All language subtitles for THE CITY OF YOUR FINAL_Eng

[rhythmic instrumental music]

[sweeping wistful music]

[sprawling music]

[dog barking]

- Victor.

Victor!
Victor, come on!

Ooph!

Bad dog.

[barking]

[birds singing]

[barking continues]

Charles!

- Oh, hi.

Oh, what have you been doing?

There's South American stamps
on here.

You must know somebody
in Uruguay, Mr. Razaghi.

- Sort of.

- I hope it's good news.

- Thank you.

[dog barks]

- "we do not see the need
for an authorized

"biography of Jules Gund
at this time,

nor at any time in the future"?

- Why would they
deny me authorization?

It's not like
everyone in the world

is working on a biography
of Jules Gund.

- Which one is Caroline Gund?

- The widow.

There's a daughter too,
but she didn't sign.

- So who's Arden Langdon?

- She's the uh...
mistress, I guess.

Adam Gund, that's the brother.

And Ocho Rios is the place

where they all lived together
when Jules Gund was alive.

- That's quite a setup:

the brother, the widow,
the lover, a daughter.

That's probably why they don't
want to authorize a biography.

It's too tortured
and incestuous.

Wait.

"Your request has prompted
much discussion

amongst the trustees."

That could mean
they don't all agree.

[keys jingling]

You'll have to go to Uruguay.

- What?

After that letter?

- Confront the three executors

and make them
change their minds.

It may be easier than you think.

- But they said "no."

- Mm.

You know perfectly well

that without
getting their permission,

there's no fellowship, no money,
no biography,

and no new contract for you
at the university.

Omar, you'll never
get another teaching job.

And what else can you do?

- Nothing.

- Exactly.

I forgot to heat the milk.

Do you think it matters?

- I've never heard of a sublet
that comes with a dog,

and one
with such an elaborate diet.

[cracking]

- [sighs]

- How could you do that,
fall in a puddle?

- It wasn't a puddle.

It was quicksand.

- For you, it's quicksand.

For everyone else,
it's a puddle.

It's like you have this
subconscious drive

to fall in, to mess up.

I think I should come with you

to Uruguay.

I've had more experience
with things like that.

- No.

I think I should go by myself,

if I decide to go.

- Well, if you decide to go,

I think it would be better
for us to do it together.

Better for us
individually and as a couple.

- I think it'll be better
for both of us

individually and as a couple

if I were to go by myself.

But I appreciate your offer.

- You appreciate my offer?

- Mm-hmm.

- Omar, it's me, Deirdre.

You don't appreciate my offer.

- I almost drowned in quicksand.

I saw my life
flash before my eyes,

and I did not like what I saw.

I've decided to change my life.

I have to be,
you know, more independent.

Like other people.

[sighs]

- I don't want you
to be like other people,

to change.

[dog barks]

[barking continues]

- Oh, what's wrong, buddy?

You want to go outside?
Let's go outside.

Come on.

Come on!

Oh.
Buddy.

- Hopeless.

- Out you go.

[door shuts]

[distant barking]

- If you fly to Miami first,

it's nonstop from there
to Montevideo.

But that's horribly expensive.

- What about Victor?

- He's not your dog.

We'll put him in a pound.

Most of them
have a 30-day grace period.

You can redeem him
when you get back.

- Deirdre,

he's part of the house-sit.

I'm responsible for him.

We can't just throw him
in the pound.

- Ah, this is better.

From Houston to Sao Paulo,

then Montevideo.

For some reason,
it's much cheaper.

Ah, it takes much longer.

Don't do that now.

[keyboard clacking]

I'm hurt.

[sighs deeply]

[birds singing]

[horse neighs]

[indistinct voices and whistles]

- Senor.

- Si.
- Por favor.

[both speaking Spanish]

[excited chatter]

[cattle lowing]

- [whistling]

[indistinct shouting]

- Are you coming to Ocho Rios?

That's my house.

- You speak English.
- Of course.

And Spanish.

- I'm Omar.

Omar Razaghi.

- I'm Portia.

Why are you coming to Ocho Rios?

- I want to write a book.

I want to write a biography
about Jules Gund.

Have you heard of him?

- He was my father.

- Your father?

- Mm-hmm.

[horse snorts]

[dog barking]

This is Omar.

He's writing a book.

This is my mother.

- Mrs. Gund?

I'm Omar Razaghi.

I wrote you the letter

about the biography.

- My name's Arden Langdon.

Caroline...

she's Mrs. Gund.

But we wrote to you.

We said no.

We very definitely said no.

- Yes, that's why I'm here.

I'm hoping
you'll change your minds.

I guess
I should have written first.

It was very wrong of me
to come like this.

I have to find a hotel.

- Where?

There's nothing except
this place for miles and miles.

- I can sleep outdoors
in the garden,

if you'll let me.

- Don't be ridiculous.

Now that you're here,

there's nowhere else
for you to go,

so till we can get you
back into town,

we'll have to let you stay.

- Really?

[horse neighs]

- Mad women and Englishmen:

why they would want to walk here
in the sun is beyond me.

Of course, those two ladies
are always beyond me.

Can you help me with my cravat,
please?

You know,
I've always liked this cravat.

I bought it in Venice in 1 966.

I must have been happy
at the time.

Otherwise, why would I have
bought such a beautiful thing?

I look very handsome in that.

- They're walking like...

they're bringing important news.

- Oh, what news?

Great tidings at Ocho Rios.

They do look serious,
don't they?

Supposing we...

stuck by our decision
to refuse authorization.

- Then he shall have come
very far for nothing.

- Yes, but he can still
write the biography

without authorization.

That is,
without our help and consent.

That would give him
quite a free hand, wouldn't it?

To make up things,
to make up stories,

twist the facts.

You know, once these people,

these biographers
turn against you,

they can become quite vicious.

- Oh, he didn't look
as if he could ever be that.

- How do you know?

You only saw him
for five minutes

before at once
inviting him to stay.

- He looked so tired
and helpless somehow.

- And young and handsome.

- Oh, really?

- That has nothing
to do with it.

- Anyway, Jules said he didn't
want a biography of himself.

He said it was like having
one's corpse publicly exhumed.

- Oh, when did he say that?

- In a letter to me years ago.

- [gasps]
My god.

Well, if we were
held accountable

for the things we wrote in
letters millions of years ago,

my dear,
where would any of us be?

But he must have told you
other things.

Um, for instance,
that he would be married

and faithful to you
forever and ever.

- He was.

He stayed married to me.

- Oh.

And Arden didn't count,
or Portia?

- Caroline didn't say that.

The days pass,
and we live together,

Caroline and I,

and we manage it.

Quite well, I think.

And now this.

- [sighs]

Adam's so moody nowadays.

- It's because of you.

He's afraid you'll leave him.

I used to live like that,

always afraid
that Jules would leave me.

He'd get into those black moods,

not speak to me for days on end,

not to anyone,

not to Caroline.

And I thought
that she'd turn against me

and get him to send me away.

Where would I go?

- That's all in the past.

- Yes, it's strange.

Everything's easier.

But now
when some stranger arrives...

- Is he young and handsome?

- It depends
what you mean by that.

Can you find any more teaspoons?

How can we just send him away?

Tell him,
"Goodbye; go home"?

- We're not.

We're even letting him stay
in the house.

