Original subtitles

You don't know how much you believe in the preservation of your life

until you have to eat a piece of your own flesh to survive.

That boy hadn't eaten for two weeks,

so he considered having a slice of his own leg for dinner.

He thought of this absurd and unnatural jungle

where young people die sooner.

He thought, finally, about the courage of being the first.

The first doctor to enlist, the first to board,

the first to discover the terror of genocide,

the first to fall out of the plane hit by a missile.

And while he vomited the flesh of his own leg,

he thought the first ones bear a courage

that nobody would ever remember.

And if it was not possible to survive as meat,

that boy decides to survive as earth.

That's when the cinema explodes in ecstasy!

I remember as if it was yesterday.

My buddies couldn’t wait to go to the street

and pretend to be soldiers the whole afternoon.

How could they?

I just wanted to go to the ocean.

To wash away the mud, the weight of the machine gun,

the taste of flesh in my mouth.

To wash away the taste of that loneliness,

so similar to mine.

So, I dove into the water,

I swam deep down.

I had great stamina.

Unlike now.

And when I resurfaced... That was it!

I had survived too.

As water.

Many years later

I found out the movie didn't end when the soldier was vomiting.

There was a heroic last half hour, everything worked out in the end.

But I erased that from my memory.

I watched his heroism with my eyes closed.

Maybe it's for the best, don't you think?

Are you talking to me, uncle?

Of course, Muriel. I am talking to you.

But you weren't supposed to listen.

How did you get hurt?

Oh, my nose...

My nose is bleeding, you...

You make me stay hours under the sun, that's what happens,

nose irritation.

I'm...

I'm gonna wash up and we'll go, your mom must be arriving soon.

DECEMBER 31ST, 1982

Speak louder so the whole bus can hear you!

Are you fucking with me?

You think I'm a little fag?

Speak up! Stop this fucking bus!

Why are you fucking with me?

Oh, you want a trans show?

So, you're gonna get a trans show!

Do you think you can do whatever you want with trans people?

Jump on me, faggot! You old queen!

Come out here! Come on!

"Ah, they should be killed!"

Come kill me!

Thirty days on a waiting list. Is that fair?

It fucking isn't!

This motherfucker rides in a crowded bus to bumfuck nowhere

and thinks he can fuck with me? You can't, love!

-60 days! Not 30. -Rose!

Were you at the hospital? What did you take?

I miss your brother, darling.

Is he back?

Were you admitted? Were you going to? Tell me, so I can help you.

That's right...

You work here.

I do, Rose.

And they throw you out like you ain't shit!

Motherfucking bus preacher!

"But, sir, you only have a cold."

"Sir", my ass!

I did not spend two million for these tits in Italy

to be called "sir".

Not for free!

Your hand, Rose.

Not for free...

And they never let you in.

It's because I'm trans.

That's why.

It's not because I have a cold.

It's because I am trans.

-Trans! -Rose, I work there.

I'll take care of your admission. Is that what you want?

You're okay, right?

Are you okay?

I can put on music too, uncle!

Nobody knows how to make that thing work, only me.

Just give me the records and I'll play them.

Muriel, I won't be doing anything tonight. Anything!

I know, uncle. You've said that already.

I can help with the set design too.

I have stuff from my childhood here:

glue, scissors, colored paper, everything.

For the last time, honey: I won't perform tonight.

Cut it out, it's tradition!

-Mom said it herself. -What do you know about tradition, kid?

Last time I danced on a New Year's party you were not even five.

You don't know squat!

There are pictures, dumbass!

Let's do this then: I will produce your show.

Since you know so much, you gotta learn how to be the star.

I won't dress up like a woman, uncle.

And why not?

You like to see it, right? It's no big deal.

-I know. -What then?

I think it has to look pretty. I don't look pretty.

Stop it. Don't be foolish.

Uncle, I told you I've seen the pictures.

I don't look pretty like you.

Where is it?

Come on, boys! We're late already!

-Filthy with sand and still want a kiss? -I was cooking, bitch.

Ooh la la, my gifted French lady!

Fifteen minutes to grab the groceries and get ready.

-Go! -Okay!

