Original subtitles

NIGHT ACROSS THE STREET

Inspired by the novel by Hernén Del Solar

A pale sky above a crumbling world

could dissolve with the clouds.

”The rags of the washed-out purple of the setting sun

'Wade in a river which slumbers on the horizon

”submerged between brightness and water.”

"The setting sun."

"The washed-out purple of the setting sun."

Let's correct this translation.

In French if we say,

"The washed-out purple of the setting sun,"

it is surprising.

In Spanish, to say "setting sun" is also surprising,

but not in a good way.

And to say...

"The canvas house of one who shows us the past"

is what we call "a linguistic find."

But to say in Spanish

"the canvas house of the exhibitor of things past"

doesn't work.

It grates.

But why?

Sefior Villegas?

Sefior Alba?

Why, Sefior Martinez?

Does nobody have the answer?

I think it sounds good.

But it isn't any good, Sefior Olave.

Not at all. No, not at all.

In French we say "shadow puppeteer," isn't that right?

Sefior Martinez?

Close your eyes please.

Yes, sir, I'm sorry.

In Spanish one doesn't say "exhibitor of shadows."

When someone says "puppeteer of things past,"

they are referring to the past,

as though that past were a theater of shadows.

Isn't that so, Monsieur Villegas?

Yes, Monsieur Giono.

Let's play with that idea.

If we say,

"The magician who makes us see the shadows of things past,"

we're getting closer, aren't we?

Sefior Ribera?

Any ideas?

We'll continue on Friday.

Goodbye. See you Friday.

The Horseman on the Roof has just been published.

So I've heard. Is it a good edition?

Very good.

And a good translation.

So I've heard.

Congratulations.

Why me?

Because you are Jean Ghana.

The author of The Horseman on the Roof.

Aren't you?

Sometimes I get the impression

that I am.

Time seems

to stumble along here,

doesn't it, Giono?

Yes, you can almost touch it as it passes.

That's an image which obsesses me.

Time doesn't pass.

The hours don't follow one another.

They're like little balls.

What do you call them?

- Marbles. - Marbles.

Little balls of time.

But of stone or of crystal?

Strange question, "Marbles of stone or of crystal?"

Could one make a necklace out of these marbles of time?

Necklaces of years.

Ages of crystal.

Months of bronze.

Epochs of steel.

Could one play

with these marbles,

made, as you say, of time?

Once again I am out of my depth with your questions.

But time passes,

and I have to get back to the office.

See you on Friday, at 3:00 on the dot.

You see what I was telling you, boss?

Look.

Look how he's moving his hands.

He never used to do that.

I asked him why he was moving his hands.

"My hands?

"What hands," he said.

You see, boss.

As I was saying,

he had no idea why he was moving his hands.

I'm talking to you, Don Celso.

What?

What?

I asked you a question.

What do you think of a port without ships?

A port without ships?

Let me see.

A port without ships is like...

Like a whore without a lawyer,

like a lawyer without his Parker 51 pen,

or like a cyclist without nieces.

No. It's no good.

You've been utterly incoherent recently.

I have no more ideas.

I'm like

a port without sea gulls.

The seagulls have left me.

That's no good, Don Celso.

Now that you're about to retire,

what are you going to do?

A retired person needs ideas.

Without ideas

you'll lose your youth.

You'll be all alone.

I don't intend

to retire just yet.

It's Wednesday today.

You're going on Monday.

That's quite soon.

Monday turns into Tuesday,

then Wednesday.

Then it's nearly the end of the week,

so it's "see you next Monday,"

and so on forever.

For God's sake Don Celso.

We're having a leaving party for you tomorrow.

There's no way out.

What's done

is done.

Perfumed with aftershave.

Long John Silver.

Why Long John Silver?

That's what they called me

on the Hispaniola.

What's your name?

People call me Celso, but my real name is Rhododendron.

Rodo... What?

Rhododendron.

What's that?

My grandmother always said rhododendron.

So that must be my name.

But people call me Rodo. Like Rolo but with a

You can call me

Captain from now on.

Captain Long John Silver.

Look, that's my brig out there.

I can't see it.

Close your eyes and say "Black Spot" three times.

Black Spot,

Black Spot,

Black Spot.

That ship's from a film. I saw it last Sunday.

Nuts,

one kilo.

Nuts, one kilo.

Dried apricots.

Dried apricots.

- One kilo. - One kilo.

Raisins.

A quarter and a handful.

Raisins, a quarter.

Fifty stone marbles.

Fifty stone marbles.

Peoples' faces are like a landscape after an earthquake.

One Marseille soap.

I look at that face and say to myself, "I know that landscape.

"I've been there.

"I know that hill.

"That field was a good friend of mine."

Excuse me.

I once met someone like you.

In Paris. He was called Adamov.

Ad am 0v?

Doesn't mean anything to me.

He died.

That rings a bell.

He killed himself.

No, Sefmr Guano.

You can't kill yourself.

You lend yourself to death.

How can you do it yourself?

Death comes and it stays.

Where does death leave the marbles of time?

Yes, of course.

I'd forgotten about them.

And, even worse, I'd forgotten

that every marble

is a different size.

There's no...

There are no two moments

of the same size.

So how can you play marbles?

Ha! That was a joke!

Marbles? I don't know.

