Original subtitles

AY, CARMELA!

THE ARAGONESE FRONT 1938

Friends!

Comrades!

Carmela and Paulino, Tip-top Variety...

here for the first time and also in the vanguard

of the victorious front,

have the great pleasure of presenting

this extravaganza

with that shining star of the Spanish music hall,

of worldwide acclaim,

the inimatable, the one and only,

the stunning and extraordinary...

Carmela!

-Maestro. -Beautiful!

l wouldn't exchange

the extravagance

and dash, orthe spell of a Sevillian night,

no, l wouldn't,

for the fine breeding

and dash

of my prancer from Jerez. Sitting

in his saddle, l'm a queen,

diamond spurs on my heels,

and on my head for a crown,

and on my head for a crown,

the cheery Cordovan hat.

My prancer

gallops and rides the wind when he crosses the pass

on his way to Jerez.

l love him

as l love the Gypsy

who torments me

with his charms.

My prancer

gallops and rides the wind when he crosses the pass

on his way to Jerez.

l love him

as l love the Gypsy

who torments me

with his charms.

My prancer

gallops and rides the wind when he crosses the pass

on his way to Jerez.

More, more, more!

Thank you, dear audience.

And now, with great pleasure,

l give you a poem

by that great poet, Machado...

Dedicated to General Lister,

head of the Ebro army.

Airplanes!

1, 2, 3, 4, 5...

Everything's okay, friends!

lt sounds like one of those German turkeys.

He should go bomb his fucking mother

and leave us alone.

Gustavete will accompany me.

''Your letter,

oh noble vigilant heart,

strong and indomitable Spaniard,

your letter,

heroic Lister, helps me bear

the burden of death.

Your letter brings to me

the din of war on Spanish soil.

Gunpowder and rosemary

have stirred my heart.

There, where the Ebro starts her journey,

on that cold peak where the Spanish cry is born,

from mountain to sea, l say to you:

if my pen had the worth of your captain's pistol,

contented l would die.''

The farts!

Come on, let's hear the farts!

Fine, l'll sound retreat and then l'm off.

Remember?

l hope it comes out.

Long live the Republic!

NO GOlNG BACK! FORWARD!

Long live the Republic!

lf the priests knew of the licking that they're due,

they'd shout...

liberty, liberty, liberty!

Long live the Riego anthem!

Long live the Republic!

lf the king only knew, then he would

shout, too...

liberty, liberty, liberty.

Liberty! Liberty! Liberty!

l want no objections, all right?

-You see that? -He's starving.

And l'm not?

Goddamn bloody fucking war...

There's eleven.

11 DlVlDED B Y 3 lS 2

Those two are yours.

THAT'S CHEATlNG!

Come on. You really enjoy tormenting him.

ls it my fault he can't divide?

-Know what l was thinking about? -No.

The meals in the seminary. What blow-outs!

You know priests.

First, rice with oil and garlic.

Then, fish with sauce.

On special days,

there were shell fish in the rice.

But real shell fish, and lots, too.

Shrimp, prawns, mussels...

Gustavete...

You like shell fish?

CRABS

Crabs, he says. Fuck me.

Come on, move! Everyone outside!

Outside!

We need the beds forthe wounded.

-Move your ass! -Come on!

Move, damnit!

Get out of there.

-Move it. -What's going on?

-Just get up. -Why?

Get up now!

Some tour.

-You can't eat or sleep... -Now what?

And that kid twitching around in the bed, damnit.

-Leave him alone. -Let's go to the lorry.

lt's all your fault.

Signing a contract to work at the front!

What contract?

lt was either that or fighting here.

l'd be six feet under.

Well, we've come and raised the troops' morale, right?

-Here. -l say...

We can go back to Valencia.

Because here we'll be bombed or starved or frozen.

Come on, let's go to Valencia.

Where do we get gas?

Who's there?

Who's there?

Wait for me, l'll go.

Christ!

Good evening.

Evening.

Have you my friends around here?

One is tall with a big nose, the other's a bit shorter.

No, l haven't.

Want to get in?

Get in, it's cold.

But if l don't see them...

You see better from here.

You've got a point.

Hey, do you like anis?

Well...

Make up your mind.

Get in, it's damp out here.

-Just for a minute. -Come on.

