Original subtitles

Dad, Olinda, Ana Petra...

...recording.

March 4th, 1990,

Hi, again, I'm in NY.

It doesn't even seem I've been here over a month.

I feel like an Indian coming to the city.

Everything's so ahead, it bakes time to get used to.

It's good but takes time.

Here you gotta think small, aim small,

or the city swallows you up.

March 20th,

I started taking some divine singing classes.

To sing open fascinates me,

I'm even learning Italian, German, to sing better.

Dancing's cool too.

For once, I'm really dancing,

not just modern jazz, but butch, flamenco...

everything.

I was a bit against acting classes, they like everything you do.

Then I met this teacher, Modica, he's a real director,

demanding a lot of us.

He even recommended me for my first casting test!

“Filming?

“She's looking!'

“...knows who's Elena, Petra..."

“What an actress, lots 01 expression...'

“Isn't there a way to film without your knowing, Elena?'

Why? You want to film me...

"Without you noticing.“

“Natural.”

“Cause when you notice, you change.”

I change?

"When filming you change.

When not, you're different.”

How am I?

“More natural.'

So...

Please, Pedro, bring the Dermil.

"We're out of baby cream.“

Look...

This beautiful girl...

is my sister!

“Move your leg a bit Olinda."

Wait!

“Pull the curtain.”

“Sing, Petra!'

“Wait, I'm taking a bath.“

“You can sing in the bath.“

I can't sing, dance and take a bath.

“Yes you n!“

I'm soaping up. I can't sing!

“You said you'd sing.'

I won't sing.

“Then I'm leaving.“

“Action! Clapper!'

Who's there?

“Mrs. Valquiria."

“I always film improvising. Do this, do that...

Never know where people are going,

always moving.'

“Put on some music.'

“I'm dancing with the moon.'

Come back.

Choose me, take me.

“I though'! you weren't coming, had run away with a young girl.

I'm sick with love.

Touch me,

I tum to water.'

Love was this,

Mug-Among,

the bell

and its song.

“You're going to be 7...

ifs the worst age.

I'm going to live far...

we won't see each other for a while.

But I'm giving you this shell.

Whenever you miss me, put it over your ear.

I'll also have a shell

and this way we can talk.“

“You look alike.“

“You really look alike!'

“Very mixed, you and her...

your smile, the way you pucker your mouth.'

“The forehead, very alike.'

“Your small hands, so delicate...

She had big hands... powerful... I loved holding her hand.'

“You and your sister didn't lookalike then.

Later many of her traces appeared in you.'

“Your eyes... are the same!'

“Impressive, amazing.'

“Deep set eyes of a sparrow.'

“You're so very like Elena.

Incredible. You've her temperament...

You look like her...

At times I call you Elena!”

April 20th,

My life's better than ever.

Springs here and it seems the whole city's in heat

While I don't get in a university

I learn all I can in open courses.

I spend the days running from class to class,

but it'sgreat.

I do breathing exercises, singing and no one minds...

May am,

Last week I met Coppola.

He even invited me to see shootings of Godfather Ill.

Who knows I get a small part

I've goosebumps thinking of it.

June 3rd,

I see myself in the train window,

how much weigh'! I gained in 3 days,

what decadence...

When I eat I don't feel like stopping.

I want more,

keep thinking what's next,

but it starts to finish

and I get sad.

No more.

But I'll eat more.

I want to go to the end, even knowing there's no end.

But in 4 days I'll recover, totally.

In 7 days I lose 10 lbs and do great photos with Marcelo,

as model and actress.

There, it'seasy.

Now I feel fat and empty.

The train takes long, to make things worse.

I'd like my Dad, Mom and sister with me now.

Can my roots pierce asphalt,

pipes and buildings,

to survive and bear fruit?

Yes,

if my roots were strong,

big.

But I feel my seed hasn't even sprouted yet.

So,

probably in a city,

if it sprouted,

small and sickly it would grow.

I want to be really thin.

The more I say it the more I eat.

“Do you have the address... the number of the building?

Are you sure it's76th?'

“I do, but it'snot with me now.”

“I think it'scloser this way, I'm not sure.“

Want to go this way to see?

I don't think it's this block,

I think it'sthat one.

“Mom...”

I don't think it's this one.

There was something here...

some artist thing.

31.

“Is if?'

Must be.

The owner lived there and downstairs...

We rented the two above... On top were other tenants.

“Want to ring the bell?”

It asks to leave message and phone number.

“Do you remember if it was here?“

Yes.

“Sure?”

Almost certainly.

I thought there was a small building on the other comer.

From there I'll know for sure.

How beautiful this tree! Look here, from the bottom.

So wonderful.

See me?

September 10th,

My vocal chords are hurt,

always have been.

It's not just ice, the cold wind,

tension, anxiety,

but mostly an awareness of the fear,

the lack of love for myself,

for my voice.

