Original subtitles

THE SUMMER WE LIVED

GALICIA, AUGUST 1998

The story I'm going to tell you isn't the story of my life.

I wish it were.

This I'm going to tell is a love story that began in 1958...

and lasted for nearly forty years.

An eternal love story

that happened during the summer of 1958.

Hello.

Hello!

-Are you interested in teleprinters? -Sorry?

-Cigarette? -I don't smoke.

Good, me either. I haven't tried it in three years. My wife forbade me.

-And who are you? -Isabel Guirao.

-I'm here for the internship. -Oh, the internship. Yes, this way.

I was told it started today and that someone would pick me up at the station,

but no one showed up. I had to walk here.

You arrived at lunch time.

Besides, this isn't so big. You can't miss it.

So, why Cantaloa?

Last one to choose the internship. Need it to finish the degree.

Well, you're not Gloria Steinem and this isn't The New York Times.

ARCHIVE

-You want me to organize the archive. -You'll work here.

You'll take care of our main source of income.

Advertisements? Look, sir, maybe I wasn't clear enough.

At the end of the internship I have to prove I wrote reports,

chronicles, articles..., that I wrote stuff, understand?

And that's what you'll do, take care of the obituary section.

The obituaries?

The families take care of that.

In most cases, but sometimes they don't know what to say.

It's a great responsibility, a good opportunity;

if someone dies, anyway.

And who knows? You might even be lucky enough to write mine.

-You're Isabel, right? -Yes.

-Nice to meet you, I'm Laura. -A pleasure, Laura.

How's your first day?

I can't complain, no one died.

Yet.

This came in the mail. It's an obituary.

I haven't opened it, eh?

I'll take care of it when I'm done.

If you need help, let me know.

Don't overdo it.

The new interns are pranked into this every year.

"Dear Lucía,

nearly 40 years have gone by since our lives crossed paths

and you still keep showing up in my dreams

reminding me that another life is possible,

a happier one, with you."

"I'm still stuck in that summer of 1958,

the same one in which we met and I lost you.

How could I ever forget what was meant to last forever?"

"It won't be long before we meet". All those obituaries are the same.

What do you mean all?

He's been sending them for ten years. Always on September 15th.

-And always for some Lucía. -Ten years.

-And we don't know who it is? -No, no return address on the post.

It's interesting, he has never sent it so many weeks in advance.

It's August. Schedule it for next month and that's that.

Do you keep the others?

"Dear Lucía, it was the first time I set foot on sunny land.

All those people working in the fields. I could feel their heat.

I can still smell that smell.

I need to see that dust getting my shoes dirty.

I'm still stuck in that summer of 1958.

We were like a big family, the Vega-Ibáñez family.

And you appeared... united... dear Lucía.

Nearly forty years have gone by since our lives crossed paths

and you keep showing up in my dreams. Our picture said so many things,

reminding me that life is possible. To hear your laugh again,

one more time, joyful, with you, in the middle of the road.

How could I forget the summer we lived...

THE SUMMER WE LIVED

What happened?

You're bleeding... Your eyebrow's bleeding.

Here. Here.

-Thank you. -Are you ok?

-Yes. -Are you sure?

I think so.

You chopped off the vine.

It's completely chopped.

What were you thinking driving around here in that car?

Well, it's the only car I have.

My father will be upset.

I'm sorry.

I'm looking for the Ibañez family country house.

They told me to ask for someone called "Menato".

Meinato.

El Meinato Vineyard.

Do you know it then?

Yes.

-You want me to give you a lift. -Thank you.

Are you coming or what?

What are you doing around here?

I'm designing Hernán Ibáñez's new wine cellar.

Do you know him?

-You're an architect? -Yes.

-Is something wrong? -Not at all.

You'll have to get used to having dust on your shoes.

Thank you.

No, keep it. It's a gift.

Here he is.

Give me a hand.

Gonzalo, what are you doing here? I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow.

Right. I made the trip earlier.

I can come back later if this is a bad time.

Don't worry, they're just some English clients.

I'll send instructions right away for them to be served wine and ham.

What happened to you?

Nothing.

I didn't listen to you, I drove here. I think I destroyed my car.

-But you're ok? -Yes.

If it weren't for that girl, I'd still be stranded at the vineyard.

And I chopped off a vine. I think I've moved all the dirt.

What's wrong?

I'm happy to see you, Gonzalo.

Aren't you going to give me a hug?

No.

C'mon, come here.

Forget everything you thought you knew about wine.

This isn't like the north, Jerez is something else.

This type is called palomino,

it's the gold that sustains all of Jerez.

This grape only grows here. Do you know why?

Albariza. A land sponged by water and caressed by the wind.

Can you smell it?

No.

Close your eyes.

C'mon, close your eyes.

Let the nose get used to it.

That which you can't see or smell is the Atlantic's breeze.

You'll understand soon.

See that border?

