All language subtitles for Yuli-English2

Good morning.

BASED ON THE LIFE OF CARLOS ACOSTA

AND THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY
NO WAY HOME

Yuli... Come on.

Come on, bro!

Go on, Yuli! Go on, Yuli!

You have to win, you have to win!
Come on, come on!

We're all ready.

Are you?

Right, I'm coming.

Right, folks, change of order.
We'll start the street scene.

Let's move it...

Yuli!

Yuli!

Tina!

- What is it?
- Have you seen Yuli?

No, no. I haven't seen him.

Lads, have any of you seen my son?

Damn it!

Cundo, I've seen you around with Yuli.
Do you know where he is?

No.

- There we go.
- Come on.

Go on, Yuli.

He's winning!

Hell! Let me through!

Hey, move over!

Get the hell up!

Get off him! Shit!

Come on, move it!
When will you start behaving?

Told you! I don't want you hanging around
with these wasters.

It's sore!

- You want to swing your arse?
- You're hurting me, Papi!

That's what you want, to strut your stuff?
Well, you'll see, wriggle your arse...

Good night.

Yuli, turn off the light.

Mami, where are we going?

Ask your dad...

- Good morning.
- We're here for the audition.

Boys, straighten the legs.

Look at that, all bent!
Come on! Stretch!

It should hurt, push till it hurts!
Stretch!

Look at the legs, bent again. Stretch!

Bend down, put your head to your knees.

Right down.

Let's go up.

Higher, Julia, higher.

That's it.

So you want to be a dancer, Carlos?

No, I don't.

- Yes, he does.
- No, I don't.

Yes, you do.

So what do you want to be?

A footballer, like Pele.

I want to wear boots, not panty-tights
like those faggots out there.

Now for the last little test.
Could you dance something for us,

- anything you like?
- No.

Dance.

No.

If you don't, me and you
will be dancing back at the house.

Listen...

This is one of the best ballet schools
in the world.

It's not months of discipline,
years of sacrifice. It's a way of life.

Not a job, but a vocation.

Listen, this is how it is.
We live so far out, in the outskirts.

It takes three buses in,
three buses back... Two hours each way.

He's still a child.

Yes.

I'm very sleepy in the mornings.

I began work when I was 9 years old.

I survived.

You can get up with me
in the mornings at 5. That's it!

The whole family has to be united,
totally committed to it.

Mami and Papi are divorced.

But we still live together.

Like cat and dog.

Carlos, most kids would give anything
to get into this school.

In no other place in the world
would you receive ballet classes,

schooling, all for free, even the food.
It's a luxury.

You have something special
which most kids don't have,

buckets of natural talent
from head to toe.

Let's do this.

You head home,
talk to your Mami and Papi,

and think about it, calmly.
Then we talk.

Will you do that for me?

No.

Turn off the light, Yuli.

Papi, I don't want to be a dancer.

I want to be normal.

Well, too bad, partner.

My friends will drop me, call me a faggot.

Don't worry.

The son of a tiger has the same stripes.

If they call you a poof, drop your pants,
show them your big dick like your Dad's

and tell them to go fuck themselves!

You are Yuli, son of Ogun, a Warrior God.

I gave him that nickname, not you!

Bullshit, Berta! You weren't even there.

I named you after an Indian brave
the day you were born. Yuli!

And you're going to be
the best ballet dancer in the world.

That's it!

Now shut up and get to sleep, all of you.

Carlos, I'll leave you this.

Thanks.

Can I?

Yes.

Your old man
must have loved you to pieces.

In his own way.

On his own terms.

One, two, push to the floor, three,

four, stretch.

Six, seven,

eight... And one,

two,

three... Chin up!

Four,

five,

six, seven...

Carlos, please.

And one, two, three, four,

five, six, seven, eight.
Tummies in!

Ah, Mami! Is she coming or not?

Ah, God, you are all so impatient!
She said she was coming.

You've been saying that
for over half an hour!

Do you think we'll all fit in?

They always take Berta.

