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I came to Comala
because I was told my father lived here.

A man named Pedro Páramo.

It was my mother's wish.

And I promised her I would come.

She was about to die,
so I would have promised her anything.

Before she left, she told me,

"Don't ask him for anything."

"Just demand what's ours."

"Make him pay dearly
for the way he neglected us."

I didn't intend to fulfill my promise

until I began daydreaming about it.

Then, my fantasies began to take flight.

And in my mind,

a new world started taking shape
around the hope of this man.

My mother's husband.

Do you mind if I ask you
why you're going to Comala?

I'm going to see my father.

Mm.

Well, he might just throw you a party.

At this point,
he'll be thrilled to see anyone.

Uh…

What's your dad look like? Describe him.

I don't know who he is.

I just know his name is Pedro Páramo.

Mm.

All right.

So do you know Pedro Páramo?

And…?

He's a walking grudge.

Come on!

It's hot out here.

Yeah.

This is nothing though.

Just you wait. It'll get even worse
when we get to Comala.

In fact, whenever

a person loses their life in Comala,

once they get to hell,
they come back for their coat.

You know, I'm also
the son of Pedro Páramo.

Are you sure that's really Comala?

Sure as the day is long.

It's very depressing.

Well, these are hard times, mister.

It looks abandoned.

It doesn't look abandoned.

It is.

Nobody lives here.

And Pedro Páramo?

Pedro Páramo passed away a long time ago.

- So where can I find a place to stay?
- Move it.

Look for Doña Eduviges.

She's still alive.

You can tell her I sent you.

And what's your name, sir?

Abundio Martínez.

I can't help but see everything
in this place through my mother's eyes.

She told me,

"You'll find my little town there,

raised high above the plains,

surrounded by vivid greenery."

"You'll hear me better there."

"I'll be closer to you there."

It would have been nice to tell her,

"You sent me to the wrong address."

"You sent me to some kind of ghost town

to look for someone who doesn't exist."

Excuse me.

You know where I can find Mrs. Eduviges?

Over there.

In the house with the arches.
It's painted pink.

I'm Eduviges Dyada.

Please come in.

This way.

What is all this stuff?

Just knick-knacks.

I've got tons of them all over the house.

Those who left town
chose my house to store their stuff,

and no one has returned for any of it.

I'm sure you're her son, then, aren't you?

Whose son?

Oh, Doloritas'.

Yes. How did you know who I am?

She told me you were on your way.

That you would visit.

Who? My mother?

Yes.

Doloritas.

This is your room.

Just in case someone stops by,
I always keep it clean.

I don't see anywhere to lay down.

No. I wouldn't worry
too much about that.

The floor is a great bed
if you're really tired.

It's not easy to organize
at the drop of a hat.

And your mother didn't warn me
until just now.

My mother passed.

Oh.

So that's why her voice sounded weak.

I understand now.

How long has it been since she died?

As of tonight, seven days.

She might have felt abandoned.

The two of us promised
we'd pass away side by side

so we could comfort each other
on the final journey.

I suppose I'm just a little slower, huh?

Try not to worry though. I'll reach her.

I know lots of shortcuts on that road.

All you have to do is

die when you want to

and not when he demands it.

Come and eat something downstairs.

- A little snack.
- I'll get it.

In a minute.

What are you doing
sitting on the toilet by yourself?

Oh, nothing, Mother.

Stay in there much longer,

a snake might find its way in
and bite you.

Let out more string, Susana!

Good.

- No, no, no!
- No, no.

I love it because of you.

But I hate everything else about it.

I really hate that I was born here.

I'll visit when I can, all right?

No, I doubt it.

You won't come back here.

I told you
to get out of the outhouse.

I'm coming, Mother.

I'm coming.

You're being lazy and morose.
Your dad's right about you.

We can't count on you for anything.

Wait a minute.
Don't you have some work to do?

No. Rogelio doesn't pay me anything.

It's not about the money. That's not
the reason why you work for Rogelio.

You're supposed to be learning.

You better learn
to resign yourself to that fact.

I don't think I can do that, Grandma.

I can't resign myself to anything.

You and your peculiar attitudes.

I think you have some bad luck coming,
Pedro Páramo.

I thought that woman
was thoroughly insane.

Then, I didn't believe anything.

I felt I was in some distant world.

And I let her guide me on.

Well, yeah.

I almost wound up being your mother.

She never told you about this?

No.

She only told me good stories.

I knew about you because of the drover
who brought me here.

This guy Abundio.

Abundio is a good man.

I used to tip him for every traveler
he sent to stay at my house.

But he went deaf, you know?

The guy I'm talking about could hear well.

Well,

back to your dear mother.

The thing is,
when she was about to marry Pedro Páramo,

a fortune teller told her not to go to bed
with any man during her lunar troubles.

- Because it was her time of the month.
- Ah.

So, naturally,
she asked me to take her place that night.

So you slept with Pedro Páramo?

To me, getting in his bed was very easy.

But all the activity the day before

had left him totally exhausted,
and he spent the whole night snoring.

Then you got here the year after.

But you weren't mine.

Although you almost were, trust me.

I think your mother
didn't wanna tell you that

because she was ashamed.

I have a photograph of her.

Your mother absolutely hated Pedro Páramo.

All he ever did was complain
and bark orders at her all day.

And even when she got used to it,

her mild little eyes
would harden with rage.

That's when she started sighing.

It got worse,

and Pedro Páramo
sent her to live with her sister.

I remember we lived in Colima.

Months went by, and I asked Pedro Páramo
because I was worried about her.

I'd ask, "What are they
supposed to do for money?"

He'd just say,
"I guess that's in God's hands."

"I guess that's in God's hands."

When will you finally rest?

Wake up!

Why are you crying, Mother?

