Original subtitles

Spaniards, this is Radio Nacional

talking from the liberated zone.

This is a message for all towns in Northern Spain,

which, with courage and faith,

have stood up against the Republican chaos.

DAIRY

We're going to kill you!

Cowards!

Stop now, please.

We can't hear.

Our Italian comrades are already flying to Spain...

- Juanuco... - Yes?

Have you seen my mother?

- No, she must be at home. - Go call her.

Hurry, tell her to come!

Hurry!

They're coming!

They're coming!

Gentlemen,

they are here! The Italians!

Mother!

Mother!

Sebastián!

What are you doing? They've made a mistake!

- Come on. - Let go!

Open fire!

Halt, on behalf of the Republic!

Halt!

Dear Spanish soldier,

brave little soldier,

the Sun takes great pride

in kissing your forehead.

You emerged victorious,

as fate would have it,

for the Virgin Mary heard

the heart-broken pleas

of your olive-skinned girlfriend

Stop!

Frasquito, come with me.

Halt.

Don't move.

Stay still!

What are you doing here?

I'm one of you.

Huh?

I'm one of you.

Arriba España!

Arriba España!

Arriba!

- Mother. - Yes?

- I'm going out. - Where?

To the casino.

- Wait! - Yes?

I've made the fried eggplants with honey that you like so much.

Later!

WHITE

BLACK

Carlos Rodríguez Segura?

Follow me, please.

Sir.

The candidate.

Send him in.

The casino committee has considered your request for membership.

Those for, vote with a white ball, those against, black.

Understood?

Understood.

Voting will begin.

Excuse me.

I'm looking for older records, from before the fire.

Smyrna.

Nothing at all.

I have...

- I can give you these, for 2 euros. - Yes, I know.

But I'm looking for music from before 1922, 1923...

From Constantinople.

I have nothing. Nothing at all.

They still exist. Not many, but they exist. Some were saved...

- Can you hear that? - Yes, but what are they saying?

A woman is singing. She's saying that...

she doesn't want to be a woman, she wants to be a man now.

Oh, wow! Trans?

Something like that. Hold on. I have the translation.

I've just written it down. Listen.

She says "I was the prettiest girl.

The prettiest in all of Athens. The most beautiful.

Now she doesn't want to be a woman, but a man.

Like the ones on the front line,

with pistol and knife."

What are you going to do with that?

Maybe. I'll focus my thesis on that, I suppose.

If this has appeared, there must be more records

with songs that speak from the margins of dissident desire.

Hell, this is from 1922!

They're talking about queerness, drugs... It's so interesting!

- You sound well! - Huh?

You seem very excited about this. It's nice hearing you like this.

Anyway, when are you coming back? You should've been back 2 weeks ago!

Who's calling you?

Hello, could I speak with Alberto López Azcuna?

Yes, that's me. But I'm not in Spain.

I'm sorry.

I'm calling from Pedro Iguña's office.

What?

Your grandfather's executor.

Your grandfather passed recently.

My grandfather died five years ago.

No, Mr. López Azcuna died yesterday.

My mother's father, you mean?

Yes.

I'm sorry for your loss.

Was he alive?

Black ball!

White ball.

Black ball.

Black ball.

White ball.

Black ball.

Black ball.

Your membership request has been rejected.

Right!

Right, right! More!

Now straight! Straight!

Now straight!

Good, good!

More, more!

Turn, now.

Good, good!

Keep going!

Halt there!

The other way.

Check if any of them has a pulse.

Stay alert.

- I'll check if anyone's alive. - I don't think anyone's alive.

Few survivors.

Get the others down.

This is all rotten.

The truck is now a mess.

That one's moving!

That one's alive! He's alive!

- Where? - Here. These ones are alive.

Let's get the ones on the left.

This one's priority.

Careful, get him out first.

Get the one in the corner.

Hold him, hold him tight.

Get him out.

That one over there too.

No, he's dead.

You hit my head!

Get these ones here.

- Marta, this injured one. - He's dead.

Get the one in the corner.

Sisters! Get the bandages ready.

Grab him.

He moved!

Alive!

Grab him.

Careful.

He's in a bad way.

Careful! Careful with his guts!

Let's get this one out first.

Careful, he's alive.

That one's alive too!

Let's get these down first.

Shit, let's get them down one by one.

Hold him tight!

Careful, open wound!

Be careful.

- Take it easy. - Fuck you!

This motherfucker is heavy!

Utmost urgency!

We'll have to clean the truck!

Help me!

Sister!

Damn, he's heavy!

This is serious.

A blanket!

Name and occupation!

- Where did you find them? - Reinosa.

Name and occupation!

Name and occupation!

Rafael Rodríguez Rapún.

Rafael, what?

Rafael Rodríguez Rapún.

Check if he's an officer.

- Lieutenant Colonel. - To the operating room!

- I'm starving. I haven't had lunch. - You haven't?

I just ate an apple at noon.

But I'm hungry.

- It's not working. - It broke again.

You have to fix this, it's stuck.

It wasn't working well yesterday.

What have we got?

It is an incised-bruised wound on the abdomen...

The tissues are exposed.

Same on the leg, but I don't see any bones...

He's one of the enemies.

Breathe deeply.

Compress.

Breathe in.

He's bleeding a lot.

Let's clean it up.

- Pliers! - His pulse is very weak.

- I'm coming. - Hurry.

Hurry.

Shall I keep pressing?

Tell me.

- How's the leg? - It's bleeding.

We're done here.

Scalpel! Scalpel!

His pulse is a bit better now.

Give him more ether.

- One second. - More ether!

The leg, check the leg.

How is it?

Alright, that's good.

Show me the leg.

What's the meaning of this?

You applied to be a member of the casino and were blackballed.

How come?

I remember one summer when I was a child,

I heard some noise...

Shouting at the top of the street.

I looked outside

and I saw some boys from town dragging another boy.

The boy was around my age.

He kept flailing his arms asking for help, poor thing.

And they hauled him along like a fish hooked by the mouth

and took him to the water trough.

They put his head under the water

and left him dead there.

For a hundred days.

No one batted an eye.

I'm not going to intrude on your heart,

but outside this door,

you have to be what you're meant to be.

Understood?

Tomorrow you'll go to the casino,

with your head held high,

and you'll tell them that it's all just talk,

that you are a man.

A man!

That you would set fire to Granada

to defend your honor.

Because you're a man!

Tell all of them to their faces!

Demand they apologise publicly.

And demand a new vote.

Weren't you going out?

No.

It's too lovely a morning to be sitting inside the house

staring at the ground like that.

I'm thinking.

Thinking...

If I were a man like you, I'd never think.

I'd like to walk,

go to the rivers, climb trees...

And why don't you?

Because I'm a woman.

And I settle for being a woman.

I would like to throw the javelin,

but I must sweeten oranges.