You're a pain.

Listen, your aunt tries her best.
That's enough.

Children! No, no, no.
Let's see how much space. Carlos!

You two, out.

But why?

I can only take Berta.

We're all squeezed up too tight.

Told you! You always bring her.

I'm really sorry...

The next time we go to the beach,
the first will be you two.

Liar.

Come here, darling...

For God's sake...

Listen, love, we have to talk
about something important, very important.

- What happened?
- No, don't worry. We'll talk.

Don't worry.

Let's go.

I spent the afternoon with my sister.

They're all leaving,
fares paid, papers organized.

They'll make their way to Venezuela,
then to Miami.

Perfect place for her.

But she's taking Mum with her, Pedro.

They...

Mireya wants to...

bring me and Berta with them too,

and leave Marilin and Carlos
here with you.

What?

What are you saying?

Pedro, if I stay,
I'll never see my mother again.

So what are you going to do?
Yuli and Marilin are your children too!

Papi, is Mami going to leave us?

Sleep, Yuli, sleep.

It's very late, son.

Tell me if she is going to leave us?

Now, faster!

Do you hear me?

Watch where you're going! Pay attention,
in front of you, son! Watch! Watch!

Are you drunk or something?

Papi! We're going to crash!

Acosta.

Is it our surname?

Do you see that bell up there?

It dictated everything here
in the plantation.

The Acosta plantation.

If a slave ran off,
they hunted him down with dogs.

An ounce of gold
for each slave captured and returned.

They prized strong black slaves
like your great grandpa.

They forced them
to have sex with healthy women.

Bred us like animals for gain.

They lived in barracoons,
eaten away by fleas,

one door to lock them in,

one window for air...

They even whipped pregnant women,

laid them down over a scooped out hole
to protect their bellies.

The cruelest treatment were the stocks.

Thick planks with holes.
They would stick their head,

arms and feet through the planks

and leave them there for months on end.

How do you know all this, Papi?

My mother, your grandmother,
was born to a slave on this plantation.

350 years of slavery
runs through our veins.

It leaves its mark.

In our heads, in our hearts...

Including the name.

Acosta.

Still dividing families to this day.

Like me and my half-sister Berta.

They want to bring her to Miami
because she's white.

But we survived, son.

Even in these places

we sang, danced, resisted, kept our Gods.

We remember to make us stronger,
more determined, hard as nails...

We were, and we are, warriors.

Sons of Ogun! Yuli.

That's what we are. Warriors.

You are beautiful, my son, inside and out.

Nobody and nothing
can hold you back. Ever.

Take it easy, guys,
you are something else.

Carlos, this Acosta plantation,
where is it?

By Pinar del Rio, in San Juan y Martinez.

But you know what?
My father never brought me there.

You're joking!

Yes, it's all fiction.

It never happened.
But it is all the truth.

My grandmother was born to a slave
on the Acosta plantation.

As a kid I used to imagine
my great Grandfather as a runaway slave,

chased by the dogs,

fighting the hunters, stuck in the stocks,
being whipped, or worse.

My father didn't know his own father,

his mother gave him
many a beating, often cruel,

but if all this past and present was mixed
up inside the head of my old man.

Although it didn't happen this way,

the question is,
does that mean it isn't the truth?

But, Carlos, are you going to tell us
what is reality, and what isn't?

Do you always know the difference?

If you are going to try and tell
the story of your life, really go for it.

You have to go deep,
where the big fish lie.

Girls, a quick goodbye.
Can't wait long.

Let's go, we could miss the plane.

If you change your mind,
it's not too late.

We can wait for you and Berta
in Venezuela.

I can't.

OK, Maria, OK. That's it. Time.

- Don't forget me.
- Promise me you'll take care of yourself.

Take care. Look after yourself.
I'll never forget you, my love.

Ah, look at the fairy! Look!

I hear you became a faggot!

Pansy boy!

Arms in position, legs stretched,

lift the chin, shoulders down...

Slowly, three, four... That's it!

Five.

