Original subtitles

Did you like it?

I've never had something wriggIing in my mouth before.

How does my tongue feeI?

Like a slug.

lt's disgusting.

You have to breathe, or you'Il choke.

Should l open again?

HaIf open.

That's it.

Okay, get in there.

You're aII sIobbery.

I'm going to throw up.

If it's not wet in there, it won't work.

Stick out your tongue.

Rub it against mine. Breathe through your nose.

How do peop e do it?

Do you want to Iearn, or not?

No.

Open.

No.

Open.

No.

What do you mean, no? Kiss me.

Leave me aIone. I'm aI out of spit. Some other time.

See, you had spit after aII.

Check the tires at the gas station. Pump them up if they need it.

You've got a passenger today. An engineer.

Arrives at 10. You'lI drive him around for a while.

Sure thing.

Your dad, is he doing okay?

We started his treatments.

They admitted him?

No, we go back and forth.

Something like huge prickly-pear trees.

Except instead of prickly pears, they were hung with pricks.

What do you mean?

Big, smaIl, medium-sized...

wrinkly...

erect and milky and juicy ones.

Some bent to the Ieft, some to the right,

some with foreskins, others without.

Trees w th pricks. Prick-trees.

Some were small and shriveled,

but swayed sIightIy...

as if they were breathing.

Did you taste them?

The hard, juicy ones.

A strange taste.

Like bitter aImond.

And an intense smeII of spunk.

What is ''spunk''?

Semen stink.

What's that like?

Like a thousand men jerked off in the same spot.

And you like that?

You know, it's one of those things you like,

but at the same time makes you feeI guiIty.

I don't know...

Seeing genita s in your s eep is a bad omen.

lt terrifies me.

Because you're ignorant, that's why.

They're Iike those animaIs you Iove,

in those documentaries by Sir Attenberg.

Sir David Attenborough.

They're I ke IittIe animaIs too.

They act with a mind of their own,

it's just that they're attached to men's bodies.

Do you ever imagine me naked?

No, never.

A father's mind represses such thoughts about his own daughter.

Is it taboo?

There's a reason why we mammaIs have taboos.

lt ensures the propagation of our species, without defects.

I have imagined you naked.

Shame on you.

It bothers me as an mage, but I don't reject it.

I prefer to think of you...

as a man without a penis.

You're right.

Some things shouId stay taboo.

- To the hoteI? - Right.

Can you be here tomorrow morning at eight?

I don't work tomorrow morning.

Only the afternoon.

Four o'cIock at the factory, then?

- Okay. - Bye.

Bye.

You smell like bIeach.

And you smeIl Iike gasoIine.

Eat your pot-roast, mommy's girl.

l'm not a mommy's girI.

l don't have a mom.

Daddy's girI, then.

How's Spyros?

You mean Mister Spyros.

lt annoys me when you become so famiIiar.

BeIIa, you Iitt e sIut.

Do you want more bread?

There's a lookout sitting on that tree...

and he's already seen me.

There is more...meaning, and...

mutual understanding, in exchanging a glance with a gorilla,

than any other animal l know.

And so if ever there was a possibility of...

escaping the human condition, and living imaglnatively...

in another creature's world,

lt must be with the gorilla.

You stiII have her photos.

You were good together.

Keep this.

And this.

And this.

And this, and that's it.

lf l drive too fast, teII me.

Okay.

Eye to eye

Hand in hand

My heart wiIl be happy

Without fear of tomorrow

There w II be a day

When my souI

Is without sorrow

The day when

l will also have

Someone who Ioves me

Like the boys and girls my age

I wiII soon know what Iove is

Like the boys and girls my age

I wonder when that day wiIl come

Eye to eye

Hand in hand

They head off in love

Without fear of tomorrow

Yes, but l walk the streets alone

My soul in sorrow

Yes, but l walk alone

Because no one loves me

My days, like my nights

Are the same in every way

Without joy and fllled with boredom

With no one to whisper "l love you'' in my ear

All the boys and girls my age

Make plans together for their future

All the boys and girls my age

Will know what it means to love someone...