I must and I want to.

You want to...

I'm not rebelling against anything.

Don't you want to play the piano?

No, I don't.

Something's going on that we refuse to accept.

Today everyone is talking about that poor woman murdered in Campillo.

Her husband and her four sons beat her to death.

- Why? - Because she was cheerful,

and she liked theatre, the living forms.

They were waiting for her outside the café.

They dragged her out by the hair, tied her hands with guitar strings.

- With guitar strings? - Yes, with guitar strings.

- Such animals... - That's horrible.

What's wrong, Carlos? You're quiet.

The casino business is what's wrong with him.

Why did they blackball you?

Do they think you're a Freemason?

I could go with you and say you're the biggest monarchist.

- Enrique... - What?

It's your fault for wanting to get into that place.

It's my father's idea.

What did they say?

That I'm a homosexual.

Are you?

Go to the casino,

and say that you have a friend, a Philosophy student,

who'll defend you

even if he has to stain their suits with blood.

I don't care what you are, Carlos.

I don't care. I just want to live.

Fall in love with a crocodile, if you want.

If you want to fall in love with me,

I'll let you.

But promise me that we'll blow the roofs off

and burn the book the priests read at mass.

- Come on, Enrique! - Shut up, Lorenzo.

- Enrique... - Yes?

You've drunk a lot. Go home, Enrique.

Listen to Lorenzo, and get some sleep.

Yes, come on.

I don't want to sleep.

I want to live.

Stop.

Enrique, come on!

Come on, go.

Why didn't you tell him the truth?

Are you ashamed?

Lorenzo, you know I'm not...

You're not what?

Do you remember when we were little?

When we hid under the wooden desks?

How many times did we go to dark corners together?

Be quiet.

I won't be quiet. No.

Everyone knows who I am because I can't hide it.

But I know who you are.

I do.

Where am I?

Where am I?

How much time has passed?

Don't move.

Don't move!

What are you doing?

Stay still. Lie down!

Shit.

Stay still.

The sea...

Yes, the sea, what about it?

I don't remember.

They transferred you.

From Bárcena?

They said Reinosa...

Go lie down, please.

Go back to bed.

Please...

Why are you doing this?

Doing what?

Talking to me.

Breaking the protocol.

We aren't talking. Stay back.

We are talking.

What's your name?

What is it to you?

You know my name, don't you?

Yes, but I can't tell you mine.

Here, a name is something important.

Lie down, come on.

That's enough. Stop.

Don't drink it all.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

What now?

What will you do to me?

I don't know.

How old are you, kid?

Don't call me kid.

Did you believe all that propaganda?

It isn't propaganda, it's my duty.

Just look at yourself. You can't even hold the gun.

We fight for Spain and you lot will hand it to the fascists.

- Shut up or I'll shoot. - Do it.

- What are you saying? - Do it.

Shoot.

Come on. Shoot.

- Don't move! Stop! - Make your contribution.

- Come on! - Are you crazy?

If you don't do it, someone else will.

- Shoot already! - You're crazy.

- Come on. Shoot. - Let go!

Pull the trigger.

What are you doing?

- Let go! - Shoot!

You're bleeding!

You're bleeding...

You're bleeding, can't you see?

Has he said anything?

No, Lieutenant Colonel.

Well, then?

He was moving in his dreams and fell off the bed.

He was bleeding, so I called the nurse.

The prisoner you are guarding is called Rafael Rodríguez Rapún.

It seems that he wanted to let himself die at the front.

While everyone was running from an attack,

he walked... towards the bombs.

Calmly.

Like someone going out to enjoy the sun.

Rafael Rodríguez Rapún.

He was a footballer... with Atlético de Madrid.

He mixed with intellectuals,

reds,

and then he enlisted in the Artillery school in Murcia,

where he obtained the rank of lieutenant.

He was sent to the front here,

to Santander.

I think this Rafael guy...

has key information about Republican positions

and that's why he wanted to be killed

before we could catch him and make him talk.

That's why I want you to watch him,

until we can question him and try him.

If he wakes up, I don't know,

talk to him. Make him talk.

Any information could be useful.

Let's continue with the dry dressings.

Give him some water when he wakes up.

- Relief. - No news.

Hello.

- How is he? - Fine.

He's fine. He's out of danger.

He's scared of blood.

He faints when he sees it.

That's silly...

How do you know?

He told me. He's very nice.

We could have sat outside on the terrace.

There's no terrace, Mom. We've been here before.

I don't remember then.

María and her husband, over there, opened it in 1959.

- Do you remember? - No. Not everyone has your memory.

- What are you playing? - Candy.

A lawyer called me the other day.

My grandfather's lawyer, apparently.

I'm talking about your father.

- I'm talking about your father. - Sure!

Alberto, leave me the fuck alone, OK? I'm warning you.

What did he want?

He told me my grandfather has died.

Great. Awesome! Good.

- So, you knew? - Yes, of course I knew.

- Why didn't you tell me? - Because you didn't know him.

Because you never told me about him.

There's not much to tell.

- Your fabada here... - Lovely.

- Bring me another beer too. - Alright.

No, wait, no...

Bring the beer.

- Shut up! - Finish this one and order after.

- Bring me the beer. - Here's a plate.

Can I take that or are you finishing the tomato?

I'm sure he'll finish the tomato.

No? How weird...

You've had three beers already.

Two.

Next will be my second one.

So annoying...

Can I take the beer?

I'm going to finish it. It's still cold.

He left me something.

You?

An inheritance.

What has he left you?

I don't know. If I want it, I have to go to Cantabria to pick it up.

I'm not making this up, the lawyer told me.

And why you?

Did you ever tell your father about me?

I never talked to him. I hardly knew him.

What the hell's going on then?

- How would I know? - Don't shout at me.

- Oh, come on... - I'm not shouting.

Why did you never tell me your father was alive?

I'm going to the washroom.

What for?

- What are you going for? - Shut up, Alberto! Dude!

Bro!

- Sure, take your bag... - Fuck off.

Bitch...

Pain in the ass.

Fucking bitch.

I have to go.

Where? You haven't eaten anything.

I got a knot in my stomach, with this heat...

- Nothing spoils your appetite. - Sit down, please.

I'm telling you I don't want to eat!

- I'm saying I don't fucking want to. - We're in a restaurant.

Don't touch me!

- I said I don't want to talk. - Sit down.

I don't want to sit down.

I'm telling you I have to go.

I have a lot going on, a whole mess.

Javier is alone with the dogs, we're renovating the house.

- Who's Javier? - My boyfriend,

you have selective memory. You remember that lady, but not me.

Was there an accident?

Sorry, miss. It was him, he's...

- That's enough, Alberto. - Wait a moment.

No, that's enough. Enough, dammit!

I have nothing to say to you, got it?

Nothing.