Mom, Vicente asked us to arrive early, okay?

Is anyone there already?

Mom, I'm talking to you!

Are you going to wear red?

Do you want love in the new year?

Mom, you know I don't like these jokes.

Love, love, love!

Are you sure you don't want to come with us?

I'm beat, Maura.

The jetlag is still fucking with me.

Cut it out, babe!

It's been three weeks since you arrived. This jetlag is just laziness.

-Give me a drag. -What?

You're too old to smoke in secret, sis.

I saw Rose today, that friend of yours.

Rose Moreau?

The one from the club, yes.

She wasn't okay, Su.

What happened?

She was in front of the hospital.

She got into a fight in the bus, broke a window...

Was she hospitalized?

No, no... But she was in bad shape.

Talking nonsense,

yelling a lot, showing her boobs...

-I don't know what happened. -Why didn't you take her inside?

-She was gone before I got a chance. -Was she feverish? Sweating?

Why do you ask? I don't know.

But she needs help, and you must know whom to contact.

Well, I don't know anyone here anymore.

Vitória is a small town, Suzano.

She can't hide for long. Reach out to her after the holidays.

Do you want to starve me to death, is that it?

Don't be late tonight.

You seem haggard.

Let's fill that belly with New Year's crap!

I'm on it.

-Who's your date this time? -I told you I don't know anyone anymore.

There's Joca, Pedrinho, Lincoln, Rogério...

Where are all these exes when you need them?

Get lost, you devil woman!

I told you to be an artist. There are no cute guys in Biology.

Now you're all alone on New Year's Eve,

like some run-of-the-mill spinster!

Good afternoon, Maura Morais.

Go fuck yourself, Maura Morais!

What's wrong, uncle?

I will see you soon, my loves.

I've waited so long for your call...

I brought the things you asked for.

So, Miss Maura finally moved to the beach!

Smart of her. You can't breathe in the city anymore.

Did you find what you were looking for?

All this rush for a school map?

Maybe there was nostalgia along with the rush.

Are you excited for the party tonight?

The whole gang knows you're back from France,

playing the mysterious type...

I told them you'd go.

You can't pass on a sissy party.

Don't make me pose as a liar!

You should go to honor Rose.

Is Rose singing?

How long since you last saw that?

Huh?

Joca, stop.

Stop it.

You're back.

It makes sense we get back together too.

I'm not back.

I'm on vacation.

Till when?

I'm going away tonight.

I have a husband waiting for me across the ocean.

A handsome, rich gringo daddy.

So rich and in love, that he gave me a ticket back to Paris.

So we could be together on New Year's.

I'm going now.

By midnight, I'll be flying first class drinking champagne.

While you party with the same faggots you've known for 15 years.

Joca, why would I ever get back to you?

Don't bullshit me, Suzano!

You were never into daddies.

You called me old, and I'm only eight years older.

-Just eight? -Eight.

Besides, no one flies on New Year's Eve.

I doubt there are flights now.

If you don't wanna fuck me, don't fuck me.

Others want to.

But we've known each other since we were kids.

Respect our history.

I'm fucked.

Is it blow?

No.

I quit that.

But Carlinhos is snorting my entire paycheck.

You're working then?

And your career? The plays, the theater company?

You know it's hard for someone like me to be an artist in Vitória.

Hey, settle down!

At least someone's waiting for you. Isn't that enough?

Look, here's a letter for Rose.

Give it to her in case I'm late and our star is too busy.

This is foreign currency my dad used to send me.

It's not much, and you'll have to exchange it, okay?

Won't you need it?

No.

-Your uncle isn't coming anymore, baby. -How come?

He just called. There's this party with his friends.

He's gonna go there for New Year's Eve.

What a load of crap! With no notice?

It'll be good for him, Muriel. He needs to meet new people.

So much time out of town,

he missed so much...

Let him have his fun.

What about our fun?

My love, I imagine you've already left for the party

and I'll have to talk to the machine.

I have little time.

I wanted to be there with you, in our house.

I saw you at the beach today, in the middle of nowhere.

You were different, but not in a bad way.

It was bright, very sunny,

impossible to make a mistake, I saw you.

I talked to you.