GoaI.

You know babifoot.

''Babifoot''?

FoosbaI .

GoaI.

GoaI.

- Bye. - Bye.

WilI you ever get married?

l don't think so.

Don't you Iike men?

Not particularIy.

I don't bIame you.

You don't ike them either?

- I prefer women. - Me too.

Not that way, not like you. l don't desire them.

l have never desired.

I've never done it with anyone.

l find it disgusting.

Repulsive.

A thing inside me, moving in and out Iike a piston...jamming me...

l refuse to imagine you've got one of those things too.

I don't have one of those things.

Never did.

You reaIIy are an extraterrestr aI...

just as I thought.

NutIess.

Gut ess.

HeartIess.

Fartless.

Snotless.

Spitless.

Witless.

Have you ever desired anyone, since mom?

Yes.

Have you done it?

What?

You know...

That. The "piston.''

Yes.

You disappoint me.

- A IittIe compassion. - l hate compassion.

I'd ike you to start iving aIong w th others.

That's not how you taught me to Iive.

Why are you asking me to do it now?

What are you doing here?

l had a passenger.

Want to come up? For a beer?

l've got to take the Volvo back.

Just for a littIe bit.

What's your name?

Marina.

You Iike Suicide.

Yes. A Iot.

Me too.

Alan Vega's a god, right?

Yes.

You're too young to be Iistening to Suicide.

23.

What's your favorite song?

''Be Bop Kid.''

''Surrender''?

lt's good.

A little meIodramatic, but good.

Want to sit down?

Here.

Beer?

No.

- Can l kiss you? - What?

- Am l doing it right? - Fine.

Do you like it?

Very much. You?

I've never done t before.

With a man.

With a woman?

With my best friend.

She's very experienced.

- You don't smoke. - No.

You taste nice.

You too.

Keep going.

I met someone.

Who is it?

Someone.

Someone you Iike?

I think so.

- Do you want me to meet him? - No.

Then why are you telIing me?

l don't have anyone else to telI.

- You have BeIIa. - She'd fIirt with him.

She fIirts with you too.

Haven't you noticed?

BulIshit.

Don't swear.

I'm not.

You are.

Fine.

You want to fight.

Your problem is BeIIa, or the guy you met?

My probIem is your swearing.

I hardly ever swear.

And l feel awkward about aII this.

AlI what?

Do l know him?

- He's not from here. - You like him?

l already said. Yes.

Does he Iike you?

- No. - How do you know that?

I'm guessing.

But does he know he Iikes you?

No.

- Are you going to teIl him? - No.

l think you should.

I don't agree.

Fine.

Don't telI him, then.

OK.

l Iike women's breasts.

The way they bulge under blouses.

l can't take my eyes off them.

It must make the women feeI uncomfortabIe.

But l don't ust after their breasts.

I admire them.

lf l had dreams like yours,

I'd dream of breast-trees instead of penis-trees.

Tit-trees. Prick-trees.

Keep on correcting my Greek...

idiot.

Do you like my tits?

Yes. They're very beautifuI.

- Do you envy them? - No.

Why not?

They're too small.

Want to touch them?

To try them out?

BeIIa, you Iitt e sIut.

Touch them to be sure.

They don't arouse me.

Am I asexuaI?

Do men arouse you?

Yes.

You haven't touched one.

- l have. - When?

- Recently. - Who?

- Someone. - You're lying.

I'm not.

You're a sea-urchin. You don't Iet anyone touch you.

- l let someone touch me. - Then why didn't you tell me?

- It's none of your business. - l'm your friend.

You're a predator.

You're one of those women who can't stand women.

We women are the wondrous mystery of the animaI kingdom.

You haven't seen the documentaries of Sir David Attenborough.

You're insufferabIy pedestrian.

You can't stand women either.

...and ignorant.

- You can't stand them either. - Yes. But I admire them.

I admire you and you're insufferabIy pedestrian.

Don't mimic the way l speak.

Stop repeating what l say, please.

Who is he?

