to meet you.
- Kaspar, my dad's partner.

- A pleasure.
- And this is Lopera, an old friend.

You should get a Medal
of Civil Merit, kid.

Are you in
the import-export business, too?

No, I wish. I'm a civil servant.

Lopera is a National Police commissioner.

Wow.

And what do you do?

- I'm an aerobics instructor.
- Let's hope Jane Fonda doesn't find out!

Dad...

Here.

The best mojito in the world.
My Cuban friend Henry taught me.

He says the secret is to use
white rum and black sugar.

- Henry couldn't come?
- He couldn't get the visa.

He lives in Prague.

But Prague isn't very far.

It doesn't matter, it's Communist Europe.
Does the Cold War ring a bell?

They let Kaspar out of Poland
because he has a million friends.

Like the song.

Check this out.
White shrimp from Huelva, authentic.

Try it. I used to buy them in Portugal

and resell them in Vigo
saying they were from Huelva.

- You're in the shellfish business?
- No.

He just can't keep still
and my dad saves him

- every time he screws up.
- Look who's talking.

And what are you doing now?

I just got my yacht captain
license certification.

- Yacht captain?
- Yes, we have a yacht in Puerto Banús.

- Tell Sara to take you, you'd love it.
- I'm sure.

Hey. You grew up in an orphanage, right?

Yes, I did.

Hey, and do a lot of cute guys
go to your classes?

My sister never misses a chance.

- Why don't you fuck off?
- Hey, it's true. Wait!

Oskar!

This is my uncle Khalid.

- I wanted to meet the "bottle man."
- Nice to meet you.

Welcome.

He's Palestinian, but lives in Tunisia.

Or Tripoli, or Damascus, or Paris...

- I carry my home with me.
- Damn.

My niece says

- you're an aerobics teacher.
- That's right.

Like Jane Fonda.

Sara, come here!

Yes! I'll be right back.

Do you know where the bathroom is?

- Ask in the kitchen.
- In the kitchen.

Okay, thanks. Nice meeting you.

One moment, please.

Dad, can you come here?

I remember clearly

The dawn of my childhood

His hands, strong and gentle
At the same time

Later, he taught me to dream

Not to be afraid to fly...

This song is for Dad

For the man who gave me life

Like a light in the darkness

He illuminates me
And instills wisdom in me

This song is for Dad

For the man who gave me life

Like a light in the darkness

Look, Oskar. Look at my sister.

This song is for Dad

For the man who gave me life

- Thank you! Thank you very much.
- Bravo!

Thank you, friends. Many of you
go way back and know me well.

I just want to say that everything I am,
everything I have, I owe it to my family.

I owe it to my wife, Carmen.

To my kids.

I've worked my ass off my whole life.

I've missed out on lots of things
by not being with them,

and now that I'm turning 55
and the damn old age is getting closer,

all I want is to be with them,
hopefully with a grandchild soon,

and to find a club to play pétanque
and prepare my retirement.

Thank you, my friends.

Keep enjoying the party!

- Bravo, Dad!
- Thank you.

- Hey. Leaving already? You can't.
- Well, I have classes tomorrow.

- But it's too early.
- But I live far away.

- Where are you going?
- He's leaving. Don't go.

Stay. The party's just getting started.

- I have classes tomorrow. I need to rest.
- Look.

We'll make some tea in case
you're a bit tipsy so you can stay longer.

It's okay, really.

Thank you. It's a wonderful party.
Thank you very much, really.

A foot coming out of a wall?

I saw it, damn it!

The guy was gagged, I swear.

- And what are you going to do?
- Me? Nothing.

What the hell can I do?
It's not my problem.

What if they're gangsters?

There was
a National Police commissioner in there.

Sure, or so they said.

- Who knows.
- I don't know, Manuel.

It was full of weird people.

Weird how?

Africans, Arabs, Pollacks, Cubans...
Weird people.

Fuck, what if they come after you?