Seven, eight...

Turn to the bar.

Four, don't hang on the bar.

Carlos Acosta!
Come back here immediately!

Where's that kid going?

Don't let him out!

Back from there. You're going to fall.

Yuli!

All this was built
on a private golf course.

Fidel and Che played the last game of golf
here just after the revolution.

Fidel had the dream of transforming it

into the most spectacular
City of the Arts in the world.

Music, dance...

And here we are
in what was to be the ballet school...

Follow me.

Garatti, the architect,
was inspired by the spirit of the times,

by the revolution...

Multiple entrances and exits,

open to possibility,

flowing, sweeping and interconnected,

bold and imaginative.

I was a volunteer student working here

till construction was cut short in '65,
just a few weeks short of completion.

Times changed.

We had the Bay of Pigs,

sabotage, assassination attempts,
the economic embargo, hardship...

The Soviets moved in,
political space shrank.

All this designated "non productive"
by the Russian advisors

and never used.

It's so sad, one of the most inspiring
buildings in the world falling to pieces.

Is it possible to rebuild it?

Hey, kid! What a fright you gave me!
Who are you?

Rambo.

PRISON COMBINADO DEL ESTE

I'll get out soon, don't worry.

It'll all work out fine.

How's your Mami?

Don't worry, Papi,
we're taking good care of her.

Aren't we?

- Yes.
- Yes.

I'm so proud of you all.

And you, Berta, how are you?

Fine.

- And you, Marilin?
- Fine.

Fine, fine... Is that all you can tell me?

We had to sell the fridge.

What? The fridge?

Shit!

Faggot!

You bloody clown, go fuck yourself!

Screw you!

Carlos Acosta!

The concert starts in 40 minutes!

Look at yourself!

Move it!

Open the door.

Look at your hands!
Don't dare touch a thing. A mud bath!

You're stinking, filthy!

You promised to come!

Are you not ashamed of yourself?

Letting us down and your classmates.

Let me see your face.

And your Dad? Just you wait!

When he finds out?!

We were calling his work.
Nobody knew anything.

He's in prison.

- What?
- What!

I'm up to here with your stories!

Such a liar,
you've missed half the classes

and always ready with a new excuse!

It's not a lie.

A motorbike crashed
into the back of Papi's lorry.

The boy was killed, and they blamed Papi.

And your Mami?

And your Mami, Carlos?

She's ill.

I'm sorry, sweetheart, really sorry.

But you know what we can do now?

We can take a photo, eh?

You can show it to your parents
and it'll cheer them up.

Look.

You are going to look gorgeous.

I'll look like a faggot.

Move it! Run!

Come on, Carlos, run, you're so late!

At last! Here he is!
Silence! Silence! In position!

You're a disaster.

And you stink!

Holy shit, boy!

Look at the way you hold yourself,
that neck, the smile...

Real talent, my God.

Born to dance, son.

I played the main role.

Tell me, are you going to your classes?

Yes. Up at the crack of dawn.

Don't want to let you down.

And I'm in the top 5 best students
of the school.

You don't say... And are you on time?

Yes. They say it's the biggest turnaround
in the history of the school.

- Even the teachers can hardly believe it.
- Yuli, are you telling me the truth?

Yes.

Come here, son.

Come here I said... Come.

I'm so proud of you, my boy.

You're going to be great one day, son.
Right up there, damn it.

The Gods answered my prayers.

What a load of bullshit!

I was talking and talking
and couldn't stop.

I just tried to cheer him up.

"Biggest turn around"!

When he gets out and learns the truth,
he's going to kill you.

You're dead.

Come here!

There!

Pedro!

Leave him, Pedro!

- Pedro, please!
- Papi, leave him!

Pedro, leave him!
You're going to kill him.

Leave him!

Pedro!

You're killing my child...

Stop it, Papi!

Open the door!

Open the door, for God's sake!

Open the door!

What did he do to you, love?

It's OK.

I'm here, my love.

My love...

It's OK, my love... OK.

