Original subtitles

♪♪ [rhythmic stomping, clapping]

Stand up!

Stand up!

Take off your clothes.

Stand up!

[cheering]

♪♪ [singing in French]

Man on TV: Leave the boots on.

♪♪ [singing continues]

I feel like I'm drowning in vagueness.

This is terrible!

So fucking slow! Turn it off.

Who the motherfucking fuck made this piece of shit?

Chris Kraus.

Oh, I remember this one.

We had to pull her film.

We got a cease and desist letter.

She didn't have the rights to the music.

Put it over there for now.

- ♪♪ [rhythmic stomping, clapping] - Love that one song, though.

Stand up!

Shame.

- Stand up! - [vocalizing]

- Ah. - ♪♪ [singing in French]

Uhh!

Chris: Dear Dick, I'm totally obsessed with you.

Chris: Turn over. I'm going to try to--

Dear Dick, you've turned our house into a brothel.

I'm going to squeeze your nipples really fucking hard.

Ah, it's too hard!

Jizz all over me. Wait, wait, wait.

♪♪ [continues]

Sylvere: Fuck.

Dick, tell me that I'm naughty.

Tell me I'm bad.

Tell me I'm a bad girl, Dick.

Tell me that I'm a bad girl, Dick.

Oh, Dick. Dick.

Dick. Ohh.

Oh, Dick.

Oh, my God, you're so wet.

Ohh.

- Tell me to come. - Don't come.

- Ohh. - Not yet.

[grunting] Let me come.

- Dick. Dick. - Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.

[both mumbling]

Come now.

Dick. Dick. Ahh.

I'm going to come.

Come now.

- Oh, God. - Get-- Get--

- Go. Go. - Now.

Dick. Dick. Ohh!

Oh! Fuck! Fuck you, Dick!

Fuck! Fuck you, Dick!

Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!

Oh! Oh!

[moaning]

You couldn't wait, could you?

I don't know why we didn't do this years ago.

Sylvere: I changed my mind.

You can't go to his class.

- It's not-- - What happened in there

has nothing to do with him.

That is ours. That is our game.

- It-- - Hey.

- That-- - Hey.

Nothing to do with him? You--

- We are grownups-- - He fucked you for the past--

with a healthy, healthy adult fantasy life.

- Fantasy? - Yes.

Going to sit in on his class.

Not my fantasy.

- It's not. - That's ours.

That has nothing to do with him.

♪ There is no end

♪ To this story

♪ No final blow

♪ Or glory

Okay, I want you to consider the problem of time--

what's your relationship to it.

Right? A piece of art is always a relic

of the artist's past--

an idea, a thought,

an impulse that by the very nature--

Oh, I'm sorry.

of time itself

is fleeting.

So just silently right now,

I want you to just take in this place.

- [phone rings] - Fuck. Sorry.

[ring]

[ring]

And if I see a cell phone, I will smash it.

Sorry. It was me. I'm sorry.

Okay.

Your first assignment,

I want you to look around the space

and allow yourself to naturally gravitate

to a piece of art.

Let's do it.

[laughter, chatter]

[rumbling]

You said to gravitate--

You're not enrolled in my seminar.

Yeah, I know. I'm auditing it.

Mm-hmm. There's a wait list--

very long wait list.

I'll be really quiet. You won't even know--

I-- I'm sorry about my phone before,

that I turned it on-- I--

All of these students...

have an art project. They are artists.

I actually brought you just a little something,

if you want to take a quick peek.

- Now? - Yeah. Why not?

There's-- They're all-- Everyone's milling.

- Just here-- - I have to teach.

Uh--

Okay, well, I w-- uh--

I'll wait, then. I'll wait.

All right. That's it for today.

Go home and just...

write down a few things about...

what we were feeling and why we were feeling it.

Thank you. See you next week.

Uh, okay.

So I've got it semi-cued up.

Let me see. Shall we wait until they--

Uh, wait. Oh, shit.

Glad I didn't break my--

Uh, I did a short film called Sylvie and Jerome.

Oh. the film with the song I was telling you about.

