Original subtitles

COMMON GROUND

A) THE SKETCHY KILLER B) THAT WHICH WAS NOT

NOTEBOOK

The writer writes:

"Someone who learns to write

can be a person who writes, but never a writer. "

So according to Raymond Chandler, I'm a writer, since I write.

But I don't know if I write well or have my own style.

You don't look for a style.

You have one or you don't. No one knows why.

I should know if I write well or not.

I make a living from it.

From reviewing and analyzing what others write.

I teach literature.

My own self-contempt nurtures my sense of self-criticism.

I don't need a publisher's approval.

If what I've started on turns out to be trash or mediocre,

or lacks the quality I expect from other writers,

and quality is rarely found,

then this draft will never know the elegance of Garamond,

or the vulgarity of any other typography.

Lili will read it, a friend or two, and my son perhaps.

Lili's enough. I write for and because of her.

I don't know if our story is really worth the telling.

There may not even be a story or this may turn into a diary.

I know there's disorder, disappointment, disconcertment.

There's a country destroying us, a world expelling us,

a sketchy killer killing us daily and we don't realize it.

I don't have any answers.

I write out of chaos, in deep darkness.

I've asked for two weeks off. What with the summer courses,

I haven't stopped for two years.

They say teachers don't earn much.

So we can't complain.

Time off and a trip to Madrid. How's that?

We'll spend as much as here. My son will pay for the flight.

Actually he's not "paying."

He works for a computer company and gets mileage points.

- For you. - Thank you.

And he gets free tickets.

How long will you be there?

One week to ten days.

You're lucky having a son who sends you tickets.

My daughter chose our profession, so that's the end of that.

Europe!

Morning, Professor.

Wait!

Did you know about this?

Nothing to do with me. It's a ministry matter.

It came into force less than a month ago.

They cut the education budget and fire or retire.

Hard luck.

Or the black list? I didn't ask to retire.

It's called "official retirement."

It could happen to anybody.

The country's bankrupt. That's that. What can you do?

I can request to stay for another three years.

That you can do something about.

That's the Dean's decision.

Why not just accept things as they are?

You could find another job if you really needed to.

- Don't give me advice. - Coffee?

Tell me you'll ignore my request, but spare me your advice.

I'm not saying no.

But your request depends on certain things.

Honesty, ability, suitability, discipline, ideology.

That's a problem.

Everyone's entitled to their opinions, but sometimes you go too far.

I speak my mind.

Sometimes you're not objective enough.

I can only be subjective. Objects and rectors are objective.

And what are you, Robles?

You see, they'll ask me to describe you, but I don't know how.

You're not a Peronist or a radical.

What can I say in the report?

An anarchist, a Marxist, a leftist?

Sounds old-fashioned.

Say what I'm not.

I'm not inept. I wasn't handpicked like you.

That's hitting below the belt. We may think differently,

but that doesn't give you the right to insult.

No, we don't think differently.

Thinking is something your brain is incapable of.

Put your notebooks away. We won't discuss Hopscotch today.

Those who haven't read it, do so.

Don't be taken in by Cortazar's sense of humor.

It's the most heartbreaking love story I know.

Anyone got a cigarette?

Me.

I hope it gives you the same pleasure as it gave me.

If you aren't moved by it, it's your loss. A light?

Thanks.

- Smoking is allowed now? - Yes.

This time next year you'll be teachers.

You may not know much about literature but enough to teach it.

That doesn't worry me.

But you should remember that "to teach" means "to show."

"To show" is not "to indoctrinate."

It's to give information while also teaching

a way to understand, analyze, and question that information.

If you are stupid enough to believe in revelations or political doctrines,

then go out and preach in churches or from a soapbox.

If you teach, leave superstition outside in the corridor

before you go into the classroom.

Don't make students learn things by heart. That's no good.

What's imposed by force is rejected and soon forgotten.

No child is a better person for knowing by heart

the year of Cervantes' birth.

Make it your aim to teach them to think,

to doubt, to ask questions.

Don't judge them by their answers. Answers aren't the truth.

They only seek a truth that is relative.

The best questions are those asked by the Greek philosophers.

Many have become cliches, but are still valid.

What? How? Where? When? Why?

But if we accept "the objective is the way" as an answer,

that's no good either.

It describes the tragedy of life, but doesn't explain it.

There's a mission I want you all to carry out.

No one's charged you with it,

but I expect you, as teachers, to carry it out.

Awaken in your students the pain of lucidity.

Without limits.

Without mercy.

I hope I pass, though Andrada's very tough.

I hope I pass, though Andrada's very tough.

Criminal Law's a bitch, but I'm ready.

You'll pass, don't worry. You're a good student, pretty, pleasant.

You've got everything going for you.

Look Andrada in the eye and smile. Tell me about it after.

That won't work on him.

Your smile's a knockout. No one could resist it.

If he's human, he'll pass you.

I'd give you top marks.

- Hi. - Hello.

How are you? Double coffee?

Old Parr, double, lots of ice. Coffee later.

- Do you want a bite? - No, thanks.

- Should we grab a table? - No. I'm picking Lili up.

- I've brought you this. - What is it?

Forced retirement.

I can't do anything before the trip, and I may not get the chance after.

Don't worry. We'll do what we have to do.

Go over the Dean's head. Ask what happens if he says no.

- He already said no? - No, but he will.

Don't tell Lili. It will spoil her holiday.

That's great for the heart. Have a cigarette too.

Give me one.

- I've got some. - Give me one.

Here.

With two bypasses, a bad valve... .

- Drop it. - Just for today.

Instead of retirement, I'll ask for a disability pension.

Put those away, Natacha. If he asks for one, don't give it to him.

He sounds like your father, or your grandfather!

- You put up with him? - Just till I find something better!

No, I wouldn't change him for the world.

Some pal, trying to steal your buddy's girl.

You belong on a park bench, feeding pigeons.

It seems so.

Come on. I'm just pulling your leg.

I know, I know.

- Hello. - Hello, gorgeous.

Long face. Anything wrong?

No, nothing's wrong.