I decided to go ahead with our plans.

To see you faster, to meet you again.

We won't be able to talk for a few weeks,

but I'll fix everything.

I'll write to you and send you the new number.

My love?

What happened? I was getting ready to go out.

-I have ten seconds. -How is the party?

Listen to the message later.

I called to say I love you, to thank you for your love.

More than everything.

Adrian?

Love?

Love?

It's a new year in France.

Happy New Year, my love.

Ah, do you want me to do it again?

Sorry, I got distracted.

No, sure.

It was just a run-through.

After the show we'll do it better.

I'll be in the corners, you won't notice me.

It's so weird to know someone is filming me.

But it's a good weird.

Relax.

Make me look pretty, huh?

I want to see it later.

You bet.

Tell me...

Is that Stella's stage play?

Yeah.

Not the best time to hand this to me, huh?

You're gonna do it, right?

Rose...

you have to do it!

Think about it...

me playing Blanche.

Who?

Take this home, get to know it.

-Then you'll help me rehearse. -Deal.

Can you imagine?

You on the theater stage...

My dream since I was a child.

I'm late.

Sure, sure.

See you soon, Rose.

Wilsinho?

Wilsinho!

Hey.

Here's your weave, woman!

Thanks, babe.

NEW YEAR'S AT GENET

-Thank you. -She's coming down, okay?

What's up, Vitória!

Good evening!

How wonderful, all you queens here at our new club, huh?

Dying to suck some cock!

They say cock brings good luck to the new year, honey!

Look at Wilsinho, he's already sucking a dick!

My daughter!

Daughter, there is still five minutes left to midnight,

let go of the hunk...

The good thing about inaugurating a club on New Year's

is that the queens are flushed with cash, huh?

Holy faggotry!

Many of you got your holiday bonuses, right?

Yes, honey!

In 15 days, you're gonna be broke,

then you go clubbing and can't even afford a beer.

How wretched, fag!

You buy a bottle of water and keep refilling it over the bathroom sink.

Faggot!

Over the bathroom sink, faggot?

That sink is filled with old cum and pubes!

No! And she keeps drinking that water

because she came all the way from the hood, far as fuck,

just to camp it up in the club, right, henny?

Listen!

I'm gonna sing.

Actually, we're all gonna sing.

And together we'll start the new year singing!

I said "singing", Wilsinho.

Look,

you may find my choice of song a little dark,

a little odd...

But trust mamma here, it'll all end up well, okay?

A man also cries, brown girl

Also needs an embrace, soft words

He needs caress, he needs tenderness

He needs a hug, the very candor!

Warriors are people, so strong, so frail

Warriors are boys deep in their hearts

They need a rest, they need to recoil

They need a sleep that makes them anew

It's sad to see my man, a boy warrior

With the weight of his time on his shoulders

I see that he screams, I see that he bleeds

The pain he has in his heart, because he loves and loves

A man humiliates himself if his dream is castrated

His dream is his life, and life is labor

And, without his labor, a man has no honor

And without his honor he dies, he kills himself

You can't be happy You can't be happy

Hey, hey, stop!

Stop!

I killed the mood, sorry!

Jeez, I'm crazy. Sorry.

Let's change this up!

What the hell! It's New Year's!

So, you're gonna tell me we can't be happy?

Piss off!

Let's change this up and sing along!

You can be happy You can be happy

You can be happy...

You can be happy!

Here we go.

Countdown to 1983!

May it be light on us.

Here we go.

Twenty, nineteen, eighteen,

seventeen, sixteen, fifteen,

fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven,

ten, nine, eight, seven...

Six, five, four...

Three, two, one!

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, my dear!

I wish you all the best!

Thanks, Gilberto.

-Good night, kid. -Good night.

You are Humberto, son of Auxiliadora from the thrift shop by City Hall.

And you are João, son of Carminha from the Coffee's Creek?

"Jean". Here in Vitória I go by Jean.

Jean.

I saw you inside, I was sure it was you.

It was hard not to see you with all this stuff.

How come we've never talked before? I knew you were the only...

You know, the only one in our little town.

There were many more, Humberto.

But you were young and didn't notice.

