All language subtitles for Shadows.In.The.Sun.2005.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-ESub-English

- You wanted to see me, sir?
- You read the times this morning?

Avershays Press announced
the deal with Irving Gattinger.

- Gattinger said he was done with writing.
- Yes.

- He hasn't written a book in 10 years.
- It's a brilliant move.

Based on name recognition alone
it'll be an instant bestseller.

Yes.

What do you think about
Weldon Parish?

Parish is one of my
personal favorites.

Are you thinking of signing him? The
man hasn't written anything in 20 years.

All the more reason.
What do you know about him?

Um.. Weldon Parish. He left
Unites States in the mid-1980s.

Moved to a small Italian village and after
his wife died, he simply gave up writing.

- He's become reckless. He doesn't even give interviews.
- Mmm.

If we could sign Weldon Parish. We
would set the publishing world on its ears.

I want you to go to Italy
and talk to him.

Mr. Benton with all due respect, and
believe me, no one would like to see a.

Weldon Parish novel more than
myself, it's just not going to happen.

The people have tried, the man
is just not interested in writing.

Well, I expect you
to make him interested.

Have a nice trip.
Goodbye Jeremy.

Hi...

A veti una stanza,
con una banio?

- All the rooms have a private bathroom.
- Ah. You speak English.

Does it sound like English?

- Yes?
- There you go.

Great. Look, I have some
bags in the car. Excuse me?

I have a couple
more bags in the car.

- Well.
- Okay, thank you.

Are you kidding? I carried the
bags.

I opened the door.

You opened the door... OK.

- Is the room OK?
- Ugh yes. The room itself is fine, but..

There is a hmm..

- There is a couple next door to me and they are...
- Screwing.

- Yes.
- They come here every chance they get for privacy.

Huh.. Anyway. I am actually in
town looking for Weldon Parish.

You wouldn't by any chance
know him, would you?

No.

- Well, any idea where he lives?
- No?

No? Really?
He's lived here for 20 years,

and you don't know him, and
you have no idea where he lives.

- Yes.
- Right.

OK...

Weldon Parish?

Excuse me. Do you know
where I can find Weldon Parish?

Dove Weldon Parish?

Weldon Parish?

OK... Hello Mr. Parish,
my name is Jeremy Taylor.

Hello, Mr. Parish.

Hi, Mr. Parish, my name is Jeremy
Taylor. Pearce Learner Publishing.

- Hey, Weldon, I am Jeremy.
- He is not here.

I just thought I would tell you so you wouldn't
waste the whole day talking to the door.

- Are you a reporter?
- Me? No. Why?

Cause papa hates reporters.

He says they are
the lowest form of human life.

My name is Jeremy Taylor, I am an
editor with Pearce Learner Publishing.

That's even worse.

He says that editors don't even
qualify as human life.

Oh... Well, it can't hurt to talk to
him, can it? No, it could hurt very much.

The last editor who came here, he
chased down to the water with an ax.

OK. Well, I'll take my chances
if you don't mind.

OK. He is around the back,
in the cellar.

- Excuse me? I didn't catch your name.
- Isabella.

Mr. Parish?

Mr. Parish, my name is Jeremy Taylor.
I'm with Pearce Learner Publishing.

I have to say this is
a great honor for me, sir.

What?

Yes, I know he is here.
He is talking to me.

Can't you see
he is talking to me?

Who are you talking to? The King of the
Elfin Realm. The all-knowing little one.

I am having Spam for lunch. Do
you like Spam? I like mine with raisins.

Umm, you are Weldon Parish.

The writer.

They say I am.

Were you looking
for someone else?

Yes, I think I was.

OK, OK. Hold on a second.

Did you find him?

Yes, I found him.

What happened to him?

No one really knows.
His mind just broke.

- That's why everyone protects him?
- Si.

It's just such a waste.

Hmm, I want to check out
in the morning, if that's OK?

He just came in, no! He thinks
you are completely crazy, Weldon.

He is leaving tomorrow, OK?
Ciao, ciao.

That's a pretty elaborate ploy to
get me to go away, don't you think?