Your father has passed away.

Your father has been killed.

And… and who killed you, Mother?

When will you
finally rest?

You all right, Mrs. Eduviges?

That horse belonged to Miguel Páramo.

You hear it galloping by
on the path to the Media Luna?

So someone lives in the Media Luna?

No. No, no, I swear, no one lives there.

I don't get it.

I'm not hearing a horse galloping.

- You don't?
- No.

Well, it could just be
my sixth sense, then.

I have a gift from God.

Or, who knows,
maybe it's a curse.

Who is Miguel Páramo?

The son of Pedro Páramo.

Another son?

The only one he acknowledged.

Actually, he spent a few nights
sleeping at my house.

Until he met a girl who lived in Contla.

He spent a lot of nights
visiting her there.

It was always after midnight
when he returned.

But that night, he never returned.

His horse hadn't even passed by yet

when I heard someone
knocking at the window.

Who knows?
It might have been my imagination.

What happened?

Did your lover spurn you?

No.

It's not that.

I just lost my way getting back here.

What do you mean?

There was so much fog or smoke.

No, it was smoke.

Or I don't know. But what I do know

is that Contla doesn't exist.

I wanted to tell you because

you won't dismiss it.

I mean, if I told anyone else in Comala,

they'd say I was a lunatic.

Same old, same old.

No.

Miguel, you're not mad.

You must have passed on.

They always told you
that horse would kill you some day.

I know, but all I did was jump
over that stone fence my father built

so I wouldn't have to go around.

And there was so much smoke.

Please leave.

Please leave and rest in peace, darling.

Thank you for coming to say goodbye to me.

Amen.

Let us give thanks.

Father,
will you bless him, please?

No. I won't do it.

Miguel was immoral.

He will never enter heaven's kingdom.

And God will take it as a sin
if I intercede for him.

You know who was laid to rest today?

Yes, Tío.

And you're sure it was that man,
beyond a doubt?

Not really, no.

It was pitch-dark.

I couldn't see his face
when he grabbed me.

Well, then,

how can you be sure it was Miguel Páramo?

He told me he was.

First he introduced himself,
and then he told me to be calm.

But… you must know that he was responsible
for your father's murder?

Yes, I do.

Then how…

Did you scare him off? What did you do?

Nothing.

He told me he came to apologize to me.

Then I thought
about what you always taught me.

That you should never hate anyone.

Then, suddenly, he was on top of me.

That was when he started
doing bad things to my body.

I thought he might murder me.

Now I just hope he's burning in the depths
of hell. I want him to suffer forever.

Because that's what I prayed for
to the saints, you know?

Well, I wouldn't be so sure
he's there yet, my dear.

God knows how many of those folks
have decided to pray for him now.

And besides,

I gave the rites of absolution.

I'm sorry, what, Tío?

We must thank the Lord for taking
his soul away from this cruel world

where he caused so much pain.

It doesn't matter if he's in heaven now.

Our Father,

who art in heaven,

hallowed be

thy name.

Excuse me, Father Rentería.

What can I do for you?

My sister passed on.

Oh, I'm sorry. How?

Oh, my poor sister! She took her own life.

What do you want me to do, María?

Please, I beg you
to save her soul.

But she ended her life by suicide.

You must know
she disobeyed the will of the Lord.

She was overcome at the last minute.

She gave so much to the church
to attain her own salvation

and to waste it all so rashly…

No, Father, there's still hope for her.

Before she died, she was drowning in blood
and pleading to God.

So much horror and agony.

So much pain.

You delivered a sermon about pain.
I just can't recall what you said.

There's a chance for redemption.

Maybe with a Gregorian mass, but we…

We'd need to ask for help,
to bring other priests and such.

And that can get costly.

You know I don't have anything.

It's the truth, Father.

Then let's just put that aside for now.

We'll pray to the Lord.

Uh…

Yes, Father.

♪ Hail Mary ♪

♪ Save her soul ♪

♪ From purgatory ♪

♪ With your forgiveness ♪

♪ The light of the candle ♪

♪ Grants eternal rest ♪

Have you ever heard
the groan of a soul?

No.

It's better that way.

Mrs. Eduviges?

Mrs. Eduviges?

Mrs. Eduviges?

Are you still down here?

No!

Let me go, please!

Hello, Mrs. Eduviges?

I'm not Eduviges.

My name is Damiana.

I knew you were here,

and I came to find you.

Damiana Cisneros?

Did you have a place on the Media Luna?

Yes, that's my home.

So the journey took me a while.

My mother told me
that a Damiana was my babysitter.

I knew you since the first time
you opened your eyes, Juan Preciado.

I'm coming with you.
I don't know what's going on here.

Something very strange is going on.

I was about to tell you that,

just a minute before I met you,

in that room up there,

I heard someone screaming.

Like he might have been dying.

It might be
an echo from the past, you know?

And I can tell you

that a man named Toribio Aldrete
was hung in that room.

It's true. They bolted the door
until his skin dried out.

How'd you even manage to get in there?

There's no key to open that lock.

Mm.

You?

Oh God, not again.

You boys looking for love tonight?

No one could ever deny
your bravery, Don Fulgor.

I know you're a real man.

And that's because of your merit,
not the power behind you.

But as for this paper,

we're gonna be wiping our asses with it.

Because it's not good
for anything else.

And now that I know what it's all about,

I think it's funny.

It reads,

"Toribio Aldrete, the landowner concerned,

has trespassed the limits
of his rightful property

and has falsified the property lines

to infringe on land
legally designated to the Media Luna,

the property of Don Pedro Páramo."

Isn't that hilarious? Doesn't that
make you wanna laugh, Don Fulgor?

Mmm.

Yeah, right. Usufruct.

They're actually gonna
accuse me of usufruct.