Son of a bitch! I hate you!

Chery, this doesn't make sense
for anyone.

For the teachers,
for the students, nor for him.

Look, there is a serious problem
of truancy and suspensions.

That's the problem, Carlos,
you just don't want to dance.

- Yes, he does!
- Let the boy answer for himself! Please!

This child was born to dance!
He just doesn't know it yet!

Do you ever listen to your son?

You have to understand
the family situation has been tough.

Pedro has just been released from prison

and Carlos has been cared
for by his two sisters,

practically children themselves.

I understand all that... My opinion
is that we are just wasting time.

We won't cross paths
with a boy like this again.

Pedro, can you give us a few minutes,
please, and wait outside?

For a man like me,
this is very difficult...

I'm going to beg
for the first and last time in my life.

I know what is inside him.

I beg you to give this child
one last chance.

Let's go.

When I was 25

one day I sneaked into the cinema.

On a big silver screen...

there were delicate figures
like parasols up there...

Suddenly they made mighty leaps,

full of strength...

It all got me, deep inside.

I didn't know what it was.

I forgot my work and my shitty life.

I felt it here, in my chest,
as if it was part of me.

The police arrived,

they dragged me out
and gave a beating.

Blacks couldn't go to the cinema.

I fought back
and they beat me with their truncheons.

Yuli,

I would prefer to take a beating
every day for the rest of my life...

than see you waste your talent.

There's no sense in him staying here.

But there is one last chance
to continue dancing.

An ESBEC.

What's that?

A boarding school in the countryside.

Pinar del Rio.

Drag me from home?
No, Papi! Tell her no!

I've got a home... I want to stay here.

Carlos, this is your last chance.

No! No, Papi! Tell her no!

Most of us, son, are "stuck".

Not you...

Tell her no!

You have a star to follow.

Carlos, they'll treat you well.

Papi, tell her no! Please!

Chery, thank you.

I'll never forget
what you are doing for my son.

Mario, this part...

I want you to open up. Understand?

Really go for it, raw, hard...
really hurts inside, get me?

Pain... loneliness...

Do you know how I put it?

"That Wednesday feeling".

Wednesday was the only day
families could visit their kids.

But my father was always away
in his lorry, my mother was ill...

I felt so alone in the enormity of it all.

It's a loneliness I've felt all my life,

even today as a man, it's inside.

Loneliness never really leaves you.

Acosta! Acosta!

That's mine!

What are you doing snooping in my locker?
Acosta!

Silence, please, silence.

This morning, as a priority, we are going
to deal with a serious situation.

A number of students have been witnesses
and denounced the incident.

But we are going to listen to the pioneer
who has something to say. OK?

Carlos Acosta, we are all waiting for you.

Tell your classmates. What are you?

You're a thief!

- And you're filthy!
- And stink too!

Come on... Give it to them.

Look at that!

Look at his face.

Fuck! Fuck!
Always at the key moment...

Fucking piece of shit!

Fuck!

So many of them...

He's going to win...

Quiet! Damn it!

My God.

Look!

He's done it!

I told you! I told you!

We've got to celebrate!

Yuli's won the World Cup!

Your son... Your son... He cracked it.

It's about Yuli, Berta, he won
a really important prize in Switzerland.

Do you understand?

Do you understand?

This is
like the first black man on the moon!

There were about 500 competitors!

But when the black boy appeared...
He nailed it! Game over!

Yuli!

That's great, Mami.

He'll spend his life far away from us now.

Just like Mami.

Very good, Carlos, much better.

But remember in the second part,
with more power, more.

OK, now the duo.

Isabelle, come on.

Thank you, teacher.

"GOLDEN MULATO
WINS SCHOLARSHIP IN TURIN"

Come on, Pedro, we're about to finish.

How are you all doing?

How are you?

Are we going?

I wish Papi and Mami could see this.

My sisters, my friends, everybody...

How did all this happen, teacher?

The public...

Every seat full...

Eyes fixed on you...

Moments of wonder that will stick
in their memories for ever...