I don't want to hear anything from that man, neither do you!

I got his house and I've put it up for sale.

Let's leave things at that.

Don't go to Cantabria, please.

Hello!

Madrid is impossible!

Oh, God!

Where are you?

In the office!

Guess who I bumped into in the supermarket.

I don't know, Juan Pablo. I don't know.

Carlota!

Great...

She told me she wants to read something of yours, a play.

I told her you quit writing. She was so sad to hear that.

Well, I'm not.

What was that?

That I'm not sad about it.

Like, at all!

Did you meet your mom?

Yes.

And?

Half-way through lunch she did a line of cocaine.

Nothing new.

She's lost a ton of weight.

I can't stand her.

Nothing new.

She doesn't want me to go.

But, what do you want?

Why did you stop the music?

You're a historian, aren't you?

Yes.

And?

Isn't it funny that the only story you don't care about is your own?

I'll go make dinner.

From where do you come, my love?

My child!

From the peak of the bitter cold

What do you need, sweet love?

My child!

The warm feel of your robe

Let the branches sway in the sun,

fountains leap and water run!

In the yard, a dog barks,

wind sings in the trees, on the air

Oxen low to the herdsman,

and the moon ruffles my hair

What do you wish for, my child,

from so far away?

The white hills of your breast

Let the branches sway in the sun,

fountains leap and water run!

When, my child,

will you come to me?

When your skin

smells of jasmine

If I ever

called on you

and you did not come...

a bitter death...

my companion,

is all I would wish for

You've taken the wrong path.

What?

You've taken the wrong path.

Taking the wrong path means arriving at the snow.

Arriving at the snow...

What is it?

What is arriving at the snow?

I had a son.

My son.

He was drowned at the water trough,

right at my own door.

For a hundred days I was not allowed to hug him.

They said he had

tiny

feet.

Can you understand that?

A thin trickle of red blood flowed from his mouth

and he turned pale

as a wave.

I'm sorry.

I remember you in your crib.

So pale.

I thought you were a snow child

and that at any moment you could melt.

I thought they had killed you,

but here you are...

You mistake me for someone else, I'm sorry.

My son!

That's it.

Let's go.

There you go.

José, let's go!

One moment. He's almost got it. Look how beautiful.

We have to wake up early!

The sun never rises.

Carlitos!

Where are you going?

What are you doing here all alone,

and so late?

It's equally late for you.

But a man alone

in these dark streets...

Where were you going?

- Who are you, the police? - Of course not.

Come with us, we've got cigarettes and rum.

The shoemaker's daughters are waiting for us. Come!

I can't, I've got things to do early in the morning.

You should listen to your father, Carlos.

You should spend more time with us.

And forget about those friends of yours.

I don't like saying this, but you know people talk a lot.

They say... They say...

That friend of yours. What's his name?

- Enrique? - That one.

An anarchist!

Not to mention...

Lorenzo.

You know what they say, don't you?

What do they say?

New customs...

But don't worry.

Things will go back to the way they were.

If necessary, with three bullets in the head.

We're going now, the girls are waiting for us.

You were a footballer, right?

I was a lot of things.

Were you well known?

"Were"?

It's a manner of speaking.

I gave it up.

What about your parents?

What about them?

Who are they? What are their names?

Why do you want to know?

- Didn't you want to talk? - But you didn't.

All right, we won't talk.

End of the match!

My parents are called Lucio and María.

They live in Madrid,

but they're from Jaca.

My father works for a French gasoline company.

I have two siblings.

María and Tomás.

María is a seamstress.

My brother is an infantry lieutenant.

Where is your brother?

I don't know.

I haven't heard from him in a long time.

I haven't heard from anyone in a long time.

- If anything happens to me... - Quiet.

- This is important. Listen. - No. Be quiet.

- If anything happens... - Like what?

- They will kill me. - No, you'll be tried and questioned.

They'll shoot me after the interrogation.

That won't happen.

I'd rather get killed than tell them anything.

Is that why you tried to die at the front?

You're asking a lot of questions.

Who told you that?

Give me a cigarette and I'll tell you.

Stop!

He's escaping! Help, he's escaping!

Stop or I'll shoot!

Stop!

- What happened? - He just escaped!

- What happened? - He ran away, dammit!

He's injured! He's injured!

What the hell are you doing?

He's injured!

Stop!

- He's injured! - Stop!

In 70 meters, turn left.

Take the second exit at the roundabout.

Coming!

Hello.

What can I do for you?

I'm looking for Pedro Iguña.

He's not here now.

I had an appointment with him now.

Now?

- Is this number 68? - Yes.

- Does Pedro live here? - He does,

but he's not here.

I doubt he gave you an appointment at this time on a Friday.

- But it's 3 p.m. - Yes, but it's Friday.

I'm in a hurry,

I have to go back to Madrid.

To Madrid?

- I'm Alberto. - Alberto, Mr. Azcuna's grandson.

I'm Goyita, I was a friend of your grandpa. Give me a kiss.

- Nice to meet you. - Likewise.

Wait, give me a moment.

Where's my bag?

- Where is Pedro? - Don't worry. He's nearby.

- We'll fix this in a moment. - Alright.

You look like him.

You look like your grandpa.

I'm in a hurry, my train leaves at 8.

- Rogelia, happy birthday! - Thank you.

How old are you?

Four? Only four?

You're so young!

- Brand new! - Brand new!

Pedro doesn't practice anymore,

he just takes some cases for relatives,

friends... like your grandfather.

But I manage the important stuff.

Do you work together?

I've been helping him since I was little.

Bye, guys!

Hey! Have you forgotten to go home?

Let's go!

Let's go, come on!

We're just talking about life here.

- He'll tell you more tomorrow. - I just got separated.

We have work to do. Get up.

- We're drinking. I'm telling him... - Continue tomorrow!

- Please! - You do it every day anyway.

- Unbelievable! - That's enough.

What do you care how long we've been here?

You're in such a state!

Get in the car. We have work to do.

- Get in. - It's so hot today!

Shut up, Sonia! You're getting on my nerves!

Get in here.

Careful.

Mind your head.

I can't believe this...

You also come to the bar, huh!

You're unbelievable.

This is horrible!

Get in.

Cheers to you!

No, I'm not getting in, Goyita.

I'll take you to your grandpa's house.

Goyita, I'm not going to my grandpa's house.

I just want to check the will and go back to Madrid.

- I can't do that, it has to be him. - Why?

Because in the fifth clause of the will

only the executor can give you the envelope you inherited.

And the executor has taken Friday very seriously!

This is unbelievable.

You can stay at your grandfather's house, it's very cute.

You'll be just fine there.

Get in, come on.

We'll do it first thing in the morning.

Goyita...

Where's your plug? Have you lost it again?

Holy shit...

Where's your plug? I can't understand you otherwise.

