Original subtitles

THE SOUTH

AUTUMN 1957

Agustin?

Casilda!

-What's wrong, ma'am? -My husband is gone.

And Sindbad won't stop barking.

Agustin!

Provincial Hospital?

Is Dr. Arenas there?

This is his wife.

Ma'am! Estrella's bicycle is gone!

No.

I just wanted to know if he spent the night there.

Do you know where he could be?

Yes.

If he arrives, please tell him to call home right away.

Yes. It’s very urgent.

Yes.

His wife.

Thank you.

That day at sunrise

when I found his pendulum under my pillow

I felt I knew

that everything had changed,

that he would never come home.

Well?

A girl.

Are you sure?

I’m sure.

What will she be called?

Estrella.

They told me that my father predicted

that I would be a girl.

It’s the first thing about him that comes to my mind,

a vivid image that

in reality,

I had only invented.

Want some?

Yes.

I grew up moving from place to place.

He was looking for a steady job.

He found it in the north,

in a city surrounded by walls

on the banks of a river.

We lived on the outskirts

in a rented house,

"The Seagull."

It stood in no-man's land

between the country and the city

beside a road that my father called

"The Border."

-We'll continue the same treatment. -When do I get out?

I’m fed up here.

-I have to go back home. -Very soon.

Very soon.

Just do what Sr. Lucia tells you.

And relax.

Just relax.

Will you give me a ride?

Isn't it too late?

No.

Come on! Just one.

All right.

Come on, get on.

Faster!

Okay.

Estrella!

Less noise!

Your dad's upstairs.

I didn't know.

If you bother him,

he can't do his experiments.

Estrella! What...

What did I tell you?

I dropped it.

Listen, Mom.

Why doesn't Dad want anyone to come into the attic?

Because all the power he keeps in there

would escape.

Sure. That's why he locks the door?

If he lost that power

he couldn't do anything he's doing.

Where does he get it from?

From nowhere.

It’s just something he has.

Has he always had it?

Yes.

Since he was born.

What about me? Can I have it too?

I don't know.

As you're his daughter...

I suppose so.

Would you like that?

Very much!

And now,

go to sleep.

-Good night, sweetie. -Good night, Mom.

The first thing you have to learn

is how to hold the pendulum.

Take it.

Don't press your fingers too much.

Like that.

That's the way.

Now,

close your eyes a little

without thinking about anything.

No.

Don't hold the chain so tight.

Let it hang loose.

That's it.

Like that.

Now,

you do it.

Don't think about anything.

Slowly.

Nice and slow.

That's it.

Like that.

Very good.

Your mind completely empty.

That's it.

Very good.

Dad, it's spinning!

Stop!

Stop there.

It’s spinning.

-He's found it. -Now he'll check the depth.

Now count them.

Well, has it appeared?

The water's here.

Two.

Three.

How far down do we have to dig?

Each coin equals a meter.

The total equals the depth you have to dig.

Seven.

Eight.

-How many coins are there? -Eight.

Eight meters.

-That's what you have to dig. -Now we know what to do.

It’s easy, not too deep.

My dad could do things others saw as almost miracles.

But to me,

being a part of him,

they seemed the most normal things in the world.

My mother was one of the teachers

who suffered reprisals after the civil war.

She taught me to read and write.

Softly

going up

and strongly going down.

A bit more.

More ink. Wet your pen.

Oh, boy!

-Another blot. -It doesn't matter. Go on.

Good.

We would spend all day together,

yet I have few clear memories of her from that time.

I remember her sitting next to a window

in the afternoons

sewing my dresses,

in the greenhouse taking care of her flowers.

In the patio

varnishing old furniture she got from God knows where.

And at night

reading the novels she liked so much.

How is it?

Very nice.

My father's origins were always a true mystery to me.

I knew nothing of his past

but it never bothered me.

What's that?

Spearmint.

It smells so good!

We'll give some to Mom to put it in the soup.

For me it was enough having him by my side

and nothing else bothered me.