You don't know him.

You haven't got your cIaws nto him yet.

Does Spyros know him?

lt is Spyros.

You felI for it, didn't you?

You have the hots for my father.

lt's as if we were designing ruins.

As if calcuIating their eventuaI coIIapse...

with mathematical precision.

Bourgeois arrogance.

EspeciaIly for a country that skipped...

the industriaI age aItogether.

From shepherds to bulldozers,

from buIIdozers to mines, and from mines, straight to...

...petit-bourgeois hysteria.

We buiIt an industriaI coIony on top of sheep pens...

and thought we were mak ng a revoIution.

A smaII revolution.

I Iike it.

It's soothing, aII this un formity.

Because deep down you're an optimistic bourgeois modernist.

Bourgeois.

Bonjour, bourgeois.

Bonjour, bourgeois.

Fright.

Flight.

Fight.

Bite.

Bright.

White.

Light.

Night. Sight.

Light.

Shite.

Sh t.

Sit.

Seat.

Beat.

Bat.

Bet.

Bed.

B ed.

Dead.

BasicalIy, you're eaten by the worms.

They start with the eyes. They're the softest.

Then they go n through the nostriIs.

They get inside. They burrow.

After a while only your skeIeton is left.

Do we have to taIk about this?

lt upsets me.

I prefer not to go through it.

Anyway you always toId me that architects would burn in helI.

l'm trying to fend off your macabre pronouncements with bad jokes.

l'm not ready.

l need your heIp to escape the worms.

I hate those fucking worms.

lf we lived somewhere else we wouldn't be having this discussion.

Here, we have to arrange it through some kind of provider.

Provider of what?

Alternative funeraIs.

A funeral home for aIternative Christians who are scared of worms.

Exactly.

The worms devour you. All that remains are bones.

Then you're dug up. Packed in a tin box and pIaced on a sheIf.

And then they bury someone else in your aIlotted space.

Urban planning for the dead.

Do l have to send you away?

Abroad?

Yes.

And once...

once you're there... what happens next?

What do I do?

They'II send me back to you...

and you'II scatter my ashes in the sea.

Which sea?

This one here.

You've thought of everything.

l'm sorry if l'm shocking you.

What shocks me is that you pIan things without me,

and then announce them in the end.

It's not the end yet.

Right.

Do you like it?

You don't have to constantIy ask me.

Sorry.

Don't say sorry.

Sorry for saying sorry.

l don't exactly know what l'm doing...

but don't show me what to do.

lt annoys me when peopIe show me what to do.

l'm not embarrassed.

You make me feel unembarrassed.

I fee good Iying on top of you.

You smelI great.

I can feeI your cock but it doesn't bother me.

I always thought that when the time came, it wouId bother me.

Until recently l couldn't even say the word ''cock.''

You're not hard.

No.

Why?

Interview over?

Yes.

Can you keep quiet for two minutes?

And then?

Kiss me.

Can we turn off the light?

No. I want to be ab e to see you.

l can't concentrate.

Close your eyes.

l want to look at you.

With the Iight off, you won't be abIe to.

We'll Ieave the bathroom light on.

Now wiII you get hard?

Not IikeIy. You're stressing me out.

Sorry.

How about you, got a hard-on?

I think so.

Want to heIp us out a Iitt e?

How?

Stop taIking so much.

So...

l purse my Iips slightly...

and stick out my tongue.

I beg you, stop describing what you're doing.

I'II give you a blow job.

No, no, it's okay. Later.

It's moving slightIy.

On its own? Or is it you doing it?

They met as flve-year-olds...

when they returned to these cllffs where they had hatched.

While their elders nested,

they joined with groups of others of their own age, to dance.

As the dance parties proceeded,

the male and the female began to dance with one another habitually.

After a few weeks of these courtship games,

the young birds flew off, back to sea.

During the year that followed, they cruised the ocean separately,

looking for fish. But the following year, they were both back.

And here we have a more modern range.

Oak, wa nut, cherry, pine or mahogany...

ExceIIent finishes,

cIean lines.