We're being very friendly.

- But then he might start to
think we've changed our minds.

- That's his problem.

I can be friendly
without changing my mind.

- Well, he must have come here
with such hope.

- Let's think about this.

A biography would stimulate
interest in Jules' work,

and that is something that we,
as his executors,

should encourage.

Anyway, let's not make
any hasty decisions, shall we?

- My decision's made,
and it's not hasty.

And Arden, for her own reasons,
is on my side.

You are, aren't you?

Yes, you are.

So that's two
against one, Adam.

- Well, I refuse
to be guided by anything

as stupid as democracy.

[crickets and frogs chirping]

[clicking and rustling]

- [whispering]
Portia.

Mustn't disturb him.

- Are we gonna whisper
all night?

Hmm?

- He's come a long way.
He must be tired.

[dishes clinking]

[chirping continues]

[water dripping]

[squeaking]

[pipes rumbling and knocking]

[water sloshing]

[squeaking]

[spraying]

[dramatic opera music]

[hose spraying]

[telephone ringing]

[opera music continues]

- Hello?

[distant opera music]
- Hello?

I would like to speak
to Omar Razaghi, please.

- Dee!

- Omar?
- Hi.

How did you get this number?

- You don't sound like Omar.

Are you eating something?

- Yes, bread and honey.

- What?

- Honey.

- Darling, I miss you too.

But you won't be away long.

What's it like there?

I guess they're all pretty old.

I only hope they're not senile.

- Well, it might take longer
than we thought.

- Can't you stop eating
for a minute?

- We have a very bad connection.

- I told you to get a cell phone
when you went down there.

It could have come
out of the fellowship money.

[high-pitched beeping]

- Are you there?
Dee?

- Omar?

[fax machine beeping
and whirring]

- Dee, are you there?
[beeping continues]

- Hello?

[beeping]
click!

[electronic whirring]

- Thank you for the bread
and the honey.

It was delicious.

- It's from our own bees.

You know anything about bees?

- Bees.

I know they live in an apiary,

a word derived from apis,

which is Latin for "bee."

This is not
very interesting information.

- [laughs]

[loud opera music]

- I can't believe it.

You read a book and you think
all about the place,

but you don't really think
that it exists,

let alone that you'll be there.

Let me help you with that.

- Oh.
[giggles]

- [indistinct speech]

[opera music continues]

- Coming here, to Ocho Rios,

was like coming
to my first home,

the first I ever had.

My parents were divorced,

and I went back and forth
between them.

No one really cared.

They both died in plane crashes,

two different planes.

He was on his way to Prague

for one of his
not very successful films,

and Mother
was going to Hong Kong

to get married...
again.

- All the years in America,

my parents wanted to go back
to Tehran,

but it never worked out.

- What did they do?

- They were doctors,

pediatricians.

They died
four years ago.

First my mother, then my father
after a few months.

So we're both orphans.

- I think I was born an orphan.

I was 1 8 when Jules
first brought me here.

That was ten years ago.

- I was 1 8 ten years ago.

You and I are the same age,

born at the same time.

We could be brother and sister.

- Twins.

Only twins
can be born at the same time.

- Oh.

I am Omar Razaghi.

- Yes, I know who you are,
my friend.

You're the biographer

who showed up
in spite of our letter.

And what are you giving him?

Oh, what--tea?

Oh, really, Arden,

you'll have to give him
something better than that

to compensate
for his long journey here

and back.

How about some champagne?

- Champagne?

At this time of day?

- Well, is there a special
time of the day for champagne?

Well, if so, it is now.

Hmm?

You're flirting with him.

- What?

- When you start opening up

the beautiful secrets
of your past----

"I was born an orphan"---

that's flirting.

- Caroline,
try not to tease and provoke.

- Oh, come on.

How often do we have a guest,

even an uninvited one?

- I may not
make it back tonight.

- Why not?

- Business,

as you know perfectly well.

- I know your business
perfectly well:

antique furniture,
and some of it not so antique.

- We need to raise some cash.

- I know.

- Land taxes are due
next month.

You have all this land;

you pay big taxes on it.
- Mm-hmm.

- You don't try
to make it work for you.

Sorry to spoil your mood,

but try and be sensible.

- I'm willing to be sensible,

but can you imagine
the other two

ever agreeing to anything?

I mean, look what's happening

with this
foolish little biography,

which, for all I know,
could be to our advantage.

But Caroline's only pleasure
left in life

is to say "no" to everything.

And as for poor Arden,
well...

I wish you had more of a life
of your own.

- I do have.

- Yeah.

It saddens me.

I think I was wrong
to bring you here.

Sorry.

Hey.

- [speaking Spanish]

- Hola!

Ah.

Hello, darling.

Champagne.

[sighs]

Is there a little drop
for me left, do you think?

Ah, the guest.
- Hello, sir.

- Mr. Ragazi
received our letter,

but as you see,
it did not discourage him

from coming to visit,
so now we're all having a party.

- Oh.

Well, then we must show
Mr. Razaghi--Omar, may I?

- Oh, please.
- Omar.

Yes, we must show Omar
what fine hosts we can be

if, by some miracle,
a guest is washed up

on our lonely shore.

Huh?
What do you say?

A picture show.

Yes, why not?

Portia proposes a picture show.

Her one and only picture show.

[hums a tune]

Go and show uncle Omar
where the projector is.

Ocho Rios pictures presents...

the Gunds.

Ah.

[sighs]

- This is very unwise,

as if we're suddenly
his collaborators.

- Well, we're not
showing him anything

he doesn't already know, are we?

After all, Jules' book
was not exactly reticent

about our family affairs,
was it?

Champagne.

- I'll get you a glass.

- So...

how are you, my dear?

- Peachy.

Our parents brought
all this film footage

with them from Germany,

and they used to sit
and watch it

the way we're doing now,

drinking champagne.

When they had to leave Germany
and became refugees,

they were allowed
to settle here,

in Uruguay

on condition
that they bought all this land

and developed it for a mine.

My parents
always traveled in style,

even when they were fleeing
Mr. Hitler and his Nazis.

Always traveled first class.

We lived here
the way they had done in Europe.

We lived in the past,

their past.

They didn't want to know
about the present,

any present anywhere.

South America's
very good for that

if you're a rich foreigner.

- That's my grandfather.

- They never
spoke German again...

[dramatic piano music]

Not even to each other.

- There's mysterious Aunt Sarah.

She left for India
to follow her guru.

Ugh.

There she is,
signing away the family fortune.

[piano music continues]

They went to Venice
for their honeymoon.

And after that,
they went every year

for as long
as it was still possible.

But then the gondola
was the epitome of Europe,

of their Europe.

They persuaded the gondolier
to sell them his gondola.

They called it
the honeymoon gondola

and they had it shipped
all the way from the Adriatic,

right across the Atlantic,

here to Montevideo.

[piano music continues]

Their maddest
and saddest enterprise maybe.

[music stops abruptly]

But you've heard all about
our gondola from Jules' book.

It's still here with us,
rotting in the boathouse.

[projector whirring]

- Buenos dias.

- I'm Pete.

You must be Omar.

- Yes.

Hello.

- Hi.

- I'm looking
for the mill house.

Miss Langdon said
it was down this way somewhere.

Mr. Gund has invited me
to lunch.

- He has?

He hasn't told me.