It separates my family's land from my future wife's.

-We're going to merge the winery. -I see.

I'm getting married, Gonzalo.

I don't believe you.

-I'm finally going to settle down. -Why haven't you told me sooner?

The things that are only said once in a lifetime aren't sent in a letter,

they're said in person.

The new winery

it's the bonding of our families, the Vega-Ibáñez firm.

It would mean a lot to me if it was done by then.

Congratulations.

Lucía, come here a moment.

This is Lucía Vega, my fiancée.

Nice to meet you, Gonzalo.

So you knew, didn't you?

He wanted to surprise you and I couldn't tell.

Forgive me. Please, forgive me.

You're terrible.

The new wine cellar has to be ready for the harvest festival.

-When's that? -September 15th.

September 15th... But that's in six months!

Hernán, a wine cellar can't be built in six months.

Hernán, it can't be done!

This winery was founded over a 100 years ago by my grandfather:

Eduardo Ibáñez.

He was a country man.

His hands were torn from working and only owned a small piece of land.

He began by selling his wine in bulk.

And look, Gonzalo, look.

A dreamer.

On one of his trips he even went to a fair in Paris.

-And guess what he brought back? -What?

Look.

But this is...

a dome by Gustave Eiffel!

He fell in love with one of those boulevard kiosks

and didn't stop until it was built.

My grandfather was a personality.

Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not Gustave Eiffel.

We're from another generation, Gonzalo.

That was my grandfather's dream, I have a different one.

What is it?

I dream with a bottle of our fine wine on Easter Island.

I want to take Jerez out into the world. It's time, that's why I called you.

-This is the place. -Six months?

Six months. What do you think? Will we see the miracle?

I haven't travelled this far for nothing. I'll try, but I can't promise anything.

That's my boy!

C'mon, let's go.

-What are you doing? -Taking some notes.

Stop that. Aren't you hungry? Let's get some food.

-I'll finish this and return to the hotel. -No way.

-You're coming to my house. -I don't want to cause any trouble.

-Wait, I'm almost done. Please. -C'mon, let's go.

-Can I bring you anything? -No, no, not the first.

Give your father some cheese.

Adela, the table, Adela!

So, is everything ok?

Yes. You're very kind.

Rosario, bring more wine.

We heard about your accident.

Don't worry, everything's fine.

Well, that's it. You must rest.

Do you think it'll be ready for the wedding?

Of course it will. It will.

What do we want another wine cellar for?

It's all sorted out, Evaristo. Don't forget we'll be rich after this.

Yes, very rich... We've got one already, actually two, why another one?

Hernán knows his business, father.

All I know is that you don't need pockets for "the final trip".

-Oh, my husband! So full of joy! -Knock on wood.

God will keep you here for many years, even if you insist on the opposite.

We all want to see it. Now it's time to make a toast.

-C'mon, everybody. -May the wine flow.

-Do you all have a glass? -Thanks.

My friend Gonzalo played hard to get, but he's finally here. So...

a toast to Mr. Architect.

-Cheers. -Cheers.

Cheers.

Is it true you've been in all those countries?

-Yes. -And how are they?

Different.

Take me with you next time you go, ok?

-Adela! -What?

-You're too much, my God! -Mother, leave her alone.

Excuse her, she's been very outspoken since her father's not with us.

-Don't worry, it's ok. -You...

Gonzalo,

why don't you tell her about Rome?

Rome is the first city I visited after I finished college.

I wasn't playing hard to get, as Hernán said,

but back then I thought I should learn before I started to work.

It's the cradle of architecture.

The city's memory is intact.

Its buildings have survived for centuries, they share its History.

They outlasted time.

And is that what you want? To challenge the test of time?

That's a good way to put it.

When the wine cellar is finished, I'll take you to Rome, Adela.

You're not being serious.

-Where were you? -I had to take my uncle's bike.

C'mon, hop on.

-It doesn't work. -Just wait and see.

See, see how it works? See how it works?

Curro, careful, we're going to fall!

What do you think?

It's good, it's great.

Lucía, what do you think?

Do you like it?

I do, but I think it doesn't...

Say it.

Well, if we want to maximize the use of space,

we have to build a bigger wine cellar, Hernán.

We can't keep doing the same old thing.

What same old thing, love? There's nothing like it.

I know, but...

What I'm saying is that...

if we add an extra floor here,

we'll have a lot more room

and we'll be able to store...

brandy barrels. And in the leftover space

we can store more wine barrels.

And...

we can replace the gable roof with two concrete domes.

Something similar was done at the Algeciras Market.

This way we'll get greater thermal stability.

When do we start?

They say it's good luck to take a picture before you start.

-Who says that? -I do.

-Now? -Now.

Come here.

In that summer of 1958

everything must have been different of how it is now.

In the heat of a snooze disguised as mid-late afternoon love,

he discovered her through his lens,

immortalizing her forever.