Are you leaving?

Here.

-You complained you didn't drink enough. -Is it good, the wine?

No, of course not.

When is this film gonna be ready?

It's not a film. It's just a video exercise.

And Rose is the star?

She was born a star.

I've never talked to her,

but she seems a bit difficult.

-You don't know her. -Well, she did abandon you at the club.

I don't know...

You and her...

It seems like an improbable friendship.

You've just met me, young man.

But I know a lot already.

I'm great at reading people.

Well, then...

what's written

in me?

That.

That right there.

You were all loose,

giving off a fag vibe,

and now you are tense.

I think you spent too much time pretending to be someone else.

But not Rose.

She can't hide herself.

You think you've learned that from her, not to hide anymore.

But you just hid yourself from me.

Once again.

Motherfucker!

It was just a guess.

Did I get that much right?

I always have a card up my sleeve.

I usually say,

"If you were from where I am, you'd get me."

The problem is...

you are from where I am.

You can use this card with me all you want.

You have that right.

My mother didn't throw me out of the house.

It's always the mother's fault.

It always is.

I'm gonna find out what your mom did wrong to make you...

this way.

This way how?

No rush, young man.

I like how you call me "young man".

Always trying to seem older, straighter.

Full of masks.

I can't believe it...

I'm trembling.

Me too.

We better not. Not now.

It's okay, it's okay.

But I...

wanna keep kissing you.

Go on, then.

-What are you thinking about? -Life.

Isn't that what you're supposed to do on New Year's?

And do you have a life to think about, kid?

What's wrong with my uncle, mom?

Why is he that way?

What way?

It seems that he is not here.

He's back, but still not here.

Muriel, your uncle has his secrets.

We were raised to love each other deeply and never ask questions.

Speaking up means letting others worried about our problems, our paranoias,

and we don't like that.

Your grandma used to say that.

Suzano and I latched onto it.

But he wasn't always like that.

He used to be more like you, you know?

Don't you think he's less gloomy now?

Paris did him some good, huh?

I don't remember how he was, mom.

I was a child.

And soon he'll be gone again.

He was a child once too.

And you have to be careful.

Be careful, don't be that way.

You guys are really alike.

It's actually nerve-racking.

Be careful not to give the impression you are never here.

-Promise? -I do.

Yeah?

Yeah?

Son...

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

Pedrinho, good morning.

Has Humberto shown up today?

He told me he'd be at college by now.

Humberto, son of Auxiliadora from the thrift shop.

He told me I could reach him at this number.

No?

Humberto Cardoso Pereira.

Black, 5' 7'', crew cut, brown eyes.

Yes.

He has a scar down on his waist.

Yes, on the right side.

I'd like to talk to Mr. Humberto about a job offer.

-Is he there? -No.

He doesn't live here anymore.

Who is calling?

It's...

Ma'am, is there a number I can reach him?

It's urgent.

When was the last time you saw him?

Young man, stop calling me, please.

If you know my name and number, it's because he told you.

So, you know why my son doesn't live here.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Auxiliadora.

I don't know anything about him, I don't want to know.

If he's gone and won't talk to you,

it's because you did something horrible to him.

It's what he did to me.

-I'm sorry. -Stop calling me.

God bless you.

-Hi, Joca. -Hey.

-How are things today? -We have customers.

Do you know anything about her?

Nothing, Wilsinho.

Nobody's seen her.

-Nobody? No one said anything? -Nothing.

Are you still staying at her house?

I ran out of money.

They threw me out.

You know

I can't help you, right?

-That's not it, Joca. -I know.

I know.

We are together.

But everybody is alone.

Take that thing off the wall, Joca.

It's over.

MISSING

LAST SEEN IN VITÓRIA ON JANUARY 5TH

If this makes you sick,

we'll have to go to the hospital and our night is over.

Muriel, my dad is small, I think it'll fit you.

Try it on.

-I'll go to the bathroom then. -Don't be silly!

Is Ramon really gonna be there?

Well, Mu, he invited us.

I don't know, that kid is so unpredictable.

Do I look too old?

Any outfit will make you look old.

That's the point.

This is the one!