But you can play "follow the leader."

You've got me there.

Your turn. So, out of date.

Yes, Monsieur Giono... Out of date.

Cheers, then.

Cheers.

Tell me, Giono,

why didn't you change your name?

Guess.

If I were you,

if I wanted to disappear,

or to go as far away as possible,

I'd at least change my name.

To begin with I did.

I called myself Fabrice Rivaud.

Very nice.

Nice name.

Yes, but they caught up with me.

So you'd rather be called Jean Giono again.

Yes.

That way everyone knows,

but nobody believes it.

So they leave me alone.

When I retire I'm going to do the same thing.

I'll change my name.

I thought you were retired.

I've always been retired.

I haven't done anything for years.

I go to the office,

I sit down and wait.

Wait?

What are you waiting for?

For the man who's going to kill me.

I see. Actually, no, I don't see.

Neither do I.

It's just a turn of phrase.

Tell me, Don Celso,

who's your favorite historical figure?

Who's your favorite historical figure?

Ludwig van Beethoven.

Why?

Because he was misunderstood.

We had to be born so that he'd be recognized as a genius.

I don't like him.

Young people should like dance music.

You have to be old to like Beethoven.

Still, it's funny that a boy like you is interested in music like that.

Do you think they'll change the grade?

Depends. Hopefully the married men won.

The bachelors will have won. They're in better shape.

Beethoven was thoughtful.

He listened without saying a word.

They paved this road five years ago.

In two years, the hospital of Quilpue will be ready.

There are plans to open a medical school here.

To train the best doctors in Chile.

- Do you want to be a doctor? - Yes.

I wanted to be a pilot before, but there's more of a future in medicine.

Actually, I want to be like you.

Like me?

Yes, like you, but in medicine.

I'd like to be a musician as well.

A musician?

We musicians were put on this earth to suffer.

Hold that!

Nobody wants to listen to us, everybody laughs at what we do.

We die of hunger.

So, medicine, here you can make money out of medicine.

Have you seen Carlos?

No.

What do you mean, no? Who were you talking to?

- Beethoven. - Beethoven?

Of course, people call you Beethoven.

Hey, Beethoven!

- Who wrote The Italian Caprice? - Tchaikovsky.

- And The Italian Symphony? - Mendelssohn.

Congratulations, nearly everyone gets that one wrong.

You should enter the competition on the radio,

Quilpué needs a champion.

If you see Carlos tell him everyone's looking for him

and that he's in trouble at home.

Uproar.

Agitation.

The Symphonic Orchestra of Chile was beginning

the second movement of the Fifth,

Carlos Guerrero

appeared, gasping for breath.

They were arriving at Quilpué,

Pedro's heart was beginning to beat,

the moment of truth was approaching.

On the fishing and hunting pitch

the bachelors were playing a match against the married men,

the teachers of Quilpué against those of Villa Alemana.

He could see Sefior Belmar with his blue hat

and checkered shirt.

The first half was ending

and the bachelors had just scored

their second goal.

Hey.

Bring me a lamp, I can't see anything.

Please.

In the distance he saw Beethoven

crossing the pitch,

the breeze lifting his coat tails.

He seemed sad.

The game was finishing.

Celso gave a sigh of relief and said aloud,

"The dice have been thrown!“

He hesitated between two ways of going about things.

Sir,

I think the maths grade is unfair.

You haven't taken into account that in science,

I got a much higher grade

and that my low grade in maths was for psychological reasons.

Or...

I know that I deserve this low grade,

but my average will go down

and I won't pass.

Do you think that's fair,

just because on one occasion I didn't work hard enough?

My friends,

I've never minced my words.

Personally

I'd rather have dictatorship

than this bland conservatism.

I find it amazing that a person of your intelligence

could want a right-wing dictatorship for his country.

It's not right-wing, it's against all extremes.

I've had enough of this electoral circus.

There shouldn't be any more elections, like what Peron did.

Chile and Argentina could become one country.

The people have a right to their opinions, don't they?

Let's see whether lbafiez lets them.

Why wouldn't he, if the working class of Chile are going to vote for him?

It's about time that all those religious schools were shut down.

Throw out all those foreigners who are sucking Chile dry.

Especially the Yankees! Get rid of them all!

What idiots you are!

The Yankees freed us from the English.

Yes, but they also declared war against the Germans.

Why were they meddling?

It's the Yankees' fault that Hitler was defeated,

when he was only trying to do the best for his country.

That's what we need here, Don Carlos.

A Hitler to take everything back from the rich.

The Yankees won't allow it.

Well...

Cheers...

He felt the need to take out the bag with the little grains of gold

and look at it in front of everyone.

He waited a moment longer,

someone touched his arm,

it was Sefior Bitis,

the music teacher.

Hey! What did Saint Thomas say?

That depends, Saint Thomas said a lot of things.

But the most important thing was

"See that you may believe."

"See that you may believe," said Thomas Aquinas.

I don't believe in witches or in dictators.

That wasn't Thomas Aquinas,

that was Thomas the Apostle.

Isn't it the same person?

Of course not. There's several centuries separating them.

The players ran past and began playing.

He'd have to wait until the end.

He saw the bus arriving from Colliquay.

About 20 people got out

and began to sing.

They walked towards the town center.