And it's not cut. It was, uh, based, on, uh,

well, a period in my life when I was really interested

in, um, Artaud's Theatre of Cruelty--

Could you please stop talking and I'll just take a look?

[sigh] Okay.

- So want to-- - Yeah.

All right, just press "play."

Then tell me--

Okay.

[grunt]

Sylvie: I feel like I'm drowning in fakeness.

Here. Let me make sure it's bright enough. Sorry.

Sorry.

I feel like I'm drowning in fakeness.

Jerome: Things would have been so much better

if I was born next door to you.

You would have been, uh, little Dorothy,

and I'd have been the man behind the curtain.

Why are you doing this to me?

I feel like you don't see me.

Why is it so hard for you to see?

Sorry.

- Now smocks are-- - Okay.

What-- You saw, like--

That was maybe seven seconds of it.

You want my opinion?

Do you have one?

Because you watched-- It was literally--

It's not my thing.

What do-- What do you mean, it's not your--

- Not my thing. - No, I got-- I got that.

I don't know what you mean when you say "Not--

Not my thing."

Uh--

That's your answer for me

is you're just going to shrug?

Look, I'm sure there's an audience

for this kind of stuff.

I'm just not it.

Mm-hmm.

This kind of stuff?

What-- Can you please--

What do you mean by "This-- This--

This kind of stuff"?

This is y-- This is yours?

This is-- This is yours?

Yeah. That-- It looks like a brick to me.

I love a straight line.

A straight line is perfection.

Ohh. Okay.

Well, then I get it.

There's no arguing with perfection.

I mean, if you have achieved perfection, Dick,

w-what else is there to work on?

Is that why you haven't done anything

in seven years?

Because you've already achieved perfection?

Sorry. I don't think a straight line equals art.

They don't call it

the Philadelphia Museum of Lines.

Sorry if I offended you.

Oh, it's a hand. Okay.

Uh, let's just--

I always appreciate a good--

I'll see you around 10.

you know, debate about...

[gasp] Oh, my God.

On the eighth or ninth day,

I rewrite the second letter.

I wrote eight pages while eating a lot of sugar.

We are thrilled to have a feminist scholar here.

- It's about time. - Yeah. Yeah.

I mean, I wouldn't describe my work as being feminist.

- Huh. - I would describe it

as formalist foremost.

Interesting. All right. Huh.

I'll right. Formalist. Noted.

Paula, I'm so sorry.

Sylvere, welcome.

My apologies to everyone.

Hello. You didn't tell me you were a fellow

when-- when we met.

You didn't ask.

Okay. Well, uh--

- Uh, really, right-- - Excuse me.

- Could have taken this-- - All right.

Hi, guys. I'm Suki. People call me Sooks.

I'm in charge of all housing problems,

travel, WiFi passwords, stipend.

Anything you need, you can come to me first.

Uh, the weekly meetings,

are they-- they're going to be optional?

The goal of our time here in Marfa

is for the community of fellows

to really cross-pollinate with each other.

Mm-hmm.

I'm a fan of interdisciplinary dialogue.

Very Socratic and all that.

Oh, ready to cross-pollinate already, huh?

This place is, like,

both dumpy and hip.

That house--

it's Christmas all year 'round.

They make their own ornaments out of old gourds

and sell them in the town once in a while

when the mood strikes.

Festive.

There's the one-eyed cat.

- Huh. - Here, kitty kitty.

- [kiss sounds] - Hi, Cyclops.

How'd it lose its eye, you think?

Cat fight.

- Cat fight, yeah. - [kiss sounds]

- You want to hold him? - Nope.

One-eyed cat.

Uh-- Oh, actually, you'd find this interesting.

Supposedly,

an actual Nazi lives in that house.

Now you're just making shit up.

No, I swear to God.

- Oh, you serious? - Yeah.

- Here in Marfa? - Here in Marfa.

A real Nazi?

Yep. She was Hitler's chauffeur or something.

I don't think Hitler had a lady chauffeur.

Okay, well--

[sniffle]

Ohh.

[clatter]

Hello?

Hi.