Hold on, Alberto.

- Sonia. - Yes, Goyita?

- Have you seen the plug? - What plug?

- The one he uses to talk. - It's not here.

He didn't have it,

I'm the only one talking.

- My God, you're incredible! - You know I went out last night.

- Have you seen the plug? - He didn't bring it.

He must have had it!

Your grandfather loved you very much.

YOUNG WRITER ALBERTO LÓPEZ AZCUNA PRESENTS FIRST TRAGICOMEDY IN MADRID

He had a cutting about me.

A cutting about you?

A newspaper cutting.

About the play I did after drama school.

- The last one you wrote? - Yeah.

Where did he have it?

In a photo album.

That's so cute, isn't it?

He was a fan without knowing you.

He must've been proud of you.

A bit weird, isn't it?

I think, I don't know...

Why is it weird?

I think it's sweet.

Because he didn't know me, you said so yourself.

It is weird, Juan Pablo.

What are you doing?

He was very handsome.

Coming!

Your grandfather?

My grandfather, when he was young.

He was very handsome and had long eyelashes, his eyes were huge.

Mom.

Listen.

I'm beat.

It's just for one night.

Yes, I'll be back in Madrid tomorrow.

I won't bother you then.

Love you!

Handsome!

- Love you. - Bye, handsome.

A flashlight, a lighter, or whatever.

They're very smart, those motherfuckers.

He was scared.

- Nené Romero. - Is she the one coming tonight?

She looks like your sister.

Tinín, will you fuck her?

Where have you left him?

- What? - The red. Where is he?

- Upstairs. - Upstairs?

Don't let him escape again, we won't cover for you.

Watch him.

Soldiers!

Prepare your guns!

No, I'm not a red!

Take aim!

Please no! I have a family!

I have a son!

No, please!

Take aim!

Fire!

Sorry.

Come on, lean back.

Like this.

Hello.

Lucía!

Two trucks just arrived from Santander, they're a mess.

- Where are they? - Downstairs.

You!

Dry him.

Be gentle, all right?

So the wounds can heal.

- Are the reinforcements here? - Yes, they're here.

Why don't you call Petra

and the guys on the fifth floor?

Stand up.

Are you angry?

Angry?

Turn around.

- It hurts, huh? - Yes, here.

If you had stayed still...

How could I stay still?

I'm sorry.

Come on, get dressed.

Can you help me?

No.

TO RAFAEL

Ready.

"You will never know how much I love you

for you sleep within me..."

Where did you get that?

"I hide you in tears, persecuted..."

Give it to me. It's mine.

What is it?

Give it back.

What is it anyway?

It's a poem.

Who wrote it?

It's a gift. From someone in Madrid.

Madrid?

Are we close to Santander?

Yes. Why?

Because it's the third time I've been here.

My first time was

three or four years ago.

It was summer,

but it was raining, like now.

On an excursion?

No. With the group.

What group?

Theater.

Were you an actor?

No.

I was the secretary,

and the driver.

But sometimes I had to go on stage.

Did a lot of people go to see you?

Yes.

Maybe you've heard of us.

La Barraca.

We were a university theater group.

We did classical theater.

We'd go from town to town.

- The Republic wanted... - Were there musicians?

Were there musicians?

Of course there were musicians.

A cousin of mine, from Torrelavega,

told me that a theater company performed there.

There were musicians who...

who were not seen. They were behind the actors.

That is common, right?

Yes.

How is he?

Fine. He's fine.

Resting.

That's what I'd like.

What is?

To play in a theater.

In a good suit.

Being able to see everyone, but let no one see me.

As if I was invisible.

What is your name?

What do you care?

Any girls?

- Girlfriend? - Yes.

No.

What about you?

Before the war there was one.

Conchita.

She died of anemia.

I'm sorry.

Is the poem hers?

No,

not exactly.

Then why won't you let me read it?

"You will never know how much I love you

for you sleep within me

and are asleep.

I hide you

in tears, persecuted...

by a voice of penetrating steel.

The law that stirs

both flesh and star

now pierces my aching breast

and dark words bite

into the wings of your guarded spirit."

Rafael.

Yes?

I don't understand any of it.

The will of Mr. Azcuna García.

Opened in front of his grandson, Alberto López Azcuna.

In accordance with the wishes of the testator,

the lawyer Pedro Iguña

was named executor of the will.

Okay.

This is what he's left you.

All the arrangements for the burial have already been carried out

and the remaining material goods were inherited by your mother.

But this is just for you.

Alright.

"To my grandson, Pedro is going to give you a letter.

I ask you to find the Rodríguez Rapún family

and give it to them.

Your grandfather will be able to rest in peace

if he knows that he has fulfilled his promise,

even if it is late."

"To my father,

they treated me well and I was calm until the end.

To my brother Tomás,

keep studying. Don't be as distracted as me.

I'm sorry I didn't spend more time with you.

To my sister,

don't listen to dad and find a good boyfriend

who goes with you to dances and bars,

like when we went together.

To my mother,

remember me with joy as I do now."

"He will also give you an envelope with a manuscript.

You will understand its value and will know what to do with it."

What is this?

He never explained anything to us.

He just left these instructions.

He never talked much about the past.

Excuse me, can I have the newspaper? Are you done?

Yes. Yes. All yours.

BLACK BALL

The military coup against the Republic has failed.

The enraged people crowd the streets looking for the traitors.

The authorities call for calm

while soldiers and their accomplices are arrested.

What are you doing here?

Aren't you glad to see me?

- You know I am. - Give me a hug.

Sometimes I think that you are made of snow.

If I speak to you very closely, you're going to melt.

You, on the other hand, your hands are warm.

It's blazing down outside.

I'm close to suffocating.

Why is this very new heart so upset?

If I told you, this house would collapse.

Can I do anything to ease your grief?

I don't know.

I wish you could.

Are you going back to the casino?

I must.

Today, in fact.

And what will you say?

Don't go back to that casino. Even if your father wants you to.

I'm certain there are traitors and soldiers hiding there.

Come to the square with me, where they can't drown you.

There is a new Granada awakening on every street.

As it opens its thousand balconies to greater freedom.

And there is another ancient Granada

that wants to freeze our blood.

Your life is with those people determined to rise up.

Snow child!

Come with me.

Have you nothing to say?

I have forgotten all the words.

We cannot forget the coup to our Republic.

Such despicable provocation

can only be answered with a general strike.

I'm leaving.

Carlos, remember

to say the exact words I told you to say.

No others!

Understood?

Understood.

When you get there...

firm handshakes and your voice always loud.

They won't dare blackball you again.

- Are you going out? - Yes, mother.

Why can he go out and I can't?

I'm longing to go out on the streets and turn black as coal!

Enough, Valentina.

Do your embroidery and sit still.

I will embroider my flesh!

You're not going anywhere.

