All language subtitles for Shine EP02 1080p WeTV WEB-DL_English_track2_[eng]

1960, 9 years ago

You’re amazing at this.

I had a pretty incredible instructor.

I'm getting dressed first.

Um.

Come here.

Win, you go first.

I'll be leaving in an hour.

Can I have this?

What if someone saw it,

it'd be a scandal for you.

Lert

If, one day I quitted acting

what would you say?

You mean

quit being a movie star?

Yeah.

I'm starting to realize this isn't the life I want.

I want to live like normal people...

owning a house by the water,

a dog—

two, may be three...

I don't think you'll stop at three.

Come live with me, Lert.

I'm right here with you now, aren't I?

You know what I mean.

Win, are you serious?

I'm serious—

because of you.

Win,

this isn't possible.

We have to live in the real world.

You're a movie star.

Everyone knows your name.

Then we’ll go somewhere no one does.

I’d give it all up for you, Lert.

I just want you with me.

That's okay, Lert.

Maybe it's too soon for this conversation.

I'm sorry if I make you feel...

No, don't apologize.

I can wait for you, always.

Sit down, Lert.

"7 Days, No Sight of Asawin Wiswa —

Where Has the Star Gone?"

You must understand what's worth keeping

and what must be sacrificed

for the greater goal.

Don't let anything—or anyone—distract you.

I have this one remade.

It suits you better.

I never bet on the wrong guys.

People like you two, Pracha and Lert—

You both stand out,

and have the potential to rise,

maybe even reach where I am someday.

And for you Lert, there's another thing.

I want you to marry my daughter, Dhevi.

Sometimes, love is born in the brief flutter of a glance

—that fleeting moment when eyes meet.

And once they do, they can never look away.

1969, the present

When Klai Rung said that being attracted to someone

is nothing more than a fleeting infatuation,

perhaps he hadn’t yet grasped

the true weight of that emotion.

This song is telling us—

it reminds us that the courage to confront our feelings

can give us a chance at first love,

a path toward true love—

something far deeper than any love we only dare to imagine.

Some people shine when battling a blank page,

but never find the strength

to step beyond the shadow of themselves,

to face the world as it is.

We must have the audacity to take a risk,

to leave behind the safety of our familiar playgrounds,

and stop merely playing it safe.

So I, Sarasawadee,

am asking the readers—

especially you, Klai Rung;

"Are you that kind of person?"

Dear readers,

a rush without direction is not courage—

it is merely the fervor

of those unaware of where they are going.

But perhaps I am mistaken.

So allow me this self-imposed exile—

to meet the last rays of Monday’s light

in the silent corner of Kitakarn,

where endless letters linger,

threatened to become nothing more than passing words.

There I will be, dressed in black,

mourning someone’s dark utterance.

And I wish—I wish that person

would find the courage to say aloud:

"How clueless, how ignorant I have been!"

And when the final sound of time resounds in that place,

then, and only then, shall we know—

whether the answer lies upon the page,

or somewhere far beyond.

What's that dude's deal?

This analysis is fantastic.

Complete, solid data.

Who wrote it?

Some researcher from NESDC.

Great. We could get statements from both sides.

I’ll digest it

and reference it in mine.

No.

We’re not using your crap.

Your job is to digest this article—and write a new one.

Hey!

What!

Last time,

your piece on the election

got Boon exiled to Japan.

And now you’re stirring up shit about the power plants?

Everyone’s buzzing about the moon landing.

Don’t kill the mood.

But when Boon was chief editor—

Do I look like Boon to you, punk?

These two are a perfect match,

Klai Rung and Sarasawadee.

Our sales have skyrocketed.

Readers are on edge,

dying for the moment the two finally give in to it.

Meanwhile, no one gives a damn

about our hard-earned political reports.

They never even make it past the chief editor.

Ran, did your piece get axed again?

Worse. I'm just typing out whatever they dictate to me.

Fuck.

Are we journalists, or just mouthpieces dodging reality?

Keep it down. The chief might hear.

Think about it.

I'm a political photographer,

and they sent me to take pictures of a banana tree

because it grew fruit from the middle of the trunk.

Fuck.

A political reporter like me has it worse.

I’m writing about a pig that gave birth to nine piglets.

What does that tell you?