- Another run-in with the Dean. - A big one?

Ideological differences.

I told him he was a mindless jerk.

- You okay? - No. Everything's awful.

More homeless, but they cut our budget.

"No funds, cutbacks, the government can't cope."

They may close us down, but it makes no difference.

With no money we can't help anybody.

If the government can't cope, we're all screwed.

Fer!

Coming.

What can I help with?

All that for you? You've drained the bottle.

It's all ice.

Don't ask me to pack. I'm hopeless at it.

At other things too.

What about shirts? Is ten enough?

Yeah, I guess.

- Whatever you think. - Ten.

You'll need to buy some new ones for going out.

- I'll close them when you finish. - Where are you going?

I'm writing.

You all right?

Again, Lili? I'm okay.

Traveling makes me edgy.

Fer?

Fernando, are you okay?

I'm fine, Lili. I'll be out in a minute.

Are you sure?

You feel okay? Need anything?

No, nothing.

Something I ate. I'm okay now.

Go back to bed. Don't worry. I'll be out in a minute.

Chanel Number 5.

- Anything else, sir? - That Sun and Moon.

Right.

Thank you.

I haven't worn this in a long time.

I got you this too.

It's like giving you the universe. The sun, the moon, the stars.

Have you gone mad?

We can't afford this.

We'll never have less than now.

I can't leave you on your own. Thanks.

What else did you get?

A carton of Winston for Pedro.

Pedro's trying to give up smoking. It's really for you.

You've started smoking again.

Just occasionally. Life's short whether you smoke or not.

If you die, it's okay.

But if you have a stroke, I won't change your nappies for you.

Now, that's love!

Can I ask you something?

You've been acting strange since last Friday.

We've never kept things from each other.

Something is wrong. What is it?

Your professor is no longer a professor.

I've been retired.

Carlos is trying to help me stay on for three more years,

but it's unlikely.

I was going to tell you when we got back.

I feel bad seeing you upset, and then hiding it from me.

They suddenly decide that I'm obsolete.

So they kick me out, to vegetate.

They took away my future.

"Don't worry, you'll be dying next."

It stinks, but it's not that bad.

We've been through worse.

How much will you get?

I don't know.

Or when I'll get it.

What I hate is being declared useless.

No one is useless because others say so.

You'll think of something when you feel better.

What worries me is making ends meet and with how much.

We can't work it out now.

Wait till we get back.

And don't say a word to Pedro.

It was a voluntary retirement, and I'm happy.

- Okay? - Okay.

But with that long face, we're busted!

Lili's always been like that.

Lili's always been like that.

You can't hide things from her or lie to her.

Perhaps she's very perceptive

or perhaps my face is like an open book to her.

We took a trip we didn't want to take.

We wanted to see Pedro, but not travel.

Another dependable cliche. "All's ill, that ends ill. "

Mom!

Hello!

- Hello, Javier. - How are you?

- How are you? - Fine, fine.

The address is Fuencarral 25, off the Gran Via.

- The "Hostal Montejano." Know it? - Sure.

But you're coming home with me.

You have no room.

With the kids together, there's a room for you.

If you really came to see me, you won't say no.

And if you stay in Madrid you'll be 30 km away.

It will be a bit cramped, but it's only a few days.

Madrid was really beautiful. Brilliant.

An example of the First World prosperity

we were being pushed away from.

We'd only lived there for six years,

having been invited into exile by the military in 1 9 7 6,

but we didn't feel like tourists.

We felt like we belonged here.

We decided to take things in stride,

and try to enjoy our short stay in that dream world,

before returning to an uncertain future in Buenos Aires.

Pedro's home was our home.

So Fabiana told us, with an icy smile announcing

that she'd do all she could to show us otherwise.

I must admit the place was too small for so many people.

We were all uncomfortable.

Fabiana and the kids ignored us.

We saw Pedro at night, always dining out

at some local restaurant.

Fabiana lent us her car,

so we'd have no excuse for staying at home, her home,

even if we didn't want to go out.

We never stopped for a minute.

We saw new places and returned to others with fond memories.

We felt like tourists but had a good time.

With Lili, I always have a good time.

We like being together.

It gives us great pleasure mixed with serene joy,

even to do simple things.

We can talk, stay silent, do nothing, whatever.

When we're together we feel fine.

I wished my son felt the same way about his wife.

It wasn't the case.

It may be none of my business,

but he made a bad choice, as always.

I say this with impartiality,

though I can't help feeling deeply disappointed.

None of my expectations as a father worked out.

Well, perhaps one.

Pedro is a decent person.

We wanted him to decide how to live

and what to do with total freedom,

but for some strange reason or some genetic short-circuit,

the kid always insisted on taking the wrong decisions.

Fabiana was just one of half a dozen girlfriends

till she got pregnant.

Without pressure, not even from her, Pedro got married.

Without pressure, not even from her, Pedro got married.

Come and live in Madrid.

You'd be closer to the kids and could give me a hand.

If you wanted to.

I'd love to. I love the kids. But you'd say I spoil them.

I wouldn't say that!

They'd be much better off than with some illiterate Indian!

Or some African. We're being invaded.

When Pedro is two and can go to kindergarten,

I want to go back to work.

I really hate having to say I'm a housewife.

I'm a graphic designer not a housewife.

I'm a housewife.

Yes, but that's different.

It's up to Fer. I'm okay anywhere.

But this is your home.

I've always been an exile.

My folks took me from Lerida to France, then to Argentina.

So I never felt homesick. I got to Argentina when I was 20.

But I don't feel Argentinean.

My homeland is my husband.

I suppose they'll pay me. It probably won't be much less

than what I got running from one school to another.

I got tired of it all.

For a long time, I felt like a windbag,

like no one was listening to me.

It wasn't like that.

You got tired, that's all.

So what are you going to do?

- You can't just do nothing. - I'm writing.

I don't know what. Maybe a novel.

That's great.

I'm worried about how much you'll get.

I don't think you'll manage.

We'll manage.

- Are you still writing? - No.

- Not even in your free time? - I haven't got any.