The story that held the mystery

gradually unfolded before me

through my mother's words.

In the south

it almost never snows.

What a strange place.

Listen, Mom.

How come we've never gone there?

Your dad left when he was young

and never wanted to return.

Why did he leave?

He never got along with your grandfather.

I’ve been told that

they fought like cats and dogs,

that your dad was very unruly and your grandpa bad-tempered.

So you can imagine what happened.

From the very beginning these stories were like fantasies,

and I filled them with images I gathered from all over the place.

Not knowing the real distances involved.

I located it on the other side of the globe,

always with palm trees in the background,

somewhere in the south.

Something I never understood clearly

happened to my father there.

Something that made him leave and never go back.

One May afternoon,

the day before my First Communion two women arrived from the south.

The seagull!

There it is. Do you see it?

Where?

On top of that house, it seems to be really flying!

-Milagros, I don't see anything. -Pepe, stop! It must be here.

Are you sure, Milagros?

If we're wrong...

I said, "Stop the car", you disbeliever.

I think they're here.

Go and open up!

What a racket you're making.

I’m coming.

Mom! They're here!

Now I hope you behave.

Where's Dad?

Dad!

-Come here for a second. -What for?

-I’ll comb your hair a bit. -But I’m fine.

Please. Come on.

Does Agustín Arenas live here?

Yes, we've been expecting you.

Pepe, you can unload the luggage.

I don't...

I don't like it parted on the side.

That's how you always wear it.

But it looks terrible!

It’s better with your hair off your face. Stop fidgeting!

Don't forget to give your grandmother a kiss.

Okay. All right.

I’m telling you because I know you.

Agustin.

Agustin!

Agustin, my boy!

So many years,

and so many misfortunes everywhere.

You've changed so much.

Are you happy?

Yes.

You really mean it?

-How's my mother? -She's in the car.

She's so-so, because she had a colic four days ago.

What a misfortune, we almost had to stay home.

Go on, go and see her.

Estrella, honey.

You're Estrella, right?

-Yes. And you're Milagros? -That's right.

Hello, son.

How are you?

A bit weak, but I’m fine.

And Estrella?

She's grown a lot, you won't recognize her.

That beard

makes you look old.

Get rid of it.

And your wife?

She's fine. Let's go inside.

Yes, let's.

I can't believe how far away this place is,

I thought we'd never arrive.

Good afternoon, ma'am.

-What's your name? -Casilda.

Can you do me a favor

and get my cane? It’s in the car.

"The Seagull."

Did you give it that name?

No, it was here when we arrived.

Estrella!

You remember me?

It’s your grandma.

The last time I saw you

you were just born.

Julia.

How are you?

So-so, dear. Just so-so.

But I wanted to see my granddaughter

on her First Communion

and here I am!

You must be tired and it's getting chilly.

Let's go in.

-Well... -Here's your cane, ma'am.

Help Pepe with the luggage.

You know who I’m remembering now?

-Who? -Your father.

If only he were here.

Milagros had looked after my father from he was a boy.

She had a way about her

that seemed incredible to me.

Different from anyone I’d met before.

That night we had to sleep in the same room.

When does it start to get warm here, dear?

Here it almost never gets warm.

It doesn't?

What a strange world we live in.

In some places,

people get burned from the heat

and in others they freeze from the cold.

I’m old enough to know what to do.

-And is it very hot in your town? -Very hot.

-How do you stand it? -With patience and lots of shade.

Is it true there are a lot of Moors?

There are still a few, but they're well disguised.

What's so funny?

You talk in a funny way.

-My dad doesn't talk like that. -Because he's a gentleman

and he renounced his hometown.

Don't pay attention to me.

Or else I’ll start prattling and won't stop.

What a shame

that he never came back to the house where he was born.

And it's been so many years since he left!

I know.

What would you know about it, dear?

That my dad never went back because he fought with my grandpa.

Your father told you that?

No, my mother told me.

Is it true that Grandpa is a bad man?

Nonsense!