That’s why readers consume nothing but crap.

No wonder readers are glued

to the 'Enveloped in Melody' column

Klai Rung wrote this paragraph like a poet.

What's he trying to say?

Look.

Here's another one.

"meet"

"Monday"

"dressed in black"

"I wish that person would find the courage to say aloud"

"How clueless, how ignorant I have been!"

"Kitakarn"

Kitakarn Library?

Have you ordered?

No. I was waiting for you.

Sorry. I had a problem with the chief.

You know, he's so god damn—

Naran, I don't want to hear this right now.

Okay. Fine.

That's it?

What now?

You know I'm not okay.

But you just said okay,

and picked up the menu?

So,

Dao, what do you want me to do?

I don't want the same old excuses.

I've heard them a thousand times.

Would you like to order?

No / Yes

Onion soup and tenderloin steak salad for the lady,

and roast pork rice for me.

Yes, sir.

How is it? Did I get your order right?

The food is fine.

But the rest isn't.

How long have we gone over this?

I love my job.

I wasn't born into a family of bankers like you, Dao.

Being a journalist is hard, but—

Forget it.

We haven't ordered drinks.

I’ll get you a beer.

Um.

(Echoes of Euphoria)

(Closed)

I—

I kissed—

No, no, no—

This doesn't feel normal.

No, no.

Cannabis.

Move your ass. Damn it!

What's wrong with you?

Didn't everything seem fine

with the Director-General?

Gosh...

Damn it.

What did I do wrong this time?

You ditched me!

You brought me there, then ran off with those chicks

never came back.

You ditched me. Screw you!

Trin.

I'm getting worried about you.

What the hell got into you?

Did someone do something to you?

No.

No one did anything to me.

I'm leaving.

Where to?

The swimming pool.

...Oh.

Got it.

Colonel.

Your question?

Colonel,

about the Huay Kam Saeng power plants—

the ones that affect local residents at the moment—

How do you plan to address the situation?

None of these projects

are meant to create problems.

They’re designed to solve them.

All relevant departments

are working closely with the community

to improve their livelihoods.

I urge you all to stay optimistic.

Sir !

May I ask a question ?

Please go ahead.

There are concerns the concession was rushed.

Some suspect conflicts of interest—

between the army

and a private company with close ties to high-ranking generals.

Can you confirm there's no hidden arrangement?

If the press had followed this project from the start,

you’d know we’ve worked on it for years.

We’ve assessed its profitability

and ensured transparency.

If you have credible evidence of misconduct,

file for an official investigation.

You'd better go all the way,

Otherwise, your accusations are nothing

but a baseless imagination.

Right?

Thank you, sir. We'll definitely go all the way.

That Siam Daily Mail reporter—

do you want me to shut him up?

What's his name?

Naran, sir.

No, not yet.

I'll give him another chance.

There won't be a next time.

Yes, sir.

Veera.

Yes?

I'll be working late tonight. Need to clear the backlog.

Alright, sir.

Does Amporn ever complain

about you getting home late?

No, sir, she doesn't.

When are you two getting married?

Not yet, sir.

You'll be promoted to captain soon.

Her parents won't object to you then.

Let me know when the wedding is.

I'll handle the dowry.

Thank you, sir.

Oh—sir.

This morning,

Ms. Dhevi complained her eyes were itching,

so I bought the usual eye drops for her.

Bring them to her then.

You can head home after that. I'll drive myself.

Yes, sir.

Naran—

Annoying as fuck

Whoa, you seriously made me jump!

Working late again, huh?

Not tonight.

Boss is driving himself for once.

Hey, let’s grab some drinks—same spot as usual.

Can’t. Got stuff to do.

Aww, come on...

Save the guilt trip for next time, will ya?

But loads of our classmates are showing up!

Yeah, well, I’ve actually got something important.

Fine. Then show up after you’re done.

You know everyone's been whining about you never showing up.

Just be there, alright? Don’t bail again.

Alright, alright. I’ll swing by when I’m done.

Get moving. Go!

Go!

Catch you later, buddy.

Phew...

Please excuse us, young master.

Young master your ass!

Cha!

Damn it! Cha!

Cha!

Cha!

Damn it!

Why the hell aren’t you dressed?

Don't you remember

what day it is?

I don't.

