Original subtitles

NETFLIX PRESENTS

What colour is this folder?

Green. -Green.

If any student is late to class,

which tends to happen,

I'll ask you what colour it is

and you'll say it's red.

Alright?

Yes.

Hello.

You're late, but come in.

Good. Let's continue.

In philosophy, there are currents like positivism

that don't admit another reality that aren't the facts.

Philosophers like

Auguste Comte

believe

there are things that mustn't be disputed

and don't admit discrepancies,

like, for example,

the colour of this folder.

You, what colour is this folder?

Red.

And you?

Red.

What colour is it?

You, the girl with short hair.

Red.

You?

Red.

Red.

Red.

Red.

Red.

Red.

And you?

Red.

MERLÍ: DARE TO KNOW

THE SHOAL

Silence.

Come on. Can I continue?

It's clear that the folder is green.

You've directly witnessed

the weakness of human beings

when subjected to pressure,

including physical perception.

Well, I realised it was a game.

The question was strange since it's clearly green.

But since everyone said red, you said red.

According to Nietzsche, the world

can be divided into two types of people:

those who follow their own wishes

and those who follow the wishes of others.

The first type are strong,

they refuse to be ruled by anyone.

The second type are weak

and they only do

what others say and do.

Don't worry,

this is everyday life.

We're very submissive

and we end up accepting

the ideas of the majority.

In Germany, people were even able to believe

what Nazi propaganda repeated over and over.

Kant already said it with all his bitterness:

"Human beings

are the only animals who need an owner to live."

Wow, have you seen the virtual campus?

Culture class is in room 110 today.

That's a very small room.

Let's go or there won't be seats.

No, let's have breakfast, relax.

We'll get there.

I was keen to sit with classmates

who stab me in the back.

Are you upset?

Me? No way. The exercise was good.

Bolaño is the best teacher.

But explain it to me.

Did she tell you I'd be late to class?

No. She said if anyone was late,

she'd ask about the folder and we'd have to say red.

If you think about it, it's good. -Yes.

But it's a little cruel.

You don't have to pity me.

Well, I'm off to class

or there will be no seats.

Get seats for everyone.

There's class in room 110?

I don't know.

Oti!

You really like playing, huh?

Bolaño likes it more.

"Olam, shel shalom."

"Shalva legolam."

Now everyone repeat it with me.

"Olam…" -"Olam…"

"Shel shalom." -"Shel shalom."

"Shalva…" -"Shalva…"

"Legol…" -"Legol…"

"Am." -"Am."

One more time.

I can't believe you're so calm

after what Bolaño put you through.

Yeah, it was annoying. Do I look nervous?

No, but first she didn't correct your essay,

now this.

Does she have a problem with you? -No idea, geniuses are crazy.

You criticise her, but I played along.

That annoys me. You could've warned me she'd do that.

You act like my friend but then boom.

Don't get upset.

Let's get a drink tonight.

To disconnect.

Okay. Where?

At Minerva's flat.

I just talked to her.

She has a cool balcony.

I'll let you know. I'm waiting for my work schedule.

Come on, man!

What are you doing in a bullshit parking lot?

Be like Minerva, quit. -Shut up and walk.

Excuse me, Mrs. Bolaño.

What do you want now?

Give me a minute.

It's justified after the folder spectacle.

Excuse me?

I think you have it out for me.

I wasn't in class and you said:

"If he's late I'll punish him with the folder trick."

Punish? Punish!

You baffle me, Mr. Rubio.

Although you seem like a savvy person.

You seem blocked.

Well, you're doing great at unblocking me.

Don't you find it humiliating

to expose me with your game?

Listen, what the hell are you doing here?

What am I doing? About what?

It happens with some of my students.

I think they're intelligent,

but then the truth smacks me in the face.

Fucking perfect. Now you insult me.

Insult you?

Yes, you're calling me stupid, but I'm no idiot.

You wanted everyone to think you're the best.

That's perfect.

But keep humiliating people

and you'll be alone in your class.

I suppose you don't care.

You must be used to being alone.