You know, your boss ought to be
downright ashamed of his ignorance.

Eduviges.

Mind if I use the room upstairs?

Of course you can, Don Fulgor.

Just you? Or do you need more beds?

No.

Just one.

Don't worry about us, okay?
You just go get some sleep.

Leave the key if you don't mind.

Take a seat, Fulgor.
This is a safe place to talk.

Well, why don't you sit?

- I'd rather be on my feet, Pedro.
- Okay.

Go right ahead.
Don't forget to call me "Don."

So how's that going?

- How's what?
- You know what. The Media Luna.

Oh, that's bad.

Nothing left of it.

The animals have all been sold now.

Listen, I won't go into detail
because, I mean, you're not well-versed.

Or at least
I never saw you around or anything.

As of today, we owe--

Hold on. Who do we owe?

It doesn't matter how much. Just who.

Our biggest amount
is owed back to the Preciado women.

Then, it's the Fregosos.

And then the Guzmans.

There isn't enough money to pay.
That's the issue.

But why?

Well, because your family
ate it all up.

They borrowed and borrowed
and didn't pay it back.

I kept on telling your late mother,
God rest her,

"If you're not careful,
you'll squander your money, all of it."

And that's exactly what happened.

But luckily, I think I found someone
who will purchase your land.

They'll pay well.

- It's not you, is it?
- Come on, you don't think that of me?

Oh, I don't even trust
my own shadow, Fulgor.

Very well.

Tomorrow, we'll officially
sort all of this out.

First, we'll stop by the Preciados.

- Didn't you say we owe them the most?
- Yeah.

I think one of those ladies
decided to go live in the city, in Colima.

So, I think Lola,

or, uh, Lady Dolores,

owns the Enmedio Ranch outright
at this point,

so she's the one we have to pay.

Then, tomorrow,
you're gonna propose to Lola.

She won't be interested in me.
I'm too old.

No.

You'll be asking on my behalf.

Mm. Besides, she's charming, isn't she?

Tell her I'm madly in love with her.

- Do it first thing tomorrow.
- All right.

While you're at it, ask Father Rentería
to fix the deal for us.

- How much cash do you have?
- Me? I've got nothing, Don Pedro.

Promise it to him.
Tell him we'll pay as soon as we have it.

Don't you wanna sit down?

Sure, I'll sit, Don Pedro, because I'm
really starting to like working with you.

You have to tell Lola I adore her.

- That's very important.
- Right.

Because it's true, Sedano. I love her.

It was her eyes. Hear me?

Of course, yeah.

Her eyes.

Please forgive me
for blushing, Don Fulgor.

Hm.

But

I never thought
Don Pedro would be interested in me.

He's up all night.
He can't stop thinking about you.

But he could have anyone he wants.

There are lots of beautiful women
in Comala.

What will they say
when they hear about us?

He's a very private,
reserved man.

Don Lucas Páramo, God rest his soul,

told Pedro
that you weren't good enough for him.

So he kept his love secret
out of obedience.

Now that his parents are dead and gone,

well, nothing will stand in his way.

As for a wedding date, how about

the day after tomorrow? How's that?

Well, that's a bit rushed.

Here, sir.

I have nothing prepared.

I'd have to order the trousseau
and write to my sister.

No.

No, I can't do this until, uh,

4th April.

Just tell him to give me a little time.

He'd like to have the ceremony
as soon as possible.

Don't worry about the trousseau.
We'll get you anything you need.

As it happens, Pedro's late mother

would have preferred
you wear her gown, trust me.

It's a family tradition. An heirloom.

But there's something else
happening to me lately.

It's a woman's issue, I'm sorry to say.

I'm quite ashamed
to tell you this, Don Fulgor.

It's my time of the month.

I'm mortified.

Who cares?

Marriage is not really
about the position of the moon or the sun.

All it takes is love.

But I think
you're misunderstanding, Don Fulgor.

I do understand.

The ceremony is the day after tomorrow.

Oh, don't forget to give the judge
a manifest of communal assets. Hmm?

Marriage is communal.

Yes, Don Fulgor.

Excuse me.

Boil a kettle of water, Damiana.

Yes, ma'am.

I'll try to get it out
of my system sooner.

I could even bring it on tonight.

Now that I think about it,
it'll probably still last three days.

Thank you. Thank you, Lord,
for bringing me my Don Pedro.

Even if he despises me later.

Hey, easy. Whoa!

What's the word, Don Fulgor?
Will he sell the Media Luna?

Should we look for another place to work?

Ha! You don't even know what work is.

But you'll learn before long,
don't worry about that.

- Don Fulgor, can I assume you're staying?
- Here, let's take him in.

You said Pedro
was something of a ne'er-do-well.

Well, that's what my boss
used to say anyway. Don Lucas.

That he absolutely refused to work
even once he grew up.

"I'm ashamed my boy is worthless,"
he'd say.

Oh, from now on,
we call him Don Pedro, okay?

I asked for her hand. She's thrilled.

Mm.

The priest wants 60 pesos
to turn a blind eye to the marriage banns.

I told him that soon he'll get the money.

Didn't you ask Dolores
for something in advance?

No, boss, I didn't.

I was afraid.

It's the truth.

Ah, Fulgor, you're like a child.

She was so happy, I didn't have the heart.

All right.

Next week, I want you
to have a chat with Aldrete.

Tell him he has to move his fences.
They're over the Media Luna property line.

Well, his measurements are correct, boss.
I checked them myself.

Tell him he's wrong.
Tell him they were inaccurate.

Hell, remove the fences if you have to.

What about the law?

What law, Fulgor?

We're gonna write the laws from now on.

So go file a complaint against Aldrete,

and say it's for usufruct
or whatever you can think of.

Tell him there's no more Lucas Páramo.
I'm the one he has to deal with now.

