All language subtitles for MixDrop - Watch Amor.idiota.2004.540p.NF.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.x264-SPRITE

As a teenager, I knew I was an idiot.

A few years later, I discovered
that I was not the only one.

At almost 35, I am convinced
that we are not only all idiots:

is that we never cease to be.

-He's always late. Let's toast!
-Congratulations, Godfather!

-Drink!
-He's here.

You're late, Pere-Lluc.

-The meal is ready.
-I've had a few gin and tonics.

-Godfather, for you.
-Is it for me? Thank you.

Don't I get a drink?

-I'm going to the toilet for a moment.
-Perfect.

It's his prostate.
He doesn't want me to tell.

One second.

Friends, are we all here?

One second.

Idiocy is like a woodworm
that eats away at us to the end.

At fifteen, we are hopeless idiots.

It's like a mold that sets at that age,
and so on until you die.

That's why I don't have children.
Nor do I think I ever will.

I won't create more idiots.

-Very well.
-Yes, thank goodness.

One second.

Today, a special day
in our working calendar,

I want to make an act of atonement.

Just as the Lord sacrificed himself
by giving his life for us,

I, by way of public
and symbolic embarrassment…

I offer up my willy.

I'll unzip my fly

and I will deposit my virile member here.

Near the meatball, in the stew,
like any other sausage. Here.

And, with this carver

that fate has put
on this stage beforehand…

Dude, don't do it.
You will be disgraced forever.

Stop, will you?

I'm dizzy and bored with myself,
hence this show of childishness.

We cannot forget that I'm an idiot.

Hand that over, enough with the joke.

Excuse me.

You have the worst ideas!

Why are you so quiet?

Oh, I think I've peed myself.

After a life of intense idiocy,
can you know you've hit rock bottom?

Experience proves otherwise:
You can always be a bigger idiot.

My case is proof of this.
This is the only way to explain

an incident as embarrassing, immature,
and exhibitionist as today's.

Barcelona, Mediterranean city,
ancient and Olympic capital.

Proud

and full of indigenous inhabitants
who they say lack the character

of Europe's major cities.

But even so, they won't leave.

Disorientated, she welcomes outsiders
who brand her as provincial.

They don't accept her as she is,
and not as they would like her to be.

But even so, they stay.

Barcelona is a lady who rejuvenated
with the Olympic facelift

and that he doesn't understand why now
every day feels like Monday.

She doesn't know why they want to take
her VIP card of world history.

Between, one thing and another,

floating like beggars' turds
in the oily water.

People are trying to survive.
Including myself.

A listener with a voice, but without vote.

Pere-Lluc? I'm Peyró. Bad news, kid.

I'm sorry to tell you this,
but Nicco Zenone died.

I've just arrived from Buenos Aires
and they told me.

It seems to have been in December.

Nicco, the great Nicco.

Known to the public
for its wonderful shows.

But he was the most generous friend
I've ever had.

Actor and theater director,
pure Argentinian.

Not for the sake of reasoning,

although I came to think of it
as perfection.

Work made him travel
and that's how we met.

He lived in San Telmo, Buenos Aires,
with Vera, his wife.

We made an effort
to maintain our friendship

calling each other often, but we went
months without seeing each other.

We'd been seeing each other
once a year for over ten years.

What's left, I chew or swallow it.
You can also…

I once spent three weeks
with them in Buenos Aires.

You know what?

Freedom is demonstrated by sharing it.

A lonely man ends up
being unsupportive and inhuman.

Two years ago,
he overcame a very bad hepatitis.

I was never afraid to die.

But the anguish of death did make me
shit my pants several times.

You're as unoriginal as everyone else.

I could show up there unannounced,
even if they weren't there.

The door remained the same,
wide open for travelers.

His presence in my life was,
to put it idiotically,

a branch to hold on to
so I wouldn't fall off the cliff.

Now the branch has broken off.

Buenos Aires, Argentina.
Vera and Nicco Zenone, Umberto Primo.

I'll feel calmer if I call
his wife at midnight.

Luckily for both of us, I can't reach her.

I am sad and I go out to drink
to the health of my late friend.

I keep thinking that Nicco is dead.

It is a treacherous attack,
an immense swindle.

Dammit.

Are you hurt?

We could go to a pharmacy if you like.
The blow does not look good.

Well, sorry. I have to keep working.

RUSSIAN CIRCUS

Hello.

At the Gelida.

Don't be late, okay? I'm tired.

Well, maybe.

Well, tomorrow you will see.
It's just three streets.

Just three streets.

I work with my godfather.

He has converted his former agency

in business academy
and stock market consultancy.

Obesity as a risk factor. Listen.

Thank goodness I had him.
He picked me up at my worst moment.

I had just left teaching

and, being an idiot,
had not foreseen alternatives.

I organize courses and conferences
with quite good results.

…colon, kidney, endometrial,
and esophageal tumors

can be attributed to overweight
and lack of physical exercise.

A more active lifestyle is needed,

both physically and intellectually.

You look poorly.

-I don't usually have friends die on me.
-Pere-Lluc?

Human beings, like animals,
create bonds of affection.

The monkeys love and hate
each other, but cannot ponder.

-So what?
-No. You're a mess.

More than when your father died.
You were very young and he was old.

Now you're older
and the dead man is your age.

Remember the dead and help his relatives,
they need it most.

If you were really friends.

By the way, what's this bump?

Nothing. I hit my head with a ladder.