The music, colour,

light, youth,

beauty...

A privilege to have this life, Carlos.

You can become a great dancer.

I know that... but the question is,
can you become a great artist?

Teacher, I'm working as hard as I can.

I don't mean that.

It's what you carry inside.

Who you are.

How deep
you're prepared to go inside yourself...

And the courage you have.

- Bye. See you tomorrow.
- Bye. See you tomorrow.

One last thing before we leave... London.

London? What about London?

The English National Ballet
has offered you a contract.

What?

A contract in London?

Yes.

They have the best schools,
the best dancers, the best teachers...

Thank you.

No, teacher, I didn't mean that.

I don't think I'm good enough...

Carlos...

Talent, intelligence, and determination...
you can't buy them.

They are free, darling.

Mami says you are to come quick.

- Yuli is on the phone.
- What's wrong?

Don't know.

What can I do in England with no English?

Dancing, eating, fucking,
you don't need grammar for all that!

What happened? What's he saying?

They want him as a Principal Dancer
at the English National Ballet in London.

And the bloody clown
wants to come back home.

Papi, you don't know
how the Cuban National Ballet could react.

Just in case you haven't looked
in the mirror recently, you're black!

A chance of a lifetime!

A black man seizes a prize like this
in two hands,

and never lets go
even if they try to kill him!

Papi,
I'm going to miss you all so much.

No, Papi.

Shit!
Forget about us, forget everything...

Forget Cuba...

No, Papi. You know I can't do that.

The best way to help us is to move on.

Listen, one day this country
will lay out the red carpet for you.

How's Berta?

Berta?

Berta's fine.

We're all fine, perfect,
don't worry about us, son.

Papi, you know I can't do that,
don't ask me that.

Do what you're told. Here's your Mami.

When are you coming home, son?

Holy shit!

You accept the contract,
accept the ticket.

But did you get permission from Cuba?

I've decided
you go straight to London from Turin.

But, teacher, did you ask permission?

I'll sort it out when I get back.
If you go back home...

They'll crucify you! No, no, no!
Call you a traitor at the very least!

No, no, I'm coming back with you.

Andres Williams.
You know who I'm talking about?

One of the greatest I ever saw...

but black. No Romeo for him.

You could be in a queue
for a lifetime waiting your turn...

or you can break new ground.

Teacher, they could kick you of your job.

Or even worse, cast aside.

Let me worry about that.

No, teacher, no!

This moment
could change your life for ever.

You might not get
a chance like this again, Carlos.

If something happens to you, teacher,
I'll never forgive myself.

If you don't use that talent,
I'll never forgive myself.

Teacher. I'm scared.

Carlos...

Dancers dance,

but artists take risks.

Feel like I have
the whole of Cuba on my back, teacher.

I don't want to let her down.

You have the right to fail,
that's how you learn.

It's a great achievement
to have been accepted, enjoy it, darling.

Leave me alone.

We found her naked
screaming in the street.

They mentioned schizophrenia.

We will have to instruct the Border Guards

not to block the exit

to crafts wanting to travel to the USA.

Go ahead, seat the girl first.
The girl goes first.

I have nothing to feed my kids with.
I have to feed them.

Thank you.

My friend,
can you give me a few coins?

Kid, do you not remember me? I'm Yuli!

It's me, Yuli.

Yuli!

Look, everybody, it's Yuli!

Ah, my son!

Ah, Mami. How are you?

Ah, my child!

How I've missed you, Mami.

Let me see you... So handsome.

How's Berta?

Berta is better, love.

Tomorrow we'll see her in hospital.

Darling!

Look at him.

Is it true it's always raining?

Almost.

But the worst is the cold and damp.

So how's your foot, Yuli?

They gave you stitches?

They removed a bone splinter.
Seven stitches.

It hurt like hell...

That's nothing. In military service
I fucked my ankle... Look.

As far as I know, you are not
a ballet dancer, is that right?

How did it happen?

One day during a rehearsal...

I was a bit homesick, feeling down...

