All language subtitles for La.revolución.de.las.musas.2024.1080p.WEB.H264-DJT

CLIO, THE MUSE OF HISTORY,
IS AS THOROUGHLY INFECTED WITH LIES

AS A STREET WHORE WITH SYPHILIS.
ARTHUR SCHOPENHAUER

I know a magic formula
to get everyone to look at you

while staying completely invisible.

You just have to take off your clothes,

lie on some sharp stones,

force a wry smile

as if to say: "Ooh, how comfortable!",

then suspend yourself on the wall

of one of the most iconic museums
in your city.

And do that for centuries.

Until now.

Okay, Yaiza, I'm...

Here.

Yai, is that good?

Try positioning yourself on that column.

- Okay.
- Like Juno.

Here.

That's better.

Yeah? Okay.

Okay, let me explain.

Do you remember
what we said the other day?

I'm thinking that we could change
the protagonist's name.

- Okay.
- Right?

I think... Well, I've been researching

and there's one of the muses
from Greek mythology,

there are like nine of them.

One is the muse of history.

Well, of history and epic poetry,

and her name is Clio, okay?

But what caught my attention a bit
is that...

Her job inspired

those who wrote history, right?

So we wouldn't forget

the important facts
and characters, right?

- The ones worthy of being remembered.
- Okay.

Does that convince you?

- I'm convinced.
- Yes.

I think...

He will understand our idea a bit.

Born in Barcelona.

What a surprise.
I thought she was from Madrid. Okay.

She was in an artistic environment
from a very young age

and her vocation
as an actress flourished early.

Could you...

Read it, right?

Or could you take part?

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

As...

The leading actress
and protagonist of our movie.

Yes, as the protagonist.

- Here it is.
- Yeah.

The light is beautiful.

- I like it.
- Thank you.

Okay.

Ah.

By the way... This was at the door.

Thanks.

Okay...

Hey, before we start,

let's chat a bit before
my intern arrives.

- Sure.
- Come here.

Come here.

Sit by my side, honey.

- I sense you're a bit nervous.
- No.

I think you are.

- No.
- Look.

I have to confess something.

Art is not easy for everyone
to understand.

I called you specifically because...

I had a model.

But she was kind of shy.
I mean she looked like a goddess.

- A true muse.
- Yeah.

A beauty, but what can you do?
She was...

Dry.

And very shy.

I did what I could to get her out
of that orthodox mentality,

but I didn't succeed.

- Oh well.
- And now I need someone...

Who isn't bound by those conventions.

Yeah.

I know many girls like you, Clio.

And it seems...

You're doing quite well.

- Yes, I can't complain.
- You...

Have something.

- I don't know...
- Maybe it's your blue hair.

You remind me of a puffer fish.

Guys, when I say action, we start.

What we talked about, remember?
Platonic onanism.

I need you
to immerse yourself in his being.

Is that clear?

Perfect.

Action.

- Everything okay?
- Yes.

- If you need anything, let me know.
- Same.

Anything is possible in the world of art

and anyone who thinks
otherwise is wrong.

Where else would they pay for your work

with a chocolate milk?

Having a drink with a friend,
I explained that we were making a movie

where Picasso came back to life
in the 21st century.

"That's not fair. You'll judge him
with your modern perspective."

We don't treat women that way now.

"You're overdoing it, right?"

I felt awful,

like a bad person
or worse, a bad filmmaker.

Until one amazing day,

a man came by who I made
my personal Pablo.

The story goes like this:

One day, my Pablo sees my Instagram
and sends me a message,

because he is an artist

and is working on something,
obviously artistic,

very very artistic,

and thinks I could be a good fit.

His new project is called
Platonic Onanism,

and he thinks
pleasuring myself in front of a camera

will be nice and easy for me.

He kindly invites me to work for free

and asks to talk further
over a chocolate milk,

a joint, a glass of wine or whatever.

I said no, very kindly, of course.

And that's how I realized
that my friend was wrong

and that, like Franco,

Picasso is still alive.

Art needs you to look, not talk.

Enjoy, ladies and gentlemen,

and let the art be.