The fabric swatches are in these cata ogs.

This one here...

and this one.

AII top quality.

It can't be synthetic. He's aIIergic.

The synthetic fabrics are in a separate cataIog.

And as far as which countries I can send him to?

WelI...

we work w th BuIgaria, Monaco and Germany.

Hamburg, to be exact.

l wouldn't recommend Bulgaria as your first choice...

It's the cheapest option, if you don't m nd me saying.

They mainly serve peopIe from the BaIkans.

We're BaIkan too.

I mean from the former Eastern BIoc.

You know. Atheists.

I propose sending him to Hamburg, where services are more advanced.

The deceased is sent ahead by air,

you foIIow on another fIight that day,

you are met by Iimousine,

and within three hours of your arrivaI,

the cremation procedure takes pIace in your presence.

We can aIso book a string quartet for the ceremony.

Here is a seIection of eccIesiastic music to choose from.

He Iikes bebop.

I'm afraid pop-pop isn't an avaiIabIe option...

Bebop.

Be that as it may, the options are fixed.

And if l don't go with him?

The ashes are sent as cargo to Athens airport.

We prefer Greek airlines, out of respect for the deceased.

The urn is deIivered directly into your hands.

Do l pick out the urn here?

Of course.

We are the only undertakers who offer such a wide range of urns.

I have a few sampIes here that I can show you...

That's too fancy for my father.

One moment...

Right, my official consent form.

''I wouId Iike to become a member of the non-profit Committee...

for the Right to Cremation in Greece, and...

l'd Iike to receive free pamphIets published by the Committee.''

''Yes / no?''

Yes.

Good to keep abreast of deve opments, where I'm going.

The undersigned...

l donate my body to our next fish soup.

Spyrosoup.

BouiIIabaisse.

I've never been to Hamburg.

Are you coming a ong?

lf you want.

Whatever you decide.

I'd rather wait for you here. l'm scared of airpIanes.

When I'm deIivered back to you, don't forget to scatter me...

Shut up.

Hold on a moment.

We used to say that when I grew up,

l'd become a NASA astronaut.

And that l'd explore a new planet.

PIuto.

Are you ready to be an astronaut?

Yes.

Where are your loyaI assistants?

Your IittIe robots?

Here.

How many are there? WiII they be enough?

Yes.

l'm boycotting the 20th century.

lt's overrated. And l'm not at aII sorry to leave it.

I'm an atheist old man.

A toxic remnant of modernism...

of post-Enlightenment...

And I Ieave you in the hands of a new century,

without having taught you anything.

What is there, where you're going?

A giant, warm pussy wa ting to suck me back up.

Forgive me.

Sometimes l forget that you're not my buddy.

You don't have any buddies, that's why.

l'm your onIy buddy.

I'd ike you to do me a favor.

l'd Iike you to sleep with my father.

What do you mean?

Are you stupid or something?

You've been with guys oIder than him.

Your father asked for this?

Of course not.

My father isn't I ke those fiIthy sIeazebags you screw.

He hasn't been with a woman for centuries.

I think he wants to, but he's too shy.

Will you do it?

Yes or no?

I'm uncomfortabIe around him.

He'l want you.

lsn't that why you usually do it?

To vaIidate yourseIf, to feeI wanted?

OnIy th s time,

you won't give me the detaiIs.

l don't want to know a thing.

It's a favor.

Ask one of me too, and we're even.

Say my name.

My little Marina.

Without the ''little.''

Marina.

Again.

Marina.

Again.

Again.

Marina.

Dad.

When can I pick him up?

Tomorrow after tweIve.

I'lI need the death certificate.

The undertaker wiII take care of that.

To which funeral parlor do we deliver him?

What difference does it make?

We have a duty to issue a shipping invoice.

Do you have their name and address with you?

Shipping invoice...

UnfortunateIy there is also an outstanding balance to cIear...

lncluding extra meaIs and the sateIlite TV.

We didn't have satelIite. We never even used the TV.

Here you are.

Have you coIlected his things?

Come on, throw him.

Now.