All language subtitles for The Thrushes Are Still Singing (1979).eng

To Costas M.
To George "Swing".

To Vera, wherever she may be.

THE WRETCHES ARE STILL SINGING

A NIKOS NIKOLAIDIS FILM

Written and Directed
by Nikos Nikolaidis

I always told him
he couldn't go on living this way.

He had too much
unfinished business.

So that's how it came to this.

For the past two years,
we spoke using gestures.

I realized he had been affected
by some "Costa's" death.

And someone else's
from the old gang.

George "Swing" if you knew him.

Alright...

I'll be there too.

But give me some time 'cause
it's hard to get out of here.

From the top now...

Sometimes I felt sorry,
seeing him all alone like that.

So, I'd bring over a chick...

but he'd just laugh.

"In my generation", he'd say...

"in order to love a woman,
she had to have a death quality".

"The bimbos
you keep bringing here..."

"what do they have?"

To tell you the truth...

I knew he'd "end it" this way.

Hello.

Hey, wretch! Still alive?

It all started a few days
before Christmas of '78.

As usual, I woke up that morning
feeling useless and lost.

A fact I was used to,
which no longer bothered me.

One boring day followed the next.

And nothing indicated that things
would take a turn for the better.

I often said I shouldn't complain
about my life.

After all, it was my choice
to be what I was.

My wife dumped me three years ago.

She left me her house, hoping
I'd never bother her again.

Since then, she'd send
some money in a letter...

calling me a "failed musician"
and blaming me for our separation.

I know it's up to me
to see her and the kids again.

And it may happen some day.

But for now,
I've got two serious problems.

First, Dimitris will be here soon.

The last gang member
and always late.

He'll ring the bell,
and no one will open the door.

Second... I must find a place
to hide Vera's body.

I spent all day yesterday,
dragging if here and there...

trying to find a suitable hideout.

In the end, nothing seemed right
so I left her in the living room.

Athens... September 1956.

It's twelve noon.

The cops...

raid "Maxim's".

Inside, 500 brutes in blue jeans.

On the screen, that dinosaur
Bill Halley with his Comets...

Elvis Presley...

Little Richard...

Tennessee Ernie Ford...

Fats Domino...

Johnny Ray and his
"Little White Cloud That Cried".

...Animals on the dance floor.

They're smoking, kissing...

ripping the seats apart.

The cops are dazed.

They leave,
and call the Fire Brigade.

We seal the doors
with broken seats.

It's been raining, so I have
to keep emptying the pit.

I'm 76 years old
and everything is groovy.

I know what's in store for me.

"Marjorie Morningstar. "
"The Lady from Shanghai."!

"Mara Maru. ".

"Laura. "

The firefighters use axes
to break down the doors.

It is then, that I see Vera
for the first time.

She is leaning on a post.

She is wearing a grey raincoat.
She is smoking.

The hoses are blasting water.

Vera takes me by the hand
and leads me to the fire exit.

I have a last glance
at the faces on the screen.

We run out to Main Street.

There's a protest march.

In we go!

Tear gas,
the pigs and their sirens.

They arrest us... split us up
and throw us into police vans.

A week goes by
and I start looking for her.

"Green Park",
"Top Hat", "Blue Fox".

Nobody knows her.

That night, I prowled the streets
like the big bad wolf.

I knew what I was looking for,
but prayed not to find it.

For now I have Abbott
and Costello, The Invisible Man...

and the great Rita Hayworth
sitting next to me.

I do have that prerogative.
Don't I?

I mean, once you start losing it
anyfhing can happen.

Besides, everyone in my generation
wanted to fuck Rita Hayworth.

So, you end up saying
"I'm crazy, pal"...

just to find some peace
from everybody.

They've all disappeared anyway.

Everyone else has been living
underground for years.

Nowhere to be found.

Don't scream!
There's nobody around.

Hum] up, get in!

Let me go...

- Go on, get in!
- No!

Get in!

Go to the back! Move it!

Did I mention that if you behave,
you won't get hurt?

But if you stick
to your crazy act...

you'll end up dead.

That's a good girl.

- How old are you?
- Twenty.

Nice years.

- Let's play a game.
- Where are we going?

For a long ride.

Fats Domino is waiting for us
just around the corner.

- Do you know him?
- No.

You'll get to meet him.
He's one of ours.

Why don't you let me go?

- I've got money on me.
- Is that so?

- Do you like it here?
- I don't know.

Where are we?

...Home.

Look... if we've got
the same thing in mind...

I want you, too...

Alright?