Your skin is very thin.

Sometimes I think that when you
were a hippie you took something weird

and the effect still lasts.

My godfather has made his fortune
by sensing the sign of the times:

Money.

I have two friends.

Jordina Valldejolí,
my godfather's right-hand woman.

She got married, had a child,
divorced, and now lives with her child.

We're very fond of each other,
which is more than many couples have.

Once we made love.
She was very sad and lonely.

We embraced and one thing led to another.

She is actually in love with Àlex Mallol,

my second friend
and third pillar of the Càrdenas office.

A secret love and lived in silence,

because he is a peaceful guy
but unsentimental.

He lives a, apparently placid,
married life.

Àlex and I are old friends.
We shared a house about 15 years ago.

He's as big an idiot as I am,
but he manages failure differently.

I'm often introduced to girls.

I met my last girlfriend through Jordina.

It was my record time as a couple:
Eight and a half months.

She put up with me because,
with a payroll, idiocy was easier on her.

-Yes, it was silly!
-I told you: "Anyone but Silvia."

She said that she couldn't live
with someone emotionally unstable.

I once slept with a radical feminist
who was dating one of my best friends.

He had gone to Mexico
on an initiation trip,

with no return date.

Penetration and passionate kissing
and/or French kissing is forbidden.

-Sorry, what?
-Yes.

It's an intolerable assault on my body.
Besides, I'm in love with Xavi.

It's not incompatible nor contradictory.

Men are savages.

As long as our vaginas
are lubricated for penetration

and we keep your mouths tight
around your penises,

you don't want or need anything else.

I didn't argue with her.
Deep down I agreed.

That's how we used to sleep together,
which was what we both wanted.

I agreed to make love to her
without penetrating or kissing her.

The rest of the immense possibilities
remained open.

My love life
has always been fits and starts.

It's been over three years
since my last stable relationship.

Beautiful.

Since then, a few achievements
in blood and fire, to keep appearances.

My fetishes are like those of many people
in quality and quantity.

Well, you could say that I have
a certain propensity for masturbation,

but no big deal.

I remember Nicco, as alive as I am.

It's madness.
Five months thinking he was alive,

and me, not a fucking premonition,
no fucking telepathy.

The Rondas are perfect to avoid thinking.

I merge in and start driving in circles
like a carousel horse.

It's a miracle to go always forward
and end up at the origin.

Now I understand the navigators
who proved that the Earth was round.

Like a dog that has lost the scent,
I smell the girl again.

-How are you?
-Long live Barça.

Yeah.

Erm, well…

I saw you working a few days ago
and I'm interested in hiring you.

I even followed you
for a while to see how you did it.

I don't remember you.

The company is run by a lady
and her husband, talk to them.

Of course.

-Well, she really works, doesn't she?
-Yes.

And even more so as the boss.
She likes her job.

There are nights when we compete
and she always wins.

I don't really mind that.
But I don't have much more.

Do you know what I would do with
the fucking banners if I won the lottery?

Yes.

-Where is she?
-Having some coffee. She'll be back soon.

I'll call her tomorrow.

In five minutes, you will be able to talk.

No, don't worry. Besides, it's late
and I'm not from around here.

-Long live Barça.
-Yes.

I'd like to know what to say.

I'd like to know what to say.

A Beefeater gin and tonic, please.

Could you serve her
a Beefeater gin and tonic?

The most rewarding
thing about being an idiot

is that it allows you not to waste
your time justifying your actions.

Excuse me, have you
been waiting for a long time?

Come in, please. Come in.

ENTRANCE

I had gone out for a moment.
Well, then that's it. How can I help you.

Oh, haven't we met before?

Erm, yes. The other night
I bumped into your ladder.

-That's true. How's the blow?
-Well, there it is. Better, it's better.

Yeah… Are you interested in any
of the services we offer?

I like it very much.

To be addressed so politely
excites me terribly.

I feel like I'm in a film
of the Nouvelle Vague.

Forgive me, but I'll forget it.
I am taking stock.

You should know that
we are among the best in the business.

But… There's always a but, isn't there?

My husband and I won't hang

a single banner
that goes against our ideas.

And, if the matter is urgent,
we're unable to attend to you right now.

That's fine. No problem, I don't even know
what to put on the banners.

I'm afraid I don't understand.
Don't you know what you want to announce?

Indeed.

The city only allows banners of cultural
or political interest.

Of course. I knew that already.

I see what you mean! You're saying that
you don't know how to draft or design it.

Precisely.

And while you ponder on that,
you want to compare companies.

-To buy time, right?
-Yes.

All right, here's the difference.

Others will try to convince
you that canvas is best

and they'd be right, it's traditional.
But it costs ten times more.

Here we work on a special
German plastic that imitates canvas.

Same performance,
but much more competitively priced.

Do you have the slightest
idea what to announce?

-No.
-No…

-Well, this is all a bit weird.
-Yes, but don't worry.

I just want to know the prices
and payment terms and…

It depends on many things.

It depends on the material we choose,
the quantity, the colors, the season.

We must know if you'll bring your banners

or if you'd like the printing
and hanging service.

The cost varies greatly in these cases.

It will seem reasonable
no matter what it is.

Well, if you haven't designed
the banner yet, it's best to wait.

I feel like a disgusting slug.

I wouldn't want her to mature
the idea that I'm an idiot.

She'll discover it in time.

There's no rush.

I've thought it over,
I'll order the work from you.