Clio!

You didn't tell me you were coming!
What a blue delight to have you here!

That's what I wanted to talk about.
Yes, and me.

I'm taking you to Paris.

This life is for living. Say yes.

What? No!
I've come to talk about the videos.

Light installation, darling.

- Light installation.
- Whatever.

I don't see my name anywhere

and you haven't tagged me on Instagram.

No, thanks.

Look. We agreed this would be
a collaboration,

but you're the only one benefiting.

Since you didn't pay me.

No, now is not the time.
Come on, what about the trip?

I think yes.

Then that's great!

No, I mean it is time to talk.

Clio, don't you realize
that there's no one like you here?

Excuse me?

What the fuck do you mean?

I mean that only important
people come here.

If I wanted to do
my exhibition in a brothel,

then I would have called you.

Or do you think you're the only woman
who knows how to undress?

No. No, I didn't mean to offend you.

You...

Are a very special little animal.

- Pablo?
- Excuse me.

Ah, Pablo is there.

Boomer asshole.

I don't know if it's boomer,

but there was once a young man
named Charles Baudelaire

who, upon seeing Apollonie Sabatier,
went mad with love.

She rejected him more than once,

but he knew that when women say no,

they sometimes mean yes.

He didn't give up.
In fact, he turned her into his muse.

In his defense, I will say
that Charles was very very poor

and wrote during a time known
as mal du siècle.

A century of depression, boredom,

the uselessness of existence
and heavy use of drugs.

In short, he was a
young man in a society

with no means of developing himself.

I even pity him.

In the middle of the night

and loneliness, or through the streets,
surrounded by crowds,

her ghost dances
like a flaming torch in the air.

Sometimes she speaks and says:

"I am beautiful
and command that for love of me"

you love only the beautiful part;

"I am the guardian angel,
the muse and the Madonna."

CHAPTER ONE APOLLONIE SABATIER

One night of love with Apollonie,

with his muse, his ideal.

Charles had done it.

But, a few days later,
he wrote a letter.

What the hell is this?

- You've got a cheek!
- Clio, what are you doing here?

My dear:
I have hateful prejudices towards women.

I don't trust them.
You have a beautiful soul,

but it's the soul of a woman.

A few days ago you were a deity,

so sure, so beautiful, so untouchable,

and now you are a woman.

- In the end you let...
- It is what it is.

- I knew it, wait...
- Wait, there's more.

Goodbye, dear. I'm a bit mad at you

because you are too attractive.

Where are you going?

Stay and get me a drink.
It's the least you can do.

Okay, okay.

Okay.

A...

A brewski.

Is that a beer?

- Yes.
- Okay...

One draft beer, please.

Listen to me.

I promise redemption.

Uh... Here.

I've written a new poem,

that talks about you and Jeanne,

my muses, the good and the bad.

It starts like this...

You, who stabbed your way
into my aching heart,

who in a rush, like a herd of demons...

- Charles, please.
- From my humiliated soul

- and your dominion...
- No, no.

No, what?

Sorry, line?

Okay, cut.

- Okay, cut.
- I don't want any more of your poetry.

- Stop writing to me.
- Okay, yes.

- Okay? Do we have it?
- Yes.

Okay, great.

The only thing is that at the moment...

Let's try at the moment
when you are reciting the poem

and she stops you.

Hold her hands to restrain her, okay?

- When she interrupts me.
- Yes.

Let's go back to when
you recite the poem.

- Okay.
- Okay. I get it.

- Okay.
- From when I pull out...

Silence, please.

- Sound?
- Come on.

Ready?

- 14-2, fifth.
- Come on.

- Noted.
- It seems...

- Frame?
- Let's go.

Pablo.

Go, go.

And... Action!

Listen to me.

I have a surprise for you.

I've written a new poem,

that talks about you and Jeanne,

my muses, the good and the bad.

And it starts like this.

You...

You, who stabbed your way
into my aching heart,

who in a rush, like a herd of demons...

Charles, please!

- From my humiliated soul you come...
- No!

- No, what?
- No.

No, what? What's wrong?

- Sorry, can we cut for a moment?
- Yes.