First, I want
to ask you something.

Go ahead...

Touch me here.

Do you remember that morning
at Maxim's? September of '55...

Neil Sedaka, Julie London...
That kind of setting.

What happened then?

- Was I there too?
- Yes!

They grabbed us
and threw us into police vans.

I haven't seen you since.

I've looked everywhere for you.

"Top Hat",
"Blue Fox", "Green Park".

I couldn't find you anywhere.

You're mistaking me
for someone else.

I wasn't even born then.

But look,
if you want us to play...

it's okay.

- So? What happened then?
- When?

Then, at "Maxim's".

- Have you heard about us?
- No.

We may have been
in the newspapers.

We are guys that roam
the streets at night...

and trap little girls like you.

- Haven't you read anything?
- You're lying.

Such things don't happen.

- Haven't you heard anything?
- No.

- And now what?
- Nothing... We talk.

Why don't you get back here?

Then, I'm the only one left.

But you musfve heard
of Costas and George "Swing".

Nothing?

Well, now I must tell you...

You have only minutes to live.

Suppose, I let you go.

Not that I would...
but let's suppose.

Want me to tell you what you'd do?

You'd go to the cops...

and drag them all here.
That's what you'd do.

Hey, wretch.

Who are you?

You haven't changed a bit.

If you'd switch off
your flashlight...

I'd tell you if you've changed.

- Go on, give us the setting.
- You go first.

- Ruby Gentry.
- Jennifer Jones.

Come inside, wretch.

You've got it nice here.

How about that?

Don't tell me
you're an intellectual now.

Because I've become
a true reactionary lately.

"Papa-oom-maw-maw"
and shit... Got it?

So, what's up mate?
We're in bad shape, right?

The lady is dead-beat, huh?

As much as it gets.

This calls for a cigarette...
Always in a silver case.

What kind of a joke is this?

- It's not a joke.
- That's what I mean.

I expected a different reunion
after all these years.

A different mood in the air.

That'll come, too.

Yeah, it'd better, because...

What about the plastic wrapping?

- For the blood to drain.
- Since she's fresh et cetera...

...l see.

I heard you got married.

As you can see,
I'm trying to keep my cool.

- Your wife?
- No.

- Vera.
- And Vera is?

A very old story.

- A velvet suit, I see.
- Really comfy!

But still, you know,
a certain ice in the air...

Wrapping and stuff.

- Strange...
- Ignore it.

Besides, we'll bury her
at some point.

Vera?

Yes... One of them.

You said "we".

Does that mean
you put me in the picture too?

I don't know.

- You should have warned me, okay?
- About what?

About all this, damn it!

If I told you over the phone,
would you have come?

- You should have tried me.
- I'm trying you now.

Now it's too late, man.

I'm already in.

So Vera died for knowing too much?

During some erotic frenzy
and so on?

- In fact, she knew too little.
- So that's why.

...Sort of.

- So, how about you?
- You mean a career?

Social recognition, bank deposits,
a blond lover and all that jazz?

How pathetic!

Nothing. Thank God
I'm just here and there.

I have no one to answer to
and nobody's counting on me.

- Profession?
- Same as always...

a magician from Odessa!

Is there anything to drink?

- So, will you stay?
- It depends on how it goes.

If you leave, will you tell on me?

Not necessarily...
Are we waiting for anyone else?

- I got hold of Rita.
- That wretch is alive?

Alive, but if you approach her
with a match, there'll be a fire.

- Alcohol?
- Pure.

No kidding.

- Rita is beautiful though.
- Gorgeous!

Cheers!

Does she know anything?

No.

- And...?
- And... Christos is coming.

- Which Christos?
- This one.

- Fantastic!
- I couldn't find anyone else.

But I managed to send
a message to Dimitris.

Dimitris is in the can again...
Right?

Yeah, but he's getting out.

Well, do you know
when everything screwed up?

- When?
- When that cretin Perry Como...

...sang "Glendora".
Listen carefully, corpse!

- "Top Hat" '56-'57, right?
- Around that time.

- Is it raining out?
- Yes.

- See what I got you?
- Yeah, I see... Flowers.

Do I get a kiss?

Don't turn around
until I tell you to.

I get the impression
I still haven't got it right.

Exactly.

Shall I take it off?

Do as you please.

Buying a raincoat like hers...

dying your hair and changing
your name don't mean a thing.

I told you not to mess
with these things.

Funny, first I couldn't stand
living in the shadow of this Vera.

If that's really her name.

Now, I'm buying
a raincoat like hers.

I'm only trying to help you,
you know.