Apparently it wasn't
elaborate enough.

- Mr. Parish, I came a long way to see you.
- I didn't ask you to.

See ya.

Do you know what
"go away" means?

All I am asking for is
a few minutes of your time.

You are not going
to go away, are you?

I am sorry to be so persistent, but nobody ever
got anywhere by taking "no" for an answer right?

Alright. Make your pitch.

As I said before, I am with
Pearce Learner Publishing.

A place where we pride ourselves in being
able to work with creative individuals.

We believe in bringing
the writer's vision to the page.

And as a writer myself, I
understand, how important that is.

What do you write?

Umm, well, I am actually still
working on my first novel.

I don't even know if it's any good, but I
have always dreamed of being a writer.

And being a writer,
you think you can understand me?

- Well, Yes.
- Well, you can't.

Actually, Mr. Parish, I think
if you were to give me... Look.

You made your pitch.
I am not interested.

- But I am not finished.
- Yes, you are.

That's Bruno. Bruno dislikes
strangers more than I do.

- Now would be a good time to start running.
- What?

Oh my, oh my god!

- Hello?
- Ah, Jeremy. How's it going over there?

- Hello sir. Not well.
- Well, did you meet him?

- Oh yes. Yes, I've met him.
- What's he like?

The word "unstable"
comes to mind.

Well, show me an artist
who isn't, eh?

Well, I think I can say with
a great deal of confidence,

that the man is not
interested in writing.

Well, it is up to you
to convince him.

I am expecting results, Jeremy.

Jeremy? Jeremy, are you there?

Yes, yes. I am sorry. I am
still here, but you know what?

Si. Si. Si...

Ciao.

- Hi!
- Hi

I heard about what
happened this afternoon.

Dog... Yeah,
your father is a very funny man.

I am so sorry.
I tried to warn you.

So... Where are you going?

Well I was actually just
looking for a place to eat.

Oh, OK.
Well there is only one place.

You would like that I take you?

- Yes. Yes, I would.
- Come.

Have you decided?

- No, we haven't seen the menus yet.
- There is no menu.

Only specials.

OK, then what are the specials?

Mixed green salad,
and Spaghetti with Pesto.

- Anything else?
- No.

- Excellent choice. Isabella?
- I've eaten.

You know, if you've eaten, you
really don't have to stay here with me.

No, people shouldn't eat alone.

I eat alone all the time,
so I am used to it.

You changed your hair.
It looks good.

Really? Thank you.

So, Isabella.
What is it that you do here?

I work with my horses,
I work with the vineyard.

Well that doesn't sound
too bad to me.

Your father seems
to have adapted well.

Well, my father is not
an ordinary man.

Why do you want
him to write so bad?

- Well, honestly?
- Mmm.

When I was 12 years old,
I broke my collar bone.

So I had to stay in bed for 5 weeks,
and I don't know if you have ever tried,

but it's not easy to keep a
12 year old in bed for 5 weeks.

One day my aunt brings
me a book.

"The Shadow Dancer"
by Weldon Parish.

And, as I am reading this book,

Something absolutely
miraculous happens to me.

I am transported into
a different world,

and every day for 5 weeks,
I lived through those words.

And to have the talent to instill
those kinds of feelings to other people,

is a gift, and, it just,
should not be wasted.

- You should have spoken to him like that.
- Like what?

I see the passion that you have for
his work. You should have let him see it.

- Well, I tried.
- No, you tried to sell him. And I know my father.

He responds to honesty. You
should have tried using some.

If you want another chance?

He'll be at "Carina's letter".
Umm, it's a bar just outside of town.

You wouldn't have the straight.

That, my dear friend,
you'll have to pay to find out.

Now this is interesting.
You are acting like you have it.

You are trying to make me
believe you have it.

- So?
- So, in a way you are lying.

- Priest shouldn't lie, Giovanni.
- There is no lying in poker.

There is only bluffing.
And God forgives bluffing.

What? I can't come have
a drink at the bar?

You could have
a drink at the hotel.

Well, I would have,
but there is no one there.

Well boo hoo.