Celso approached them.

Among them he saw Morales,

a student from Class 6 A.

Come with us, one of the brothers is being buried.

Who?

Brother Saldias died doing his duty.

Wasn't the fireman who died on Saturday Protestant?

Yes, he was.

Do you know the music?

It's a North American marching song.

Does it remind you of something?

Yes, it reminds me of the Dario Verdugo.

The procession of the Protestants and that coming from Quilpué

came together.

They walked towards the Belloto cemetery.

Beethoven walked between two women dressed in black.

Thoughtful,

he examined a battery he'd found on the pitch.

A third procession of firemen on bicycles,

carrying wreaths, had joined the procession.

In the distance a fourth procession

was arriving from Villa Alemana.

Do you know what that is?

It's a battery, for light.

Light?

HOW?

Inside there's electricity which is what makes light.

It also makes radios work, and washing machines...

Washing machines?

There's machines to dry clothes as well. There are machines for everything.

There's a machine which you can ask a question

and it'll reply.

You don't have to learn anything, the machines do everything.

Machines are going to take over mankind.

How sad...

Come here, Carlos!

Carlos ran past and jumped out of a window.

Just around the comer,

Gustavo appeared on his bike.

I'll get you!

Have you ever seen real gold?

Yes, my catholic aunt has stuff like that.

I've got some in my pocket.

Why?

Well, it's not forbidden. Do you want to see it?

Come here quickly!

Let's go!

Boy!

This is the son of the builder, Barra,

a great friend of mine and a fervent supporter of Alfonso!

Sit down, boy.

No, my friend, I don't believe in witches.

Love

belongs to human beings,

and isn't determined by creatures who come from other planets.

I won't allow you

to treat Jesus Christ as a Martian!

I'm not catholic

but I do respect Christ.

What I don't understand about that bean pole,

is how he managed

to stay so skinny, going from banquet to banquet.

And given what a hit he was with women,

how he could be such a prig!

You don't respect anything.

God will punish you one day!

He already has, by making me Chilean!

Don't you believe in the Chilean people?

No, I don't believe in nationalities.

I think that we're all the same,

free and sovereign individuals.

Which is why I reject communism and religion.

Let's see, what do you mean?

Here we go!

You can go now, boy,

these speeches get boring.

How long will the lunch last?

Until 5:00, 6:00, 7:00 or 8:00 at night.

Who does your family vote for?

Ibafiez, they all support lbafiez in my family.

Can you prove it?

Of course, when lbafiez gets to power, he'll make a clean sweep.

Aren't you afraid that your brothers will arrive?

No, they've gone to fetch me from Valparaiso.

Do you want to go to the cinema?

I found some money on my brother's bedside table.

What's on?

The Foxes of Harrow, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre

and The Boy with Green Hair.

No series?

No, not today.

Come with us.

You can see one of the great inventions of our age.

The cinema.

Theater?

No, cinema.

Come on.

Let's go, then.

How tall these people are!

They're projected onto a screen.

They're really just special shadows, that give out light.

What's the film about?

It's hard to explain.

Why do you come to the cinema if you don't even know anything

about the film you've just seen?

We came to have fun,

not to learn anything.

No!

No!

No!

On the way out he went to the club,

the lunch had finished

and there were only three drunken teachers left sleeping at a round table.

Where's Sefior Belmar?

They all left a while ago.

Weren't they going to leave at 8:00?

They left early.

Ibafiez for president!

A clean sweep!

My father's sleeping.

Never mind, this is life or death.

I'll get him, then.

I'm going to give the gold back.

Is it expensive?

Yes, it's all the gold of the whole term.

My father was given it to make the jewels for the Karmy House.

My father's getting up, you'll have to wait for him.

Thank you.

What are you doing?

I'm waiting for Sefior Belmar.

Have you ever heard of the naval battle of lquique, boy?

Yes,

and I know that this is the house in which Carlos Condell died.

That's what I like to hear.

It's very good when children respect their heroes.

Who discovered Chile?

That depends. Magallanes in 1520

or Diego de Almagro in 1536.

When?

Magallanes in 1520

or Diego de Almagro in 1536.

Good.

When was Santiago founded?

It's not known whether it was 1540 or 1541.

Better.

Do you know who wrote the opera La Juive?

No.

Who was it?

It must have been Verdi.

No, it was Halévy.

He's practically unknown.

So,

if you know so much,

who wrote the opera Marina?

Arrieta.

Incomplete answer.

Camprodbn

wrote the libretto.

What on earth's wrong, boy?

Sir,

I came to speak to you about a problem...

Because of the grade I gave you.

What grade would you have liked?

I'd have given you an even lower one if I could have.

It's high time for the champion

to take his maths classes seriously!

I was talking to your father yesterday,

he must be waiting for you.

A word of advice,

learn to face things like a man.

I don't like it when people are indecisive or beat about the bush.

That's good advice for your life.

Good night, boy.

Before you go,

tell me

who discovered penicillin?

Fleming.

What?

Fleming.

Don Otto ate some beans...

They must be waiting for you at home.

I know.

I did what I could.

...then he went out on this motorbike,

and the bike began to...

The motorbike farted!

That's a good one!

Show me your grades.

The first time this has ever happened in our family.

You've earned yourself a beating.

