Original subtitles

ON THE PREVIOUS SEASON

What's it mean to feel free?

I did what I had to do.

I ran away as if it were a fire.

Ofelia, do you know Tamara Tenenbaum?

Are you Jewish?

Yeah, I'm Jewish. You, too, right?

You guys think I hide my roots?

Sarita Levy invited me to her wedding.

I didn't choose to go from my mom's house to my husband's.

I clearly chose a different life.

-Are you serious? -I am.

The fact that she chose a different path casts doubt on my own.

I don't want doubts.

The real taboo is money.

I need the keys to zayde and bubbe's empty apartment.

My breakup isn't at all interesting.

Are you kidding me?

You had this terrible childhood, this tragic backstory,

so now no problem seems real to you.

You're holding lots of resentment.

You feel sorry for me for not leaving.

I'm sick of my mom, my sisters, my friends making demands of me.

Girls, I don't wanna sound dramatic,

but do you think Mora is a bit toxic?

You're just jealous. Why do you care if my girlfriend comes?

Does it bother you that we have your back?

I don't need to feel better! I'm perfectly fine!

Chaos has something I like.

All the debris.

Come if you want.

Don't you dare cry.

Why aren't you coming?

Because it's a Reform temple.

We have to rent out zayde and bubbe's apartment to pay for the nursing home.

You'll have to move out.

To love

is to give what you don't have to someone who isn't there.

Take charge of your freedom.

Knowing the world means learning how to lie.

Learning to change your clothes.

Blending in everywhere.

Pretending that, like the other girls, you think it's normal

for a boy to say hi and touch your waist.

Hey, Tam.

Even though it's been forbidden all your life.

The good thing is that you're left with a tingling sensation.

Total sensitivity.

Some sort of eternal surprise that other girls will never experience.

DEVOTE LIFE TO THE TRUTH

THE END OF LOVE

I don't have time to sign any papers, Mom.

It doesn't take any time, Tamara. I'm sending it by courier.

-You just have to sign it, honey. -When will you be back?

I'm leaving the AMIA now and heading to the courthouse.

Come on, help me out a little.

I am helping. I have an event and look at me.

I'm helping out, I don't know.

Who asked you to waste time on that process?

Know what, Tamara? Don't sign if you don't want to.

Do me a favor. Keep bubbe busy while I check on zayde.

You've been dragging this trial on for 20 years.

Let it go, Mom. Let it go.

Let it go. #LetItGo.

-Bye. -Bye.

You should've taken off your nail polish before you started cooking.

But I'm doing fine. Right, bubbe?

Did you chop the onions?

No. I thought I had to shred the chicken first.

My mother always made this soup with the leftover chicken from Shabbat.

Okay, so should I chop the onions?

-And the celery. -What celery?

You never mentioned celery.

It must've slipped my mind! It's fine.

I'll ask zayde to buy some.

Eliezer.

-Eliezer! -Bubbe, Bubbe...

He went out.

He's out. He must've gone to see a friend.

Zayde doesn't have any friends left.

We'll figure out the celery.

Can you chop the onions? I hate doing that.

-You chop the onions, honey. -Come on.

Hey, dude, I got the bills.

They're charging us a late fee for last month.

If you can make it, we'll be at Ladorada. It's their big reopening.

-What's wrong? Who are you arguing with? -Hi.

With no one, dude. But I feel like Ruthie. I feel like a mom.

-Because of Tamara? -Yes. She's careless.

How'd she manage on her own?

I don't know.

I don't know.

What's this? What are you doing with this?

Stop! You'll wrinkle it. It's my dad's.

I'm looking after of it.

-So you're still his slave? -Oh, no.

-Hi, Dad. -How are you?

We're about to go in.

Yeah. You sent me a dinner tray but I don't know what it is.

Well, eat the beans, Dad. Okay?

-See you. -Time for bed!

Bye!

Love you, girl. You bean slave.

We're here with Tamara Tenenbaum, author of the book of the year,

which has already sold out five printings if I'm not mistaken.

-Yes. -Yes.

Book of the year, at least when it comes to women's literature.

Author, literature professor, lawyer...