Nobody knows what I saw.

What will you tell her? She's not dumb.
If she notices something...

I don't think I'll see her again, Manuel.

She lives in Marbella
and her MBA is about to finish.

You said you really liked her,
that you had a connection and stuff...

She won't come back, Manuel.

Sara is rich. She and I are nothing alike.

She only wanted
to show gratitude, that's all.

Sweetie, I hurt my shoulder a bit.

That's normal, Juana.
When you did this movement before...

- We need private lessons.
- Anytime, really.

Do you like couscous?

Algerian food.

There's a place nearby
that cooks it amazingly.

I'd love to, really,
but I have a class at 4:00 p.m.

That's two hours away.

Yes, but I have to prepare for it.
I need to stretch, hydrate...

Right.

Are you going to reject me?

Truth is, I was surprised
you left so suddenly, like...

Like something had happened.

What business
is your family in, Sara? Really.

- What do you mean?
- A birthday party with Julio Iglesias,

a fucking amazing mansion,

African, Arab, Pollack, Cuban guests...

Import-export of appliances,
I told you already.

And the guy in the basement?
Was he a fridge?

Oh, my God.

- So that was it.
- What would you have done?

Ask, Oskar. I would have asked.

Ask what? How?

"Hey, do you happen to have a guy
in the basement covered in bruises?"

I'm sorry,
but you have a wild imagination.

I didn't imagine shit. It's what I saw.

A guy gagged and completely beat up
in the basement of a house that, shit...

- I mean, it's your house!
- Oskar, you're wrong.

What you saw is a son of a bitch

who tried to con me and my family,

just like that guy in the street
the other day.

In fact, they work together.

Do you know why he grabbed my hair
and was so hostile?

He wanted to know
where we were keeping his partner.

- That's what happened.
- You had kidnapped him.

What the hell are you saying? Please...

My dad only wanted to scare him.
He let him go already.

Sure, because you say so.

Do you want to come to my house?

I'll take you.

- See for yourself.
- Sara, please.

If you think we're a family

of gangsters who kidnap people,

why didn't you turn to the police?

I'm not the kind that turns to the police.

I prefer talking face to face.

Is that why you took off running?

Oskar, why are you here,
right now, with me?

- Why did you help me in the street?
- Because a guy was beating you.

Are you sure?

Or because you saw a rich girl
and thought I could be your golden ticket?

- My golden ticket to what?
- I don't know, Oskar.

Money is very attractive.

You want to become independent,

to open your own aerobics studio,
to be somebody.

To be successful.

You don't know what you're talking about.
Go fuck yourself.

You know what?

I love the way you are.
I love that you're ambitious and bold.

If you hadn't come today,
I'd have thought, "This guy's a bum.

"He hasn't got the balls
to tell me what's wrong."

But here you are, with me.

Because you're just like me.

- What the fuck does that mean?
- I don't mind being your ticket.

My ticket to what?

Something that's been on my mind
since I tried your first class.

What if we open a gym in Marbella?

Marbella?

It's full of people with lots of money
dying to burn calories.

Are you trying to buy me?

No, Oskar.

You're a genius at making girls sweat.
In economics, that's called opportunity.

So it's your call.
You can stay in the third division,

or jump into the big league.

My uncle already rented a place.

Don't worry.

There's no rush.

Think it over.

If you decide to say no,
I promise I won't bother you again.

You have no fucking idea
what you're getting into.

I just want to try.

The fuck do you want to try?

Those people are sharks,
they'll eat you up before you know it.

Don't worry about this place.

If Marbella works out,
it'll be good for us.

It's your studio, Oskar.
I'm just here to help you.

And I'm just trying to be realistic.

Realistic?

Manuel, your savings
are only enough to get me started.

We'll have to ask for a loan later.

That's not what you said three days ago.

It's an opportunity, Manuel.
A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

You're letting yourself be dazzled
by the car, the chauffeur, the house...