- Yes, boss.
- Okay.

- May I be excused?
- Go on.

Usufruct. Oh God.

Everyone knows you're an honorable man.
No one can deny that, Don Fulgor.

The truth is, I'm just fucking fed up
with your boss's son,

that annoying little shitheel.

What? Wait. Wait. Hang on.
What are you doing?

You just need to rest, mister.

Well, I still have yet to see the day
that tequila knocks me on my ass.

Go ahead, Toribio.

Usufruct.

Uh, Don Fulgor,
I don't mean to offend you, but I…

I prefer to sleep at home
so… so my wife doesn't worry about me.

A-And, well, I'd hate to trouble you.

Oh, it's no trouble at all, Don Toribio.

Inside. Go on.

Wait! Wh-What are you going to do?

Let me go!

Let me go, please!

Please, I just want
to say goodbye to my wife!

- Stay still!
- Come on, let me go, please!

Please have mercy, Don Fulgor!

Don Fulgor!

No!

No!

Don Rubén,
I'm so glad you came, my friend.

- It's a pleasure, Don Pedro. Thank you.
- Excuse me.

- Enjoy, sir!
- Ma'am.

- Cheers, Don Pedro.
- Boys, how are you? Enjoying yourselves?

- We are.
- Very much, sir.

All right, excuse me.

Gentlemen.

Cheers, Don Pedro.

Me and the boys
wanted to offer our congratulations.

Thank you, Fulgor. Gents.

Ah.

Did you take care of Toribio Aldrete?

That job's all taken care of, boss.

We still have the Fregosos
and have to deal with that other thing.

What's that, Don Pedro?

Find the man who killed my father.

But that can wait for now.

I'm about to be very busy
with my honeymoon.

Well, time to go, gentlemen.

- If you'll excuse me, boss.
- Go ahead, Fulgor.

- Pedro, congratulations, friend.
- Ah, Counselor.

I'm happy for you.

- Can I take your plate?
- No.

- Did you like it, Father?
- Mm.

Yes, it was all delicious.

Dorotea.

Take this.

Thank you. The Almighty
will reward you for this, Damiana.

When you're done,
leave through the back.

Excuse me.

Can we talk?

Huh? One minute.

What is it?

- I need you to take my place tonight.
- What?

He's already drunk. He won't notice.

What on earth are you thinking, Lola?

Don Pedro would notice
before we even touched.

Look, I'm older than you,
and my skin is lighter.

In the dark, no one would ever know.

No, we can't.

Dolores, you have to do it.

It's still my time of the month though.

Do this for me, okay?
I'll repay you, I swear.

Just take my place tonight.

Come on, you're my best friend.

No! Are you crazy? I can't.

This whole town
is filled with echoes.

There was a time when, for many nights,

I could hear the murmurs of a celebration.

The noise could be heard
from the Media Luna.

I went looking for a band or party guests,

but I just saw this.

Exactly what we're seeing now.

The streets were just as dark and empty.

Now, I'm not afraid.

But I have a feeling that, eventually,

these echoes will fade away.

If they're echoes,

they had to come from someone, right?

Well, you'll see.

It's like they are coming from the cracks
or from under the stones.

This building here was the Páramos' house

since your grandparents
moved here to Comala.

Although Don Pedro wound up
living most of his life in the Media Luna.

I did too.

I was the head housemaid
of all his domestic servants.

Only because I had self-respect.

I was the only servant
who never slept with him.

Are you going to the Media Luna?

You'll have
a place to rest there.

You can't imagine the number of lost souls
who wander these streets.

The tormented souls
of those who died without repenting,

walking these corridors forever.

Most met their end when Pedro Páramo was
determined to avenge his father's death.

He killed many?

Yes.

Did my mother tell you I was coming here?

No.

Speaking of which,

how is your mother?

She died.

I figured you would have known.

You expect me to know about that?

It's been a while
since I've heard about anything.

Then how were you able to find me?

Damiana, are you alive?

Damiana!

Damiana Cisneros!

Damiana!

Here, Damiana.

That was a big sigh, Doloritas.

I'd love to be a bird
so I could fly to be with my sister.

Oh, of course you can, my dear Doloritas.

You'll be paying her a visit
in no time at all.

Let's head back.

Time to pack her bags, okay?

Anything you want, my dear.

My mother
was always yearning for Comala.

To go back there.

Most people would be happy
to spend an eternity there.

Isn't that Filoteo Aréchiga?

It's him.
Pretend you don't see him.

- Do you think he's following us?
- I hope not.

Rumor has it he's the one they put in
charge of bringing women in for Don Pedro.

- Really?
- Get inside, hurry.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

I… I just happened to be passing by.
I swear to God!

Eh, listen to me.
Don Pedro never wanted me dead.

He just wanted to find out if I was at
the wedding where his father got killed.

He's questioning the guests.
All of them.

He just wanted to scare me.

No.

There's room for me in heaven.

What are you doing here?

Are you dead or alive?

I think he's drunk.

No, I'm sure he's just scared.

Why don't you come in?

Are you feeling all right?

Look, I just want
to find my way back home.

You'd better wait till tomorrow.

Almost all the roads
are covered with weeds.

You might lose your way.

Better let me take you tomorrow.

Who could he be?

And how did he get here?

Do you think he's lost?

Why don't you just go to sleep, all right?

Please, I need some rest.

Look at him.

Moving around and shivering.

Like some fiend in hell.

I can tell he's someone
who's intimate with death.

It's orange blossom water.

It'll calm you down.

Don't worry about me.

Can you help me get out of here?

Where are you going?

Wherever I can go.

There are many roads in Comala.

Is your husband coming back?

He's my brother.

Not my husband.

He won't acknowledge it.

