Original subtitles

Downloaded From www.AllSubs.org

Let go! Let go!

Why are you doing this to me?!

Why?

Why is God punishing me? Why?

1 0 0 M I N U T E S O F G L O R Y

Loving her was magic. Being with her...

There's no Ithaca...

There's no America...

There's no America, senor. No.

Senor...

...I'm not thrilled...

...with me being...

... me.

Especially in those tough,

hangover mornings.

Each time I open my eyes, thinking

ah, me again.

It all, all goes on!

Senor...

I'm thinking about how it is to be free from words,

free from nonsense

which is spoken and which binds you,

how it is to be born free from words

and left to paintings.

I watch television, senor,

I'm having flash-backs of the past.

The Earth exists for four and a half billion years.

Do you feel lost when you think about it, huh?

OK, fine. Our thoughts allow us to take leaps.

There was a girl born in 1877, in Croatia.

She was deaf-mute, free from words.

Luckily for here, because they called her "wretched",

"unfortunate", "dumb".

Our Father, who art in heaven,

hollowed be thy name...

She lived in paintings.

Still, they tried to raise her not to be

different from others.

But it wasn't easy.

They had huge problems with her.

Rather early, her mother started thinking about

how her little girl would never marry,

nor would she fit the society.

She used to run away.

Slava!

But it wasn't worth yelling after her or call her.

They lived in a small place

where each misfortune appeared bigger,

with distinguishment of modern individual

not yet invented.

She was calm in photographs, just like all the others,

in the company of the Emperor Francis Joseph I.

Because her father was a civil servant,

loyal to the Emperor, a trifle confused

by all those complications law spoke nothing about.

And so the mother used all available resources

to struggle, just like the Emperor,

to establish order.

In short, they had no clue what to do with the girl.

And while they thought about it...

...she grew up.

Now she began to paint.

And that seemed the only thing that interested her.

They did not try to stop her,

though they thought she was too absorbed with it.

They didn't know what that was that supposed to mean,

what would be the use of it, where it led to.

Her painting reminded them of the times of her fleeing

when they couldn't have summon her.

Art was never highly regarded in the country,

and was considered an additional misfortune,

and her as a misfortune extreme. Yet things

were going to change. Oh, yes, senor,

things were soon to change considerably.

Slava!

Slava!

Stop yelling, you know she can't hear you!

Slava is leaving for Zagreb! She'll study painting!

Slava!

Her name is Slava, Slava Ra�kaj.

Believe me, hers is an outstanding gift!

What a God's disgrace if she stayed here.

I've seen the world and I've seen paintings.

This is a unique talent, a rare God's gift!

On the one hand, God takes away, but on the other,

He gives abundantly. Still, she needs education,

and that she'll get in Zagreb, where they will be

fascinated with these paintings, I tell you.

I shall look after her, you have to worry about nothing.

Please, promise me you will take care!

You know absolutely nothing, you poor thing.

That is a huge city, and you know nothing

except for those daubings of yours.

There you shall meet people like yourself, who paint.

Perhaps they will understand you.

Make sure people won't take advantage of your misfortune.

Mr. Rapacki will help you. Isn't that right?

Absolutely!

Mr. Rapacki...

Thank you, Mr. Ra�kaj!

You won't regret it, you'll see!

If she stayed there, nobody would discover

her potentials. I am a professional

for the handicapped, with years of experience.

And I tell you, this has to be a success.

I have a plan that will knock the city off its feet.

She'll be a proof that anything is possible.

I'll take her to master Bukovac to teach her.

I've heard about him. He's the best, right?

Well, he was in Paris...

Yes, right!

But my brother-in-law told me,

his friend's daughter went to the city for school.

And he said, he'd always told him,

this brother-in-law of mine, studying could ruin

a girl's figure and features. - Studying what?

This isn't my fancy. Wise people say it can be harmful.

So, my brother-in-law said, after about a year,

the girl went back home, and... and?

She grew bald, all from studying!

Oh, come on!

My brother-in-law told me that!

The man saw it with his own eyes.

She still walks about the village entirely bald!

And you don't think somebody made this up?

Who would make up such a... such a...

Tragedy!

Well, I don't know.

Anyway, she s going to study painting.

Oh, well... that's not school.

It's easier anyways, painting...

He's probably at an exhibition.

Bukovac really works a lot.

We'll come back tomorrow.

Tomorrow is our day.

Good day, my name is Rapacki. I am...

Yes?

Yes!

Yes, I forgot. You don't talk.

That guy of yours mentioned that.

But he mentioned it in gloves.

So how am I going to work with you?

Ah, you're going to read my lips, right?

When am I going to read your lips?

No, really! When am I going to read your lips?

Yes, the paintings...

Eh, Bela, Bela... you've started reading lips...

Untrodden are the ways of the artists.