Since I woke up, I've had a feeling of unease.

He has to close a deal with the owners of a sugar mill.

Haven't you heard the radio? We should take to the streets.

Can't that wait?

Don't talk about what you don't know.

No, I'll just stare at the wall.

Well, I'm leaving.

Carlos!

Don't be a gossip, Valentina.

A coffee or a hot drink?

No, thanks.

- Any snack? - No.

- Water? Sparkling water? - Nothing, thanks.

- Nothing? - No.

What's going on?

Nothing.

What aren't you telling me?

Not again...

Why don't you go to Madrid when summer is over?

I will speak to your father.

To Madrid?

You are not well in Granada.

And there you can have the life you want.

With discretion

and care.

- Mother, I don't... - I've saved money for the trip.

Mother, don't cry.

No, I never cry.

It's just this heat. My God!

Summer is the worst time in Granada.

You have to move the air with your arms to walk.

Carlos,

be careful.

Always.

Come here.

Mom, I just got back from Cantabria. I have called you 15 times.

Call me. It's important.

Let's go!

She's some kind of singer.

A singer and a whore.

A whore?

Anybody here from Madrid?

Me!

You! Have you been to the Ritz Hotel?

- No. - Of course not.

The Ritz is a first-class hotel

with gold cutlery,

leatherwork chosen by Enrique Loewe

and the finest porcelain from France.

You sure are fine!

Now it's full of soldiers.

Arriba España!

But back in the day...

it smelled nice.

Who's going to be our waiter tonight?

A hunk.

A hunk.

Let's see. You!

Come on, you hunk, up on stage. Come on.

Well, "hunk"

is a figure of speech.

This is

a racy foxtrot.

Sure.

If there are any minors here, go out to the hall.

Not you.

Nené!

- What do I do? - You're the waiter!

Hold the bottle erect before you spill it all.

Hold it!

The trick is in holding it erect.

I can hold it erect!

We girls used to go to the Ritz, with our mothers and aunts

for a thé dansant

and to look for some slacker to...

dance with.

I need

a girl and a slacker!

You

and the other one, the shy one,

get on the stage.

My period has come early.

- Do you have cloths? - Yes.

The Italian in the fourth row...

What are you looking at, rascal?

Why are you looking at me with that face?

Now, you shall be the girl!

- The girl? - Yes, smarty-pants.

And the song goes like this...

Fortunato, hit it, honey.

How are you, Fortunato?

Did you leave your wig at home?

The maestro plays so well.

He always hits the right keys...

I go every afternoon for tea at the Ritz Hotel

and after the tea I'm a real little devil

with a beau who is mad for me

Together we go out to dance...

we link in a passionate trance,

and in the end I have to tell him,

with fear,

and a blush on my cheek...

Faggots!

Hold him tight.

Squeeze.

Leave some room!

Don't be scared.

But the girl, who is decent,

will step back and say...

Oh, let go!

Don't squeeze me so!

Just so you know,

if you want to scare me,

my heart is weak,

and that is why any emotion could cause a commotion.

She likes it. I saw her staring.

Oh, please!

But she will take anything from you.

Coming from the far East...

the most exotic dancer...

With all of you, Miss Epileptic!

The weird one... Come on, we're on.

That hurt!

Nonsense.

Look, look, look! You hurt me!

- But I'm paying you! - Fuck off! Fuck off!

I could kill you!

Olga!

I swear! I'd throw you out of the window!

You liked it.

My ten pesetas!

Your pesetas...

Here you go!

Asshole!

Goodbye, sweetie.

Imbecile!

Come on in.

Me?

Come here. Look what that pig has done to me.

Look, look what he's done to me.

He bit me. Look!

Look, did he bite me or not?

Can you see? Is it bruised?

He sure has bitten you.

- It's red. - See?

Give me some of that liquor.

I'm feeling a bit dizzy.

Those Italians are real beasts!

Look, the other day I met another Italian man...

His hands were regal, beautiful...

like in a Bronzino painting.

Drink one as well.

He gave me a pair of leather shoes.

I was happy as a clam with my new shoes.

And the other day, I see an elderly woman

in the front row,

staring at my shoes...

And her face... It was the saddest face I've ever seen.

When the show ended, do you know what she told me?

What?

That she had recognized her daughter's shoes.

She had been executed two weeks before.

A dead woman's shoes.

That's what I was telling you,

Italians have no consideration.

They bombed my town, the Italians.

What side are you on?

The Nationalist.

Well, they put a rifle in my hand

and sent me here.

The Italians bombed my town by mistake.

Of course. By mistake. Sure.

You sing very well.

I do what I can, sweetie.

And I loved the song. This last one you sang.

I had never heard it before.

It's by my friend Edmond de Bries.

I don't know him.

Oh, Edmond...

You should have seen him performing in the music halls in Madrid.

His face...

Wearing a dress

much prettier than mine.

She was much prettier than me.

What do you mean prettier?

Edmond is a transvestite.

What is that?

A man who imitates women.

He did all of us, La Bella Otero, La Goya,

Pastora Imperio...

Not Raquel Meller. Not her.

He did it so well,

that even the men in the gallery dreamed of spending a night with him.

And did they?

Well, of course.

We did everything in Madrid.

We lived happily in mortal sin.

And look at us now.

I'd love to see your friend someday.

Me too.

But ever since all this started,

I don't know where he is.

Nené!

Or if he's still alive.

Coming!

Miss Epileptic is finishing.

Nené, hurry up!

I'm coming!

Do you know the nicest thing I learned from him?

What?

That transvestism

is the fantasy of possibility.

And war is just the opposite.

Nené, honey!

Coming!

Nené, wait.

Once this is over, I want to go to Madrid too.

Sure. I'll see you there.

- Nené! - Coming, dammit!

That's a bit privileged, dude.

We... We always...

He and I got out of the toilet

and we found him throwing up...

They had to get him out of there!

Hi, love!

- You're back! - Of course. I'm here now.

We kind of lost track of time...

I can see. It's 4 p.m.

- How did it go? - I'll tell you later. Good.

- I'm going to lie down. - No, no, no. Look!

- I want to lie down. - You're back. How are you?

How did it go?

We'll talk later.

Look. Do you remember Rocío?

Look who's here!

Have you seen them?

Look who's here!

Alberto, honey! How are you?

How are you, Rocío?

What are you doing here?

I took a train, but I'm going to bed, because I'm beat.

No, but we're good here.

- Did you have fun? - We are playing a game.

Who am I? Man or woman?

You're Pedro Almodóvar.

No, it's not like that!

I shouldn't have told you? Well, I...

I'm Pedro, girls!

- Tell me about the inheritance. - It's nothing...

- What do you mean it's nothing? - Just some papers. Papers.

- What about? - I haven't read them. I don't know.

What do you think it is?

Do you listen when I talk? I don't know, dude.

