Original subtitles

Previously on Genius...

Move in with me. Think how wonderful it would be.

APOLLINAIRE: This is Géry Pieret.

PIERET: Consider these a token of our new friendship.

PICASSO: You stole them?

-From the Louvre? -I liberated them.

There is a small delivery fee-- 50 francs.

-FERNANDE: Opium. -PICASSO: Have you tried it?

I want to make you happy, at least for a little while.

I am not your prisoner!

I made a mistake. I don't know what I would do if I lost you.

Pablo Picasso,

meet Henri Matisse.

I see you've already met, uh, Monsieur Braque.

He's the youngest of the "wild beasts," as they call us.

-What do you want? -You haven't surfaced in months.

Why do you care, Braque? We barely know each other.

I would like to change that.

I really do admire your work.

Oh, it's ghastly, Pablo.

That is the most astute art critique

you've ever given, Gertrude.

FERNANDE: Congratulations.

You said you wanted to offend. You've done it.

*

So, what is it like living with the most...

famous artist in the world?

We work. We go to museums.

We laugh.

And does he ask you to cook and clean for him, huh?

Like a good little wife?

Of course not.

-We make each other happy. -Right.

You get the rich old mentor,

and, uh, he gets the pretty, young mistress.

-You're determined to be cynical. -(laughs)

Well, I have no money... have no fame.

I just have the nagging thought that...

mmm, I should have kissed you

the first time I saw you at Rozsda's.

I had no idea you even noticed me.

(clears throat)

He's so old. Ugh. Does he take lots of naps?

(both laugh)

He's got more energy than I do.

-Oh. Really? -Mm. He works all night.

And then at dawn, he comes to bed,

and we make love all morning.

-So, Luc, tell me about Tunisia. -Well, I'll be teaching

at a small art school in Tunis.

I'm looking forward to getting out of Paris.

You should come and visit some time.

You and the old man.

PICASSO: Pack your bags!

Where are we going?

To the Midi. Fresh air, sunshine,

long lunches and lazy afternoons.

-That sounds lovely. -Hmm.

But I'm finally settled into a good routine here.

Ooh, to be settled

is the death of an artist. Mm-hmm.

Well, I'm getting a lot of work done.

(chuckles) Well, you can work there.

Sounds like you've made up your mind.

Well, you could resist me, but, uh, what would be the point?

When you said the Midi, I thought you meant the beach.

Oh, the sea is, uh, not far.

It's 80 kilometers that way.

I better pick up some groceries before the shops close.

-I'll go with you. -No, no. Stay with me.

I want to show you the rest of the house.

Would you mind, um, getting some ham and cheese... bread?

Oh, uh, and five or six eels.

And also I-I-I will need onions and, uh,

butter, sugar, salt pork, uh, flour, and celery.

Yeah, okay. Yeah, well. Do you like eels?

(chuckles)

Not particularly.

In my stew, you will love them.

(chopping)

You cook, I'll, uh... I'll clean.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

If you clean up, I won't be able to find anything.

Just-just leave it like that.

It's a work meant to shock, to challenge.

I would like to exhibit it in my gallery.

Once it's finished.

It is finished.

You should go.

Pablo, I'm sure Herr Kahnweiler meant no offense.

Thank you so much for coming.

-I'm sorry I upset him. -No. He's always upset.

It is, uh, part of his charm.

Did you have to be so rude?

-I liked him. -Well, he certainly felt it.

I cannot recommend him enough.

He's honest, discerning,

and he's buying up all the most innovative work.

You mean, like Matisse?

Among others.

You have not told me what you think of it yet.

It reminds me of El Greco.

The reflection of form is similar, but...

where El Greco believed in grace,

this has a savage, apocalyptic power.

It is completely new.

But I am sorry, Pablo,

as it was for poor El Greco,

it will be years before people understand what you have done.

So they'll appreciate me...

-(can clatters) -...when I'm dead and buried?

-Go easy on that. -I never go easy.

On anything.

You know, you don't have to live in squalor

and chaos to make great art.

Who are you to tell me how to live?

You have got to clean up, get out of this slum

before you go mad like Van Gogh,

slice off your ear and die in a gutter somewhere.

It's time for you to go.

Matisse needs his paints mixed.

(laughter)

-Ready? -Ah.

-Set. Go. -Yeah.

(laughs, squeals)

Ah!

Ah! Oh!

