All language subtitles for Animals_ferits-ENG-(1028404)

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WOUNDED ANIMALS

Good morning.

Every time Silvio Lisboa
plans a tryst

with his lover at
the Princesa Sofia

when he's lucky,
for an entire weekend

there is only one condition:

that it is always in room 23
on the 17th ?oor.

Room 1723.

Not because of some sordid fetish

or that it's a theme room
in Roman style.

Or maybe it is,
but that's not important

Even without a jacuzzi

at times they use the bathtub
for erotic games.

But that's no reason to always
insist on the same room.

- It'll be 1 year soon.
- Should we celebrate?

With a weekend intensive.

"Sex-storming"
really turns me on. Really.

Lots of talk. ls your money
where you mouth is?

Silvio's fixation with 1723
is pan sentimental,

part perverse

It has a view of his house
just a few blocks away.

And with binoculars
he sees everything.

Why does he do it?
Well, he gets off on it

- A change of scenery to celebrate?
- What?

- Our anniversary.
- You don't like the decore here?

- Don't call this decore.
- But it's perfect.

And the only interior
that interests me...

is yours.

She never asks the reasons
for his obsession.

She doesn't care what happens
outside of the room.

But if she gives it a 2nd thought

she finds his Casanova complex
glaringly obvious.

- Irina?
- Yes?

- Found what we were looking for.
- can't talk now.

You'll be really happy.

Can call you back?
Good afternoon.

Daniel, you can tell me tonight.
See you soon.

Their stints in the hotel
are difficult to plan

since both have busy schedules

It just doesn't suit
the wall paper we chose.

And gossip y secretaries.

It has to be today
because tomorrow is the opening.

Look, you know the clients
are impatient, so please.

Please, make it this afternoon, OK?

All right.

Riga again?

No. Tallinn.

This weekend it's Tallinn.

Italy?

No, Estonia. Mariela,
take my bags down to the car.

You look nice. Can take you
to the airport?

It's OK, love.
I'll go from the office.

OK.

See you, dear.

Excuse me.

What happened?

- Traffic was terrible.
- thought you were trapped in 1723.

- Made it!
- thought you got lost.

- Haven't lost it yet.
- When am going to meet him?

Don't parade my conquests.

- But life is short.
- And hard, I'm telling you.

See you soon.

Ladies and gentlemen, your attention,
please. Good evening.

Please step this way.

It is my pleasure to introduce
the work of this artist.

Claudia is 36. She has one child

and two versions of
her business card.

On the first, below her name,
it says "interior designer"

On the other, "decorator".

And this is the big surprise

a Modernist ceramic planter,
one of a kind...

This subtle use of synonyms
sums up her success

so she can suggest a porcelain
planter in a elegant residence

or a fashionable lamp
for a trendy loft.

- A baroque chair.
- Means decorator.

Means interior designer.

Hello Jose. Mr. Lisboa
is waiting, right?

When Silvio met her, he was
enchanted, mesmerized.

We want to mark our
20th year in this office

and so we both wanted to meet you.

- We need to redesign the office.
- Update the image?

Every time we see a new interior
by Claudia Riera

we feel it has more
and more personality.

Especially liked your
design showcase...

Really?

Like how you organize your plate

the shrimp-heads arranged so...
don't know,

SO zen.

Zen.

- Well, I've traveled a lot in Asia.
- Really?

He felt fascinated by her
slight strabismus.

2mm of divergence that held
a mixture of power

and mystery.

- still haven't been to Japan.
- It's paradise.

A woman with very...

A very- well- a very seductive
woman don't you think?

After the 2nd lunch meeting

in a Sushi restaurant
designed by Claudia

they ended up at the
Princesa Sofia

and they got 1723.

They have gone secretly
every Tuesday

and some weekends,
for a year now.

During this time they have
become experts

in taking calculated risks

on the emotional and
familial level.

It's like an adventure sport.

We hardly ever speak.

Sometimes feel don't know you.

How is it with your wife?

We keep up appearances,
like told you, love.

We have separate bedrooms.

Silvio?

I'm fed up. These ex-communist
hotels are getting to me.

- Poor darling. Are you alone?
- Alone and bored, yes.

No TV? But hear you
so well for you to be so far away.

Estonia isn't exactly next door.

- Can't hear you.
- What's the time there?

Is it really so cold?

It's bearable. You just need
to bundle up.