- But it wasn't my fault! - Fourteen strokes!

That's not fair.

Twenty four!

Let's go outside.

Come here!

Come here, I said!

I'm going to give you a good hiding!

One.

Get down!

Get down!

Get down from there!

If you don't get down I'll kill you.

I didn't raise my son to be a nazi.

Nazi!

But, Dad, if this goes on he'll become a bohemian.

Nazi!

L\\ \ \I~ I\ \> \ \ \> \ \ \

No.

I'll never forgive you.

It hurt me more than it hurt you.

That's not the point.

I worked so hard, I studied so hard and this is what I get!

I'll give you whatever you like.

Come down, my son,

come and eat.

Sit at the head of the table if you like.

No, I want to eat with the chickens.

No!

Not with the chickens!

They might have typhus.

I'll eat with the chickens or with no one.

Do as the boy says,

or I'll kill myself.

Half an hour later,

Celso was sitting at his desk

which had been placed in the middle of the chicken run.

The chickens had woken up and were running around clucking.

He had a radio next to him

and was listening to the Panorama program

with Juan Campbell and Emilio Filippi

about the discovery of the children lost in the snow.

Lost in the snow?

Yes, they were all found dead.

Poor people.

How are you, Sefiora Nigilda?

I heard your program Don Celso.

Is it true that Beethoven is your favorite historical character?

Among others.

So...

Like who else?

Listen to the program tomorrow.

Don't be silly, Don Celso.

Are you going to keep me guessing

until tomorrow?

Until tomorrow.

But

you're my favorite.

What a flatterer you are, Don Celso!

- Me. - You.

What do the cards say?

That I'm going to die.

I see death.

The death of a loved one.

What's a loved one?

Somebody you love very much.

Like my father, you mean?

For example.

A sudden death.

That's how he died. He's already dead.

He's buried over there.

What do you mean he's dead?

Yesterday you said

he wouldn't let you go to the island with me.

That's what he said. He died a time ago.

I never knew him,

but I dream about him and he forbids me to do things.

That must be your mother.

My mother died before he did.

He killed her.

But he was shot a while ago.

Why did he kill her?

He didn't like my brother.

The one with two heads. The bicephalous.

Are you awake?

Half.

I was having a siesta.

Forty winks, as they say where I'm from.

- Where are you from? -It doesn't matter.

Inland.

Everything matters.

What about you?

I'm Sefiora Nigilda's nephew.

Rolo Pedro Pedrez. Rolo Pedro.

Rolo Pedro.

Rolo Pedro. Rolo.

Rolodedro,

Rolo, Rolodendro,

Rhododendron...

You're a poet as well.

He has ideas. He makes us laugh.

Thank you, Nigilda.

Thank you.

Excuse me.

Three feet! Three feet between you!

- Can I bring in my luggage? - Of course.

Do you need help?

I always manage on my own.

I'm from inland as well.

From the desert.

A lot of wind there?

A lot.

That's why I like this boarding house,

it's so windy.

Sometimes, outside, there's not even a leaf moving on a tree,

while inside there's such a wind.

It's a frequent phenomenon in the north,

having a wind at home.

I make the most of it by playing marbles.

Do you like playing marbles?

I love it.

Let's play, then.

There must have been an earthquake somewhere.

Well,

I'm going to take up my luggage.

You know the house.

That's him.

That's who?

The man who's come to kill me.

He wouldn't hurt a fly.

He's a poet. Young Laurel. He's my nephew.

Has it been a long time since you last saw him?

A long time.

Actually I've never seen him before.

But I knew of his existence.

Well, sort of.

And he's come to kill me?

You and your ideas, Don Celso.

Who's going to kill you?

Him.

How do you know?

It's the sort of thing you know.

Or don't know.

Normally you only know later,

when it's too late.

I should put that in the next program.

He's the one who might get killed. There are people looking for him.

I am.

Why are you looking for him?

So that he kills me.

I'll put that in the next program as well.

But he'll be safe here.

He's come to hide here.

I'm going out for a walk.

Come for dinner, God willing.

I'll arrive late,

but I'll be there,

God willing.

Is that him?

That's him.

I'd imagined him to be different.

He won't be easy to kill.

Don't talk about it,

not yet.

Sorry that I didn't notice.

Rosina, at your service.

Rosina's a dancer.

At this time of day,

she goes to the cabaret and comes back at dawn.

I go to all the nightclubs in the north.

I dance

and then disappear in the blink of an eye.

That's how I am.

I'd never touch a man.

All talk and no play!

Don't believe her, Rolo Pedro.

She lies to calm the pain and the anger.

They all do.

I'm off.

See you at dawn.

Have a coffee and eggs waiting for me, how I like them,

scrambled and fried.

For God's sake,

I always get lumped with the hopeless cases.

Well,

as long as they pay.

And this one?

Him...

He's the one who never speaks.

You're the sort of person who's always on time.

And you're always early.

Antenor Figueroa.

Lieutenant Figueroa.

Did you bring the gun?

I did,

here it is.

- Are you that interested in the gun? - I am, yes,

I'd rather know.

I'd rather know which weapon I'm going to be killed with.

Why do you say that?

Nobody's going to kill you.

I have it in writing.

I wrote it.

The only one who's going to die is that weakling.

