All language subtitles for Genius.2017.S02E02.720p.HDTV.x264-CRAVERS_track3_eng

PICASSO:
Previously on Genius...

PABLO: I want to do
something original. Unique!

PALLARÉS: You could paint
your perfect painting, Pablo.

PICASSO: These
paintings, they were the
best work I've ever done.

I've had my work
destroyed before.

ROSENBERG: And the
Nazis have labeled every
bit of it as degenerate.

SALVADOR: It is
extraordinary, Pablo.

PABLITO: It's a gift, Uncle.

To thank you for everything
you've done for me.

I made to vow to God that
if he let Conchita live
I would give up painting.

God knew I could
never keep my promise.

So, he punished me.
He took her.

PICASSO: The roses
are exquisite, Hervé.

HERVE: Thank you, Monsieur.

PICASSO: There are thorns. Be
careful.

DORA: Never.

MARIE-THERESE: Who
is this woman, Pablo?

DORA: I am Dora Maar. And
you must be Marie-Thérèse.

(growls).

PICASSO: I will never
be bored by you.

CARLES: My name
is Carles Casagemas.

What is yours?

PABLO: Picasso.

CARLES: Picasso and
I, we are the future.

EMILE: I don't understand
you, Francoise.

FRANCOISE: I want
to be a painter.

EMILE: You will
become a lawyer.

Do I make myself clear?

SERT: Franco and his
fanatics are winning the war.

Franco has Hitler and the
Nazis on his side, Pablo.

We need you on ours.

DORA: I know you didn't
want to make a painting
for the Spanish Pavilion,

but now you must.

PICASSO: I am going to
need a very big canvas.

ROSENBERG: I'm getting
my family to safety.

Guernica made the
Nazis very angry.

You have children.
Women you love.

Some things are more
important than art.

PICASSO: Not to me.

(theme music playing).

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

(explosion)

(explosion)

(explosion)

MADELEINE: Francoise?

FRANCOISE: Momma?

MADELEINE: The Germans
have crossed the border.

We must hurry.

Your father is waiting for us
at the harbor in Saint-Malo.

-Oh!

(inaudible crowd noise).

FRANCOISE: Papa!

EMILE: Francoise.

Madeleine. Thank God.

FRANCOISE: Where
are they all going?

EMILE: The Germans
have closed the harbor.

MADELEINE: So we could've
been in England days ago?

But no, you insisted
Francoise take this stupid
exam, and now we're prisoners?

EMILE: We are not prisoners.
We are French citizens.

MADELEINE: Yes.
With Nazi monsters.

¶ ¶

(speaking in German).

(phone ringing)

MARCEL: That was Hervé,
calling from Tremblay.

German troops have
commandeered the house.

PICASSO: Bastards.

They think they can just
take whatever they want.

MARCEL: They do
have guns and tanks.

And it could have
been much worse.

Maya and Marie-Thérèse
could have been there.

PICASSO: Get the car.

MARCEL: Pablo, it's 300 miles.

PICASSO: Then we
better get on the road.

MARCEL: And what are you
going to do when we get there?

Ask the Nazis politely to
give you back your house.

PICASSO: I don't
care about the house.

MARCEL: Then what?

PICASSO: We are
gonna steal my art.

(gunshots)

(speaking in German)

¶ ¶

PICASSO: Put as much
as you can in the car.

The rest in Hervé's truck.

Hurry!

You should've
seen it, my love.

We were a band of gypsies,
picking the Nazis clean.

DORA: What if
you'd been caught?

PICASSO: Oh, impossible.

No, my African masks protect
me against all evil spirits.

DORA: This isn't a joke, Pablo.
They might have killed you.

PICASSO: But
they didn't. Did they?

DORA: So you saved
your paintings?

Now, we should go.

PICASSO: Go? Where?

DORA: To America.
It's too dangerous here.

PICASSO: Huh.

So, when the fascists were
far away in Spain, y-you
wanted to fight them.

You wanted me to
paint Guernica.

And now that they are
on our doorstep, y-y-you
just want to run away?

¶ ¶

Take it. Go on.

Play that game you played
the night we first met.

Spread your fingers apart and
drive the blade between them.

DORA: Pablo, please...

PICASSO: Even when you
missed and drew blood,
you didn't flinch.

DORA: I was drunk.

PICASSO: You were fearless.

You do what you want.

But I am going back to Paris.