I know you're going through a difficult time...

Can we talk tomorrow, please?

We'll leave if you want.

No one needs to leave.

Honey, we'll leave. Really.

No need to, you can stay, I'm going to bed. That's it.

Do you have ice?

Turn the music down a little.

I'll get some ice.

I'm going to sleep.

Let's talk tomorrow.

That would be something new!

Very good.

Let's talk tomorrow.

I mean it, we'll leave.

I don't want bad vibes. We're leaving.

- We can go to someone else's house. - He's going to sleep.

- I'm leaving. - No, girl, I got the ice!

TO THE RODRÍGUEZ RAPÚN FAMILY

SPANISH FOOTBALLER, ACTOR AND SOLDIER

MEMBER OF LA BARRACA, TROUPE FOUNDED BY GARCÍA LORCA

BIRTH: JUNE 26, 1912 DEATH: AUGUST 18, 1937

PARTNER: FEDERICO GARCÍA LORCA

Spaniards, Santander is ours!

Let us finish celebrating the conquest by welcoming

the most fearsome battalion in our beloved nation.

With all of you...

Nené Romero and her Epileptic Delights!

They say that very soon...

If God doesn't interfere,

women will have to... Go to war!

And just as a precaution,

I am organizing...

My own battalion...

A battalion of dressmakers,

as pretty as can be,

and the merriest bunch to walk through Madrid

We're already learning the instruction with excitement,

hoping they appreciate our elegance all around

One, two, three,

here we go

One, two, three,

here we go

Beautiful! Beautiful!

Even the fiercest enemy

will come undone,

if we're determined...

- To what? - To do our best.

And any soldier

or general

would rather give up than fight us

Men are with us

very swaggering in peace time,

and they have us dominated

without letting us complain

But as soon as they see us

determined to fight,

with their mothers-in-law on front,

they won't stop running from us

One, two, three,

here we go

One, two, three,

here we go

Piss off!

No touching!

I just told you no touching!

No touching!

Get off me, dammit!

No touching! No touching, dammit!

What a bunch of bastards!

SANTANDER ALREADY BELONGS TO SPAIN

Look what I found!

Arnal...

Yes?

Do you know

what's going to happen to them?

To who?

The guys from Reinosa.

The reds.

They'll get killed.

What do you mean?

They are going to kill them.

But they have to question them.

They have to put them on trial.

That was this morning.

They were interrogated today.

People from the Falange came.

That's why we got the day off.

They might all be dead by now.

Why?

Why do you ask?

Where are you going?

Sebastián!

I'll stay with him.

I'll stay with him, I said.

Judging by the biographical works published in Spain,

it would seem that no Spaniard has ever loved anyone,

that no Spaniard has ever desired anyone.

That no Spaniard has ever written

a love letter.

Gerald Brenan.

Great friend of Virginia Woolf.

Gerald pointed out decades ago

that what impedes the creation of biographies in Spain

is the excessive shame

the families of the subjects of biographies feel,

which has historically led them

to destroy their private correspondence

or other personal papers,

without which

the biographer's work

is impossible.

But is it possible to separate

the work of an author like Federico García Lorca,

or Cernuda,

from his most intimate desires,

from his long-silenced homosexuality?

For me, it is impossible.

That's why

people say I'm an American obsessed with sex.

What I say is that

they are all, simply, homophobic.

Thank you very much, Isabelle.

It is curious that our greatest Hispanists are,

like you, people from outside of Spain.

Thank you.

You could write...

Among the theater plays that Federico García Lorca couldn't finish writing,

there is one in particular that talks about a young man

in Granada...

Who is rejected from a casino.

They reject him because he's homosexual.

That's La bola negra.

- La bola negra? - Yes.

I think I have the rest.

What?

I think I have the missing pages of La bola negra.

- It's not possible. - Yes, it is.

It's his handwriting.

It seems like it, right?

No. It's his handwriting.

FEDERICO GARCÍA LORCA: UNFINISHED THEATER.

La bola negra is a play

about a choice.

Yes, exactly.

Federico's first work

with an explicitly gay protagonist.

Where are you going, Carlos? Carlos!

There's one already in El público,

but in a much more cryptic way.

PEOPLE CARLOS - 20 YEARS OLD

THE MOTHER THE SISTER

THE SKIERS THE OLD WOMAN, THE SNOW

Here,

he wanted to reach everyone.

There's something I've been wondering for years.

What does Carlos decide?

What's happening out there?

People want blood, grandpa.

You may come in.

Will he tell the truth?

Or will he lie?

Read it.

Read it yourself.

Why have you come back to the casino?

I've come to...

to ask you to reconsider your decision to blackball me.

Black ball.

Black ball.

The members have blackballed you because your condition

is a well-known secret in this city.

Could you deny it?

They're upstairs! Go up! Upstairs! Let's go!

The people have broken down our doors!

It didn't work. It did not work.

Peasants, workers and students seek revenge.

We are in the middle of a vote.

The street is full of armed people. They think we're traitors.

Take the rifles out!

Not a soul enters!

Carlos!

Out!

Silence! Silence, I said!

Silence!

In 100 years of history, no vote has ever been suspended.

You know that we respect your father.

Mr. Vicente is one of the casino's oldest members.

But you will understand that men made of saliva

do not enter this house.

We need an answer to all questions.

Are you homosexual?

Yes...

or no?

No, I'm not.

Why did he give it to you now? Why you?

My grandfather passed very recently.

Very.

I think he knew that I used to write plays.

But I stopped.

Why?

I guess reality scares me less than fiction.

They are simply facts. Events.

Were you a good writer?

Well, I don't know.

Critics didn't think so.

And now, this has come your way.

"Only mystery keeps us alive.

Only mystery."

What do I do with the play, Isabelle?

You are a Spaniard indeed.

Who was your grandfather?

And most importantly,

why did he spend his entire life hiding

La bola negra?

Come to me all who are weary and overburdened.

Take my yoke upon you

and learn from me,

for I am gentle and humble in heart,

and you will find rest...

Blessing me before I get killed, bastard?

For my yoke...

Why don't you bless the murderers?

Be quiet!

What are you doing?

- Kill me! - Stop.

Out!

Come here.

Move, dammit!

You have to do me a favor. You have to recover some papers.

Some papers. It's a play. Please.

It is very important.

I promised him. Please.

What's going on?

Take him away.

Come on, let's go.

Head on.

THE SUN BEGINS TO RISE IN SPAIN

He got four more years of military service

after the war, that's all.

I'm not sure what's worse.

I'll say!

Beats getting killed for sure.

What's wrong?

You're not eating?

- I'm not hungry. - Not hungry, huh?

He's hungry, though.

Thank you, thank you.

Gimme some too.

That's it. All done.

You ate it all...

Finish your story.

It's just that...