In part because I frighten people.

Look closely.

Look at my face.

What is it you want me to see?

You mean you don't see my sins?

See the little spots, like impetigo?

And that's only my outside.

Inside, I'm just mud and sorrow.

If you don't mind…

I'd like to sleep more.

He won't be back.

What did you say?

I saw it in his eyes.

He was hoping for someone to come
so he could leave.

And now you'll have to take care of me.

What is it?

Don't you wanna take care of me?

Why don't you sleep next to me?

No, I'm fine here.

You'll be more comfortable. Come on.

The ticks might devour you down there.

No.

That was unforgivable.

What about
all the women he raped?

Now we have to wait
for him to die.

Do you really expect me
to believe you drowned, Juan Preciado?

When I found you, you were already stiff,

tense, and rigid,
like a person who died of fright.

It's true, Dorotea.

It was the murmurs that killed me.

I tried to hold back my fear.

That's when my soul turned to ice.

You hear that?

The sound of rain outside.

Can't you feel
the drops falling from above?

It feels like
someone is walking on top of us.

Careful
with your thoughts, Juan,

because you and I will be buried here
for a long time.

Ah!

Come on, keep on falling.

Cry until your tears run dry.

Hey, don't let them
get out that far!

There's more that way.

- Head them off.
- Come on, let's go. Move it.

Hey there, sonny.
Where are you coming from so early?

I was just milking.

Ha! Milking who?

You'll never guess.

Hmm, could it be

Dorotea, the little invalid, no?

She's the only woman I know
who likes babies.

You're a son of a bitch, Fulgor.

Margarita.

So where have you been, Miguel?

Been around.

I was visiting mothers.

Do you

know a lady called Dorotea,
nicknamed "the invalid"?

She's outside if you want to see her.

She wakes up early every day
and waits there for her breakfast.

The woman's dirt poor.
She has to live off scraps.

You dirty old man.

Dorotea!

Come over here.
I have a proposition for you.

Come on.

All right now,
let's have those wonderful eggs.

From now on, I want you to give Dorotea
the same food you're giving me.

I don't care how stingy you are. Do it.

Fulgor!

- Oh, sorry, boss.
- How are we doing?

We moved a lot of Enmedio's cattle
out past what used to be Fregoso's lot,

then shifted Fregoso's
out to the upper hills of Vilmayo.

All right.

So? What's wrong, Fulgor?

Someone showed up here and started
accusing your son Miguel of killing a man.

It's really not his fault.

Whatever he did, you can blame it on me.

Miguel will keep giving you
plenty of headaches, boss.

- He likes trouble, you know?
- Ah, leave him alone.

Man, he's basically still a child.

How old is the boy?

He's, like, 17, isn't he Fulgor?

- Yeah, about that age.
- Uh-huh.

But he can be so violent,
and he's so goddamn reckless.

It almost feels like the kid's determined
to race against time.

He's gonna end up losing, boss.
You'll see.

Look, he's just a child, Fulgor.

Fair enough. You're not wrong, boss.

But the lady who came here accusing
your son of murdering her beloved husband

was very upset, mad as a hornet.

What was her name?

I didn't know who she was.

Then don't worry about it, Fulgor.

Those people don't exist.

Just take it easy. Let it blow over.

All right.

Excuse me, boss.

My mother always told me
about the green plains and the fat clouds.

But she couldn't even come here to die.

Even for that, she sent me in her place.

It's so strange, Dorotea.

But I never got the chance to see heaven.

I lost all interest in heaven

since Father Rentería told me

I would never get to behold
the glory of God.

It was because of my sins.

But I still think
he shouldn't have told me.

When a sacred door
closes on you,

and the only road left
is the one that leads to hell,

you're better off not being born.

All they told me was Mrs. Susana
and her father left Mascota.

And where did they go?

I've been up and down the sierra,
looking all over.

I heard they went this way, then that way.

I just can't find them, Don Pedro.

You better go and find them at any cost.

- I don't care if the earth swallowed them.
- I'm on it, Don Pedro.

Okay, turn him, yeah.
Keep going. Careful.

What'd they do to him?

No one did anything.

Death found him, that's all.

The horse killed him, Don Pedro.

Keep him calm.

I'm starting to pay.

Better to pay up now
than to be in debt forever.

Send someone to put that animal
out of its misery as soon as you can.

Of course, Don Pedro.

Don Pedro.

The priest, Rentería, is here to see you.

Right now?

Let him in.

Father, come in.

Hello. I'm sorry to disturb you.

Don Pedro, they told me
his mother didn't survive labor

and that the baby was yours.

Here he is.

Why don't you keep it?

Turn him into a priest.

Given this child's bloodline, I don't…

I don't think I want that responsibility.

So you think I have bad blood?

To be honest, yes, Don Pedro.

Mm.

I better prove you wrong, then.

Just leave it here.

- Lots of folks around to take care of it.
- I assumed you'd say that.

I suppose with you,
at the very least, he'll have food.

Hm. Damiana!

Take care of this thing, will you?
He's my son.

To the deceased and to you.

Let's drink.

And to your son.

Oh, let's drink to him too. Why not?

Here you go.

Sh!

Sh!

Oh Lord, grant his soul eternal rest,

and may he be anointed
with your eternal light.

Have mercy on your servant, my Lord.

I know that you hated him, Father.

With good reason.

I know he killed your dear brother

and what he did to your niece, Ana.

But I urge you to forget that.

Offer him grace and forgive him,
as God would.

I'd like to give you this
as a contribution to the church.

The Almighty decides
if a debt is paid in full.

For my sake, censure him, oh Lord.

- Hail Mary most pure.
- Conceived without sin.

Go ahead, tell me your sins, child.

Please forgive me.
Yesterday, I slept with Pedro Páramo.