How? How on earth did you do that, Wiegels?

My mother taught me. She's an alcoholic.

-Uh-huh? -The trick is to open your throat.

So your father must be a very happy man, huh?

-(laughter) -Max!

Uh...

I love it.

Why?

Well, the colors,

the sense of movement, the...

FERNANDE: Oh, stop pretending, Karl.

Everyone hates it.

JACOB: Pablo.

Pablo, I believe that your dipsomaniacal,

debauched new neighbor has a perfect remedy

to lift your spirits, huh?

Uh...

(Jacob chuckles)

Pass me the pipe.

Hmm. How much?

Two francs.

(clears throat)

You-you can have it for five francs, Monsieur Picasso.

The canvas is good. You can paint right over it.

(scoffs) Are you mad?

It's a masterpiece.

-The artist, you know him? -Artist?

H-He's a customs clerk. Henri Rousseau.

Do you know where I can find him?

(knocking on door)

Monsieur Rousseau? Pablo Picasso.

I... I wrote to you.

Yeah. Come in.

How are things in Cairo?

I think you may have confused me with someone else.

No, no. Come in.

I had no idea you Egyptians were so...

timorous.

Guillaume.

-What are you doing here? -What does it look like?

We are having our portrait done.

Pablo, allow me to introduce

my new paramour and companion in chaos,

Marie Laurencin.

You are aware he is an utter degenerate?

-That's why I fell in love with him. -(laughs)

ROUSSEAU: Monsieur Picasso,

would you care to assess my progress?

A perfect likeness, wouldn't you say?

Yes. (chuckles)

You've captured them exactly.

(Apollinaire laughing)

That old idiot's a joke.

(both laughing)

PICASSO: If you feel that way,

why are you paying him to paint your portrait?

Our love is a mad thing.

It must be... immortalized

by an utter madman.

I'm going to hang it above my chamber pot.

Everybody deserves a good laugh when they take a piss.

(laughing)

You two are wrong about Rousseau.

The way he distorts proportions,

uses unnatural colors.

His work is strange. Primitive.

He does not care what people think.

Least of all two barbarians...

like you.

(both laughing)

You, my friend, have been smoking too much opium.

(both laughing)

You wasted our money on that?

Cost less than all the perfume you bought.

And I suppose it's better than your big ugly whore painting.

I'm going to throw Rousseau a huge party.

Invite everyone.

-Drinks, entertainment, a feast. -You complain about me

buying a few bottles of perfume.

Now you want to host a banquet for some nobody.

He's worked in obscurity for years.

But he's a genius.

It's just... nobody realizes it yet.

He deserves to be celebrated.

Are you talking about him or you?

*

(takes deep breath)

PICASSO: Ladies and gentlemen,

introducing our most honored guest,

Monsieur Henri Rousseau!

FERNANDE: Your Highness.

Oh. What a gorgeous goddess

-descended from Olympus is this? -(laughs)

Uh, Fernande,

uh, daughter of Bacchus,

god of wine, revelry,

and, uh, madness.

(chuckles): Oh.

You and I shall be great friends.

(Apollinaire clears throat loudly)

Uh, Picasso asked me to compose

some lines in your honor, monsieur.

"Look how young the city is,

"And you...

still only a toddler."

(laughter)

"You the lovely lily,

"A red-haired flame,

"A vain...

-peacock." -(laughter)

You listening to this twaddle?

Look. His masterpiece.

APOLLINAIRE: "In joy and desperation,

"The brandy you sip burns in your throat,

"Let the sun...

beheaded be."

ROUSSEAU: Friends,

gods...

and serfs.

Only with love can we live,

and, uh, only with joy

can we work.

All hail the customs clerk.

(laughter)

And only with vegetables

can we make palaces for kings and queens.

(laughter)

(clapping, shouting)

Quite a party.

Where's Matisse?

Must have a colorful painting to finish.

-Needs to organize his pigments. -Uh-huh.

(chuckling quietly)

FERNANDE: My goodness, Henri, monsieur.

It seems my brains are on fire.

No. No, no, no, my dear.

I love my crown.

(laughter)

JACOB: He's as daft

as a dandelion!

If canvas wasn't so abrasive,

I would cut up his picture and use it to wipe my ass.

I have seen your work, Wiegels.

That man is a true artist.

A master.

You are nothing but a fraud.