- Has he arrived yet? - Yes.

- What does he look like? - Young.

Nice.

And Nigilda?

Nice.

Does he know?

That they want to kill him?

I think so.

Good.

I'm no good at close range.

Tell me, Don Antenor,

is there anyone who doesn't want to kill someone?

Apparently. I know one person.

Myself.

You got me there.

I have to do it.

The opportunity presented itself.

I can't shirk my duty.

But as to actually enjoying it...

I came

to ask you a favor.

Don't do it, Don Antenor.

Gin, please.

I am late?

It's my destiny to wait.

In one low-life bar and gambling den after another.

Waiting and waiting.

My letters?

Did you get my letters?

Sometimes.

And,

what did you think?

I read them over and over again.

I learnt them by heart.

Then I burnt them. Always at midday.

With this magnifying glass.

There's always enough sun around here.

It's better that way.

Then there's no proof.

Proof of what's going to happen tomorrow,

or the day after.

Or what's already happened.

Don't do it, Don Antenor.

Look,

you see? Read it.

What?

Behind you.

DON'T DO IT ANTENOR

Who wrote that?

How did they know?

Everybody knows.

Everybody?

They just don't believe it.

Does Nigilda know?

But she believes it,

she must be the only one.

I don't know what's wrong with me recently.

I suddenly got the feeling that all this has happened already.

What with thinking about it so much,

I get the feeling that it's already happened

and that it went wrong.

It's all going to be fine, my darling.

"I hope for you

"that this ill-gotten money doesn't stain us,

"that it makes us happy and even happier.

"Together.

"Don't let it be the devil's money, or money easily lost."

That's what you wrote to me.

Well?

Haven't you got anything to say?

I was thinking that

in the letter I wrote to you,

and I'm glad that you burnt it, by the way

when I wrote you that letter,

I didn't know Nigilda.

I had no idea that in her boarding house

there was a retired man who'd received some money.

And that to kill him wouldn't cost anything.

Poor Don Celso.

That's how things are.

We can't change them now.

When?

Monday's a good day.

He knows.

He told me.

He told me. "You came to kill me," he said.

No,

he says the same thing to everyone who stays here.

He says they're going to kill him,

and when they leave, he shrugs his shoulders and sighs.

This time he's right.

He has his suspicions,

but who doesn't?

I have to go, I'm on at 12:00.

Let's see each other later.

I have a client.

I have Nigilda.

Do you have to?

Give and take.

She'll have to do the dirty work.

I couldn't hurt a fly.

She can do it.

And when she finds out?

We'll be far away.

What about him?

He'll be dead

and buried.

And if he follows us? If he comes back to take revenge?

- The dead can't bite. - Yes.

Excuse me, are you finished with the bust, Don Celso?

Yes, thank you.

Excuse me.

I'll leave you the menu.

He could be my uncle, couldn't he?

Yes.

My happiest moments of love

were with you

Which is why my heart regrets this sweet adieu...

DO IT

What will you think of me?

That I paid you.

And that I feel less lonely.

But full of hatred.

Do I make you hate?

No,

you're like an aspirin against the hatred.

What's this?

An army-issue gun.

Will you use it to kill?

The gun is in charge.

That's what they say.

The gun rules.

.And you? "Me?

I wash my hands of it.

Before you've even done it?

Painful events always precede me.

Shut up!

Just be quiet.

What?

Shut up and sing!

Sing?

At your command, my captain.

Who are you talking to?

To the voice coming out of the drain pipe.

They say that's what happens.

That when someone's about to kill,

the voice of the crime speaks out of the drain pipe.

What a disaster,

nobody's safe here.

Tormented in my misery

I think of you and see what you've been

Just a good woman

Your wild existence

brought warmth into my heart

You were always good to me I know that you loved me

like you loved nobody else

like you simply cannot love

A four-letter word.

"Love."

No, that's no good.

Don Celso,

do you walk?

I do.

Every day?

Every morning I come back to life and I walk.

How far?

As far as a sling shot.

That must be about a hundred meters.

As far as David's sling shot.

That must be a kilometer, at the most.

That's not far enough. You have to walk more.

A four-letter word?

"Adam."

- Or "damn." - No.

Walking makes you strong.

Well, that's life.

When

I go out to walk,

it's for a reason,

a good one.

I bet you go looking for adventures.

Have you finished with the bust, Don Celso?

Yes, thank you.

Excuse me.

I go out looking for words.

Looking for words? That's not bad,

but do you find them?

A few.

Once, not long ago,

I found a good one.

What's so good about that one?

Rhododendron.

Rhododendron? Not bad!

It's a shrub.

It's a fish.

I disagree.

It can't be a fish.

If anything, it's a horse.

Let's play at saying words.

I'll start.

Spring.

Statue.

Armor.

Violet.

Intrigue.

Ermine.

Rhododendron.

Card.

Marble.

I'm exhausted.

Rhododendron.

Be careful, it's got aftershave in it.

Thank you, boss.

That reminds me of a sonnet I learnt at school,

"Do not let words decide

"what path a poem takes.

"Let words

"fool themes whose flight

"takes them far.

"Take the word 'cockle' and shake it,

"and a dance will drizzle from it.

"Cockle, cockled,

"cuckolded crustacean,

"butterflies of uncertainty.