Cut, okay. One second.

Cut.

María...

Oh, sorry. Oops!

Nothing. Sorry!

- Are you okay?
- Yes, sorry,

I just don't understand...

Clio is the muse of Baudelaire,
of Picasso,

- of all these people, right?
- Yes.

But I don't understand
why it bothers her so much

what this kid writes
about her, I mean...

Shouldn't she not care at this point?

Violeta, the truth is,
I don't know if Apollonie cared

what they might write about her

or if it bothered her

to have helped others
make an artistic career

with her existence and personality

or that her life
ended up in fictional stories.

Maybe that only matters to me

and maybe I'm here making
a movie about the avenging aunt

and, if Apollonie came out of her grave,
she'd say:

"Hey, girl, what are you doing?
There's no need".

It's like when you break up
with your partner

and the narrative loses its truth

and you end up being
the villain of the movie.

When I still knew nothing
about Apollonie Sabatier,

I typed her name into Wikipedia.

She is defined
as a courtesan or Demi-monde.

EUPHEMISM MEANING LOVER OR PROSTITUTE
"MAINTAINED" BY A WEALTHY MAN.

I spoke with Art historians,
former professors of mine,

and there's no evidence
of her being that.

A CERTAIN KIND OF COQUETTISH WOMAN.

THE MOST ELEGANT
PROSTITUTES OF THE 1860S.

Her legacy has remained somewhat small,

behind a slippery curtain
that is difficult to pull aside.

It is believed that Apollonie
modeled for this sculpture

in a very interesting way,
which, in contrast to the norm,

the sculptor made the mold
over her naked body.

It's in the Orsay museum,

right at the entrance.

You can sit next to it,

move around it,

freely.

You can smell it,

fix your eyes on it until you see

that skin structure.

Like now.

Do you see it?

Frame?

Frame.

And...

- Action.
- From my humiliated soul...

No!

- No, what?
- I don't want any more poetry.

I want you to stop writing to me
and stop writing about me.

What are you saying?
How am I supposed to write then?

I don't know.
You're very brave on paper,

but in real life you're a loser.

A what? What's that?

It's over,
we won't see each other anymore, okay?

C'est fini. That's it.

No.

Yes.

No, no.

Yes, I'm afraid so.

Hello.

Hello.

Thanks.

You... You're a whore.

You're... You're a whore.

Wow!

Well...

Thank you.

Are you okay?

- Yes?
- Yes.

Okay.

And that guy?

What are you doing?

- No...
- It's a joke.

- It's a joke.
- Alright.

No, it's a joke! Sit down.

- Oh.
- How are you?

CHAPTER TWO VERÓNICA FRANCO

Artists like Titian and Tintoretto
were lucky to have

the most desired and well-paid
honest courtesan of their time.

I know that if Veronica Franco had been
of my generation,

she would be just as famous today,
but as a basic Gen-Z bimbo.

In 16th-century Venice, they had
poetry instead of TikTok dances,

without the boom-boom,

that shakes those butts
in ways that seem impossible.

Veronica chose her clients herself.

It is said
that once she rejected a nobleman

and the guy, all spurned,
wrote a poem that he circulated

throughout Venice,
which insulted her, saying:

Veronica, ver unica puttana,
a special kind of slut.

But she, knowing she was a whore,

responded to these verses with others,
starting a contest

of literary quality, from which
she emerged as the undisputed winner.

I think there was something about...

As prostitutes, they had greater value

than others at that time

and were a bit more respected
by those who held power at that time,

uh...

Precisely because of their level
of culture and education.

And I think what ultimately reaches us

are things that come
through powerful men.

Maybe these powerful men,
because they respected them a bit more,

felt they were more...
obviously not at their level,

but it was like "I pay
for their services,

but I can also talk
to her about poetry, philosophy.

She is a cultured woman."

So, I think that raised a bit

who these women were

and that's why we
remember Veronica Franco

and not just any girl
from Barcelona's Raval neighborhood.

Exactly.

And they also had like...

The fact that they were...
they had some culture

- or some knowledge that...
- Yes.