ROUSSEAU: I cannot thank you enough.

I am the one who should be thanking you.

You've inspired me.

(Rousseau groans)

You... discovered me.

And in one night, you brought sweetness and glory

to a... a lifetime of struggle.

I hope this happens to you someday.

We are the best painters in the world.

(groans): Me in the modern style,

and you...

in the Egyptian.

(mumbles)

*

First Casagemas.

Now Wiegels.

What are you talking about?

I abandoned Carles, and...

I insulted Wiegels.

It's my fault again.

(Picasso sighs)

He was...

a sweet soul.

Harmless.

And I was cruel to him.

He was a calamity.

Don't blame yourself.

What are you doing?

Braque was right.

No more of this.

(sighs)

Maybe if we smoke just a little.

Think of Spain.

The mountains.

And the blue sky.

Close your eyes.

-(screams) -God! What?

What's going on?

Oh.

Oh, my God, they're everywhere.

Y-You know that I am a Scorpio.

It's my zodiac sign. Yeah.

It's not funny. They're poisonous.

Dora was stung once.

She's still alive.

You came here with Dora?

Yeah, of course. This is her house.

(laughs)

Wasn't it nice of her to lend it to us?

Oh, yes, I'm so grateful.

-Uh, where are you going? -To get a broom.

Hey, Françoise.

Françoise, Françoise. (chuckles)

Leave it. It's just that y-you have to learn to be,

um...

more messy.

Relax. (chuckles)

Come back to bed.

I'm not sleeping in there. Not with these things.

We can sleep in another room.

Just choose one.

It's all the same to me.

As long as I am with you.

Ah, all right.

PICASSO: Oh.

(sighs) Is this messy enough for you?

Ah.

(Picasso grunts)

(Françoise laughs)

BRAQUE: You really cleaned up.

Yes. And unlike Van Gogh,

I still have both my ears.

(laughs)

Come in.

*

My God.

You've been busy.

What do you think?

It's completely new.

It is because of you.

You inspired me.

Your brothel painting.

It showed me how to, uh...

see things...

differently.

For 400 years, art has failed to evolve

because of this obsession with perspective.

But... it's a trick of the eye.

The vanishing point, it takes...

everything away from the viewer.

Yes. You're right.

What we must do is

make the vanishing point...

vanish.

*

That is exactly what I've been trying to do.

I knew if anyone would grasp it, it would be you.

PICASSO: We must do more

than challenge the rules of perspective.

All the rules--

light, color, form--

must be questioned.

We have to rip everything apart

to create a new kind of painting.

We should submit our work to the Autumn Salon.

Start the revolution.

Matisse is a judge this year.

Anything I put forward, he will dismiss.

You submit.

-You are throwing me to the lions? -No.

You're his protégé.

Whatever you show, he will like it.

And imagine how angry he is going to be

when he realizes that by approving of you,

he will be approving of me.

You are working with Picasso, aren't you?

The angular planes,

the distortion...

I see that horrific painting of his here.

We are trying to do something new.

You just don't understand it.

I'm sorry, Georges,

but... I cannot recommend this work.

PICASSO: Matisse is an idiot.

You have to admit, Pablo, these new paintings you're doing,

they aren't easy to understand.

You're taking his side?

Of course not.

I just don't want you to be disappointed again.

You worked so hard on that...

and look what happened.

I can't work here.

FRANCOISE: It's no good.

I tried to be looser, like you told me to, and I...

I can't find the form in it.

It's just lying there, lifeless.

(Picasso stammers)

If your work doesn't give you trouble,

it won't be good.

(horns playing)

What are those horns?

(chuckles) They are calling us to a celebration.

It's Bastille Day.

(chuckles) Yeah. Let's go.

-Huh? Come on. Let's... -I've got to work...

Ah, let's have some fun.

Do it later. Yeah?

Pablo, I can't whip off two masterpieces a day like you.

(Picasso scoffs, chuckles)

Y-Y-Y-You think too much.

You know, you're, you're torturing yourself

with, uh, with critical thought.

You need an adventure.

(blowing loudly)

What are you doing?

PICASSO: Joining them.

(Picasso chuckles)

What am I supposed to do?

It's, uh,

it-it's just for men. Stay here.

I'll be back. Enjoy yourself!

You asked me to come with you!

Do you think it's finished?

Absolutely.

It is your best yet.