Sort it outwith yourself, not me.

Rest assured, I've sorted it out.

A dead Vera is a good Vera.

So tell me, creep... Can we have
a night chat, the two of us?

About what?

Forget it... It's too early.

It's strange how everything seems
to be in place in this house.

Are you sure it's
just the two of us in here?

Do you know what Rita did
a few years ago?

Of course not...
Listen to this, then.

Syntagma Square, 1970.

Here comes Rita
dressed like Nibelungen.

She corners a poor guy
who's feeding pigeons...

and says, real serious and
everything, "I'm gonna eat you".

Naturally, the guy
doesn't believe her and smiles.

A frozen smile of course, because
Rita's totally flipped out.

Black bags under her eyes,
lips and nails painted black...

weird hairstyle, et cetera...
and while he's giggling...

Rita dashes forward
and starts chewing on him!

Still, at some point, you must
tell me how it all started.

It started when that cretin,
Perry Como, sang "Glendora".

- "We're strangers in this city."
- "In this city, we are strangers."

"We grew old in this city."
In other words...

"We are strangers!"

So, you know what this song needs?

A white "saskin" jacket.

Striped pants, short.

Black, embroidered,
platform shoes.

Pink shirt, turquoise blue tie.

Hairstyle: crew cut.
Power, huh?

You wretch!

It's been two days and not once
has he talked about himself.

These past 15 years, I had heard
lots of bad things about him.

Some strange stories, like that
he was a junkie, in America...

But I was really glad that
he didn't ask pointless questions.

Maybe we see things the same way.
Thafls why I'm planning...

to take him along
on a ”car ride ” tonight.

And if Rita shows up,
we'll take her too.

And Christos... Why not?

The gang will strike again!

Now, tell me about Costas.

Nothing momentous. Forget it.

He died, didn't he?

Why won't you tell me?

To be exact, he killed himself.

He didn't just die.

You really want to know, huh?

So, the day was warm and poetic...

the sky was of a light color blue...

and "little Caesar"
- Costas in this case -

believed he was a bird,
opened his window...

and flew to the ground.
That's what happened.

And George "Swing"?

George "Swing"... Well...

George...

George died at the "Igloo cafe".

How? Now, watch this:

A light bulb goes out.

George climbs on a chair...

but he can't reach the bulb.

He brings the table closer...

puts the chair on top...

climbs on the table,
then the chair...

Now, George can reach the bulb.

While George unscrews the bulb
he loses his balance...

and down he falls.

Along with him, down go
the chair and the table.

George gets up but he's in pain.

He's in terrible pain. Why?

Because the leg of the chair
has penetrated his stomach.

...All the way through.

What do you make of that?

I once thought
Vera would save me from all this.

Remember how I always said
"life can be tackled in pairs"?

Well, Vera never showed up.

Ideologically speaking,
I think she never does.

Vera who never shows up... Right?

A typical problem of the 50's.

Together with gonorrhea and
a certain guilt about Hiroshima.

You wretch... I'm sure you know
when all this started. Right?

Sure. When that cretin
Perry Como sang Glendora!

Wake up! Wake up!
Someone's coming!

Prepare to die!

How's it going, wretch?

Rita?

- Sort of an alcoholic, huh?
- Sort of bald, huh?

- Am I too mean?
- Average.

And very beautiful.

- Remember what we used to say?
- What?

- "See you later alligator. "
- Yeah, sure...

- "Walking in the rain. "
- That's right.

- Let's go.
- Let's.

Where to, if I may ask?

- Out.
- You mean outside?

Only if we stay in dark places.
'Cause I have a problem.

- I ran away.
- From where?

I'm just a runaway, in general.

So, no lights or crowds.

- Nice.
- What?

- The Bat and the Werewolf.
- New adventures and what else?

- Whatever we hit.
- Bats and harlots?

Surely not!
That's for sick people!

Alkis.

Come closer.

Do you know I tried to eat
this poor guy once?

- Yeah, I heard.
- Who told you?

The other wretch, Konstantinos.

In a square, he said,
or something like that.

Yes. The jerk was feeding pigeons.

I told him,
but he didn't believe me.

He started to laugh...
So I started chewing on him.

- Nice and easy, huh?
- Peacefully.

It had to be done, you know?

- Then, they came and got me.
- The cops?

No, the others...

The clinic,
the nuthouse and the like.

The "white system",
as you'd call it.

White rooms,
little sterilized doctors.

I'd tell them crazy people jokes
and they'd crack up.

What are we going to do outside?

Nowadays,
I'm into rape and murder.

The only rape and murder
I've seen is my own.

- What an overstatement!
- Yeah, a cheesy symbolism.

Friends?

What else?

Do you remember the New Year's
party at "Green Park"...

when we were dancing?

I loved you so much then
but you didn't know.

Well... how's it going?

Where are the others?

All the wretches are fine, right?

Am I in the wrong house? ...No.

This is it.

Christos...
One of the first wretches.

Vera.

- Am I wrong or is that dirt?
- Sorry...

I'm wet.

Vera.

Hello.

So, you live here too?

In away...

I'm in the garden now...

In a pit.

It rains a lot and I have
to keep emptying the water.

- That's why my hands are muddy.
- Yes, I see...

you are a bit tattered.

They put an oilcloth on the pit
today, and now it's better.

Sure thing...
an oilcloth is always handy.

Especially when it keeps raining.

So, tell me...

are we alone in this house
or is there anybody else around?

- Just asking.
- Someone's sleeping in the room.

- Over there.
- That's a start. Anybody else?

Some Rita came...

they left together.

But they'll be back.

The last two years
we've been living together...

we spoke in gestures.

He was really hurt
by the death of two friends.

- You know?
- Yeah, I know who you mean.

- It's not my fault.
- Of course not!

That's right.

Are you wearing anything else?

...No.

Some breast!

Watch this... Vienna,
before the war at Karlsplatz.

I emerge from the dark,
"The Third Man" right?

The name's Harry.

Harry Lime.

Some eye, huh?

Do me a favor.

Take care of him.

- Alright, Fatty?
- Yeah, I know.

We only use gestures in here.

Vera...

Don't forget me.

Listen up...

tuck the children in
and don't wait up for me.

I'm experiencing dramatic moments
in an empty house with mad women.

That is, I may never come back.
We talk only in gestures here.

Got it?

You didn't get it.

Got a smoke?

Always the scrounge, huh?

What's up?

You dig it'? Mystery in the air.
Dimmed lights...

a stranger watching you sleep.

The name's Harry...

Harry Lime.

I'm obviously glad to meet you.
But...

I need more.

- How about... Jim Blacker.
- Oh yeah'?

- Profession?
- As always.

A magician from Odessa.

Ah, you wretch!

What happened to you, wretch?

Some disguise, huh?

Because...
"Captain Jimmy's pirate ship..."

"on which everyone will board..."

"is loaded with hashish
and sails backwards."

That's enough Christos...
We've heard all that before.

Enough...
And "the ship never sailed..."

and "Peru was lost..."

and "Friends and women
have betrayed us..."

and "We were heading
elsewhere, but..."

After all there's politics, man.

And It's not all that bad.

You have an identity.
You belong somewhere.

It's not my cup of tea, anymore.

And it's my right to resist.
Alright?

And, if you'd throw back
my cigarettes, I'd be even better.

...Right.

Can you tell me something?

Can you explain the reason
why we've come to this house?

Well Fatty? Can you?

Yes...

- I'll be turning 40 in a while.
- And?

And after 40, you live
with this constant fear that...

you may turn a corner and...

see yourself coming from
the opposite sidewalk to meet you.

Besides, one can't
get away from oneself.

- Not even if he's a Conrad hero.
- All this sounds familiar, but...

Why have we come here?

I don't know. Blondie's
in some kind of trouble, I think.

And we're solution providers?

Okay wretch, spit it out.
Let's get it over with.

I need a favor.

If it's about money, forget it.
I'm broke.

- It isn't.
- Well?

I've got a problem...

I've had it for years.

It even had an impact
on my personal mythology.

Well?

Let me put it in other words.

- I want to fuck Rita.
- Which means...

that the anxious prelude about
personal mythologies was just...

- Well, I have an issue...
- Some guy!

Stop teasing. It's Payback time.

So when Rita comes,
we're in for big laughs!

- But not with me, this time.
- What happened last time?

Last time...
the laughs were on me.

Remember
back when she had disappeared?

She was hanging around
with a bunch of wimps.

Suburbia, villas,
posh cars and the rest...

So, one summer night,
I'm in this villa...

crashing a pool party.

There's a certain atmosphere...

...and they're spinning
"The Platters".

And Rita is by the pool...

as Doris Day under the moonlight.

- How fabulous!
- I was fabulous too!

After a few gins, I think I'm six
feet tall and I'm hitting on her.

You know, eye winking, smiling...

...deep voice number 4.

- So, I drop the first hint
- And Rita throws you in the pool.

- How do you know?
- It's common sense.