-lt's cold tonight. -lt is.

Try this.

lt'll warm you up.

Thanks.

Why were you out?

To find them.

We did the show tonight.

You're a dancer.

What a guy! How did you guess that?

They're as hard as iron!

-Fresh! -lt's to keep warm.

Come on...

-Let me warm my hands on yourtits. -Hands off!

Hey...

-Where are you from? -Murcia.

-Just a bit. -l said no, damnit!

Fuck it anyway!

You get in, drink the anis,

then nothing!

All right!

Get out!

Okay, take it easy.

Here.

Come here.

Happy now?

The other one, too.

You men are all the same.

You're so pretty.

You're prettier than the Fuensanta.

Give me a kiss. Just a kiss.

No, wait, wait...

-We'll lie down. -They're here.

-Who? -My friends.

Here, a kiss, so you can't say...

So long, Murcian! Thanks.

Valencia...

is the land of flowers, of light and of love!

Valencia...

your women all have the color of roses...

What's happening? Stop!

-Stop, for God's sake! Stop! -What? All right.

God, we were about to crash!

lf you're sleepy, say so. Why didn't you?

-l'm not sleepy. -God, this man!

lf l didn't love you...

-lt was nothing. l could see. -With your eyes closed?

We're going to sleep.

-Gustavete! -Open up.

They're sounding reveille.

-Look at him! -Come on, kid.

You've had enough sleep.

-lt's yourturn to drive. -He can't drive.

Come on.

l drive better asleep than he does awake.

Help me up.

One thing...

What?

You...

with the soldier,

in the lorry...

how far did you go?

You can be so silly. Getting jealous...

He'll fuck the differential!

Carmela...

Now that l'm awake,

shall we do a Uruguay?

No, l'm tired. Why not in Valencia tomorrow?

Chaparrita, the divine,

early in the morning

goes to pray in the holy temple.

She asks

and begs of God

to take herto His bosom when hertime to rest is due.

She showers me with kisses

and nibbles me with love and sometimes

makes me cry.

Ssometimes when she cries,

she pales and fades,

but soon paints herself again.

Why are you here?

Are you mute?

Where are you going?

Don't move!

To Valencia?

Where did you come from?

From Montejo?

On the ground!

Come on, quick!

Your papers!

To the lorry.

Let's get your papers.

Move, fucker!

-What's going on? -Overthere!

Come on, move it!

Hello, comrade.

Actors entertaining the heroic Republican army.

Search the lorry.

Salute like real Spaniards.

l think we've blown it.

Hail Franco!

Up with Spain!

Captain...

Valencia, eh?

And this?

The flag isn't ours, l swear.

lt was for a number.

Christ knows it wasn't funny...

Leave Christ out of it!

Yes, sir.

He's... out of it.

lt belonged to the Republicans...

the reds, excuse me. The flag, l mean.

We're artists. We've never mixed politics with our act.

Tell him you were a seminarist.

Yes, l came close to saying Mass.

Why didn't you?

Well, the farts...

What was that?

Excuse me, the starts.

l'm a bit nervous and at times...

This is not the red zone.

-Anything else, sir? -No.

Yes, sir.

lt's not the red zone.

We're not bloodthirsty like the communists.

There's justice in Franco's Spain.

Good Spaniards have nothing to fear.

So, we can leave then?

Hail Franco!

UP WlTH SPAlN

You learn quickly.

He can hear, but not speak?

Who, him? No, sir, not a word.

How's that?

We don't know. We found him on the road,

starving. No papers, nothing.

And, if you'll pardon me, stark naked.

We fed and clothed him and he stayed.

He remembers nothing.

He must be mute from fear.

From bombing...

By those bloody reds.

Well, then.

Thank you very much.

Enough bothering the lieutenant. Enjoy your meal.

Where are you going?

To get the lorry.

Right.

And then to Valencia.

-Yes... -No!

Who, us? We're not leaving Nationalist Spain.

This is home.

You can be sure of that.

Cardoso!

Cardoso!

Yes, sir!

Take this crew over to the school.

Why the school?

So you can learn some more.

What are they doing?

Paulino, l can't bear it! Ourthings!

-Will we get them back? -Of course.

Hurry up.

Good afternoon.

'Afternoon.

Excuse me... This is a jail, isn't it?