Plastic banner imitating canvas.

Ah, congratulations. It seems like
a practical and intelligent decision.

Wait a minute.

Here. In addition to the rates,
you will find a bank form.

Take your time to read it.
It refers to very favorable credits.

I don't think you'll get one, you don't
have a clear project, but you could try.

It would be terrible
if everyone thought so.

-Especially people without a penny.
-Don't worry, you'll see.

Once the core of the message is clear,
everything else will come to you.

Of course.

Yes?

-Pere-Lluc?
-Vera!

Nicco had a fatal heart attack.

He was sitting in his rocking chair.

Naked because it was summer
and no one could see him.

Nicco?

Nicco!

Nicco Zenone.

I was tortured by the uncertainty.

The fact that I didn't know if it could
have been in my hands to save him.

I wanted someone to come and punish me.
To punish me hard.

Vera, you have to promise to come
and visit me.

For now it will be difficult.

-Farewell, my friend. Goodbye.
-Goodbye.

I must calm down, I must forget Nicco.

Now it's time to focus on the girl,
banners, vans, and husband.

They are well located,
they will not escape.

Stress is an ongoing problem
with many negative effects,

not only for mental health,
but also for physical health.

Gastrointestinal problems,
cardiovascular problems, headaches…

I've prepared for the course thoroughly.

But I find it hard to concentrate.

A low-stress worker is synonymous
with a more productive worker.

I don't know what you
want it for and I won't ask.

But when dealing with banks,
you don't know how it will turn out.

I could endorse you,
but be aware of the consequences.

I take no responsibility.

Opening up to banking
is like asking for a grant.

They always want you
to show them everything,

that you appear before them,
fiscally, stark naked.

They want the last four tax returns.

They are not interested in the fifth.
Do you know why? I'll tell you.

Because it is time-barred.

They don't care if you were
a model citizen five years ago

or the greatest swindler of the century.

Banks are like God:

They ask for everything and,
in the end, they refuse you credit.

How much do you need?

Twelve thousand. A couple million.

Fuck.

Now what?

It's time to return home.
There is a limit to idiocy.

But not mine.

After years and years of practice it
is immense, gigantic, colossal, bulimic.

-When does the film start?
-At half past.

Shall we eat dinner?

I'm pushing my luck too hard.
That's enough.

I'm aroused by what I've done.

The worst thing is, the further away I am,
the less remorse I have.

After years of lethargy,
my life is no longer placid and confusing.

My idiocy, indomitable, active, playful,
pushes me to return to her house.

One, one hundred, one thousand,

one million times.

I'm aroused by knowing

that even as a criminal voyeur
I'll be no big deal.

And that, in the short to medium term,
I will end up failing.

I enter a world of sensations
unknown but true,

made of the barest
and most penetrating reality,

that gives form, substance,
and meaning to existence.

It's as if I pushed a button
and everything sped up.

One of the drawbacks of being an idiot
is that you tend to slow life down.

And, if you get careless,
like me in recent years,

you fall into the absolute vital zero
almost without realizing it.

Perhaps I've found my own way
of atonement.

I must atone for the idiocy
of reaching 35 and having nothing.

Ours is a generation of idiots
that no one will talk about.

A generational black hole.

By spying on her, I will atone.

Expiating, I will spy on her.

I've been leading a double life for days.

-I've fallen in love with a girl.
-What?

And since I don't have the balls
to talk to her, I spy on her.

You're weird, huh? You're weird.

You drive the Rondas
like an amusement park,

you show your cock in public
and now you're doing illegal surveillance.

Since you can't avoid it,
take advantage of it, right?

Yes? What do you mean, smart guy?

You are just like John Merrick,
the Elephant Man: A monster.

And in spite of the misfortune,
do you know what the advantage is?

I don't know.

We normal people think that those
who have been screwed by life,

with a serious physical problem,
they are rather wise guys.

-Do you think so?
-Yes!

We take it for granted that,
being so, they are above pettiness.

And even of evil.

Their hatred is accepted, forgiven

and many consider it a sign
of the greatness of their spirit.

The more fucked up they are,
the wiser and better we see them.

-So what?
-Put yourself in their shoes.

Think what they can do
to the 99% of us normal.

I find it exaggerated, hypocritical,
cynical, and bastardic.

Think what you want, but that's
the way it is. And you are the same.

No, sorry. You confuse being weird
with being an idiot.

But you know what?
Tonight I will spy on her again.

He always has weed on him.
Smoking, for him, is communication.

Like talking on the phone for others.

Sometimes you have to guess
whether he's sad or stoned.

One advantage of being an idiot
is not having to justify yourself 100%.

And one drawback is that you accumulate
mistakes faster than others.

As I've grown more confident,
I have become more and more daring.

Only an idiot would prowl the house
in this weather.

I am less and less careful.

It is clear that she's suspicious.

And determined as she is,
with or without a husband,

my days as a spy are numbered.

No, please!

No, please!

No!

-Please…
-No…

-No! Please. No!
-Shut…

If you don't stop screaming, I'll smash
your face into the ground. Shut up!

Shut up. Like that.
So, good. Don't get scared.

I'm not going to hurt you. I am no thief.
Look, let's do something.

Now, I'm going to let you go
and I'm going to stand back there.

Calmly. I will remain seated.
Without moving. I will do nothing.

Okay? Can you hear me?
Do whatever you want with me.

Tie me up, call the police,
whatever you want.