That picture said so many things that silence was enough.

He knew then he'd live in those eyes the rest of his life.

That moment transformed that summer into his everlasting moment.

-Did you write this? -Do you like it?

-And what do you want to do now? -Publish it.

Didn't I tell you to let it be, to take care of the obituaries?

Aren't you interested, Mr. Mauricio?

Someone's been sending these obituaries to his death wife for ten years.

Don't you find that interesting? Don't you think there's a story there?

It isn't profitable. Besides, obituaries are normally signed by family members.

But these aren't, not even a name. Only these initials: G.M.

-Mr. Mauricio, with your permission, I can... -I need something else.

This is journalism, we aren't novelists.

The five Ws: who, when, what, where, why.

That's from Journalism 101.

And the permission? That's from Ethics 101.

Santa Coimbra.

What?

"Dear Lucía, every sunset brings me a passing memory of you,

a dream that vanishes each time the sun sets in the horizon

and the tides separate me from the land.

Wait for me when the tide is low.

There's only one house in this area

which can only be reached to when the tide is low."

-Visits aren't until tomorrow. -What?

-Aren't you the realtor? -No,

I work for El Faro de Cantaloa. I'm here about the obituaries.

No, we're not publishing any.

We'd rather handle my father's death discreetly.

He died?

I didn't know, I'm sorry.

Listen, I don't know who you are or if you knew my dad, but you're a week late.

No, I didn't know him,

but I know he'd been writing obituaries to his dead wife for years.

Every September 15th.

-Is this a joke? -No.

I think you should check your sources. My mom's name isn't Lucía.

Another fact. I talked to her on the phone half an hour ago and she's still alive.

Besides, that woman died in 1958?

How old do you think I am?

You found the wrong person.

Just one more question: what was your father's name?

-Why do you care? -I can look it up in the Registry.

Gonzalo Medina.

Gonzalo Medina. "G.M." That's how he signed, it's in every obituary.

DEAR LUCÍA

And listen to this:

"When the sun sets between the Atlantic and the Cantabric,

and the tide separates me from the land, wait for me on the stone porch".

It's about this house, it has to be your father.

Hello?

-Hello? Can you hear me? -Yes, sorry.

-Did he get the right address? -Almost there, but we missed the turnoff.

I don't know what you're talking about.

They're coming to assess the house, so if you don't mind...

I wrote an article about him, I'll give you a copy.

No.

The realtor is optimistic.

Yes, yes, I lowered it.

I'll be home as soon as possible.

Yes, me too.

I'll call you back in a bit, ok?

I love you.

Dear Lucía:

How could we forget that summer we had?

"There are unchosen moments that end up changing you.

It must have happened to him there,

seeing the joy on their faces.

You could touch their happiness,

slipping through their fingertips.

Anybody would have wanted to feel something like it."

You you were fully invested in getting another one of those. What was it?

-Daiquiri. -Fucking daiquiri.

-A drink that tastes like medicine. -No, it's delicious. You have to try it.

My grandfather owned the sugar factory until '98.

Then it got ugly and they had to come back.

Listen, Batista better be careful, or those bearded men will revolt.

C'mon, Juan, what's wrong? Are you a communist now?

I'd put those fuckers in front of the calf for a run. They'd shit their pants.

You can't keep the nation in submission, Miguel, instinct takes over in the end.

Times are changing, right? What do you think?

Don't get into trouble, Juan. What has to happen in Cuba will happen.

Our things first.

Juan Montes is in charge of tagging the new wine.

He's promised me a glowing signboard on Puerta del Sol.

Hernán, step by step.

Hernán is fixated on getting half of the world drunk.

Not half, the whole world.

-Stop it, come here. -What's wrong, woman? My God.

Gonzalo, what's up? You're very quiet today.

Is there anything you need? How's construction going?

-Go ahead. -Give me that, c'mon.

You better, because you've taken all the construction workers.

-All those bastards work for you. -Maybe it's because I'm paying them.

Don't be so cocky because I'm paying mine too, ok?

The herd doesn't maintain itself.

Yes or no?

C'mon, c'mon!

Lucía, Miguel brought it to me from one of his trips.

-And what about you? -What about me?

What's your plan for your wedding night? You want Hernán to be happy.

C'mon, help me.

So, no? You still haven't...?

Well, we've done our share of things.

And what's he like? My legs trembled every time Miguel came close to me.

We should wait, right? If we have to wait, we'll wait.

Tradition is one thing and desire another very different one, it goes beyond rules.

It's like a cliff, you feel vertigo. Then you look out, something draws you in

and, even if you don't want to, you have no choice but to free fall.

Listen to me, Lucía, this moment isn't coming back.

Make the most of it. They say they want you forever, but they forget you exist later.

He's handsome, right? The architect.

He's studied, travelled... The girl who gets him will be lucky.

He lives for his job.

They all have their vices, Lucía.