Hello, Rai. -Hello.

What's up?

How are you doing, Schopenhauer?

We haven't got to him yet.

I also know a bit about philosophy.

I can see that.

Your mother is in the garden.

Distracted, reading…

Where the fuck is the Saint Peter of Verona?

Mom!

Mom! Is it true you're stealing my paintings?

Henry, leave that alone! -Stealing?

You are talking about stealing?

You stole it from your grandparents

when they were at the summer house.

Excuse me, I saved it. Yes.

Your husband would've sold it cheap.

Are you justifying

robbing your grandparents' house?

Henry, take it upstairs. -Don't touch it.

Let's calm down.

It so happens that an Italian expert

is going to Madrid's auction house.

Julia wants to certify

whether it's attributable to Claudio Coello.

Maybe you've heard of him.

Look, two things.

One: fuck Julia.

Don't talk like that. -Yes, fuck Julia.

Two: send the guy a photo and fuck off.

Fuck off?

This is the philosophy you learn in school?

Get a psychologist, Rai!

Can you shut up, please?

Victoria, this is attributed to Coello.

I already told you.

It looks like "Saint Domingue" in Budapest.

Maybe the Italian isn't necessary.

Rai, it's just a man with a spear in his head.

Take the dog out, Henry! -Shut up!

Now you're suddenly interested in art.

You don't even go to the auction house.

Victoria, the painting stays.

You're coming to the launch of the new exhibition.

That way, you can show some interest in your mom's job.

And I don't like you talking to her that way.

You're coming. Right, Rai?

I'll come.

See you tomorrow. -Goodbye.

No, Gloria.

I don't understand classical music and all those things.

You go. -Oh, please.

I'm tired of arguing.

I'll stay here.

It's okay.

Enjoy the concert.

Gloria, you look pretty.

Thank you, at least someone tells me.

Hey.

It's the first thing I said,

that you look pretty.

Your father doesn't want to go to a piano concert.

Dad.

Now you start.

I'm going to get angry.

Try to calm him down,

I can't and I'll be late.

I'm leaving too. You're on your own.

You'll make her go alone?

Listen,

I don't understand classical music.

I was a mechanic.

I know about football

but don't put me in a place like that,

high class and posh! -Here we go.

Where does it say a mechanic is less worthy than a pianist?

You just hate that she works and you don't.

Well, you're right.

Tell me what I contribute to the relationship.

You get a pension, right? You contribute money.

Yeah, sure.

But I'm here cleaning all day

so I don't end up like always,

in front of the TV being useless.

Get over your working class complex, Dad.

When you feel like it, you remind us we're all poor.

This again?

I have the right to complain about not having any money!

So do I, dammit. You've passed it on.

Every time I see a rich person, I'm annoyed.

I can't stand seeing their comfortable lives

and I love seeing them suffer.

Maybe that makes me a bad person,

but I'm happier.

Hey! Look who I found.

How are you?

Very well.

This is cool, huh? -Do you like it?

We decorated with Ettiene. Ettiene, this is Pol.

What's up? -What's up?

He's a great guy.

Fun, French, a pianist…

He has it all, right? -Yes, yes.

Good. Who's Rai talking to?

That's Amy. You have to meet her. She's a character.

Amy. Amy, this is Pol.

Hello. Hi.

Careful, she has a gun under her pillow.

Rai, you don't get what I said. -No, of course.

I said guns in the United States

are a right.

Sure, a tradition. Like Halloween, right?

Amy, they're the kings of the world and they kill each other.

There have been shootings in schools.

Now they say the answer is arming the teachers.

Pol, listen.

The question is:

why don't you have weapons?

Wow, of course. -Come on!

No, hang on.

That's not a bad question. Think a little.

Not bad? Come on, please.

Imagine living in the country with your kids.

How do you defend your family from thieves?

But thieves don't wait.

My dad has a hunting rifle…

Well, if someone comes to steal…

They wouldn't take anything from me.

Do they deserve for you to kill for them?

Guys, enough.

I've got the definitive argument.

What is it?

Do we have the butt we deserve? -I do, I do.