But the gray gets me.

Poor dear. So you won't be back
till Monday?

Work is work, love.

For some genetic reason

Marcia has learned to live
with his suspected infidelity

as if it were a
defect from birth.

feel anxious- don't know why.

Maybe inside a cancerous desperation
has been born

but it's not spreading yet.

Publicly, everything is perfect

Feigned virtue and balance.

If you want a little something,
know an Indian...

- An Indian?
- He's the best, straight from Brazil.

- From Copacabana?
- From the school of Pitangui.

A very successful
cranio-facial surgeon.

Nobody knows how, but he'll make
you beautiful. Divine.

Do look that bad?

Did you talk to your mom?

She's well.
My aunt is a little sick.

And my mother...

The house where work
is a soap-opera.

A soap opera?

Yes, a real day-time-drama.
I'm sure the husband has a lover.

Know- when he returns from trips
wash his clothes.

His underwear are filthy,
like they're starched.

- What does his wife say?
- Poor lady... nothing.

Cries over nothing but make her
a coca mate and she's fixed.

Every few months
she gets imaginary back pains...

Back pains?

Yes. They're just an excuse

to visit an osteopath
who treats her right.

- They say his hands are soft as silk.
- Yeh?

But when clean the medicine cabinet
the bottles of pills

and the tubes of cream he prescribes
are always unopened.

Tonight can't take you home, love.

It'd be interesting to dig deeper
into the Mexican's life,

but we must tum to a tragedy
in the life of the Lisboa 3.

Well, tragedy is too strong.

Let's say it'd be
a provincial vaudeville.

Mrs. Lisboa, you have a call.

Yes?

Mrs. Lisboa?

I'm the director of the Interiors
Dept. of La Vanguardia.

La Vanguardia?

- I'd like to inform you that Riera...
- Claudia Riera?

the famous designer.
Do you know her?

Of course. She's divine...

We know about your home
and hoped it would be OK

for the Magazine to showcase it

Claudia Riera would write the piece.
Any objections?

No, on the contrary.

Know her work and adore it.

She did fantastic things to
my husband's office. It's like new...

- So we can count on you?
- When would it be?

If it's OK, next Friday.

- think I'm free.
- It will be the photographer and her.

I'll be waiting.
It's been a pleasure. Bye.

Thank you, goodbye.

Mariela, take my hand.
don't know what to do.

Want to scream for joy.

Just don't know which friend
at the club to tell first.

Maybe it's best to keep it a secret

and wait to see their surprise
when it's published.

What you need Mrs. Lisboa
is a coca mate

made with aspirin.

Yes, yes...

La Vanguardia!

Do they read it in Buenos Aires?

Those doses of coca mate were so
revitalizing for Marcia

that they will be her only food
for the whole week.

Imagine, my love! It's the Magazine!

Unbelievable, love it!
It's fantastic...

Weren't we already in Marie Claire?

You're terrible. You're thinking of
the pictures

of your business
partner's country home

Ours is much more important.
Much more.

It's in La Vanguardia and
Claudia Riera is writing it.

Like a predator tempted
to a more attractive prey

his lover's maneuver seems
deliciously Machiavellian.

Claudia Riera, the designer?

Really. Claudia Riera.

THE DEVIL IS A WOMAN

How exciting my little darling!

Like a social debut, mama!

Above all they must see our house

is warm, but not too busy.
Cosy, OK?

Natural, neither serious
nor ordinary, natural.

And they shouldn't publish
our address in the piece

or we'll attract thieves.

I'm thinking...

a bowl of cereal on the kitchen
table is perfect.

Hum] and hide your father's
tennis trophies.

Yes, yes.

Aided by an extensive library
of design magazines

they order exotic ?owers

to go with the scented candles.

- Oh, how love it!
- She likes it.

That one would be better.

They buy coffee
table books about art

An original Jose Luis Pascual

for a pop-art touch in the bath.

- Wow, mean, it's a Pascual.
- Pas-cual.

- Not like the president.
- Then how, mama?

Pascual- like the milk, Carlota!

On a buying spree

they fall in love
with a guest book

for a stand in the entrance.

Did you see the price?

Only the best.

Precious. It's silk. Truly rare.

Guests won't be able
to resist signing.

It can be funny or serious
as long as they sign.

We must do more shopping!

Tomorrow antiques!

But slowly.
Let's not scare your father.