It surprises us a bit
because they had access

to that world of men that women,

the wives of those men or the daughters
who were going to get married,

didn't have, right?

I think that, by dedicating themselves
to prostitution,

in Veronica's case,
escaping from an abusive marriage,

gave her the...

The...

The freedom to study music, read,

a lot of things that in the 16th century

women couldn't...

They didn't have access to.

And, if you call me harlot,

or want to infer that I'm not

or that among them
there are none to be praised,

what harlots have
of good, graceful, and kind

expresses in me your speaking sound.

If this was understood
by your sharp style,

to make no noise I am content

and to bow to you devoted, humble.

You will have no refuge against me,

for I am ready to face all trials

and impatiently I rush to work,

whether in the daily spoken tongue
or in whatever language you prefer,

for I am practiced in them all.

And if later you do not respond,

I will say of you that you
are greatly afraid of me

although you think yourself so brave.

I hate hairs. And I have a cat.

Maybe that mix makes me do
some weird things.

How is life when you
work with your body?

Quite normal, to be honest.

I've never had much of a problem.

If I did, I suppose,

I wouldn't be doing it, right?

For example, with my friend Gerda,
who is an artist and paints,

whenever we collaborate,
I have a great time.

And I have a good relationship
with some clients

that has gone on for ages
and I honestly enjoy it.

Some are super nice

and others are a bit more arrogant

and everything is a bit more tedious.

Pablo is... Yes.

He is one of them.

He also has a very bad temper
and I think that's

kind of shitty,
because you either adore him

or he gets mad at you
and that's almost worse.

He asked me to work exclusively for him,

which I refused, and then
something more group-orientated,

one of these videos he's making.

I don't know what it's going to
be called, but the idea was...

With all the girls from Avignon,
since he knows them all, so...

It was something with them.

REGULATIONS
SURVEILLANCE AND SANITARY SERVICE

The repugnant vice
of prostitution in this capital

has come to the attention
of this local government

and, with the aim
of reducing the sad consequences

it causes to public health,
as much as possible

I have decreed the following provisions.

It says authorities do not tolerate
prostitutes of the first kind

or vagabonds.

Prostitutes of the first kind
who are not natives of Madrid

will be taken by judicial order
to their hometowns.

When a prostitute wishes to be removed

from the prostitution registry,

she must direct a request

to the honorable civil governor,

offering proof

that she has been separated from
the life of prostitution for some time.

She observes a good manners and customs.
I love this.

The tolerated prostitute
must not be accompanied

by children over seven years old.

To keep them,
she must give up her amoral life

and under no circumstances
will exceptions be made

to what is provided in this article.

Jeez, this is strong stuff!

The tolerated prostitute will only
reside in areas of the capital

where she is expressly authorized.

Jeez, it's all

wonderful.

Clio.

Your era is a real disaster.

If only...

CHAPTER THREE LAURE

Laura waits at the school exit

to pick up two siblings

while pushing a baby stroller.

Sometimes the days are very long.

Taking care of children who aren't yours

is very poorly paid.

And it's not like she has much choice.

Just 15 years ago,

slavery was abolished in France.

Raising the next generation
of Paris' bourgeoisie.

They arrive at Place de Clichy
and she sits for a while.

She watches the older two with one eye

and with the other, the little one
dressed in immaculate white.

January 10th, 1863:

Today a painter stopped
me in the street.

He introduced himself as Édouard Manet.

He is looking for models
and offered me the job.

I'll say yes.
Finally something different.

I have known Manet's Olympia
for a long time

and I always saw only
the naked girl, Victorine.

What fascinated me about her
was the look of a prostitute,

with nothing to add humanity to her,

such as, for example, calling her
"Venus" and thus justifying her.

She is not a goddess.

She is a whore waiting
for the next client.

She supports herself without seeking
your empathy or your judgment.

She just exists, nothing more.

But I admit that I only saw her.

Laure escaped my vision

and of all those
who taught me to look at art.

They asked me about you, you know.

That's scary.

A bunch of stiff guys
from the University of Paris.

They say they are writing
a study about our Olympia.

- Oh, God!
- They hate it!