Thinking about you all...

I lost concentration and landed badly.

"Feeling down".

- Papi...
- Great...

- Enough.
- "Down".

Please, he's just landed.

Moaning, moaning...
Missing this, missing that...

Papi, what's wrong?

Too wet, too cold, too dark... Fuck me!

Pedro!

Risking your whole career
for nostalgic bullshit!

I told you to forget about us!

All you care about
is this fucking pigsty!

Sometimes I wonder
if you deserve your God-given talent!

Talent!

Fucking talent dragged me
from home age 1 1!

Against my will.

And so you know, I don't care
if I ever dance again! I hate it!

Hate it!

I lost my life to fucking ballet!

Did you ever ask yourself
what makes me happy? Me! Eh?

- Has that ever passed through your brain?
- Happiness? What the fuck is happiness?

To be with my family, with Mami, with you,

taking care of my sisters...

To feel needed.

An ordinary life.

A family, a home.

Dance is your home.

- Art is your home.
- You stole my childhood.

How sweet. Sentimental hokum

for the feeble minded!
You've learned fuck all.

Papi, sometimes I hate you...

- What are you saying?
- I hate you, that's the truth.

Well, you listen to me.

I prefer hate
to the very last day of your life,

instead of your soppy bullshit, bonehead.

Fuck off!

What?

Be careful... or I'll split you in two.

Careful, Yuli, careful.

Right, folks, I've got some notes for you.

What's this, Carlos?
Another of your inventions?

What inventions?

Smedley existed,
and those are his very words.

Sorry, Carlos, I'm trying to think,

but I don't see
what it has to do with your life.

Good, you keep thinking
and I'll keep rehearsing.

Let's move on.
Julio, this time it was spectacular.

Don't stop, you dickhead. Go on!

- Listen to me. Ignore them. Listen to me.
- Stop, stop.

Where are your papers?

Opito, the glove compartment,
grab the papers.

I won't give these fuckers
a single penny.

I'm not giving them a penny...
Going to give them some bars of soap.

I'd give them fuck all.

Opito, I've got more at home,
give me the soap.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

Just a moment.

- Good evening, good evening.
- Can I go in or not?

Good evening.

- It's full to capacity.
- Where are these people going to?

Shut for us, not for them.

Who owns the country?

Cubans, or these fucking tourists?

Look, son, keep out of trouble.

- Hands off me! Don't touch me!
- Mind yourself.

- Please, leave now.
- Don't touch me!

We're going in.

- Cool it, boys.
- Opito, easy, one second.

Tell me, what do you want?

Listen, man, damn,
we're brothers, or not?

We are... So what?

Listen, all we want to do is kick back,

relax a little in the hotel...
Give us a break, eh?

Maybe this will help...

What is this?

Just a little something
to keep you going...

Are you trying
to bribe a state functionary?

Not a bribe, just a little help.

Piss off to Miami!

What a prick!
And these guys here? Eh?

And this low-life who came to screw
our youngsters, fuck our children?

And you treat them like lords!
You're a cheap scumbag!

Let's go.

After you've been away so long,
you're not from here, nor from there...

Well...

How long are you going to stay?

Do you know what really gets me?

Kids begging in the street, from me,
as if I were a stranger.

I must be the only Cuban
who wants to stay here.

Everybody I speak to wants to leave.

Opito and Ramon
are building a raft to get out.

Have they gone mad?

Brother, you're not chancing it.

- Don't preach to me, no sermons...
- No fucking way, no, brother, no way.

Don't preach to me.

Easy to preach in your fancy cloths,
with your cash, you can travel...

Totally mad! What the fuck's going on?
Are you crazy?

It's no bed of roses outside Cuba...

Isn't?

If you don't have money or contacts,
they treat you like shit, a nobody.

If you get ill,
you'll drop dead, nobody bothers...

And here?

And here, Yuli?

It's a shithole, brother!

You have choices, you can live
from your work, as it should be.

Not me.