Rita next to a pool is dangerous.
Too dangerous!

I hope the pool was full.

It was.
But everyone ran over to laugh.

Sol put on this drunk
and laid back act.

I start to swim like Esther
Williams. "What a wonderful life".

And "Since they do this
in Hollywood, why not here too?"

So everybody thought
I was some eccentric tycoon.

A couple of broads hit the water
too. That saved the day somehow.

The rest was more tragic
but never mind.

I see...

but, I don't see the problem.

- What if Rita doesn't want to?
- What if Rita does want to?

- What do we do then?
- Then?

A wild peep show!

Rita and I cruised the streets,
but didh 't come up with anything.

Werewolf and Batwoman came back,
empty-handed and slightly wet.

Because, for some time now,
a heavy storm was hitting the area.

I was really glad
to see Christos again.

In the old days,
he was the group's clown.

Back then, every group of friends
had its clown, in order to get by.

He used to say about himself:

"Christos,
the first wretch of the gang".

He was an expert in imitations.
Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney...

and dance routines,
Gene Kelly style.

He was the ultimate wretch
and he knew it.

I believe
he became an actor in the end.

The only change on Fatty
since then, was his weight.

Now, Rita has started
to tease him.

I heard a strange story once.

That he made a pass at her...

and she threw him in a pool.

Rumors perhaps.

Because Fatty used
to tell us everyfhing.

Quiet now, wretches. A toast.

Go on, spit it out.

Remember wretch?

Then, he turns and tells her "If
you were a woman, I'd slap you".

- Wow!
- Some line! More wine?

Shall I spit it out?

Wretches...

I want to say that it's
really nice here with you.

For those who don't know me
or forgot who I am...

I will say only this:

I was born in a clinic
on Kyvelis' street.

Hence: the "Kyvelis' street kids".

Sure... Christos,
the first wretch of the gang.

And I'm proud to say: "the best
yoghurt thrower in town".

In a clay pot, no less!
No plastic bowls and shit!

"Wanted" in general...

throughout the city
and the suburbs.

Since we all split...

some to the U.S.,
others to France, Germany...

or all the way to hell.

Many things happened.

Things nobody asked me about.

Thanks Wretch.

I was cornered into a University,
without being asked.

I was drafted without being asked.

And without knowing how,
I found myself married.

Let it be.

There was a time,
no need to hide it...

I got involved with politics
and had trouble with the cops.

- I got my share of beatings.
- Again?

- Protests about Cyprus...
- Thus you remained short!

And just when I thought
I'd found something...

they shitted on the ideal.

There goes that too.

Since then, wretches...

in order to sleep at night,
I read science fiction.

You know, time and space...

galaxy travel, mutant chicks...

I love James Chase's wretches.

Those who died in vain.

The stoned and the flipped out
...in general.

Alcoholics...

and blond high class whores.

I drink to wretches everywhere.

And to that wonderful woman who
was always running away from us.

To Vera.

To some Vera, anyway.

Nothing to do with me,
but I'm in too...

And to those who are waiting
for us to return, but we won't.

Is that a fact?

- Well said, fatty!
- I'm sensitive beneath the fat.

We're stripping ourselves
and you're wearing a mask.

I got burned in a fire, alright?

Relax, we remember you
as you were.

She's gone, forget her.

Alright... I never got burned.

But I'm ashamed. I look like shit.

You want me to take off my mask?

Get over it, Rita!

Alright then.

Want to dance? Want to?

I've got loads of things
to tell you.

But nobody's listening.

So why the hell
did we all come here?

I'm listening.

Things didn't happen
the way you think.

I didn't get caught after the
incident with the pigeon feeder.

I believe we're in for
the pathetic story of her life.

- What's wrong?
- I don't know... a hair, I think.

Always wretches.

You haven't changed a bit.

And you don't understand a thing.

Think I don't know
why you used to hang with me?

- Let it out.
- To find chicks for you.

Just that and nothing else.

Forever, hooking you up.

Chicks, pocket money.

...In bed with everyone.

Rita... our buddy.

The fabulous Rita.

Fatso is done.

And you're joking
behind my back... nice!

How about a striptease now?

Why not?

Attaboy! Why stir these things up?

Any better?

- The happy days are over, right?
- Time for the days of the wretch.

Give me a cigarette. One of mine.

In my pocket.

"Away, far away we travel."

"Daybreak will find us
alone and misty..."

"you, smoking Camel cigarettes..."

"me in a corner, drinking whisky."

I've become very nasty, you know.