Thank you.

- Where is she taking this?
- What do you mean?

Coming into my home with
this report as an excuse is sick.

And like it, she's playing
with fire but...

- It's her work. Don't be absurd.
- It's more than her work.

- It turns her on.
- Don't talk shit.

Really? Maybe think too much.

Be careful. My situation
has gotten critical.

For me it's back to the wife
or she takes it all.

Told you, you split up too soon.

Said it wouldn't last
with a 22 year old skirt.

Especially not if you're
living in a foul motel.

You were always more clever.
You knew how to play both sides.

I'm an amateur.

In any case, let me give
you some advice.

If Marcia confronts you,
admit nothing.

Nothing. Don't be stupid.

Come on babe, it's late.

If the gas inspector comes,
let him in but keep an eye on him.

And close the gas line when he goes.

Collect the mail so it's not
obvious we're gone.

You've got my cell,
but only for emergencies.

- You packed the camera?
- Yes.

- And the cards?
- Yes.

- And the fishing gear?
- Yes.

- Are we bringing the new sheets?
- Under control. My cell...

...kaputt. Let's go.

This sandwich is good.

What's on your mind, Silvio?

Was calculating what
this farce will cost us.

- You'll fall short.
- know you Marcia and...

Please, look at it as
a unique opportunity

to redecorate the house.
Like the Olympics were for Barcelona.

OK, if it makes you happy...

But don't charge too much. And best
not to show them the bedroom.

- Oh, how could have forgotten!
- What?

We must call our son to get us a dog.

He knows about that sort of thing.
Yes, just for the day of the shoot.

But one that doesn't soil the carpet.

Let's see, one of those pure breeds...

Big, with lots of hair.

And calm.

Love... Today have a headache.

Come... don't you worry...
I'll make it better...

Well, OK. But turn on the TV.

On the day of the visit there
wont appear a good-matured dog

nor any Siamese cat
lounging on a cushion.

Because their non-conformist,
veterinarian son won't play along.

- Hello.
- Hi.

- Were you waiting long?
- Not at all. Just 5 minutes.

- Hello, good afternoon.
- Good afternoon. Come in.

You are expected.

Hello.

Delighted to meet you...

- Nice to meet you.
- Carlota, my eldest daughter.

- How are you?
- A pleasure.

- Our photographer.
- Hello, dear.

The goddess of good taste's style
leaves Marcia so breathless

that she has a lesbian moment
of butter?ies in her stomach.

You've no idea how I've looked
forward to meeting you.

Silvio has talked so much about you
and I've seen your work... charming.

Of course. My husband says hello
and apologizes for not being here.

He'll be late. One never knows
when he'll get home.

Too bad. I'd have loved
to say hello.

He's truly, very sorry.
But you and ...

- We don't need him, do we?
- Of course not.

- Where should we begin?
- By the door saw

some interesting icons.

Ah, yes, yes. Of course.

It was difficult for
Silvio to find them.

He paid a fortune for them on
the black market in St. Petersburgh.

- They' re authentic?
- Oh yes, they're authentic. Of course.

It was a very dangerous business
involving tens of thousands of dollars.

He could have ended up
imprisoned in Siberia.

Love the subtle dialogue created
between the carpets... Iranian?

- Afgans.
- Afgans.

This way.
Well, this is our king-size bed.

With Silvio everything is king-size.
Can call you Claudia?

- Of course.
- This way.

Quite a contrast between Rodin's
style and Pascual's, don't you think?

Or is it a Picasso?

No, no. Pascual. We'd never
put Pablo in the bathroom.

These little deco figurines are fun.

And have you seen
the ones on the shelf?

Ah. You collect African art, too?

The maid prepared us a snack
outside. Is that OK?

Excellent.

Your terrace is priceless.

- May?
- Of course...

Even before deducing or
understanding anything,

like a tasteless joke

the view of the weathered,
whitish walls of the hotel

fills her with fury.

Excuse me, have to go.
I've got another appointment.

Please, don't get up.
Can your maid see me out?

Worst of all, we don't know whether
to be annoyed or grateful, papa.

Just don't understand, darling.

Neither do we. And don't know if
our efforts will come to anything.

Yes, it's that... she seemed so
pleased but then suddenly left.

- But how did she leave?
- Like we had offended her, daddy.

You just had to see it. Shocking.
It's shocking.