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

PABLO: Come with me, Carles.

Show Manach some of your work.

Nonell says he has a
soft spot for Spaniards.

CARLES: Mmm.
Well, you be the picador.

Soften up the bull.

And when you've weakened him,
I'll come in for the kill.

I will get it.

You're onto something,
and clearly I am not.

(knocking)

PALLARÉS: Oh, uh, I'm looking
for Pablo.

CARLES: You must be Pallarés.

I see you've found our tailor.

PABLO: Manuel, I'm so
glad you're finally here.

PALLARÉS: Where were you?

You were supposed to
meet me at the station?

PABLO: Ah, I lost
track of the time.

PALLARÉS: I can see why.

CARLES: Pallarés,
say hello to Odette.

(speaking in French).

Antoinette?

ANTOINETTE: Lovely
to meet you.

CARLES: And Germaine.

GERMAINE: We'll make coffee.

PABLO: Friends of Nonell's.

PALLARÉS: Mm.

PABLO: They were
here when we arrived.

CARLES: We didn't think it was
polite to ask them to leave.

PALLARÉS: No, of course not.

CARLES: Since Pablo
prefers Odette, I'll have
to satisfy the other two.

But I suppose I could
find it in my heart to
lend you Antoinette.

PALLARÉS: Is he serious?

PABLO: Welcome to Paris.

What do you think?

MANACH: Spanish painters
are as common as
mud in Paris these days.

PABLO: Very well, then.

I will find someone who
likes the common touch.

MANACH: I'll take
three on consignment.

See what I can do.
No promises.

BERTHE: I'll give
you 100 francs.

For all three of them.

MANACH: Hmm, I
don't know, Berte.

Young Spaniards are all
the rage these days.

BERTHE: If you had
another buyer, you would
not have come to me.

Now tell me, what is he like?

This, Picasso.

MANACH: Small. Intense.

And exclusive to me, in
case you're wondering.

It wasn't easy.

But I managed to
sell all three.

PABLO: Quite an achievement.

Considering Spaniards
are as common as mud.

MANACH: After my expenses
and commission, you've
earned yourself 50 francs.

Or, I could give you
150 francs every month.

In return, I own
everything you produce.

PABLO: Everything?

MANACH: You keep
the stipend whether I
sell the work or not.

The risk is entirely mine.

This is the way the art
business is conducted
in Paris, Picasso.

Ask around, it's
more than fair.

PABLO: Can you pay in advance?

CARLES: To Picasso!

GROUP: To Picasso! Picasso.

PALLARÉS: Let's dance.

(laughter, inaudible chatter).

CARLES: I am in
love with Germaine.

PABLO: You're drunk.

CARLES: True. But I'm
also quite serious.

I can't paint, I can't sleep.

I want to marry her.

PABLO: Carles, we are
not in Spain anymore.

You don't have to
marry a woman or pay
her to get her to...

CARLES: I haven't,
gotten her to,

I know, I know,
I've-I've boasted,

but the studio's
always so crowded.

W-We're never alone.

PABLO: There's no one
at the studio now.

(moans).

GERMAINE: I can't
wait anymore.

CARLES: I can't.

GERMAINE: Mmm.

CARLES: I...

GERMAINE: I'll help you, okay.

CARLES: I, I,
I, I, I mean,

I, I, I can't.

¶ ¶

GERMAINE: Carles...

CARLES: I'm sorry...

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

ARTHUR: It's so alive.

I can almost smell the
smoke, and the perfume.

BERTHE: Didn't I
tell you, Arthur?

He is one of the most
exciting young artists
working in Paris today.

ARTHUR: How much?

BERTHE: 250.

MANACH: Arthur Huc is one
of the most influential
collectors in Paris,

and he thought
your painting could have
been a Degas or Lautrec.

You're getting noticed.

PABLO: Yes.

For copying the styles
of other painters.

MANACH: It's what
sells and I need more.

Don't be so gloomy, Pablo.

You're going to be famous.

PABLO: What about Casagemas?

Have you seen his
watercolor of Germaine?

CARLES: It's-It's, uh...

PABLO: Show him, Carles.

CARLES: Mm-hmm.

MANACH: I'm sure it's
charming, but I need more
paintings from you, Pablo.

Work up some more
dancehall scenes.

ROZSDA: I see you're
an admirer of Matisse.

FRANCOISE: You think
it's derivative.