They spend all day comparing it
with that kitsch wave thing.

My God!

The thing is, they asked me about you.

They didn't know if you were,
and I quote verbatim:

Let's hear it.

An alcoholic prostitute

or an excellent artist
with great ambitions.

Wow!

- Did they really ask you that?
- Uh-huh.

And what did you say?

What was I going to say? The truth.

Both.

And what did they say?

Nothing. They just made this expression.

Anyway.

What did they say about you, Laure?

About me?

They didn't say anything.

They're more interested in the damn cat.

Laure is a name that doesn't exist.

Rehearsal!

Focus, please.

Listen, Pablo...

We start in a moment.
Do you need anything?

María. María, María.

- Tell me.
- I don't like it.

It's going to cause a moiré effect.

- What?
- The shirt.

- What?
- Look, look.

Oh. Okay, one second.

See the stripes?

It causes a moiré effect.

- See?
- Oh, okay.

Pablo, we need to do
a wardrobe change, okay?

Clapperboard.

- Frame?
- Frame.

Action!

One moment. María...

What?

Yes, I see it, I see it.

The guy has nothing
without damn stripes.

Okay, Pablo. The problem is the stripes.

Do you have something else?

I like stripes.

Yes, I know...

- Ready?
- Ready.

Action.

I am Pablo Ruiz and I am an artist.

PABLO'S WORKSHOP

I can only

draw what I feel.

I cannot paint, sculpt,
or film something

if I haven't seen it, if I haven't...
felt it.

Oh, here it is, yes.

This woman.

I drew her three times.

The third time, I dominated her.
It was clearly the best.

The other two, she dominated me.

Women devour you.

You have worked a lot
with sex workers, right?

What?

- Prostitutes?
- Oh!

Les filles publiques.

The public girls, as my wife says.

Yes, yes. I know a few, yes.

- Of course.
- Why of course?

I mean, I can see it through your work.

Oh, okay.

How is it to work with
Clio, for example?

With who?

Clio.

The girl in the videos
at the exhibition.

Lighting installation.

They aren't videos.

I mean, yeah.

One more.

Would you work with her again?

No, I don't think so.

She prefers to work with impressionists.

Édouard, I can't be here all day.

Some of us have things to do.

You must already have it.

Are you tired?

Man! We've been here for a while.

And you must already have it.

You're done, right?

Well, they are there, finishing.

Yes, but we have to put up with it.

Oh! I'm shaking, you know?

Of course!

I'm not used to it anymore.

Oh, my God!

CHAPTER FOUR
MADDALENA ANTOGNETTI

Amen.

Have you missed me, monsignor?

How could I not?

Do you want to confess to me?

What is this blasphemy?

For these matters, I have the Almighty

and our immaculate Mary.

Are you laughing at me?

- What's so funny?
- Nothing.

It's just that I thought
this was your thing.

You pray to all these women, right?

It's true.

Well, here there are only women like me.

The yellow light falls

on the most prominent buildings
from past centuries.

Lena strolls through the streets of Rome

just as the last rays of the sun fade.

She heads to Caravaggio's workshop,
trying not to be seen.

Lena observes each
of the most domestic scenes of my life.

But the original work was meant

to witness, no more no less,

the most impenetrable scenes
of the Vatican.

This painting caused a scandal

among those in the Roman Curia.

It was then when Lena,
with her Baby Jesus,

ended up in the hands
of Cardinal Scipione Borghese,

the Pope's nephew and art collector,

who managed to buy it
for less than half the amount

that had been promised
to the unfortunate artist.

Good evening. I am Juno

and this is Midnight Confessions.

Today we have with us
a very special guest,

named Maddalena Antognetti,
a courtesan based in Rome.

Thank you, you can call me Lena, Juno.
Everyone calls me that.

For those who don't know,
Lena is Caravaggio's muse.

She has appeared in many of his works

and the latest was The
Madonna of Loreto.

It caused quite a scandal, right?

Yes, to be honest. Let me explain:

The Madonna of Loreto
represents the moment

when the Madonna arrives with the child
and the contents of her house

in the town of Loreto.