Understood? Nod if you understood me.

Very well.

I'll let you go now.

See? That's it. It's all right.

It's all right…

That's it. See? It's all right.
I won't do anything.

Damn!

Fuck…

Will you please fucking call someone?

No. Please, no.

You've been hanging around
the house lately, haven't you?

Yes.

Why? We don't have anything of value.

I'm no thief.

-You're not?
-No.

What are you then?

A harmless idiot.

How many times have you spied on me?

-Not many.
-What have you seen?

Just you.

-Me?
-Yes, I've watched you working.

How you clean the house,
how you rule your life.

You look happy.

You're crazy. Happy? Screw you.

The whole story of the banners…
Was it a lie?

-Yes.
-All to talk to me?

Yes.

You're a bastard, man.

I don't forgive you, do you understand?
Who the fuck do you think you are!

If you want everyone to look at you,
go to a bridge and jump!

I don't want everyone to look at me.

You just want me to look at you.

-Yes.
-Let's see if I understand.

One night I split your head open
with my ladder

and you fell in love platonically.

Is that it?

More or less.

Things don't work that way.

How do they work?

Leave me alone. I'm sick
of people like you, for fuck's sake.

It's okay.

No.

I don't want to see you anymore!

Better for all. She inside
and me outside, as it should be.

Unfortunately,
I do want to see more of her.

And I will.

Don't worry, it's me.
I used Godfather's keys.

Dude, you are so screwed.

You almost gave yourself pneumonia.

-You took quite a blow to the head.
-It is nothing.

-Stay in bed today.
-No…

I wouldn't be surprised if
you were really anemic.

You, a graduate,
a civil servant of the Generalitat,

secondary school teacher on leave,
instructor at Càrdenas,

what mess have you gotten into?

Chicken consommé
with egg yolk and a little cognac.

-Eat it and go to sleep.
-Jordina…

And don't get up. You have a fever.

-I'm not hungry.
-All of it.

Pere-Lluc.

Pere-Lluc.

Pere-Lluc.

Nicco…

Relax, it's me.

-I brought Àlex to keep you company.
-Thank you, Jordina.

Hey! That's a lot!

Maybe I've gone a bit overboard
with the cognac, but don't make a fuss.

It will do you good to sleep.

And it's good cognac.
It won't be bad for you. Come on, baby.

What a whore!
She got me drunk to fuck in peace.

While I was here, in the flesh.

I wish them luck, especially her.
She'll need it.

I don't mind you using
my flat to be with Alex.

But don't get me drunk. There's no need.

Don't get mad.
I promise you I didn't mean to do it.

I have waited so long for him
to make up his mind, and finally…

Poor Pere-Lluc.

Cheer up or you'll get really sick.
Depressions remove the body's defenses.

Anemia is very treacherous
and viruses are very nasty.

-Are you sure it wasn't the motorbike?
-No, it was with a stick.

By the same girl who
hit you with the ladder, right?

No, I hit myself with the ladder.

-Come on, man!
-Some loves kill.

Not only am I an idiot, but I'm turning
into a predictable, textbook psychopath.

Sorry.
Listen for a moment. No, don't be afraid.

Bastard, son of a bitch!
Following me again?

Or did you find me by chance?

Yes and no. I was on my way home,
I saw you and I couldn't help but stop.

I wanted to thank you.

-What are you talking about?
-No, listen!

It's the least I can do
after your generosity.

You didn't report me.

We lying idiots
know how to be very convincing.

Oh, really? The other day
was the other day and today is today.

Don't push your luck.

My husband's coming to pick me up,
he's on his way.

He knows everything. He'll kill you!

-I'm not sure.
-Forget me, for fuck's sake.

Excuse me,
can you give this card to that girl?

Thank you.

I want you to see
that I'm not afraid of you.

I'm not afraid of you.

So be careful,
there are a lot of people here.

In two seconds everyone
would be on to you.

In all the confusion, maybe I'd poke
your eye out with my nail file.

-You don't need to be so convoluted.
-Of course, I forgot.

You'd lean your head on the bar
and offer me your eye yourself.

Yes.

Pere-Lluc Solans.
Why are you giving me this?

-So you can see that you've got me.
-I don't want you at all.

-It could be fake.
-Yes, but it's not.

It isn't.

So it wasn't a lie that you were working
in some kind of academy?

I've never met anyone like you before.

I'm really waiting for my husband,
it's true!

We work at night and sometimes
it is difficult to organize our schedules.

Won't you say anything?

Aren't you afraid to meet him?

Yes, very much. No one likes to have
their face smashed in, but…

-I would consider it fair compensation.
-What do you want? To make a fuss?

No. Let me just be with you for a while.

In silence, if you like.
You can slap me if you want.

Dammit…

You'll help me kill time.

Since you're a clown,
you'll distract me for a while.

But you are a dangerous drunk.
Do you always go for all or nothing?

No, never. Quite the contrary.

It is curious that…

It's so easy to do something
that five minutes earlier

you would have considered crazy.

When people are lonely
they go to the cinema or to the theater.

Or to a bar, but not to harass others.

What did you see while
you were spying on me?

How you sunbathed.

How you prepared dinner,
how you did your manicure.

-Nothing else?
-Nothing.

Pigs like you only want
to see naked chicks.

I assure you that this is not the case.

I have never touched a fly in my life

and you forced me to bring out
my most disgusting side.

Both today and the other day.