I'm the one who does the cooking
around here.

I haven't bought anything.

He'll have to take you
to the parilla.

There is no other place.

- Do they take Visa?

- Don't worry about that.

Adam always picks up the tab.

He's very generous.

Get in.

It's a mile away.

This is where I found him,

Jules,

by that big palm.

I was the one who found him.

- So near to the house?

- Come on.

[motor rumbling]

Blew the top of his head
right off.

I'm glad it was me
who found him

and not one of the others.

The odd thing
is that we all stayed here.

- No, thank you.

- Anyway,

here we all are...

including me.

- Where are you from originally?

- From Tokunoshima.

A small island.

I was poor with no family.

When I was 14,

someone liked me enough
to take me with him to England.

[loud clunking]

Here.

I find this old furniture
and make it look older.

A lady comes twice a year
from New York and buys it.

She says I have a good eye.

Adam used to work at Christie's
in London.

- Hello, Mr. Gund.
- Hello.

- He sent me to a school there

where I learned everything
about furniture.

That was 25 years ago.

- Yes.

We're about to have our
silver anniversary, aren't we?

Ready?
Should we go?

[sizzling]

I've ordered us
a platter of grilled meat

and some red wine.

- Not too much for me.

I'm a bit of a lightweight,
I'm afraid.

- Really?
How sad.

What about all those
drunken Persian poets of yours?

What about Hafez?

"Bring me a cup of red wine

that is dark red
and smells of musk..."

- "Don't bring me
that expensive stuff..."

- "That tastes like money..."

both: "And smells like lust."

- [chuckles]

So now, about the biography.

Please understand,
unlike my two sisters-in-law,

or the two ladies,
I should say,

I'm on your side.

- You are?
- Entirely on your side.

See, I've been trying
to explain to them

that to revive an interest
in Jules Gund and his work,

a biography
would be invaluable to us.

- Well, if only
I could convince everyone.

I would be very respectful
of the past,

everyone's feelings.

- My dear boy,
he was my brother.

I knew him better than anyone.

I knew him when we were still

tearing the wings
off butterflies.

I was eight years older,

but it was he who invented
all the little torments

an older brother
inflicts on the younger.

We were both sent to school
in England.

I was utterly miserable,

but he, when in a system,
was in his element.

I suspect it was there at school
that he began to learn

how to exert power
over those who adored him.

It's that simple.

So we must work together,
you and I.

We must co-conspire.

- [laughs]

I hadn't thought of conspiring.

- Well, of course not.

Ah!

Gracias.

- Ooh!

[speaking Spanish]

- This is Mrs. Van Euwen.

The chatelaine
of Las Golondrinas,

our local grand dame.

Very grand.

- Local color, you know?

I told them all they would see
was red meat.

- Yes.

- Worse,

why do you keep your new friend
away from me?

- Oh, yes, he's very beautiful,
isn't he?

Yes, I thought
you'd be interested.

This is--
he's blushing.

- Ooh!
- This is Omar Razaghi.

He's come to do research
on my brother's biography.

- Mucho gusto.
- Ah!

Then you must research me.

I can tell you
things about Jules

that a brother
could never know...

or a wife or even a mistress.

[laughs]

You should write his life,
his and Pete's.

That a more interesting story,
yeah.

- Go away.
Go away.

Thank you.
- I go. I go.

You should come
to Las Golondrinas.

- Have a sausage.

- Is it pork?

- Maybe.

I don't know.

[chuckles]

You don't drink;
you hardly eat meat.

Um...well, as I said before,

I know I can trust you.

I feel I can ask you
for your help

as you're asking for mine.

- Like I said, I'll do anything.

- Wait, wait,
this is non-literary.

It's nothing to do
with the biography.

When our mother---that is,
Jules' mother, my mother--

when our mother arrived here
as a refugee,

she brought with her from
Germany some valuable things,

herjewelry.

Now, I have herjewelry.

And I would like
to dispose of it,

and I would like you to help me
dispose of it.

- Is it legal?

- Is what legal?

- Taking these things
out of the country?

- No, it's moral.

They're my things.

They were my mother's.

When she arrived here,
she hid them away.

Because of her experiences
in Germany,

she trusted no one.

She didn't feel safe anywhere.

Outside of this cocoon
that they built here,

why, she and my father
didn't feel safe on this planet.

[chuckles]

So after her death,
very shortly after my father's,

I found the jewels.

- Do Arden and Caroline know
about them?

- Nope.

They know nothing
of that history.

Even Caroline
hardly knew my mother.

She certainly knew nothing
of what was precious to her.

So I took the jewels.

I felt I could assume
that they were mine

as Caroline, in due course,
felt free to take what was hers.

- From what your mother left?

- With Caroline,
it was what my brother left.

Have you never thought,

never suspected that
there might be another book?

- Other than The Gondola?

- Mm-hmm.

- It is well known, Jules Gund
wrote only that one book.

- Well, he was working
on another one when he died.

It is my theory that he died,
or killed himself,

because he couldn't...

couldn't write anymore.

Or because of what
he was writing

or trying to write.

A psychological impasse.

- Caroline has the manuscript?

- I don't know.
You have to ask her.

But that is not the subject

of our present little talk,
is it?

My jewels.

My need for money.

Ah, here's Pete.

Hail to thee!

[motor rumbling]

Come upstairs.
Follow me.

I want to show you something.

It is not for myself
that I need the money;

it is for Pete,

who may be free to leave me.

- Does he want to leave you?

- He should.

He still has a chance at
a better life than with me here.

You know, in order to bring him
here to Uruguay,

I had to adopt him.

Legally, he is my son.

Come and sit down, please.

- I'll do what you ask.

- Even though it's illegal
and dangerous?

- I think
it's the right thing to do.

If you can trust me
not to screw it up.

- Ah, we shall see.

Please, sit down.

So here's the treasure.

Some of it is mixed up
with my father's.

That's my father's watch.

Mother used to keep them
locked in the safe,

but sometimes she'd take it out
and wear it for me to show me.

And, uh...

I was her favorite, you know,
her firstborn,

her Adam, she called me.

[chuckles]

Of course,
Jules could never get over that.

She would show me
how she wore them

and where.

This at the opera.

She had much smaller wrists
than mine.

- Wow.
- It's beautiful.

Go on, you can take it.

It's all right.

And these at the Burgtheater.

- [chuckles]
- Isn't that beautiful?

Oh, yes, and this little horse
was for the races.

And she'd wear this
attached to her cloche hat.

[bees buzzing]

[knock at door]

- It's me, Omar Razaghi.

[door squeaks open]

I hope I'm not disturbing you.

- I'm just having my breakfast.

Come in.
[loud cracking]

- Oh.
No, thank you.

- You don't have to say
anything nice about it.

- No, I like it.
It's very interesting.

- It's only a copy.

That's all I do nowadays,
is copies,

copy the masters.

It's safer.

That way,
I don't reveal anything.

It's what art does,

even biography.

Especially biography.

- I would be very discreet.

I would absolutely
respect your wishes

as to what to reveal.

- What if I were to tell you
that Jules explicitly said

he didn't want a biography
of himself?

He wrote it to me in a letter.

I suppose
you'd want to see that letter.

- Well, yes.

I'd like to very much.

- And why
would I show it to you?

I don't know anything about you,

no more than you know about me
or ever will.