Yes, it's very strange.

And she's the one who ruined it.
Right mother?

Now I'm wondering...
You met her...

Was she this way when they
renovated your office?

- Don't remember. hardly knew her.
- Well, tn] to remember.

Yes, it's true. She could be charming
but then she seemed a little...

well... like a crazy
eccentric artist. It's true.

What a bitch. But what a bitch!

I'm going to get sick.

Downstairs are so many parked limos.

Clients who hurry into the hotel.

On the other side of the avenue
there are people jogging,

cyclists, sumptuous homes
with lush terraces

and miniature gardens.

Claudia!

Wait. You'll see where
want to go with this.

On the terrace of one of these
homes also see a lonely man.

It's hard to tell, but from here
he looks like an aged man.

And would say he looks
longingly toward this window.

He seems to suffer.

Maybe it's because he used
to come to this room.

Because he wanted to have
his cake and eat it too.

But now these meetings are just
a foggy memory

because the day his lover
asked him to,

he walked away and never
came back to see her again.

Exactly as you're
going to do right now, Silvio.

He spends the next hours at
the office anesthetized by pride,

convincing himself that it is easy
to deal with this mishap.

You're screwed. Take it calmly, as
if it were an obligatory quarantine.

Look, go home and take one of these.

Great for depression.
It'll start your engines.

What the hell does this say?

Don't understand anything.
Silvio, take a look...

Come on, look...

Let's see, called the girl
for help but she was out.

Today just had to be adopted
Chinese girls' party.

Everything just has to go
against me, Silvio! Everything!

- It's hard to understand anything.
- Well, try.

I'd say it's about the article.
It starts with "No".

Let me...
It seems she's a southpaw.

Yes, it seems she is. Let's see...

Here there's a 17 and a 23.
That's for sure. Look.

This is a 17 and a 23.

It must refer to
the publication date.

Who knows, love!

Damn. What a great effort
you're making.

Hello.

One moment.

You'd better tell her yourself.
Marcia, it's for you.

Yes?

'M the director of the Magazine.
Remember me?

Yes, of course do.

I'm sorry but we've dropped
the article for technical reasons.

Excuse me? Did you say "dropped"?

Dropped forever?

What a bitch. Fucking bitch.

Good morning.

Mr. Lisboa left early.
A mate will do you good.

The icons! It was the icons!

The icons!

It's all because of
those damned icons!

Those stupid icons!

Silvio, I'm wise to them now!

What do you mean?

That those Russian icons
might be valuable and expensive

but they're old and
don't fucking match

the Le Corbusier chaise lounge
or the Japanese lkebanas.

Darling...

And they only make you think
of exploitation and pillagers:

plain-cloths police outside Moscow

watching the summer homes
of the nouveau riche.

Marcia... forget it, love.
It's over now.

Feel ugly, haggard, old.

I'm a faded, wasted piece of meat.

Don't even have the energy
to go out, Mariela.

Can you understand?

Don't take things so seriously.

Cancel the visit to the osteopath
and call my astrologer.

There are other magazines,
don't get depressed now.

Depression knocks at her door,

to quote the inadequate title
of a self-help book,

when that night the Lisboas
joyfully celebrated

the adoption of a Chinese girl.

Incredible! When you
see all the little creatures

you'd get the whole collection! Look!

- Are there many like her?
- Thousands and thousands.

One million, two hundred thousand.

Beautiful book.
Borja, pour me another.

It's very positive.
Mom, you'll love it

Yes. Why don't you read it?
It'll help you.

"If your life has aged, restore it".

Seems like good advice.

Mariela!

Mariela, come here please.

Wrap them up
and put them in the attic.

- That's where they stay.
- Yes madam.

The psychoanalyst deciphering
her dreams

will struggle even to relate
them to an arbitrary obsession.

It would probably end
with a Russian doll

Marcia lost at the age of 6
at her parents summer house

in Argentina, where she was born.

Ah, finally. would like to request
an appointment with Dr. Pillai.

Marcia. Marcia Lisboa.

It's concerning a little retouching.

Two weeks and six visits later,

Silvio decides it best to keep
quiet and just pay the bills.

In the operating room,
Marcia's face will be redrawn

by the hieratic pen
of plastic surgery

as the Andrei Rublov of cosmetic
surgeons creates a work of art

Though still asleep, her cheeks
seem to glow in a lush light,

now like mother-of-pearl,
now like wax.