I'll go back in there and check the calendar for you.

Tanwa!

In one year,

I only ask for two days.

One—your mother’s death anniversary.

Two—the family merit-making day.

Just these two days.

Can’t you act like a normal human being?

And the rest,

you can live like a street dog all you want.

You're calling me a dog now?

Tanwa! Stop right there!

Hey!

I'm telling you to stop!

Tanwa!

I said stop!

You want to reunite with your mom that much?

Sounds good!

How about now!

You're almost thirty.

Dropped out of school.

Nothing to your name.

Every day, you just burn through my money!

Is it your money?

Not really.

I'm using mom's money.

Her hard-earned money.

The only thing I borrowed from you,

and can never return

is your blood

and your surname.

I must apologize

for making you call your son a dog.

But let me be the dog that I am.

Hey!

Just let him go.

I know where he'll head to.

Yes, sir.

Kid...

Not a kid anymore.

You wanna try?

There is a room prepared for you.

Why didn’t you stay in your own room?

No, thanks.

Just that is good enough.

My hotel isn't a love motel.

Talking with Moira up here is way more fun.

I was meaning to ask you—

those things...

they seem like they don’t belong together.

They are my past.

I wore that crown

when I danced to welcome state guests.

I was sixteen.

My dancing was good enough to earn me a husband.

What about the one on the lower shelf?

That one?

It's called a betal nut case.

I bet you don’t even know what that is.

It belonged to my grandmother.

Funny thing—

After she passed,

my mother put it on a pedestral,

prayed to it like it was a sacred Buddha statue.

That's the most a minor wife can inherit.

You're not praying to it now?

Just displaying it. It gives off a sacred aura.

And that floral crown?

That one? My first husband—

the mine owner—had it made for me.

He said I was his queen.

And you know what?

When Henry, my third husband, found out,

he had a diamond tiara custom-made for me.

Any other crown you want, Moira?

Now, I'm a queen here.

I don't need anyone to give me a crown.

What's up?

I'm delivering your laundry, sir.

Bring the bill here.

What's your name?

Victor, ma'am.

Thank you, Victor.

Thank you, ma'am.

Wait.

Just a sec.

Thank you, sir.

Right...

That's why they call it motherfucker.

Excuse me.

Your eye drops, Ms. Dhevi.

Where's the colonel, Veera?

He's at work, ma'am.

He asked me to bring these to you.

The chemist mentioned that these drops

are only good for one month after being opened.

You’ll need a new bottle, even if this one isn’t finished.

Thank you.

May I change the water in the tulip vase?

The florist said

purple tulips aren’t as long-lasting as other colors.

You need to change the water often.

Adding a teapoon of sugar

and a teaspoon of vinegar to the water

should help extend their life.

Thank you, Veera.

Tanwa, play a long set tonight, alright?

Shall we start?

Let's go!

Hey Trin!

You owe me big time, man!

Why?

Because I'm your best buddy!

And... I happen to know you’re desperately deprived.

Deprived of what?

Dating, you need a date

But fret not.

That's all taken care of. By me!

But I didn’t a—

Here she comes!

This is Rose.

M.L. Rujiprapai, my cousin.

And this is...

Dr. Trin. I told you about him.

Good evening, Dr. Trin.

Good evening.

Please—

Please sit down.

Excuse me. Can we have two more wine glasses?

Uh...

Yes?

I have to excuse myself.

I need to be up early for work tomorrow.

It was nice meeting you, Rose.

I'll get going, Kom.

Thanks!

Trin!

Trin!

Oh, Tanwa.

Oh,

Trin.

What are you up to?

This. This is what I'm up to.

Why are you running from me?

Running from you? When did I run from you?

We just met, didn’t we?

We had met. This afternoon.

The elevator.

Oh.

Sorry. I'm short-sighted.

I can't see clearly.

I hardly remember anyone.

Why are you running?

Why are you running? Huh?

I'm asking you why you're running.

Sorry!

Was I high on cannabis?

No!

I wasn't high on cannabis.

(mouthing) Why are you running?

Take Rostow, an economist—

he proposed that

"the transition from an agrarian economy

to an industrialized one"

is the appropriate pathway toward economic prosperity

that could signifiantly alleviate poverty.

This framework serves as a foundational paradigm

for our national development.