(chuckles)

ROUSSEAU: She wrote

to say she could not marry me.

I'm so sorry.

I know how fond of her you are.

But don't worry, Henri, you will find someone else.

Huh.

Be happy you have Pablo, my dear.

Sometimes I'm not sure that I do.

He's been away for weeks.

Never writes back.

I'm sure he's, uh, busy working.

If he can pick up a brush, why can't he pick up a pen?

But he is in a forest of creation,

full of thorn thickets and clawed beasts.

But he will follow the bread crumbs back to you.

And everything will be good again.

GERTRUDE: I'll take that one,

that one and the one to the right of the door.

You actually like them?

Like them?

Pablo... you've reinvented painting.

What do you think, Mr. Kahnweiler?

I'll take the other 25.

That's quite a gamble, isn't it?

Not at all.

One day these will hang in the Louvre.

(chuckles)

*

(knock on door)

APOLLINAIRE: My God.

Pieret.

Aren't you going to invite me in?

Uh... Marie!

Um, allow me to introduce a long, lost friend of mine,

Géry Pieret.

That is quite an outfit.

It's what everyone wears in America these days.

So, what brings you back to Paris?

Ah, all kinds of opportunities.

But while they come to fruition,

I was hoping I could stay with you.

Uh, my life is a bit, uh,

more crowded now.

But I brought you a gift.

Only a few days.

I promise.

Don't touch me.

What's wrong?

You whisked me out of Paris,

where I was perfectly happy, to go to the Midi.

And it's not the real Midi--

it's some horrid village stuck in a mountain.

You keep telling me to be looser,

which is just making me doubt myself.

And then you drag me off to some stupid party,

and you abandon me there.

I'm sorry, Françoise.

Let me make it up to you.

Just go blow your own bugle.

(bugle blaring)

Who do you know in Tunisia?

-A friend of mine. -Hmm.

He's teaching there.

Why don't you read it out loud?

Well, it's addressed to me.

I-I don't mind sharing my mail with you.

Hmm.

For example,

this one is from Marie-Thérèse.

"My darling Pablo,

"the weather was lovely today.

"I love you so much.

"I wish you were here.

"But at least every day that goes by without you

is one day closer to me seeing you again."

It's so beautiful. (chuckles)

(spoon scraping cup)

Sounds to me like she's still in love with you.

Well, it's not my fault she cannot get over me.

Yes, Pablo. Nobody can top you.

-(chuckles) -I bet

you're fighting her off every time you see her.

No.

But she used to be insatiable.

Never turned me down once.

Maybe you should run back to her.

Well, unfortunately, I have some business

in Marseille today with Kahnweiler.

Happy painting.

(Picasso sighs)

*

FERNANDE: Is this supposed to make up

for you abandoning me all summer?

If you prefer the slums,

we can stay in the Bateau-Lavoir.

Can we really afford all this?

My work is selling.

Everyone likes my Cubist paintings.

Except you.

Good morning, madam.

I always dreamed of living in a place like this.

Maybe things will be different between us now.

(whistle blows)

What is it?

BOY: Mona Lisa stolen.

Mona Lisa stolen.

PIERET: I hear your newspaper is offering a reward

for information leading to the painting's recovery.

BOY: Mona Lisa stolen.

Do you know something?

Do you guarantee my anonymity?

Why?

-Because you stole it? -No, but...

I can tell you how the thief or thieves may have done it.

I've stolen from the Louvre, too.

I took this a few weeks ago.

I stole other works as well.

I can give you details of guard shifts,

locks and service entrances,

a broken basement window.

The bastard told them everything.

At least the paper didn't disclose his name.

But the police will figure it out soon enough.

And then they'll be on to you for the statue he gave you,

and me for those Iberian pieces he sold me.

We'll tell the police we didn't know they were stolen.

-It will be our word against Pieret's. -You're missing the point!

In the article, Pieret says an international crime ring

stole the Mona Lisa.

It's an absurd fabrication to cover up his own exploits.

You and I are not French.

We both have art stolen from the Louvre.

They'll accuse us of stealing the goddamn Mona Lisa, too.

We should flee. Go to Spain.

No. If you run, you look guilty.

It's the Mona Lisa.

They will hunt you all over the world.

-Let's just dump the statues in the Seine. -No.

As far as we know, the police have already

identified Pieret and made him talk.

They could be watching us.

If they catch us with those things,

we'll go to prison.