Your little sister-in-law, Adela, is really into him.

-I wish I was young again, right? -But you're young, Rocío, my God.

Well, us mothers aren't young anymore, only mothers.

What do you mean "mothers"?

Are you with child?

-My God, congratulations! -Thank you.

-How far along are you? -Very little.

I haven't seen him smoking since we were students.

I'm not used to it.

One gets used to the good things quickly. C'mon, I'll get you another one.

And me too, ok?

Don't you worry about anything, shorty.

A little bit here

and another little bit here.

C'mon. C'mon, just a little. C'mon, man.

-Careful, don't you fall off the horse. -No way!

You have to eat a lot to win me over, shorty.

I have a BH over there that's a wonder. Fuck, drink.

Does your brother let you drink?

Are you my mother?

-She has a strong character. -That must be very common around here.

You won't lack work here.

I feel very flattered, you're very kind.

Shouldn't you give that some thought?

First your wine cellar and later, we'll see.

-C'mon! Go, Miguel, go! -C'mon!

Miguel!

Congratulations.

We're on a winning streak.

-Can I help you? -No need.

I wish someone would carry me like that.

Someday, you're still very young.

Not so much,

but my brother treats me as if I were a little girl.

Because you're a little girl.

And you? How old are you?

I'm older.

And how did you do it? How did you leave home so soon?

I knew what I wanted to be.

I don't know what I want to be.

But I do know that I don't want to miss out on the world by staying here.

I've been many places and, believe me, this one has nothing to envy.

Can you imagine spending your whole life in the same place?

I'll leave any day now, you'll see.

With that boy?

With who?

That boy.

With Curro?

Yes. I don't know.

He's very nice with me, very kind, but I know my brother wouldn't consent.

I don't think your brother will deny you anything you ask of him, I know him.

Talk to him.

You think?

-What's up, lovebirds? -Nothing.

Shall we go?

No, I'll walk, I feel like taking a walk.

-Adela, go home, ok? -Ok.

-Shouldn't we take her? -No, it's ok. If she wants to walk...

Besides, this way we don't waste time.

-Go that way! -No way! No way!

No!

-Hey! -What's up?

Hey!

This man has helped us for years. One of the few that will hire us.

-It's better that you stealing from us. -What a jerk.

We're very hard working people,

that's the bad name we get from other places.

But we're absolutely loyal to the family.

Take care of him.

Once he's your friend, he won't forget about you.

Hey, Cortés, bring that Palo Cortado you have hiding somewhere.

Right away.

What about Lucía?

Do you know that I already knew her before I went to college?

She was a child when I left. When I saw her again,

I knew I would spend the rest of my life with her.

-And did she know? -She said yes.

And what about you? My sister has her eye on you.

-I'm marrying her tomorrow. -You have to go through me first.

Do you really want to write about my father?

Yes.

Ok then, you have my permission to publish it.

But first I would like to know who she is.

It could be Lucía.

You need your article, but I need to know who my father was.

Before he retired here, he lived many years abroad.

He might have published more obituaries.

A few days? But you just started.

I know, Mr. Mauricio, but it was you who told me about the little stories,

to open my eyes, the five W's. There's something here, I'm sure.

And I have his permission.

I hope you come back with a good feature at least.

Thank you, Mr. Mauricio. Oh, and one more thing.

Do we have a newspaper car?

Hey, I'll call you later.

Good bye.

What's this?

They used it to cover the Ciclist Tour.

...trash. There's always a day...

to start.

Beware of the crocodiles,

they come slowly and you never see them.

-They ate her up... -...smiled calmly...

Do you want to listen to something else? I have Pearl Jam.

I don't like it.

Read this.

"Dear Lucía,

I never thought these things could happen,

it wasn't in my plans.

And then I realized you can't choose."

The death of a flower as beautiful as a rose can never bring any good with it.

Mr. Hernán! Mr. Hernán!

Mr. Hernán! Mr. Hernán!

-Mr. Hernán! -What's wrong, Julio?

The roses, sir! The roses are withered!

When we got here this morning, they were withered.

Hernán, what's wrong?

-When did this start? -We saw it this morning.

Julio, we have to be on top of this. On top, Julio, do you understand?

Something from abroad must've come and contaminated the vineyard.

Send all the men there. And you must warn the wineries.

-What happened? -I want to know if it started already or not.

That's impossible. Phylloxera was eradicated ages ago.

It's not Phylloxera, shit! It's a fungus.

-Hernán, what's wrong? -Some hellish bugs.

Boy, go check the other vineyard!

These sons of bitches are going to ruin the next ten-year harvest!

Go, quickly!

C'mon, you all heard me!

That's great, what's going to happen now with all the wages that are due?

I'll have to respond accordingly, as it is custom.

Mother, talk with Industrial Jerez. They'll give us credit for now.

And when will that be? There's no time.

What about the bottler and all those labels?