I'll go down in history

as the writer who published a novel nobody read and who vanished.

That's a pity. It was very good.

Thank you, thank you.

Look, dad, let me suggest something.

Move to Madrid. To live.

I'm okay for money.

I'll find you an apartment in Madrid,

or here in the development.

With your pension and what I give you, you'll be okay.

And you can do whatever you like, no worries.

- You must earn a good salary. - Better than good.

I'll be helping you out, without inconveniencing us.

This is another world.

It's a real country. I've got the house, two cars.

The kids will be able to study what and where they like.

Who could ask for more?

What do you say?

Ask Mom what she thinks.

In Athens, there was a special law,

exempting children from taking care of their parents,

if the parents hadn't taught them properly,

hadn't taught them an art or science.

You're exempted.

I can't let you help me.

As ideals and goals, you've chosen everything

your mother and I taught you to despise.

You gave up what you liked most

for all that computer shit and the chance

to earn lots of money and a bourgeois life.

It's not your fault.

We got the teaching wrong.

We went wrong somewhere.

What should I have done?

Keep driving a taxi, starve, shit on my kids' future to keep writing?

Not sell out.

You should have stayed true to your vocation.

Do you love your work?

It's fun. I'm good at it.

It's fun? What crap!

How can you talk to me of the future,

of your family's future, when it's all an illusion.

A trap set by the system to trap people,

to enslave them through fear of the fucking future!

What future have you got?

Are you clairvoyant?

Did they tell you at work that accidents,

cirrhosis, cancer, a shot from a thief's gun don't happen?

Maybe I failed you, okay.

But have you forgotten how to think for yourself?

Now you'll talk about hope, about faith, brother,

and fucking salvation!

- Keep it down. You're shouting. - Who's shouting?

You don't control the future.

Like it or not, you're just a shitty immigrant, stealing a Spaniard's job.

When the recession hits your company,

you'll be the first to get kicked out.

I am not a shitty immigrant.

I'm Spanish, with Spanish nationality.

You know I don't give a shit about patriotism. You sold out.

You renounced your country for money.

You're not Spanish.

I won't say what you are.

You know better than anyone.

- Don't pay him any attention. - Did you hear him?

He does it to annoy you, not because he means it.

- See you later. - At home?

No, not today. We'll find a hotel, don't worry.

- Don't tell me not to smoke now. - I want one too.

Shall we get a taxi?

Let's walk a bit.

I went too far.

A bit.

To say you were an asshole would be an understatement.

- Let me carry something. - It's not heavy.

I'm sick of being a tourist and shopping.

The jacket's lovely. It was very cheap.

What are we doing here?

- Let's go to Lerida then go home. - Not Lerida.

Too expensive. We can go home whenever you like.

Whatever. A day more, a day less.

Pedro, the plane leaves tomorrow night.

Meet us in town for a drink.

Then we'll see each other.

Okay. I'll call you in an hour's time. Bye.

A previous engagement at work he can't cancel.

I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want to see you.

Don't take his side.

Let's go out, Lili.

Let's leave Madrid doing the only thing I'll miss back home.

Let's try a few good wines

and finish with a cocktail at Chicote's or the Bellas Artes.

I'll ring him in an hour.

- Have a good flight. - Is it boarding yet?

Gate 1 2.

- Which gate? - 1 2.

I knew it.

Thanks for coming.

- I was afraid you'd boarded. - We were late.

- Her fault. - Of course it was.

Look, forget what I said. I wanted to piss you off. Sorry.

We're both the same when it comes to winning an argument.

We say things to bug each other, even things that aren't true.

You know that. We were always the same.

This time it was different.

- What you said was right. - No, it was bullshit.

I did what I thought was best.

- I think I'm shit too. - I never said that.

You deserve to be happy. When I see you down, I get angry.

I don't have the balls to go back.

The country is in bad shape, but that's an excuse.

People still get by.

I feel like a traitor, someone who ran away.

A traitor to what?

You were kicked out, like I was, like everyone who leaves.

Your country died, it doesn't exist.

So forget the homesickness and see things as they are.

You have to survive.

Don't feel guilty about anything.

In questions of survival, there are no rules.

They got rid of them.

But don't give in. Sell out but don't give up.

Hold on because some day you'll be able to be yourself.

Don't surrender.

Some day is the future. And the future's an illusion, right?

The future's an invention. But that's philosophy.

Life is something else.

The future exists, it can be bought.

You're working your balls off for your kids' future.

And that's how it should be.

You're giving them a future and somewhere to grow up.

A good place. Now forget the damn guilt.

All right, I will.

But I don't know if you mean all that or just want me to feel better.

Today he does. He's saying what he believes. Trust him.

I meant what I said before.

If you do decide to come and live here, count on me.

- Despite the law. - What law?

The law of Athens.

We'll discuss it at home, all right?

If we come, it'll be because you're here.

When we got back, we realized how good it had been in Madrid,

despite spending more than we should have,

despite the row with Pedro, despite all his sadness.

You come back home with a secret hope

that some miracle has changed everything.

But in the street, you see that hope dashed,

with nothing to soften the blow.

Like so many other times, I began to wonder,

what the hell we were doing here,

what we expected,

why we didn't get out altogether.

Also, like so many other times, I couldn't find an answer.

So we stayed where we were.

- Hi, how are you? - Good.

- Have a good trip? - Fantastic.

- Is Carlos expecting you? - I can wait.

He spends all his time on the phone trying to get paid.

This month we can't pay the rent.

- Dr. Solla, a client. - Thank you, my dear.

No good news, I'm afraid.

I can't go over the Dean's head.

So consider yourself retired, and fucked too.

With luck they'll start paying you in 2 or 3 months' time.

- How much? - The minimum.

I put in more than the minimum rate.

They give what they can. If things improve, you'll get more.

That's all there is for now.

Can't we take them to court or something?

You could try.

But get another lawyer. I'd lose you as a friend.

Suing the State takes 3 years, at the very least.

You might win

if they don't change the laws and if the State still exists.

Take what they give you.

