Original subtitles

- I see on average five point six pleasant faces a day.

And things are fine.

I know pretty girls

won't make life bearable,

but it feels enough sometimes.

- Do you think I'm a good actor?

- Don't put me in that position.

Yes, okay.

I think you're great.

You're amazing.

You're the best actor I've ever seen.

- Want a beer?

- You haven't said anything about my sweater.

- Is that the security tag?

- They must've forgotten to take it off.

Will you come to my poetry reading later?

- What?

What?

- Will you come to my poetry reading later?

- Marianne is back tomorrow.

I have to get this place clean.

- How long is she back for?

- Just a couple of days.

Where are you going?

- Ow!

I have that fucking thing.

- Where are you going?

Where do you think?

- Want to stay for dinner?

- I can't, I have to finish that poem.

- DRS on the metro.

They may ship you down.

I think Franz loses respect for me every time we have sex.

- I would.

- You know he's never even heard me read?

- Readings are boring.

- What's a girl have

to do to find love in this town?

- You could stop living like a cockroach.

- How am I supposed to do laundry

if we're out of detergent?

- I literally saw this guy twice today.

Grindr's so depressing.

- How can you tell when clothes

are too dirty to wear ?

- You haven't even asked how the show's going.

- I'm sorry.

I'm a horrible person, okay?

How's the show going?

- It's fine.

The photographer just got into town

and he's American.

- I hate Americans.

- Oh, that reminds me,

something came for you today.

- It's in German.

- Mmm.

You're a finalist for a poetry grant.

- What?

- You applied for a grant?

- I do stuff.

- I'm so proud of you.

- You don't understand.

If I get this grant,

I'll be like a real adult.

Like an actual poet, I'll be published.

People will talk about me.

What do I have to do?

Read it.

Read it!

- Okay.

Um.

You have to prepare another poem

to read in front of the commission.

And you schedule it within the next two weeks.

- So I just have to write the best poem of my life.

- I can't wear this tonight.

- It'd be cute on you.

- Mm, nevermind.

- Nine on the chair moves,

expanding his legs to oblivion.

It is like he has a sudden need to fill the void,

the void of everything with his cells.

I stand now in a reality

where only the white plastic garden chair

is committed to honesty.

- Why does she always get to read before me?

- I want my body to dance like plastic when it burns.

Or sway.

- I bet her parents give her money.

They have to.

- Close to your heat, my edges get softly uneven.

- Do you think she's prettier than me?

- Why do you think about that?

- I'm not allowed to be involved,

so I would rather evaporate.

Thank you.

- Thanks Sylvie.

Next, Charlotte Parks will be reading.

- Whoo!

- Thank you for that wonderful reading, Sylvie.

I see on average five point six pleasant faces a day

and things are fine.

I know pretty girls won't make life bearable,

but it feels enough sometimes like they might.

That was some dark shit, Chuck,

that you were saying last night.

I think everyone found it very alienating indeed.

Darling when you said those things,

I know you didn't mean them.

I know birds shouldn't be chased out of a sanctuary

and shot.

It's just that it's so much fun to do it anyway.

- Wow, that was quite moving.

Familiar somehow.

- What's up, Sylvie?

- I heard you were a finalist for the Shinlang grant.

- How did you hear that?

I literally just found out.

- Remo told me.

And I'm a finalist too.

- I can't tell you how enthralling that is for me.

- Actually there's somebody I

wanted to introduce you to.

- Oh really?

- My flatmate.

- Oh, your flatmate.

- Oliver was just telling me how he's never been with a guy.

- Yeah, it's embarrassing really.

- It's never too late.

- You're getting really good.

- Do you two know each other?

Wait, you're Oliver Oliver?

- How could you not tell me he was the photographer?

- You only listen to me if I'm talking about you.

- This is definitely about me.

- Sorry.

I'll be back.

- What are you doing here?

- I love poetry.

- Berlin.

- I have a solo show.

- Oh, I have a solo show.

- Oh Charlotte, hey.

- This is Oliver.

- Hi.

- He's from Los Angeles.

- Hey, nice read tonight.

- Thanks.

- You're a poet too?

- No, no, no.

- No, Oliver actually takes photographs of naked women.

- Okay.

- You wanna smoke outside?

- You fuck that guy?

- Are you jealous already?

- I'm not jealous .

Just asking as a friend.

- Nathan?

Are you kidding?

- Are you homesick?

- I do kind of miss Americans.