Why don't you let me
buy you a drink?

Just so you know there is no
hard feelings about today.

Thank you.

- Salute!
- Salute!

Salute.

- OK. Why don't you ask me, then you can go.
- Ask what?

The question that's burning a hole in your
little brain. "Why did I stop writing?"

- OK. Why did you stop writing?
- I didn't have anything else to say, Ollie.

OK? It's that simple.
Now, you can go.

- A writer always has something to say.
- Oh, now you are an authority?

How the hell do you know
what I have to say?

I don't remember anything
about a conversation.

Well, the mere act of accepting
an invitation to have a drink,

implies a certain degree
of conversation.

- I hope you don't write like you talk.
- Why? How do I talk?

Like an uptight jockstrap.

- OK. Well what would you have said?
- Actually, I wouldn't have

said anything. I would've gotten
the hint about not wanting to talk.

You are not one of those lampy pampy guys
that nurses a drink all night, are you?

Very Impressive.
OK, hasta la bye bye.

No, I bought this bottle of
wine, and I intend on finishing it.

See you guys tomorrow.

What do you mean,
"See you guys tomorrow"?

You said you were
going back to London.

No, you said I was
going back to London.

Hey kid, you're too.
You've had too much to drink.

We'll just drive you back to the
hotel. Come on. Come on. Come on.

Hay, Ciao.

What's this? You guys are
going to rough me up a little bit?

Hey, seriously, hey what's that?
What are you doing back there?

It's obvious that you
just won't go away.

Hey, whoa, hey, Father! You're just
gonna stand by and let this happen?

- This is God's will, my son.
- I don't know why you can't understand.

I think I've gone a great length
to make myself clear.

God! I was just
trying to do my job.

Well, now you are going
to join the others.

- What others? There are others in there?
- They wouldn't go away, either.

- OK, but I will. I will go. I promise.
- I don't believe you.

I think you're just saying
that so I'll let you go.

No, no! I will absolutely go.
Tomorrow, as soon as I can!

- I think he is telling the truth.
- Yes, listen to him!

I don't believe him. No...

- No, wow. There is no need for this.
- La Reverende.

What does "go away"
mean, Mr. Taylor?

It means "go away."

I'll expect you to do just that.
Lion.

I'm baptizing you in the name of
the father, the son and the holy ghost.

- What are you doing?
- Baptizing you.

- I am Jewish.
- Not anymore.

Unbelievable.

- You've got balls, boy. I'll give you that.
- And you've got my car keys.

There you go. Is that all?

Yep.

You know what? That's not it.

Because whatever reason you have for not
wanting to write, I accept them being personal,

but that's still no excuse for you
to be such an unbelievable asshole.

- I guess I am not for everyone.
- You know what? I admit I only came here

because my boss sent me.
But underneath,

I came here because I have
always wanted to meet you.

I thought that maybe if I could
meet the Great Weldon Parish,

perhaps you can teach me
how to be a better writer.

But I realize now that the only things
that you have to teach me are bitterness,

and mistrust.

How goes the great business,
Weldon?

What brings you to town, Ian?

I just finished my new novel,
and came back for a drink.

You remember how it was when
you finished a book way back,

when you still had
something to say?

Oh, I am sorry.
Did I strike an out?

It must be tough, being all dried
up inside, and having to live on

past glories.

- At least he has past glories to live on.
- And who might you be?

- Jeremy Taylor.
- Ian McBain.

Ian McBain, the novelist?

- I know your work.
- You are a fan?

- No, I didn't say that.
- Jeremy.

Actually, I would say that
your themes are all the same.

That your narration
lacks depth and imagination.

- Jeremy.
- Your prose struggles for wit.

Overall your style is sluggish,
at best.

And contains absolutely nothing that your
average Joe with a typewriter couldn't produce.

And, I think you are rude,
insensitive, dangerous, self-centered...

- He punched me in the nose.
- You'll live. I'll drive.

Your trusty steed
shall carry us to battle, well.

No, no, no, no, no.

- Oh my god! Weldon, no. Please, please, no!
- Weldon!

Are you OK?