Maybe my father was right.

ROZSDA: About what?

FRANCOISE: He wants
me to be a lawyer.

What's the point of
that if there's no law
in the world anymore?

ROZSDA: Well, I can
teach you what I know.

The first thing is, there is
no shame in being derivative
when you're starting out.

Your friend Matisse
is the best.

For color.

But if you want to
learn how to draw line,
you must study Picasso.

PICASSO: Sabartés, I thought
you were going to find me
some bronze for my sculptures.

SABARTÉS: It seems the Nazis
have confiscated it all
to make their shiny bullets.

PICASSO: So, I suppose
you couldn't find me
any cadmium red either.

'Cause they need it
to paint swastikas.

SABARTÉS: No one forced
you to stay in Paris.

PICASSO: I would go back
to Spain if that fascist
pig wasn't in charge.

To see Pallarés in Horta.

That was the last time in
my life I felt truly free.

(banging on door)

(banging on door)

-Good evening.
Is Herr Picasso at home?

PICASSO: You be
careful with that.

-Is Herr Rosenberg
staying here?

PICASSO: No.

-Herr Goldstein, perhaps?

PICASSO: I told you last time.

And the time before.

Here there is only Picasso.

-So then, you did this?

PICASSO: No. You did.

-You know what,
Picasso, we have been
very gracious to you.

But we could take away
everything in this room.

And everyone.

PICASSO: I am told
your General Muller
is an admirer of mine.

Go ahead. Take me.

You see what happens when he
finds out you arrested the
most famous artist in the world.

Perhaps it is you
who will disappear.

(speaking in German).

-Until next time,
Herr Picasso.

GERMAINE: It's lovely.

CARLES: It's not
as lovely as you.

GERMAINE: You're so silly.

CARLES: Why? Because
I'm in love with you.

Then I happily declare
I am the silliest
man in all of Paris!

GERMAINE: Carles, don't!

CARLES: I'm going to
buy you that necklace.

GERMAINE: With what?

You haven't got a single
centime to your name.

CARLES: I'll sell
my paintings.

The clothes off my back.

GERMAINE: I have to go.

CARLES: Germaine,
Germaine, wait, wait. Wait.

I thought we were
spending the day together.

GERMAINE: I'm meeting someone.

CARLES: Who?

GERMAINE: Carles,
you're very sweet...

CARLES: Who?

GERMAINE: But I
don't answer to you.

PABLO: I'm worried about you.

When was the last time
you picked up a brush?

CARLES: I can't paint.

Not until I know
Germaine is mine.

Lend me some money, Pablo.

PABLO: For what?

CARLES: There is a
necklace that she admired.

PABLO: Carles.

CARLES: Please,
Pablo, please. Please.

PABLO: Carles.

CARLES: Pablo, please.

¶ ¶

PABLO: Buy some
paints instead.

CARLES: Thank you.
I will pay you back. I will.

MANACH: Trust me, Madam.

Picasso here is the
most exciting young
painter in Paris.

A portrait by him will make
you the envy of your friends.

-Can he paint me in
the style of Renoir?

MANACH: Picasso can paint
in any style you want.

Renoir, Lautrec, Degas...

-Very well then.

As long as he makes
me look pretty.

PABLO: I am sorry, Madam.

But I'm not nearly
talented enough to do that.

MANACH: Pablo!

Pablo! Pablo!
Empty your pockets.

PABLO: What?

MANACH: How much do you have
left of your stipend after
feeding and housing all those

bloodsucking friends of yours?

PABLO: I didn't come to Paris
to paint dancehall scenes.

And fat cows in
the style of Renoir.

MANACH: You need to eat.

And to eat, you need
to paint a few cows.

PALLARÉS: Hey, save
some for the rest of us.

(laughing).

PABLO: Hm. Ah!

Behold, the
incomparable Casagemas.

PABLO: Carles...

CARLES: I bought
you something.

ANTOINETTE: I heard a
rumor about you, Carles.

That you put your brush
down and now you cannot
pick it up again.

CARLES: Well,
go ahead. Open it.

GERMAINE: I can't
accept this, Carles.

CARLES: Why not?

GERMAINE: Because I'm
not in love with you.

CARLES: I can
change your mind.

GERMAINE: No, you can't.

PABLO: Carles.

CARLES: Yes...

PABLO: Carles,
relax. Have a drink.

CARLES: It's the
necklace you admired.