It's Muriel, mom. We just got here.

I just came by to pick up some clothes.

Aunt Maura is coming after work, and we'll go straight to Muriel's home.

A scarf in this hot Vitória winter?

My uncle sent it from France.

It doesn't go with any of my clothes.

Suzano, why are you calling me at work?

-You never do this. -Maurinha...

Did something happen?

No, Maurinha, everything's fine.

I just miss you. And the time difference.

I'm always so busy.

I had a little time off and thought, "Why not call?"

Sure, I'm glad you did! How are you?

Easy! I called, I ask the questions.

I want to know about Muriel.

He seemed a bit down the last time he wrote me.

He's fine. It's school stuff, but it'll blow over.

-Are they beating him? -No, nothing like that.

Freshman year is hard.

But that was four months ago.

Letters take a while to arrive here.

He still owes me a reply, though.

-How about you? How's work? -Good, everyone's good.

Now tell me about you. Are you home? Where are you calling from?

No, I'm using a payphone.

It's cheaper than calling from home.

Suzano, I still don't get why you left without a notice.

I just don't get it. Wasn't it supposed to be different this time?

Don't! We've talked this out already.

It's expensive to call you, and you sound like a broken record.

Give me your number, and I'll call you then.

You're poorer than me, Maura.

-Where's your husband? Put him on. -Stop it!

Adrian is at the university, okay?

Are you enrolled again?

Yes, Maurinha, it's all good.

I'll leave you my diploma so can hang it on the wall.

Hand you.

I'll hand you my diploma.

Suzano, give me your number, please.

Suzano?

-Is something wrong? -I just miss you.

I miss you and my nephew.

You should appreciate Muriel, okay?

I'd love to...

I'd love to get a do-over and do exactly like him:

be a good son to mom and dad, the way Muriel is to you.

You were a good son.

You are a good brother, a good uncle.

No, it's different.

I knew better when you had to raise me.

Mom and dad got the worst of me.

You were 14 years old! 12, 13, 14.

Just a kid. We're all like that.

I owe you everything, Maura.

I thank you for everything.

And Muriel will grow old to tell you the same.

Muriel will grow old...

Can you believe that?

Well, so will you!

Everybody grows old.

Maura, I'm out of tokens! We're getting disconnected.

I love you, I love you...

Hey, kid! Long time no see!

-How is it in there, Georgette? -Go on and see for yourself.

We're a hit. Can you believe it?

Be happy, darling. You're home.

-What happened? -Don't touch me!

Don't touch me.

What are you doing here?

I came to see you, kid.

Muriel...

Muriel...

I need to go to a hospital, okay?

-Mom is working the night shift. -No...

No...

We won't make it in time.

Mom?

Tell me, son.

You can tell me.

We didn't make it in time.

Listen to me.

Who checked you in?

Muriel?

Speak up.

Mom...

they're all gone.

Nobody came to talk to you?

There was a bunch of people here.

Doctor, nurse...

the lady that checked us in.

They're all gone.

No one came back?

No? I'll handle it, okay?

Did you come to work? I wasn't told about a new nurse.

Good evening, I'm Maura. It's my brother in there.

-What's your name? -I know nothing, lady.

-Maura. What's your name? -Norma. Norma...

Norma, I'm a nurse too, you see?

Help me.

You've been a nurse longer than me, right?

-Since 1954. -That's 30 years.

So, you know you are doing things wrong.

This has never happened, it's the first time.

With your experience and mine, we can sort this out.

Tell me everything that happened.

The young man arrived dead. There was nothing we could do.

Who was on call?

The doctor spent five minutes with him in there.

Nobody had a clue.

Then he called another doctor, I guess, and...

left.

Where did he go?

Where did he go?

It's okay, son.

It's okay!

Norma, speak up.

He told us to isolate the room, but we couldn't.

Norma, could you take me to this room, please?

It's locked up.

The doctor took the key.

-Don't you understand? -I don't.

It's dangerous!

-When will he return? -He won't.

Now Dr. César will arrive at 5 a.m.

He's locked up in there!

Maura, I heard you’re a professional colleague.

I am.

You can see how things are here.

We have nothing, we are not prepared for anything in this health center.