Am I forgetting any of your esteemed accomplishments?

There's more, but that's good for now.

Well, tell us what led you to write this book.

Well, at first it was just desire. You never know why you want to write.

But I wanted to jump into the conversation. I had a question.

Why have families changed so much and couples so little?

And why's that?

We talk a lot, right?

About families that break apart, families of friends,

single-parent families... We're pretty honest about that.

But couples, in general, are still two people.

Stable, monogamous...

At least that's what they say.

Are you calling us dishonest?

Is that what you're saying?

That couples are a dishonest social construct? Is that it?

I'll read this excerpt.

"What we call romantic love,

"the idea that a couple must be based on the mutual attraction

"of two people who are meant for each other,

"the most important ones in the world,

"is a very young institution when compared to its parent institution, marriage."

The girls want to meet Tam.

We'll have to introduce them to her.

In the past, people clearly didn't marry for love.

Are you saying that was better?

I don't know if it was better or worse.

More honest.

People knew that desire and marriage couldn't always go hand-in-hand.

Desire is changing, fickle.

How does a stable couple make that work?

A bit contradictory, right?

Didn't you say you and Mora were close friends now? I don't get it.

-Yeah. Very. -So?

Everything's cool with her.

I hope she gets her happily ever after.

Or in lesbian-speak, I hope she eats a massive lemon pie.

It's awful when she's seeing someone and I'm still single,

checking out who I can hook up with in her bar.

-Córdoba, honey. -Yes.

-Can I ask you a favor? -Sure.

Can you store this and I'll get it later?

Okay. No, go right in and grab her.

-Yeah? -You're family, please.

No, not anymore.

I spend more time here than at my mom's place, so I'm family.

-It's not the same. -Totally.

What's up with you? We're family.

-What's gotten into you? -I don't get it.

-What? -What's with you?

What's with this 20th-century rom-com reasoning?

-20th century? -Yeah!

-What? -What's that?

Whoever gets a partner first wins.

Squeeze together more.

-Can you see the book? -Yes.

There, perfect.

-There we go. -Done.

-I still had to sign one. -Mine.

Yours. Here we go.

Want to have dinner with us?

No, let her have some fun.

Just for a bit. Want a drink?

-Sure. A glass of wine. -Okay.

-Want a drink? -No, thanks.

-Thank you so much. -No, thank you.

-Nina loves me. -Yeah, she does.

Hey, what's up with him?

Who?

-Basualdo? -Basualdo.

The publisher assigned him. He's an author. Why?

Wasn't there anyone else? A woman, maybe?

What a purist. Feminist men exist, you know?

I know. And cool men also exist, but he's neither one of those things.

-Did he make me look bad? -No.

-You were impeccable. I swear. -Tell me the truth.

Sorry. May I steal her for a sec?

Okay? Thanks!

-Bye. -How'd you feel?

Wonderful, great.

-It was awesome, right? -Yeah. Really good.

It's like you've been doing this all your life.

-Well, I give talks and do radio. -No, no.

I mean, you're quick,

but not all feminists are so clearheaded.

Your tempo, your...

-Excuse me. Can you sign this? -Yeah.

-What name should I write? -Gustavo.

-Me. -Gustavo?

You're surprised.

Surprised that a man is interested in your discourse?

Well, men don't usually read me, or they underestimate me

or only come up to me to say that I don't get the male perspective.

That's what I was gonna say.

No, never mind. Forget it. It's a defense mechanism.

-Photo? -What?

-A photo. Yes. -Oh.

Just so it's clear that you also have male readers.

-Take another. I laughed at your joke. -Okay.

-There. -All right.

-Did you get it? -Yeah.

-Bye. -Bye.

-Listen, honey. -Yeah.

I'll give you a ride, but don't say goodbye to everyone.

-Look. We're walking now. -Yeah.

-Puff of smoke. -Puff of smoke.

Congratulations. It turned out great.

Thank you. It was hard, but we did it.

Thank you.

Juani, it's been ages. You looks gorgeous.

Yeah. Having dark circles under your eyes is trendy again.

I'm radiant!

You, too, Lau. You're beautiful, as always.

You, too.

This is Alexia, my girlfriend.