Touch it, touch it. -Okay.

Touch it, touch it. -I love it.

Do I have a good butt?

It's cute, right?

Well, yes.

Yes?

Hello, Laura, sweetie.

Mom,

I'm going into the theatre.

Oh, where's Dad?

He's on his way.

Well, later

you can tell me if it was good. I love theatre.

Well, we never go together.

I'll check what's on.

I'm at home.

I'm having the tortellini you like so much.

Save me some.

Done.

Well, sweetie, take care.

Tomorrow you can tell me about the play.

Okay, bye.

Goodbye.

Holy fucking hell.

They have a sense of rhythm.

You study music, right?

Yes.

Damn, Pol, are you already yawning?

You're better off not coming, stay at home.

I envy you, Pol. I can't yawn.

It's as if my body could stay awake all the time.

Is your butler waiting for you at the door?

I've come alone.

You? Did you take the underground?

Don't get bitter.

Be happy, pay for a chauffeur.

Right. You're one of those

who thinks that money is happiness, right?

I don't know.

What do you think?

I think

I'm the only philosophy student

who isn't worried if the degree gets me nowhere.

Son of a bitch. Don't ever speak to me again.

No, no. Minerva, let him talk.

Go on, continue.

Well, it's simple.

There are things in my life

that don't work out,

but I'm so relaxed.

Again! Fucker.

No, no. There's even more.

When we're 40 years old,

you'll look 50 years old

and I'll look 35.

Look, Rai. See those coloured light bulbs?

I'll strangle you with them so you get electrocuted.

Which lights?

The green ones or the red ones?

Can you help me, Pol? I wouldn't know…

Who were you a year ago?

Huh? Tell us.

Who were you with? Who could stand you?

Did you have posh friends?

Yes.

Yes, they expired.

Why are you here? Looking for poor friends?

Why stoop so low? You can't need us. That's impossible.

You could be at home, stress-free,

aging slowly, surrounded by family.

Hey, Pol! Don't tell me you're leaving!

Yes. -No, no. Stay.

Stay. I've stolen a beer from the American.

If we're lucky,

we won't get shot.

Long live Mississippi.

Today, in class,

when Bolaño did the folder exercise,

I wanted to hug you.

Look, like this.

Okay, okay.

Oti. Come on.

Okay, enough. Please.

We get along, but I don't want more with you.

I think that Amy's beer

went to my head.

It's okay.

You could go up and get some fresh air.

No, it's better if I head home.

Here.

The end of the love story.

Hey, the Frenchman.

Oti is tipsy, huh?

It's not strange that we flirt with you, you're hot.

Sorry, I don't understand French.

Oti wants to touch your body

as if it were a piano.

I understand her.

Catalans are very discreet.

Not in politics.

Arnau.

How was the party?

Good.

Oh, Oriol called.

Don't call him Oriol. He's my dad.

He asked if we're going on Sunday.

They're having a barbeque.

God, how annoying. No, I don't want to go.

My dad annoys me with his football monologues.

You've been drinking, huh?

A little.

I'd like to go to the village.

We'd see everyone.

God, how annoying. Then you go.

I'm staying here.

I've discovered…

that I'm a city person.

It's confirmed.

You're drunk.

Come on, let's go to sleep.

No, you sleep here.

I want to have space in my bed.

And to sleep like this, arms out,

and to move whenever I want to.

And leave me here alone?

Your grey hairs turn me on so much.

Oh, really?

Pol! -Jesus, Dad!

You scared me.

I couldn't sleep.

Gloria hasn't returned yet.

You should have gone with her.

Okay, I admit it, I was wrong.

I should have gone with her.

It's just that I…

Maybe I always complain about everything,

but I've never been

a lucky man.

What?

Look, Dad, are you in love with Gloria?

I already told you I was. -Does she feel the same?

Is that good luck or bad luck?

Sorry, you can't sit here.

It was for an 80-year-old lady who came here

and died, so we don't…

Pol.

Don't you want to know what I was doing a year ago?