She's willing to advance 200,000.

- And I have more than a million.
- I mean 200,000 dollars.

That's 32 million pesetas.

If you want to check any other room,

I'm okay with it. I'll give you a tour.

Damn.

Or, if you prefer, I can invite you
for a glass of wine in the living room.

My dad has an awesome wine cellar.

My family.

Look, that's my brother Hugo.

That's Tanya, and that's me.

I come from a very fucked-up place, Sara.

- I know.
- No, you don't.

I grew up in an orphanage.

Half the people I grew up with

are either dead or on their way.
Fucking drugs.

Why are you telling me this?

Because I want you to understand

that I want nothing to do
with any trouble, or fights,

or beatings or nothing like that, Sara.

I just want to get by.

- Do you understand?
- Perfectly.

Okay.

Then everything we do has to be legal.

Legal and transparent.

Everything my family does
is legal and transparent.

That's why we have this house.
White and with windows.

Because we're open.

Sometimes, even too much.

Anything else you want to clear up?

Will I bump into any other scares?

Well, I have a Glock pistol

- in my nightstand.
- Fuck.

- Just in case.
- Sure, okay.

Do you want to see it?

Is it real?

Of course.

Can I hold it?

Would you like a joint?

Sure.

Is it your first time holding a gun?

Yes.

- Do you know how to use it?
- Of course.

Dad used to take me to the shooting range.

Does it scare you?

No, it's not fear.

It's respect.

Ideally, people should respect you
without having to use it.

That's what my dad always says.

You're sure your family
is in Marbella, right?

The Farads don't bite, Oskar.

You can stay as long as you like.

Besides, we have a lot to talk about.

Such as?

Do we want a place near the sea?
The marketing agency to use...

Marketing agency?

It will be Marbella's first
aerobics studio.

It has to be fucking amazing.

Your life is about to change, Oskar.

Her parents hardly ever come to Madrid.

I'll be staying with her
while we prepare for Marbella.

You think this is a fairy tale, huh?
Like Cinderella.

You can stay in my apartment
for as long as you want.

If you're going to Marbella,
we should close up shop in Madrid.

Shit, Manuel.
The Marbella gym might not go well.

- But you want it to, right?
- Well, I want to try.

Just like you when you came to Madrid.

I didn't bail out on anyone.

Damn, Manuel, I'm not bailing out on you.

But we should ask your wife
what she thought when you left.

You're bringing up my wife?

- You left her there, didn't you?
- Yeah. With half my money,

and she wouldn't let me take anything.

You had every right to leave, Manuel.

- But let me exercise mine, damn it.
- What right?

The right to be wrong.

Well, go ahead. Be wrong.

I'll always remember what he said,
because it was a premonition.

But I couldn't listen.
I didn't see it coming.

I was still that kid
who liked firecrackers and foosball,

who didn't know a thing about politics

and thought that the world was
just what it seemed.

Because some lessons
can only be learned one way...

The hard way.

Where is Kamal?

- Tell me, bitch!
- Leave me alone!

Let me go, please.

Where is he?

You're making a mistake.
I don't know who you're talking about.

Where is he?

Let me go, fuck!

Where is Kamal? Tell me!

Tell me where he is!

I don't know who you mean,
I'm telling you.

I don't know him!

Tell me.

Bitch!

Where is my friend?

I said I don't know him.
Will you listen to me?

What have you done with him?

Tell me, bitch.

- Tell me.
- I don't know who you mean.

Tell me. Where is Kamal? Where is he?

Get away!

Freeze!

What did you do with the other one?

He fell down the stairwell.

Is he alive?

- I don't know.
- Go check.

Make sure.

- Is he breathing?
- I don't know.

- He's dead.
- Holy shit!

Do we call the police?

No.

What the fuck is happening, Sara?

They were looking for the other guy.

You said you let him go.

I have to call my dad.

He'll fix this.

Sara!

Who the hell are you people?