What if we return the statues to the newspaper?

They kept Pieret's name out of it.

They'll do the same for us.

You get too agitated.

I will do it, alone.

APOLLINAIRE: I didn't know what else to do.

When Pieret gave them to me,

I had no idea that they were stolen.

He said he bought them at a shop in Montmartre.

It was only when I read your article

that I became suspicious of their true origin.

Why bring them to me rather than the police?

Since your paper has an interest in this case

-and since the honorable thing, clearly, is for us... -Us?

It was a-a slip of the tongue. For-for me

to return them to the museum,

I have brought them to you with the expectation

that you will do so and leave me out of it.

(grunting, screaming)

Admit you stole the Mona Lisa

and all this will be over.

Who are your accomplices?

(screaming)

Pablo Picasso?

Where were you on the morning of August 21?

(clears throat) At home.

JUDGE: Monsieur Apollinaire has given

a sworn statement that you were with him

at the Louvre, stealing the Mona Lisa.

He is mistaken.

I was not there.

Monsieur Apollinaire has also confessed

to being part of a crime ring,

comprised of you, Monsieur Géry Pieret...

I don't know anything about that.

Do not interrupt me, monsieur.

I'm sorry.

How long have you known Monsieur Apollinaire?

I do not... know him.

In fact, I have never even met him.

The examining judge has decided not to charge you.

You are free to go.

What about Apollinaire?

(overlapping shouting)

*

PICASSO: Françoise?

Françoise?

Where could she have gone?

She grew up. Left you.

Huh. Go get the car.

We have come a long way

since your opium days at the Bateau-Lavoir.

Maybe too far.

Sometimes I wish I could live as a poor man again.

But with lots of money.

May I introduce

Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque,

the founders of the Cubist movement.

It's an honor to meet you both.

Hoffman is a distinguished collector in Berlin.

That's Picasso over there.

Is it?

He's a hard man to get close to.

Yes, he is.

Are you an artist?

I used to be a model.

You have lovely lines.

I am a woman, not a boat.

(chuckles)

Maybe I could paint you sometime.

Glad you came, my friend.

I decided I can't hide out at home forever.

Waiting for the world to forgive me.

You were released.

For lack of evidence.

To the press, that points to a failure

on the part of the Sûreté...

and not to my actual innocence.

It's good to see you, my friend.

Is it?

-(vehicle rumbling) -PICASSO: Hold on. Stop, stop here.

Darling. Darling. Darling.

(panting): I don't understand.

Where, where the-- where on earth are you going?

Marseille.

But I-I told you I was coming back.

(chuckles): Not to be with you.

To catch a ferry to Tunisia.

To... to be with your teacher friend?

You told me I needed an adventure.

I'm taking your advice.

But the adventure is here.

With me. Don't you see?

You... you went through so much, you know,

gave up so much to be with me.

Now you're just going to run off?

Be-Before we have time to build a life together?

In Paris, we were doing that.

Here we're just... strangers.

Then let's tell each other everything.

Until we don't even need to use words anymore.

We can just say what we need

with our eyes... and our hands.

You wanted to go to the beach, so...

...let's go to the beach.

(laughs)

(chuckles)

FERNANDE: He died alone.

We shouldn't have ridiculed him.

FERNANDE: Do you ever wish things could go back

to the way they were?

JACOB: What do you mean?

FERNANDE: We used to have fun together,

(sighs): but now...

Pablo is always with Braque.

Despair, my dear,

is a readily treatable affliction.

Come.

*

(door closes)

PICASSO: What are you doing?

I just want to feel good again.

Give the pipe to me.

You don't know how lonely I feel.

Give it to me!

You ignore me.

You ignore your friends.

You betrayed Guillaume.

He told them I stole the Mona Lisa!

The police beat him up!

I am sorry about that.

But denying him was the only way to clear my name.

What about Guillaume's good name, huh?

You know the newspapers still haunt him?

He let that maniac Pieret back into his life, and mine.

(scoffs) So it's all his fault?

I worked hard to get here.

And I am not going to let Guillaume,

you...

or anyone else make a mess of it.

So that's how it is now?

As long as we don't get in your way, you'll keep us around?

(door slams)

*

*

I've been thinking, uh, we should...

create something together.

I always hoped we would...

collaborate.

Maybe...

something bigger.

More lasting.

Let's make a baby.

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH