Original subtitles

Woman: Sometimes I'm convinced

that all my problems would be solved

if I could just lock him in a cellar.

I would bring him his food three times a day.

I would wash his beautiful body carefully and tenderly.

Then when I had free time, I would release him for our pleasure.

We could go to movies, openings, or out to eat.

He would read interesting articles in his chained-up time.

Then in the evenings, he would talk to me of all he had read that day.

It would be wonderful.

And he would be mine.

All mine.

♪♪

God, this is awful.

- You're fine. - Don't--

- You're fine. - No. Don't "fine" me.

- What-- - Don't-- Do not "fine" me.

I'm gonna be fine when you clear my name.

- Okay. - All right?

I gotta give a speech.

I can't believe I gotta give a speech

on top of everything else.

- Jesus Christ. - Listen.

Isn't this just a little bit sexy, though?

- What? - This whole thing--

- This is a little fun. - No.

- Yes. - The fun part's over.

Oh, you mean the handjob?

- [chuckles] - No. Stop it.

I wanna hear what you're gonna say.

Come on.

I'm gonna say that Sylvere knew nothing about the letters.

- Right. - And that he in no way thinks of you

- as a Roman sex god. - Right.

And that they're a work of fiction

and hence not at all about him.

Correct. Okay.

There's Paula's building.

- Okay. - It's noon, all right?

So Dick and the guests are gonna get here

in half an hour or so.

Okay. You're gonna run up there.

- I'm gonna intercept Dick down here. - Right.

You're gonna be able to watch the whole thing from up there.

- And I am watching the whole thing. - Whole thing--

Yes, I know. That was the plan.

You're gonna watch the whole thing from up there.

Okay. What's rule number one?

- Rule number one. - No touching.

- I won't touch him. - Don't touch him.

I promise. I promise.

What's rule number two?

I love you.

[sighs]

Don't mind me. I got fuckin' fired.

No shit. It was not my fault.

Never is.

Dolores, come on, that's the good stuff.

Don't call me Dolores.

Oh, fuck.

[liquid pouring]

Can't give you a loan.

But if you want,

Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I raise the pay to $10 an hour.

No. I'm not fuckin' pouring drinks for out-of-work ranch hands.

- Those tips are shit. - You know what?

Then go back to college and stop fucking around.

I'm not fucking around, man!

The one time I--

[sighs]

I'm writing a play.

I need a place to workshop it.

I just want to know if I can use the bar to rehearse.

This town is nothing but space,

but it's all for rich cowboys and trust fund kids.

No. Mm-mmm.

Dolores, you can't expect everyone to bail you out

every time that you get yourself into--

You know what, Mercedes?

You sound a lot like Mom.

Okay. I love you too, mi cielo.

[sighs]

♪♪

Paula: Sylvere!

Oh, fuck.

Sylvere!

Uh, you know what? I'm early.

- Sylvere-- - Let me just walk around.

- I'll come back-- - No, you're being silly.

You're our guest of honor. Get in here.

I want you to meet our board president, Larchmont Green.

She is a huge fan of the Holocaust.

- Great. - Just do your thing.

[chattering]

Larchmont Green, this is Sylvere Lotringer,

the one I was telling you about.

- Very nice to meet you. - You remember Suki.

- Suki. How are you? - Good to see you.

- Sylvere? That's a French name. - Mm-hmm.

Do you know what the American version is?

You know, like Pierre/Peter,

- Jacques/Jack? - Um...

Hmm. I think it's, uh, Sylvester, I think.

Can you just excuse me one second?

Just-- Just--

Larchmont: I wanna know his American name

so I can call him by it,

'cause Sylvere is a little odd.

[whispering] Hey. Chris.

Chris. Chr--

Chris. Chris. Look up.

Look up.

Chris.

Chris. Chris.

Focus. Look. Up. Look.

Look up.

Oh, Chris, look up. Look--

♪♪

[lamb bleating]

[lamb bleating]

[car horn blaring]

[rapping on window]

[mouthing words]

Dick is here.

Dick-- Dick...

Get up here. Come here.

Sylvere.

You know what?

God. Hi.

That is so-- What a view.

- Thanks for coming. - Oh, Dick, wonderful seeing you.

Listen, I was hoping to get a moment.

Um, do you happen to know where the bathroom is?

No.

Okay, I'll find it. Um, and I'll find you here.

[crowd chattering]

- How the fuck did he get up here? - I don't know.

But I just talked to him, and it was fucking humiliating.

- What did you talk about? - What did we talk about?

- We didn't talk talk. - Okay.

Hello, everybody. Hi. Hello.

I can't do this. I cannot talk in front of him

until you fix this.

Do you want half of a Xanax?

Just, like, a nibble of a Xanax?

So I give you our executive director,

head curator, heartbeat of this place,

Paula Morrison.

[applause]

Thank you.

Hello, everyone.

Okay, I got this.

Paula: I wanna welcome you to the 2017 Fellows Project launch.

[applause]

It is so good to see some new faces, old faces.

Today, I have such a treat for you.

I want to introduce to you a remarkable Fellow.

Excuse me.

I need to talk to you.

We need to talk.

I know you read the letters.

Please, let's get started. Would everyone please put their glasses on?

My work is rooted in Ilinx.

In video games, Ilinx provokes the feeling

of being pulled into a circling cyclone.

What did you think of the writing?

