Original subtitles

You can't keep working us like this.

Hey.

They thought they could beat us into silence, but they're wrong.

-They're dead wrong! -That's right!

We're gonna make those gringos give us what we deserve,

and we're doing it the legal way.

We're gonna give them a petition of demands.

Yeah!

Fellas, please let us explain.

It's a document we'll send to the company, where we'll list the changes

they need to make if they want us to keep working.

Yeah!

We can't keep cutting and packing bananas all week long.

Even the priest says Sunday is for resting.

-Boys, we all agree on that. -We need a day off!

Whether you use a day off to honor God or the devil doesn't matter.

But we have a right to our Sundays!

I'm sick of getting paid in these stupid vouchers.

Hey, come on, settle down.

Everyone gets a turn to speak, but we need to go one by one.

A hundred workers can't share one broken toilet!

It's not right!

We need real money in our pockets to spend on what we want!

That's right! We need real pay!

We need bigger barracks! Jos� Arcadio, we don't fit anymore!

Look, is Macondo ours, or is it going to the gringos?

No!

The town belongs to our people.

LIST OF DEMANDS

Write these things down, man. We need safe work conditions.

No more canned stuff!

We wanna buy freely!

-We need better living spaces! -And real medicine!

We can't live in those quarters!

All right, fellas.

And lastly, we demand eight-hour work days,

-Eight hours to rest, and eight to study. -Yeah.

Because a well-rested and educated worker is more productive.

Give us what we want! Only eight hours!

Only eight hours! Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

Only eight hours! Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF SOLITUDE

Meme lost all sleep and appetite,

consumed by the anxiety of sinking

into the numbing smell of oil scrubbed with lye

that clung to Mauricio Babilonia.

She's not leaving this house as long as that mechanic is in Macondo.

She's a teenager. You're making a mountain out of a molehill.

-They're corrupting your daughter. -Nobody's corrupting anyone!

Kissing in a theater!

For the love of God.

So you've got a boyfriend?

Are you in love?

You know you can tell me anything, sweetheart.

Look, I don't have a boyfriend, I'm not in love,

and I wasn't kissing anybody in the theater.

I really was alone.

I was gonna go to the movies with Patricia, but she never showed.

And besides, the only ones kissing were the couple in the movie.

But since Mom's never been to the pictures, she got confused.

Your mother is crazy.

She sees what she wants to see.

You have to help me.

Why don't you take me to live with you and Petra?

I take it back. You're the crazy one.

Everything will be all right.

But just a word of advice.

Try not to provoke her.

I love you.

Love you more.

Get some rest.

Your daughter is manipulating you. I am certain of what I saw.

Yes, right away. I'll send a copy of the documents.

Thank you.

Foreman Buend�a.

Pleasure, sir.

Where is Mr. Brown?

Mr. Brown's not here at the moment.

He took the whole week off to tend to personal matters.

But tell us how we can be of service.

We came to deliver this petition of demands.

I am terribly sorry, but we're unable to accept any documents

that have not personally been signed by him.

It's company policy.

He's not permitting visitors, Buend�a.

Well, we're not here for a visit.

Tell Mr. Brown

that the workers' representatives stopped by,

and we're gonna need him to sign these papers.

He's not here. He's traveling.

I'm gonna ask you to leave now.

-Step aside. -We didn't come to cause trouble.

-Clear the area. Come on. -Let's go.

All right. We're leaving. We're not violent. Come on.

This is private property.

-Calm down. -I said, leave.

You don't have to get forceful with us.

-Mr. Brown is not here. -We're leaving.

-Cesa. -Jos� Arcadio.

I need a favor.

Where is Mr. Brown?

He's with the French girls.

God bless you.

Fran�oise, hey.

No, no, no, no, no.

I need your help.

Love is not to be interrupted.

My business isn't that unethical.

One whiskey, ma ch�rie.

Listen, it's for the future of the workers.

Swear to God, Fran�oise.

Mr. Brown.

What's this? What is this?

You know French women can get creative, huh?

If you're satisfied with my service, I need you to sign here. All right?

-Sign here? -Mm-hmm.

Here you go.

That's been signed by more than 50 workers and Mr. Brown.

Sorry, what workers are you referring to exactly?

The men who work the plantations.

Same ones who plant, cut, and pack the bananas.

Those are not company employees.

They are day laborers who are paid by the hour.

That's the exact same thing.

No.

Gentlemen, only those who have signed a contract

with the United Fruit Company are employees.

Did you sign a contract?

Did you?