It's hard to have a good conversation in English here.

All the nuances get lost.

- So how come you're not a famous poet yet?

That is why you broke up with me, right?

To move here and be a famous writer?

- I didn't break up with you.

- You didn't break up with me?

Oh.

It's funny 'cause I remember you didn't even say goodbye.

What?

- I should actually go.

- When can we hang out again?

- I don't think that's a good idea.

- It's been a year.

We're in Berlin together.

We can't hang out?

- I really hope your show goes well.

- Hello?

- It's me.

- What are you doing here?

- Can I sleep over?

- Mmm.

I'm so sexy I'm fun

and fucking dim.

I'm afraid of myself to be honest.

I'm scary and delicate

and I don't want to die at this party.

Seriously?

- Uh, can I have a cappuccino please?

- How do you know where I work?

- Aren't you gonna ask me how I am?

- How are you?

- Not bad.

I went to have breakfast on the Spree.

- Did you really like my poem last night?

- Yeah, I did.

It felt honest.

- Do you think it was honest enough?

Was it more honest than Sylvie's poem?

- Who's Sylvie?

- The girl who read before me.

- I don't know.

- That'll be $2.50.

- You got a break coming up?

- Just took one.

- Well, when's the next one?

- Never.

- That's really bad .

Come on, I need to talk to you.

Let me buy you an ice cream.

- I hate ice cream.

What did you want to talk to me about?

- I wanted to say that I know that I did a lot of things,

which, but you hurt me a lot too, you know?

And there was a lot of that.

So I don't know.

But so it was kind of equal,

but I think I wanted to just.

- What are you in some kind of program?

- Yeah, maybe I am in some sort of program.

So what?

- Honestly, Ollie, it's fine.

It was a long time ago and I had to get my life together.

Hi.

How's it going?

- Did you steal a pair of Marianne's shoes?

- No.

- She's freaking out.

She thinks I'm cheating on her,

that I gave them to my other girlfriend.

- Can I see you later?

- Are you insane?

I'm on seriously thin ice here.

- Listening to your domestic issues

is like the most boring thing that I can imagine.

Just break up already.

- Hello?

Hello?

- Everything okay?

- It's fine.

- Okay.

Well, hey, I wanted to talk to you about something else too.

I need a new portrait for my show,

and I wanted to take a picture of you.

- Don't you have enough pictures of me?

- I can pay you.

I'm serious, the gallery's giving me money.

- I'm out of tobacco.

- What?

- Did you take this show because of me?

- Of course not.

- Emerging the cafe, tender,

a gentle greeting, waving,

fractures the night.

Moon kiss streetlamps explode.

One moment trained and submissive.

Your eyes take bait brilliant.

The listless miracle gleam pilfered,

dazzling, held in place.

A shrug sent it away.

Lonely calls to return.

Discerning auriculars fickle at night.

- What the fuck are discerning auriculars?

- We are not supposed to ask questions yet.

- Does anyone else know what that is?

- The feathers that cover bird's ears.

It's called urban owl.

- I loved the imagery of the moon and the pupil,

stealing light, stopping everything.

- Catching an owl, a streetlamp,

scaring it off.

Refusing to listen, it's such a beautiful metaphor.

- Is it?

Come on, Nathan.

I mean nothing happens.

A guy looks at an owl, owl flies away.

You're setting it all up,

but you're missing any opportunity for conviction.

- Are there owls in cities?

- I actually saw an owl once in Berlin.

- There are no owls in Berlin.

- Yes, there are.

- Who cares if you saw an owl.

How did it make you feel?

- I was sad.

- Well, the put that in the poem.

- Yeah, I agree with that.

- Okay, thanks everyone.

Charlie, you were going to read something tonight.

- It's a work in progress.

I'm so sexy and fun and fucking doomed.

- Charlie?

- Hey.

- All right, guys.

- Bye.

What's up?

- Can I ask a favor?

Bye.

I have a couple poems I could really use your help on.

Do you think we can meet up

and you can give me your thoughts?

- Oh.

Things are pretty crazy for me right now.

I don't know if I'm gonna have time.

- Well, maybe I can help with your grant poem.

- Maybe .

- Okay.

- Bye.

- Cha.

- Hey, wait up.

- Hey.

- What were you and Nathan talking about?

- None of your business, Sylvie.

- How's it going with the grant poem?

- Amazing.

- You know that the Shinlang people,

they take plagiarism quite seriously.