What do you think?

We haven't done anything.

You're not from here.

No, we're just passing through.

And that lot?

Prisoners of war.

lnternational Brigades.

Foreigners, from different countries.

What about you?

You been here long?

Since they took the town.

God knows where my sons are.

Don't worry, ma'am.

We who are innocent

need not fear.

Friends?

Ah, Poland!

Right.

You, Polish.

Poland very far, very far from here.

A bullet?

Poorthing. Does it hurt?

You understand him?

Of course. He says he's from here, Poland.

You, Polish...

Me, Spanish. From here...

From Spain. You say it.

Spain.

Very good! You see

how fast he is?

Yes, he's very clever.

Me,

Carmela.

More softly.

More sweetly.

Car-me-la.

That's it.

Ay, Carmela! Ay, Carmela!

Stand up everyone!

Come on!

Everybody get up!

You...

And you...

And you...

You, too...

And you...

Well, look here!

lt's the communist mayor.

l was very keen

to get a look at you.

l'm not a communist.

You don't say?

Come on, shitbag. Get moving.

You won't fuck with me anymore, bastard.

lf anyone wants to confess, he can.

l DON'T WANT TO DlE

-lt's all right. -No, it's not!

They're going to kill us. Kill us!

-Tie them up. -Come on, let's go.

Put them there.

Lights!

Ready!

Fire!

Let's see.

The artists, come out.

That's us.

Or shall we beat you out?

lt's us.

We're here.

Come on.

Let's go.

Listen, this is a mistake. We're not reds.

We're good Spaniards.

Take me to the lieutenant.

What's that idiot saying?

ltalians.

ltalians and Spanish, friends.

Very friends...

Mussolini, great man.

lt's no good, Paulino. lt's over.

l want to see a priest.

The lady wants to confess.

ME, TOO.

You understand? Con-fess.

No, l want us to get married.

-We are married! -Just a civil marriage.

l want a church wedding.

Please, before these bastards kill us.

Listen, where...

are we going?

Sorry, l don't speak Spanish.

TO TRlAL

Yes, we're going to be court-martialled.

ls that bad?

What, a court martial?

lt's the worst.

GO YA THEATRE

Come on...

-Lieutenant, the prisoners. -Here.

You and you.

Well, then.

''Taken prisoner when trying to infiltrate

behind our lines,

hoping to provoke disorder in our rearguard.''

We're not infiltrators.

lt's a mistake. We...

Silence!

''They possessed safe-conducts

from the military authorities in the red zone.

Also a note from a political

Commissar...

illegible...

and a Republican flag.''

You said this was part of your act, right?

Right, right.

Now come on.

Show me what you did with that damn flag.

Yes, sir.

Here...

Carmela...

-My wife... -At your service.

-l had the flag... -l'll explain.

lf she may...

she'll remove her coat.

Of course.

She draped the flag...

like it was a tunic.

-With one breast bare. -What?

So he'll think it was a joke.

With one breast showing.

To give the lads a hard-on, if you get my drift.

My compliments. Beautiful.

For God's sake.

Then...

Gustavete...

on all fours...

was the lion.

Do the lion forthe lieutenant.

lt was absurd,

crap,

the Commissar's idea.

But l...

l'm a tenor, a lyric tenor.

-A singer? -A singer.

Please, carry on.

Wonderful. My compliments.

Do you like poetry?

Yes.

''He was seen walking amongst rifles

down a street to the fields,

the morning stars still in the sky.

They killed Frederico as the moon hid.

The firing squad

dared not look up...''

Wrong side!

A poet, too.

Very interesting.

Can't you stop it flashing?

You control the light be moving the lamp, sir.

Very good.

lf l may...

Lieutenant Amelio di Ripamonte,

in civilian life, a theater director.

lf you give me

your word as artists

that your hands are unbloodied,

l may get you freed.

-Look! -Like the driven snow!

l shall explain.

Since l am a theater director,

l have been commissioned

to organize a concert for our soldiers.

May l count on your collaboration?

Lieutenant...

lt'd be an honor for ''Carmela and Paulino Tip-top Variety'',

to work for your...

l mean, our soldiers.

And with an eminent son of ltaly, the cradle of art.

Thank you.