You?

Once you show us your signed contracts,

we would be happy to look over your petition of demands.

In the meantime, any grievances should be brought to your foreman here.

-We should get going. -Excuse us.

It was there that the illusionists of the law

proved that the workers' claims had no validity whatsoever

simply because the banana company did not currently have,

nor had they ever had,

nor would they ever have employees in its service

since it recruited them only on a temporary basis.

And in a solemn public decree, the workers were declared nonexistent.

Those bastards. They're fucking crooks.

Sh!

Hey, keep a lookout.

Those are good.

Bring that over here.

The cans. The ones in the back.

Got enough here for everybody.

Pass it back.

Brothers, United is saying we're not really their employees,

and they refuse to talk to us.

Listen. Listen to this.

Starting now,

they're gonna have to listen to us as a united front!

And as a union,

we're gonna fight for our rights once and for all!

-Yeah! -We're sick of this!

-We're done! -We're not gonna stop!

With the same impulsive determination

with which he established a senseless shipping company,

Jos� Arcadio Segundo resigned from his position as a foreman

at the banana company�

Hey, brothers!

�and sided with the workers.

We're gonna file a complaint against the company

because they pay with vouchers that can only be redeemed

at their commissary.

Did you know they send shiploads of bananas

off to the United States,

then fill the empty ships with trash and make us buy it and eat it?

Our hunger is serving the interest of the United Fruit Company!

We have had enough of this! Give us peace!

Sign for peace! Sign for peace!

Sign for peace! Sign for peace!

Sign for peace! Sign for peace!

-Quiet down! Enough! No more! -Sign for peace!

-What are you doing? -Sign for peace!

-Sign for peace! -Step aside, I said!

-Don't push me! -We have rights!

Sign for peace!

Sign for peace!

My darling son,

I'm glad to hear that your clerical studies are going well.

My pregnancy has been a blessing for the entire family.

We are happy.

Your father showers me with care,

and your sister, Renata, delights me with her virtuous music.

Grandma �rsula asks every day when you're going to take your vows.

She can't wait to see you become a priest.

Your father, your sister, and I pray the rosary for you

every single night.

CERTIFICATE OF SACRED MUSIC CLAVICHORD

What happened?

Nothing.

Not being allowed out is no excuse to lounge around in your pajamas.

So get dressed,

make yourself useful, and clean this rat's nest.

I know, eventually, you'll understand and appreciate what I do for you, Renata.

Gentlemen!

Sorry for being late.

I was told this was the new union headquarters.

Open up my office, man.

-Welcome, welcome. -Hey, foreman.

How you doing? Come in, fellas.

-Hey, brother. -Make yourselves comfortable.

There's more room here. It's cooler than the barracks.

If you think You're a fighting bull

Then here I am�

Many of the workers who protested

were taken from their homes and sent to jail.

Others got themselves arrested in solidarity.

Hey! Welcome, brothers!

I want my Sunday!

-Yes! -Yeah!

And if they silence me

I'll sing with my drum�

We need to tell everyone that, together, we will succeed.

-Nobody should be working. Nobody. -True.

We're not gonna starve to death.

Mm.

What are you doing in those sandals, child?

You're bathing at this time of day?

Yes. I just wanted a moment to cool down.

Hmm. Hmm.

Watch out for the scorpions.

-They come out at dusk, hmm? -Mm-hmm.

Renata? What are you doing? It's been over an hour.

For God's sake.

At least leave me alone while I'm in the bathroom.

What are you doing?

These moths. They're known to bring in bad luck.

They're a plague. I don't know how you put up with them.

Mr. Brown is not gonna be happy.

Look at 'em. There's too many to hold here.

The cells are overflowing, and we can't keep feeding them all.

If you can find a bigger jail, then I'll put them wherever you want.

You'll get no complaints from me.

So now we will suspend all labor

until this company recognizes us as employees

and agrees to negotiate with our union.

In the meantime,

may the Holy Spirit perform the miracle of cutting and packing bananas for them.

Hey, maybe the spirit will get a contract.

-Workers united will never fall! -Good work.

United!

The success of this endeavor,

along with others that followed in the months ahead,

brought the colorless Jos� Arcadio Segundo out of anonymity.

And before long,

he was being denounced as the agent of an international conspiracy

against public order.

The company workers abandoned the plantations half-finished,

and the fruit rotted where it hung.

-That's good. Thanks. -Hey, thank you for your support.

Welcome, my friend. Your name and signature, please.

Octavio Gonz�lez, sir.