-A pleasure. -Nice to meet you.

-How's it going? -Nice to finally meet you.

What? Have you heard a lot about me?

-All good. -Yeah, all good.

You already knew Mora, but I bet she talks a lot about her, right?

No.

We're not together. We're friends.

Great friends from way back.

-Yeah. -Okay, okay.

-We're friends, not... -Okay.

-Let's toast. -Yeah.

-Lots to toast. -To the reopening.

And to Alexia and I becoming moms.

Wow, girls. That's incredible.

Moms. Congratulations.

-Thanks. -Thanks.

-Cheers. -Cheers.

That's great. You did it.

You know how much I wanted a baby girl.

-A girl, how lovely. -Yes.

-I'm glad. -Beautiful.

-That's great. -Congratulations.

Thank you.

I mean, can't you have a beer without anyone busting your balls?

Just one. The obstetrician said so.

-Yes. We're authorized. -Yes.

Look, this is it.

-Here, with the columns. -This one?

-The columns... -Great.

Look...

-Well... -Can I steal your bathroom for a sec?

Yeah. You don't have to steal it. I'll lend it to you.

Have you read that one?

It's an essay on the world of labor. Good stuff.

No, but I know the author. A real sleazebag.

What's up with your literary agency?

What's up with what?

I was thinking of getting an agent. What do you think?

Of course. Everyone wants women.

Right? My agent said he wouldn't take on any more men.

He can't sell them even if they're the new Proust. Go figure.

I'm writing a novel.

-So I could use one. -A feminist novel.

A novel.

A novel.

-Look, fiction is a different beast. -Yeah.

-Sure. -Yeah, you'll see...

Tam, you'll never guess what happened.

I bumped into Mora and her new girlfriend.

-This Alexia... -Lau.

Sorry. I didn't know you had company.

Could you get me one? A whiskey.

-Make it a double. -Thanks.

-Sure. -Thanks.

-Lau. -I get that people move on,

that life goes on. It's logical.

But did that bitch really get over everything so fast?

Lau...

-If you think... -Whiskey.

I'd really love to fill you in on the whole story,

give you all the details, but I'm too riled up right now.

-I need to talk to my friend. -Lau.

Should I leave?

Hey, dude. Can I go to your place?

Are you there now?

I'm sure she wants me to leave. She does this on purpose.

She's provoking me.

Look, Lau. When you have a girl over, does Tamara say anything? No.

-Right? -Well, that's different.

No. Why's it any different?

'Cause I'd never bring over the idiots she has over.

-You'd never have a dude over. -Never.

-And... -Well...

Let me tell you something.

This whole "heterosexuality out in the open"

-is kind of cringe. -That's what I mean.

-She should at least be ashamed. -A bit, yeah.

-Was that here? -Tamara. Has to be her.

-Not Tamara. -Yes.

Fucking hell, dude.

-Oh, Juani. -Mom?

-Oh, Juani. -What's wrong?

-What happened? -Juani, forgive me.

Juani, I don't know...

I couldn't stay at home.

-Hello, Lau. -Hello, Normi.

-Okay... -So I went out

-and walked and walked... -But...

-What happened? -And I ended up here!

-Give me a hug, Juani. -Okay, Mom. Okay.

I can't go on.

-Easy, Mom, easy. -I feel awful.

Tell us what happened, Mom.

I found that goblin of your father on Tinder.

But...

Why were you on Tinder in the first place?

Now you're judging me?

-Juana! -But you were both on Tinder.

-That's gerontophobia. -Hey, I'm not elderly.

No, no, Normi. I didn't mean... You're not elderly.

We're tired, we're drunk. I don't know what time it is.

And your daughter's a bit insensitive.

-Stop. I didn't say anything. -Juani, tell me.

-Tell me the truth. -Yes, okay.

Did you teach your dad how to use Tinder?

No! Of course not! Why would I teach him how to use Tinder?

It's gross. I wouldn't teach you, either.

You taught him how to use the microwave, so why not the app?

That's totally different, Mom.

I already took a sleeping pill.

Is it bad if I drink some wine? No, I'll have it.

You're the psychologist, Normi, but if I were you...