Please just let
me put it on you.

GERMAINE: No,
Carles. No, no.

CARLES: Please.
Why? Why not?

GERMAINE: Because you
cannot satisfy me.

(laughter)

I'm sorry, Carles.
I'm sorry.

ODETTE: Oh.

PABLO: Carles,
wait. Carles wait!

¶ ¶

(singing in French over radio)

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

CARLES: Do you know where
I can find something
a little stronger?

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

-I heard a rumor about you,
Carles, put your brush down,

and now you cannot
pick it up again.

GERMAINE: I'm not
in love with you.

Because you cannot satisfy me.

(moans).

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

DORA: Do I actually
disgust you that much?

¶ ¶

CARLES: You should have
forgotten about me, Pablo.

PABLO: You need a warm bath
and a strong pot of coffee.

That's all.

CARLES: You think
that's going to fix me?

PABLO: Carles.

CARLES: I can't
pay you what I owe.

PABLO: Forget it.

CARLES: I can't paint.

I-I can't satisfy
the woman I love.

What am I going to do, Pablo?

What am I going to do?

PALLARÉS: He'll be
fine once he sobers up.

PABLO: He can't stay here.

He won't survive it.

PALLARÉS: So?
Cable his parents.

They will put him on a train.

PABLO: Look at him, Manuel.
He can't travel by himself.

PALLARÉS: You can't leave now.

Not when you're having
so much success.

PABLO: Painting portraits
of society ladies.

Imitating other artists.

PALLARÉS: So?
Do something different.

PABLO: It's not that simple!

PALLARÉS: It is!
Remember Horta?

You weren't just copying
some fancy French painters.

PABLO: Because I'd
never seen any.

PALLARÉS: Exactly. So you
were painting what you saw.

And what you felt.

So go back to doing that.
Something original.

PABLO: I don't know,

I don't know if I can.

PALLARÉS: So are you leaving
now to help Casagemas?

Or are you leaving because
you are afraid that you can't
paint your perfect painting?

¶ ¶

PABLO: I need to
finish packing.

PALLARÉS: At least
you'll finish something.

-Tell us about Paris, Pablito.

It must have been so exciting.

PABLO: A feast for
the eyes, auntie.

-You were a great
success, I suppose? Hm?

PABLO: I sold quite
a few paintings.

-Oh, how wonderful.
-Look who has come, Salvador.
All the way from Paris.

PABLO: Happy New Year, Uncle.
Ah.

This is my friend,
Carles Casagemas.

He's also a painter.

CARLES: It's an honor, señor.

PABLO: After the-the
noise and glare of Paris,

we thought a few weeks by the
sea could do us some good.

SALVADOR: If you're going
to stay in my house, you're
going to need a haircut.

And a shave.

PABLO: Of course, Uncle.

Uh, but, after paying
for the journey, we're
a little short of funds.

SALVADOR: Buy yourself a
respectable suit as well.

CARLES: Charming
fellow, your uncle.

PABLO: To hell with him.
And the barber.

I like our hair the way it is.

CARLES: So, what are we going
to do with all that money?

PABLO: I have an idea.

I need you to take
special care of my friend.

He's just had
his heart broken.

-Whoever she is, I'll
make you forget her.

CARLES: Don't, don't...

don't waste your time.

Hey.

PABLO: Well?

CARLES: Well, you
were right, my friend.

Much more enjoyable
than a haircut.

-Show your ration card!
Only one loaf, today!

MARIE-THERESE: So what would
you like for dinner tonight?

Maybe some cheese
with some soup.

What is it, darling?

Come on.
Come on, cherie.

(rope stretching)

(speaking in German)

¶ ¶

PICASSO: Well, that should
be enough coal to last
until the end of the week.

I'm sorry I couldn't
come sooner but with
the curfew and...

MARIE-THERESE: It's all right.

PICASSO: Yeah.

MARIE-THERESE: We've
just missed you.

Haven't we, Maya?

PICASSO: And for you,
princesa, a special treat.

MARIE-THERESE: Pablo.

She, she saw two dead
resistance fighters today.

Hanging from ropes.

PICASSO: Huh.
You have a pair of scissors?

MARIE-THERESE: Uh, yes.

PICASSO: Yeah, ah!
You did it!

Look. Pretty.
Isn't she?

Oh, you should
meet her friends.

Huh! Take it.
Eat your apple.