Twenty-three, two years washing bananas and one counting them.

Welcome, brother. Thank you for joining us.

Gregorio Fontal. I've been working for the company for five years.

-How many family members? -Six.

-Can you sign your name? -Yes, boss.

Welcome.

Jos� Mart�nez, 45 years old.

-Three years on the job. -Thanks so much.

Antonio Avenda�o.

Single, 17 years old.

Joaqu�n Fern�ndez, five children.

�all of this blood and guts, and I said, "Hey, General! General! General!"

-"Permission to go to the bathroom." -Wait. First you said there were ten.

Now you're saying it was 25?

-What are you doing? -Yeah, cut the shit.

I think there's a big hole in that story, pal.

But I swear, there were many more.

I can't remember exactly how many.

But I swear, there were more, and they were--

NATIONAL POLICE

All right, let's negotiate.

If you manage to calm this mob of communists,

I'll make a few concessions.

What concessions?

Well, pay increases, rest days, contracts�

But only for you and the most rebellious ones of the lot.

Nobody else.

I don't want anything to do with that ridiculous union

you and your little friends invented.

For Christ's sake.

The only negotiation

that we will make with your dirty company

and the vultures that manage it

is your full compliance with the entire list of our demands.

Goddamn it.

You are just as naive and pathetic as your uncle, the colonel, was.

You won't buy us off with crumbs.

We will kneel before no one. You got that?

Just like my uncle, Colonel Aureliano Buend�a.

Let's go!

Hmm.

DEATH TO ANARCHISTS

How many were there? What did you see?

No, I didn't see anything.

This is the last thing I needed. An anarchist in this family.

I'm not going to accept this.

My brother is not an anarchist.

That was some drunk shooting into the air.

I don't care. I want nothing to do with workers' protests.

You need to tell him to leave this house.

You're crazy if you think that I'm going to tell my brother

that he has to leave his own house.

Right.

Why would you care about what's happening in this house?

You practically live with your concubine anyway.

I was already thinking of leaving.

Best to wait for things to cool down a bit.

It feels just like the days of the colonel's revolution again.

It's as if time continues going around in circles.

Here you go.

Keep your eyes open, brother.

Safe travels.

The atmosphere was so tense

that the union leaders decided to leave Macondo�

leaving no trace of their whereabouts.

Does it hurt?

Quit bugging her, Aureliano.

Go get us some water.

Amaranta's life slipped away in embroidery.

It's beautiful.

For years, she'd kept company with death,

who had granted her the privilege of announcing itself in advance

and had instructed her to weave her own shroud�

informing her that she would die without pain, fear, or bitterness

on the day she completed it.

There you go.

Don't tell me she doesn't look like an Amaranta �rsula.

She's not gonna put up with anyone's shit.

Mm.

-Mm. -Hello.

Oh, look at this beautiful baby girl.

I thought I'd never see you smile again.

Look, this girl is already working miracles.

It's the baths.

They help me get through the boredom of this confinement.

If you behave, then I might let it end sooner.

Ah, there's my girl.

I want to inform you of something very important

that is about to happen.

I'm going to die.

Tomorrow.

And if anyone has a message for a deceased loved one,

I can deliver it to them.

You're all crazy.

Aw, don't listen to her. You're not crazy.

I'll see you around. Bye.

It seemed like a farce.

Amaranta Buend�a showed no disturbance of any kind,

nor the slightest sign of pain.

The news that Amaranta was setting sail at dusk,

carrying mail for the dead,

spread through Macondo that morning.

And by three in the afternoon,

there was a box full of letters in the living room.

-What are you doing here? -It's nice to see you.

I mean, it was the only way I could use the front door.

For the colonel.

I will gladly give this to him.

Thank you.

She regretted not having the revelation of her death

many years earlier,

when it was still possible to purify her memories

and rebuild the universe under a new light.

Her sins must be so grave that she prefers a sacrilegious death

over facing the shame of confession.

My conscience is clear of shame,

and I depart this world free of sin.

My mother can vouch for that.

Amaranta Buend�a leaves this world as she came.

A virgin.

Before her death,

Amaranta would have liked to rescue Rebeca from the mire of her misery.

Not out of hatred or love,

but out of a boundless understanding of loneliness.

It's getting late.

For what?

For my bath.

I've filled it with water already.

Besides, I don't like to bathe late because of the scorpions.

Of course.

What was that? What happened?

Help!

The police are saying he's some sort of chicken thief.

-I heard he was jumping the fence. -Oh my goodness.

I think I know who that is.

What happened? I don't understand.

All right. Enough. Go back home, everybody.

He's still breathing.

Move along.

Move along.

The bullet lodged in his spine

confined him to bed for the rest of his life.

Mauricio died of old age in solitude,

without a whimper,

without a single complaint,

tormented by both the memories and the yellow butterflies

that never granted him a moment's peace,

having been cast out as a chicken thief.

Fernanda, for God's sake, let go of her.

Meme.

Fernanda, what did you do to her?

-Meme. -It's all right.

Let's go, my child. It's okay.

The sun shines on us all

On all of us equally

On the man who does wrong

And on the one who does good things

Play it, brother.

Aureliano Segundo was spending more time with Petra Cotes.

And although his body and soul could no longer keep up

with the parties of the past,

he never missed a chance to organize gatherings

and play his accordion.

No work till justice! No work till justice!

Workers united!

United!

Meanwhile, Jos� Arcadio Segundo and other union leaders

who had remained in hiding,

reappeared in Macondo without warning,

organizing protests in every town across the banana zone.

Equality for all!

Equality for all!

Dignity and respect for all!

Dignity and respect for all!

Long live the movement!

Long live the movement!

-United! -United!

United!

United!

United!

Brothers!

Let's make history with Macondo and the country!

The people united will never be defeated!

The people united will never be defeated!

Long live organized labor!

Long live organized labor!

-United! -United!

-United! -United!

No sooner had they exiled Mauricio Babilonia

than Fernanda had conceived, down to the smallest detail,

a plan intended to erase every vestige of disgrace.

Meme didn't know or care where she was going.

It would've made no difference to her

if they had been leading her to the slaughterhouse.

This is your home, my child.

Don't forget your way back.

May God protect you.

She hadn't spoken since�

and would not speak again for the rest of her life.

The people united will never be defeated!

The people united will never be defeated!

The people united will never be defeated!

Fernanda never knew, nor did she make any effort,

to find out whether her daughter's stony silence

was an act of will

or whether the shock of the tragedy had rendered her mute.

Meme boarded the train like a sleepwalker

and hardly noticed the journey.

She did not see the white houses of the gringos

or the women sitting on their porches.

She did not see the wagon tracks along the dusty roads,

nor the crowded and miserable workers' barracks

where Mauricio Babilonia's yellow butterflies fluttered.

That fleeting sight�

�which had once been a source of joy whenever she returned from school,

passed through Meme's heart without a stir.

The public is hereby informed that General Cort�s Vargas

has been appointed civil and military commander of the region,

with the purpose of restoring order.

Accordingly, martial law has been declared.

There were three regiments.

They were all identical.

Sons of the same mother,

all burdened by the shame of rifles with fixed bayonets,

the nuisance of blind obedience, and a sense of honor.

Though he was not a man of omens,

the news struck Jos� Arcadio Segundo like an announcement

of the death he had been expecting ever since that distant morning

when he witnessed Moncada's execution.

Silva, Daza, Alabar.

P�rez, Bustamante, this way.

The soldiers put their rifles aside.

Martial law authorized the army to assume the role of arbiter

in the dispute.

They cut and shipped the bananas and set the trains in motion,

but no attempts at conciliation were ever made.

And once again,

both the banana company and the government

ignored the workers' list of demands.

That is how the great strike broke out.

Mom?

Mom?

The workers, who until then had been content to wait�

�began to sabotage the sabotage.

Oh my goodness! What's happening?

-Let's go! Get out! -Let's go!

-Leave, motherfuckers! -Go, get out! Get out!

We've had enough!

Long live equality and the workers' union!

They set plantations and commissaries on fire.

They destroyed rails to prevent the trains from running.

Martial law in the banana zone in Santa Marta Province

declared by the Colombian government last night.

Feelings against the government by the proletariat,

which are shared by some soldiers, is high.

And I doubt that we can rely

on the support of the Colombian government for our protection.

It is admitted

that the character of the strike has changed

and that the disturbance is a manifestation

with subversive tendency.

Our demands will be met! Our demands will be met!

Our demands will be met! Our demands will be met!

Our demands will be met!

Stop!

-Justice for the workers! -United we stand!

Get out, gringos! Get out, gringos!

The people united will never be defeated!

The people united will never be defeated!

May I respectfully suggest that my request

for the presence within calling distance

an American warship be granted.

Did you hear about the strike?

There are fires everywhere.

It's been days, Aureliano.

How are you just finding out?

Where are the girls at?

Amaranta �rsula's still sleeping,

and Renata is not in Macondo.

What do you mean she's "not in Macondo"?

She decided to become a cloistered nun, and I wasn't about to oppose her decision.

No, Meme wouldn't have left without telling me.

She didn't tell you because you weren't here.

Just like you weren't here to comfort her

when that laborer she fell in love with was shot for stealing our chickens.

What are you talking about, Fernanda?

Where the hell is my daughter?

She's somewhere better now, and she'll never come back.

SAINT TERESA OF LA COLINA

Deep down, Aureliano Segundo did not believe

the evidence was legitimate.

Just like he never believed

that Mauricio Babilonia had gone into the yard to steal chickens.

But seeing his daughter's signature helped ease his conscience.

And so he was able to return without remorse

to the shadow of Petra Cotes.

You have all taken this business way too far.

The national government wants to avoid irreparable damage to the area.

So then let the government come and negotiate our list of demands.

I'll bring the government representatives�

but you and your workers

will end the vandalism.

That'll depend on how much longer the government makes us wait.

And we don't want any more of your false promises.

My brothers!

The government has made a decision.

They're going to negotiate the petition of demands,

and the representatives will arrive on Friday!

We did it! Yeah!

Yes, sir! We did it, brother!

United we stand!

United!

Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

THE STRIKE IS THE WORKER'S VOICE

Toward noon,

while they waited for a train that would never arrive,

more than 3,000 people, workers, women, and children,

overwhelmed the station square

and crowded the surrounding streets.

Brothers!

Today's a day of celebration!

A historic day!

We've forced the company to acknowledge us.

Long live organized labor!

To the Union!

-United we stand! -United!

Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

You tie it like this up here.

See?

And you go� upwards like that.

Not too hard and not too soft.

Because this top�

Has to dance.

Yes, it has to dance. Very good.

Finger.

There you go. Nice job.

Oh, it's a glorious day.

-They will meet our demands. -They need to recognize us.

Hey, Jos� Arcadio.

They're saying no trains have arrived in Ci�naga all day

and that the next one leaves tomorrow.

That doesn't make any sense.

If no trains were coming from the capital, we'd know by now.

Well, yeah.

What about General Cort�s Vargas?

Not a single person leaves till they arrive.

Yeah, you got it.

Attention!

Attention! Silence!

Silence, please!

-Where is General Vargas? -Sir?

-Silence! -Could you put him on your shoulders?

He doesn't wanna miss anything.

I'm going to read you a message.

Many years later,

although no one believed him,

that same child would go on to tell the story

of how he saw the lieutenant reading through a gramophone horn,

decree number four of the civil and military chief of the province.

Carlos Cort�s Vargas

and his secretary, Major Enrique Garc�a Isaza.

"Article one."

"Those who have organized and incited the strike

are hereby declared a gang of criminals."

Criminals, how?

"You are hereby informed that the strike is declared illegal."

The government needs to face us!

What you're doing to us is illegal!

We deserve respect, assholes!

Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

Only eight hours!

Only eight hours!

-Only eight hours! -Order!

Only eight hours!

I'm here to let you know, moving forward,

that martial law is in place here!

Long live the workers' union!

Public demonstrations are forbidden,

and these soldiers are thus authorized to fire

at any person who refuses to leave the area!

-Cowards! -Respect the workers!

We're not going anywhere!

�united will never be defeated!

The people united will never be defeated!

The people united will never be defeated!

The people united�

Ladies and gentlemen�

you have five minutes to clear the area.

Let's go.

I wouldn't put it past these bastards.

Your five minutes are up.

One remaining minute until we fire!

Intoxicated by the tension,

by the marvelous depth� of the silence,

and convinced that no one would be able to move that death-fascinated crowd,

Jos� Arcadio Segundo raised his voice.

You vultures!

You can keep your last minute and go fuck off!

Fire!

It was as though the machine guns

had been loaded with pyrotechnic trickery,

for there was not the slightest reaction,

not a voice, not even a sigh.

Lord have mercy!

Jos� Arcadio Segundo looked with horror at all of the dead men�

the dead women, and the dead children�

who were on their way to be dumped into the sea

like rejected bananas.

He leaped into the darkness

and stayed there, crouched in the dirt until the train had passed.

It was the longest train he had ever seen.

It carried no lights

and glided through the night with a stealthy silence

toward the very same sea where almost a century earlier,

his great-grandfather Jos� Arcadio Buend�a's dreams

had met their ruin.

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