I mean you may have everyone else fooled,

but I know Kenneth Koch when I hear him.

- Immature poets imitate,

mature poets steal.

- Yeah.

I'm sure they will see it that way.

- Hello.

Tobacco ?

- American Spirit.

- American Spirit?

- I'm so sexy and fun and fucking doomed.

I'm afraid of myself to be honest.

I'm scary and delicate

and I don't want to die at this party.

Whimpering in white shorts

or laughing manically in my safari hat.

- What are you doing here in Berlin?

- I'm a poet.

- Why do you steal these clothes?

- Because I can't afford them.

- .

How long have you been here?

Over a year?

Can you even speak a word of German?

- Okay, I don't speak German.

- If you ever enter that store again,

you'll be immediately arrested.

- Can I at least keep the shoes?

- Everything's going to be all right.

- No, it's not.

I can't finish this poem.

Franz doesn't love me.

I don't have any money.

I'm gonna have to go to jail .

Why does everything bad keep happening to me?

- Darling, they don't send people to jail

for being losers, hm?

- I got arrested for stealing.

- Seriously?

- Don't tell anybody.

And if I don't come up with 800 Euro,

I have to go to jail.

Do you have 800 Euro?

- I don't have 10 Euros,

but don't worry.

We'll figure this out.

- I should just kill myself.

- Hey.

Do you want to go to a party?

- Who's party?

- Want another one?

- Yeah.

Do you ever watch Cathy Acher's blue tape?

- Yeah, I think so.

- In it she says Ellen Sonheim

reads that letter she wrote him

and she says that her desire for Sonheim

comes out of this dark wish to fuck your father.

But ultimately, only to destroy him.

- Mm-hm.

- And I've been thinking about and I realized,

you know, my dad,

he's the first emotionally withholding guy

who doesn't like me.

And I've just been cycling through that trauma.

I've just been trying to fill that void of parental love

for so long and now I'm at a point

where I don't know.

I don't know if I'll be able to be with somebody.

I mean, I'm ready.

I'm ready to be a great partner for a perfect, hot person

who will never leave me,

but at this point,

I just can't imagine doing that.

I feel like my father's actually ruined my life.

Like irreparably.

- Franz isn't texting you back?

- No.

He hasn't texted me fucking once.

- Hey, why don't you go borrow the money from Oliver?

- I'd rather go to jail than give him that power over me.

Do you think you could kill someone?

- Who do you wanna kill?

- Sylvie.

Then I wouldn't have to worry about winning that grant.

- I always pictured you as more of a narcissist

than a sociopath.

- You think I'm a narcissist?

- Hello!

- Hey, how's it going?

- Hey, good how are you?

- Good too.

- Good.

Hi.

- Hi.

- Do you want a bump?

- Um.

- He's actually sober, he's in a program.

- Yeah, which one?

- Does anyone feel like dancing?

- Why did you break up anyway?

What happened?

- I cheated on her.

- Mm.

- I mean, I was just getting a lot of work.

I was just starting a lot of work, you know?

- Yeah.

- It was different, it was different then.

I really lost myself, do you know what I mean?

- Mm-hm.

- Do you say that here?

Lose yourself?

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure.

- Yeah.

It's funny though.

I always thought she would've sort of hit it before me.

Okay, well, suddenly I feel like dancing.

- Oh my God, hi!

What are you doing here?

- I snuck out for a few hours.

- This is Oliver.

He's a photographer.

- Hey.

Perfect.

- Yeah.

- You want a beer?

- Yes!

- .

- What?

- A lighter?

- Oh yeah.

- Thanks.

- Yeah.

You're the poet, right?

- Sylvie.

- Oliver.

- Nice to meet you, Oliver.

- Hey.

Are you Charlie?

- Huh?

- Did you come?

- Uh, no, I was a bit distracted.

- With what?

- Oh just the show on here.

- So you're Charlie's ex?

- Yeah.

- Was she always such a conniving little thief?

- What do you mean?

- I mean every word she writes

is straight from the .

- Oh.

I like her poems.

Have you seen my pants?

Would you let me photograph you?

- 30.

- Danke.

- Marianne went through my phone this morning.

- She cracked my tooth.

- She's crazy.

- Well, isn't she leaving again in a couple of days?

- She's going to take some time off.

- And you?

Okay.

- I'm sorry, I just.

- Remo?

Remo?

Remo?

I'm so sexy and fun and fucking doomed.

I'm afraid of myself to be honest.