MARIE-THERESE: Stay the night.

PICASSO: No, I can't.

MARIE-THERESE: Because
you are going to see her.

PICASSO: Because I must work.

MARIE-THERESE: The Nazis won't
even let you show your art.

PICASSO: I know but, uh, they
cannot stop me from making it.

Good night.

Well hello, little paloma.

Have you come to visit me?

(explosion).

(inaudible chatter).

PICASSO: There is
fighting in the street.

I was nearly killed
by a stray bullet.

Topics such as this
no longer matter.

MARIE-THERESE:
You promised me.

PICASSO: But you know very
well I have tried everything.

MARIE-THERESE: Oh, you could
petition the courts again.

You are an important man.

PICASSO: I'm also an old man.

What would be the point
of marrying you now?

MARIE-THERESE: Maya
is eight years old.

She wants to know why her
papa doesn't eat with us...

SABARTÉS: Sorry,
mademoiselle, but he is not,
mademoiselle, you cannot...

DORA: Why is she here?

MARIE-THERESE: Get out.

SABARTÉS:
Mademoiselles, please.

DORA: Why is she here, Pablo?

PICASSO: Dora, uh,
you know very well...

that Marie-Therese
is the only woman I love.

DORA: Pablo...

MARIE-THERESE: You heard Pablo.
You may leave now.

DORA: Pablo...

SABARTÉS: Go. I will
you take home.

MARIE-THERESE: I
knew you'd choose me.

PICASSO: You can go, too.

MARIE-THERESE: But...

PICASSO: Yeah, I need
to be alone, now.

¶ ¶

SABARTÉS: So, you are
finished with Dora.

PICASSO: Of course not.

SABARTÉS: And Marie-Therese?

PICASSO: I love Marie-Therese.

She's, kind and soft and she
does everything I want her to.

And I love Dora
because she's, brilliant...

Talented.

SABARTÉS: And yet you
treat them so cruelly.

PICASSO: I can't remember the
last time either of them made
me want to pick up a brush.

Or the last time I made a
picture worth looking at.

I need something new.

CROWD: Ole! Ole!

(grunts).

(gasps).

CARLES: Ooh.

PABLO: Oh, he's all right.
He's not hurt.

My father had a friend who
used to say, it was every
Spanish man's paradise.

Bullfight in the morning.

Bar in the afternoon.

Whorehouse at night.

CARLES: Wise man,
your father's friends.

CROWD: Ole!

PABLO: After he took me here
the first time, I painted.

All in reds and golds.

It was a terrible picture.

But my mother, she thought
it was a masterpiece.

CARLES: But you haven't
painted anything since
we arrived in Málaga.

PABLO: I'd rather
make trouble with you.

CARLES: Mm.

'Cause you're trying to help
me forget about Germaine, or
because you're avoiding work?

CROWD: Ole! Ole! Ole!

CARLES: Well, it's time
for you to pick up a brush.

And for me to go.

PABLO: Carles...

CARLES: You've worked
a miracle, Pablo.

I feel better than
I have in months.

PABLO: You cannot
go back to Paris.

CARLES: No, no, don't worry.

I-I'm going back to Barcelona.

To stay with my parents.

CROWD: Ole!

¶ ¶

(inaudible chatter).

¶ ¶

CARLES: You came.

GERMAINE: You look well.

CARLES: Oh, you
look beautiful.

GERMAINE: I am sorry
I embarrassed you.

CARLES: Oh...

GERMAINE: And I really wanted
to come and meet you...

CARLES: No, it-it
doesn't matter anymore...

GERMAINE: You must know I
am with someone else now.

So we cannot be
more than friends.

I hope you can
understand that.

CARLES: I'm happy for you.

GERMAINE: Really?

CARLES: We should get
the circus together.

Have dinner, celebrate my
triumphant return to Paris.

GERMAINE: Wonderful.

SALVADOR: Picasso.

Is that what you're
calling yourself now?

Because you're ashamed
of your father's name?

My name?

PABLO: Of course not, Uncle.

SALVADOR: And you expect me
to give you money to make
these obscene journals?

PABLO: It's not obscene.
And it's not a gift.

It-It's an investment.

SALVADOR: Pablo. You used to
make beautiful paintings.

And now you what?

A caricaturist?

Don't squander
your talent, Pablo.

GEMEVIEVE: Alain Cuny is the
most talented actor alive and
he just invited me to dinner.