What if I were to ask you,
have you ever been in love,

passionately in love?

See, you can't answer me.

You're not sure.

- I am sure.

- Do you have a girlfriend?

A partner?

- Why do you want to know?

- Are you romantically involved?

- Yes.

I suppose I am.

- Suppose?

That doesn't sound very
positive, let alone passionate.

- We've been together two years.

Her name is Deirdre.

If it weren't for her,
I wouldn't be here.

I mean, here in Uruguay.

I would have accepted
your decision.

I would have given up.

- I see.

Sit.

So it is your friend Deirdre

who made you come
to change our minds.

And what if
you can't change our minds?

What will she think?

She'll think you failed.

- Yes.

And she'd be right.

I will have failed.

- Sometimes it's good to fail,

to try but to fail.

There's nothing ignoble in that.

- You don't understand.

Everything depends on it:

my job, my career,

maybe my relationship
with my girlfriend.

- You're so young.

Are you sure that's
what you want your life to be

forever and ever:

that job, that career,

that girlfriend?

I'll show you
a real picture I painted.

It's Jules, only it's not him,

not as he really was,
which only I knew.

You don't see it
because I couldn't paint it.

I wasn't good enough
to paint it.

I suppose now you'll write
how the widow of Jules Gund

is sitting
in a south American jungle

painting atrocious paintings
and slowly going mad

or not so slowly.

- I promise to write nothing
you don't want me to write.

- Point is,
I want you to write nothing.

- If you could just give me
one reason.

- I don't have a reason.

As anyone will tell you,
I am an unreasonable person.

Jules himself
would have told you that

if he'd still been here.

In fact,
it's the very word he used

when he felt I wasn't
being accommodating enough

to his arrangements.

"You're so unreasonable,
Caroline."

- I'm sorry.

I shouldn't have come here.

- Don't apologize.

No, it's good sometimes
to hear another voice.

I was beginning to think

that apart from
our little group here,

there was no one else
left in the world.

[plaintive woodwind music]

[crickets and frogs chirping]

- Do you want to hear
how Arden met Jules?

- Yes.

- Omar doesn't want
to know that at all.

- He's writing a book;
he has to know everything.

- Mm-hmm.

- Um...I was traveling
around Spain

when I met some people
going to Uruguay.

So I went with them,

and they turned out
to be a missionary group

sent to convert
the heathen of south America.

[both laugh]

- Don't laugh.

Our name was joyful noise.

[both laugh]

And we went around in a bus
and gave concerts in the street.

We never drew much of a crowd,

but people listened
very politely.

But by the time we'd finished,

there was usually
only one or two left.

But we went right on singing
and playing.

- Arden shook the tambourine.

- Anyway, one day,
Jules stopped to listen.

And when we were through,
he came up to me and said,

"what are you doing?

And why are you doing it?"

So I stopped.

- And then I was born.

- Well,
not quite so quickly, darling.

- Nine months later, anyway.

- I'm packing a picnic lunch.

- Why are you going on a picnic?

- I'm taking Omar
to show him the gondola.

- Why?

As if that gondola
isn't the most ludicrous

of all the ludicrous
collected items here.

- I don't feel that.

- No...

You've changed your mind
about the biography.

Well, haven't you?

- [sighs]

Why shouldn't he
write the biography?

He seems--

he's just the right person
to understand Jules.

- In what way
is he the right person?

Because he's goodlooking
and charming

and because he's charmed you?

What is it?

I'm sorry.

It's just that what we decided
before still stands for me.

Maybe I shouldn't tell you this.

- Tell me what?

- Do you know
he's in love with someone?

- I didn't know that.

- He told me he has a fiancee.

Maybe they're not engaged,

but he has
a romantic attachment.

- Why are you telling me this?

- Because I thought
you should know.

- It has nothing to do
with anything.

- I never said that it had,
but I wouldn't blame you.

You're lonely.

- I'm not lonely.

Or maybe I am
and I didn't know it

until there was a new person.

When do we ever see anyone
or get to talk to anyone?

And now--

why are you talking to me
like this?

Why do you want to hurt me?

- I don't want to hurt you.

I never wanted to hurt you.

- Hola!

- So you're off
to see the gondola.

- Oh, yes.

You'll be coming with us?

- I've been there.

- [sighs]
Mmm.

- Maybe we shouldn't go.

It's a long way.

- Uh, well, if you're not
feeling up to it.

- Well, if you're not allowed
to write the biography,

there's no point in going.

And Caroline
won't change her mind.

That's the way she is.

She has a much stronger
character than I have.

- That's not true.

- Oh, but it is.

Jules used to say that

any breeze could come
and blow me any which way.

But actually,
why shouldn't we go?

- Right.

Why shouldn't we?

[hooves clopping]

[cattle lowing]

[horse whinnies]

- Whoa.

[clanking]

[motor rumbling]

[brakes screeching]

[brakes hiss]

[doors squeak]

Who won?

- We did.

- [speaks Spanish]

[motor rumbles]

- I have to go find Arden.

- She is showing Omar
the gondola.

- Without me?

- They'll take you another time.

- What if Omar goes away?

Is he going away?

- Do you want him to stay?

- Definitely.

- Do you live alone?

- Yes.

- But you have a girlfriend.

- Yes.
I do.

- What's her name?

- Her name is Deirdre.

She teaches
at the same university.

- What does she teach?

- Literature, like me.

She's a good teacher.

Much better than I'll ever be.

The great Russians
and German poets.

[chuckles]

- Sorry, I'm being rude.

I'm not used to meeting
new people,

so I don't know
how to behave anymore.

I shouldn't ask you
all those questions.

- But think of all the questions
I want to ask you.

Is all of this your land?

- Pete keeps trying
to make us sell some of it,

or at least lease it
for a vineyard or something.

And we could do with the money,

but you see how we all are.

- There's no quicksand here,
is there?

A swamp you could sink into?

- Oh, well, yes,
there's lots of swamps.

So watch out.

What's wrong?

- I...

I feel a bit strange.

Can't be the altitude.

- Oh, no, we're at sea level.

Maybe you're just hungry.

Come on.

- Maybe.

- I want you to know,

I've changed my mind
about the biography.

Why should I be afraid
of stirring up bad memories?

There aren't any.

There's Portia

and this lovely place
for her to grow up in.

I want you to write the book.

Like Adam, I'm on your side.

I give you my---what is it?

My--my authorization.

- [chuckles]

You know, I came here
to write one kind of book.

- No, thanks.

- And now it's turning
into something different.

Like, it's no longer
about Jules

but about you--all of you.

And your life here

and even about me here with you.

Does that make sense?

No? It doesn't?

- Well, not entirely,
but you said you were feeling...

[loud clanking]

[clattering]

[hinges squeaking]

- Oh.

[chuckling]

May I get in?
- Yeah.

It needs painting.

I keep wanting to do it.

- I'll help you.

I'd like to do that.

- Caroline hates the gondola
more than anything.

I don't know why.

- [sighs]

[squeaking]

- What's she like,
Deirdre?

- She's very determined.

Very strong personality.

She decides what needs
to be done and does it.

- That's how I'd want to be.

- Well, so would I.

I don't suppose
I'll ever manage it.

[both laugh]

- Me neither.

Can you help me get out?
- Oh, sure.