No.

That was great, wasn't it?

You are completely out of
your mind. You know that, right?

- Don't you feel it?
- Feel what?

- Oh my God!
- Life!

Would you sit down?
You maniac! God!

OK, I am serious. Stop now.
Break! Break! Wow!

We're having some people up at the
house, tomorrow. Why don't you come by?

- I thought you didn't like me.
- I don't, but I dislike you less than I did yesterday.

Still mad?

Ciao, Isabella. Weldon?

Hi! Still mad?

Someone could have
got killed yesterday.

In all fairness, it wasn't
entirely your father's fault.

Exactly. He gets into enough
trouble on his own.

- He doesn't need help from anyone.
- Look, I am sorry, but

Ian McBain was saying that he is
all dried up and living on past glories.

I couldn't just stand there
and let him say those things.

I love my father very much.
But tell me,

Which part of this
statement isn't true?

That's an awfully cruel thing to say
about your own father. Don't you think?

- Really?
- Well, yes.

- It's none of my business.
- No, I know what you see.

You see the great Weldon
Parish, a man's man.

A man who lives life on his own
terms, and others be damned.

But you don't have
to pick up the pieces.

You don't have to watch a man
who was once strong and gentle,

slowly destroying himself.

How long has it been like that?

Since the day
he stopped writing.

- Are you saying you think he still wants to write?
- Of course, he wants to write.

- Then why doesn't he?
- Because he is afraid.

He is afraid that what was
once great about him is gone.

He is afraid that
Ian McBain is right.

Jeremy, these are my two other
daughters, Dinnie and Maura.

- Pleasure to meet you both.
- Jeremy Taylor.

Bon appetite.

I didn't see you at the mass
this morning, Mr. Taylor.

- Oh, are you Catholic?
- No, I am not.

- Be careful, he'll try to convert you.
- I know.

He's already tried, actually.

What does it matter what religion
we are? In the end, we all die.

There's no stopping the fact that
one day, we will all be rotten corpses,

in a dark, damp, creek.

Cheers.

So, what is it you do?
Mr. Taylor?

Why don't you all stop picking
at him and let him eat?

He is a book editor.

Yes. He is a book editor. I
am sitting next to a book editor.

Please, try to make a
bribe, my son. God gave him

a tremendous talent.

It's true.

This...
No, this time I can't tell you.

It's a secret. It's a secret.

- Buon Giorno.
- Buon Giorno.

Jeremy, this is Amalia.

- Pleasure to meet you.
- How do you do?

Weldon. That's the
bill for my car repairs.

I noticed one of my cows
was missing this morning.

You wouldn't know
anything about it?

I've got it, for safe keeping.
Till this is settled.

- You stole my cow.
- Call it collateral.

- Excuse me.
- Oh. Hello, Amalia.

- Hello, Ian.
- Oh, you are looking very beautiful today.

- Can I speak to you in private for a moment?
- I'm busy.

Oh, well, I just came by to ask if you'd
like to go to the town party with me?

I can't. I am going with Weldon.

It's news to me.

One of these days you are gonna
push me too far, Weldon.

Yeah? Well, let's hope you are
standing by a cliff when I do.

Weldon, I am not stealing a cow.

- What?
- Get dressed.

What? Get dressed.

Seriously, what are we doing?

Why, we're taking
an evening stroll.

There you are sweetie.

I've come to take you home
from the bad man.

This is my cow. I can't steal
something I already own.

- Then why do you need me here for?
- She can be

a little temperamental. I'm
gonna need you to get behind her

- and give her a little push.
- No, no way.

- What's this?
- What does it look like?

- No, I mean, that's it for?
- For you, get rid of that computer.

Why?
The computer makes it easier.

Writing is not supposed to be
easy, it's supposed to be hard.

Typewriters make you think about
the words you choose more carefully,

because you can't erase
them with the push of a button.

- Do you know how?
- I don't dance.

- I'll teach you.
- No, no, no, look, look,

You don't want to write,
I don't want to dance, OK?

So if I would write,
you would dance?

- Maybe?
- I don't wanna dance with you that bad.