We need to promote heavy industries

and invest in large-scale physical infrastructure

to support broad-based economic growth

and effectively reduce income

disparity and class stratification.

Anyone wants to share their thoughts?

I do.

Go ahead—

Mr....

Victor.

Yes, Mr. Victor.

Why do foreign-educated intellectuals

rely on Western theories to explain everyday life?

Do we really need an explanation

when we already understand the root of the problem?

We just lack the agency to change it.

You're right.

Anyone directly affected can see the issue with clarity.

But if you truly understand the problem,

why do you keep applying the same old approach

to achieve the same old results,

Mr. Victor?

We're still fighting

because the system sucks.

No—

We need reform from the ground up.

The economic system must serve all classes fairly.

And how exactly is protesting in the streets

going to solve the problem?

Without pressure from the grassroots—

do you really believe those in power would fix it?

But if we don’t address the systemic flaws at the root,

no matter how many protests we organize,

we’re only treating the symptoms, not curing the disease.

The problems will return.

And how many years will it take

for that systemic overhaul to materialize?

Ten?

Twenty?

What are those from below supposed to do in the meantime?

Say, if someone doesn't want to

become a farmer like generations before,

are they supposed to wait

until things magically get better on their own?

We don’t have the power to shift the system.

So what?

So we're just gonna stay silent?

Why don't we go out and make our demands heard?

I like what you're doing.

This is the kind of thinking that could move the country forward.

Even though we’re still running in the maze today,

at least we haven’t stopped asking questions.

We haven’t stopped searching for answers.

And we refuse to stay ignorant about social issues.

I believe the most important thing you’ll gain from university

is learning how to find your own way out of that maze.

It only matters inside this classroom, Prof.

Good bye.

Go ahead. I'll be there in a few minutes.

Alright. Come quickly.

Okay.

Student—aren’t you going to lunch?

Dr. Trin Suwannapas

That's one famous surname.

You don't seem to hide your dislike of me.

I think you’ve got me wrong.

Don't bother.

Your kind never looks below your eye level anyway.

Allow me to give you a personal lesson.

Please,

Professor.

I'm an economist,

But I don’t believe it’s fair

to judge people by their economic status.

You seem like a rational kid.

But don’t you think labeling the rich as bad,

the poor as good—

that’s just as unfair?

No.

But what can I do? This country isn’t fair to begin with.

Please excuse me.

Sorry.

I wasn’t paying close enough attention.

I’ll shine your shoes again—if I ever get the chance.

Where's Claire?

Where's Claire!?

She was killed.

She's dead.

What? How did it happen?

Why didn't you protect her?

How could this happen?

Wasn't she your girlfriend? It was your job to keep her safe!

Stop. Stop. We're leaving. We're leaving.

You're not the only one who lost her, okay?

(Kitakarn Library)

I have an appointment with someone.

The library is closing.

Hey.

Must I say it out loud?

Pardon?

How clueless,

how ignorant I have been!

Okay.

I'm sorry. I must leave.

when the final sound of time resounds in that place...

Am I too early?

(Closed)

Why did I even come here?

What an idiot!

Wait!

So what now—kill me to shut me up?

I'll scream!

Not bad.

I’m impressed.

Sarasawadee is witty enough

to know that was a coded message for a meeting.

Sorry to break it to you,

but that's not the least bit witty.

As a matter of fact, It's too painfully obvious.

You're a powerful colonel.

I expected something more creative from you.

This is my private library.

How convenient—

a secret place for a blind date.

Don't come any closer!

Help! Help!

Help! Help!

Stop! Saras—

Damn it. Why pick such a difficult name!

NARAN

I'm Klai Rung.

Pleased to meet you in person.

I'm,

SA-RA-SA-WA-DEE,

not pleased at all.

You sure?

Aha,

Sure!

Don't tease me.

I'm not teasing you.

Lyrics by...

Kasem Cheunpradit

Music by...

Saman Kanchanapalin

Not bad.

Adapted from a Thai classical song—

"Lingering on my mind," Moderato.

I said it first.

Thought you're only into Western songs.

I'm Thai.

I'm a true patriot, sir.

Now let go of my hand.

No.

I said no.

Don't...

Mr. Klai Rung, I'm warning you.

And what are you going to do?