The people at Plaza del Mamelón don't work for free.

If we talk to them, we might be able to recover something.

-And we must stop construction. -We're not stopping anything.

We're moving forward. The other winery hasn't seen anything.

-They haven't stirred up the soil. -Evaristo...

-This is how things are. -This again?

I talked to Juan Pedro.

There was a similar outbreak in Bordeaux, France, and they eradicated it.

-I'm going there this afternoon. -I'll go with you.

I need you here, at the winery and at the wine cellar's construction.

Lucía, let Hernán take care of it, this is a man's job, dear.

-Hernán, can we have a word? -This is not a good time.

Promise me you'll keep construction going. We're solving the credit problem.

Don't worry about it.

-Promise me you'll take care of her. -You're not going to war.

-Fucking promise me. -Go inside.

This is a land of wells.

If there was once water,

it'll come back.

-Romeo. -Yes?

-I'll be back in a moment. -Very well.

I'd never been in this part of the wine cellar.

It's very nice, there's lots of light.

We learned from my grandfather, he was a cooper.

I didn't know how to make wine, but I knew how to take care of it.

They're signed.

It's tradition.

We don't know what's inside, but we keep it for years.

Then we take it out of the barrels and put it into the "solera".

And we make people a little happier.

Why is it called "solera"?

Because it's on the floor.

I doubt you can drink time like this anywhere else.

Lucía, the builders, they don't want to work!

They left, all the builders have left.

The construction site's empty.

This one's for me.

What are you doing here?

I gave them the day off, no one works today.

-Are you drunk? -As a skunk.

Romeo.

Those vines are doomed, Gonzalo. If we don't get paid, we don't work.

-We will pay. -Really, missy?

C'mon!

I have eight mouths to feed.

Are you going to set a plate for them at your table?

-What do you need? -Are you going to pay me?

What the fuck do you want?

Well... I don't know,

something to restore our trust, don't you think?

Your trust.

You take it as guarantee and, if you're not paid, you can sell it.

And now back to work.

Yes.

And to the vineyards, darling,

don't go by yourself,

there are many aphids at any given time.

Jesús, my tap's on the lady!

-Good afternoon. -Do I know you?

Probably, yes, since I'm from there, from San Miguel, close to Cruz Vieja.

-My name is Curro. -And what do you want?

I thought you might need an extra hand, don't you?

And can you do anything else besides hang around the Ibanez house?

Well, my uncle says I'm not very smart, but I can assure you I learn fast.

Truth is I don't want to stay at the cooperage forever.

-I don't want to lose my fingers either. -Sorry, this isn't a good time.

Listen, I can do anything, ok? Whatever you need, please.

If Romeo said something, he's from Trebujena,

who don't get along with people from El Cuervo, like my dad, you know?

You better talk to Hernán Ibáñez.

Thank you very much.

-Hernán would've done the same. -But it was you who did it.

Where do those roads lead to?

Do you want to find out?

I come here when I want to relax.

This is my hiding place.

What are you going to do when you finish the wine cellar?

I don't know.

I asked for a scholarship at a studio in Barcelona. They haven't answered yet.

But that's very far away, isn't it?

That depends.

Far from here, yes, but very close to Rubió, Berenguer, Gaudí...

-Do you know what those masters did? -No.

-All the things I could learn there? -No.

At least you'll be close to the sea.

And if the scholarship doesn't go through, you can always come back south.

Can I?

Of course.

It's very easy.

Yes.

Look.

There.

It's a Moorish queen.

They say it comes here to die.

I like how you look at me.

How am I looking?

Like you're looking at me now.

The fair starts tomorrow.

I have a lot of work tomorrow.

I don't want to go by myself.

-See you tomorrow. -See you tomorrow.

-I haven't been here in years. -How many?

Since they sent me to study abroad.

It was the same year my parents got divorced.

Whose decision was it?

To study abroad or to get a divorce?

Who cares? I stopped being a issue for them.

Besides, architecture wasn't my thing.

I didn't need five years in Manchester to end up in my father-in-law's company.

-You're married? -No, almost. I'm engaged.

But, with all this regarding my father, we had to delay the wedding.

So your father never said anything?

He never talked to you about Lucía?

My father wasn't a talker. We weren't close. I don't know.

He was always in his own world, he never did anything with us.

I remember once,

they took me to the fair. I was very small.

My mom and dad still walked hand in hand. So, imagine...

When we returned from the fair, we walked by a clock shop...

and I stood there, with my nose stuck to the window display.

I was spellbound by the clocks.

I saw a watch. It had a silver sphere and you could see the inner mechanism.

I wanted that watch. My father shook his head and said:

"But you don't even know how to read the minute hand".

And it was true. I just liked to look at how the hands moved.

Years later, when we were at the airport and said good-bye,

-my father gave me that watch. -The same one?

Yes, the same one.

You had to wind it up to make it work.