I started reading lips in the early morning...

Paintings!

So let's see... those paintings.

This is yours?

Paintings!

Out with the paintings!

This is good, it's good...

Come.

Show me.

It sure is good.

Oh, fu...

What a blockhead!

You can't yawn all the time!

But I was working all night. I haven't slept a wink!

But I am painting Circe.

Do you know Circe? She's Helios' daughter.

Well, I know neither.

Circe...

Odyssey forgot to return home because of her.

Oh, I know his kind!

I know the whole town, but those two you're painting

I've never met. - Get serious!

I am painting Circe! - Well, call her then.

I mean, really, and you hired me on loan and...

What time it is? - Stay a while longer...

...please.

Circe lived in ancient times.

Deceased? Pardon me then.

Circe was a sorceress!

On your face I need to se PO WER!

Circe turned Odyssey and his buddies into pigs!

Well done!

I need this woman that can turn

a bunch of men into pigs just like that!

Why don't you say so?

Who is it? - Rapacki.

I'm surprised that after all that... come on in...

...after all that you dare look me into my eyes!

Well, I apologize, though I've no idea what happened.

I can't find out anything from her. She is broken!

She almost broke my arm! I haven't been able to work!

Holy Mother of God! - I could sue her!

I beg you to... forgive her.

She's otherwise very kind.

I'm merely trying to prove that the handicapped

can do something, too. You be the judge now.

Who believes in Christ, knows the weakest

should be taken care of. You are a man

with an open heart. Bukovac, for one, turned us down!

Bukovac is a wise man.

Although I don't regard highly the fads

he's brought from Paris. - Frankly, neither do I.

To cut the chase, that girl...

I was going to instruct her, I saw her work. - And?

It's not bad.

Eventually, I have to say this...

If you are a benefactor, I am a painter,

and if we are to work together, there's a price.

Oh? How much?

I need... Circe...

...and not this...

A real Circe!

Much as I know about the classics...

I got mixed up. Circe?

Forget it. Send her tomorrow.

We're doing Circe.

Here she is... Circe...

Circe... Circe...

Give her to me!

Circe!

Turn me into a pig!

Turn me into a swine!

Turn me into a swine!

Turn me into a...

Turn me...

Turn me...

...into a pig.

...into a pig.

...a pig...

Take a look!

Shoes bought in Vienna, made of genuine leather,

but manufactured in a factory,

not by a shoemaker. - What nonsense!

Very chic. - Have you heard?

There was another attempt to rob Bukovac?

But they leave alone your future father-in-law?

Who? - Well, Bela Ciko�...

What is your view of this new art?

Things are going to get messy, gentlemen!

There are various movements.

Personally, I love Secession,

but somehow I don't know...

The old masters are the old masters!

Marica?

I hear you no longer model for Bela, huh?

He took somebody else. - Else?

Let me go!

Klara is really beautiful, Mrs Justina.

I hear her fianc� comes from a good family.

So everything ready for their engagement?

Yes, everything is read. - That is so wonderful!

The painters now say even the air has color.

You don't say! - I see nothing...

I see something... more like some kind of dust.

I also feel special around artists.

They feel everything in a different fashion.

And what does your husband say?

And what does your husband say?

Does air have color? - Does air have color?

I have no idea.

But I'm going to ask him. - Please, do.

I respect his opinion, he's a professional!

Here you are...

Thank you.

Klara, what is so funny?

Your atelier...

This used to be a mortuary.

I wanted to remove this, but it was too heavy.

Slava's sent a letter! - What does she say!

She's studying with some genuine painter.

It's all in praises. She is happy and says not to worry.

Where did you get the key?

I wonder if you know this, maestro, but this used

to belong to my grandfather. So a key of some sort

found a way into my hands. - What are you doing here?

I've come to see art. - It's always interested you.

Just like you.

You've never took interest in painting little cunts,

you've only been interested in pure art.

I see you have a new model. - She's a pupil.

I told you about it. - A pupil?

Well, does she make any progress? She does?

The pupil is a quick study? - She is.

Where is the pupil from? - From Ozalj.

And the name? - Er... S-Slava Ra�kaj.

Those people there would be utterly shocked

to see something like this... in Ozalj.

Her parents... what would her parents say?

Don't be like this! She's only my model.

But of course.

Which is so obvious...

You know very well that I've no money for models.

What baffles me is how do you do it?

How do you get them? How do you get young,

talented painters to be your models?

You are... wicked.

Wicked?

You got it all wrong. I'm not wicked, I'm stupid.

Yes, I am that stupid who pays for all this.

You know, I met Mrs. Miletic.

Bukovac made her portrait.

You know how much?

Four thousand crowns.

So what?

Your daughter is getting married.

Those things cost money.

Bukovac is selling polychromy.

While your work is all dark. You never open curtains.