"And if such capricious forms are forced on you,

"lock them up. Black spots of arduous rhymes

"which rhyming, only lie.

"Judicious pleonasms or mottos

"which have light-filled lives

"and dark deaths."

That's the spirit!

We all have to die someday!

A slow death.

When you love me

When I see you smile

the bells will ring

and the butterflies will unfurl

their many-colored wings

When you love me

When you say yes...

You?

You startled me.

I was waiting for you.

Are you staying for dinner?

No,

I'm eating out today.

Can I come in?

But...

Thank you.

A four letter-word.

"Wait."

So this is your room?

I've imagined it so many times,

that I just couldn't wait any longer.

But...

Wait! That's Rhododendron,

he's a fish made out of wood,

but he's laughing.

And these are your famous ships.

They're beautiful.

I did so want you to show them to me.

They're all different...

I have to go.

And...

Can I stay here?

With the ships?

I promise I won't touch anything.

That's all I needed.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Kiss!

That's the word I was looking for.

Kiss, four letters!

Do you live alone here?

No, with my uncle.

Then,

he's the one who's going to die.

No, he's also dead.

When did he die?

Yesterday. He hanged himself.

He's still hanging there.

He was mad, so he hanged himself.

Do you have any family?

No.

Tomorrow I'm being sent to a boarding school in Santiago.

I'll probably die there.

Who knows.

Sudden death.

Rhododendron.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen,

Don Celso is leaving us.

He's leaving us.

Well, he's never stopped leaving us,

despite which, he's been here.

Faithful as a bee.

Loyal as an ant.

Watchful as a hawk.

Although here in body he gazes at the horizon,

and sees goodness knows what.

Sailing boats.

Seagulls.

Clouds.

Don Celso is a hard worker.

He is unique in his ability to work and relax simultaneously,

and I'm sure he will have a long life.

The many days of leisure awaiting him will be productive.

I don't know whether you've noticed,

but the head of this department, that's me, by the way,

the head of this department

has noticed how Don Celso's hands

busy themselves

with tasks for the future.

Long term tasks.

Our immobile voyager

is lifting anchor and setting sail.

We all wish him a happyjourney.

And an even happier time when he arrives.

I know that many busy years of doing nothing

await him.

I wish him the best of luck for this journey

from which he won't come back,

and I hope that this journey

will be an easy one.

Don Celso,

bon voyage!

Don Celso, so that your words aren't lost

or blown away on the wind,

I have a surprise for you.

Our star typist, Laurita Petrafie,

has offered

to type up your words,

the words of an active and modest man.

Ladies and gentlemen,

my life companions.

The stormy sea

and the lucky mermaids with their unintelligible songs

are the witnesses

to the departure of he who addresses you.

His is a sad and discrete setting of sails.

The sails of the golden ship which carries me.

The dark ship with the golden hull.

The gloomy sailors hurry

about their gloomy tasks.

The wind accompanies us.

You ask,

"What is the name of the ship?"

l'lltellyou.

Rhododendron, The Brig.

- Rodo... What? - Rhododendron!

The name of a flower,

of the brig,

and above all,

the name of a cowardly killer.

It's the name

of the fecund terminator,

of the monstrous friend

who seeks and will kill me.

Has he gone mad?

In the name of Rhododendron, thank you,

and I offer up

my ashes,

which come from the pure stock of a sleepy family.

Long live Mallarmé!

Viva!

Our firm has the tradition

of offering its colleagues

who are retiring to a well-deserved rest after years of work,

a present, a token, a souvenir.

- Don Gural, if you please. - Thank you, boss.

Excuse me, Don Celso.

Don Celso, our gift to you.

Water on my land

flows clean and serene

Water on my land

flows clean and serene

My girl looks at her eyes in the water

which flows clean and serene

Come in, come in.

Come in, come in.

Stop!

To the right.

Good.

Stop! To the left.

Very good...

Keep going, keep going.

Stop.

That's it.

Keep going.

Advise me, oh, dream of mine.

What should I do?

How can {summarize in one glance the virginal absence,

dispersed in this solitude?

"The orphan roamed in the darkness,

"with his sight deprived of family."

Sight, not eyes.

"Vacant" does not mean "empty"

but rather "deprived of."

Don't you agree, Sefior Uliseya?

I'm sorry?

Go on, Calixta Pereira, go head.

Who was Mallarmé? I mean, what was he like as a person?

What was he like?

He was a teacher.

He taught English in a school.

But above all,

he was what he said he was.

Both a nomad and immobile.

Above all

he was a sad

and spiritual man.

Limagine him

rather like this gentleman here.

Like my friend Don Celso.

Antofagasta.

That word is a treasure.

It's hard to believe.

I'm here because of the name.

Antofagasta.

As soon as I heard that there was a city with that name,

I packed my bags

and said to my family,

"We're off to Antofagasta tomorrow."

My daughter went to the library,

she came back and said,

"I know everything about Antofagasta

"and there's nothing there."

So I said, "All the more reason to go there."

And the luggage?

It stayed there. In Manosque.

And

your family?

They're still there.

To tell you the truth,

I must be there myself.

Somebody has to write all those books that they attribute to me.

I liked A King Without Distraction.

It's a terrible translation.

It should be

"The King

"who had nothing to entertain him."