That's just talk from the old times.

And you know what?

Even wild animals get tamer with age.

Your grandfather's changed.

With all that happened back then

and all the people who died...

And all for their ideas.

It’s true, your grandfather had the worst ones.

And as your dad always thought the opposite, he couldn't take it.

Your grandfather could have kept things to himself

but your dad didn't keep quiet.

Just the opposite.

So they were at each other all the time.

They lost respect for each other

until one day your dad left home.

Your grandfather never understood why they argued.

And it's been like that ever since.

They both got caught in a dead-end.

And they're still there,

trapped.

But was Grandpa one of the bad guys?

Bad guys,

good guys.

Look.

Just so you understand.

When the republic...

Before the war,

your grandpa was one of the bad guys

and your father one of the good guys,

but then, when Franco won,

your grandpa became a saint

and your father a demon.

You see how things are in this world?

Just words, and only words.

But why was Dad a prisoner?

Because that's what the winners in war always do.

But you're such a little girl.

Who told you all this?

My mother.

My goodness!

Couldn't she have told you nicer things?

Or waited a little?

You have plenty of time to learn about all that.

Look, Estrella,

you're just a little girl.

Forget about those things now

and think about your First Communion tomorrow.

One of the loveliest days in your life.

As if you were getting married.

That's what the priest said but I don't understand it.

Well, me neither,

but you get to dress in white just like a bride.

When I grow up I’ll never get married.

And why not?

Because all the brides have that stupid look on their faces.

Look at the wedding photos in the stores, you'll see.

Alright! Enough chitchat!

Go to sleep!

-Wait, don't turn it off! -What do you want?

Milagros,

you think my father will go to church tomorrow?

Of course he will.

It’s just that he never goes.

I know.

But don't you worry.

I’ll get him in there if I have to push him myself!

Now go on, go to sleep.

-Good night, Estrella. -Good night, Milagros.

Mom, those shoes are too tight.

I said that in the store and you didn't listen.

That's just at first, then they stretch.

Here, Julia,

put on some talcum powder.

And now,

the veil.

Jesus!

What was that?

Agustin, out shooting.

What an idea!

My son's only happy if he's making a scene.

There's no excuse for firing shots on a day like today

He does things like that when you least expect it.

I’m getting used to it.

Will he be back soon?

Mom, will he be back soon?

I don't know.

Just like a bride!

Milagros!

The things you say!

Am I right or not, Estrella?

Amen.

Girls, now that you've received Our Lord,

go and greet your parents.

He's here.

-Where is he? -At the back.

If you get tired, you can step outside,

but don't go away, okay?

Okay.

He did it for me.

They left after the party was over,

late in the afternoon.

From that day on, whenever I thought of the south,

the image of those two women came to my mind.

I don't remember clearly now

but I think it was around that time

I discovered that in my father's imagination

another woman existed.

Irene Rios.

Who could Irene Rios be?

Did she really exist?

Or was she an imaginary figure?

Why did Dad write her name so many times?

Mom?

-Do you know Irene Rios? -No.

Who is she?

No one.

A new girl in my class.

I lied the first time I spoke of Irene Rios.

My mother's ignorance made me suspect that

behind that woman's name

my father was hiding something unknown to me.

So, almost without realizing,

I became his secret accomplice.

A few months later,

when I least expected it,

something unusual happened.

I discovered that Irene Rios did exist.

It was on a winter afternoon, just after school.

Do you have the program?

You know it's not permitted?

Yes, I know.

Here you are.

-Who is Irene Rios? -Who?

Irene Rios, she's in this movie.

Yes, here she is, you're right.

Is she the blonde or the brunette?

Carmencita Alonso is the brunette,

so Irene Rios must be the blonde.

When does the movie finish?

In half an hour.

-Well, goodbye. -Goodbye.

You!

Yes, me!

Are you surprised?

I thought that...

Go on, continue.

I dare you to say everything!

You're wrong. It’s not what you think.

You thought I was dead.