A year ago,

I found out my dad tricked my grandad

to steal his company

and it really affected me,

because I realised I'm a lot like my dad.

And yes, I admit that sometimes

I can annoy people.

You mean really annoy them.

A lot.

One-nil.

One-nil, what?

I've told you something

that's personal and not pleasant for me.

What about you?

Do you have any weakness you'd like to tell me about?

According to Aristotle,

whoever had the best flutes were the best players.

It was a way of repaying them

for their musical virtuosity.

You could say the same for politics.

All the exemplary citizens

had access to the political jobs

with the most responsibility.

Plato and Aristotle were very clear:

politicians must be decent,

because someone indecent

destroys everything they govern.

What about you?

If you were politicians in the future,

would you be honest?

Yes, we're not thieves.

We all know we mustn't steal.

Jesus, what an exemplary class.

If my boss paid me extra under the table, I'd be happy.

What?

Look, Silvia, on the first day,

you said guest lecturers get paid

500 euros maximum, right?

You want to make my day.

No, okay, sorry.

Besides, university fees are scandalously high

and those asking for aid, a lot of us,

either pass everything or we're out.

In this economy,

who here would reject an envelope with money?

Come on, raise your hands.

I would.

Oh, please. I don't believe that.

We should obviously pay taxes

and I get it's desirable

for those to be people's morals,

but the issue is that people

avoid the system because it's punishing.

Can you explain a bit more?

Well…

I don't know. My father, years ago…

What? I'm being serious. Listen.

My dad worked as a mechanic in a factory.

And he got a bonus

for being on time and working well.

So, why doesn't the system

repay exemplary citizens?

Paying taxes is your obligation.

No, I agree, but I insist

that millions of people pay their taxes

all their lives

and what do they get in the end? A shitty pension.

So, Pol Rubio, you're anti-system.

Marquis of Casamiquela, I adore the system.

The problem is it doesn't love me.

Hang on, hang on. Pol.

The system must find and punish corrupt people.

If not, it all goes to shit.

Look, Biel, one thing.

Who likes a mom or dad that only punishes you?

We like to be loved too, right?

So why don't they reward our good actions?

I don't know, here's an idea.

Wouldn't the amount of fraud decrease

if we were rewarded for behaving well?

Wouldn't there be less corruption?

I don't know. I leave it in the air.

Honestly, if I spend my life

paying my taxes religiously,

I'd like to receive a letter from the government saying:

"Pol Rubio, we want to fuck you."

You just needed a flag while singing "La Marseillaise."

No, I sang it yesterday.

What?

Nothing. Don't exaggerate. I didn't say anything brilliant.

It's a good idea.

A system that rewards exemplary citizens.

Right, Oti? -Yes, yes.

Will they ask for my student ID? -Of course.

I'll go to the library to get the scholarship result.

Want me to come with? -No, no need.

See you tomorrow. It's just…

I'm going to an exhibition that Rai's mom organised.

That's great. -Thanks.

What's up?

Hungover?

Listen…

About yesterday, I was very wasted.

But I won't lie, I knew what I was doing.

It's okay, Oti.

You're sure? -Of course. I like you.

Plus, we all have our desires.

I want us to be friends. -Me too.

So?

Do we have the butt we deserve or not?

Hello. We're here for our IDs. -Hello.

We won't rent the flat.

It's very bright during the day but very noisy at night.

What were you expecting on Mandri Street?

Go to Ronda Mitre.

No, it's not funny, Ester.

I'm not dumb. -Susana, don't get upset.

So? What do you think?

Will you buy something?

I might get those twins at the door.

Oh, buy a painting.

Your walls are too boring.

Of course, buy paintings instead of stealing them.

Rai, don't start, please.

If you came for nonsense, you'd better leave.

Mom, I said I'd come, so here I am.

Not bad, huh?

Wow, Ester, what's this coat?

Like it? -Yes.

It's vintage. -Corduroy.

I'll introduce you. Minerva Picotti.

My mother,

my aunt Ester and her friends.

Hello. -Hello.

What were your names?

Rai, how awful… -Susana and Judith.