Anyway, what annoys me

is that they've used
a model like me, I suppose.

It's not that I am unknown

in ecclesiastical circles.

Sorry to cut you off,
it has nothing to do with it,

but I have seen through the confessional

that you have drawn a mustache on.

- Yes. Do I suit it?
- Yes.

Excellent. I like it too.

Well, in fact, I draw it on

because they don't
let me go out at night.

So, I have to disguise myself as a man

to be able to come,

since your show is so late.

Who doesn't let you go out?

Well, if they caught me,
they could fine me.

But funniest

is that the money would go
to the convents.

What are you saying?
That's outrageous!

It's just like the taxes I pay.

That's not all these honest people do.

There is more. For example...

Uh... what was it?
I can't be in front of a church.

I can't be at the city gates

and during the day I have to wear
a yellow scarf

to distinguish me from other women.

I hate yellow, Juno.

But I prefer it to a bell.

Before I had to wear a bell
and I looked like a cat.

Do you find it funny?

Well, it's not funny, obviously.
It's serious and hard,

but it's funny the fact

that those who set these rules
are the same who... Well...

Well, yes. Say no more,

because they'll close the show
for the slightest insult.

If we know anything,
it's how to stay silent.

If whores spoke, right?

Exactly, you said it, Juno.

Well, thank you very much for coming.

Unfortunately, our time is up.

Thank you.

And I hope to have you here again
some other night

at some point.

Whenever you want, really.

Okay. How about if we listen
to Gregorian chants now?

Damn devil's device!

Sorry, sorry.

Don't cut it short again.
Sorry, I'll turn it off now.

- Damn it, Pablo.
- Hey!

Sorry, sorry.

Pablo, I can't talk now, okay?
I'm working.

If you could just stop
calling me, for...

For God's sake.

If you want to work with me,
it's very easy.

You just have to pay me.

That's it. I don't want trips
or Paris or drinks or any of that,

do you understand?

Clio, honey, first of all, calm down.

Look, I left a lens at your house

- and I have to go get it.
- A lens?

No, it's not at my house.
I haven't seen anything, sorry.

I know, I know what I have
and I left it there.

If you want,
I'll take a look later and tell you,

but I haven't seen anything.

I'm sure it's in your house

because I know what I have
and I need it to work.

- Well.
- I have to go to your house today.

Today? No. No, today is impossible.

- You can't come today. Impossible.
- Why?

I just... I just can't.

I need to go.

Fuck.

Okay, um...

If you come today,
it has to be before eight, okay?

Just a minute.

Okay, but seriously.
Before eight, not after.

I'll try, darling.

Okay, bye.

God!

Where were we?

- Here, smoke.
- Okay.

You know what will
get this party started?

What?

Don't play dumb, we already know.

Let's get this party going!

- Let's get wild!
- Come on.

Oh, it's foamy!

Let's see.

I like to share it out.

- For you.
- Thank you.

- For you.
- Wow!

Amazing. Don't tell the others.

I'll see if Abierta poses for me.

- Good luck.
- Here, spread a little love.

Sure thing.

It's hard to say no to that girl.

No, no. She's amazing.

CHAPTER FIVE
GERDA WEGENER & LILI ELBE

Someone once said: "When pigs fly"

to let us know

that there are impossible things
that will never change.

But some pigs have always flown,

although very few have dared to say it.

Gerda and Lili lived in a time

when being like them complicated things.

Even so, they never lost the passion

for parties, masks and costumes,

playing at being other people,

painting...

Gerda paints women
flirting with other women

in celebrations under the sea

or with swans as witnesses
to wild desires.

That's crazy.

My God!

Come on, Lili, Clio! Jeez!

- Let's go, my love!
- Okay, I'm coming.

That girl drives me crazy!

But first I have to pee.

I want...

That's so nice!

Okay, what's the plan?

Hey, get off.

There is no plan, right?

- I like it!
- Yes!

Let's see your pussy! It's so wet!

You know how much I love it.

They moved to Paris in the roaring '20s.

They were looking
for a less corseting place

so that Lili could be more corseted

and where Gerda could immortalize
her most irresistible muse.