Now, everybody has their price, Weldon,
and there has to be something you want?

What's your price? What
would you do to get me

to write a book for you?

Well, for starters, I could
offer you a large advance.

I don't need money.

OK, but there has to be
something that you want?

I want you to kiss my ass.

- No, seriously.
- I am serious.

That was a shady trick you
pulled on me back there.

I am going to drop my drawers.

And if you kiss my ass
in front of everybody,

I'll sign the contract.

Hey!

- OK.
- Oh my god. Whoa, whoa, whoa!

No, not okay. Not okay at all.

Don't say I didn't
give you a chance.

I wouldn't call that
much of a chance.

All you had to do
was use your imagination.

Pretend I was a beautiful woman.
One tenth of a second.

It would have all been over,
and you had what you wanted.

- OK, fine. I'll do it.
- Huh, too late.

- What?
- Too late.

Life is about seizing the moment,
and you just let this book slip by.

You knew I wouldn't do it,
didn't you?

Of course.

You are far too concerned with what a
room full of strangers might think of you,

to do anything foolish
or spontaneous.

- Well, that's called restraint.
- Boring.

Perhaps, but it's better
than being a lunatic.

Everybody needs a lunacy.

It's what frees us from
the pain in this world.

There is a wild man
inside you, Jeremy.

I can see him in your eyes.
Why don't you let him out?

You might like him.

If he's anything like you, I'll think
I'll keep him locked up, thanks.

She loved this place.

Oh, woo!

Look, would you mind terribly
putting on your pants?

I am not really comfortable
standing next to a naked man.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

I'll just, uh...

I used to come here
with my wife.

Back then I never had time
for the little things.

I was always so afraid I

wouldn't get a thought down
or I'd forget a line of dialogue.

Then one night the police came
to tell me that her car had...

After that nothing mattered.

And now I wish I could go back.

Just for one day.

Time is a precious thing,
Jeremy.

And the years teach much
which the days never new.

- Who?
- Who?

- Jeremy.
- Oh! Hi.

Weldon told me tell you
to be at this place at five.

Um. What? Five?

- Five.
- OK. Fine. Five.

She is beautiful, isn't she?

That's a good one.

- Are you still mad at me?
- No.

My father told me
it wasn't your fault.

- He's right you know? It really wasn't.
- Who?

- What's that?
- I have no idea.

- Would you care to take a seat?
- Sure. OK.

OK.

- You are writing.
- Well, trying.

Mostly I'm just,
looking for inspiration.

You, finding anything?

Em. Yes.
I think I am starting to.

Are you missing London?

No.

Actually, no. I am not, really.

Your family?

Well, I don't have
too much family left.

Both of my parents died
when I was 16 years old,

and then I moved to London to live
with my aunt, but she passed 3 years ago.

I am so sorry.

Eh, well, you didn't know.
Thank you.

- You have a girlfriend?
- No. I did, but you know

how those things go.
It didn't work out.

Come on, that's not fair.

- You don't speak any Italian, huh?
- No, not a word.

- No.
- No.

Well, if I can ever help you...

Well, actually, since you've
offered, there are a couple of words

that I've been meaning to learn.

For instance, beautiful?

"Bello ."

- " Bello."
- Mmm.

And, lips.

- " Labbia."
- Right.

And how would you say kiss?

That's enough Italian
for one day, huh?

Okay. Okay.

- I'll see you later.
- Oh, yeah.

Describe it to me.

- Now?
- What you're looking at. Describe it to me.

Well, it's the sun setting.

- The green of the hills, the blue sky.
- No describe it to me as if

you were writing it.

- The sun, dropped in behind a-
- The sun dropped?

English is your first
language, isn't it?

I can't think
on the spot like this.

Jeremy, anyone can use words.
It's called talking.

But writers arrange them in a way so that
they'll take on that beauty in their form.

Think of words as, colors.
And paper as a canvas.

Alright. Well, if it's really that
easy, why don't you try painting it?

I'm sorry. I realize you
don't want to do that.

You're right.

But if I, did do it.

I'd probably
say something like...