Maybe I need a special therapy

to de-traumatize and take this mesh out

of my chest and throat,

that before didn't let me breathe

and now doesn't lei me speak,

nor sing.

She told me she felt

a huge emptiness here.

She felt lonely, a lack of love.

Felt a terrible loneliness.

She stayed in one room,

Petra in another.

I got a bit impatient and told her

to make an effort,

it wasn't good for you to see her so down.

She got up angry and left saying she'd kill herself.

I tried grabbing her, I was hall dressed.

She got in the elevator... I got desperate.

This body is sick.

Life made it totally sick.

Totally.

That out of control self returned

and I act as though an actress,

I see all as on a film screen:

"My rhythm. my breathing,

the eyes becoming different.

The worlds empty,

deserted,

ifs no use waiting for anyone.

You're alone,

completely alone.

What are you going to do?

I'll degrade myself

and go down...

this drain.

Now I'm getting in it.

Good.

She was sitting on the bed, I sat down...

She said,

“An for me is everything, without art I'd rather die.

If I can't be an artist,

better to die.”

I said, “Elena...it's not like that.

Why did you go back to theatre class?

We made a deal you wouldn't.

You wouldn't go...'

She didn't do theatre for a month.

She said,“Then nothing has any meaning for me.”

I said, “We made a deal.

Why go if it makes you feel so bad...

Wail.“

I said,

“I waited for you, I'm so tired,

and have to leave early at 5.”

“Will you look after Petra?" She nodded.

She lay down on her bed.

I said, “I'll come back early, as soon as it ends.

You'll wait for me? Take re of Pena?'

I went to my room and she started sobbing.

I didn't go back there.

She cried for about 10 minutes,

then stopped.

At 5 in the morning I went to her again,

“Here's the alarm clock so you take Petra to school.”

She nodded and went on sleeping.

“This mystery,

I feel dark, in darkness,

which will never end.

I don't dare wish to work in theater,

cinema, dance, singing.

'Cause I lived them and moments later

I no longer had their light,

and didn't know what for nor why I did them,

and the same sadness took over me.“

This day everyone ms out,

the guy rang all apartments

to get someone to open to save Elena,

but nobody came, no one ms here.

I asked them to help take her quick, they didn't want to carry her...

wanted to wait for the ambulance.

“Heel so sick. If only I could vomit.

Not even that.

I feel weak,

a coward and ashamed before life and everyone.

I want to die.

Reason?

So many it's ridiculous to mention.

I give up

Because my heart's so sad

I feel I have the right to no longer wander

with this body that occupies space

and keeps on shatering what I have that's so...fragile.'

There was some blood on the walls,

a syringe and a knife.

There was a table in the comer

with a word-processor where she'd been writing.

When we came in

she was lying on the bed.

From that side to this.

In the middle of the bed, like this.

I want to disappear.

I remember...

I remember.

They came with this interrogation,

asking questions for hours...

Was she drugged?

I said no, they kept asking instead of attending her...

They took so long.

She started to cough, sat up faint in bed,

coughing.

It's when she vomited. I screamed and they came

and took her to dean out her lungs.

I'm dancing with the moon.

When I told you Elena died,

the first thing you said was “It hurts my feelings.”

You started to cry

and asked for your cuddly elephant. Someone got it and you kept him on your lap like this...

They got H, you kept it on your lap...

Guilt is...

the head catching fire.

The pain 01 guilt.

Anguish, is here...

And then...

guilt...tchaa...

The pain is so unbearable,

the physical suffering,

It seems the only way out is death.

Nothingness.

But how could I leave you alone?

This story ran in my head:

“If I'd arrived home, found Elena dead...

I'd rent a car, put you and her in it,

drive off a cliff and all would end.'

So I understood... such stories,

“Killed family and committed suicide.'

But this was no solution,

I couldn't do this to you,

my little seven-year-old.

It wasn't a way out.

It was just...

My despair,

a torment in the head.

It's almost like I couldn't feel...

...and nothing comes back. An emptiness.

I criticize myself a lot... all the time

...especially sex, without love it's a poison.

It's like there's...

a being in me that hates me.

I'd dive under in this bath to erase it all,

sleep forever.

I started wanting to die when I was 13,

up to 16.

Three to four years...

The first crisis I remember was in my room,

I drew in front of the minor my face,

in dark blue, purple, black.

With many creases, as if I were old...

old and tragic.

Then...

on the eve of Elena's death,

she looked in her closet for a poster.

When she found it, I saw...

it was of the play Elektra, so much like my drawing.

I remembered it well.

She hung it on her wall

the night she did the staging...

of death.

“If she convinces me life's not worth H,

I have to die with her.”

“Going over that film...

...All I could've done different.”

Where is...

Where is...