We are four doctors caring for...

a population of 30,000 people.

Just tell me whatever you have to say.

I can’t sign Suzano’s death certificate the way Dr. Machado filled it.

He didn’t have the courage to touch your brother to examine him.

Why?

I know very little about this.

I can’t confirm it

without an autopsy of your brother's body.

Do you think it’s...

I do.

Please, understand me, I can’t sign it.

If I sign it, the news will spread.

We have so little infrastructure here, they’ll shut us down.

-People will have nowhere to go. -I just want my brother’s body.

That's all.

What can you do to help me?

No one will want to bury him, do you understand?

If I give you a paper with the truth, no one will bury your brother.

It could be me in there.

Or my boyfriend.

Someday it will be.

My dear sister,

when you read this letter I’ll be long gone.

I've never liked goodbyes, right?

I remember very well the day I moved,

you made a scene in the airport.

I imagine your sadness is now quieted.

I'm so sorry for that.

You'll find an address for a ranch in this letter.

Would you take my ashes to live there?

Everything you still need to know has an answer at this place.

The ranch now belongs to Muriel.

Don't sell it.

At least not for now.

It's a good place to Muriel grow up, spend his vacations...

And once he's old

and needs to say goodbye to you to study somewhere else,

because that's what happens, sis,

people go away,

then you can sell it.

I chose this place to die alone, you know?

But I didn't have the courage.

I hope he'll be as happy as we were.

Because I was happy, Maura.

I was happy.

You brought him back.

Yes.

Yes, I did.

If I'm standing here,

If this kid is standing here,

it's thanks to Suzano.

-I didn't know... -Now everybody does.

It's all set.

He left everything set.

Shall we bring Suzano inside and rest a little?

He knew it was important to write down everything that happened.

Every symptom, every medication, every side effect.

Weight, measures, everything.

Every day.

All of this was sent by his French boyfriend?

Every 15 days.

Like clockwork.

Did you learn anything from all of this?

A lot.

A lot indeed.

Nothing that could've saved him?

Neither him,

nor I,

nor anyone else.

We're gonna die from this too, Maura.

It's better on the tripod, I swear.

He's all wet since the river scene.

If he catches a cold, my dear,

you take care of him.

Okay.

Do I look pretty?

Your face is off-screen, Suzano. That's what you asked me.

How about now?

-Do I look pretty? -Very.

This is the story of a man obsessed with an image

from his childhood.

Hurry up, I still want to film my story. Please!

What do you wish, sir?

Hello, mister.

My name is Humberto, and I got a letter summoning me.

Is it here?

Who wrote to you?

I got the letter right here.

Wait a second.

-"Rose Pudding presents..." -Pudding, your ass, faggot!

That's not funny.

-And don't look at the camera. -Okay.

"Rose Chandelle Moreau presents:

The Miraculous Sanatorium for Cancerous Fairies,

by Suzano Morais."

Is it here, mister? Is it?

Welcome home, sis!

Wait up!

We'll just keep doing it until you get it right.

I got all the time in the world, my loves. And you?

Get off me! Get off me!

The only spot is on his left foot.

One centimeter.

Coloring is still light.

But it is a sarcoma.

What about the edges?

Regular.

It's nice and round, seems recent.

When did you discover the spot, Humberto?

I'm not sure. I guess...

about a month ago.

Do the math, Rose.

Go back to the city.

-Is it that bad? -No.

This is good news.

Suzano, let me stay.

You have one more year, Humberto.

Go back, wait. Get treatment from a real doctor.

One year.

If nothing goes wrong...

Suzano, let me stay.

Let me stay. I can't handle this alone.

You have your boy Jean.

You're not gonna be alone.

How can I tell him about this, Rose?

How can I tell him and not get abandoned again?

Nobody is abandoning anybody, okay?

You both abandoned people.

And you're here alive.

These are the first pills you'll get here.

Each one of us has the right to two boxes.

There are six in total.

Two boxes are enough to kill yourself.

"Kill yourself"? What do you mean?

You need to live

with this thing Suzano and his gringo created

knowing that it can all go wrong.