No, that's not true.

I swear.

Don't swear, God can hear you.

You're such a fool.

It’s true, I am a fool.

That's why I love you.

Give me a light.

Well, why are you here?

I go on in a minute, I’ve got no time.

I wanted to say goodbye.

You're leaving?

No, I'm not.

But you are.

What are you saying?

You're crazy.

That's true,

I’m crazy.

I was listening for a moment at the door.

I heard you sing our song.

We could've been so happy.

Happy?

Yes, happy!

I never knew what that meant.

How I loved her!

Dear Laura,

I’m sure you'll be surprised to receive this letter

after such a long silence.

But I’ve just seen how a film lover

shot you twice and sent you to the otherworld.

Yes,

I know that what happens in movies isn't real

but I’m still hopelessly superstitious

and I want to see if you're still here

on earth,

even if it's just slinking around

with the stage name that you chose.

By the way,

your killer wasn't bad

but the star and her leading man were terrible.

Since I don't know where you are

I’m mailing this letter to Seville.

I’ll never forget my father's expression when,

sitting in the Cafe Oriental,

he looked up from the pages

and saw me on the other side of the window.

Now I understand that he reacted as if I’d caught him red-handed,

but at the time I didn't realize that.

I only knew

that it seemed to me he'd been writing a letter.

-Julia, listen to me! -You'll wake her up!

Please, just listen!

How many times do I have to tell you

I don't want to hear about it!

If you want to go and talk to her, do it!

Do whatever you want!

Just don't tell me about it!

None of it!

That's not it.

You're wrong, Julia.

The idea I had about my father

started to change.

It was like opening my eyes and suddenly discovering

that I knew very little about him.

Dear Agustin.

Once, eight years ago,

I decided never to expect anything from you.

I was so lonely then.

Much more than you could have guessed.

It wasn't easy

but I gradually managed it.

In all that time, I haven't heard from you.

It was to be expected.

Things between us had got very difficult.

And also

there were others for whom you cared more than you did for me.

I understood.

I tried to accept it and it helped me.

Yet, I understand much less that letter of yours

that I’ve just received.

Why, Agustin, after so much time?

Why write to me?

To see if I’m still alive?

Well, yes, I am.

But what else?

I can't believe it's because of the movie magic you mention.

Magic that, if you don't know,

I had to give up more than a year ago.

I searched high and low

but I never found that place.

You remember?

The place from which you never want to return?

I wonder if that place ever really existed.

So, here I am.

Home again.

The past doesn't move me as it did before

and above all

I don't want to keep thinking about it.

I try to look ahead

and I’m afraid that,

at last,

I’ve grown up.

I worked in four movies but never got lucky.

In three of them, they sent me to the otherworld

in nasty ways:

with a clean shot,

with silk stockings and even with a straight razor.

By the way,

which way would you have chosen?

Forgive me, I was just joking.

I wasn't talking about me,

but about the femme fatale who made you pick up the pen.

Poor Irene Rios, may she rest in peace.

She can't answer you.

And I,

in doing it for her,

may have fallen into a trap without realizing it.

I do remember the past

and you with your bad jokes.

You're to blame.

The things you write.

To sum up, what do you want from me?

Perhaps you'd better not answer that question.

It’s not worth it.

Just forget about it.

I would rather you didn't write to me.

Answering you is such an effort.

Time is the most ruthless angel of justice I’ve known.

And though I’m all grown up,

sometimes,

especially at night,

I’m afraid.

Agustin!

That was the first time Dad left in the middle of the night

without a word to anyone.

It’s time!

The train's leaving!

He came back in the morning.

No one heard him come in,

he must have used the back door,

secretively,

so as not to wake us.

-Mom? -What?

What's wrong with Dad?

Why are you asking?

He's acting strange.

Haven't you noticed?

Yes.

A little.

Ever since he left home he's been like that.

He didn't leave.

Estrella, the things you say...

It’s true, he left.

Don't say that, you hear me?

Anyway,

what do you know?