I'm scary and delicate,

and I don't want to die at this party,

whimpering in white shorts.

Or laughing manically in my safari hat.

White praying, white gloved hands,

and out there, kitten soft,

stirring in the night and stuff.

- How often do you cook?

- .

That's so, I mean.

- Oh cute, you're home.

- Hey.

- No, I'm joking.

It's really good, thank you.

- This is Blake.

- Hi.

- Franz broke up with me.

- What happened to your face?

- His girlfriend punched me.

- You look like a rapper.

- Darling, are you depressed?

- I think I'm in shock probably.

- Mm.

Hey, we're going out dancing if you want to come.

- I think I'm gonna stay here

and try to get my life together.

Hey Blake, do you have 800 Euro I could borrow?

- What?

- Nevermind.

Goodnight.

- Goodnight.

- Sorry about that .

- Is she always like this?

- Yes.

- I'm selling my precious bicycle.

I have a bond with this thing,

so whoever buys it needs to respect this bond.

And even though you will establish your own bond with it,

you must comprehend that it will never mean as much

as the bond we've already established.

300 Euro.

- Prost?

- Prost.

- Mm.

- Um, I'm actually here because I need a favor.

- Really?

What is it, anything?

- Do you have 800 Euro?

- Oh.

Uh .

- I can't really go into detail,

but if I don't get it I might have to leave Berlin.

- Seriously?

Charlie, I don't know.

- You are like the only person I can trust.

- My parents, they would just kill me

if I gave you that much so no.

- Mm-hm.

- But .

- Hey.

Holy shit.

Oh my God, are you okay?

- Yeah, I'm.

- Hey.

- Mm.

- Why don't you read me one of your poems?

- Yeah.

- Oh.

Um.

I'm gonna go.

- Okay.

- So I'll give you 250.

- It's non-negotiable.

- Throw in the lock.

- Okay.

You can change the combination.

- Yeah, yeah.

- You just have to look up how on YouTube.

- So how's the combo now?

- 66666.

- That was easy.

So 100 price, and the rest.

- Bye.

- See ya.

- Hey.

You sell your bike?

- Things aren't going so hot right now.

- Oh.

- Did you bring the money?

- I still have to pick it up from the gallery, sorry.

- It's okay.

- What happened to your face?

- It's good, it's good, it's good.

- Mm.

- What?

What?

- Can we turn it up a little bit?

- What do you mean?

- You know.

Like we used to?

- Jesus.

Fuck man.

- Hey Oliver.

You have a visitor.

- Okay.

- Oh, hey dude .

Um.

All right.

Bye Chuck.

- So that's it.

You left her.

- We're done.

I just want to be with you.

- Where are you gonna live?

- I thought I could move in here for a bit

while we look for a place.

- You want to get a place together?

Can you afford that?

- As roommates?

- I already have a roommate.

- I thought this was what you wanted.

Don't you love me?

- Yeah.

- This is nice.

- It is nice.

I'm organizing a poetry reading tomorrow.

Do you want to come?

- Sure.

- Hey.

I am really sorry about the other night.

- Can we not do this?

- Listen.

I can't give you 800,

it's just, I can't.

- Nathan, I shouldn't have even asked.

- But you should take this.

- It wasn't appropriate.

- Okay, it's 200, I can spare it.

- Really?

- Yeah.

I insist, take it.

- Okay, thanks .

- You're welcome.

- Should we get started soon?

- Oh yeah, sure, yeah.

- Reading one of your funny poems tonight?

- Fuck off, Sylvie.

- Couldn't find anything else to steal?

- I guess I haven't been feeling very inspired lately.

- Well, I found your friend, Oliver, inspiring.

He's really cool.

- You guys hung out?

- He took my photo.

Was really fun.

He's so professional.

- Okay, guys.

I think we are ready to go, yeah?

- One sec.

- I have your money.

300.

- Thanks.

- Yeah.

What's wrong?

- You took photos of Sylvie?

- Who?

- The poet.

- Oh yeah.

Yeah, she was great, yeah.

- Did you sleep together?

Enjoy the reading.

- Hello?

- Where are you?

- Sorry, I think I'm just so tired.

I stay in tonight.

- You mean stay in, stay in my room.

- I'll just see you when you get back, okay?

Have a fun time.

- Fuck.

- Hi, good evening everybody.

Thank you for coming.

Our first read tonight is Sylvie Leonards.

- Mm.

This is called An Entitlement.

- I don't speak German.

- I don't speak fucking German.

- Money please now.

- Hey!

Hey!

Are you okay?

You should call the police.

- I'm not really in a great spot with the police right now.

He didn't hurt me or anything.

What are you doing here anyway?

- I wanted to apologize for your face.

I was really upset.

- It's okay.

I deserved it.

It doesn't matter anyway,

I'm going to jail.

- What ?

- I steal stuff.

I can't help it.

I just like it.

- Hey.

I have some beers at my place.

- Why not?

- Do you have any drugs?

I wanna get fucked up.

- Are you sure that's a good idea?

- You have something?

- Um.

I got some speed.

- Well, break it out.

- I'm okay.

That's pretty baller, 500 Euro.

- I'm fucking rich, didn't you know that?

I was paying for that piece of shit to live.

Well, there's a straw.

- Um.

I think I'm gonna go.

- You sit.

I'm super high right now,

you can't leave me alone.

- Can I smoke in here?

Great.

- Can I ask you a question?

- Sure.

- Did you steal my shoes?

- I steal a lot of things.

- My boyfriend you can keep,

but the shoes I want back.

- I don't have them.

- You're a liar.

- I really, I should really go.

- Hey!

That was my favorite pair of shoes.

- I don't have them.

Get off me!

- Hey, what time is it?

- Go back to sleep.

I'll be right there.

Hey.

- Marianne is dead.

- What?

- Her mother just called me.

- What happened?

- They don't know.

- Um.

I have to meet a friend for brunch,

but I'm gonna come back here after

and we'll figure this all out, okay?

- Okay.

- Hey.

- Hey.

- What's wrong?

- Something happened.

- Like what?

- It's fucked up.

- How fucked up.

- Like that one time.

- Oh, I thought you were getting your life together.

No?

What do you need?

- Can I say I was with you last night?

- Mm.

Will you come back to L.A. with me?

- I don't know.

What's going on?

- They just arrested Franz.

- What?

Why?

- Apparently he killed Marianne.

- No.

Are you okay?

- I can't believe I've been here all morning alone

with a murderer.

Did you know?

Did you suspect anything?

- Hello?

Yes.

Of course.

Tomorrow?

No problem.

- So, your full name.

- Charlotte Parks.

- And what is your occupation?

- I'm a poet.

- Are you here on an artist's visa?

- Yeah, for a year.

- And what is your relation to Franz?

- He was my boyfriend.

I guess we were having an affair.

- Did you know him to be violent tempered?

- No, not especially.

- Can I ask your whereabout last night around two?

- Sure,

there was a poetry reading at the cafe I work at

and then I was with my ex-boyfriend.

His name is Oliver Ross.

- How did you get that?

- Marianne.

She punched me in the face.

- You must've been angry with her.

- I don't really care about her at all.

Can I see Franz?

Hey.

- I don't know what's happening.

I didn't do this.

- I know.

It doesn't make any sense.

- Why would I murder her?

You believe me, don't you?

- Of course.

Things are so crazy right now.

I mean I haven't even figured out my grant poem yet

and the thing's tomorrow,

and I just--

- What?

- My grant poem,

that thing I'm up for.

I like don't even know what I'm gonna write about,

and Sylvie she's been--

- How can you talk about this right now?

- I'm sorry.

I guess I don't know what to say.

- I found her shoes.

- Who's shoes?

- Marianne's shoes.

They were in your garbage can.

- I guess I stole them.

- What's wrong with you?

- I burn the way money burns.

Hi.

Do you know who I see about paying a fine?

Could you?

I'd like to buy this shirt please.

Hi.

- Welcome .

Thanks for coming in.

Please have a seat.

Please begin whenever you're ready.

- If I'm going to endure,

I have to know there are things money can't buy.

But here are some things that aren't one of them.

Champagne, ocelots and other exotic pets and sex.

Ribbons tied around your wrist or neck,

great long books about libidinal drives.

Sushi, property influence and ancient artifacts.

Television networks, scented candles,

satin sheets on Memory Foam mattresses,

expensive and drenched with sweat.

Tickets to the ballet, roses and bread too,

and every day life becomes more joyful.

Tennis courts, fine cuts of red meat,

and a chef to prepare, a maid to serve, a boat.

Even a life has a price,

but the thing about bodies is that they're soft

and inside are bones that break

and organs that rot and rot and rot and rot.

Slowly but inevitably,

and money doesn't stop it.

I missed you too.