Original subtitles

[wind whistling]

[heavy breathing]

[breathing grows faster]

[sharp inhale]

[slow, steady breaths]

[panting]

[deep inhale]

[breathing slows]

[deliberate exhale]

[breathing grows faster]

[sharp inhale]

[slow exhale]

[wind rushing]

[breeze blowing gently]

[distant chimes jingling]

[man breathing heavily]

[children laughing and shouting outside]

[monitors beeping steadily]

[newborn fussing weakly]

-He doesn't want to come out. -What?

He wants to stay inside.

Why?

He says the world's too fucked up.

Do you have any allergies?

-No, but… -Please, don't move.

-Okay. -[nurse] Open your legs, please.

[exhales]

Just breathe.

-[nurse] Relax. -Yes.

[grunting]

[nurse] You can do it, little guy.

[moans, gasps]

-That's it. It's over. -[panting]

-You did well. -[nurse] Great job.

[doctor] That's it.

[sighs]

[softly] Well done.

[exhales deeply]

[breathing heavily]

[man grunts]

-What happened? -[mother] He decided to stay inside.

-Who? -Mateo. He doesn't want to come out.

-[loud clang] -[man gasps]

I saw some scissors back there.

[grunts]

[sighs]

Now what?

I don't know.

How's he going to feed himself?

[mother] He'll eat me, I guess.

[jaunty mid-tempo polka tune playing]

[mother] And you.

[jaunty music building]

BARDO, FALSE CHRONICLE OF A HANDFUL OF TRUTHS

[chime dings]

[announcer on PA, in English] Welcome aboard the Metro Expo Line.

This train's final destination is

Downtown Santa Monica station.

[chime dings]

[announcer on PA] The next stop is Expo Park/USC station.

[teen boy, in Spanish] Is that normal?

[in teen boy's voice] That sound. Is it normal?

[inhales sharply]

[chuckles softly]

[plane engine roars overhead]

[chime dings]

[announcer on PA] Thanks for going Metro.

Your safety is our top priority.

Help us help you by keeping your valuables and money out of sight.

Report any activity by calling Metro's law enforcement

and security hotline at 888-950-SAFE.

[man breathing shakily]

[announcer on PA] If you see something, say something.

The next stop is

La Cienega/Jefferson station.

[alarm clock beeping]

[reporter on TV] What most believed to be a rumor now appears to be reality.

After weeks of increasing tension between the two countries, Carlos Soler…

[man, in Spanish] Shit.

[reporter, in English] …United Mexican States,

visited the White House today to meet with Halbrook's secretary of state.

Not many details are known, but our sources assure us

that the US government may have approved Amazon's plan

of buying the Mexican state of Baja California.

That's right, you heard it.

Amazon, the American multinational,

is interested in buying the Mexican state of Baja California

and has the full support of the US government.

This is all Presidents Halbrook and Soler had to say at today's press conference.

[crowd applauds on TV]

[Halbrook] Borderlines are human-made.

These must be subordinated to human needs.

By moving down the border, a third-world territory

could maybe even become a first-world promised land.

Mexican President Soler and I want this historic transaction

to be an homage for both of our countries.

[Soler, in Spanish] We must celebrate this economic integration

of imperial dimensions.

Negotiation, not invasion.

It is the Mexican people this sale will benefit…

[drum and bugle ensemble playing]

[bugles and snare drums warming up]

[dog whining]

[bugle 1 playing drawn-out call]

[bugle 1 plays wild trill]

-[bugle 2 plays fast-paced call] -[dogs barking]

[loud wolf whistle]

[playing steady marching cadence]

[dog continues barking]

[drum major calls band to attention]

-[band shouts response] -[marching cadence continues playing]

[man, in English] He's been waiting.

[loud blast outside]

Ambassador Jones.

[Jones] Oh, Mr. Gama.

Have they moved you into the castle?

[laughing] No, there's just some event here this evening,

and the Mexican government's asked me to say a few words.

But they're rehearsing this afternoon.

I'm sorry to make you come out this far.

No, no. It's fine. It's fine.

For a minute, I thought President Halbrook had appointed you emperor of Mexico.

[chuckles] Not yet.

[loud blast outside]

What's going on out there?

Well, as you are well aware, we are having

a celebration for the 175th anniversary of the end of the Mexican-American War.

"Celebration"?

Well, a… a tribute.

Yeah, to be fair, it was not a war. It was an invasion.

[Jones] Young men on both sides pointed guns at one another.