[bees buzzing]

- [speaking foreign language]

More, more.

- Portia.

Pete, I wish
you wouldn't let her do this.

You're not even protected.

- You want to help?
- No.

[buzzing]

- Gracias.

- Can't I do it?
- No.

Certainly not.
You're not to climb up there.

- I'll do it.
- Not at all.

- Can I help?
- Sure.

Take the net
up the other ladder.

- I'll take that.

[bees buzzing]

Portia, stay away
from the bees.

- Pull the net towards you.

- Let me get higher.
- Okay.

A little more.
- Okay.

[loud buzzing]
Ow!

- Careful.

[buzzing]

Omar.

- Ow!

- [gasps]
- [screaming]

- Omar!
- Omar!

thud!

- No!

- Omar?

Omar.

[soft beeping]

[sighs]

Oh, Omar.

Omar, the doctor's
made a mistake.

He thinks I'm your girlfriend.

Can you hear me?

Can you feel me?

But it's all right.

I found Deirdre's phone number
in your book.

I left a message on her machine.

Maybe she'll come soon,
and then everything--

can you hear me?

Do you know what I'm saying?

Deirdre's coming.

Oh, please blink.

[birds singing]

[motor rumbling]

- No way.

[grunts]

[engine turns over]

[motor rumbling]

- Let me just show you
your bedroom and bathroom.

Did you know Omar was allergic
to bee sting?

- I did not.

But I'm not surprised.

[shouting and whistling]

[cattle lowing]

[whooping and horses neighing]

- Are those gauchos?

- No.

Oh, yes.
Gauchos.

Cowboys.

There's something
I must tell you.

No, thanks.

The doctor, Dr. Pereira,

he's taken very good care
of Omar, but, um...

he's made a silly mistake.

He thinks I'm Omar's lover.

- Oh.

- It's the sort of thing
he would think.

He's Latin American.

They see the world
in a certain way.

But I didn't correct him.

- Why not?

- As I said, Dr. Pereira
is the way men are here.

They like to think
of men and women involved,

romantically involved.

I thought that
if the doctor thinks that,

that Omar is loved--
that I love him--

then he would
take very special care of him.

- Moo!

- But of course,
now that you're here...

- No, that's all right.

Whatever works best for Omar,

I don't care
what a doctor thinks.

Let him think I'm Omar's sister.

- Oh, you don't look
like his sister,

nothing like.

[cattle mooing loudly]

[men whooping and hollering]

[motor rumbling]

[mooing and shouting continues]

- He's in this ward,

on the right.

I'll wait outside.

- Okay, thank you.

- Mm.

My god.

Why are you here?

- Arden called me.

You were in a coma.

Has Arden been visiting you?

- Have you met her?

- Of course,
I'm staying in the house.

- Don't you like it?

Isn't it amazing,

the house and everything?

- Do you remember what happened?

With the bees?

- No.

I don't remember anything
that happened that day clearly.

- Are you a friend
of our poor Omar?

- Yes, I'm very worried
about Omar.

- You must not worry.

You are too beautiful to worry.

All the women who visit Omar
are beautiful.

His recovery
has nothing to do with me.

It is the beauty of women
that cured him.

- Where did you
get these pajamas?

- I don't know.

I woke up wearing them.

- Did Arden bring them?

They may have belonged to Jules.

You are wearing
Jules Gund's pajamas.

[both chuckle]

- Mmm.

- Do you think she's changed
her mind about authorization?

- Well, I'm not very sure
about Caroline.

- We'll see about her.

What about Arden?

- She's leaning my way.

Our way.

- And the other one,
the brother?

- Adam?
- Mm-hmm.

- He's always been on my side.

And he says
he'll help me with Caroline,

and I said I'd help him.

- Help him with what?

What can you help him with?

- It's nothing, really.

He just wants me
to carry something for him

when I go back to the States.

- Carry what?

- Just some things.

- What things?

- Some...

pieces ofjewelry.

Stuff like that.
[clattering]

- Jewelry?

Did you say you would?

Omar, you're crazy.

It's smuggling.

He's asking you
to smuggle for him.

[titters]
You'll go to jail.

- He wouldn't ask me
to do anything criminal.

He's not that type.

- Anyone who asks you
to take something

secretly out of the country
for him

is that type.

- He's been very helpful to me
with the biography.

And that's what I'm here for:

to get authorization
for the biography.

- This is not the way to get it.

- I'm doing it my way.
Everything's fine.

- Everything is not fine, Omar.

If it were, I wouldn't be here.

- I didn't ask you to come here.

- Oh, I'm sorry.

I flew 5,000 miles
because you were in a coma.

A coma!

- Stop.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.

I just--I wish you wouldn't
treat me like a baby.

- Then don't act like a baby.

Don't agree to smuggle jewelry.

Don't fall out of a tree.

- Falling out of a tree
was an accident.

- You know what I think
about accidents.

- Accidents happen to people,
Deirdre.

We can't all be perfect
like you.

- I'm not perfect.

I know I'm not perfect.

I don't think I am.

I'm just trying
to help you, Omar,

because I love you.

You really wish I hadn't come?

- No.

- Because I can leave.

I can leave whenever you want.

- No.
[sighs]

Want you to stay.

- Omar,
you've broken your wrist.

Let me wipe the soup
off your face.

- Adam!

- So how is
our poor young friend?

I hear he's recovering.

- His girlfriend has arrived

to comfort him,

and hopefully
to take him home.

Where's Pete?

- Taking a shower.

So...

to what do I owe
this pleasure?

It really is a pleasure,
you know?

Well, here we are.

To the pleasure of you.

- How sweet you are.

- Not bad.

Not bad at all.

Please, sit down.

- It's supposed to be
a cocktail.

- Cocktail.

What a lovely word.

If only one could drink it

where a cocktail
should be drunk,

sitting on a barstool

somewhere dark, secluded.

But liquor is liquor

wherever you go in the world,
isn't it?

- It's a Manhattan,

or half a Manhattan,
since you have no bourbon.

- A Manhattan.

That's your Moscow.

Hmm?

"Oh, Olga, Olga,
let us go to Moscow.

There's no place in the world
like Moscow."

- Adam, I want to ask you,

do you think
I was wrong to stay here?

- What do you mean?

- You know what I mean.

When Jules came back
with Arden.

- I didn't judge you.

It was your affair and Jules'.

- She was so pathetic.

It was as if he'd picked up
a stray kitten

and brought it home,

a pregnant kitten.

- Yeah.

- Now I think she's changed
her mind about the biography,

as you have.

- I never opposed it.

Why should we?

A biography is nothing,

an account of the facts
written by,

well, just for all we know,
some academic hack.

Though I hope not.

Maybe he'll surprise us.

Poor boy.

What a thing to happen.

A bee, can you imagine?

- It's his own fault.

Why did he come here?

He has no business here,
hack or not.

- Supposing Jules
had written something himself.

Had he?

Yes, he had.

I thought so.

And it would have to be
personal, autobiographical,

'cause Jules
was not an inventive writer.

And as The Gondola
was about our parents' lives,

this other manuscript--

- Which no longer exists.

- Which no longer exists...

would be about his life with you
and Arden in this place.

And for all I know,

even about Pete and me.

- How could any outsider
understand this place

or what it was like
to all live here together

or what it's like now
without him?

- Yes.