Lili is almost always
in the center of Gerda's paintings,

looking majestically at those
who will suddenly appear to her later.

The muse and the artist.

Sketches that blur on the same canvas

to become one work.

A fusion between these two women
that's so organic and natural

that it's hard to say
which one is which.

Hey, babe, let me.

Oh, wow, you're getting high.

Okay, let's get serious, okay?

Hello.

- Hi!
- Who are you?

Who are you?

I am Pablo, Pablo Ruiz. I am an artist.

Ah, okay. I don't know you.

Where is Clio?

Oh, Pablo, hey!

- Babe! Pablo, the artist!
- Oh!

The super trendy one
with the cubism and all that.

- Hey, a pleasure, nice to meet you.
- Intern?

Intern! But...

- Oh, do you know Mateo?
- Of course, he's my intern.

I adore him, we met him tonight.

We're have a great party.

Hey, where is Clio?

Uh... She was around here, right?

I don't know. Let's find her.
Do you want a drink?

Come on. Of course!

Is the artist joining?

What do you think you are doing?

What do you think?

God help me!

Girls who look like you aren't artists!

- Who are you to say that?
- Drink more, please, Pablo.

What's wrong with him?
Are we not enough for you?

You don't know who you are talking to.

Should I get you a drink?
Maybe it will relax you a bit.

- Can I call you Pab?
- Don't even think about it.

- Sorry.
- I'm looking for Clio.

Will someone tell me where she is?

Sure, yes, I'll go with
you to look for her.

Look at the flamingos over there!

Hey.

I, all things considered...

This party is way too much for me.

Listen, once, I...

Was...

At a party.

And...

That eccentric Dalí...

Went into the bathroom...

With a duck!

Anyway, I... I'll tell you.

In my last exhibition,

I explore...

The essence...

Of... of the first act, you know?

The essential act, the sexual act.

So, people say that Dalí

does it better than me,

but what would that fascist know
about making love to a woman?

You make porn, nothing else.

Hey! But it's fine.

I do too.

Long live porn and sex

and women with umbrellas!

Look.

Porn?

- What?
- No, listen.

You have clients, right?

Of course!
Do you think I'm a nobody or something?

You have clients
and you work in the field of sex.

Right? Those clients buy sex and you

- give it to them.
- Yes.

You're right!

I make porn!

Now... Now I get it!

Maybe that makes you are a sex worker!

- A what?
- A sex worker.

Right? Think about it for a moment.

- A...
- You're a sex worker!

- Sex worker?
- Yes!

What do you mean a sex worker?

Of course.

No, no, Gema, no.

Gerda.

Gerda.

Clio, you're here.

I said before eight.

It must be fate!

- Clio.
- What?

I'm a sex worker.

Come on then.

EPILOGUE

This story is like many others.

An illusion hidden
in a big house called a museum.

To go in, you need a curious mind.

Each of these muses lives there.

But you have to know

that you will only find imaginary lives.

The real one belongs only to them.

Honestly... Damn it!

Mom?

No, I haven't forgotten.
How could I forget?

No, no, I...

- Where...?
- Well...

I'm getting out of the shower,
as long as it takes.

Mom, I'm out already,
I'm not going to call you under water.

Seriously. Damn it,
I haven't forgotten, I swear.

Uh... Yes.

Yes. Is it that weird
that I have a gift for my brother?

Well, I do have one.

There was a time, a world,

that looked back at its history
with its eyes closed

and a girl who, as a result,
lived the past in the present.

Time passes and few things change.

They really don't change.
I'm naked again, lying on stones.

Anyway. Sorry.

Let's keep going.

Time passes and few things change.

Everything has always been there,

you just have to look.

But really look.

- Done?
- Okay.

Okay, clapperboard.

Clapperboard.

I'll help you. The flip-flops.
One second.

Come on...

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

Why?

Is that it? Is it over?

THE MUSES' REVOLUTION

OR HOW TO POSE NAKED ON STONES

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTIONAL.

ANY RESEMBLANCE TO REALITY
IS NOT COINCIDENTAL.