"So you feel responsible for the time you spend."

That's what he said.

You're not wearing it now.

I lost it.

It was a pain in the ass to have to wind it up every day.

I don't need it, my phone tells me the time too.

-Excuse me, the newspaper archive? -Sixth floor.

Thank you!

-Have you found something? -Yes.

Look at this one.

He wrote all this while my mom and I were home.

Why?

To find out, we're going to have to find the rest of the obituaries.

"No one imagined then that Hernán's departure would take us where it did,

to travel that road that I have retraced so many times in my memory,

traveling against the will of time,

and to the days that'll no longer return."

I wish someone would write something like that to me one day.

My love, you look so beautiful!

Where were you, you weren't at the bullfight?

I'm going to dance.

C'mon, come.

-I don't think coming was a good idea. -What?

-I don't think coming was a good idea. -Why?

-Gonzalo, let's dance. -No.

Let's dance, Gonzalo.

Why did we come here? To see everyone dance but us?

-Have you seen Lucía? -No.

Don't touch me. Don't touch me, please.

Hey, you, let go of her!

Let go of me!

Leave him alone!

-What are you doing? -Miguel, go away! You're drunk!

What's going on?

You'd rather be with this piece of shit? Is that it?

Stop. Stop.

-Stop! -What's wrong?

Come.

Come!

What?

What?

What?

He beat my face in!

That's what I get for acting brave.

SAGUNTO PORT

It doesn't say anything else.

He slept with a woman that was engaged.

No,

he slept with the woman he loved.

Look at this.

It's the first time he published when he started to live here.

"Dear Lucía, I'm not used to these streets yet.

I'm returning from the place where Elvira's sad verses still echo...

reminding me that some pleasures last only an instant,

but will remain forever."

Yes, that's it.

Published between 1962 and 1967.

Could you tell me what's written on the obituary?

Are you sure?

Could you keep it for us...

Thanks.

What does the obituary say?

It says someone died that summer.

What a surprise!

No, it's not about Lucía.

It's about someone else.

But who?

Hey, hey, stop!

-What's going on? -Stop moving the shovel!

Don't you see?

I'm taking this one home.

Won't it die?

If it's never looked at the sky, it won't care.

Excuse me.

-Hi. -Hi.

Are you very busy?

I would like to show you something.

Ok, let's go.

-What's up? -Nothing.

Where are we going?

This is amazing.

I don't want to hurt anyone. Hernán is my friend.

Do you know the legend of the Taj Mahal?

No.

An emperor had it built in honor of his wife.

They say he went mad the first time he saw her.

After twenty years of marriage, she died during childbirth.

They say her last words were to ask her husband for four wishes.

Wish number one: that he'd be a good father.

Wish number two: that he would remarry.

Number three: that he built a tomb in her honor.

And number four:

that he would visit her at that grave every anniversary of her death.

And did he deliver?

Five centuries later his promise still stands.

Did he stop time?

He didn't stop time, only capture it.

Time is boundless, it never stops.

It'll outlast all of us.

Come.

Come.

Manuel!

Oh la la, la France, Manuel!

Lucía.

How are you, my love?

What happened to your face, Gonzalo?

-I missed you, baby. -You've only been away for a week.

It felt very long.

Come on, let's do the sulphating.

-Everything ok here? -Yes, fine.

That's great.

My boy!

Hernán...

It's wonderful!

-Do you like it? -If I like it?

-Try it on, baby. -No,

-I'll save it for a special occasion. -Special?

Yes.

But I just returned from France! Isn't that special?

Yes, but maybe for the wine cellar's inauguration.

Wow!

Did you hear, Gonzalo?

Hurry up now, I want to see my sister in the dress.

Am I lucky or what?

This woman wants to marry me!

To the future!

-Do you have a minute? -Of course.

It's about Curro.

-Curro from the Ojeda family? -Yes.

What did I tell you? Let it be.

Gonzalo wouldn't give him work.

Gonzalo did what he had to do. And that's good, he picks his men.

Sure. But he's got a drunk working as a foreman. That's better, isn't it?

I'm just asking you to give him a chance.

What if Gonzalo isn't as perfect as he seems?

-What then? -What do you mean?

Well, he can make mistakes too.

Hernán, couldn't you talk him into giving Curro a job?

-I'm not going to do that. -But, why?

-Did he ask you? -Yes.

-That slacker asked you to talk to me? -Hernán, he's not a slacker.

-He's a layabout. -He helps out at his family's cooperage.

-He does? -Yes.

We need more men like his father.

It's too bad he didn't get to know him, he would've learned a lot from him.

Besides, if his uncle's given him a job, that's it, right?

-He wants something else. -He won't set foot on this house, ok?

-Why can't I do anything on my own? -Don't yell at me.

I say this because I love you.

You deserve something better. Stay away from him.

Why don't you talk to Gonzalo?

That's what you want, isn't it?

That's why.

-Lucía. -No.

Gonzalo, please. Gonzalo, please!

They'll see us! Not here!

-Gonzalo, please. -What's wrong?

-Relax. -Not here, please.

-I don't understand. -Gonzalo, not here.

No.

Wait, wait.

Let's talk tonight. At the vineyard where we met the first time, at ten.

Hi.

The dress is lovely, you'll look great in it.

If you're still here for the inauguration, you might see it.

-Hernán, I didn't mean to... -Romeo, we know each other.

-Hunger isn't patient, is it? -Eight mouths.

-Eight mouths? I don't think so. -Seven.

You could've sold it but you didn't. And that saves you, Romero.

-And the chain? -C'mon now, go.

Lucía, where were you?

I had to freshen up, I got a heatstroke.

Are you ok?

I better go home.

Wait, baby. I'll give you a ride.

Good night.

Baby.

Did you think I forgot about you?

Open it.

It's a Rose de France.

The guy who sold it to me said it brings peace and stability.

It's an amethyst.

I counted the days to see you again.

What's the matter, Lucía?

I'm very tired.

It was an exhausting week of work.

But it was worth it.

You saved the winery.

Go rest, baby.

Let's leave. Right now.

Go back home.

Adela!

Adela, wait! Let me explain!

Adela, it's not what you think!

No!

Hernán!

Hernán!

Hernán!

I don't know what happened.

I couldn't sleep. I went...

to the vineyards, I heard someone scream.

I ran and when I found the pit...

I don't know what she was doing there.

No, no!

I'm so sorry.

I'll finish the wine cellar as soon as possible and I'll leave.

I don't want to be a bother for the family.

You're coming with me for a walk now, ok?

Alfonso, Alfonso... Wait...

Motherfucker!

No, no, no!

-Stay still, ok? -Yes, yes.

-Stay still! -Yes, yes.

Ok, ok, ok.

Here he is. Piece of shit, he pissed himself.

Listen, Mr. Hernán. I swear.

No, listen. No, no, no!

You can either tell me what happened or I swear

I'll throw your guts into a basket.

I swear, Mr. Hernán, I swear.

I haven't done anything. I don't know anything.

-I don't know anything about your sister. -Tell me.

Please.

You have to believe me, please.

Please. No, no, no!

Hernán! Hernán!

I swear on my mother I don't know anything, please.

Hernán!

-No, no, no! Please... -No!

Tell me now.

I swear, I swear to God.

Hernán!

-Go away, Gonzalo. -What are you doing?

Go away!

Leave!

What are you doing?

He's responsible for Adela's death.

Go away, Gonzalo, go away!

-Leave! -No!

-Leave! -No!

Go away, Gonzalo, go away!

Leave!

Please leave!

Get out of here, I'll kill him!

Go away, Gonzalo! He killed her!

He killed her!

No, no, no!

Please, Mr. Hernán, please, I haven't done anything, I swear,

I swear, I swear, please.

I loved her too. Please.

If I see you on this land again I'll kill you.

Tell anyone about this and I'll kill you.

Now get out of here.

No! Leave!

Your father planned several buildings here.

These in particular were designed as social housing.

It was a groundbreaking project, profiting from the benefits of concrete

and its possibilities.

With one special feature.

Imagine a tower in the middle.

How would it be different from a prison?

What do you mean?

These homes were created as a self-sufficient community

that could cover all basic needs.

Big houses, spacious living rooms, perfectly equipped rooms.

If you look closely, the lower premises

were intended for a laundry service and a grocery store.

A forklift service was even installed,

to avoid having to go outside.

Your father...

went through a stage where he was obsessed with being protected.

-They're enclosed balconies, not windows. -Exactly.

Closed, hermetic, consistent with his idea.

Sometimes it's hard to understand the motivations or maybe it's simply

a matter of practicality.

But in Gonzalo Medina's case I don't think so.

-Your father... -How do you know? That's very subjective.

I worked with Gonzalo.

What?

In Alicante.

During my first professional years we shared influences

and concerns.

There's very little information regarding his work.

They used to keep everything, I guess they could still be there.

Let's go.

ADELA VINEYARD

ADELA, SEPTEMBER 1958

That cough, son.

You have a bit of a cold, don't you?

It's more than a cold, Mercedes.

Why did you had to get sick now, dear?

Hey, that boy, the architect,

did he leave already?

Tomorrow.

It was a good idea to bring the wedding forward a few days, huh?

It was Hernán's idea, he didn't ask me.

Well, that's not important anymore. You have to respect him,

because you're going to be very happy together.

-Can I get you something else? -No.

Lucía, come.

Here.

What are you doing, father?

This is for you.

But it's your pendulum.

Yes, but now it's yours.

It never failed me.

I hope it never fails you either.

Let's go.

Let's go far away, you and me.

I'll find a car.

I love you.