FRANCOISE: How did
you manage that?

GENEVIEVE: I waited for him
backstage after his matinee.

He thought it was
very charming.

And he offered to take
me to the Catalan.

The Catalan, Francoise!

FRANCOISE: Eh, he probably
just wants to take you to bed.

GENEVIEVE: I
certainly hope so.

FRANCOISE: He must be 40.
He's probably married.

GENEVIEVE: So? He's
famous and handsome.

But I can't go alone.

You must come with me.

FRANCOISE: No. There's
too much to do here if
we're going to be ready.

GENEVIEVE: Oh!

The Catalan buys oysters
on the black market.

When was the last
time you had oysters?

And champagne?

She's his mistress?

CUNY: One of them.

GENEVIEVE: How
many does he have?

CUNY: How many women
has he painted?

CARLES: To art!

-To art!

CARLES: And to love!

Two endeavors at which
I have failed miserably.

GROUP: Oh, Carles.
Don't say that.

CARLES: Here, Germaine.
Please.

Would you read this
for me, please?

GERMAINE: The chief of
police and your mother,
why would you...

(screams).

CARLES: One for you...

PALLARÉS: What the
hell are you doing?

CARLES: And one for me.

PALLARÉS: Carles, no!

(screams).

PALLARÉS: It was horrible.

The blood. The brains,
everywhere.

PABLO: It is my fault.

PALLARÉS: What are
you talking about?

PABLO: I never should
have believed him.

I shouldn't
have let him leave, or I
should've gone with him.

PALLARÉS: How are
you supposed to know?

PABLO: God. God
punished me again.

Because I wasn't painting.

PALLARÉS: Jesus Christ. Pablo.

Do you really believe that
God is killing people because
the great Picasso didn't paint

another one of his
masterpieces today?

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

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DORA: Where are you going?

GENEVIEVE: He's coming over.

(clears throat).

CUNY: Ah.

PICASSO: Do you like cherries?

CUNY: That's very
kind, Monsieur Picasso.

Won't you join us?

PICASSO: Oh, I-I'm
afraid I can't.

But I would very much like to
meet your dinner companions.

CUNY: Ah, well.

Francoise is-is
the intellectual.

And Genevieve is
the great beauty.

Doesn't she resemble
a Caravaggio?

PICASSO: Tell me about
the intellectual one here.

GENEVIEVE: Francoise is a
virtuous woman, I'm afraid.

CUNY: Ah, but not for
religious reasons.

Her objections
to lovemaking are based
entirely on Platonic ideals.

PICASSO: And how do they pass
the time, your Caravaggio and
your Platonic philosopher?

FRANCOISE: We're
artists, actually.

PICASSO: Oh.

Uh, you certainly don't
look like any artists
I have ever met.

FRANCOISE: Well, for your
information, Monsieur, we're
having a joint exhibition of

drawings and paintings at a
very well-respected gallery.

Rue Boissy d'Anglas.

PICASSO: Well, I am,
I'm also an artist.

GENEVIEVE: Oh, are you really?

PICASSO: You must come
and visit me some time.

To see some of my work.

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DORA: You are going to
paint her, aren't you?

¶ ¶

PICASSO: The only way
to be a true artist is to
work day and night.

Do you have any
idea how lonely that is?

No one can help you.

You have to do
it on your own!

PABLO: I need to be
offensive, abhorrent,

I need my work to shock.

-He's a complete degenerate.

-Pablo Picasso, we are
taking you for questioning.

PABLO: I worked hard to
get here and I am not going
to let you or anyone else

make a mess of it.

-Congratulations,
you just sold the most
expensive painting in history.

FRANCOISE: I was trying to play
along with your bohemian rules.

PICASSO: I told you
I don't have rules.

Artists must be free.

DORA: Pablo has
never truly allowed
anyone in his life,

he doesn't know how.

He'll get tired of you
like he gets tired of
every woman he falls for.

SABARTÉS: You
always need a new flame.

She's a child, Pablo.

-I fantasized about
this moment for years...

PICASSO: It didn't
occur to me that you were
interested in an old man.

-Art, Picasso, you cannot
separate the two.

PICASSO: All my
romantic adventures have been
ruined by suffering.

-I'm leaving you.
-Nobody leaves Picasso!

-I'm not your prisoner!

PICASSO: An artist must always
see below the surface...

find the ugliness
beneath the beauty.

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