He's come from Paris and can sell anything,

but I won't do ladies' portraits. You know

what they call it? - What? - Prostitution!

Oh, right! But on the other hand,

painting amateur country mutes is called... what?

That's called art, right? - You've never supported me!

Oh, I always supported you and I still do! For 20 years!

What you say is pitiful. - Oh? It's below you?

The maestro wallows in his bed, drunk like a pig,

can't paint and is fucking country mutes!

That is not below you?! Let me tell you something!

Thing well about what's below and above you.

Bukovac sells! Whatever his polychromy may be,

he sells and could pay for his daughter's marriage!

However, I do hear our country mute amateur

produces interesting sounds while you instructing her.

We're too old for this, Bela.

Let us toast to Mr. and Mrs. �tern.

I congratulate on such wonderful son. Cheers!

I wonder...

For illustrating situations like these,

as Max Kliger puts it,

isn't the etching technique more suitable?

Yes, that is the right question.

Sure, it is very interesting.

From every aspect.

Excuse me...

Can you show at least some joy on the day of

your daughter's engagements? - I am joyful.

I can see that. You've shamed us enough.

How do you think she feels? - I beg your pardon?

Yes, she knows, just like everybody else knows.

I'd give it all some more thought, If I were you.

Daddy...

Come, spend some time with the guests, huh?

What?

What happened?

Why?

Who told you that?! - We got a letter!

She's sleeping with this man and she was painted nude!

Why, you whore?! - Wait! Stop that!

It's a lie! It's not true!

You're a whore, damn you!

You and your daubings!

Why are you doing this to me? Damn you!

You whore! Whore!

You've ruined me! Why? Why?

Why, whore? You whore!

You're better of dead! Why?!

Why are you doing this to me?!

I don't know. You could have...

You could have written. I'd have brought her and...

We could have done a lot of things.

We came...

...to see...

...the Emperor...

...the Emperor...

Bela, don't be envious.

Once you were doing fine, too.

Excuse me, Ciko�, what do you base on your claim

that what you do makes sense?

If they pay Bukovac top amounts,

it doesn't mean it's not art.

I don't know, I like your paintings more.

Envious? Of whom?

I think that what I do makes no sense.

Mr. Bela, sir...

They've come for her! The mother and the father!

And Slava ran away, disappeared! Because of you!

I want to know the truth!

The truth? - Where is that painting?!

Imagine... someone takes interest in my paintings!

What's the price, Ciko�? Perhaps I could buy it.

You need money for a peaceful life.

Out! Get out!

All of you!

Get out!

You too!

You've been invited at an exhibition.

You've progressed since working alone.

What, I get no hug?

That thing between them passed?

It had no chance for a success.

Each time he comes back home...

A doggie always does.

Abandon security and piece...

I feel sorry for Justina and little Klara.

Oh, here we are.

I really don't know why they invited her.

Perhaps so there would be more women among them.

So now I should by a painting from a mute?

Soon you'll have the blind paint! Give me a break...

Oh, what an honor...

Extraordinary! Slava Ra�kaj...

Good afternoon.

What happened? - Nothing.

Excuse me?

Nothing.

I'm trying to be up-to-date...

I've been looking for you.

Excuse me. Let me introduce to you...

Mr. Dubayer. Mademoiselle Ra�kaj.

This gentleman is selecting the paintings

for the Would Expo in Paris.

Your paintings are marvelous.

Just like... you.

He would like to see your paintings in Paris.

I love you.

I love you, Bela.

It's how I imagine it.

I imagine she said that.

Those words are important to me.

She never uttered them!

Perhaps that's why I'm leaving.

The words...

The words...

...which tie you to the world.

Words that create a net around us.

And all that wasn't at all how I imagine it.

No. It was completely different.

You have the passport and the documents?

Are you sure? - I have them.

Check it one more time.

Just for me.

I have them.

Fine.

A change will do you good.

So you can relax. - Yes.

Perhaps I've not always been...

...the way I could have been and the way you perhaps

wanted me to be...

I've always loved you, you know?

I won't stay long. - No...

You'll be back, right? You will.

I'm sorry...

I never saw her again.

bought a one-way ticket.

hat night I thought about my life and decided

o disappear from it...

The further, the better.

America, for instance. As far as possible...

Somebody bought a pair of shoes in Vienna,

and now the whole town is wearing them.

I am expected also to, sooner or later,

take a stroll in them.

She stayed there...

And I...

I left.

It's a strange thing for a man to go so far away,

looking for a fresh start.

An entire life, an entire me,

an entire being, that's what I'd left there.

She was that being.

All that I left to her. I don't know who else.

And she...

I think... I think...

I think she got involved with that foreigner.

I think she did.

I think she did...

I can't tell now if that was what I heard,

or I merely imagine it

to make my departure easier on myself.

What do you think?

What do you think?