Good evening, Don Celso.

Good evening to you, too,

cyclist Ugalde.

How can I amuse you?

How is your niece Alicia?

She passed her literature exams,

top marks.

How about your niece?

She drowned during the holidays.

I'm so sorry.

But tell me, Don Celso,

what do you think

of those new buildings?

What's your impression?

Any criticism?

What buildings are you talking about? I can't see any.

What, you can't see them!

Now you can.

No, no.

One day those buildings might appear,

but for the time being they don't exist.

Then why can I see them?

For the same reason.

What about now?

No.

Whatever you say, Don Celso.

So there are no buildings in Antofagasta.

Be patient,

they'll come.

It's you!

Me?

Who are you looking for?

I'm looking for Nigilda, aren't I?

I don't think so.

If she were here, that would be the last straw, wouldn't it?

Wouldn't it!

- What about Rolo? - Rhododendron?

He hasn't arrived yet.

I'm waiting for him.

He has to kill me today.

So you're waiting for him.

Of course. As I do every evening.

Really?

- What do you intend to do? - Do?

What one calls "doing"?

No. It's already done.

- More than done. - What about me?

Just carry on waiting.

I'm off.

Everyone's gone out.

There's only me left.

That is, if I'm here.

See you later!

God willing!

He is!

Good evening.

Are you leaving?

Tell me

when the money runs out.

So, you're staying.

I thought you'd gone out.

I did, too.

But

here you are.

Here I am.

Oh, Mary

Stop singing

Oh, Mary

It's time to cry

Still in love.

Yes.

More than ever.

You don't know how lucky you are.

Luck?

More like a curse.

I thought you were happy with your secret lovers.

Even you.

Even me.

That's how it is.

Everyone knew that I was in love.

Everyone except me.

There's even a song about it.

Everyone Except Me.

Passion is like that.

Real passion.

It's born inside and grows until everyone can see it

except for oneself.

What about mirrors?

Mirrors make me laugh.

They always lie.

No, Nigilda.

Mirrors don't lie.

It's the light that tricks us.

For better

or for worse.

Tonight

is St. John's Eve.

What difference does that make?

Tonight mirrors show us whatever they like.

Look in the mirror.

I can't see myself.

That's the way it is.

That's the way it is?

That's not me.

I've seen him before somewhere.

That's the way it is.

What do you see?

I can't see anything.

But I'm looking at myself.

Why is there so much blood?

It's a bit much, isn't it?

Far too much.

Far too much for one bullet wound.

Isn't it?

What's happening in this house?

Isn't it?

It's too much,

far too much...

Here I am.

You. Here?

So many years have gone by.

Far too many.

You said it.

And...

What can I offer you?

They say that you make ships in glass bottles.

Is that true?

It is.

I need one.

What for?

That's where I live.

In a bottle?

On aship.

The one I had broken.

How did it break?

A bullet.

The same bullet that killed Dofia Nigilda

ended up in my bottle.

Nigilda was killed by a gun?

"The first was for her, the second for him

"and the third for me."

That's the song of the two brothers of the sea-shore.

I like sailing ships.

People can travel in them.

That's what they're for.

I don't need to travel anymore.

Thank goodness, don't you think?

If you say so.

Aren't you dancing tonight?

No.

The bar's closed.

Until further notice.

Because of that crime.

That crime...

It was bound to happen sooner or later. Wasn't it?

But I feel good here.

Can I stay?

Stay for as long as you like.

Thank you.

I wish everyone were like you.

Right...

I'm going to sleep.

Dream about us.

Thank you.

Don't want a tomb, a cross flowers or tears

Don't cry for me

Don't pray for me

AH I want is that when I die

My body is thrown into the sea...

So, that massacre at the cursed boarding house...

My house?

Call it what you like.

Idle gossip,

that's all.

Nobody's killed anybody.

Don't believe the papers.

So nobody was killed

in the cursed boarding house?

They moved, that's all.

They moved on to the next world.

To where those buildings are that you say exist.

The ideas you have!

Do you intend to go?

Or will you stay in the haunted house?

I'd rather be alone than surrounded by fools.

Monsieur Giana'?

Are you there?

Are you there?

Show yourself.

Monsieur Giono!

I was your student.

Show yourself!

Tonight

my favorite historical character

will be Long John Silver.

Nobody knows it

but the famous and cruel Captain Silver,

the pirate,

was a fantastic story-teller

and told me many stories.

Captain...

What?

Why are you angry with me?

Because you don't listen to me.

Because you're afraid of leaving.

And you're afraid of staying.

I promise it won't happen again.

Really?

Do you really mean that?

Yes, I promise.

Swear by the two brothers of the sea-shore.

I swear by the brothers of the sea-shore.

Over there.

Once upon a time, a long time ago,

I told you a story.

Do you remember?

Yes, Captain.

What was the story about?

A man who was retired, who died, or got killed, something like that.

What do you mean, something like that?

The old man had some money hidden away

and someone came to kill him.

He looked everywhere but couldn't find him

because the old man had gone out.

Are you sure he'd gone out?

I think so,

but I'm not sure.

Carry on,

let's see how what you make of this one.

I don't know.

You don't know?

Neither do I.

The man who came to kill him disappeared

and left the pistol on the dining room table.