Go on, please.

I'm going to bear the child
of Pedro Páramo.

I gave my daughter to Pedro Páramo.

And may the evil of your transgressions
make you suffer.

And let your repentance make you worthy
of the mercy of Almighty God.

Hail Mary, most pure.

Conceived without sin.

Wait. Have you been drinking?

Now that I can't hurt the boy

or slander his reputation with the Lord,

I'll tell you.

I was in charge
of getting all the women for

young Miguelito Páramo.

May he rest in peace.

You brought them to his house?

Sometimes, yes.

Though sometimes
I'd speak to them about him.

Or I would tell him
when they were gonna be alone,

and he would grab them by surprise.

Father?

Psst.

Father, hello?

Aren't you going to give me
a penance or something?

Well, and what should I do with you,
Dorotea?

I think you must search deep within
yourself if you hope to be absolved.

Huh.

Have mercy, Father.

I can't forgive myself.

You'd like to be sent to heaven
when you die,

and you've come here many times
asking me to support you.

'Cause you want to see if that's where
you might find your boy, right, Dorotea?

There can't be

a place in heaven for someone like you.

May the Lord have mercy on you.

Her eyelashes are motionless now.
As still as her vacant heart.

Was it you
who said all that, Dorotea?

Are they still scaring you?

There's only one dead thing
here, after all.

I heard someone talking.

- A woman's voice.

I thought it was you.

It must be
the one who talks to herself.

The one who's buried in the big tomb.

- Mrs. Susana.
- Her eyelashes never moved again.

She's interred
right next to us, you know.

When the dead are buried a long time,
the moisture slowly seeps into them.

They start moving around,
and they wake up.

So who is she?

She was
Pedro Páramo's last wife.

Everyone said she was insane.

What is she saying?

She just complains.

Maybe he made her suffer.

No, I don't think so.
He loved her.

I dare say he never loved anyone
as much as he loved her.

No, no, you definitely lost.

Now I remember
her mother died of consumption.

That was around the time
she and her father disappeared.

When they offered her to Pedro Páramo

many years later, of course,

she was already getting sick.

He loved her so much

that he spent the rest of his years
sitting on a wicker chair,

staring at the road
that took her to her holy resting place.

Any day now.

Any day.

Excuse me.

Here are those ledgers
you asked for, Don Pedro.

Do you know who's back here?
Bartolomé San Juan.

Why?

That's what I've been asking myself too.

Especially because he went
right to your old house

as if you had
leased it to him before arriving.

At least the guy still has conviction.

I'll clear it up tomorrow, Don Pedro.

Are they both here?

Yeah. Just him and his wife.

- How do you know that?
- Sure it's not his daughter?

Well, based on how he was with her,

I'm pretty sure she's his wife.

It's Susana.

It's her, Fulgor.

We went together a while ago
to the abandoned mines in Andrómeda.

I'm sure they came back because of
the rumors of people taking up arms.

Ah, I'm sure that's it.

It sounds serious.
I've heard about it myself.

He must have wanted
to bring her to a more peaceful area.

Get some rest, Fulgor.

Right, I'm gonna turn in, boss.

God, this whole town is cursed.
You can smell it.

There's no way we'll find salvation here.

I know it in my bones.

I knew that man
would never give us anything

without asking something in return.

And do you know
what Pedro Páramo has asked for?

The only thing he wants from me

is you.

He said you're my greatest accomplishment.

He said you used to play together
when you were kids.

That you even went swimming
in the river together.

If I would have known that,
I would've whipped your ass!

I know.

So am I to understand you're willing
to spend the night with that man?

- Yes, Bartolomé--
- Don't call me Bartolomé.

I'm your father.

The story is, you're a widow.

And you're still grieving
your dear husband.

Or, I mean, that's

how you comport yourself.

I've tried to talk him out of it.

But I can see the fire burning in his eyes
when I talk about you.

He's corrupt and immoral.

That is Pedro Páramo.

So who am I, then?

You are my daughter.

Mine.

The child of Bartolomé San Juan.

What have we done?

Why have our souls become so impure?

That's not true.

It's not true.

What? What isn't true?

Are you insane?

Yes, Bartolomé.

You know I am, right?

I swear, she's the most beautiful
woman to ever walk the earth, Fulgor.

And I thought I'd lost her forever.

But this time,
I'm not willing to lose her again.

- You understand, Fulgor?
- Yes.

Tell her father we'll give him what
he needs to keep making use of the mines.

It will be easier
to get rid of the old man over there,

don't you think?

Yeah, sure.

Fulgor, we need to make it happen.

If she's an orphan, it'll be easier.

We have to help those in need.

What if…

if she found out, boss?

And who'd tell her?

Come on, tell me.
Who's going to say something?

- No one. No one would, I guess.
- No, I don't wanna hear "I guess."

You need to get those words
out of your mind. Got it?

Send him there so he gets back to work.

He just needs to leave his daughter here,
and we'll take care of her.

Tell him that, Fulgor.

I'm glad to see you
acting like this again, boss.

You're getting back
to your old self, Don Pedro.

Easy now.

Whoa.

Welcome, ma'am.
Here. Come on in, please.

This way.

Susana.

Su… I'm Pedro Páramo.

Pedro.

Hello, ma'am.

Can I show you in?

Is that you, Bartolomé?

What's the matter, Damiana?

Why'd you startle?

I…

I didn't startle.

You must have been dreaming.

I already told you I don't dream.

Swear to God.

And besides, I had trouble sleeping.

You didn't let the cat out last night,
and it wouldn't let me sleep.

The cat was sleeping with me,
between my legs.

He was soaked to the bone, and I felt bad,
so I let him sleep in the bed with me.

That's not true. I'm telling you,
it was running around in here.