Hi.

Oh, hey.

Uh, I--

I wish that we had known

that you were coming today

because I-- I-- you kind of scared the shit out of me.

Oh. Somebody called yesterday to give us a time.

It's okay.

Sorry.

Can I ask you a question?

Have you heard of Maya Deren?

- Filmmaker? - Uh, no.

Yeah. She's supposed to be, like,

the most important female filmmaker,

and, you know, to be-- God's honest truth--

I think she's boring as-- as shit.

It's like impenetrable. I can't--

There's no way I can even get through one

without wanting to gouge my eyeballs out,

and she's considered, like, you know--

Do you know who I like? Spielberg. [sniffle]

Spielberg. I like Scorsese, Cukor--

[sniffle]-- Coppola, Francis Ford.

Not Sofia.

Sofia Coppola with the cute,

perfect chestnut highlights.

Ooh, hey, how'd you get that brunette?

Lot of money.

You know, I'm beginning to think

there's, like, no such thing as a good woman filmmaker.

It's like, how can you be

if you just like are raised to be invisible?

I'm invisible. I mean, looked at.

I mean, it's a wonder

that any woman can think of herself as an artist.

Um, I'm an artist, too, so--

Oh. I didn't realize.

Sorry. Let me just grab these things.

I made a lot of films, Devon.

I mean, a l-- like, a lot of films.

I mean, and is it possible

that every single one of those films is bad?

It's like when you have the idea for a movie, Devon,

it's, like, in your mind.

It's huge.

It's like--

It's like the whole world's like your whole soul.

And then you make the movie...

and suddenly it's compared

to every other movie that's ever been made,

and something that was so big...

becomes, like...

like the tiniest Russian nesting column...

like... a piece of sand. It's like--

♪ ...once more

♪ There's one thing that I'd like to know ♪

♪ Did you ever believe...

What's your project about?

I look at hardcore porn without judgment.

So I reduce it to its shapes.

And they gave you a Guggenheim for that?

God, you're such a child.

You're just so... young.

I mean, why are you obsessed with porn?

Like, why?

I mean, my God, look at you.

You're so beautiful,

so achingly beautiful.

You're awful.

♪♪ [Tijuana brass]

Chris Kraus.

After a few days,

I reread everything I'd written.

I spread my clothes over me

and waited.

[door opens]

Sylvere: Hey, babe.

[door closes]

- Babe. - In here.

[sigh]

I think I hate this fucking town.

How was Dick's class?

Uh, it was full, so I didn't get in.

Yeah?

You know...

I don't know about this place.

It's kind of creepy, you know?

It's like, uh, the people are, like, really,

I don't know, damaged or something.

It's like being in a hell mouth.

You know?

- Hmm. - Well...

Mm, your hair smells nice.

[sniff] Mm.

Yeah.

- Oh. - God. Sorry. Sorry.

Sorry. Like, skin's really feeling tight.

- I'm sorry, baby. - No. Yeah. Cool.

There's nothing--

Okay.

- Don't be mad at me. - I'm not.

[sigh]

[knocking]

Devon, it's Suki and Geoff.

We're busting in.

All right, guys. Thank you for coming.

What's going on?

Clear your next six weekends.

- Geoff: All right. - Suki: Okay.

I'm writing a play.

- Really? - Yeah. It's, uh,

it's about a couple from New York.

It's not about a couple. It's about a woman.

And she's trying to become somebody,

but she hates herself.

♪ To this story

♪ No final blow

♪ Or glory

♪ Love came here

♪ And never left ♪

♪ Now that my heart

♪ Is open

♪ It can't be closed

♪ Or broken

♪ Love came here

♪ And never left

♪ Now I have to live ♪

♪ With loving you forever

♪ Although our days

♪ Of living life

♪ Together

♪ Of living life

♪ Together

♪ Are over

♪ Now that my heart

♪ Is open

♪ It can't be closed

♪ Or broken

♪ Love came here

♪ And never left

♪ Now I have to live ♪

♪ With loving you forever

♪ Although our days

♪ Of living life

♪ Together

[laughter]