Original subtitles

You don't speak Spanish, right?

Are you ready?

Everything is cool?

- Yes. - Bueno.

Good.

Use your imagination and your skills.

Everything is subjective. Whatever that means.

Don't elaborate.

He who think he's bigger than the rest must go to the cemetery.

There he will see what life really is.

It's a handful of dust.

La vida no vale nada.

Diamonds are a girl's best friend.

- Pay attention. - I am paying attention.

Give him the keys.

Go to the towers. Then go to the café.

Wait a couple of days, and watch for the violin.

The universe has no centre and no edges.

Reality is arbitrary.

You want me to translate that? I don't fucking get it.

Forget it.

He gets it.

Bon voyage.

What can I get you?

Er... two espressos in separate cups.

- Café doble? - No. Two espressos in separate cups.

- Here you are, sir. - No. I said two espressos.

Dos espressos. Dos espressos. In separate cups.

Here you go. Two espressos... in separate cups.

The customer is always right.

Señor?

Dos espressos in separate cups.

- Two espressos in separate cups. - Sí.

Gracias.

You don't speak Spanish, right?

No.

It's very loud here.

Very loud.

Are you interested in music, by any chance?

I believe that musical instruments,

especially those made out of wood,

cellos, violins, guitars,

I believe that they resonate, musically, even when they're not being played.

They have a memory.

Every note that's ever been played on them...

...is still inside them...

...resonating in the molecules of the wood.

I guess, like everything, it's just a matter of perception, no?

What else?

Wait with the girl. She's a criss-cross.

You don't speak Spanish, right?

No.

Yeah... you left your bag unprotected.

- There's nothing in it. - Oh...

Ah...

Do you like my ass?

Yes.

So, what's wrong?

You don't like sex?

Never while I'm working.

Really?

How can you stand it?

Hola.

Do you like my raincoat?

Yes.

So, you don't like mobiles, either.

No guns...

...no mobiles...

...no sex.

You don't speak Spanish, right?

No.

Hola.

- Something for the señorita? - A bottle of water, please.

- ...for the beautiful señorita. - Gracias.

"Suspicion"...

Hitchcock.

Are you interested in films, by any chance?

I like really old films.

You can really see what the world looked like

thirty, fifty, a hundred years ago.

You know, the clothes, the telephones, the trains...

...the way people smoked cigarettes...

...the little details of life.

The best films are like dreams you're never sure you've really had.

I have this image in my head of a room full of sand.

And a bird flies towards me and dips its wing into the sand.

And I honestly have no idea whether this image came from a dream or a film.

Sometimes I like it in films when people just sit there, not saying anything.

Oh... yes.

Diamonds are a girl's best friend.

Have you seen "The Lady from Shanghai", Orson Welles?

That one makes no sense.

Rita Hayworth as a blonde. I think it's the only film she's ever a blonde in.

It's like a game.

Deception.

Glamour.

A shootout with shattered mirrors.

She dies in the end.

So, I finally have what you need.

Do you have what I need?

That leaves one more night for our beautiful love story.

Do you like Schubert, by any chance?

I love him.

He died when he was...

...31 years old.

Something like that.

You don't speak Spanish, right?

No.

Are you interested in science, by any chance?

I'm interested in molecules.

The Sufis say

each one of us is a planet spinning in ecstasy.

But I say

each one of us is a set of shifting molecules.

Spinning in ecstasy.

In the near future,

worn out things will be made new again by reconfiguring their molecules.

A pair of shoes. Tires.

Molecular detection will also allow

the determination of an object's physical history.

This match box, for example.

Its collection of molecules could indicate everywhere it's ever been.

They could do it with your clothes.

Or... even with your skin, for that matter.

The universe has no centre and no edges.

Wait three days until you see the bread.

The guitar will find you.

Among us, there are those who are not among us.

I'm among no one.

Excuse me. Are you an American gangster?

No.

He says he's not.

Maybe he's just saying that.

We're closed.

We're not open now, they're just rehearsing something.

You don't speak Spanish, right?

Take a seat.

♪ He who thinks he's bigger than the rest

♪ He must go to the cemetery

♪ There he will see What the world really is

♪ There he will see What the world really is

♪ It is a handful of dirt

♪ He who thinks he's bigger than the rest

You don't speak Spanish, right?

No. I don't speak Spanish, either.

Except maybe when I'm in Spain.

Would one still call those "bohemians"?

My grandfather was Bohemian.

You know, in the Prague sense.

I strongly doubt that he would've had any bloody sympathy

for those kinds of bohemians.

And then, of course, they are often the true artists, are they not?

Are you interested in art, by any chance?

Maybe painting, perhaps?

Yes.

Well, as we were discussing,

the derivation of the usage of bohemian

in reference to artists or artistic types, wasn't that it?

I don't know the origin, exactly.

Of course, there's Puccini's opera, "La Bohème".

That's based on the French book, "Scènes de la vie de bohème".

Probably published mid-19th century.

There was an oddly beautiful...

...Finnish film some years ago based on the book.

But where the use of bohemian, or bohème in French,

came from to begin with... I can only speculate.

Oh...

Yes, of course. I imagine you have, er... things to do.

The Mexican will find you, he has the driver.

Oh, yes...

...the driver.

You do know...

...that this guitar was owned and played by Manuel el Sevillano.

It was recorded on a wax cylinder in the 1920s, believe it or not.

God only knows whatever happened to that.

Been nice talking with you.

As they say, "La vida no vale nada."

A LONELY PLACE

Los Americanos!

You don't speak Spanish, right?

I heard you have a very beautiful black girlfriend.

She's asleep.

Son of a bitch.

She's crazy beautiful.

So beautiful.

The old men in my village used to say,

"Everything changes by the colour of the glass you see it through."

Nothing is true.

Everything's imagined.

Do you notice reflections?

For me, sometimes the reflection is far more present

than the thing being reflected.

Are you interested in hallucinations, by any chance?

Have you ever tried peyote?

Do you know who the Huicholes are?

They wear mirrors around their necks.

And they play violins. Handmade violins.

With only one string.

I'm going to call the driver.

No mobiles.

Cool.

Okay, I get it, I get it...

It's cool.

"LIFE IS WORTHLESS"

Go ahead, get in, get in.

Okay, cool. Crazy. Cool.

No mobiles.

Go!

Those who think they're bigger than the rest...

should go to the cemetery.

There, they will see what life really is.

These fucking Spanish assholes.

Jesus Christ! Addington!

Fucking sound-proof door.

How the fuck did you get in here?

I used my imagination.

Is this your twisted idea of revenge for something?

No. Revenge is useless.

Addington! Security! Goddamn it!

What is your fucking agenda here?

You people don't understand

a fucking thing about how the world really works.

I understand.

But I understand subjectively.

That's fucking nonsense.

Your sick minds have been polluted with crap.

Your music, movies... science.

Fucking bohemians on hallucinogenic drugs.

All that shit has poisoned you.

And it has nothing to do with the real world.

And I suppose you believe that by eliminating me,

you will eliminate control over some fucking artificial reality.

Reality is arbitrary.

Fuck you.

♪ He who thinks he's bigger than the rest

♪ He must go to the cemetery

♪ There, he will see What the world really is

♪ He will see What the world really is

♪ It is a handful of dirt

♪ He who thinks he's bigger than the rest

♪ He must go to the cemetery ♪