You've got Michelangelo, Dante, Petrarch,

Puccini, Anchovy, Mussolini...

Yes, lieutenant, l am also very happy to...

-Well, that. -Thank you.

Very good.

But what about costumes and music?

Tell him the bastards stole our lorry...

What?

What Miss Carmela means is that

we are sadly lacking in wardrobe

and she is greatly distressed

at having to perform in such conditions.

Comrades, in the new Spain, as in Fascist ltaly...

no excuses.

Believe, obey, fight!

Believe, obey, fight!

LONG LlVE MULOSlNl

Long live the Duce!

What a place!

ls it good?

Exquisite! Fit for a king!

Don't exaggerate.

Because when mamma makes it...

What's that?

He says his mother

makes even better spaghetti.

Our mammas are wonderful.

You nevertold me you spoke ltalian.

The seminary again.

Spanish and ltalian are from ltaly,

the Romans. And l speak Latin.

Sorry, l don't understand Spanish.

lgnoramus.

''Wine that maketh glad the heart of men!''

He liked that.

Once you get a good meal inside you...

There's one thing.

lf the fascists always eat like this, we've lost the war.

Here.

May l?

Come in, come in.

lt's you. Great.

Look, l think you'll find some costumes here.

What's here is yours.

All that's here is yours.

Go on.

Come on, Gustavete.

Meanwhile, we'll talk about the show.

Now, my dear Paulino,

the scripts forthe new scenes.

This is an introduction.

And this is a beautiful and patriotic poem.

l want help with the flag number.

-There's a flag number? -Yes.

But it's nothing like the reds' number.

This is the idea. You have to fill it out,

develop it.

l'll expect you shortly in the theater.

-Believe, obey, and fight! -Very good.

Give me a good scene with the flag.

Don't worry, lieutenant.

''On the Hill of the Angels,

which the angels guard,

they have shot Jesus, and the stones are bleeding...''

-You see this? -What?

Listen.

We could ask the lieutenant and have

a church wedding.

lf we get out of this.

-You swear? -Yes, damnit!

Give me a kiss!

-The soldier. -Come on.

To work. l have to learn this.

-What about me? -Let's see.

Look. New words for ''My Prancer''.

What's that?

''But be not afraid, mother.

All Castile is up in arms.

Madrid is already in view.

Can't you hear? Franco is here. Up with Sain!''

lt needs polka dots.

Give me one of those.

-''Macedonia Gold''. -Not ''Mathedonia''.

-''Macedonia''. -''Macedonia''.

l never smoke these, but for once...

Since it's a war.

This is all there is. Well?

Whatever you want.

-This is no use for a flounce. -l don't know.

Let's look upstairs.

-Long live Spain! -Long live!

''Unconquered saviours of the fatherland:

today you, the brain,

the heart and the arm of the glorious uprising

which has returned to Spain her pride in her imperial destiny...''

Man, this is something!

Damn them anyway.

You like this material?

lt's for covering mattresses.

Tight, so it stays up.

What's up?

Take Big-Eyes away.

That's it.

Hey, kid!

You! Kid!

Let's get a drink.

What?

-A drink, see? -Where?

No fine sewing,

no hems, nothing.

The ruffles and that's it. Come on.

We don't have time for anything fancy.

The scissors are behind you.

What did l tell you?

Here, try it.

No, not like that.

Look, look.

Goddamn bloody...

Vinegar!

How long has it been here?

-It's not good? -No.

These people didn't

even get to dessert.

Terrific.

Quinine wine,

good even for invalids.

Great forthe digestion.

A Neapolitan song.

You like it?

Marsala's better.

Fuck, you're never happy.

Give me a Macedonia.

-Macedonia. -Macedonia.

Macedonia! When will you learn ltalian?

-Carmela! -What?

Carmelilla!

-What do you want? -Come.

Come here.

Carry on.

Look at that bed.

Are you crazy?

And the soldier?

To Uruguay, guay...

l won't go, go...

Because l can't swim.

Come here, my queen, l'm brimming over.

Devil of a man...

And in such a hurry.

-You'll never change. -No.

ldiot!

-l want to, too, believe me. -Yes?

Just the way l like it,

your ass is cold and yourtits

are hot...

Paulino...

-What is it, my dove? -Look.

lt's the mayor!

What are you doing?

You have to ask?

-Take it easy. Come here. -No, no...

Carmela, my life...

-Our love conquers all. -You want us to...

with them...

watching?

l understand you, of course.

l know you're sensitive.

But if we don't overcome these things...

-lt'll be the end of us. -But Paulino!

And just work it out.

How long has it been

since we've had a bed to ourselves?

That's true.

-But this is the mayor's bed! -Right.

Hush!

Take it easy.

Leave it to me.

We're alone in the world.

l love you so much...

You know what?

This new flag number is vulgar.

You should be ashamed of it.

-lt's the lieutenant's. -He should be ashamed.

-And l'll tell him that. -lt's our necks.

-You're a chicken. -What?

Me? l'll thump you!

You're an angel on stage and a devil in bed.

And a chicken otherwise.

You should have said

we wouldn't work without our lorry.

Keep moving.

l'll look ridiculous.

And it's my period.

lt's not your imagination?

My imagination?

No, my wisdom tooth tells me when.

Great!

Where will l get napkins?

Maybe the lieutenant can lend me some.

-Come on there! -Move!

-At last! All ready? -Lieutenant.

The costumes are ready and the new numbers are here.

-And the flag number? -Right here.

''Variet�s'' sounds more elegant.

You ask why we changed it?

''Variet�s'' is French.

ln the new Spain, we speak lmperial Spanish.

-Please. -Let's go.

SHOW TONlGHT FOR THE NATlONALlST ARMY

C ARMELA AND PAULlNO TlP-YOP VARlETY

Lieutenant,

let's talk about the damn flag number.

Excuse her, she's nervous.

Leave me alone!

Please continue.

l don't say it's not witty,

but l do think it's coarse and vulgar.

What's that in ltalian.

Yes. A real shit.

Your wife is clever. That was my idea.

To do something tasteless,

coarse, crude...

And why?

Because that number is dedicated

to the Brigade prisioners who have no culture.

Northern barbarians

who don't understand beauty and delicacy.

Please, madam.

Tell me what he said.

Delicious. You don't want any?

Don't you like rabbit?

lT'S C AT

You're kidding.

lt tastes like rabbit.

lt is rabbit.

Wild rabbit, too.

lt tastes of thyme and rosemary.

''Open up doctor.

l know you're in, l recognize your voice

from the radio.''

What's that?

-Some rabbit. -Where did you get it?

l have my contacts.

-lt's good. -You'll be sick.

After all we've eaten...

You must make provision.

''Afterthe feast comes the famine.''

''l recognize your voice from the radio.

l heard it...''

lt's so stupid!

Goddamn!

So it's cat? Rabbit, and full of shot!

Now l've fucked up a tooth.

''...feverish, very feverish.

Put in a thermometer...''

You want it?

Here, take it.

ln exchange, look for some wine.

A meal without wine is...

''No matter.

Put it into me,

and see how l'll make it work.''

lt's disgusting!

Without my things, wearing a curtain,

no rehearsals, my period's due,

and this script is shit.

Tell me,

when does it start?

l haven't a clue.

That lieutenant's a real liar.

Famous theater director...

A stagehand, l'm sure!

Paulino...

lf they do bring the Poles in,

this...

this is a bitch.

What do you say?

What can l say?

How can they bring them

if they're to be shot tomorrow?

Maybe it's like a favor forthem.

lt's no favor for me

to have to perform forthem

knowing they'll be shot.

Don't take it like that.

lt might help distract them.

Sure.

Condemned to death, they'll want a party.

Can you seen my bra?

No.

lt's such a pity.

To come so far, forthis.

We might be a success.

l mean the Poles.

lmagine his mother.

Whose mother?

The Pole's mother.

And obviously,

being a communist,

she can't even pray.

Poland's far away. She may not even know.

Brute!

Mothers always know things like that.

Maybe he's an orphan.

The poor man! An orphan as well!

A communist Polish orphan,

dying in a country whose name he can't even pronounce.

''lssapanias'',

he said. Remember?

Now my makeup will run.

l know, l know. You're right.

But don't get upset.

lt happens in wars.

''Don't get upset''?

-You've never been a mother. -Neither have you...

No! You never wanted to! Selfish!

But l tell you,

if they bring the Poles in,

you can do this flag scene with the lieutenant!

l mean it!

Fuck, am l hearing right?

Just wait and see.

Move over!

Curtain down!

lt's that nice? The three flags.

Germany, Spain, and ltaly.

The Christian west against communism,

Judaism, and Masonry!

-You like it? -You're a genius!

Modestly...

Take it up!

What's wrong?

-What's wrong? -Nothing.

Your face is white, very pale.

No, it's the makeup.

-Are you sure? -Yes.

Lieutenant...

What is it?

The colonel's here.

He's here?

The colonel is here, l must go.

l'm leaving everything in your hands.

Yes, sir!

Believe, obey, and fight!

Madam...

My Spain...

which gallops and rides the wind to build a monument

to its brave Caudillo!

-This is great! -Don't start, Carmela.

How can l sing this? Look, Paulino.

''Wind'' doesn't ryhme with ''Caudillo''.

And how can a prancer build a monument?

You and the rabbit will kill me.

l feel awful.

Even that ass...

Even that asshole, the lieutenant

noticed it. He said l was pale.

Pale?

Green is more like it!

Stuffing yourself with rabbit before a show!

-You can't trust rabbit. -lt's never made me sick.

And eating makes me feel secure.

l'll need that tonight.

lT WAS C AT

Little shit! He said it was cat and that made me sick!

Come here, l'll kill you!

Don't take it out on him.

And the wine?

Brandy. This will fix me up.

Excuse me, professors. Carry on.

''Poetry which pro...''

''Poetry which has been...'' ''Which has pro...''

''Which has been produced...''

''Poetry which has pro...'' ''Which has pro...''

''Which has been produced...''

What?

''...by the Uprising.''

Paulino...

They're here.

The audience?

The Poles!

They Poles are here!

Let's get to work.

Don't just stand there!

-And your beret? -They did it!

They brought them.

Come on. You have to give it your all.

My all? With those poor guys out there?

You can do what you want, l'm going home.

l won't do the flag scene.

Wait. How can you go home now?

You never cared about the Republican flag.

We can laugh at it or at the king's underpants.

We're artists. We do what they ask.

But you never like when they want the farts.

Because it's undignified for an artist.

And this?

What do you want? To get all of us shot?

To be a heroine?

Surviving two years of war is enough.

-lt's all your fault. -Mine?

You showed off to the lieutenant, that's why he picked us.

-And if l hadn't? -He would have let us go.

Let us go? Have you forgotten this is a war?

Rememberthe mayor and the school?

Go out on the road

and look in the ditches.

-Here. -No.

Fuck! l think it's Franco. Look.

Short, with a moustache.

For God's sake, Carmela.

Let's make a deal.

You do the show.

Tomorrow l'll borrow the wedding dress

and we'll get married.

Ladies and...

Excuse me.

Gentlemen, distinguished audience,

l have great pleasure in presenting

the unequalled, the inimitable,

that star of the music hall, Carmela!

She will perform that beautiful song,

''My Spain''. Maestro, when you're ready.

My Spain

gallops and rides the wind to build a monument

to its brave Caudillo.

My Spain

gallops and rides the wind to build a monument

to its brave Caudillo.

My Spain

is mad with joy because the day is drawing near

to raise our arm in salute.

-Long live Germany and Hitler! -Long live!

-Long live ltaly and the Duce! -Long live!

-Long live General Franco! -Long live!

-Long live Spain! -Long live!

''Uncon...''

''Unconquered saviors of the homeland,

today, you, the brain, heart, and arm

of the Glorious Uprising

have given back to Spain her imperial pride.

Yet another feat

of the many which mark

this redeeming crusade.

-Long live Jalifa! -Long live!

''On your invincible

march of the reconquest of Spain,

stained and crushed for years by anarchy,

communism, separatism,

masonry and impiety:

you have written in immortal blood

another glorious page in the golden book

of Spanish history.''

And so, we wish to offer you

this artistic and patriotic evening

in which the humble artists

Carmela...

and Paulino...

Tip-top Variety,

on behalf of the Spanish people and underthe guidance

of that artist and soldier of the Volunteer Corps,

l refer of course to Lt...

to Lt. Amelio Giovanni di Ripamonte!

Thank you...

''We now present for you, our audience,

as a symbol of the artistic fraternity

of our peoples, united against the Red hydra...''