And I'll never forgive
you for that, asshole!

She's pissed off.

Like when they get angry in comic strips
and they draw thunder and lightning.

I'm shaking with arousal
and I don't want her to notice.

What's wrong? I'm leaving too.
Today my husband is away.

-How will you get home?
-What do you care?

Taxi!

I have always let chance organize my life.

I have left myself adrift
in everyday life.

My inner contradictions
come to the surface.

This makes the core of my character
all the more evident and magnificent:

Idiocy.

But, right now, chance always goes
in the same direction.

Life, with its impassive flow,
leads me to this girl.

It would take an iron will to stop myself.

Are you bring it or not?

Do you know what? Forget it.
I have to go. Goodbye.

So I settle in, as if playing dead at sea.

Close your eyes

and ten minutes later you open them
to see where the tide has taken you.

It's always at night
and I'm parked next to her van.

It's as easy as that.

Over time, she relaxes.

Curiosity gets the best of her.

-Don't you like insecure people?
-Huh? No way.

In fact, if anything,
I see insecurity everywhere.

Some mornings I'm not sure
if I'll find myself in the mirror.

Everyone thinks they're different
from who they are.

We tend to see ourselves as
we would like to be, not as we are.

Really?

Of course, otherwise none of us
would have enough patience

to stand ourselves as we are.

I don't think she has many friends.

Maybe the ones she has
are no good for her.

When she speaks to me, it often seems
that she speaks to herself.

The main difference between
living in a couple and not…

When you pick someone up and go to bed,
they undress you.

If you live with someone,
you undress yourself and wait.

For the record,
this happens to all couples.

I have read that a person in love
always ends up looking ridiculous.

The opportunities for ridicule
multiply 24 hours a day.

If you're going to do it…
You might as well do it for love, right?

I like to know that.

When was the last time you made
a fool of yourself over love?

I don't know.

I have to go. My husband is already here.

Well, good luck.

And don't be so stubborn, man.
You're paying, right?

I think she has forgiven me

and that she doesn't want to stab
my eye anymore.

Thank you. There are 32 banners left.
32 banners with studs.

Wooden… How wide is it?

-Darling.
-Hello.

My back hurts from climbing the ladder.

I can't find that part of the street.
The guide must be old.

I'm a suicidal idiot and this girl,

as well as blonde, beautiful,
determined, and sexy,

is a bit of a whore.

But I don't care.

I'm starting to be happy
with my dependence.

I'm off to lunch.

-I am very angry with you.
-Why?

You still haven't asked me
how it's going with Àlex.

You are selfish.

Sorry, I'm asking you now.
It was for the sake of discretion.

It's a lie, but it doesn't matter.

-How are you doing?
-I can't talk about it yet.

Then?

Just because I can't talk about it doesn't
mean I don't appreciate that you care.

-Shall we?
-Yes, let's go.

You will never understand anything.

Jordina is tense.
Does your wife know you two are doing it?

No.

-Do you plan to tell her?
-No.

Will you tell Jordina
that you won't tell her?

No.

-Do you love Jordina?
-Yes. No. Oh, I don't know.

-She is crazy about you.
-Yes.

I don't understand. Why don't you give in?

Because I know the process by heart
and it bores me.

You don't understand because
you have no experience.

Thank you.

I am skeptical. I despise our times.

In the face of immorality these days,
I can only think: "Ha, ha, ha."

-"Ha, ha, ha?"
-Yes, a hearty laugh.

I only get to the bottom of things
if they are filtered by my skepticism.

-Can you define "skepticism?"
-No.

It's an attitude marked
by the systematic trend

to doubt what others think is right.

And what do I find?

So, what do I find?

You show up in love
and demand that I behave like you.

Don't insult my intelligence.

Only fools base their existence on love.
Which is ephemeral.

And that, as a vital motor,
it is lazy and boring.

And reactionary.

We are not Americans, in love with love.

My friend is my reflection.
I look at him and I see myself.

Americans are childish,
fall in love and get together.

And, at the first problem, they divorce.
The easy solution. Why?

Because in love it is enough
to like each other,

and be charming.

And in a couple, you have to put up
with each other's faults to be happy.

-Stoically.
-Yes. What is love?

It is a dialogue between friends
and enemies, identities, and differences.

It is a struggle between similarities
and differences, which is why we suffer.

I don't mind suffering.

I do. I'm fed up.
I don't know if I want to risk it.

Jordina senses this and becomes sad.

I put up with the sermons.

His dream is a world

in which to plant football fields full
of marijuana.

Do you know what the soul is like?

It has the shape, color,
and substance of a Palamós shrimp.

I'll prove it.

But you said the world was a fish stock.

Of course. Prawns make a good broth.
The broth of the soul.

I'm very impressed.

Because the truth of life impresses,
it is attractive, it provokes vertigo.

And, according to you, what form
does love take? Rock mussel shape?

Love is nothing. It doesn't exist.

It's an invention of the rich
that we poor people did not even consider.

We poor people are a collective,
and collectives do not fall in love.

-I am poor and in love.
-You, poor thing?

If anything, poor soul,

that in the global era you still believe
that love gives meaning to your life.

You've never done well with girls.
It is too late. You're weird, man.

And you? You can't say whatever you want
about me just because I'm an idiot.

Don't get angry, take it easy.
I have to go.

Hey, thanks for lending me your flat.
I got a copy of the key.

Mr. Solans, could you come by the office?