Once home, they will complement
the serene glimmer

of the aromatic candles.

Self mutilation becomes
Marcia 's pleasure

which then tums into
Silvio 's, too.

Silvio!

Yes, love.

I'm bored.

Should apply more cream?

No. Wait a little while.

I'll make the most of it and
go for a walk. Need anything?

No, no, no...

Should bring you a magazine?

You can't be serious!
can't even open my eyes!

Don't be silly, love. The doctor
said it'll only be 3 weeks.

Thank god for the sedatives!

And the Manhattans, dear.
And the Manhattans.

Come on, cheer up. Look at me.
You're beautiful.

I'm sorry, love. Sorry

Leave it. I'll do it.

- So can go?
- Go!

Here is Daniel,

a man who never liked
the quiet way

that memories die

and less, how easily they let
themselves be reeled in

when we need them to make
life more trouble-free,

even if we are lying
to ourselves.

Up and down.
Very good! Up and down.

Up, down. The leg. Up. Down.

In the water,
Irina perfects her body

to the rhythm of harsh,
monotonous music.

One and two and
three and four. Again!

She lets go and it seems
as if she even enjoys it.

Daniel finds it horrifying,
but he says nothing.

They have been living like
astronauts in a trailer for 4 weeks.

As if, lacking gravity,
they have lost the sense of time.

Daniel loves to fish.

His wife finds it horrifying,
but says nothing.

Going to the cove.

They are a couple who
waste no words.

Daniel can't take
stories that unfold

in an orderly or predictable way.

Like Tarzan 's swinging from
vine to vine in the jungle

that lets him travel in the tree-tops
without putting a foot on the ground.

Will you be long?

No bites yet. Why?

I'm tired.

I'm doing nothing,
but I'm tired. It's really hot.

So stay. It's early.
This breeze will do you good.

- I'm going back to the camp-site.
- Fine. As you like.

Don't be too long.

What do you want for lunch
tomorrow? Sea bass? Bream?

A shark.

Something else about Daniel
is that he can't stand

the feeling that everything
has been prearranged.

Like those novels where the
characters seem remote controlled.

As if a train once on track can't
derail for reasons of budget

- Don't you relax on vacation?
- What are you doing here!

- And you?
- Camping. We're camping.

Second summer.
A month here is just right.

The trailer, the sea,
fishing- above all fishing.

Coffee?

3 years ago a co-worker invited us
to go camping down south.

Turned out terrible! 5 hours after
arriving and pitching the Apache...

Apache, like the helicopter?

No, it's a type of tent.

We set everything up and then
didn't know what to talk about.

Then after dinner we always
went for ice-cream. Every day!

And then we'd take a walk
by the hippies' kiosks.

- Hippies?
- Hippies, yeah... those tacky hippies

that set up at the along the beach

as if they were a tourist
attraction. Look...

took 7 or 8 pictures that year

and we were always in our bathing
suits, smiling like this...

posed.

Something... found so sad
that tossed them out.

- So it was "swell"?
- Yeah, exactly.

But it did get us into
the camping thing.

They told Irina about mythical
Cadaques, and here we are.

It's the 2nd year.
We are re-offenders.

Come on girls! Let's go!
Up and down! And turn!

And other side. Excellent!

Turn again and
to the other side.

Leave the package in front
and now the other side!

Now the other side!

In the middle.
Go down again and up!

What to do?

Don't know. Want to play
Monopoly or Scrabble?

No... don't feel like it.
We'll play this winter.

Care for a walk? We're going
to dinner with Gorka, right?

- Should dress up?
- There's time.

He suspected nothing

because he didn't
think it possible.

And he certainly never instigated
a contest of fidelity.

If his words sound reproachful,

or contain the hysterical
hint of jealousy

it's because now they're dead
and filled with pain,

like an animal they've
stuffed and mounted:

to exhibit and remember.

Isn't it peaceful?

Speak a little Catalan.

But not at the camp site,
otherwise can't flirt.

And what's more,
you Catalans don't help at all.

- Yeah, it's peaceful.
- It's marvelous.

Yes, but it won't last.

Don't be defeatist.

- Mean that the vacation's over.
- So soon?

We've been here a month.
Tomorrow we go home.

People from Barcelona are fortunate.

You've got all this just next door
and can come year round.

The Catalans have a talent
for not appreciating what we have.