I do know.

And so do you.

Estrella!

From that day on,

my father never used the pendulum again.

One afternoon,

tired of the atmosphere at home,

I wanted to protest in my own way.

I hid under a bed,

determined not to come out.

When they missed me

my mother and Casilda looked everywhere for me.

Estrella!

From my hiding place,

I challenged them with my silence.

I could tell that they were getting more worried.

Estrella!

Little by little,

night began to fall.

Estrella!

I knew my father was at home.

I waited the whole time for him to call me

but he never did.

He responded to my silence

with his own.

And I suddenly understood

that he was playing my game,

accepting my challenge,

to show me that his pain

was much greater than mine.

-Estrella. -What?

-Why are you crying? -Because I like doing it!

I started wishing with all my heart

that I could grow

and suddenly be an adult

so I could get far away from there.

I grew up more or less like everyone else,

getting used to being alone

and to not thinking too much about happiness.

Dearest Estrella,

Your letter was lovely.

I’ve read it so many times.

Is everything you wrote true?

I wish I could see you here some day.

I won't recognize you!

In the photo I’ve included

your grandma and I are in Rome,

when we went to see the Pope.

Isn't it pretty?

Lots of hugs to everyone,

and for you, a big kiss from me!

The TV will soon be here.

I will sing for you and you will see me too.

Dress me up nicely, Mom,

dress me up nicely!

Dress me up, I’m going to be on TV.

Hi, what's to eat?

Soup and fried fish.

Always the same food.

What do you expect, the way your mom is?

-She didn't get up? -No.

Did you see what they painted on the wall?

No.

What did they paint?

Again?

Again.

Don't laugh, it's not funny.

I know who did it.

So do I.

How are you?

Well, you know, the same.

I thought I’d be able to get up, but I got dizzy.

Have you eaten?

No. Not yet.

Don't wait for Dad.

He'll be late.

Estrella!

-What? -The phone!

Will you pick this up for me from the pharmacy?

Don't forget.

I hardly slept last night.

-Estrella! -Coming!

Casilda will give you the money.

Who is it?

Who do you think? The same guy.

"El Carioco."

-Tell him I’m not here. -You tell him!

Go away!

What do you want?

Nothing, just talk to you.

This morning I waited for an hour.

-Where did you go? -I went the other way.

Why?

Weren't we going to meet?

I know we said we'd meet but...

You didn't want to see me, huh?

No.

Why not?

Because I’m sick of you,

and all the stuff you keep writing on the walls.

Who do you think you are?

Me? Whoever you want me to be.

You invite me to the movies,

you take me to the gardens,

you give me a kiss...

So what?

What do you mean, so what?

Estrella, you've got me all wrong!

You don't know me.

I’m capable of doing anything.

You know why the girls call me "El Carioco"?

If you don't, you'll find out soon!

I LOVE YOU

-Hi. -You're leaving already?

If not, I’ll be late.

Bye.

This is from Milagros.

You can read it.

After school,

when the lights came on

and there was still a faint glow in the sky

I liked to walk alone, in no hurry,

through the streets of the city.

I never forgot Irene Rios.

I kept looking for her on the movie posters.

But I never found her again.

It was if the earth had swallowed her up.

I often passed by a photography studio.

In the window,

among the photos of couples, communions and soldiers,

was my portrait.

Can you give me a light?

Thanks.

Most nights, before going to sleep,

I would write in my diary.

Today when I reread the pages from those days

I see just how much I’d accepted

my father's crises

as an irremediable fact of daily life.

Maybe that's why

there's nothing in it

that warned of what would happen later.

Although my father did something then

he had never done before.

He came to pick me up one day after school

and took me to lunch at the Grand Hotel.

That autumn day, a wedding was being celebrated

in one of the hotel salons.

Hurrah for the band!

Hurrah for the wedding!

Hurrah for the bride and the groom!

-I saw you this morning. -Where?

You walked past the Oriental with a boy.

Oh, yeah... Miguel.