You should leave. See you at the wine cellar in an hour.

Hernán, I'm so sorry things had to happen this way.

Life is surprising sometimes.

I know any explanation I might attempt will be useless.

I wish I could control my feelings,

I wish I could love someone that isn't Lucía, but I can't.

I don't think I'll ever be able to make up for this damage,

I understand if you refuse to forgive me.

I only hope someday you'll at least understand why.

I'm sorry.

As for Adela, I should've had the courage to tell you,

even if it hadn't changed anything.

God knows it was an accident.

The night she died, Lucía and I were together.

She surprised us, got frightened and ran off.

Curro had nothing to do with it.

It was an accident, a terrible accident.

You should know.

I want you to know.

I needed to tell you.

Romeo!

Romeo!

What's up, boss?

-I need your car. -What for?

I can't say. Take this.

No, no need, no need.

-Are you sure? -Yes.

-Thank you, Romeo. -Good luck to you both.

What did you do, Hernán?

What did you do?

Lucía's inside!

Lucía!

Lucía!

Lucía!

Lucía!

Lucía!

Lucía!

Lucía! Lucía!

Leave right now.

And Lucía, where is she?

Dead.

Leave.

Your name is cursed here.

They'll kill you if you return.

I promised Hernán I'd let you go in one piece,

you owe him your life, ok?

If it had been up to me...

I wouldn't have forgiven you.

Over my dead body.

He said something else too.

That the worse punishment is to live with this sorrow until you die.

That's all we have on Gonzalo Medina.

Why are you interested, if no one knows who he is?

I'm doing an item on his work.

IBAÑEZ VEGA WINERY

"Jerez de la Frontera."

There's where he began, his first great work was a winery.

Athough later is was burnt and only the designs are left.

Look.

The names of the dead in the '58 fire.

¿Gonzalo Medina?

What's my father's name doing there?

Excuse me. Excuse me.

If it's about the guided tours you can ask at reception.

No, we want to talk with the winery's owners.

The owner... The lady doesn't live here anymore.

She moved to the house she has in the vineyard years ago.

Hello?

Hello!

Hello!

Hello.

Have we met?

Are you Lucía Vega?

Who's asking?

My name is Isabel Guirao.

He's Carlos.

Carlos Medina.

Gonzalo Medina's son.

The son of Gonzalo Medina?

Lucía.

Dear Lucía.

40 years have gone by since our lives crossed paths...

We were like a big family

...and you still keep showing up in my dreams.

...and there you were...

I'm still stuck in that summer of 1958.

To hear your laugh again...

-My father didn't die in the fire. -What happened?

How were we to know what was going to happen?

How can you be so shameless? Where were you?

Where's father?

Lucía, you're not leaving with that miserable man.

Where's father?

You have a commitment with Hernán.

I don't have any commitment, the family has it.

Lucía, don't throw it all away at the last minute.

Where's father?

-Lucía. -Father!

Lucía, listen to me.

Father!

Father!

No, no, no!

No! No!

No, no, no!

Open up! Open up!

Open the door, please.

Open the door, please!

Open the door, please!

Please!

Open the door, please!

I'm doing it for your sake, Lucía.

Open the door...!

You'll thank me someday.

They told me Gonzalo had died in the wine cellar's fire

and I believe them.

They lied to me.

And what happened with Hernán?

We got married. He was a good husband.

He never mentioned Gonzalo, ever.

He rebuilt the wine cellar but things weren't the same ever again,

we didn't even have children.

I tried.

God knows I tried to be happy, but I never really got there.

If laughter broke out,

it was instantly fogged with a difficult memory.

Those days always came back to my mind.

Your father was the love of my life

even if I lived it with another person.

I have to go.

Now that we have all the information I want to focus on finishing the novel.

-I'm not selling the house. -And what about Madrid?

And you?

Do you know how the novel ends?

Answer it.

Don't make her wait.

Whenever you want to return you know where to find us.

Thanks for everything.

No, no. Don't thank me.

I want a signed copy.

You didn't answer my question.

Do you know how it ends?

Not yet.

Why?

Because the ending I want would never work.

Are you sure?

THE SUMMER WE LIVED

When the sun sets between the Atlantic and the Cantabric,

and the tide separates me from the land,

wait for me on the stone porch.

Time.

Time

rules no more

in you or in me.

Time

rules no more.

Bind me to your eyes,

let me look at you,

you appear from out of the blue.

Bind me to your life,

leave the dances behind.

Give me your word

before you leave.

Before you leave

close up my wound.

I have the promise

of we two.

I cannot see your look

of the land I left

and the sun,

but I can see you.

Bind me to your eyes,

let me look at you,

you appear from out of the blue.

Bind me to your life,

leave the dances behind.

Give me your word

before you leave.

Bind me to your life.

Give me your word.

Bind me to your eyes.

Translation: Elisabet Sánchez Blake Subtitles: LASERFILM