We want to talk about the contract
of the banners. Thank you.

Dammit!

You sure came quickly.

You're probably wondering
why I let you touch me.

Don't get your hopes up,
I wanted to avoid tragedy.

Thank you very much.

Don't be cynical.

I've grown used to you.

You're good for scaring off drunks.

You don't have a big physical presence,
but you slow them down a bit.

The truth is that when I waited alone,
I was bored out of my mind.

Yes? What's going on?

As you wish. Yes, fine. See you later.

That was my husband, he doesn't know
when he'll be back.

They took both vans and left me here.

If you want I'll take you home.
I don't have any plans.

Take me? What are you saying?
I don't have a helmet.

No problem. I'll go get one,
and come back.

It's ten minutes, while you close shop.

Jordina.

-What's wrong?
-It's me.

-Did something happen?
-No.

-I need a favor.
-What?

-Can I borrow your car?
-Yes.

Look, here.

-I won't be back when you leave.
-Don't worry, we'll take a taxi.

-Seriously?
-Yes.

My husband won't be home until very late.

I don't know if you had plans,
but we could have dinner together.

I'll lift your punishment
for a couple of hours.

Then I'll call home so he'll for me.

Gentlemen.

-The sandwich?
-Thanks.

To the banners.

That's right, to the banners.

Well, I got married three years ago.

I came from Valladolid with the clothes
on my back,

now I have a cat to scare mice away,
and a tiny bunny.

My house is very cold, it's very humid.
And we spend a lot on heating.

The doors don't close properly
and the heat gets out.

The wood furnace is great.

In my building they think I'm mad.

Oh, really? I'm not surprised.

I want to change
all the building's windows

and change them for white PVC,
but there is no way. I always lose votes.

-You don't know anything about me.
-Well, what I know is enough.

You're right because
my story isn't very bright…

My husband treats me like a queen.
The company is…

The culmination of a dream
of professional independence.

Do you know what I hate about him?

He often makes me nervous
and he never knows why.

And that makes me even more nervous.

-Well, I hardly ever argue.
-You don't?

No, because if the issue is secondary,
I agree with them.

Of course.

And if it's important, it's very hard
to change their minds.

-It's not worth arguing.
-You're right.

Look at him, he's a real philosopher.
A stalker, a spy…

And a philosopher.

I look at her and I'm salivating.
This is a delicate issue.

I feel like the wolf
in Little Red Riding Hood.

I am really sick.

Did you see how they looked at me?
I have been on the verge of…

I give her a kiss in two stages.
Sweet first. Then abrupt, deep.

It's exhibitionist,
immature, ostentatious,

and annoying,
because we are no longer children.

With our mouths glued together,
we survive by breathing through our noses.

After two cyanotic minutes
and 30 seconds, we stopped.

You're not a poet too?

-No.
-Good.

I liked the taste of your mouth,
but poetry lowers my libido.

And a kiss means nothing.

Thank you.

I don't have condoms.

I do.

I utter an incantation, mentally,

in case it seems like poetic prose
and lowers her libido.

Earthquakes, typhoons, floods, disasters,

calamities, cataclysms, catastrophes,
or simple hardships.

Let them come and catch me in the act.

Let them carry me back and forth
as the sea.

Let them turn me inside out
and outside in.

My skin to be turned inside out
like a sock.

Let them come, I'm waiting for them!

What do you want?

I am going through a confusing time.
Don't take advantage of me.

I've been wanting to be with you for days.

I knew it would happen, sooner or later.

But I never would have taken
the first step.

The lady has already paid.
She took a cab ten minutes ago.

-Thank you very much.
-You're welcome.

The first station of my Via Crucis
was to spy on her.

The second was to follow her
and trust that she would talk to me.

The third,

meeting each other when she works,
knowing she's expecting me.

Because now she informs me
where she will be and at what time.

She doesn't slap me anymore.
We don't argue, we don't even talk.

Now we fuck.

It's the most idiotic Via Crucis
in history. It is the anti-Via Crucis.

Circumstantial love in a car,
as if the world were coming to an end.

Like two homeless tramps,
we make the most of every nook and cranny.

It is impossible to explain
such a contrast of feelings.

It is provoked by the intimate mixture
of pleasure and fear.

Or the pleasure and difficulty
of achieving it.

Or, simply, the pleasure and,
all around, the dirt or the cold.

Perhaps she, like me is also afraid

of ending up living immersed
in an existential inertia,

neither dead nor alive.

Living neither in the present
nor in the past,

nor in the future.

Kept by our idiocy
in a continuous unconsciousness,

slimy, gelatinous, with an expiry date.

Every time I try to talk,
she tells me to shut up.

She makes love to me with a tragic sense.

She has entered my life in such
an unselfish, and affectionate way…

I don't understand. I'm just an idiot.

The sooner she realizes this,
the better for everyone.

A flash goes through my head.

Nothing indicates that she thinks of me
not one-hundredth of what I think of her.

I know that all this cannot last forever.

It is the sensation of being absorbed.

The usual impulse that gets me
into trouble.

Our sex is ugly, dirty, ragged, wretched.

-Yes?
-You called me.

It must have been my wife.
She's not here, but she won't be long.

-You can't stay and wait, I'm closing.
-Don't worry. I will be back.

If you know what you want to advertise,
we can provide our services.

Even if we do not share the message 100%.

-Hello, have you been waiting for long?
-No.

-You don't look good.
-I just didn't sleep very well tonight.