Excuse me.

lt's Autumn, l'm shedding leaves.

What Paulino really means to say

is that Carmela and Paulino

and Gustavete as well... Say hello...

...are here to entertain you.

But the disappearance of out lorry...

We'll say ''disappearance''...

has left us a bit short

so we can't give much shine to this freedom binge.

Some people here

aren't free at all. Even if you are Polish,

a mother is a mother...

God bless mothers! l met you in the street.

This is Carmela,

a great artist

ready to lay her art at your feet.

So don't try to stomp all over it.

The art, l mean. Get off me!

l was joking.

l love an audience, whateverthey look like.

Now you lot, with all your swords and medals,

poker-faced and important,

for me it's as if you were my cousin whose

willie was always hanging out.

l shall continue.

''As a symbol of our peoples' artistic fraternity

against the Red hydra,

we present this spectacle entitled:

'Three peoples,

three cultures,

and one single victory'!''

Judas! Do you want to destroy me?

What the hell's going on?

-What? -Something unforeseen.

My wife had some brandy...

A drop, just a drop.

lt's her period.

What the hell is that? Lowerthe curtain!

The castle!

What's a ''period''?

The thing...

You know...

She suffers a lot.

But l promise that from here on,

everything will be fine.

Fine. But no more drink. Please, Carmela.

Not a drop.

Tune that guitar. Here, let me.

-Damnit! Tune it! -Let's go!

Raise the curtain!

Glancing at random through the epic poetry

inspired by the Glorious Uprising,

we came across ''The Ballad of Castile in Arms''

by Frederico de Urrutia.

l am greatly honored to recite it for you.

''On the Hill of the Angels

which angels guard,

they have shot Jesus!

The stones are bleeding.

But fear not, mother,

all Castile is in arms!

We can see Madrid in the distance.

Franco is here! Up with Spain!

The Red hydra is dying, trapped by bayonets,

its flesh is torn and its jaw shattered.

And the Cid, star of iron, rides through the heavens.

Far away

in the village,

beneath the gilded church,

next to camp fires,

thousands of mothers pray

for sons who marched away.''

Aren't there mothers in Poland?

''...the war is ours.

Before the wheat has grown,

l shall return on the old track,

and there will be celebrations.

The bells will ring out,

the girls will rejoice, and guitars will sound their joy.

There will be parades and drums and flutes,

and Falangist flags overthe church.

Madrid is at hand, all Castile is in arms!

The Cid, in a blue shirt, rides the heavens!''

-Bravo! Sublime! -Thank you.

The Saracen

garden!

That was beautiful. You made me cry.

You're on now.

Don't do anything crazy.

l'm all right now.

And don't forget, l'm a professional.

-How do l look? -Like a queen.

There is a sadness

deep within me.

When l am far away from you,

my heart is torn in two.

The sun can never

cheer me

far from that Spanish orchard. My love,

like a flower, will ever bloom.

l shall carry you within my soul,

cradle of glory, valor, and nobility.

Spain, l shall never see you more,

my heart sighs with grief.

lf the wind should carry to you

this lament of my bitter grief,

Spain, send it back to me with love,

Spain, the love of my heart.

There is a sadness

deep within me.

When l am far away from you,

my heart is torn in two.

The sun will never

shine on me,

never again will l see your soil,

far from you, of grief l shall die.

Spain of mine.

l can no longer look on you,

you are my guiding light,

l sigh for you,

you are all my joy.

Night and day,

you're ever in my mind.

lf only l could,

if only l could return!

What would l give to see myself, O land of mine,

in your blue sky!

ln my solitude

l sigh for you.

Spain, l die for you.

Spain, my sun and my star,

l carry you hidden

deep within me.

Would that l could cross the wide seas,

Spain, flower of my life!

Goose pimples.

My skin, l mean.

l get goose pimples

when l sing that song.

Don't you?

But l get emotional about everything.

Paulino says l'm just hysterical. What does he know?

He never gets excited.

Well, sometimes he does.

lf you knew...

Paulino! How about a trip to Uruguay?

To Uruguay? Why not?

Carmela could sing the whole night!

Yes, especially for those boys up there,

who don't understand a word.

-Art has no borders, Carmela. -And yet...