He's adorable. I just don't want him
around when I'm trying to sleep, okay?

I'm sorry to tell you, Susana…

your father passed away.

He died two nights ago.

They said there was nothing to be done.

He was laid in a grave.

They didn't bring him here
because the trip was just too long.

Now you're all alone.

Then he was here.

It was you. You came to say goodbye.

Tell me what you see, Susana.

I'm not seeing
anything, Father.

I'm gonna give you more slack. Tell me
when your feet are touching the ground.

Come on, get a good look.

Look for money.

We're looking
for round, gold coins.

Keep your eyes peeled, Susana.

Susana!

Susana!

Susana!

Come on. Susana, search more.

Look for money.

We're looking for round, gold coins.

Keep your eyes peeled, Susana.

Is it you, Father?

I just came
to console you, child.

You know, I'm worried
your heart is withering.

You can't let your big heart wither away.

You can go now, Father.

And don't come back.

Why are you visiting me
if you're already dead?

- Come on, open it. There.
- All right.

Channel the water
to the other side.

Dig a little deeper.

Water that side.

Oh!

Hold on, I know that one.

He's the administrator of Media Luna.

Hold it.

What can I do for you?

Do you work for Pedro Páramo?

Yeah.

Then go tell your boss
we're revolutionaries,

and we're here to take his land.

- Yes, sir.
- Hurry!

While you're at it,
tell him we'll see him soon.

Run faster! Move!

Hurry, move your fat ass!

Move!

Let's move out!

Come on!

They didn't even look at me, sir,
but poor Don Fulgor,

they shot him down
while he was running away.

Go tell them
I'm happy to give them whatever they need.

They just have to deal with me.

What kind of revolutionaries are they?

I don't know, sir.
That's what they called themselves.

I need you
to run by La Consagración.

Do you know the Tilcuate, the one-eyed?

- Get that man here on the double.
- Right away, boss.

Brothers, what else
can I provide you with?

Well, as you can see,

we've decided to take up arms.

Mm. And?

You mean, that's not enough?
I'm sorry to disappoint.

Uh-huh. Why did you do it?

Well, plenty of others
have taken up the cause.

So you haven't heard?

You know what?
We'll wait until we get our instructions,

and then we'll fill you in
on the specifics.

I know what the cause is.

And I guess I can tell you.

Mm.

We've taken up arms against the government
and the rich landowners

because we're pretty goddamn tired
of putting up with you.

The government's corrupt, like you.

And you and your friends
are a bunch of miserable,

underhanded, backstabbing thieves.

And we don't plan to do too much talking.

We're leaving the finer points
of negotiation to our bullets.

Mm.

So what do you need
to pay for this revolution?

Maybe I can help you guys.

I mean, the man
is starting to make sense, Perseverancio.

We need the money,
and a rich guy could be a huge boon to us.

And who better
than the one sitting in front of us?

Uh, hey, Casildo.

How much money do we need?

Really? This guy wouldn't buy an orphan
a new pair of shoes.

Let's make the most of our visit.

We could just sit here and beg for money,
or we could cut his throat and take it.

Just calm down, Perseverancio.

Time for us to make a deal.

Go ahead, Casildo.

Uh…

Well, I estimate that we need
about 20,000 pesos.

That should be enough to get us started.

Although I think our gracious host
has deeper pockets.

And he seems more than willing
to lend us a hand.

So let's say 50,000 pesos.

We have a deal?

How about twice that much money?

How many do you have?

300 in total.

All right. How about I give you
another 300 men?

Fresh blood to swell your ranks.

You'll have the men and the money
in one week.

The cash is a gift. It's yours.
As for the men, you're renting them.

We won't say no.

All right, I'll see you
in eight days, gentlemen,

and it's been a pleasure
getting to know you.

All right, then.

- Move it.
- Let's go.

Who do you think
is in charge of these guys?

Oh, I have a feeling
it's the fat one in the middle.

He didn't look up the whole time
he was sitting at the table.

It's gotta be him.

No, Damasio. You are the boss.

What? You don't want
to join the revolution?

Oh, of course. I mean, I can't wait.

I've always loved
stirring up trouble, sir.

You saw what they're all about,
so you don't need my advice.

Gather 300 men you trust
and sign them up for the cause.

I know you'll figure out
how to manage that.

About the money,

should I just give it to them?

I'll give you ten pesos for each man.

For basic supplies and expenses.

Tell them the rest is being kept here
to take at their leisure.

Try not to go too far from my property.

That way, if more come,
they'll think it's been seized.

And come to see me when possible
or if you have any news.

- All right. See you soon, boss.
- Go on.

She's talking now,
Juan Preciado. Listen to her.

What is she saying?

She's saying
she would get lost in his body…

as she felt her flesh dissolving.

But his death was even more painful.

That's what she's saying.

But who is she talking about?

It must have been
someone who died before her.

Margarita.

Open the door, Margarita.

My little handful of flesh.

Look at the sand.

Come for a swim with me.

All of the sea foam.

When is this gonna be over?

Nothing can last this long.

Every memory fades away, no matter
how intense it is or what it means.

What if it's not a memory?

Thirty years.

I waited until I had everything.

Not just enough for the two of us,
but everything that money could buy

so we wouldn't have any desires left.

Just yours.

And my desire for you.

When I first heard you were coming back…

I never wanted to hold you so bad

and surround you with joy.

And I cried, Susana,

when they told me you were coming back.

Are you okay?

Is it true the worst sins
happen at night, Damiana?

Yes, Susana.

And what else is life but a bitter sin?

Hear that?

Can't you hear the earth grinding on?

No, Susana.

- I don't hear anything at all.
- Sh!

We can't all hear as well as you seem to.

If you heard what I heard,
it would just astound you.

Do you think hell is real, Damiana?