My husband will be out all day.

Have you seen?
I have an important business lunch.

This makes me look serious, so I'm not
treated as my husband's secretary,

nothing makes me more nervous.

I have always been faithful to my husband.

Always, until now.

But I feel very good with you.

I have very little past, no future,
and almost no present.

I'll have to find another suit.

If you want us to keep making
love on the sly, we'll do it. Wherever.

What do you think about chance?

You mean because of our meeting?

You think it's a stroke of fate,
don't you?

Why not?

You are stimulated by the thought of fate.
You find it romantic.

Not me.

For me, it's the result that counts.

Chance doesn't exist.

We only have…

A small piece of insight
into one aspect of life.

We think that something is the result
of chance

but there could be a unifying thread that,
by stretching it,

would show a cause-effect relationship.

Come on, woman.

So, it was inevitable that I would collide
with your ladder.

No, not inevitable, but possible.
And even likely.

Chance only exists in novels.
Full of chance encounters.

-Like ours.
-Our meeting was not fortuitous.

You were spying on me.

That triggered everything else
and now we are where we are.

Where is the chance?

-You are a romantic.
-Yes, I am.

That's the state of things.
That and nothing else.

We idiots have ultra-sensitive ears.

I want to cry with gratitude.

Farmacur are holding a cocktail party
and we have been invited.

If you want we can go.
We will have a good time.

Today I am a free girl.

How nice.

What is your name?

Sandra.

Are you there, Pere-Lluc?

I want to tell you that I'm closing
the flat in San Telmo.

I haven't lived there for a long time
and I'm leaving it.

In memory of Nicco,
I kept it open for more than six months.

Rummaging around I found things

and wanted to give them to his friends,
as a token to remember him by.

-Thank you for coming.
-Thank you for having us.

I'll go get some drinks.

Hi, can I have a couple of drinks?

Come.

-Thanks.
-Who is that?

The inventor of the Cadiblop,
the multi-purpose sponge chair.

Utility or aesthetics?

This dilemma, for me,
at the beginning of the 21st century,

simply does not exist.

A kettle is as useful as a watering can,

but we associate positive feelings with
the kettle,

such as warmth or well-being,

and neutral feelings
with the watering can.

Shall we go?

Result? We design beautiful teapots
made of noble materials

and watering cans are no more
than brass and plastic.

I love you
and I want to have children with you.

What should we would do now?

I'd have you over at my flat,
but some friends are squatting there.

I'll tell you about it.

Come on, get in.

-Pere-Lluc…
-What?

We should let everything
that is happening to us rest for a while.

What do you mean?

Can you kick me just like that?
What has changed in an hour?

I don't know. I am an idiot.

Go down. You can call a cab.

Pere-Lluc…

I'm going home.

I need a favor, don't ask questions.

And above all, do nothing.
Don't look for me.

Don't call me, I'll call you.

I'll call you, I promise. Can you hear me?

Five sentences, five punches. Dammit.

Maybe it's all over.

I may not be able to make love
to you again on the sly in 20 minutes.

I was told to wait,
that you would call me back.

And, docile, I obey.

A month has passed and no sign of life.

If it weren't for my friends…
I've told them about Sandra.

To lighten the wait,
they try to distract me.

I'm delighted.

No matter what I think,
it was 15 years ago, why?

Because we haven't done
anything useful, look at me.

-Come on, man!
-Yes, but it has been 15 years.

What have we been doing all this time?

We're talking about 15 years ago,

when the same idiocy made us feel
metaphysical concerns.

We did psychophonies
and everyone had heard something.

Or we tried astral travel.

We wanted to leave our body
in an unknown direction.

We concentrated, holding hands.

The preferred destinations
were the unverifiable: India,

Greenland… As far as Ganymede.

-Once… Do you remember, Àlex?
-Yes.

A lady assured us that she traveled
astrally to her village.

She told us that she saw her father
run over the dog with an R-4.

I can claim to be the inventor
of Catalan astral travel.

-Yes? What is it like?
-I'm serious, right?

It consists of getting out of the body,
but without going too far.

I was concentrating, starting to rise,
but I couldn't.

Try as I might, I never got past
the dining room ceiling.

He got stuck to the light fixture.

I never made it upstairs.

It's the first case in the history
of psychedelia

of astral travel of gallinaceous flight.

-Did you want to fly too?
-I don't remember anything.

I smoked a lot, then.

-Now, not even when high.
-What do you mean?

We can't even hide from
the fucking reality by smoking.

Human life is worth less than dog shit.

Is life worth so little?

I look at mine
and it seems so little to me…

I used to think that it was not
logical for life to happen this way.

Life could not be like that.

I thought that something would happen
that would make sense.

I sensed that I could live my whole life

without anything happening
and I got scared.

Then I had my son.

And I am no longer interested
in that issue.

It's stuck.

Sometimes it switches itself on and off.

If you hit the brakes, it'll start again.

-How do you stop it?
-I don't know, it does it on its own.

Sometimes, I say to my son: "Shall we get
on the motorway to listen to the CD?"

And he loves it.

The adventure begins brushing our teeth.

We must take care, to avoid incidents.

On this long journey
That begins by reading.

A book is the luggage…

For overnight travel.

May your dreams come true.

Good night.

I miss Sandra very much.

Fucking shitty messages.

And, docile, I obey.

Until I behave like a bastard.

-Shall we have dinner together?
-Yes.

Helena?