They want us to believe they'll kill us if we desert,

but he only got another four years of service.

- Are you thinking of deserting? - No, not me...

Enjoying those beans?

Better than my own mother's, Lieutenant Colonel.

We're leaving at six tomorrow.

We're taking the Reinosa guys for a walk.

Yes, Lieutenant Colonel, sir.

You don't eat like this in Italy, huh?

No, Lieutenant Colonel, sir.

You could also do a route in Tresviso.

That's an easy one.

You go up the mountains, zigzagging.

You could do it in around 4 hours.

Hello?

- Who are you? - I'm looking for Rafael.

I don't know who that is, I can't see.

Who are you?

I'm looking for Rafael Rodríguez Rapún. I need to talk to him.

Get us out, please. They'll execute us.

Please.

Is Rafael there?

Rafael, please, they're asking after you.

Get us out, please.

Hello.

Rafael?

Why did you come? They'll kill you.

Go away.

What did you say about some papers? What did you want me to do?

A friend trusted me to keep something safe.

Who?

The poet who ran the theater company. Federico García Lorca.

- He got killed, didn't he? - Precisely.

Federico's stuff is at Alcalá Street, 96, in Madrid.

It's a play. It's called La bola negra.

It must be published after all this. Then it will all have been worth it.

What will?

Having met, you and I.

Promise me.

Don't move.

Get up!

What are you doing?

Hi. I'd like to speak to Tomás Rodríguez Rapún.

Please hold.

Okay, thank you.

Mr. Tomás, it's for you.

What do you want?

What the fuck were you doing?

He's getting killed! Get it?

He's getting killed!

You're an idiot, dammit!

Wait, wait, wait!

Riccardo!

Hello? Who's this?

Hello, I'm calling because my grandfather knew your brother...

Rafael?

Yes, Rafael.

My grandfather was Sebastián, Sebastián Azcuna.

Azcuna?

Sebastián Azcuna.

Hello?

Mom?

Javier?

Oh, it's you.

It's me, yeah, don't be so happy to see me.

Was Javier outside?

I don't know who Javier is.

He ran off and left me with this huge mess.

Move, dammit.

I've been calling you all week...

I don't know where my phone is. Can't you see I'm in a muddle?

Yeah, I don't get what the hell you're doing to the house.

Listen...

What?

- I went to Cantabria. - I told you not to.

- How could I not? - You could've!

Could've listened to me for once.

Your father left me a play.

Great, there you go, a play. Mystery's over.

An unpublished play. By Lorca.

Great. Read it if you'd like.

Why did he have it?

I don't fucking know, Alberto!

The balls!

Fucking hell...

By the way, hey, guys,

before you go, close the windows upstairs. I've got this guy.

- Again? Yet another day? - What do you mean "again"?

- Yeah. Okay, boss. - No, seriously. Yes.

I can't do shit with this guy here.

Please, say something. You must know something.

Look, you know what I do know?

That your grandfather would've shot you dead for being a faggot.

Come on...

That's the truth.

Your grandpa was a fascist. Don't you get it?

Here. The balls...

I've tried all my life, but I don't understand you.

- Well... - I don't understand you.

It's not that hard to understand either, really.

That man

abandoned me.

Do you understand that? Do you get that?

Yes, I get it, he abandoned you.

- I grew up alone. - Oh, you grew up alone?

I've also grown up alone, but I still talk to you.

I can't anymore.

- What the hell? - I'm peeing.

I don't have a septic tank, okay?

Shit... Dude...

- This is just great... - Yeah, you see...

I too grew up alone, but I'm here talking to you.

Come on, man!

- What is it? - You can't compare.

I'll tell you about my childhood, we can talk.

No, you don't need to tell me. I was there. I'm your mother.

- Oh, you were? - Yes, I was.

- I was there. - We don't remember the same.

I know. We never agree on anything.

No, of course not.

But you were a happy child.

Why are you lying?

Don't make up stories because you're no longer in the theater.

You were a happy child.

What are you on about, girl?

I wasn't a happy child and you never fucking apologized.

Apologize? Apologize to you?

Did I ever hit you? What have I done to you?

You know how hard it was to raise you?

For you to look down your nose at me every day...

I remember you very chill, gin and tonic in hand and all,

or doing cocaine lines.

Like you've never taken drugs... Huh?

Come on, you're always medicated.

Of course I've used drugs. Of course!

But not with a five-year-old in my care.

I did what I could! Okay?

I was alone, your father abandoned me. What could I do?

I did what I could, I swear.

Maybe you're the reason everyone abandons you. I don't know.

Go to hell.

One minute.

Don't worry.

You have to remain calm.

My name is Sebastián.

My name is Sebastián.

Don't worry, Sebastián.

This is all going to end soon.

And I will not disappear completely. Nobody disappears completely.

Promise me that you'll do what I asked.

Why is it so important?

Because I promised him.

The first time I met him,

I couldn't move from the spot.

My muscles lost all strength.

Until we said goodbye.

I got home and vomited.

I didn't understand what was happening to me.

But then he kissed me.

And I didn't move away.

After a week without seeing him, I couldn't breathe.

But people talked too much.

"Federico's friend."

"Rapún, the boy who's always with Lorca."

And I let him go.

He left with a broken heart.

And they killed him.

Who could forgive me for that, Sebastián?

Who could forgive me?

I ask myself the same thing.

Who did you leave behind?

My mother...

And you.

Carlos!

I remember seeing you at the theater long ago.

Then my husband pulled out the guitar strings.

What for?

To tie both my hands.

Then the broken pulse, and my flesh so pale...

We are looking for my mother.

Do you remember her?

She drank liquor from a tin cup.

The woman who sewed the air with silver pins?

That's her! Did you see her?

I didn't see anything here.

Come on, then.

Wait.

The wound that the kids gave me on my back hurts.

My wrists hurt

and my heart, which doesn't beat!

But we have to go on.

Wait.

Where are you going?

Where the snow falls and becomes whiter.

I keep my desire

hidden away in a locket,

a relic

from the Andalusian empire.

I am waiting for that instant,

on this Earth, which is giant.

Lurking, there's a glimpse of light.

We can't go on like this.

I cannot blink now.

We can't.

Listen, it may sound silly...

Dark words I never set fire to,

are burning now.

And so do you...

Let's take you for a walk!

Why the long face? Smile!

What's wrong? What you looking at? Didn't you hear?

What's wrong with you? Go, take him, dammit!

Come on, dammit! Are you not listening?

Everyone present?

Yes, Lieutenant Colonel, sir.

Let's go then.

I am the first to arrive

to the place where a thousand fires burn.

Flesh

and bright stars

forged the cross I now bear.

I'm squarely looking

at my twenties.

Who's not afraid of the sun

anyway?

I arrive at the snow.

Listen, it may sound silly...

Dark words I never set fire to,

are burning now.