Why are you silent?

Everything is easier...

it's all a lot easier if I imagine it so...

Imagine...

I imagine it so...

You think I'm lying?

You think I'm lying, huh?

I see them... I see them laughing.

I see them laughing all the time.

I always thought they were laughing at me.

But I am no longer that person.

I left.

It all seemed to be happening...

...to somebody else.

Soon she began to feel my tiredness.

Tiredness... a tired man I left there...

I still think that painting in full daylight

leads to the absence of color and coldness.

You have a spirit, you have style

and you have skill. Your paintings are exquisite.

I left her with that world.

I left her...

...so an artist in this emotional intensity

moves from the sense of prostration...

Weariness from life... - Fatigue...

Suffering and pain...

...as a part of the search for the unknown...

Miss Ra�kaj, seeing your water-colors,

I was surprised.

You're a woman, and yet so strong.

As opposed to the cabinet painting in an atelier...

Clara and I marvel at your intellect.

An acknowledgement to the courage of a young lady.

Your landscapes reflect yourself.

Your paintings are wonderful.

I consider art to be a place of power.

Hungarians are to blame for all of this.

Some paintings are very successful.

Your water lilies...

Very powerful, sensitive...

You are so wonderful. - You have the spirit...

Your works in the planner, Miss. Ra�kaj...

One easily finds oneself astray...

I hope we shall become friends.

I admire you so. You are...

...so beautiful. ...romantic.

...anemic... - Rubens.

Wiry and... - Even symbolism...

So silent... - A huge talent.

Genius!

But cold, somehow, I'd even say, pale...

Superfluous. - Stupid.

Decorative. - Your weaknesses...

Watch yourself. - Your relationship is...

A complete failure. - Bela...

Bela is not a man for you. - Bela is...

A total... - Cowardice.

Sidetracked... - Weakness...

It never stood any chance. - A woman knows...

An adventure... - Klara is suffering...

Above all sensitive. - She suffers a lot.

Ciko�... - Phenomenal...

Talented... - Max Klinger...

What a strange man... - Watch yourself...

N- O-N-S-E-N-S-E...

N- O-N-S-E-N-S-E...

Nonsense!

You should...

You should work and paint for your own pleasure.

Don't look at things so superficially.

Well, why?

Why? What is the matter?

What are you missing?

We've rented this atelier, you have everything now!

Everything! I gave you everything!

I brought you here, made sacrifices! So now what?!

Now that we should become rich, famous...

You're my only project!

What do you mean, you won't to paint?!

The hell you won't! You shall paint!

You're nothing without painting, you hear?

What do you mean, you won't paint?

You're a painter and you will paint!

Hold this! Hold it!

Go on, paint! This is a job! Work!

Is it because of him? Because of Bela?

Because of that dildo Ciko�? Damn him to all eternity!

He wanted to turn you into a whore! What?!

What are you staring at? I saw that painting!

You think I don't know? That I'm stupid?

What a shame to destroy it! He should have showed it

for everyone to see who you really were!

I thought you wanted to be a painter!

But no, you really want to be a whore!

Did you, did you enjoy it? Was it nice?

What are you laughing at, you whore?!

You slut! You slut!

And I gave you everything...

I'm the only one who loved you. You are my... project.

History says, she lost her mind.

And they took her away...

Why are you silent?!

Why?!

Why?

Why are you silent?

Why are you silent?

Why?!

The leaves of fall

all fell to the ground

it reminds me

of the place where I was born

I long for it so

and weep for it

but now I see

it's all come to an end.

I long for it so

and weep for it

but now I see

it's all come to an end.

"The State Asylum.

The patient: Slava Ra�kaj, a painter.

After 6 months' therapy she is much better.

The chief theologian personally sent her

a set of painting tolls, and she did show some interest.

I recommend to entice her to work.

The third year of therapy is going well.

The patient is calm, but we still can't reach her.

She asks for nothing, won't do anything.

Her sitting position points to aggressiveness.

She received a visit from her father and her brother.

Her face shone from joy when she noticed them.

Ever since her admittance, she's never been that happy.

She greeted them cordially.

She wanted to leave with them immediately.

She took her father's hat, put it on her head

and wore it for some time."

After her visitors had left, she became restless,

and smashed her head against a window.

She forcefully tried to leave through the door

and started rapping against it.

Although I died a hundred years ago,

I still have a good image, don't I?

I can still advertise something.

But what?

I really don't know what to choose.

A natural drink, Slava!

"Slava" perfume, for a woman who knows what she wants.

A cosmetic collection for a sensitive soul.

"Slava", an icon of the national culture!

She is successful, she is yours!

My success formula is simple...

Death!

"March 29, 1906.

Her body became more and more feeble,

lying in apathy in her bed, until this morning,

when at 7.30 she passed away."

Downloaded From www.AllSubs.org