It's 'cause you were dealt
a shitty hand.

- There's no solution in the end.
- Listen to me...

You're dwelling over this stuff.
It has to end sometime, alright?

So, how about that marvelous rape
we were discussing?

Well?

Let's go do it! Everly Brothers,
Ebony Eyes and the rest. Shall we?

Till I reached 17,
life was like a game...

remember?

Bicycles, hide and seek
in empty lots...

swimming...

cafes... movies in the summer.

By the time I was 20,
I'd messed everything up.

I had a terrible fight, smashing
a big mirror on my daddy's head.

That's when I ran away
and went to Germany.

Things were really tough then.

But wonderful too.

The beauty of being twenty.

I used to paint wherever I could.

In the streets,
the squares, on bridges.

I worked as a designer,
a cleaning woman...

I worked in a bar,
I worked as a stripper...

I sold newspapers.

Then, I got pregnant.
God knows with whom.

I kept it, but in the fifth month,
I changed my mind.

I came back here
and had an abortion.

I never got pregnant again.

Time for the violins, right?
You wretch!

"Our little cow."

Our little cow, is grazing
in the sun.

Hasn't been milked yet
and still having fun.

Milk turns to yoghurt,
milk becomes butter.

In a plate it ends up,
may I please have another?

The French news reports:

The Japanese Embassy in Berlin
has addressed the following:

"Spots on The Wall"
by "Who Flung Shit".

"Over-Population"
by "We Fuck'em Young".

"Cheese famunda. .. "

turned to yoghurt.

I have so much to say
but no one is listening.

Hi... Yes, it's me.

Fine...

I couldn't call earlier, okay?

How are the kids?
What? When?

Tomorrow or some day! We'll see...

No, they don't have a phone here!

We're in the previous century,
phones aren't invented yet!

Sure, I'm drunk!

No, I won't be talking
to you soon.

No, I don't want to see you soon!

I'm dead. Dead and buried!

Assholes! Punks!

Fucking sun!

What's going on?
Tricky situation, I see.

What's in here?

Nice!

You're wasted, huh?
Had a few too many?

I didn't get that...

I'll go get it.

I'm making orange juice.
Want some?

Let's have that too.

Did anything happen here
last night?

Did you say something?

I said... there's some intricacy
in the other rooms.

- What happened last night?
- What happened?

Listen, my child...

let's decide who is drunk
and who isn't. Okay?

Then, who's asking the questions.
Still with me?

So, I ask "what happened
last night" and you reply...

"What happened last night?"
Is that a rational conversation?

- No... Are four oranges enough?
- More than enough. Thanks.

What's going on?

There's some chicks
loose in the house.

Yeah, I know,
some strange characters.

What happened?

We got stuck with them
last night, I guess.

- Did a colossal orgy take place?
- I don't know.

I was drunk as a skunk last night.

Which one did I have?
'Cause I had my whiskeys, too...

Anyway... make them leave
because I don't like them.

- Alright?
- Leave it to me.

But first, I want to know
who I was with last night.

Hair like an angel's...

evolved from pasta.

Eyes? Somewhere
between brown and petrol.

Lips... chaos.

Chest... "Playboy" style.

Jewelry... a wretch.

Personality... below zero.

Special characteristics... grey.

Wake up!

Listen... Next door
there's a friend of mine. Alkis.

He's great
but somewhat flipped out.

A few years ago,
he met a girl named Vera.

Since then, he's been
busting our balls with her.

Well, I suggest you go next door,
pretend to be Vera and...

well, you know...
Just for laughs. Got it?

Shit! Hear me? Shit!
Are you crazy?

- Think I care about your stories?
- This is great...

I want to leave!
We were going to Martinique, huh?

What am I doing here?

What did you ask me to do?
I'm leaving! Go call me a cab!

- I want a cab, I want to leave!
- Lucky me...

Where are my cigarettes?
Don't touch me!

I'm sick... sick and tired
of all the Greeks! Sick and tired!

I can't stand them! No!

I want to leave.
I want to leave immediately.

Fuck you! You hear?
Tell me, what happened last night!

Listen! Listen... I want to leave.

Call me a cab,
I want to leave at once!

All you Greeks are assholes.
Assholes!

- I'm no “Grec“ nor Gregory Peck.
- Fuck you!

- I live an indecisive life...
- Get out of my sight!

Asshole... fuck you!
I'm sick and tired, sick and tired!

What's up?

At the back of the yard,
there's a pit, you know?

With something in it.

You don't think
we all fit in there, do you?

Alright.

Some letters came for you.
You probably won't read them.

Am I right?

...I'm right.

I guess you don't want me
to read them to you either.

You'd love to get rid of me
once and for all, right?

But you haven't found the way yet.

Although, I do suspect something.

Then, you'd be free to live
with your ghosts and your music...

far from my vulgar logic.

But you see, someone must go out
to water the flowers...

and to cook for you.

That's why you need me.

I know I've trapped you somehow.

But I'll find a way to release you.

At times,
I think about "doing something".

But I'm too much of a coward.

Besides, I'm getting used to
your tunnel of silence.

And I'm convinced that
this story about Vera is a lie.

Maybe...

...maybe Brenda Lee,
Bill Halley and Fats Domino...

...can lure you to places
that others cannot see.

But this Vera of yours...

My love, you must accept...

that Vera is the name of an age
that has gone forever.

And when we too are gone,
my times may bear your name.

Everything else is simple.

I'm going to water the plants.

What's going on?

- I'm thinking about moving them.
- Why?

'Cause I'm afraid, that's why.

Where will you take them?

- I don't know.
- Why not cover them with dirt?

- Could we?
- Of course.

Soon as it gets dark.

I told Christos to kick everyone
out of the house.

You know what?

It's been years
since I realized...

that we live
in a nightmare of shit.

Let's get back, before they come
here. We wouldn't want that.

Right? So come on... Let's go.

They made up a story
just to lock me up in the clinic.

And you know why?

I'll tell you why!

To keep me near them.
That's what they wanted.

I've never told this
to anyone, you know.

My suitcases were at my mother's.
The flight was at 5 o'clock.

Around 3:30,
I go to pick up my luggage.

- Sorry, I'll be right back.
- Yeah, fine.

So, I go up to my room
to get my suitcase...

and I hear a knock at the door.

Two thugs come in...

"Police", they say.

I was dead drunk.

They pin me down.

So, I sat like an idiot
and got a shot in the ass.

The next day I was
behind the bars of a nuthouse.

For my own good, they said.

I don't get it.

"Besame Mucho".

Good, huh?

What's new?

- What's new?
- Right...

Something is telling me
you and I can be good friends.

- Don't listen to it.
- What? I didn't get that.

Let me ask you something.

Last night, did we...

have an adventure, you and I?

- You and I?
- Does that seem odd?

- Anything's possible.
- Quite a lover, huh?

What's happening?

Nothing's happening.

What's up?

I bet you are not happy
with your life.

- Why shouldn't I be?
- 'Can't fool me.

And who are you
that can't be fooled?

Jim Blecker... Profession?
A magician from Odessa!

- Sorry...
- What's all this about?

Wanna know why Costas
and George "Swing" died?

- Yeah, I do.
- You really want to know?

You want to know why Vera
and the other Vera died...

and why you'll die too?

- Yeah... I like it.
- Do you?

How's it going, Christos?

This is Christos,
the first wretch.

And this is the one and only:
Claudia La Cardinale!

Now, tell her how it all started.

- How it all started?
- Yeah, you know...

Ah, yes! When that cretin,
Perry Como, sang Glendora.

- Got it?
- No, but you're probably right.

Let me ask you. Last night,
did we by any chance... right?

- Something going on between you?
- Maybe.

Did we... mingle?

I can't remember,
after a while things got fuzzy.

Yeah, thanks to animalism!
"Papa-oom-maw-maw"!

After they pulled me
out of the pool...

I was supposedly
heading for my car...

and back to my hotel
to change my clothes.

To return all fresh and cool.

Yeah right... I was broke.

So I turned the corner,
climbed a fence...

had dogs chasing me...

and headed home instead.

Fifteen kilometers by foot,
for your sake.

Barefoot, mind you, 'cause my
shoes were ruined from the water.

Needless to say,
I ended up with a fever.

Let's do it again.

I would love to, but...

Yeah... you're right.

No, it's not what you think...

It's just pointless now.

- What is that?
- Beer, I guess.

So tell me...
Do you have a specific plan?

- For what?
- For what happens next.

Next?

You know that if we stay here
for a couple of more days...

some strange things will
eventually happen. I can see it.

Oh yeah? What else can you see?

I see me packing...

and running back
to my wife's warm bed.

- So? Who's keeping you?
- Unless something happens.

Do you know
what happened a little while ago?

Rita asked me to make love to her
and I said no. Imagine that?

There was a time, when my girlfriends
were handpicked to look like her.

I even made my wife
dye her hair blonde.

Pathetic.

Now, Rita is next to me and
I get sick just by looking at her.

You are a poet, Christos.

You should know better.

Know what?

- To always look ahead.
- Is that so? To see what?

The back yard for example?

The pit with two corpses,
as they tell me?

And you, all crazy eyed,
digging in the night?

I told you
something will happen here.

It already started! You did this!

Got a light? ...How about you?

You smoke too much.

I'm gonna hit on her!
I'll break her just by staring.

- Will it be long?
- What?

- Before the movie starts.
- The question is, will it?

- Why not?
- Daylight, open-air theater?

- Slim chance, no?
- You never know...

I saw you all come in here...

and thought it might be
screening something.

Let's wait.

No one ever knows.

I hear they're showing
a great one tonight.

- Really?
- "Gilda"...

Rita Hayworth, Glenn Ford.

"Blood And Sand", Tyrone Power.

"Johnny Guitar". Such legends.

- Are you serious?
- It's all in here.

Who knows?
We may look up there...

and see the magic begin.

Wouldn't you like that?

"The Queen of Sheba" meets
"The Invisible Man".

"The Postman will Ring Twice."
Lana Turner, Errol Flynn...

and I'm Christos,
the first wretch.

The dog stole my chick!

Well, you were kind of slow.

- Any suggestions?
- Throw pebbles at him.

Drop me off here.

I'll take a walk
and join you later.

Will you be home when I get back?

- If you want me to.
- Okay.

- Need company, wretch?
- No, I'm fine.

Come on,
I want to show you something.

I want to show you something!

Sit down!

Come on, Alkis.

You sit down!

- What did she do?
- She stole and tried to split!

Let her go. We don't need these.

Sit down!

- Can the birdie have her?
- He can... She's all yours.

What's wrong?

Get her out of here.

Why do you mind her?

Konstantinos killed a woman!

- What about her?
- I'll take over, just get in there.

- Which woman?
- Just go!

What happened?

They told me to leave them alone.

Oh, okay...

What's wrong?

I killed a woman.

Really? Where is she?

A few kilometers away.

- If this isn't a joke...
- Fatty!

- It doesn't look like a joke.
- So, what did he do with her?

- What did you do?
- I shot her, twice.

No, I meant afterwards.

Nothing, I left her lying there.

- I guess I should be going now.
- You're not going anywhere.

We'll all go get her with the car.

When did you do it?

I don't remember.

Christos, go find an axe
or a screwdriver...

and bring it with you.

Because I don't know
what's in store for us.

Done.

In other words, we're screwed.

In other words, we've been screwed
since the day we were born.

But they're all making
one mistake.

'Cause, you know?

The wretches are still singing.

Soon, it will be dawn.

It's Christmas Eve
or something like that.

Anyway...

On our way to find the body,
we decided...

to put up a Christmas tree
when we get back.

We reached the spot,
but didn't find a thing.

Perhaps, he had lied to us.

Or she had been slightly injured
and crawled away.

Nobody knows...

So, we came back.

- Where is she going?
- How should I know?

Maybe she's off to find
her knight in shining armor.

Let her go.

When the ship's sinking, the rats
are the first to jump off.

Some broad! Right?

Where's that wretch?

Let's go.

Hey, wretch. We're home.

You're plastered, huh?

Come on, I'll help you out.
What a wretch...

What have you done, wretch?

What have you done?

Wretches!

Are you going, Fatty?

Yeah... Now is a good time
for one to "sign out".

What about Konstantinos?

Right, there's him too.

We'll have to arrange something.

You don't seem to have
any appropriate quotes now.

None of those fucking poems
you always used to tell us.

- Is that right, Fatty?
- I heard Dimitris was coming.

If he does, tell him...

Tell him what? Shit...
Don't tell him anything.

Just tell him we gathered here
and waited for him.

I'm going back...
To the nuthouse. Where else?

Believe it or not, it's the only
safe place to hide nowadays.

I'll tell the doctors our story.

Everything we did in this house
these last few days.

But nobody will believe me.

They'll laugh and say:

Another psycho story
from a psycho chick.

Understand, Alkis?

You know, it wasn't really
that cretin's fault.

Who?

- Perry Como?
- Yeah.

It was one of Konstantinos' jokes,
to cover things up.

Always joking, that guy...

It's a pity. We did
great dance routines together.

Goodbye...

Goodbye, Fatty.

Goodbye, wretch.

Hey...

I bet you have my cigarettes
in one of your pockets.

You scrounged them, huh?

A velvet suit, I see...

THE END

Translated by Vicky Harris

Adaptation by Katerina Nikopoulou