I work like a dog day and night,

up and down on my taxi-bike...
My family are starving.

I leave home every morning
and I don't know

if I'll be able to bring
them back something to eat...

But there's got
to be another way, brother.

What other ways? Tell me?

Every time I see the leaders
of this fucking mess on TV,

fattening themselves like pigs...

and me, like a prick up and down
on my taxi bike. Every day.

So what other way?

The only thing I have
in the whole world to gamble with...

The only thing I can count on,
that's really mine,

is my life.

Give me some time, brother,
and I'll help you...

Leave it, forget all this shit, brother.

Where's that white chick? She's gorgeous.

Fucking shithole!

Is there no way
to have a good time here?

No more lights... Once again...

You don't answer my calls.

And you're fat.

Thank you.

Your father has been calling me.

You've broken his heart.

He's got a heart?

Ah, teacher... I've got my life back.

I'm fine.

Yes, so I see.

Are you not ashamed
to throw it all away?

Teacher, I've enjoyed myself more
in these last few months

than in my whole life! That's it!

And when the money runs out?

Look, even if I wanted to,

which I don't,

I don't know if my ankle will take it.

- You won't know till you try.
- Teacher, it's over!

I've given ballet all I've got. It's done!

And Houston Ballet?

The United States?

You know they won't give me
permission here to work there.

Maybe you're right...

Teacher, who wants me there?

You said your ankle wouldn't take it?

Damn it, tell me!

A good man.

An excellent choreographer and director.

I want to see you for rehearsal
tomorrow morning at the studio.

And it's not just about you.

Here we go again,
the whole of Cuba on my back.

Listen, boy,
a little consideration for others,

we have given you everything,
for nothing in return!

Shit!
Sometimes I want to knock your head off!

What a brute you are!

And if I can't?

If I'm not good enough?

Listen, Carlos...

Sometimes in life
things don't work out as we hope.

All you can do, son,
is work hard like you always have done.

I'll see you
in the studio tomorrow morning.

The Director will receive you in a moment.

HEAD OF THE NATIONAL CUBAN BALLET

Two.

One,

and two.

To the bar.

Five, six,

seven, ready, eight.

And one.

Hey, kid, come here.

Are you Carlos Acosta?

Yes.

I saw you on the TV.

That's why I'm here.

Have you come to give a class?

No, kid.

He's off to the big league.

OK, to your class.

No skiving and work!

Silence, please.

Papi, if she doesn't give me permission,
I won't go.

- Yuli...
- No, Papi, no.

If she doesn't give me permission,
I won't be allowed back home.

That would kill me, Papi.

THE FIRST BLACK ROMEO
IN THE ROYAL BALLET, MY SON YULI

Teacher...

Thanks for coming.

I came to wish you luck.

Ah, teacher, like always. Like always.

All the tickets sold out,
half of Havana will be here tomorrow.

Just wish your Papi could have been here.

Remember him in Soho?

He was so proud of you.

There are three secrets
of why we are here today in London.

First, this lady, and all the rice
and beans she gave him as a boy.

Second,

his talent,

which he inherited from me.

And third, Chery,
and the Cuban School of ballet.

For a black kid like him,

son of a black lorry driver like me,
grandson of a slave,

he would have survived
the roaring fires of hell

before getting
into ballet school anywhere else.

My son,

I have a confession to make.

I know that I made you suffer, so much.

After years of sacrifice,

today you are an artist,
you followed your star.

Your friends here tell me

that when you retire from dance
they want you to stay here.

London will be your home,

your base to conquer the world.

The happiest day of my life
was the day you were born.

Let's toast.

Thank you everyone,
especially my child Yuli,

named after a warrior, son of Ogun.

YOUR KIDS WILL NOT FORGET YOU

Thank you, Papi.

But you were wrong.

London is not my home.

I am from here.

I've founded my company here,
and one day I'll open up that old school.

I can only give, what I am.

I am your son,

son of Pedro Acosta,
the lorry driver Pedro Acosta.

Son of Ogun,

that's me, who I am.