I will but it's not enough to get by on.

- Haven't you got any savings? - A little bit.

We could mortgage the apartment.

I could sell the car, but it's old.

Trouble with a mortgage is you have to pay it off later.

- In dollars. - How would I raise the cash?

That's just it. Forget the mortgage.

I'll think of something.

Run some figures. Budget. Then we'll see.

- How big is your apartment? - 1 1 0 meters, more or less.

It's well located. You could get a good price for it.

Then buy something smaller, or rent.

I could invest any money you had left over

and you might get by.

The apartment's Lili's, not mine.

It belongs to both of you.

It's not that. Lili's folks left it to her.

They worked hard to do that.

I can't just decide to sell it. I couldn't do that to Lili.

Ask her what she thinks.

She'll say if we need to sell it, then go ahead, but it will hurt her.

It's not just anything. It's a part of her life.

Perhaps you're right. But Lili's not like you.

You're a walking tango, sentimental and corny.

Food, what did we say? 300?

- More or less. - I'll put half of that.

The car, repairs, fuel. We'll take the bus.

- Cinema, videos, books. Half? - Lf we have anything left, we'll see.

I don't know how.

We stay in, forget wine, coffee,

keep phone calls to a minimum, but it still doesn't add up.

I don't know, Lili. I just don't know.

Don't worry. I'll work it out.

You were never good at numbers.

We'll do it backwards.

We'll make do with what we've got.

We've got enough for two more months.

Let's think and try and come up with something.

Let's think.

Computers, French. Exactly.

I think an interview's important.

Okay, thanks anyway.

We soon realized that thinking was all we could afford.

Though nobody would pay us for that.

But nobody would pay us to work either.

They said we were out of the market.

Out of sync, out of the system,

out of everything.

We were "outside, " excluded, dispensable,

disposable.

We stopped paying the house taxes.

We asked Carlos to lend us money.

Not much. Something to get by on.

In the end Lili decided to do what I never wanted her to.

PRIVATE LESSONS

I felt guilty about everything that was happening to us.

FOR SALE

- Hi, gorgeous. Drink? - No.

- Let's go home. Have you paid? - Yeah, let's go.

This is not bad for you. It's killing you. Understand?

They didn't say smoke less.

- They said stop altogether. - Okay, but just once in a while... .

Do I look stupid?

At first the agency said we'd soon sell the apartment,

but as time passed they weren't so optimistic

and said it was a bad moment, due to the crisis.

Always the crisis.

Ever since I can remember, there's been a crisis

and corrupt politicians have held power.

Also due to the crisis,

on Saturdays people paraded through the house.

It was a cheap way of getting out.

I drew away, and took refuge in notebook 1 9.

In silence.

I let Lili look after everything.

I didn't want to, but I couldn't do anything else.

As in a nightmare, I wanted to move but couldn't.

It's lovely.

Zacharias said, that's the owner,

he said there's much more to it than this.

He recorded this himself to promote it.

He's not very good at it. It's off the beaten track,

in an area of farmhouses, but still only 30 km from Villa Dolores,

and you've got everything there.

It's like living here but with a better climate.

It's really not bad.

The owner wants to sell right away.

He's offering it as partial payment.

60% cash for your house, the farm the other 40%.

He should have sold it by now.

He pays the cash, we sign the contract of sale and then wait.

If it's hard selling this place, imagine a farmhouse in Cordoba.

Beggars can't really be choosers.

He wants to move out now.

He lost his wife a year ago and came to live here, I think.

He doesn't want to live there alone.

He's a definite buyer. The only one.

I'd think about it if I were you.

Nothing to think about.

We're too old to act like hippies

living in a commune of self-sufficient farmers,

which is a euphemism for drugged-up idiots.

On a farm you don't starve.

You'd have a farm with chickens, pigs and hens.

Not cows, though. That'd be too much work.

"What's for dinner?" "Roast suckling pig."

If I had the money, I'd buy that farmhouse.

For yourself or Natacha too? Would you go?

- What are you on about? - Carlos's farmhouse.

- He wants to be a farmer. - Great. Drop me a line every so often.

They say they'll be with you till the end of the world.

To the end of time.

Till the world ends, not the ends of the earth.

- So, what's with this farm? - A place for us.

He's trying to convince us that the countryside is paradise.

Shall we go to the table?

I hate the countryside.

And the mountains depress me.

I might consider a place by the beach, but not in the country.

I'm a city girl, an asphalt woman.

- Don't say what you're thinking. - A street-walker.

- You said it. Isn't that the same? - Bite this.

What a slut. You'll have to excuse her.

Her generation lacks manners.

- It's better than ever. - Delicious, Lili.

Your cooking's divine. You're beautiful, clever, charming.

- What are you still doing with him? - I don't know.

Let's go to the farmhouse. Imagine this cooked in a clay oven.

He and Natacha can stay here. They'll have a great time on a bench,

breathing in car fumes, trying to talk over the noise.

He always wanted to seduce her.

- He's too proud to admit he can't. - You can't seduce her.

Lili, or any woman. It's we women who do the seducing.

Or we let guys think they've seduced us.

- That's it, baby. - He's playing dumb.

Not now. He wants to bust our balls about this farmhouse again!

I'm your friend. It's my duty.

Can you see us killing ourselves working the land?

What about my emphysema and Lili's slipped disk?

I'll get depressed if I go on.

Zacharias is 1 0 years older than you.

There's a guy there, a handyman, who lives nearby.

He does the heavy work, him and his family.

He can run the farm. So that excuse is no good.

- He'd turn me into a landowner. - Don't exaggerate, Fer.

With what the place is worth,

it'd be like having a small house in Buenos Aires.

- He's stuck in the 60s. - Long before that.

Not Marx or Lenin or Che. I won't change the system.

We lost the war some time ago. Those who won it, the masters,

are so entrenched, they can allow the left to exist.

Because it's harmless. The left is no longer a threat.

It's just a badge, a graffiti. Sheer nostalgia.

It's a moral attitude confined to private life.

And the worst thing about the left. Too much respect, contemplation.

The right wins, because it has no morals, no scruples.

"What's worst for you is the best."

You judge the success of the idea, and that's not important.

He's saying what the right says, bastard. And it didn't always win.

Tell me one time when... Wait, he hasn't finished.

- So where were you? - 1 7 89.

- The French Revolution, dear. - I'm not stupid.

They beat us, kicked us, and sent us back to 1 7 89.

What do we expect? What do we demand?

We plead, we don't demand.

Worst of all, we expect an organized, logical world,

and we expect individuals, not the nation, to know

they belong to a community and to work for the common good.

Now that's liberty, equality and fraternity.

Centuries later, we've done nothing.

We still live in 1 7 89.

We could fly a French flag, to feel less guilty.

Don't exaggerate. We're not all guilty, for God's sake.

The accomplices are guilty.

And raise an American flag. Their revolution came first.

Be serious.

- Somebody tell her I am serious. - Coffee?

What Fer's saying is elementary.

But right now, almost everywhere, that's subversive talk.

Almost? Everywhere.

Not Cuba. Don't make that face.

We can discuss good and bad, but Cuba's socialist.

I disagree with one thing you said. Cuba isn't a badge.

Youth! The divine treasure!

Well said.

Fer.

Don't leave me.

Fer!

DINNER OUT TONIGHT WILL CALL YOU

Of all the distilling machines,

the best for price and performance is the French one.

And I can give you a list of the perfume makers I sent letters to.

They were interested and business seemed viable.

At least until a year ago.

You'd have to update costs and profit margins.

I have books on cultivation and distillation.

I haven't planted much.

I should've planted more. Lavender needs two years.

And my idea was to buy the machine and flowering lavender,

to make oil right away.

You had it all worked out.

I know nothing about it, so it's a great help to me.

Lucky you're so well organized.

Obsessive. I'm in everything. I always planned everything,

needed to know what'd happen the next month, the next year.

Except with Laura.

I never thought she wouldn't be there.

I still think she hasn't gone.

She's not here, but she hasn't gone.

I don't know what my friend thinks, Mr. Zacharias,

but you'd be a good partner in this perfume business.

- A consultant maybe. - Good idea.

You've got your wife, you have to go on. I don't.

I don't feel like it. I'm alive and there's no sense to it.

I've considered suicide.

Perhaps it's all a dream and Laura will come and wake me up.

What's going on?

You look lovely.

- Gorgeous. - Don't sit down.

What's the rush?

We're reserved at Puerto Madero and we have to pick up Natacha.

The best of Buenos Aires by night.

- The most expensive, anyway. - On Carlos.

You know Coco Chanel? What about Mr. Coco?

This is Mr. Coco Chanel, the perfume king, the lavender king.

- Tell her, Coco. - How much whisky have you had?

We've sold the apartment. We're moving to the countryside.

- Lf you agree. - Sure, but what's going on?

- What's all this Coco talk? - We'll tell you on the way.

I've put "Dear Pedro,"

the address in Cordoba and the phone number.

I've said we're fine, etcetera, etcetera,

that we're not at all sad

about leaving the place we lived in for so many years.

That we feel the change is for the better.

That we're doing this because we want to,

and not because we have to,

and that perhaps it's given us back our sense of vitality.

One knows, but often forgets,

that all one has are hopes and dreams,

and that's what keeps us going. Etcetera, etcetera.

Come see us soon. "Love. Mom."

We took the wrong turn.

I said it was that other road.

It is this road. It's not my fault if the map's wrong.

Welcome.

- Hello. - You must be Del Medio.

I'm Robles. Fernando. This is Liliana.

Just call me Horacio. It's De Medio.

No "L." People get it wrong and call me Del Medio but it's De.

- No "L." - Zacharias wrote it down wrong.

That old bastard. He did it on purpose.

Whenever he wanted to annoy me, he'd say:

"Hey, Del Medio. Here, Del Medio."

How is he?

Holding up. He sends his best wishes.

He's very fond of you.

And me of him. With you here I'll miss him less.

- I'll take your bags. - No, we'll do that tomorrow.

Then I'll leave you to rest.

If you need anything, call me. My house is just over there.

- See you tomorrow. - Thanks.

De Medio's a genius. He left us some wine.

He's my type of guy. Are you hungry?

And tired, and I need to pee. Where's the bathroom?

Thank you.

For what?

I'll tell you about the different kinds of lavender.

Lavandula officinalis, that's English lavender.

Latilofia or spike/spic lavender.

Lavandula stoecha, that's French lavender.

Lavandula lanata, that's Spanish.

Then there's the hybrid English-spike lavender,

which is more prolific. Zacharias planted it.

But I want to try for English. Less oil but higher quality.

For the European market, we need the best essence.

You're laughing.

We've got visitors.

- Good morning. - Good morning.

This is my family. Ana, my wife.

Micaela, Alicia. This is Lucas.

Say hello, son.

At your service, Mr. Fernando.

Call me "Mr." and I'll call you "Del Medio."

We don't need the "L" or the "Mr."

And forget "at your service."

Though we'd like you and your wife to go on working here.

And I don't know what Zacharias paid you.

Food, housing, a few pesos. Whatever you say, Mr. Fernando.

No, Del Medio, whatever you say.

The house is yours anyway.

As for food, why should you eat what I say?

So you'll have a wage. Work out how much you'll need.

Is that okay with you?

This is so sudden. I'm not sure I understand.

But I think it's okay. It's okay, Fernando.

But the house isn't mine.

- It belongs to the farm. - I didn't buy it.

Zacharias said it was yours, so it is.

He must've turned generous in his old age.

Lili's smile was my greatest achievement.

It was also my greatest prize.

On the farm, she was reborn.

Her world changed. She was young, beautiful, happy again.

I put aside the pain of failure, the sense of the absurd I felt inside

the moment I realized that being a teacher

was now part of my past, as in the tango.

I tried to persuade myself, and sometimes managed,

that my life had a reason if I lived it for her, for Lili.

I had to go on caring for her, so that she'd never be unhappy.

She had said, "You know, but forget that you know. "

That's the way to live with clarity.

But things get complicated when you can't forget.

The awakening of lucidity may never take place,

but if it does, there's no avoiding it.

And also it stays forever.

When you perceive the senselessness of life,

you also perceive that there are no goals or progress.

Though, unwilling to admit it,

we know that life is attached to death,

that life and death are not consecutive,

but simultaneous and inseparable.

If we can stay sane,

in the face of rules and routines we don't believe in,

it is because lucidity shows us that life is so banal,

that we cannot live it like a tragedy.

Do you like reading?

This one's interesting, and the pictures are lovely.

Her name's Alicia too.

- Keep it if you like. - Why have you got so many books?

I don't really know. Or why I brought them.

Where will you put them?

On the walls. I'll get some wood and bricks for shelves.

So many words for the same confusion.

Excuse me, Fernando, but you don't need to put up a number.

This isn't like the city.

It's a name.

It may be a number, but it's the name of the house.

And an important date for us.

I'll explain sometime.

I have to make another two.

And I'd like you to nail them to a post or a tree.

One at the entrance and the other at the turnoff.

Then our friends won't get lost when they come.

- He moves like Maradona. - He's lovely.

Change the menu.

- Shall I grill him? - Okay, but pluck him first.

- Kill him first. - Don't look at me.

It's easy. You just wring his neck.

You know how to do it.

Yes, but I've never done it. You do it.

I don't know how. You were born in the country.

Here, it's easier with a knife.

Then he won't suffer.

Outside. You'll splash everything.

He needs a name.

Diego.

I've decided that De Medio,

will be the official executioner on this farm.

Lucidity is both a gift and a punishment.

It's all in one word. Lucid comes from Lucifer,

the rebellious archangel, the Devil.

And Lucifer is also the morning star,

the first star, the brightest, the last to fade.

Lucid comes from Lucifer, Lucifer from Lux and Ferous,

meaning he who has light, who generates light,

who brings the light allowing inner vision. Good and Evil together.

Pain and pleasure.

Lucidity is pain, and the only pleasure we can know,

the only pleasure, remotely like joy,

is that of being aware of our own lucidity.

"The silence of understanding, the silence of merely being.

There, the years go by. There, beautiful animal joy went. "

Pizarnik. Brilliant.

Yes, he's here. Just a minute. I'll call him.

- Fer! It's Carlos. - Okay.

I'm not surprised. The banks lend money to people with money.

Give it a try, but they'll kill me with the interest.

All right, call me. Love to Natacha.

When are you coming?

Fine, take care.

When are they coming?

In a week, but with Carlos that could be a month.

Forget the perfume. The bank refused the loan for the machine.

I thought they would.

We'll have to find another way.

Goodbye, lavender, Lili.

How about a loan in Spain?

They could send a machine from there.

And the rates are lower.

- How do I get a loan in Spain? - Not you. Pedro.

If you ask him, he won't say no.

He can pay till you start production,

then you can start paying him back.

I don't like asking people favors. Including my son.

And after what you said to him, you can't ask him for a loan.

For that very reason.

Yes, you can.

He won't say no or hold it against you.

He'd appreciate you asking him a favor.

I don't know. I'll think about it.

Look, Fer.

I don't give a damn about machines, oil, perfume, whatever,

but I care about my son.

Just swallow your stupid pride and call him.

I want him to be happy.

If you ask him for a favor, he'll feel that you don't despise him,

that at last you'll accept his help and accept him.

Is it so much to ask for Pedro's sake?

Give me a drag. It's bad for you.

What time is it in Madrid?

A bit early, but so what?

Pedro? It's dad. This is dad. Is it early?

This is kind of urgent. No, everything's all right.

No, mom's fine. We're both fine, don't be silly.

I wanted to ask you a favor.

If you can help, fine. If not, fine too.

No, it's not that.

I'll send you a fax with the details later.

Anyway, I need to get a loan in Spain.

Yes.

If it's too far, I'll come back.

Walking is good but it's no big deal.

De Medio says you can see the mountains from up there.

Kilometers away.

- Won't you come? - Not today.

- I'm going to make tomato jam. - We'll start waddling soon.

Fat and happy. Are you up to it?

Look, I can hardly button my pants.

- Could you be happy some day? - Why not today?

Or am I being punished?

We can think what we want.

Sometimes we think what we don't want to. It's like a game.

An intellectual exercise, if you prefer.

We can think and we can live. That's fine.

But so much thinking can stop us from living.

You've been reading my notebook?

I don't need to.

I don't read anything you don't ask me to.

I know.

I do what I can, but it's hard.

I'm doing better. Don't worry, Lili.

We can also think and talk.

I could listen and pretend I understand. That might help.

What for? You already know everything.

That's all right. I like listening.

The lucid man can go on living

as long as he has a drive for life.

With age, that dark instinctive force can be lost.

Then it's necessary to call upon something like faith,

and to invent a reason, a goal to replace that lost animal impulse

with a cold, rational will.

But that will is hard to keep up.

Suddenly, for no reason, it burns out, it disappears.

It's then when you go on or quit. When you can or you cannot.

And if you can't, there's no guilt.

The love of others, our love for others, it doesn't matter.

If we don't go on, things go on without us.

Everything passes, absence passes.

We know death before we die.

It's an ancient routine, common end. A wished-for end awaited without fear,

for we have experienced it many times before.

Nothing matters.

Do you know what time it is?

- I fell asleep by a stream. - Where have you been?

Up there to see that damn mountain. And you can't see a thing.

Get inside. You're soaking wet. Have some brandy.

- Bad for my stomach. - No, it's not.

Can't you put some more honey in it?

If this ever gets off the ground, De Medio, I tell you what.

I'll subtract the costs, pay off the loan,

and reinvest a percentage to increase production.

The rest of the profits, we split 50-50.

Half for us, half for you.

Will that be my wages?

No, in addition to your wages.

Talk about that another time.

You caught cold, and you're not well.

This is so you know about 1 7 89.

That was the year the French had a revolution.