You know,
you could leave tomorrow

if you wanted to,

any time you choose.

- You very well know,
I have no money.

How could I get
the fare together?

Don't you think I haven't
thought of it,

that I don't sit up there
pretending to paint,

brooding over
where I might be instead?

I need a real drink.

How about you?

Scotch.
- Yeah.

- Not getting very far
on just vermouth.

[distant thunder crashes]

Adam, do you like life?

- [chuckles]

Well, I wouldn't like
to live forever.

But um, for a little while,
yes, but...

yes, I like it.

- But living here?

You wouldn't rather
be somewhere else,

New York, London?

- No.
- Why not?

- Because you have
to care about--

or at least pretend to care
about everything:

politics, fashion, culture.

It's just exhausting.

- What I wouldn't give
to see some new painters,

a new play, go to the opera.

Yes, I know.

To Moscow, Olga.

- Yeah.

This is a very potent drink.

Perhaps I should not
have indulged in a refill.

Tell me something.
Was there ever a letter?

Did Jules really write to you

saying he didn't want
a biography?

- No.

But I know
he wouldn't have wanted it.

- How would you know that?

- Because he destroyed
the manuscript.

[thunder rumbling]

- He destroyed it himself?

- He wanted no one to know

what only concerned himself
and me.

So no matter
what you and Arden decide,

I shall never allow
this biography to be written,

even if he gets stung
by 1 00 bees.

[rustling]

- Excuse me.

Can you tell me the way
to the mill house, please?

- You have to go back this way

and then
through the bamboo grove.

- Through there.

- Thank you.

- What do you think of her?

- What do you?

- I don't see her with Omar,

her personality.

But I don't know either of them
very well.

What do you think?

Will you miss them
when they're gone?

- No.

- I mean Omar.

Will you miss Omar?

Do you love him?

- No.

No, I don't love Omar.

What?
Why did you ask me that?

Omar didn't say anything to you
about me

when you went to see him
in the hospital?

- No,
I just thought,

if I were you...

- If you were me, what?

- I might love him.

- [laughs]

Well, it's as you said, Pete.

We hardly know him.

He's only been here
for a short time,

he has a girlfriend,

and he's leaving soon.

The doctor says he can travel
in a few days.

They're both leaving.

I'm glad.

[rustling]

[birds chirping]

[insects clicking and buzzing]

- Mr. Gund?

- Who calls?

- Hello.

- I could come back another time
if you're not free.

- Not free?

As you can see, I'm quite free,

hopelessly free,

for the rest of my life.

This is Jesus,
and you must be, uh...Deborah.

- Deirdre.

- [inhales]
Deirdre.

May I offer you something?

- Oh, just some mineral water
if you have it.

- Mineral water, hmm.

How about a dry martini?

- [chuckles]

No.
[clears throat]

No, thank you.

- So you must be,
um...Omar's paramour.

It's so difficult
finding the right word

to describe a relationship.

[chuckles]

At least my relationships.

They're all too complicated
for mere words.

- Paramour
is not the right word.

I wouldn't use it to describe
Omar's and my relationship.

- Do sit down, my dear.
You look as if you might bolt.

I've offended you, no doubt.

Good.

You know, in my youth,

I used to call my partners
my paramours.

It's such a lovely word
to describe a lovely situation.

And as a result, I remained
a youth for a very long time.

The aging process was retarded,
but alas,

one morning I woke up and--

I was an old man
who talks too much.

But it is you who've come
to talk to me, yes,

I have no doubt,
about the authorization.

As you've probably heard,
I'm on Omar's side.

We have made our arrangement.

- That is what I've come
to talk to you about,

what you call an arrangement.

- So he has told you about it?

- He has,
and I consider it blackmail.

You said you had made a bargain
with Omar.

You asked him to smuggle
certain items out of the country

in return for your help
in getting him authorization.

I...

call that blackmail.

- "Smuggle," "blackmail."

My, my, you do have
a romantic imagination.

- I will not allow him to do it.

And besides,
he's the wrong person for it.

- I agree with you.

Omar is certainly not
the right person.

Unlike you, he is not practical.

But you will be returning
to the United States as well?

- Are you trying to make
a little bargain with me now?

- Please, do sit down.

I'm enjoying your company.
Sit down.

You're so invigorating.
[chuckles]

It's a pity
you have no sense of adventure.

- I certainly have a sense
of what's legal

and what is not.

- You know,

one day, you will regret this.

You will regret having come
all the way to south America

and not involving yourself
in what you encounter here.

You will think, "Oh, why?

Oh, why
did I not smuggle those things?"

- So it is smuggling.

- Well, you read too many books.

Or perhaps you don't even
read books anymore.

You probably just read
criticism of books.

- Mr. Gund,

you must consider your little
bargain with Omar dissolved.

Neither he nor I

will be able to help you
in this business.

We'll have to get Caroline

somehow to agree
to authorization without you.

- Mm-hmm.
How will you do that?

- We can try,

honestly try,

without resorting to bargains
and blackmail.

- Hmm.

It seems a bit stupid to me,
if I may be so blunt,

to alienate me like this.

After all, what is stopping me
changing my mind?

- Oh.

Excuse me, I...

I understood
you wanted a biography.

I didn't think your support
was variable or could be bought.

Gracias, Jesus.

Gracias.

Well, I admire your gumption.

But I think it best

that this situation be resolved
between Omar and myself.

The arrangement was made
with Omar,

so it is up to Omar
to dissolve it.

I have enjoyed our little chat.

Please excuse me.

[wistful piano and violin music]

[sheep bleating]

- Mrs. Gund.

[soft music continues]

These are lovely.

- Are you fond of art?

- It's not my field,

but some paintings
I like very much.

I have been hoping to talk---

- What kind of paintings
do you like very much?

- The impressionists,

Cezanne and Monet, van Gogh.

Perhaps they weren't
all impressionists,

or were they?

- As far you need be concerned,
they were.

- May I speak to you?

- Of course you may.

Sit.

- May I?

- Of course.

Little to the left, please.

[piano music continues]

- I'd like to assure you

that Omar intends
to work very closely

with you all on the biography.

If you knew what this is

for Omar,

how very much depends on it
for him

to get authorization
and write this book.

- I am not concerned
with Omar's needs.

I have other...

different allegiances.

- To Jules Gund?

- I don't think this is really
any of your business.

But yes, to my husband.

And to myself, for that matter.

- Why are you
withholding authorization?

Perhaps if you told me,
I could address your concerns.

- Shh.

[gentle piano music continues]

Do you recognize it?

- It sounds familiar.

- It's Poulenc,

Tres Lent et Calme.

- I hope
you will consider reconsidering.

- I have already discussed this
with Omar.

I have told him more than once

that I will not
change my decision.

- But Arden has changed hers.

- Miss Langdon has her reasons;
I have mine.

[soothing piano music]

Isn't it marvelous?

- I think I'm wasting your time.

- Time is not a very precious
commodity around here.

- But you've made up your mind.

- I made it up long ago,

long before Omar arrived.

- Then there's really no point
in me or Omar talking to you.

- Not about that subject,

but we could talk
about something else.

Art?

But that's not your field.

Music?

Or is music
not your field either?

But surely you like this.

How could you not?

- No, thank you.

- [inhales sharply]

[humming]

[rustling and clinking]

- But why do you need Omar?