I'm sure I keep my erection just
by thinking that Sandra is on top of me.

It is not fair play.
She has taken a risk and I have not.

Quite the contrary.

To cum I thought about the girl I love.

I've been a son of a bitch.

It's not very nice to say that to someone
who just slept with you.

I guess not. That's why I had to tell you.

I know why I wanted to be with you.

I am alone, with grown-up children,

I work in Brussels and hadn't been back
in Barcelona in eight years.

I left a life here.

Now I'm back and I feel like a stranger.
I have no one.

Or who I have is as good as gone.
I am not interested.

I need affection, but intimate affection.
I thought you could give it to me.

At my age, I don't care about the risks.
But what about you?

-Why did you want to be with me?
-Why not?

I can be in love with Sandra
and feel free to be with you.

I have been waiting
for weeks for her call,

but I don't think it will ever come.

She told me not to call or look for her…
She will do it herself.

How long ago was this?

-One month.
-What do you want?

To take her away.

If she hasn't called in a month,
it's one of two things:

either she wants this to end
or she wants you to go looking for her.

She won't call.

Don't leave so soon.
What you have to do can wait a bit.

I'm going to Brussels tomorrow,
I won't bother you.

We may never see each other again.
But stay a little longer.

-It's impossible.
-I'm begging you.

Let's have another drink.
Just another drink.

-No!
-Fuck you, bastard.

And I would, if someone could tell me
the most direct way.

It's been months since I've done
the one thing I should be doing.

I don't understand myself.
I just left a magnificent woman.

I know I need to resolve
my relationship with Sandra.

I yearn…

I yearn…

I can't wait to get the hell out of here.

And what I do is go to Argentina.

Chasing Nicco.

At first, Vera stayed.
Then she left. It's to be expected, right?

Now she comes from time to time,
but not on a regular basis.

I didn't even know Nicco had died.
If not, I would've come to the funeral.

He was taken to Chacarita.
It's far, but it's easy to get to.

You can take the underground.
And Vera? Do you know how to find her?

Too bad she's not here.
I think she left for London recently.

Now that I've found him,
I don't know what to say.

Nicco does not leave me with a feeling
of tragedy and pain, on the contrary.

He offers me an atmosphere
of calmness and love.

With him,
I felt a little less like an idiot.

I'm leaving. Quiet and peaceful.

Now I know why I have come
to say goodbye to my friend.

It has been an essential shortcut
to get where I want to go.

Hi, it's me.

Hello.

-Do you mind me calling.
-No, did something happen?

No.

-Where are you?
-Buenos Aires.

-Ah, on holiday?
-No, I am saying goodbye to my friend.

-Are you okay?
-Yes.

-Do you feel better?
-Yes.

When do you plan to return?

Well… tonight or tomorrow. I don't know,
it depends a bit on the flights.

-Oh… Are you sure you're okay?
-I'm sure.

My friend left me some marbles
as an inheritance.

-Can you hear them?
-Yes.

-I think it's a good inheritance.
-Me too.

-Hi, it's me.
-Hello, where are you now?

At the airfield… Well, the airport.

-Are you flying to Barcelona?
-No, I'm going to Madrid. Can we talk?

-My husband picks me up in three minutes.
-We have two…

you'll have one left over to wait for him.

Sandra?

It's me again.

-Hello.
-I see you are already in the office.

I came in early to go over
some delivery notes.

-And your husband?
-He brought me here and left.

I am at the ae… No, I'm at…

No, tell me… Well, I'm at Madrid airport.

-I'm using a card, it won't get cut off.
-Good.

Thank you for calling.
When will you arrive?

I don't know. Around 21:00 p.m.
or so, why?

-Sandra?
-What?

-Maybe I'll call you back.
-Sounds fine. Safe travels.

See you later.

Yes, a month is enough time.

Excuse me.

You look tired.

-Yes, it's been a long trip.
-Do you want an aspirin?

Okay.

I'll get you one. I'll be right back.

Is no one here?
Is it the answering machine?

You hung up mid-sentence.
You know what? Goodbye and good riddance.

I have to deliver some material
with the van. Will you join me?

Okay.

-Wait, I'll drive.
-Very good.

I feel like I just kidnapped you.

It goes against my way of life,
but it is a case of force majeure.

The exception that proves the rule.

What are you thinking?

Nothing important.

The day I caught you spying on me,
you told me inaccurate things.

Don't misunderstand me.

I don't manage my own life and I'm not
a particularly happy or contented girl.

At least no more than many other people.

Do you understand?

I understand.

-Stop.
-What?

Stop!

-Here?
-Yes.

Life and I are two parallel lines,
each one on a pavement.

I feel unable to cross to the other side.

If the parallels only meet at infinity,
they are of no interest to me.

We idiots don't have access to that.

The closer it gets,
the more I feel pulled into the future.

Knowing that I cannot
offer you guarantees,

that love begins and ends, always.

And that hope, all the hope in the world,
are smoke, just smoke.

My life is a long and profitable
road to idiocy.

Like a woodworm in the wood,
it corrodes us to the end.

Time goes by and we don't change.

And experience does not make us wiser,
but older.

Love, in its absurdity,

makes us allow ourselves to be tempted
by a cloud of optimism.

Pere-Lluc!

I am an afflicted and eager man,

dedicated and grateful, hungry as a dog.

It's over.

We are leaving.

We idiots can only have faith,
hope, and charity.

And a little love, because it's free.