They wanted liberty, equality and fraternity.

Nothing changed much. But I'm going to implement it.

- Give me your coat. - Thanks.

- It's lovely. Better than the video. - It's not bad.

Where's Natacha?

- Everything went sour. - She found a man her own age.

Very funny. I left her.

I wanted to split up for a while,

but she got pissed off and left me.

Pity. You'll make up again.

You got on so well together. Splitting up was stupid.

She wants a child.

That's natural.

Yes, but what's not natural is that she wants one with me.

That's because she loves you.

I love her too. A lot.

But I prefer to lose her than leave her alone with a child.

- You know when you're going to die? - Don't start, Lili.

The guestroom's upstairs.

Incredible. Maybe I'll stay a couple of months instead of a week.

I'll find you a hotel. Then you can stay as long as you please.

Provincial hospitality, eh?

- What's this? - I've made fried tortas.

Fantastic!

Fuck light food, nouvelle cuisine and cholesterol.

You're really sick.

- I don't want to give it to you. - Genius fell asleep in the mountains.

One is your pension. It's a pittance.

The other's better.

It's the interest from the money for your apartment.

I mortgaged it. I didn't tell you so you wouldn't bust my balls.

That's usury! Are you kidding me? You've made me a usurer.

- No more power of attorney. - How about that!

Look, the notary lent your money to a construction company.

Not to an individual. I told them you wouldn't allow that.

So it's okay. You're robbing a thief.

It's not much, but I hope it goes far.

We'll make it last.

Buy some shelves for your books. They're still lying around.

They can stay in the boxes.

If we have to go back to Buenos Aires,

packing is the worst part of moving.

- You're mad to think of going back. - Don't look at me.

If the perfume doesn't work, do something else.

But don't you go back.

Things are worse and worse. You can't see poverty here.

You can see it less.

You could try something else.

Open a public library, give private lessons, talks,

meet your neighbors, see how they live,

if they have cooperatives... .

You want me to found an anarchists' colony?

Why don't you do it?

I can't. I like the filth, and earning good money.

Though I don't know why.

My ex-wife and daughters get most of it.

The bitches don't even visit me.

Stop eating. I'm going to make a fire.

With wood.

Beef or chicken?

If you want chicken... .

Free range chicken. Real free range chicken.

- The white one looks good. - That's Diego.

He'll be a rooster soon.

Will you call De Medio, Lili?

Fer!

- I'll be in the car. - Keep the jacket on.

You've got a fever.

- Carlos! - Coming!

Sure you won't come?

Men need to be alone occasionally.

Take care. A little wine, no whisky, and no loose women.

Nag, nag, nag.

Give me one.

- You're shitting me. - Just a drag.

I'm really happy to see you both.

You both look well, especially Lili.

She's radiant, fantastic.

You look like shit. It must be your age.

More than a bit.

- I feel like shit. - That makes two of us.

I don't know what to do about that girl.

I don't want to lose her. I never loved anyone so much.

I found her too late.

- It's never too late. - Oh, come on.

How long have I got left? 1 0 years?

I don't mean life, but useful life.

- Ten at most. - Less.

Maybe a year, or a day or a few minutes.

The same as a young man of 20 or 30.

You talk like an amoeba, Carlos, not a thinker.

- Shake your neurons. - I've got one left, just barely.

Don't be a coward. Don't lose her.

- What are you doing? - This way I won't cough inside.

Come along. I'll make some photocopies.

I'll give you a card to give to Suarez Vela.

He's got a lavender farm but he's bought a wine cellar in Mendoza.

Wine's a better business.

You'll have to haggle. He's tightfisted.

I should know. He's my ex.

- Why do they call you Tutti? - It's my name.

Some names aren't banned in Uruguay like they are here.

I have a friend who was named after a soccer club.

My name's Tutti, because my mother loved classical music.

And what she liked most of all, was the "tutti,"

when they all played at the same time.

I was born unexpectedly. My mother was on her own.

When they asked what my name was, she got nervous and said "Tutti."

- My dad got mad, but it was too late. - Very nice.

It suits you. Tutti.

Even when the essence is very good, you should mix it

with tiny amounts of other oils. That makes it stronger.

I have a book on industrial chemistry, explaining it all.

You can have it. On condition you return it.

- It's the Institute's. - Thanks.

I'll bring it back.

If I don't understand something, I'll ask. You seem to know a lot.

Yes, almost as much as you know about women.

In a single, discreet glance, you looked me up and down,

and I think you liked what you saw.

Am I right?

Either you're very wise, or my glance is not so discreet.

I didn't expect someone

who awoke such a sense of lechery within me.

You're the sort of prey any open-minded woman would like.

I'll do the photocopies while you two have a coffee.

I still enjoy several pleasures.

This moment should be no more

than a very pleasant exchange of erotic praise.

Mere flirting between two mature people.

Experience doesn't imply knowledge.

I know nothing about women.

An elegant lie. There are certain things a gentleman doesn't speak of.

Of the few women that I've known,

I've admired, observed and tried to decipher,

they've all remained a mystery. And they always surprised me.

Their presence is the important thing.

I didn't realize it right away, but... .

I learned to listen to them, to appreciate silences, looks,

those times when nothing seems to be happening to them.

I learned to respect their intuition, their intelligence.

And I learned to love them.

I might tell you that my defenses are in danger of crumbling.

You shouldn't say such things, just like that.

I'll wait in the car.

I've been faithful to the same woman for 40 years.

I don't gossip. So you don't need to lie to me.

I'm not lying. I never made myself be faithful to her.

It was never a rule.

Lili, my wife, and I always said

if anyone came between us, then that's just too bad.

But no lies.

We're together, because we want to be.

No one forces us to be loyal to each other.

None of the women I've met since Lili can match her.

I look at them. I may admire them.

I may meet someone like Tutti Tudela.

I'm open to anything, to any possibility.

But it ends there.

Lili wins.

Lili always wins.

I have the impression that when you speak of women,

you speak of only one.

Maybe.