- I didn't want you to know.

It was to be a secret.

It was for you, you idiot.

I wanted you to have the money.

- Why?

For what?
- [sighs]

- I have a good business
of my own.

I don't need more money.
You do.

I'm happy.

- What, here with me?

I don't think you know much
about happiness, my friend.

- Do you?

- Oh, I gave up on all that
stuff a long time ago.

- You pretend you have.

Don't I make you happy,
at least sometimes?

- Yes, of course.

- So why are you trying
to send me away?

- Because I don't want you
wasting yourself on me.

I'm an old man,

"a paltry thing,
a tattered coat upon a stick."

Make a life for yourself,

for god's sake.

- Look at me.

Go on, look.

- I'm looking.

I'm 40 years old.

I've lived with you
for 25 years.

I don't want any other life.

- 25 years.

Hmm.

You're a sweet boy.

And I've always loved you,
and I love you now.

- But there is someone
who needs money to leave.

- Oh, Caroline, yes.

- Don't involve Omar in this.

- Hmm?

- I can get much better price
than he ever could.

If not in Montevideo,
then in Buenos Aires.

- You can?

How?

- I have contacts.

- So how much do you think
you will make with these?

- Enough for
where she wants to be.

- Really?

Supposing we exact
a small exchange with Caroline.

Supposing the money
you make for her,

she takes the cash and leaves.

- Quite a bit of cash.

- Yes.

And in return
for that bit of cash,

we could make a bargain
with her.

I suggest
she might want to make over

her part of Ocho Rios
to you.

You'd be 1/3 partner
with Portia and myself,

and of course, as you know,

we're more accommodating
than Caroline

and more used to signing things.

So perhaps you could,
if you want to,

start one of
your moneymaking schemes.

Thousands of acres of soybeans

blowing in the wind.

- My god.

How I'd make this place
work for us.

Oh.

- I'm going to Las Golondrinas
for a few days.

I just wanted you to know.
- Why?

- I don't feel comfortable here.

I want all these people
to go away.

But as they only incapacitate
themselves and multiply,

I'm going away myself.

Call me when the coast is clear.

- I'll do no such thing.

Go if you want,
but don't give me orders.

- Goodness.

Sounds as if you're the one
who needs to get away from here.

- Caroline.

- I wonder
if Luis can get me there.

Esta bien, Luis?
- A su disposicion, senora.

- Are you leaving
without talking to him,

to Omar?

Omar.

- Why should I talk to him?

I've talked a lot to him

and to his
rather unpleasant girlfriend.

- You're afraid that if you
stay, you'll change your mind.

- I'm afraid if I stay,
I'll lose my mind.

- "My dear Caroline,

"I have a confession to make.

"I am a jewel thief.

"I have secretly kept
all my mother's diamonds.

"Graciously,
I beg you to absolve me

"by accepting them
from my guilty hands.

Don't overdo it."

- "Forgive me, if you can,

"and live happily
on the proceeds

"wherever you may choose.

"Pete and I have each other

"and need almost nothing more.

"But there is one fairly small
favor you can do for us.

"In return
for Mother's diamonds,

"would you relinquish
your 1/3 share of Ocho Rios?

"Pete has great plans
for the estate

"that I cannot even pretend
to understand.

"A new chapter
will soon begin for you

"and if, perchance,

"something is weighing
on your conscience--

"and who among us
is without blame?

"Humanum errare est---

"rid yourself of it
with one small gesture.

"Allow the boy
to write the biography

"yours is still
the one voice he needs.

Adam."

- Where is everyone?

- They're busy
doing whatever they do,

forging paintings,

raising killer bees, I guess,

and smuggling jewels.

- Well,
can you please go find them

and tell them we're back
from the hospital?

- Find whom?

- Arden...and everyone.

Caroline.

- Caroline.

You certainly
need to speak to Caroline.

[knocks]

- What are you drawing?

- Are you finished?

I'm sorry, Portia,

but I need to talk to Omar.

[whispers]
Run along.

Can you believe it?

Caroline has left.

And without a word to us
about the authorization.

I'll have to go after her
and speak to her.

I think she's enjoying this.

[whispers]
These people are awful.

- If anyone speaks to Caroline,
it'll have to be me.

- I think I might be better
at handling a person like that.

- I don't want to handle anyone.

I hate that attitude.

- Omar,

what's the matter with you?

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, you've been ill.

You've only just
come out of the hospital.

You're not yourself.

And really,
you're not in a fit state

to go running
after crazy Caroline.

- Please, Deirdre,

leave it to me.

- Darling--

- Would you just let me rest?

[indistinct shouting
and splashing]

- Omar, "Las Golondrinas"

means little birds
that fly and sing.

That is what we do here,
as you can see.

Jules was always welcome here.

He lived with his two women
at Ocho Rios,

and sometimes
he had to come up for air...

when Caroline
was too much for him.

- And Arden was too little.

- Don't you want to swim?

We have plenty of suits.

Yes?

You don't have to put that arm
in the water, no?

El bracito en el agua,
para que?

No.

Traele...traele, Wilson...

- No, no, no.
- Como no, no, no, no?

Si
Plunk! Plunk! Plunk!

[shouting and splashing]

Jules was very, very attractive.

And depressive, of course.

But that made him
even more attractive,

like Hamlet
or someone out of Dostoyevsky.

[chuckles]

He had the knack
of making each woman he met

feel she was the only one
who truly understood him.

Only women.

He didn't care for men,

nor they for him.

And he was writing this book,

another book
to make him even more famous.

We thought it was thrilling.

Perhaps we were all in it.

And each one of us
thought she was his muse.

And would go down in history,
no?

- God knows
what she's telling him.

Every woman who ever met Jules

is convinced she understood him
better than I did,

or Arden, for that matter.

- You know what I think?

That he wasn't writing a book
at all.

He was talking about it

to impress us,

but he found he couldn't.

And that made him--

he couldn't bear the thought

of not being
a celebrated author anymore.

Admired and famous and...

and everyone
hopelessly in love with him.

Ah, Wilson.

- Senora.

- Gracias.

Permiso.

[crowd chattering indistinctly]

- Tango.

Tango.
Puedes.

- Puedo.
- Puedes.

- Puedes.
- Puedo, puedo.

- Maybe we'll meet
in the States.

I'd like that very much,

although maybe you prefer
to forget all about me.

- I want to give you
a farewell present.

About the biography,
go ahead and write it.

Explain us to ourselves,
if you can.

I'll be interested

to read your interpretation
or invention.

I grant you my authorization.

Isn't that what you wanted?

What you came here for?

- Of course.

And I'm very grateful to you.

- Deirdre anyway,
will be pleased.

- But what about Jules' letter
that he didn't want a biography?

- Jules never wrote
such a letter.

I made that up.

But he did try
and write a second book.

There is a manuscript.
It does exist.

No one's ever read it except me.

Jules never finished it.

He couldn't.

Shall I tell you
about the last scene?

The last he wrote
and then he couldn't go on?

In this last scene, Arden and I
are in the gondola,

and we loathe each other
as we never did.

Though, perhaps
that's what he was waiting for.

But in the gondola,

we have a terrible fight,

a physical fight.

And I push Arden overboard.

But you know what?

The water isn't deep enough.

So I keep on pushing her down
and down.

- Did you intend to publish it?

- There were times
when I felt that I had to,

that it was a responsibility,
a duty,

to literature, if that
doesn't sound too grandiose.

- I don't believe
any of us has such a duty.

I believe literature
takes its life from us,

not the other way around.

- Is this the belief
of a professor of literature?

- Oh, I'm afraid
this is the other Omar,

the misguided caliph
who burned all the books.

You know,
the entire library of Alexandria

was fed into
the bathhouse boilers,

700,000 papyrus scrolls.

It took six months
to burn them all up.

[distant chatter and music]

[festive guitar music]

- Let me take that.

[thudding
and indistinct chatter]

Gracias.

[knocks]

- I was just coming down
to say goodbye.

- I've come up.

- You must be very happy
with your success.

- My success?

- You've achieved everything
you came for.

With all three of us,
that's 1 00% success.

- Arden,

I'll come back soon.

- I know.
You have to interview all of us.

- That's not
what I'm coming back for.

- Omar?

- I'll be right down.

Deirdre's always afraid
of missing her plane.

She never has.

- Have you?

- Maybe twice, three times.

Whatever.

There are worse things in life
than missing a plane.

- Well,
try not to miss this one.

- You're right.

[chuckles]

You know what I think?

Those bees
knew what they were doing.

They stung me so I'd remember
what I was here for.

Not for my own selfish reasons,

not just to have a good time
and be happy--

- But to get your PhD.

- And write the book.

- And when it's published,

I hope you'll send us
one copy each.

And please inscribe it,

"with best wishes,
from professor Razaghi, PhD."

- Professor Razaghi.

It sounds like a stage magician.

The kind that makes pigeons
fly out of a top hat.

[both chuckle]

- And saws girls in half.

[knock at door]

[whispers]
Go on.

- Here you are.

We're going to miss the plane.

- Goodbye, Deirdre.

I hope you and Omar have a safe
and pleasant journey.

- Thank you for everything.

Goodbye.

- Bye.

[fire crackling]

[water splashing]

[fire snapping and crackling]

[bell tolling]

- Hey, Omar.

- Where you going, Omar?
- I'm in a hurry.

- Oh, come on.
- Hey! Hey! Hey!

[shouting and giggling]

Knock it off!

- Hey!

[shouting and squealing
continues]

- In 500 words for Monday,

I want you to analyze the role
of fate in hardy's novel.

In Shakespeare,
character is always fate.

Which we know by now
from experience

to be absolutely true.

What happens to me happens

because I am I.

Hardy's characters
are caught in situations

that are impossible
to get out of.

But are they impossible?

Suppose a character decides
that he can do something

about his fate.

What then?

[bell tolling]

Any hands?

Come on, guys.

[bell tolling]

[students murmuring]

[plaintive woodwind music]

[rain pattering]

[thunder crashes]

- It's Omar.

Omar, I found your shoe.

- My shoe?

- The one you lost
when the bee stung you.

Do you still have the other one?

Then you can wear them.

- [panting]

Thank you, Portia.

As a matter of fact,
I did keep it

as a souvenir from my bee sting.

- I'll go and get it.

- You can't do this.

It's wrong.

Walk in, walk out
whenever it suits you.

No, you can't.

- I should have written.

- Yes, you should have written.

- I tried to.

You don't know
how often I tried,

how many letters I didn't send.

- A postcard even,
instead of silence, nothing,

not a word,

as if we no longer existed.

- You don't understand.

- What don't I understand?

- I was always thinking,
"Go there.

Go there.
Go there."

I knew I had to do something.

I wish
I could have done it right.

If there was one thing
I could give you,

it would be for once
to do something right.

- Well, you can't just
appear like this,

horribly upsetting everyone

by turning up
in these fantastic ways.

- So I should just sit
and do nothing

and suffer
and miss you?

- Oh, please, go.

Just go, Omar.

- [sobs]

- I wanted to give him
his shoe.

- Omar.

- Hi, Pete.
- Come in.

- Thank you.

- I'll get you some dry socks.

- Hail to thee, dear boy.

Where have you sprung from?

Come and sit down.

Make yourself warm.

Sit here.
Would you like a drink?

- Please.
- Good.

Here you are.
- Thank you.

- You seem to have developed
the habit

of popping up at the most
extraordinary times.

- I'm clumsy and a fool.

- I used to call myself that.

But now Pete has set us up
as a corporation,

I'm not a fool anymore.

I'm a business.

And how's your business?

- I've given it up,
the biography.

I'm not writing it.

- Oh.

Well, quite frankly,
it seemed to me

that it was, um--

What was her name?
Deirdre.

It seemed to me
that it was Deirdre's project

more than it was yours.

- Before I even came here,

I lost a dog.

And searching for it,
I nearly drowned in a swamp.

And then it happened again.

I lost a dog.

The same dog, Victor.

And looking for him,
I came to the same swamp,

and I thought, "Oh, no.
No, not again."

But I was sinking,

not in that swamp
but in the biography,

my whole life.

- Well, I haven't
the foggiest notion

of what you're talking about,
dear boy,

but obviously, you've come
all the way back here

to save yourself from sinking.

Welcome.

- Arden told me to leave.

She said
I had no right to come here.

- Oh, we're always saying
things we don't mean,

especially in this family.

In fact, we often say
the opposite of what we do mean.

- Adam sends me away every day.

He says it's better that way.

- Yes, "It's better that way,"
which means,

I can't bear it, but I will.

It's the Jewish mother in me,
you see.

- What should I do?

- Go and see her again.

- But what if she tells me
to leave again?

- Then come back here
and tomorrow try again,

and the day after that
and the day after that.

[door slams]

- Omar!

- Come on.

[people murmuring]

- This ought to be good.

- Don't forget he was only
1 0 or 12 when he wrote it.

Be kind.

- [speaking French]

[gasps]
Hang on.

I think I know her.

Excuse me.

Aren't you Caroline Gund?

I'm Deirdre.
We met in--

- Ocho Rios, of course.

How could I forget?

- Hello.

Nice to meet you.
This is Tim.

- Hello, nice to meet.

- Do you live here in Madrid?

- No, no, we're just visiting.

We live in New York.

- Really?
So do I.

I teach at Columbia.

Do you ever hear from them?

- I do occasionally.

They all seem very happy.

They've turned the land
into vineyards.

And there's a baby.

- A baby?

A boy or a girl?

- A girl.

A little sister for Portia.

And they still keep bees.

- Oh.
Those bees?

- It's a business now.

They sell the honey.

- How funny to meet you
like this after all these years,

and we both
live in New York now.

- Well.

- Goodbye.

- Who's that?

- That's a crazy story.

- She's not very--
- Give me a second.

Caroline.

Call me.

I'm in the phone book.

The only Deirdre Rothemund,

West 84th.

[applause]

- So who was that?

- Someone I met once

in Uruguay, of all places,

three years ago.

[lively orchestral music begins]

- What were you doing
in Uruguay?

- I was sent for.
A friend needed me.

Did you know
that a bee sting can be fatal?

Was it fatal?
Did he die?

- No.
He recovered.

But it a profound
psychological effect.

[orchestral music continues]

- Will you call her?

- She's friendlier
than I remember.

- What happened?

- It's a long story.

- Tell me.

- Shh.

- I'll tell you later.

[orchestral music continues]