The sunset

slowly

igniting the sky in fiery
shades of red and orange.

In the distance, dark clouds
rolled over the horizon,

riding the summer winds.

Soon, day would give
way to night,

and with it would come..

The silence that washes
over everything.

For my size.

Gracie..

And this?

No. No.

OK. OK.

Perfect.

- Paul!
- I was wondering if you were coming.

When have I ever missed
a Monday night?

- What is this?
- Karaoke night.

What do you think?

- You guys actually do this?
- Yeah.

And so do you.

- Oh, no. No way.
- You'll be fine.

No, no. Seriously,
I won't do it.

You just need
a couple of drinks.

I don't care how many drinks
you put in me, I am not getting up

and singing.

- Hello, Joe.
- Jeremy, is that you?

Yes, sir. It's me.

- Any progress in this Parish affair?
- A little, yeah.

Well, what seems
to be the problem?

Well, he seems to think that he doesn't
want to write, but I think that he does.

Do you think he
genuinely likes you?

Yeah. Yeah, I think so.

Good. Use it.
Gain his confidence.

Get him to see that his writing
is in everyone's best interest.

Well, what if writing really
isn't in his best interest?

Jeremy, the function of business
is to get things done.

That is what you are there for.
To get things done.

Now, do it.

OK, look, I understand what
you are saying that writing comes

from experience.

But even after
you've experienced something,

you still got to get
it down on a page.

That's called talent.

Weldon. The other day, when you
described the sunset, that was great.

No, it was. That was great. And I
gotta tell you, I think it would really,

It would be helpful for me
if you could,

I don't know, Throw something
like that down on a page and just,

just let me see it, you know?

What are you doing?

- What? Nothing.
- We had a deal, remember?

We would talk about writing.
Not about me writing.

- Right. No, I just wanted-
- I know what you want!

What do you think I am,
an idiot?

You don't think I know what it would
do for your career if you sign me?

That's not why I am doing this.

Alright. We were
talking about experience.

If you write a fight scene, it
helps if you have been in a fight.

- Have you ever been in a fight?
- Me?

- Yeah.
- The closest I ever came was getting punched

in the nose the other day.

That's pathetic. If you were writing
a character who got, punched in

the stomach.
How would you describe that?

Just use my imagination.

OK. Go ahead.
Tell me what you feel like.

I'd double over in pain,
I'd be gasping for breath.

Hmm. What else?

Well, I don't know.

OK, now?

You got the doubling over
and gasping for air part right.

But there's also that burning sensation
in your gut. The pounding in your head,

the weak legs and tearing eyes.

Oh, notice there's snot
hanging out of your nose.

There is a feeling that you're
never gonna breath again, and then,

your lung is filled
with cool fresh air.

That's experience.

Stop trying to manipulate me.

Father, am I disturbing you?

No. No, no, my son.

I, I was just preparing the
sacraments for the evening prayer.

I, I've been expecting you.

- You have?
- Yes.

I am a priest, and part of my
job is to help those who need it.

You wish to speak about
Weldon and writing.

So. How do I reach him?

Do you believe in fate?

- I'm, Father, I don't know.
- I do.

I believe that each of us are
predestined to walk a path in life.

Along this path, we meet others.

And through knowing them,
we changed their lives.

OK, but, what does that have
to do with Weldon and writing?

There's an old story about
a bird who loved to fly.

One day, while he
was high up in the air,

it began to rain. And its
feathers became so heavy

that when it tried to land,
it broke its wing.

Time passed,
and the bird became better.

It wanted to fly,
but no matter how hard it tried,

something inside stopped
it from leaving the ground.

Day after day, it tried.
And day after day,

its fear, held it down.

Then one day,
a strong wind came,

and lifted it high into the sky.

It opened its wings,
and realized that it could fly.

I get. I do. Weldon is the bird,
and he is afraid to fly, right?

No, Jeremy. Weldon is the
bird, and you are the wind.

That is the path,
fate's chosen for you.

- Hi.
- Hello.

Father Moretti tells me you
had a nice little chat today.