Calm down, Mom.

-Okay... You all right? -Perfect.

It's great your mom is putting herself out there.

She can get some compliments,

some pampering, something to boost her self-esteem.

-We all need it. -Yeah.

But I deleted it 'cause I didn't want to get pics...

What? Old men also send dick pics?

-Yeah. -You're fixated on age, dude.

-I mean... -You're making your mom feel rusty.

-I mean... -Listen, Normi.

-What? -Download the app again.

-I'll help you. -Help me. I don't know how.

It's okay. I'm exhausted.

Calm down, Mom. Okay? Relax.

I'm sure you won't want me to spend the night here.

Stop it. I didn't say anything.

You have to be careful so that

the feminist discourse

isn't appropriated by that neo-liberal paranoia

of social hygiene and control.

I mean it as a feminist.

That's precisely what I say in Chapter 3 of my book.

Really? I don't remember.

Listen. You got condoms?

If you don't have any, there's some in that dresser.

There's no hurry, right?

No, so they're within reach.

No, I'm not into that.

What aren't you into?

I'm not into...

Condoms make me go soft.

So you weren't stalling. You just weren't going to put one on.

Well, isn't this what we talked about? The value of honesty?

I'm being honest, right?

Right? These are my conditions.

Do whatever you want.

Hey, are you mad about Tam or are you mad at me?

I won't even ask about Mora's pregnancy. That bores me to death.

It's fine with Tamara. We know how she is.

And I'm cool with the pregnancy.

It simply confirms that I didn't make a mistake.

So you're mad at me?

Was it my mom?

No.

Come on! Tell me, dude.

No, dude. Did you really

have to laugh like that when Alexia thought we were dating?

Excuse me. Did you take me so she'd think that?

Yeah, well, I don't know...

-So you did? -No, you're crazy.

But denying it so emphatically, as if I were horrible.

You're offended!

-No. I'm not offended, dude. -You felt rejected, baby.

It wasn't funny! It wasn't funny.

I don't know. The situation was a bit bizarre.

Like a couples' dinner with all that adult bullshit chitchat.

Bullshit chitchat is what your mom's getting on Tinder.

Well...

God, she's crazy.

I love her.

You can have her.

Tam!

Tamara?

Tam...

-No! Knock! Knock first! -Oh, holy shit.

It's urgent. Sorry.

What's going on?

Your mom asked us to get you.

Your grandfather passed away.

How convenient.

Keep quiet. I don't want Basualdo to hear.

-Who? -I'm going to the bathroom.

-Good morning. -Good morning.

-Morning! -How are you?

What?

Don't you dare tell him or he'll want to come to the wake.

It's Ruthie. Wait.

-Hi, Ruthie. -Is Tamara coming or not?

I don't know.

Hold on a second.

Do you have anything less expensive?

Not in the new section, no.

Can you check in the old section?

Listen. Tell her that, if she comes soon, I'll be here, at the AMIA.

If not, she can go straight to the funeral home.

-Remind her to bring the papers. -Okay.

Hey, your mom said to bring the court documents.

-What a drag. -Come on.

-What court documents? -A procedure she has against the State.

About the AMIA. Nothing, some nonsense she and her lawyer have. What a bore.

-I'll get ready. What a drag. -The AMIA?

No, I was sure we'd already paid off the plot.

We paid tons of installments.

The price of the plot you reserved has gone up, ma'am.

Maybe I can find something cheaper in the older section.

CLAIMS

Ma'am?

-Ma'am. -Yes. Sorry.

-Are you okay? -Yes, yes.

Sorry. Being here brings back lots of memories.

My husband was killed while he was paying for a burial.

Right here, in...

In this very spot.

Well, not this very spot.

I mean the old building. Sorry.

She's my daughter, Dad! I decide what's best for her!

Why would you send her to a goy school?

It's not for goys! It's secular!

And the admission course is on Saturday.

You'll take her on Shabbat? With her backpack?

In plain view of everyone?

No one asked for your opinion.

If you tell me something, I'll give my opinion!

I'm telling you because I need help.

I can't leave the hospital early on Wednesdays to pick her up.