And so do you...

When

I was born...

well, my father abandoned my mother and me.

And my mother always blamed me for that, you know? So...

And, honestly, now that they're both dead

and I've sold the house...

I finally have a little peace.

You know?

Who did you sell the house to?

Madrid's cool, huh?

Had you been here, Ramón?

Yes, I lived here when I was young.

And then I came once with Sebastián,

to the theater.

We saw your play.

Excuse me?

We saw your play.

And we really liked it.

Well, thank you very much.

Excuse me, Ramón,

but we can't sign the sale of the house.

Why?

So, we came here for nothing?

One second, Goyita, please.

I understand that you spoke with my mother

and you two reached an agreement.

Leaving aside the ridiculous price you agreed upon,

I personally cannot allow it because

I believe that there are things of value in that house.

Things that my grandfather kept throughout his life.

You already got the play.

In that house the only thing of value that remains are my memories.

Excuse me?

- Okay, a coffee with milk? - For him.

How do you know about the play?

That one's for me...

Tell them, Ramón.

How did you know my father?

Your father and I met...

at a gay cinema.

On Carretas Street, it's close by.

I would go to the cinema looking for fleeting encounters.

But the day I met your father was different.

He came up to me and said hello.

I left, trembling.

I don't know whether it was fear or shame.

But I went back the following day

to see if I could find him there.

And there he was.

Your mother was pregnant with you at the time.

He wanted to have you.

That's not how it turned out. He left us.

Well, the situation was unsustainable.

And your mother ended up finding out.

We went to the countryside.

And we lived our entire lives in that house.

In town, we said we were cousins.

We loved each other...

We took care of each other.

I don't know if he was ever happy...

The heart of a faggot is an ocean full of secrets...

I'm going to the washroom.

I'll go with you, dear.

Why did he have the play, Ramón?

Because he promised a man that he would keep it.

A man named...

Rafael Rodríguez Rapún.

Yes.

The other day I called

his brother on the phone and he hung up on me.

Well, because he probably knew.

Knew what?

That your grandfather killed Rafael.

Excuse me?

If they ask you to do it, just do it.

Stop, stop, stop!

Stop, stop!

Listen...

Tell my father I was treated well and I was calm to the end.

Tell my brother not to be dumb and carry on studying,

and that I'm sorry I didn't spend more time with him.

Tell my sister she's not to listen to my father

and to find a good boyfriend

who takes her dancing. To have fun.

And tell my mother to remember me with joy,

as I'm doing now.

Will you find them?

Thank you.

I was very scared, Sebastián.

But I found you.

Go on, go on!

I said eyes on the ground!

Dammit!

Finally, you have arrived.

I'm very, very cold.

If only I could turn

into a woolen blanket

or a little fire for your chest,

or a hut

so you could go inside

and stop shaking...

Who is speaking?

The first time we saw each other you were a child.

You saw me covering the roofs,

the poplars and meadows.

You reached out your hand to touch me,

and your heart trembled.

Now do you remember me?

I never managed to get out of the casino, did I?

Here you won't feel the burns.

But I didn't have time to live!

Let me go back, please.

No one can go back.

Behind, everything stays still.

Only a murmur of nostalgia

and dreams reaches here.

I feel I have never lived because the hours have not belonged to me.

I thought that later...

Later!

There is only now.

Now.

Clothes tear,

anchors rust,

and on we go.

Stand in formation!

Eyes grow dim,

and a very sharp sickle

cuts the reeds on the banks.

That is why one must live, Carlos.

Always live.

What if they don't find me...?

The time has come.

What if they don't find me?

Lay your head on me.

Don't worry.

Let me cover you.

Attention!

Load your weapons!

Take aim!

Fire!

Shoot, Azcuna!

Fire!

Shoot...

Sebastián, shoot.

Fire!

Shoot!

At ease!

Where did you leave the Gypsy girl?

I don't know.

She's probably back in her house.

Very well. She can stay there.

What about the blond guy?

He's probably in Albacete.

Are you all right?

I have my tragedies too.

And you?

I'm fine.

Writing.

Did you finish the play about the sisters?

Yes.

My mother wants me to change the names,

because I'm talking directly about a family in town.

And what are you going to do?

Leave it as is.

And the new one? What is it?

It is a realistic drama.

Like the ones by Linares Rivas.

Not a gram of poetry.

A play about people like you and me.

What sort of people?

The other sort.

The ones who paint beauty spots on themselves.

The ones who part their hair in the middle.

But I don't do any of that.

But your tragedies are the same.

It's about what we miss when we deny ourselves.

And what do we miss?

Life.

Look, when I was a boy,

the workers in my town bought new plows

with steel spikes, that scratched the land.

I, a curious child,

watched the plow as it advanced:

I liked seeing the gash in the soil,

from which roots would sprout instead of blood.

One time, the plow stopped.

It had come up against a Greek mosaic,

buried centuries before,

with the story of Daphnis and Chloe.

A love story.

This country

has too many love stories buried in the fields.

We have to scratch the earth so they can emerge.

So more of them can exist.

I hear you're going to Granada.

Yes.

Why?

What am I doing in Madrid anyway?

Things are getting ugly, Federico.

We can defend you here.

And who will defend me against your beauty?

Federico?

And Rafael!

Come on, let's take a picture.

We'll be right there.

Listen, if anything happens to me,

protect the play.

I think it can help people like me and like you,

but younger.

Help them how?

So they don't end up like me and you.

Federico...

Yes?

Be careful, please.

If I die,

make sure the gentlemen know.

"You will never know how much I love you...

for you sleep within me, and are asleep."

"You will never know how much I love you

for you sleep within me,

and are asleep."

What is the name of the play?

"La bola negra".

You won't manage...

Manage what?

To write something devoid of poetry.

I'm sure it ends up snowing in summer or something.

"I hide you in tears..."

"Persecuted by a voice of penetrating steel."

How are you?

Great.

Do you need anything?

We're very comfortable.

Very well.

Your grandfather would be so happy

to see you in your own home, with your job and your boyfriend.

"The law that stirs both flesh and star..."

He would feel such joy.

"Now pierces my aching breast,

and dark words bite into

the wings of your guarded spirit.

Crowds surge through the gardens

waiting for your body and my agony

on horses of light with green manes."

- I'm going now. - What's all this?

I'm picking up some things, I was leaving.

Take whatever you want,

but I came for La bola negra.

How do you know...? Who are you?

La bola negra, where is it? Look for it.

Give it to me.

- Come on. - It's here somewhere.

Is this it?

"Crowds surge through the gardens

waiting for your body and my agony

on horses of light with green manes.

But sleep on, my love...

Listen to my broken blood in the violins!

Beware, they still haunt us!"

Based on La piedra oscura by Alberto Conejero,

La bola negra and other texts by Federico García Lorca