We don't know what we have,

we don't know how we got it,

we don't know how to cure it.

We're just trying.

Sometimes it gets tough,

sad.

But sometimes...

it's just unbearable.

Whoever wants to give up has that right.

Here, in these two boxes.

You're the healthiest of us,

so now you're the guardian of the boxes.

Hide them.

If we ask for the boxes, you have to decide whether who wants to die

is aware of what he is doing.

Tell him.

-Go on. -Tell me what?

I woke up here one day not knowing where I was.

I didn't recognize...

this house,

I didn't recognize this woman in front of me.

I looked at Rose

in fear of being outed as an imposter and kicked out.

A whole day.

Unaware of who I was,

of my body,

of my history.

It happens from time to time, you'll see.

It doesn't last long.

-But that time was an entire day. -Yeah.

The next day I woke up,

and everything was back.

But I decided I wanted to die.

Think about it...

A whole day

not knowing this plague was inside me.

But then...

Rose...

she made me realize my blackout was a stroke of luck.

-Right? -Wasn't it?

That I had reason to celebrate.

And she was right.

Thank you.

But...

what if I wanna kill myself?

You won't. I know you.

But if you do,

two boxes are enough.

Okay?

Save the rest for us, please.

For God's sake!

Now go on and hide that.

Okay.

Do you think he can handle it?

Are you done?

Honey, I'm trans.

Look.

Let me see.

-It was loose up here. -I'll deal with that later.

I'm only one.

Let's see.

Let me take your new measurements, you lost a lot of weight.

Look how it is.

It fits two.

Look, Rose...

Faggot!

When cooking, you should clean up as you go along,

got it?

It's easier,

and when you're done, it's all set.

-Isn't it... -Don't make that face, I'm right!

-Isn't it better to clean later? -Welcome to "Cooking..."

-Move over here. -Here?

-Yeah. -"Cooking with Suzano".

Suza...

Quit it!

He's a doll.

-Quit it, Suzano! -Son of a bitch!

Today is the Day of Grace, baby!

"Mon amour..."

Blah blah blah...

Here, here!

"The blue boxes are antibiotics blacklisted here in France,

but they are sold over the counter in Japan."

-Wow! -"A friend brought it.

If any of you are having breathing problems, take only this one.

Instructions are in the box.

There are eight boxes of that same antiviral drug..."

-Cool! -"...which seems to be working.

You'll need to take a blood test

every three days for two weeks and send me the results.

This antiviral drug is the newest hope.

There are also 12 boxes of 'fuck it',

take them however you please."

Fuck it!

-My love! Let's see. -"Fuck it?"

Yeah. Look, here we have some antihistamines,

homeopathic vitamins...

What is this?

Shark fins? Gross!

Show it to the camera.

No one knows if these drugs work,

but they are not bad for you, that's why...

-Fuck it! -Fuck it!

Maybe, who knows?

But, actually, none of these work.

Yeah.

Everything we put in our bodies, Humberto,

is "fuck it".

Fuck it...

So I came here.

There was nowhere else I could go.

I was played out.

You know what played out is?

My youth was suddenly...

gone up the waterspout.

And then I met you.

-I forgot my line. -"Whoever you..."

I got it!

And then I met you.

Whoever you may be,

I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.

-I have my tricks! -Bravo!

-My dear! -You killed it!

Blanche!

-There's a new spot here, Suzano. -Where?

Here.

I don't remember it.

Welcome!

There's a rigid area here.

Do like this, to relieve it.

Sorry, Suzano.

Here.

I'll move to the other side, okay?

Do you think this is a coincidence?

That they'd invent a disease...

And I do think "they" invented it, but anyway.

That they'd invent a disease that only kills whores, faggots,

and junkies by accident?

Boys...

they try to kill us since the dawn of time, it's what they do.

What we do is survive being gorgeous.

And it's all fine.

I know you're scared.

I am too.

But if this is what will kill us, okay! Dead, done!

Others like us will take our place.

You, little Humberto,

hiding in your mommy's closet in rural bumfuck nowhere.

You, little Suzano,

hiding in your Paris dorm bunk bed,

spending away your parents' inheritance.