''Sighs for Spain'' moved them.

To Uruguay! One, two, three!

Devil of a man!

l do believe l know you.

-From where? -l saw you yesterday...

-On the tram. -Oh, indeed?

You surprise me.

l only travel in a hansom cab.

l'm the handsome

one.

-Do you travel much? -That depends.

-On what? -On the company.

Well, l would ask that you come with me.

Where to?

To...

Uruguay.

To Uruguay?

To Uruguay, guay,

l shan't go, go,

because l can't swim. To Uruguay, guay,

l shan't go, go,

because l can't swim.

Take me to Paris

if you don't mind.

To Uruguay, guay, l shan't go, go,

because l can't

swim!

Let's move on.

And now, ''Faceta Nera''.

Thank you.

Thank you, thank you.

And now, we leave the stage

to the ltalian choir directed by Lt. Ripamonte,

who will perform the famous song ''Faceta Nera''

in honor of their soldiers fallen in battle.

They're beyond hope.

A bunch of fairies.

You were wonderful, Carmela.

You really think so?

You liked it, too, Gustavete?

What about me?

l did it for those poor Poles.

-To remember us by. -Forget the Poles!

When you were talking, l almost shat myself!

Look at that.

Leave that alone, damnit!

We have to get dressed.

We're on after that damn lieutenant.

The flag number?

We've no choice, Carmela.

Keep your spirits up.

Long live the Duce!

Colonel, officers, soldiers, everyone...

l'm pleased to inform you

our next act, ''The Republic goes to the Doctor'',

is dedicated to the prisoners here.

l give you...

Carmela and Paulino, Tip-top Variety.

What a pity. l actually prefer men.

Enough, enough, enough!

l won't see more women today.

Success is killing me.

The surgery's full of women.

How cruel life can be!

lt's all because of my name.

lt attracts them like bees round a honey pot.

What am l called?

Angel Touchmeup.

Father, l hate you!

Why wasn't l called Fern�ndez like everyone else?

Someone at the door! lt'll be Ram�n!

Open up, doctor.

l'm not in!

You are. l know your voice

from the radio.

What a predicament. Well, whatever God wills.

Hello, Dr. Touchmeup.

''Dr. Touchmeup, always on the up-and-up''.

l'm called ''The Spanish Republic'',

and l'm very sick, very, very sick.

And what's wrong with you?

l'm feverish, very feverish.

Stick yourthermometer in.

l'm sorry, but my thermometer's broken.

That doesn't matter.

Stick it in me and l'll make it work.

And your husband can't put it in for you?

That Russian isn't my husband,

and he's had enough already.

Russian, like caviar.

lt's his fault l'm like this.

l must examine you. Strip.

l'm ashamed.

Sorry, you must take off your clothes.

l won't look.

Whatever you say.

Whore!

Bitch! Slut!

Get off!

-Whore! -Out of the Republic!

Bitch!

-Get off! -Get her off!

Whore! Bitch!

Slut!

What's with the projector?

Oh, how dreadful!

l don't like those colors at all.

Especially that purple.

lt's obvious you've been poisoned.

No, l was born like this.

-Explain yourself. -You see, doctor...

My being born was an accident,

a bit of a slip-up.

On April 14th...

An indiscretion. You know, in Springtime...

The mid-wife may have done something wrong.

Maybe she was just incompetent.

That could be.

l can see some blotches...

some red blotches.

Has the Bolshevik infected you?

You should ask him.

He put his thermometer in.

Did he put it in from the front

or from behind?

Stick it in your fucking mother!

Goddamn faggot!

We fight against the Moors...

This is intolerable!

Legionnaires and fascists. Oh, Carmela, oh, Carmela...

Whore!

Get out!

Whore! Bitch!

And you hit them! What did you expect

if you make fun of them?

You bastards!

Don't hit them!

Don't hit them!

-Have you no hearts? -Shut up!

Why not kill them decently?

Bastards!

Come on, Paulino.

We fight against the Moors.

We fight against the Moors,

the legionnaires and fascists.

Oh, Carmela, oh, Carmela.

Legionnaires and fascists.

Oh, Carmela, oh, Carmela.

On the Gandesa front,

on the Gandesa front,

we don't have ammunition, tanks, or cannons.

Oh, Carmela.