Half the world envies us
and we are oblivious.

It's a bit insane.

That fateful night,

as soon as he had thrown
his 1st cast

he had the feeling this time
would be different.

Like someone was launching
a plot against him,

the animal smelled the trap.

That night had
far-reaching effects.

It's as if each moment
he was being exposed to a virus

that had been quietly spreading
inside him for months

and later manifested itself with
a retroactive effect,

contaminating every aspect
of his life.

Moreover, it never really
stopped dying inside him.

The conflict excites him:

the desperate loss
and foolish vanity

of feeling himself the leading
role in the disgrace.

Amidst that mass of sweaty ?esh,

Irina legs traced
the sign of victory.

He will never be able to describe
the shudder and revulsion

he would feel whenever
he wore a wet bathing suit

or damp boxers the drier
has failed to completely dry.

His black box recorded
a cowardly reaction,

ridiculous, childish.

Idiot!

Where have you been all this time?

At the cove there was a boat.

Thought it would be easy
and pleasant to swim out to it,

a good way to end the night.

Swam out silently without
breaking the surface,

swimming like a dog.

An when got there

a couple was making love.

Good night.

Sometimes his temples
suddenly start sweating,

and he wonders if that night was
only the tip of the iceberg.

As if throwing it in his
face was for Irina

the ultimate essence of pleasure.

mailed all of the postcards.

Said we had fun and that
you caught fish and octopus.

And that it's a shame
the holiday's over.

- Did you go by reception?
- Yes.

- I'm afraid that...
- What?

Afraid the drive will be hot.

Look, the rest-area.
Can we take a short break?

Buy water.

I'll lay down in the trailer.

Didn't sleep much last night.

You tossed and turned.

He'll never know if his
reaction was overly harsh.

If he should have found the right
moment to look Irina in the eyes

and ask her to speak calmly,

Like the Sunday
horoscope recommends.

Maybe Irina would have burst
into tears, shattered.

And this would have been
the prologue to a period of trust

Maybe they even would have tried
to have a child, you never know.

The car handles better
without the trailer.

He'll accelerate as a test.

Hurry up...

Since he got here
6 months ago from Peru,

Jorge Washington has discovered

a few unexpected sides
of his new life.

He arrived ready to deal
with the uggiiness hidden under

the idea! surface he looked
down on from the plane.

But in the moment of truth
what disturbs him most

are the treacherous details
of the daily grind.

He feels homesick when he calls
his family back in Lima,

as if it's a virus that lurks
in every telephone booth.

Mariela, his girl-friend
of 7 weeks,

partly compensates
for this feeling

by filling his worst
days with tenderness.

We're almost out of paint.
I'm going for more.

I'll be a few hours.

These are the obediently repeated
hours of the workday,

boring and plain like
the white walls they paint.

Aided by an oral tradition
that makes sex easy to get

for painters, plumbers,
and postmen,

he tries ?irting openly.

Do you speak Spanish?

Of course.

Ciao!

In the wake of her farewell lingers
a trail of French perfume that

he rushes to inhale like
an addict inhales cocaine.

Then, luckily, there's
the counterpoise of affable Odo,

his 2nd cousin.

It's Odo who encouraged his move
and found him work.

What do we have here,
two lady's fingers to dip in coffee?

Love you long time, sugar-daddy.

Wanna have fun? got something
you're gonna like.

Aside from my friend.
You up for it?

Come on. We'll have good times!

Hi baby, want a date?

We're so hot, baby.
Oh! Don't touch me there...

But they like that...

Some other day I'll take you
to see real ladies.

And I'll take you up on that.

And above all, the nights
he spends with Mariela

in a room full of images
of saints and virgins

make them feel like they're
back in Lima or Oaxaca,

where she was born.

This attack of nostalgia
is neutralized

by a barrage of European dreams.

- ls there time for a shower?
- What there is, is a long line.

Did mention they have a jacuzzi?

Your employers'?
What, for their love games?

I'd bet my bottom dollar
it never gets used.

One day used a trick
saw in a police movie.

You go!

Pulled out a long hair,
moistened it with saliva

and hid it just next to the drain.

One week later it was still there.

Now you see what the jacuzzi's for.

Well, I'd use it daily to give
you pleasure in the bubbles.

And so they inherit a fantasy
that isn't theirs.