They call him "El Carioco." He's a little crazy.

Is he dangerous?

No.

He just writes on the walls.

Oh, yes.

I think I’ve seen one of his paintings.

He's so annoying!

Is it true what he wrote?

I don't know.

He says so.

But I think he does it to get attention.

But it's nice, isn't it?

Wanting attention?

Telling the world

what you think.

Well, it depends...

I’d like to be able to.

Why don't you?

Because I’m not "El Carioco."

You realize we never talk seriously?

And it's my fault, right?

I guess so.

Mind if I order another drink?

Go ahead.

Why do you drink so much?

You're telling me off?

No, it's just a question.

Here's your coffee

and cognac.

Thank you.

-Why did you bring me here? -I don't know.

I suddenly thought you'd like it.

I do. But why else?

I wanted to make peace with you.

-But we haven't... -I know, this time we didn't fight.

But...

The other night when you got back late

I don't think I behaved well.

-You don't want to ask me anything? -No.

But I would like to ask you so many things.

Okay.

Ask away.

-No, it's okay. -No, no, ask me.

There's one thing,

maybe it's silly,

that I always wanted to ask but never had the nerve:

Who was Irene Rios?

Irene Rios?

The artist.

-You knew her, didn't you? -No.

I knew a woman who was a lot like her.

But I didn't know Irene Rios.

What a letdown.

So...

Why did you write her name so many times?

Did I do that?

Yes, don't you remember?

No.

I do remember.

Once I found a piece of paper,

one of your envelopes,

on which you'd written her name over and over.

It seemed a bit strange.

I didn't know who she was.

Neither did Mom.

Then one day I saw her name on a movie poster.

"Flower in the Shadows"

I saw it.

Was it good?

I left before it finished.

I know.

That afternoon I was walking by the cinema

and I saw your motorbike.

So I thought: "I bet he's inside".

I waited for you outside,

hiding.

It was so cold.

I saw you walk out

and I followed you down the street

until you went into the Cafe Oriental.

I could see you were writing a letter.

Then I knocked on the window.

You remember? You took me home on your motorbike.

That's right.

I’ll be right back.

-Would you like anything else? -No, thank you.

How's the wedding?

Like all the others.

Keep it.

Thank you.

I have to go.

-Now? -It’s time.

What class do you have?

French.

Why don't you put it off?

You want me to skip class?

-Yes. -Really?

Yes.

I don't understand you.

When you were this high,

didn't you understand me then?

Dad, you can't compare.

Listen.

You remember that paso doble?

You don't remember.

"En el mundo".

We danced it together.

Yes.

The day of my First Communion.

I’m going.

Are you staying?

-Yes. -Bye.

Be careful with "El Carioco".

I left him there sitting by the window,

listening to that old paso doble,

alone,

left to his fate.

Could I have done more for him than I did at that moment?

I always ask myself that.

Because that was the last time I spoke to him.

Before leaving the house

he emptied his pockets.

Among the things he left in a drawer

was a small telephone receipt.

That's how I found out

that the last night of his life

my father had called the south,

to a number I didn't recognize.

I took that piece of paper

and kept it without telling anyone.

Estrella!

Why are you sleeping up here?

I was cold.

Why don't you go to your bed?

It’s not made.

-Come on. I’ll make it for you. -Leave it.

It won't take a second.

A few days later, I got sick.

Alone, shut away in my bedroom

the hours were interminable.

Everything's always on the floor!

-What time is it? -Almost noon.

-I’m getting up. -Don't you dare!

You know what your mother said.

-But I’m better! -Stay there and don't move!

Milagros' voice came from the south to help me.

Once she found out what happened

it didn't take much for her to convince my mother

to let me spend some time down there to recuperate.

She had good reasons.

I needed a change of climate for my health.

And also, neither she nor Grandma Rosario

had seen me in a long time.

The night before I left

I could hardly sleep.

Estrella, the taxi is here!

Although I didn't show it

I was very nervous

because, at last,

I was going to see the south.