Hello. -How are you?

You're Italian?

Argentinian. -Oh.

How nice. -Chorizo and bread?

Ester, please!

Well, we'll be over here.

They aren't doing well in Argentina, right?

They go from barn to barn.

Shut up, she'll hear you.

You shut up.

I feel a bit out of place.

I don't belong either.

I came here for my mother.

I didn't see a good vibe between you.

My mother doesn't know me.

As a kid, she never gave me what I liked.

If I asked

for a toy car,

she'd ask someone to buy me a car with an engine.

One time, I wanted a building game

and I found a huge wooden house in the garden.

I just wanted to spend hours building my toy

like all the other rich boys, you know?

Sometimes, I miss reading a book.

In high school, I read "The Story of a Shipwrecked Sailor."

It's short, but it's good.

Today,

they explained the Weierstrass theorem.

Here?

According to the theorem,

if a function "F"

of "X"

is continuous

on an interval,

"A, B",

then "F"

is bounded

on that interval.

Bounded means its limited by two numbers:

above…

and below.

So, to be clear,

if they certify that it's an original, it's worth more.

So?

I don't want them to sell it. I want to keep it.

Okay.

No, no…

I'd better not. I won't sleep tonight.

No.

What's wrong? Why don't you sleep?

My mind is split in two. Between here and there.

Waiting for the scholarship…

Oh, the scholarship. You'll get it!

Surely!

Then you save up that money

for a ticket to Buenos Aires to see your family.

Who do you think you are, rich boy?

You bring me here, show me your luxurious life,

remind me I'm poor

and say my issues are solved by saving up, right?

No, Minerva, I didn't mean that.

It annoys me when you talk so frivolously.

You don't know what it's like living far away.

You either lack empathy or intelligence.

I think Pol Rubio is smarter than you.

Your problem is you didn't have Lego as a kid?

Go and buy a set.

I got offered a job at a high school.

Next term.

Oh.

What will you do?

I'd earn double.

Well done.

I'm not so sure about it.

The truth is I feel good here,

I feel motivated.

Especially now with freshmen smarter than last year.

You think so? -Yes!

They held a really cool debate in class.

They wouldn't stop intervening.

Mine are quiet,

listening to the lecturer's masterclass.

I'm not joking.

I have a feeling they like me.

That's why I'm hesitant.

Here I have students

that are especially interesting.

Autumn is cool, right?

It gets dark earlier.

Okay.

That's it?

Should we take a break?

I have a croissant.

Okay. If you give me half.

Never mind.

Yes, I'll give you a bite.

You're funny.

Why? I seem younger, right?

Are you in love or what?

Not at all!

You can't fall in love so quick.

I'm in love with Minerva.

But she prefers art over croissants.

Were you saying something?

This is where I hide from the dean.

However,

one shot and that's it.

This bottle has been here for months.

I only have one glass.

That's what happens when someone annoys everyone else:

you end up alone.

I didn't mean to offend you…

Don't worry, you didn't manage.

Let's be clear, Mr. Rubio.

Who cares if things are red or green?

I care. -Look.

You're that worried about being part of the shoal?

A school of fish.

They all move at the same time.

If a dolphin comes from the right,

you go to the left with the other mackerel.

It's okay. It's survival.

Right.

In the folder exercise,

your mind was useful for a philosophical purpose.

A type of offering to research.

Are you laughing at me?

I don't laugh at my best students.

Your essay about beauty, albeit with errors,

was good.

How good? -An eight.

A nine.

I meant what I said about reading.

I'll read. -Good.

The visit is over.

Okay, but next time you want to experiment

with a mind, don't use mine, please.

As you wish.

But after a while,

if I ignore you in class,

you'll beg me to use it.

You remind me of someone.

A teacher.

Is he good?

He was the best.

To the best teachers.

To the best teachers.

Hello. -Rai.

How are you? -Good, and you?

You were right.

I didn't like what Bolaño did the other day in class.

I felt humiliated.

I admit that…

I don't like losing.

What I hate most is for people to know I lost.

One-one, right?

Yes.