They're just a rough-- a rough first draft.

Haven't had a chance to polish it.

You are all wild stallions.

Revel in this feeling of being a wild stallion.

Because believe it or not,

this is a feeling that you will take with you...

- Does your husband know? - No.

He knows nothing. He's in the dark.

Now, Sylvere Lotringer on trauma

and the implications of multi-directional memory

in contemporary acts of violence.

Sylvere.

[applause]

Yeah.

Sorry.

Hi. Um... Okay.

Um...

I've dedicated my life

absorbing historical facts

so that I might be a walking compendium

of the Holocaust.

But when you chase learning everything,

you come to find that you know nothing.

Um...

I'm sorry, one second.

Uh-- [exhales]

So in shifting focus to...

I'm free in the afternoons.

Like Tuesday or Thursday.

Not both.

But one of--

If you need to work...

we could meet on a Sunday.

What are you-- What are you doing?

His...

And the...

So the victim...

But the victim is, uh...

What are you doing?

- What are you doing? - Shut up.

You're married.

Why would you even bring in--

You need to stop.

I don't think you want me to stop.

I don't find you interesting.

Not now.

Not ever.

So, uh-- Hey, more to come.

- [applause] - Thank you. Thank you.

Paula: The last of our Fellows today,

Toby Willis.

Hi.

Thank you, Paula...

- for having us in your beautiful house. - [sighs]

What the fuck happened, huh?

He's such a shit head.

Did you tell him? Huh?

Did you tell him I'm in the dark?

Yes, I fucking told him.

What exactly did you say?

I don't know what I said.

I don't know what I said.

Can you give me just a little bit of space?

I can't breathe. I can't breathe.

Let's get you out of here. Come on.

What did he say to you?

[sniffling]

What? He said I was uninteresting.

Well-- Well, he's wrong.

He's just wrong.

I mean, you-- you are a fascinating woman

with a wild intelligence.

I know.

I know.

So, come on, let's go home,

drink three bottles of wine,

and forget all about today, okay?

Come on. Let's go.

What are you--

Hey! Hey!

Where you all going?

- Lost Horse! Where else? - Whoo-hoo!

Chris, don't.

- Come on-- - No, I need to see him.

I need to look at his stupid cowboy face,

and I need to make him feel as uncomfortable as possible.

Chris, don't do this.

- Sylvere, go home. - Don't--

Chris!

Fuck you.

♪♪

♪ Everybody's going out and having fun ♪

♪ And I'm just a fool for staying home and having none ♪

♪ I can't over how she set me free ♪

♪ Oh, lonesome me

♪♪ [continues]

- Hey, can I get a bourbon? - You got it.

Thank you.

♪♪ [continues]

♪ Oh, lonesome me

♪♪ [continues]

♪ There must be some way

♪ I can lose these lonesome blues ♪

♪♪ [continues]

♪ Oh, lonesome me

♪♪ [fades]

Chris: Dear Dick...

♪♪ [continues]

Hi.

- ♪♪ [ends] - [crowd cheering]

My wife, uh--

she's not...

acclimating here very well.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

You know, uh... Marfa.

- I see that. - Right.

Kind of losing it.

- Going a little crazy. - She's a distraction.

Well, I'm gonna make this go away.

Well, that's okay with me.

♪♪

Let's go.

Girl: So where's the man camp?

What, are there, like, trailers full of guys?

It's, like, my worst nightmare.

- You and me both. - [chuckles]

What do you do? You, like, play guitar together

and quote "Reservoir Dogs"?

- Shit like that? - Sometimes, yeah.

It does get kind of lonely,

but you can't beat the money.

- Devon. - Hi, Devon.

Lawrence. Lawrence, Devon.

He was just telling me about

how his crazy schedule at the man camps

or the oil-- the oil pipeline.

Raping the land?

- It's a great job. - Truth.

But it's better than my last gig.

I used to sweep blood off a slaughterhouse floor.

Rape or murder. Pick your poison, I guess.

- Yes. - [chuckles]

I'm gonna go.

- I'm gonna stay. - Why?

You're talking to this guy?

I'm right here.

I find his story genuinely interesting.

Inspiring, even.

♪♪ [continues]

♪♪

♪♪ [continues]

♪♪ [continues]

Whoo! Are you fucking kidding me?

- This is it? - Yeah, that's the man camp.

Sylvere?

Honey.

[sighs]

What did he say?

He said you're a distraction.

[stammers]

Distraction to who?

To him?

God. To me.

You're a distraction to me

and my work.

That's-- [laughs]

I'm your first fucking reader.

We-- We are our work.

We are our work.

I added your shit, you added mine.

Our ideas are like--

We're not even-- Who the--

- How dare he. - He's right. He's right.

- He's right. - No, he's not, Sylvere.

He has no idea who the fuck we are.

- He has no idea what this is. - You know...

This-- This is--

This-- It's all just out of hand.

I mean, it spiraled out of control.

I-- I don't like what we've become.

I don't know what it is,

but I don't like it.

- I don't like how this feels. - Okay.

Okay.

Can we just stop it?

Now? Just--

Just stop all this?

I don't think I can.

[chuckles]

Maybe we just--

We just need some space.

Yeah.

Yeah, maybe we do.

♪♪

♪♪ [Sag Mir Wo Die Blumen by Marlene Dietrich]

[laughter]