Now you're here with a 5th grade dropout old whore,

with my tits leaking out and a life story that...

Things you'll never experience.

And thank God you won't.

Thank God we'll die before you become as fucked-up as I am.

Because if this plague is gay,

its mother is a trans woman.

We're stuck in this house,

wiping each other's ass when we can't get out of bed,

holding each other's hair when we vomit because the medicine makes us sicker.

Making each other laugh and cry, drinking our butts off,

and spooning each other to sleep because we miss the warmth.

Do you really think

they can kill this thing right here?

They can't kill it.

They won't kill it!

Stop filming.

So?

He died.

Adrian died during the night.

Our little adventure here is over.

I'm so sorry, my love.

We were ready.

He knew it would happen.

So did you.

There's a package waiting for us at the post office.

Today is the Day of Grace.

Let's pick it up.

Then we figure out what to do.

One last time?

It'll cheer you up.

What do you think?

A whole life

trying to look more mature,

trying to look more responsible, trying to look older...

to end up like this?

Being treated as a child.

No!

It's useless.

Everything here is useless.

Everything here is useless.

Why did we think this was gonna work?

How stupid!

My God, how stupid!

I could be dying in a hospital now. No fighting, no pain.

Someone could've just written "pneumonia" on my death certificate.

Simple!

Done!

What do you think is gonna happen now?

What's gonna happen?

Didn't you read Adrian's last letters?

There are 3,000 like us already, Rose.

If not even in fucking France they know what's up,

guess what'll happen here, love?

Do you think a nurse is gonna kiss your forehead goodnight? No.

Do you think his mom will hug him when she visits him at the hospital?

Do you think Jean is gonna put his tongue in your mouth

in a lovely wet kiss? No.

No!

He'll be disgusted.

He'll be afraid of all your fluids.

What about you, Rose?

Do you think your name will be in the papers? It will.

It will.

Your male name!

Or they're just gonna go with...

"unidentified victim". And be happy with it.

Is that what you need?

That people know your name and mine?

I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

I shouldn't have brought up Jean.

I need to call him, Suzano. I need to call him...

Of course!

Sure. Call him.

I can't tell you why we're isolated here.

I can't tell you.

What difference did this make?

What difference...

Tell me, Rose,

what difference did this make?

Tell me,

what can I do to take this...

out of you?

Tell me.

Lie to me.

The package we're picking up today has a new antiviral drug.

Something Russian, East European...

Really obscure.

We take it, and it works.

It lasts for the time we need: three months.

Some American comes up with a vaccine.

In three months, the clinical trials begin and we'll participate!

In six months, our T4 cells are up to 200,

we start gaining weight.

In a year,

there will be no trace of the plague left in you, in me or anyone.

-Nothing? -Nothing.

Two years from now,

no one will even remember this plague ever happened.

Are you ok?

It's too late for this.

I'm going away tonight.

You'll be fine.

I woke up yesterday with the odd feeling that AIDS could be a wonderful disease.

Now I can see something truly fascinating in this barbarity.

It's still an inescapable disease, you know?

But it's not fulminant.

It's a disease that has stages.

A very tall ladder that leads to certain death,

but each step offers an amazing learning.

It's a disease that gives us time to die,

and gives death time to live.

The time to discover time.

And to discover life.

Think about it...

It's a genius modern invention.

If life is the foreboding of death,

that tortures us every day with the uncertainty of its arrival,

AIDS establishes a given limit.

This makes us fully conscious of our lives.

It frees us from ignorance.

We'll die knowing all that we could learn.

FOUR MONTHS LATER

DAWN OF JANUARY 1ST, 1984

The telephone woke me up.

Is everything okay?

My mom called from the hospital.

Humberto is okay, it was just a scare.

It's not pneumonia, but he'll stay under observation till tomorrow.

That's good. Because it was ugly.

I guess he just drank more than he should.

They didn't drop the party

and drove for two hours just because of booze, Muriel.

Did Kamila go to bed?

Everyone did.

Let's drink what's left then.

Are you okay watching those tapes?

That stuff from your uncle.

Someone has to see that, man.

Shall we light this shit up?

I don't need to be convinced.

THE FIRST FALLEN