It's my duty to warn you, my dear Tutti,

that my friend's line is a gigantic lie,

masterfully devised to seduce beautiful women like yourself.

I'd very much like to meet your wife.

I'd stop being discreet and tell her all you've told me.

Does she know all this?

No.

I've never told her. But Lili never misses a beat.

Tell her.

I don't know if I can.

Maybe I'll write it.

That'd be a good idea.

But do it soon.

She doesn't deserve to be kept waiting.

Leave that and come to bed.

- You feel hot. - I'll just finish this.

Is it so important?

Will you ever show me that?

Whenever you like. It's just notes, odd things.

It may not even be worthwhile.

Wait till I write it up.

Tea, aspirin, and off to bed.

He gave us a good price.

With De Medio and 1 0 men,

we could cut and load the plants in less than a week.

He could've given it to you.

In a year's time, he'll sell the wine cellar and make a fortune.

He'll never have to work again.

Like you, when your farm is like this one.

Mr. Coco Chanel. Just call me Coco.

Want a cigarette? Just a drag?

I think I've got pneumonia again.

Come on.

No. I know the symptoms.

I'm having trouble breathing.

It's not serious, but it's annoying.

They'll fill me with antibiotics, which will fuck up my stomach.

Stop, stop. Stop here.

Let's go into town.

Take me to the hospital.

They can give me something for it.

I don't want Lili to see me like this.

It will upset her.

- I'll call her. - No.

Wait till we get there.

- Where is he? How is he? - He's okay.

He's with the doctor now. He's under observation, but he's okay.

- Do they know about the bypasses? - Fer told them.

Everything's okay. Don't worry.

- This is his wife. - Nice to meet you.

- How is he? Can I see him? - We had to assist his breathing.

What's wrong exactly?

He's on a respirator, for oxygen.

His lungs were working at only 20%,

and his blood oxygenation was 50%, when 9 7 or 98 is normal.

In these cases, it's important how the heart responds.

Don't worry, but be patient.

He'll have to stay in, for at least eight days,

until the antibiotics have done their job.

Can I go in?

He's under sedation. Don't stay long.

Excuse me.

Excuse me, doctor.

Please tell me the truth.

Tell me if it's serious. They have a son in Madrid,

and I need to know if I should tell him to come or not.

Pneumonia always involves risks.

It depends on how the patient reacts.

Some say the will to live is important.

So seeing his son might help.

I don't subscribe to that theory.

If the antibiotics don't kill the bacteria,

the bacteria will kill him.

And microbes put up a fight. Otherwise, babies wouldn't die,

and all children would live to become adults.

That's not the way it works.

I've lost a few patients over the years.

I don't know. So you decide.

I hate leaving him alone.

There was no point just waiting in the corridor.

I'll get some sleep.

I'll wait a bit longer before I call Pedro.

Will you tell him to come?

I'll tell him what's happened to his dad.

Then he can decide.

I'd listen to the doctors. It's serious, but not so much.

Understand?

I try.

Shall I stay?

I'll talk to my partner and work something out.

It's not necessary. Go, don't worry.

I've got a case, and if I don't turn up,

my client could get years.

But I could come back this weekend.

It won't be necessary.

He'll be okay by then.

I'll come anyway. Bye.

Good night.

And thanks.

A) THE SKETCHY KILLER B) THAT WHICH WAS NOT

- Pedro? - Yes.

- Welcome. I'm De Medio, no "L." - Nice to meet you.

Your mother's waiting for you at the hospital.

Villa Dolores.

Don't worry, your father's better.

- Would you like a drink? - Not now, thanks.

How many hours was the journey?

1 4 plus 2 more by plane, plus the car. Is everything really okay?

Sure. He's coming out of it.

Lung trouble is a bastard, but your old man is strong as an ox.

Give him my best.

- Let me take your bag. - No, don't worry.

Thanks.

He is fine. He looked fine to me.

The nurse sent me out, but he wanted me to stay.

- He is sick of this place. - Yes, he wants to go home.

When will they discharge him?

They said eight days. Today's the sixth.

They're doing a C.A.T. tomorrow.

I'm glad he's seen you.

It will help him hold on.

Well, well, well!

Black coffee,

freshly baked bread, butter, mother's marmalade.

All I need is a beaten egg with sugar to go back to my childhood.

I may not come back.

With a splash of wine. If I had some port, I'd make it.

I'll shower and we can go.

I want to be there at 1 0, before the X-ray.

Little boys don't smoke.

Not before breakfast and, if possible, never.

- It's not easy to stop. - It's not easy, but possible.

Pedro, hurry up!

Hello?

Yes.

It's just as well. Just as well he went first.

If it had been me, he'd never have been able to bear it.

Too much pain, too much loneliness.

He doesn't like being alone.

That's what he hates most.

I can bear being on my own. He can't.

You won't be on your own.

I won't let you.

You've got me, your grandchildren.

You won't stay here. You're coming back with me.

- Is that your flight? - Yes.

- Couldn't Carlos come? - He couldn't get here in time.

He wanted to come, but I told him you were here.

I should have come over before he got ill.

We didn't have time to talk.

I really wanted to talk to him. To talk, not argue.

We argued a lot, but hardly talked.

I realize that now. Too late, as always.

When it's too late.

You can talk to me.

You don't think I let you down, that I'm a failure?

Yes, I do.

I agree with your father.

But you already talked to him about that. He said all there was to say.

You didn't like it, so you forgot it.

You're not a failure, but you're well on the way.

And it's not a question of doing, what your father and I want.

It's a question of what you, yourself, want.

Remember now?

What a spanking.

A timely spanking can work wonders.

Here are some jams, for the kids.

Thanks.

This is for you.

Dad wrote it for you, to read some day.

It's like talking to him.

I'll keep on and on until I persuade you.

There's no point you staying here on your own.

Morning.

Can we get the plants tomorrow?

I'll go with Alicia and the boys and tell the men.

I'll tell them 1 0 o'clock. All right with you?

1 0, 1 1... .

1 0 is best. There are a lot of plants.

Bye, madame.

Bye, Del Medio.

Liliana.