Obviously, I didn't punch you
in the stomach hard enough.

I need to apologize for earlier.

Look, I only went to speak
with Father Moretti,

because I, I didn't
understand what happ.

- This is my manuscript.
- I know.

Where did you get this?

I went to the hotel and
told Gustav you wanted me

to get it for you.

You had no right
to do that, Weldon.

You've got talent, Jeremy.

You are a good writer.

The problem is you don't
trust your talent.

You don't believe you could find that
part of you that has something to say.

How do I know when I found it?

Believe me,
there is no mistaking it.

I know there is a lot of time
and effort put into those pages.

Have enough faith
in yourself to let them go.

Take what you've learned
from them and start again.

Ciao.

I have absolutely no idea what
you just said, but sounds good.

- Want some company?
- Sure, come.

- Whip the horses, huh?
- Mhm.

Jesus, I am gonna die.

When was the last time
you were on a horse?

Let's see, last time I was
on a horse was,

That would be never.

- Never?
- Yes, never.

- Why did you come?
- Well, it's a new experience.

I'm big on, whoa!

I'm big on new
experiences lately.

You have to be crazy.

So how was the writing going?

Um. I don't know actually.

I am really starting to question
whether or not I have what it takes.

Oh, yes. Self-doubt.

It is a common theme
with creative people.

Do you find that a lot
of creative people are...

- Crazy?
- Yes, crazy.

Of course they are crazy.

There are thousands
of writers and artists.

For most of them, their
dreams will never come true.

- Well, thanks, Weldon. That's very encouraging.
- No, that's reality, Jeremy.

Art is not something you choose to
do. It's something that chooses you.

Why did you want
to become a writer?

Because, I think that I...
No, it's not something you think.

It's something you know. Tell
me when you know the answer.

It's amazing how much
she looks like her mother.

Sometimes I walk into her room
and for a moment I'll think...

- Describe her to me.
- Come on, not this again.

Just do it, will you?

Sun light frames her body,
in a golden glow of honey light.

While the wind dances gently
through the long strands of her hair.

Her face is strong, proud.

With eyes that don't
easily give away their secrets.

It's a face that doesn't
call out, but softly beckons.

How was that?

You tell me.

By the way,

How long have you been
in love with my daughter?

- Ciao, Weldon.
- Ciao.

What?

You two are
the couple next door?

Are you ready for the party?

Yeah.

I was not stealing.
I was accepting charity.

Weldon. It's going to be a
late night. Why don't you all

stay at the hotel?

Half price, of course.

OK, free.

You were gone when
I woke up this morning.

You had a dream.

That's funny cause
it felt pretty real to me.

Yes, but last night
was last night.

What exactly does that mean?

It means I wanted to see
how I felt with you.

And how did you feel?

Jeremy...

We live in different worlds, ha?

There is no reason why you
couldn't come and live in my world.

Do I look like
I belong in London?

My life is here,
with my family and my horses.

Isabella, I don't want to just
let this slip away.

I know...

I am sorry. I...

I just wanted to share
something with you.

You wanna know
what my problem really is?

I am afraid.

Of what?

Of life, of love. Everything.

I want my own Vila, Weldon.

I wanna grow grapes,
and write great novels.

So what's stopping you?

Fear.

Fears. I mean, I have built this whole
life for myself, in London. I don't think

I don't think I can just change.

Well, Jeremy.

Most people are perfectly
content, living in their

dreary little worlds.

They just cling to the edge of the
toilet bowl, trying to keep their heads

above water, hoping some fool
won't come along to pull the chain.

It's only when they hear that flushing
sound, and begin to sly down into the abyss

that they'd start
taking stock at their lives.

What about the people who are
so comfortable in their suffering?

They don't even know
that the chain has been pulled.

I know that
you wanna write, Weldon.

You just can't leave it alone,
can you?

No. No, I can't.

But tell me I am wrong.

Weldon, look me in the eye, and
tell me that you don't want to write.

I don't want to write.

You know what I think?

- I think that you miss it.
- No.

I think that all the drinking,
and all the craziness,

is just your way of covering
up what's missing in your life.