If you won't help, fine. Forget it. I'll figure it out with Mom.

It's not that I won't help, but listen to yourself.

Ruth, please.

I can't ask you for anything...

GUSTAVO LIKED YOUR PHOTO

The papers? Did you bring them?

Do we have to do this now?

Yes. You didn't bring the papers.

You just had to sign them and put them in your purse.

I really don't get it. We don't need that money.

I work, you work.

It's not about needing it.

The State accepts responsibility for the attack. It belongs to us.

Well, I don't care.

I don't want to do this or talk about this.

I don't want to play the victim. Can't you do it without me?

No.

When I filed the case, you were minors.

The lawyer filed it on our behalf.

Removing you from the claim now is a mess.

Excuse me, ma'am. I got a message from Rabbi Mordinsky.

He says he's on his way and he'll personally lead the service.

-Okay. Thank you. -You're welcome.

Listen, when the rabbi asks you to cut a piece of my clothing,

make sure you don't grab this. It's new.

Cut this one, the white bit.

Just cut a little bit, okay? I'll sew the hem later.

Mom, I'm not going to the burial.

I'll wait for the cars to leave and then I'm off.

What do you have to do?

Nothing. I don't have to do anything.

I promised myself I wouldn't go to zayde's burial.

He doesn't deserve it.

You're not doing it for him. You're doing it for me.

The family will be here soon, Rabbi.

How are David and your little girl?

She's not little anymore. Shuli is all grown up.

Here she is at gan. She's three.

Kol hakavod. She's a doll.

Here they come.

Hello.

-How are you? -Fine. And you?

-Fine, fine. -And Ruthie?

I think she's fine.

Isn't bubbe here?

No, bubbe doesn't know.

How come?

When zayde got sick, she didn't notice. Why tell her he's dead?

So you didn't tell her he died?

No.

-Hello, Ruthie. It's been so long. -Hello, Moti.

I wish we'd met in happier circumstances.

Thank you. How's your family?

Fine. Baruch Hashem.

-Is your brother coming? -No, no.

He's out of the country. He asked me to stream it.

No problem.

Where do you know the rabbi from?

From life.

Life?

We were classmates.

-He was my first boyfriend. -There it is. Of course.

Here's Tami. Aunt Raquel is back there.

Shall we start with the Kriah? The tearing of the cloth.

I forgot your name. Sorry.

-Tami. -Aunt Perla...

Mom, put away the iPad. It's time for the scissors.

Juana. Could you please record?

This is Juana.

-This is my brother in Israel. -Okay.

-Get everything. -Go ahead.

The scissors, Mom.

Ruthie's brother was very orthodox, but he isn't so much now.

Like me, I guess.

There it is.

-Let's see... -No, lower.

And just a little.

A little more.

-Okay, go ahead. -And Ruthie...

If you want to cut Tami's clothes,

-it'll have to be on the right side. -Okay.

No, no. No need. Thanks.

-Amen. -Amen.

Would anyone like to say a few words?

I would.

Dear Dad...

As your eldest child,

your only boy, on the day of your death, I want to

say something on behalf of your wife,

my sister, your granddaughters,

and the entire family.

I'd like to tell you that we apologize.

It's the Mechilah, a custom where we ask the dead for forgiveness.

I also want to say something else.

We forgive you.

Jaia, Ruthie,

Tami, Debi, Mijal and I.

We also forgive you.

He's improvising here.

For what you did to us.

For that time you kicked me out.

For all the times you yelled at Mom,

at your daughter, at your granddaughters.

For everything you did to us, which we'll never forget!

We also forgive you!

When I was little, I wanted to be a lawyer, like my dad.

My ambition was to be as ambitious as him.

He loved power.

From that, my takeaway was simply the desire to be read.

Mom says he would've let me study.

But never abandon our customs.

HE LIVED A RIGHTEOUS LIFE. HERE LIES A GOOD MAN.

HIS SOUL ASCENDED AMIDST THE STORM ON THE 10TH OF AV OF 5754.

I think we would've argued.

He would've forgiven me. Years later.

He would've been secretly proud of his daughter,

an author with delusions of grandeur.

And I...

I would have forgiven him.