Yes, Susana.

And so is heaven.

I only believe in hell though.

- Damiana, how is she?
- Bad.

It's bad.

Susana?

I saw Mrs. Susanita die.

What do you mean, Dorotea?

I mean exactly what I said.

I remember watching
the light in that window go out.

It had been on for three straight years,

night after night.

- All right. Excuse me for a second.
- Yes, sir.

Oh, that poor thing. Do you think
she's well enough to talk right now?

Who knows how much time she has left?

And now my mouth is filled
with the dark earth.

Yes, Father.

Don't say, "Yes, Father."

Repeat after me.
Do you think you can do that?

Tell me why you're really here.

Are you here to take my confession?

No, Susana. I've simply come here
to talk with you.

To prepare you for your departure.

So I'm about to die?

Yes, child.

All right, then.
Please just leave me in peace.

I want to rest now, Father.

I will leave you in peace, Susana.

Repeat the words after me slowly.

That's all you have to do, and

you will gradually drift off to sleep.

You'll never wake up, my child.

Thank you, Father.

I'll do what you say.

And now my mouth
is filled with the dark earth.

I swallow saliva like sea foam.

I chew up

great clods of dirt crawling with worms.

My contorted mouth begins to cave in,

and my teeth pierce its roof
to let in the darkness.

My soft eyeballs liquefy in their sockets.

Every hair on my head
burns in a single flame.

I felt protected in his arms.

He gave me love.

I haven't finished the prayer.

A vision of the Lord.

The final fleeting vision of those
who are condemned to eternal suffering.

The softest light of his infinite heaven.

The rejoicing of the holy cherubs.

The joyful countenance of God.

And with that vision comes

a totally overwhelming
and profound earthly pain.

A raging fire whirls around you and turns
your marrow into glowing embers.

The blood in your veins
sears and scalds like molten oil,

inflicting an unbelievable anguish,
a breathtaking pain.

A pain that will never abate,

for its torturous flame is fanned forever
by the wrath of the Lord.

You're entering the presence of the Lord.

He's cruel in his judgment
of corrupt and immoral sinners.

You may leave now, Father.

You don't have to worry about me.

I know I can rest now.

And I am so exhausted.

Damiana,

please go cry elsewhere, I beg you.

The ringing of that death
lasted more than it should have.

IMMACULATE CONCEPTION

People flooded in
from other towns,

drawn by the ringing of all those bells.

And so, little by little,

the event turned
into a massive celebration.

Comala was bustling with people.

The festivities brought music and laughter
to the streets.

Just like that,
she leaps into the air!

Wow! How about that?

Wow!

Eventually,
the bells fell silent.

But the celebration continued.

There was absolutely no way
to convince them

that we were still in mourning.

We were still grieving.

Ah. Ah. Ah.

You can't just stay put by yourself
all night, Don Pedro.

At least sit down, please, sir.

I will cross my arms,

and Comala will be starving in a month.

Oh boy,
here comes the one-eyed boss.

Hi, boss.

Father Rentería is up in arms.
That's what we have heard.

Why did he do that?

Well, because the revolutionary government

has suspended all holy services
in the area.

Mm.

Weren't you all just fighting
with Pancho Villa?

Or was it Obregón?

They reached a peace deal, Don Pedro.

We're free men now.

What do we do?

Are we with Rentería or against him?

What kind of question is that?

You side with the government.

But we're a band of irregulars.

They'll just consider us rebels.

Then do whatever you want.

Well, I'll go back
to our little priest, then.

I like the Cristeros' battle cry.

Not to mention,
I should get to heaven if I join up.

Ah.

Well, Don Pedro,

see you around.

- We may go.
- Let's go, let's go.

From the moment
Pedro Páramo cast away the people

and sat down in his wicker chair,

the whole region
became a barren wasteland.

Little by little, the town emptied out.

People simply dried up
and faded into the dust.

And the streets echoed with farewells.

I stayed because I had nowhere else to go.

But once everyone left,

there was no more charity
for me to depend on.

Before long, I began to starve to death.

After we found you,
my body refused to leave that place.

I could feel it
all the way down to my bones.

And your soul?

Where do you think it went?

Well, it urged me to stand up,
put one foot forward,

and keep dragging myself along.

It was like it wanted me
to await some final miracle

that would free me from my sins.

But I didn't have the strength for that.

I opened my mouth
so my soul could take flight,

and she was gone.

I felt the thin string of blood
that was tied to my heart

falling into my hands.

I was certain nobody would care.

No one ever noticed me.
It's like I wasn't there.

Even when my body met the ground,
I didn't take up space.

I was buried in your grave,
laid to rest right beside you,

and I fit perfectly
in the space between your arms.

You know, I still think
it would have been better

if I was the one
embracing you for eternity.

And Pedro Páramo?

The years went by,
and he just sat there

like some kind of scarecrow.

He forgot to sleep as time stopped.

He stayed awake all the time

because he was afraid of the ghosts
that might visit him at night.

He didn't want to be
locked in the house with them.

He was terrified of that.

Damiana!

Get out here and see…

…what this guy wants.

Give me just a little help
so that I can bury my wife.

Oh, dear Lord, our God, we ask for
your protection from the devil's tricks.

What are you saying?

I just need a little money
so I can bury my dead wife.

I even sold both my burros
to bring… bring her a doctor, but it was--

Just get out of here.

It didn't
do her any good, you know?

She's there.

Alone, still.

Still wet with last night's dew.

Hey, over here! Anyone!

Help! Somebody help us!

Help me out.

Help me out!

Help me out!

Hey, are you okay, boss?

It's me, Don Pedro.

Lunch is ready. I'll bring it to you.

I'll come inside.

On my way.

THE END

BASED ON THE NOVEL BY
JUAN RULFO