- Right.
- And everybody knows it, Weldon, everybody.

Your daughters know it;
Father Moretti knows it;

Gustavo knows it; I
know it; But what's worse,

is you know it.

Tell me, hot shot. You think
knowing me a couple of weeks,

and living 25 years
of a sheltered existence

gives you the right
to tell me how to live my life?

25 years or 25 minutes.
The truth is still the truth.

My life is fine the way it is!
I do what I want when I want.

I pick a few grapes once a year.
That's all I have to do.

I was just a writer,
for god's sake!

That's all I was.

I didn't cure a cancer,
I didn't walk on the moon.

The world isn't gonna stop spinning if
there isn't another Weldon Parish novel.

You are right, it won't. But
maybe yours will start again.

And you are a writer, Weldon;

It is what you are, and
you are a great one at that.

A great writer knows when he
is not a great writer anymore.

So then what? He just gives up?

I didn't give anything up.

20 years ago I lost something,

something more important
than my writing.

How can I explain it to you?
I can't explain it to myself.

- Stop it. Just stop.
- Stop what?

If you don't want to write,
that's fine. But stop blaming it

on your dead wife.

What do you want from me?

You want to prove
I am miserable?

I know you say you don't want to write,
Weldon. But you write every single day.

You just stopped putting
the pen to the page.

Sometimes I've tortured you
this way, that way,

and you find yourself
a place you never,

imagined you'd be in.

Before you realize it,
it's too late to go back.

No, it's never too late.

- I don't have anything left.
- I don't believe you, Weldon.

- I can't do it!
- And it's bullshit. You know it. I can't.

- Why?
- Because...

- Because why?
- Because I am afraid.

But Weldon,
you are not afraid of writing,

you are afraid of failing.

We all fail.

Courage is in the trying.

Are you alright?

You should have
seen me today, Father.

You would have been proud.
I was very clever.

What happened?

I forced Weldon down a road
he didn't want to go in.

And I am a little afraid of what
he's gonna find at the end of it.

Sometimes it's you messed
up something now, in order to

make the something new.

Did it ever occur to you that
maybe the great Weldon Parish,

just simply does not
have anything left to say?

You don't really believe that,
do you?

I know that you think I am
his salvation, but I am not.

I am just not.

Every night, I go home and I
struggle to write one paragraph,

that tells me that I have
something, anything important to say.

And there is a man, who
can do it standing on his head,

and he chooses not to.
He chooses that.

And I am supposed to feel sorry
for him? Well, I am sorry. I don't.

And I know life has dumped on
him, but life dumps on all of us, father.

And we move on, we get
past it. At least most of us do.

Look, I am not responsible
for Weldon Parish.

I only did what I was sent
here to do. And I told him that,

right from the very beginning.

It's not like I lied to him.

If that's true,
why are you so upset?

Maura, where is everybody?

Still sleeping.

What are you all gawking at?

You act as if you've never
seen me writing before.

You could stay.

And do what?

Write?

Besides, I don't think I'd be
the only one sad to see you go.

I don't know about that.

Jeremy, what have
you got to go back to?

My life, my job.

I can't just pull up stakes
and move out here, Weldon.

Why not?

I...

I just can't.

Well.

What about the contracts?

- What about them?
- I can't sign if you don't give them to me.

You know? Why don't you
just see how it goes?

I want you to write
the book for yourself.

There is no need for you to have
to deal with the pressures of editors

and publishers.

And if you like
what you've written;

Then believe me, we
will be happy to publish it.

- Bye. - Ciao, Jeremy.
- Ciao.

Goodbye, my son.

Ciao, Jeremy.

Isabella?

In Italy we say a good friend is someone
who is there through the good and the bad.

- Si.
- Yeah?

And it's because I can't
imagine doing anything else.

What?

That's why I wanna be a writer.

Because I can't imagine
doing anything else.

Okay.

Bye, everybody.

- Ciao.
- Ciao, Jeremy.

He broke his wing.

No fly... No fly...

Uh, no fly. No fly.

No fly...

Fly.

Graci, mama.

Si, mama.