Did that happen, or did it seem to happen?

I can't remember.

- Or, I don't want to know. - Go on.

Rhododendron.

Rhododendron. Here you are.

Where were you?

Where did you go, Rhododendron?

But you're back now.

Here I am.

Good.

What do I have to do?

Close your eyes.

That's all?

That's all. Close your eyes.

But anyone

can do that.

Well, close them, then.

How strange!

I can't.

You see that it isn't that easy?

It isn't that easy.

Let me help you.

Say the magic word.

Rhododendron.

How's life?

Well, I've just killed myself.

Really?

That's incredible!

It was my time to go.

Life is lent to us, that's all.

We simply follow the leader.

No, Don Celso, I'm in the lead.

I got knocked over by a bus in Santiago.

That must have been a long time ago.

Time is like gusts of wind,

like windmills, Don Celso.

What about your niece?

She got knocked over by a bus.

One tragedy after another.

And the radio?

What radio?

Didn't you used to work at the radio?

No, Don Celso, it hasn't been invented yet.

- This takes some getting used to. - You said it.

Fresh bread, fresh bread...

Fresh bread, fresh bread...

Where are they off to in such a hurry?

They don't exist, they're from around here.

They live here?

They're the memories of the pistol,

or rather, of the barrel.

Speaking of which,

is there a good bar for a shot of whiskey?

The things you come up with, Don Celso.

There aren't any bars here.

A pistol doesn't drink?

But it likes chili peppers and sunflowers.

That's where we're headed for,

into the sun.

Have a good journey.

They killed me.

I killed myself.

I was going to the boarding house. To warn you.

I got there too late.

So what shall we do, then?

Let's go back to the boarding house.

Why?

Because that's where we're from.

True,

that's where we're from.

Spirit...

Are you there?

Show yourself.

What was that?

Aseagull.

What was that?

A dog barking at the owls.

There they are!

Are they there?

There's no point. They're not coming.

Somebody touched me.

Sweetheart...

What was that?

A cat on the roof.

Come on,

they're calling us.

Where are they going?

I don't know.

Into the coming night,

where the others are waiting for them.

Are they alive or dead?

They're more dead than we are.

That's a good one!

What was that?

Mice.

No,

frogs.

No.

It's the living who are calling us.

They say distance makes you forget

Let's go, we don't want to make them wait.

I don't believe a word of it

I'll always be a captive

Let them run, let them run,

don't anybody help them!

Let them come, let them come,

don't anybody stop them.

Let them run, let them run,

don't anybody save them.

That's impossible!

What are they doing here?

Are they who I think they are?

They seem to be.

Beethoven and friends.

The very same?

I imagined them to be quite different.

Beethoven doesn't look at all like,

that bust with his name on it.

This must be the famous Jean Giono,

the one our poor Don Celso

was always talking about.

I knew Long John Silver in the Peneca.

Who do they think they are?

I invented them,

I created them,

and now they have the nerve to do as they please

and act however they want.

Is this what it's come to?

Don't let it upset you, Don Celso. That's how people are these days.

There's no respect anymore.

Are they the ones calling us?

Good God, better to just laugh.

Are you there?

Show yourselves.

No, they won't come.

I can feel them.

I feel them calling to us.

I do, too.

Let's go, before it's too late.

Too late for what?

It's about time!

Welcome!

Better late than never.

I knew they'd come, boss, which is why I took the liberty

of preparing a speech,

which goes

like this.

Dear victims of fate and destiny.

Those born to fate cannot escape destiny.

It was our destiny

to wander the ghostly docks of the northern regions.

It was our fate

to enjoy this destiny.

But one of us

assumed this fate from the beginning.

He waited for it,

dreamt of it,

called to it.

This bullet

represents that fate.

This bullet,

this swift instrument

of diligent speed,

this instant remedy for all evil,

and more importantly,

for all good.

This bullet,

I say again and again,

is an epiphany from the depths,

a lyrical fife,

a ferocious drug,

an insatiable devourer.

This bullet

is the crouching toad

who opens the door

to the encroaching night,

and who now swears before us all.

Bullet,

you slim warning of death,

you alone

deserve to wear its coat of arms and be its standard-bearer.

You alone

deserve the shadows.

And...

I've lost my train of thought.

Well...

You get my drift.

Excellent speech, Don Gural.

Our deceased would have appreciated it.

Thank you.

L---

I prepared a few words as well.

Please...

Regale us with your sweet words.

As you know,

my daily life is punctuated

by a typewriter called Magnolia.

As you know,

Magnolias

love Rhododendrons.

Our now-deceased beloved

was Rhododendron.

And I became Magnolia.

Don Celso

was

and always will be

my only love.

That's all.

It wasn't much.

But they say that the dregs of the mat, cup never tastes of much.

Speaking of mat,

here is this silver cup.

This cup

which was the pride and joy of our Celso Barra,

inspired me

to write a song.

Old cup, the galley slave of love

venerated reliquary of ideals

You are the mystery of flowers in bloom

old cup, galley slave of love

Your bulb is the ideal flower

where the bees suck love

Serving as an attentive tie

for the two souls united in a kiss

Old silver cup

venerated reliquary

Cut!

Subtitles: Miriam Heard

Sous-titrage: L.V.T. -Paris