As agreed with Marcia,

Mariela goes every day
to the Lisboa's home.

Instead of cleaning
what isn't dirty

she passes the time pretending
she's the lady of the house.

Tired of getting lost in the maze
of channels on the satellite TV,

Mariela moves on to the video
of Carlota's wedding.

Mr. Lisboa called yesterday to say
they'll be back next Monday afternoon.

He says they'll spend
the day at home.

Apparently, his wife hasn't left
the room yet.

She doesn't want to be seen.

He goes out, but he doesn't go far.

And it's not due to a lack of friends.

When they travel
always get the keys.

He associates the home
of these rich people

with the mansions
in the soap operas,

with the fair skinned blondes
covered in bubbles

who always answer the phone
while in the tub.

Mariela, come.
What are you waiting for?

Mariela.

His heart pounds with
an unfamiliar excitement

Though briefly and in secret,

today he is coming to know
the face of luxury.

The water's so nice.

The bubbles tickle their way up
along his spine

and he feels more than excited
by this innocent privilege,

like children who
visit Disneyland.

The sound of the drier brings
them back to reality.

{?3 Saturday and they are
enjoying someone else home.

He likes looking at his body,
thin but sinuous, strong.

He looks like a gay icon

re?ected in the
mirror on the door.

A gift.

- Where'd you get those?
- Try them on.

Don't tell me you were snooping
through her drawers.

She's got so many, she won't miss
these. And they're so nice!

Of course she'll notice. Be careful.

They keep an eye on everything.
Put them back and forget it.

No.

Look, when this lady gets
breast implants and liposuction

all of her lingerie will be mine.

"For the best mom in the world

who cooks wonderfully, even when
she doesn't feel well. Carlota."

Be careful what you touch, love.
Don't leave fingerprints, please.

"Jorge Washington

was here."

He wonders where the
safe is hidden.

Get dressed,
Mr. Lazy-bones. Time to go.

No.

How many days will you be gone?

Odo said it's 3 weeks worth of work.

Get your jeans on.

Come on. Let's go.

No... not yet.

Just a little longer.

Little daddy looks like a cow-boy.
They make you more macho.

They make you very sexy

Look in the pockets.

It's the boss's Barca
club member season pass.

You still have time to make
the match. The stadium's right here.

VIP! These are prime seats!

Put me down! You'll kill me!

I'll wait for you to bring me the card
at the Wonder after the match.

Don't let me down. At the Wonder.

VIP seats!

Everyone walks faster

except Irina, who's
working tonight.

We'll let Jorge Washington
walk alone,

to mix with the multitude
and become one of them.

He is swept away by the crowd
and is grateful.

The green grass, so alive,

hypnotizes him with an explosion
of chlorophyll.

Irina only took from the house
what fits in her little suitcase.

Now, the house is full of memories
and that tortures me, swear.

Like they've cut off my hand
but still feel it.

He gets goose-bumps.

Claudia guesses and tries
a re?exive pose

that seems like an invitation
�Say something.

"Come on, don't be coy.
Come close and say something."

It's terrible. open a drawer
and find panties and bras.

Go to the bathroom and find
tweezers and compresses.

There are depilatory creams
and make-up remover.

Let's go?

And her stuff? Do wait for her
to come pick it up?

Will she pick it up?
Should touch it? don't know.

He takes an indecisive
step forward

but it's too late.

All that's left is a plastic bottle,
like a relic.

There's still a lip-stick trace.

His heart starts to beat quicker.

The psychiatrist told me 100 times

to get rid of my personality's
dead zones.

Dead zones.
Do you think have them?

He says to peel away my outer
layers, like was an onion.

That stranger seems more accessible
to him, like a toy.

knew it, for me...

sex is a thermometer measuring
the comfort in a stable relationship.

It happens to me
and don't notice...

It's her fault...

It's her fault...

With so many people about,
he can't get oriented.

don't understand why
he hasn't arrived.

An attack of nostalgia

takes him back to Sundays when

he watched
Spanish League matches on TV,

or played football in fields
around Lima.

Tomorrow he'll send
an e-mail saying

he finally visited the temple
of CF Barcelona.

The field where Cholo Sotil played,
remember?

The father of Johan Sotil.

And he'll talk of paradise.

The well-being
and opulence of paradise

where he lives with the other animals
who are licking their wounds.

Translation: Scott Clark

Subtitles: LASERFILM

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