So many lives lost.

Yeah, you lost a few thousand.

We lost way more than that and half of our country.

Well, to be fair, you didn't lose.

Well, that's true because you just took it. [laughs]

-We paid for it. -Yeah.

Yeah, 15 million pesos.

Well, let's not talk about the past. Would you like some tea?

No, thank you.

I've been trying to get an interview with President Halbrook for months.

I went as far as promising his chief of staff

to landscape the White House lawn for free.

[laughs] Oh, you!

I think I might be able to finally help you.

Really?

What would you say to an exclusive interview,

you and the president, one hour, in the Oval Office?

-Are you being serious, now? -I am.

Though we'd need you to do something.

Oh, I figured as much, yeah.

The president knows you are an important voice in Latin America.

We've been working for months on this new deal.

-That's why I want to talk to him. -Listen.

It is essential that this administration build a bridge

with the Latin community and with Mexico in particular.

And with you winning this Alethea Award,

you'll move front and center in the world of serious journalism.

You know I'm not going to agree to change my speech.

-I thought you hadn't written it. -I haven't.

So, you won't have to change it, then.

[laughs]

And maybe with this exclusive interview in mind, you find a new thread.

Steven!

Anyway, think about it.

Do you mind?

-[Gama grunts] -[Jones] Here we go.

[bugle playing "Marcha Dragona" outside]

[camera shutter clicks]

Let me walk you out.

So, how's your family?

[Gama] Oh, fine. Fine, thank you. Everybody's fine.

[Jones] Now, you're gonna have to show me around here.

[bugles continue playing outside]

[Gama] I used to come here when I was a kid.

[Jones] Did you study here?

[Gama] No, they brought us here to learn about the Niños Héroes.

You know what that is?

Oh, yeah.

-[chuckles] No. No, I don't. -[jaunty polka tune playing]

Toward the end of the Mexican-American War,

a group of students, cadets,

were surrounded by American soldiers, right here in this castle.

The reality is they were simply slaughtered.

But with time, a myth was formed around that event.

[Jones, chuckling] What myth?

[soldiers clamoring]

[soldier 1 yells]

[soldier 2 shouts in Spanish]

[soldier 3 yells]

[soldier 4, in English] Go, go!

[soldier 5] Move, move!

[soldiers clamoring]

[soldier 6 exhales]

[soldier 7] Go, go, go, go!

[jaunty tune fades]

[quietly] They were kids.

Yeah.

That's why we call them the Boy Heroes.

[dramatic military drum roll]

[soldier 8, in Spanish] Exalted compatriots!

Before it falls in the hands of the enemy,

I take with me the flag of the fatherland!

May the myth rise over Mexico

and give shelter to us forevermore!

¡Viva México, cabrones!

[screaming]

-[rope strains] -[screaming stops]

[in English] Oh, fuck.

[band playing upbeat military march]

Have you written your speech yet?

[laughs]

Oh, only Mexicans can turn disgraceful defeat into mythic victory.

[march ends]

[Gama whistling upbeat military march]

[driver, in Spanish] Señor Silverio?

-Got a headache? -[takes a deep breath] A little.

The altitude and the pollution always kill me

my first few days back in Mexico.

The same happens to my dad when he comes back to the capital.

He says Mexico's not a country but a state of mind.

[both laugh]

That's a good one. How is your dad?

Good. Stuck in Oaxaca. His emphysema's killing him.

That's too bad. Say hi to him for me.

Sure. You want me to stop at a pharmacy?

Nah. Thanks, Antonio.

So I heard on the radio you're going to be on Luis Valdivia's TV show.

Yeah. I didn't want to, but you know how Lucía is.

She forced me to take the invite.

But… didn't you see what he said about your last documentary?

Luis? No. What'd he say?

Nothing good, sir.

He said you were worse than Malinche.

That you disrespected journalism and who knows what else.

[Silverio sighs]

It's docufiction, Antonio.

If you don't know how to play around, you don't deserve to be taken seriously.

Truth is, I didn't watch your documentary, sir.

But I did see that guy on TV, and he pissed me off.

[assistant] Luis is wrapping up a meeting,

but he told me he'll find you in makeup, okay?

[man] Congratulations, maestro.

Welcome back.

[Silverio] Thanks!

Hey, when's the last time you were on here?

[Silverio] Oof.

More than 30 years ago, I guess.

Thirty? That's my age. [chuckles]

Welcome again. Go ahead.

[band playing upbeat ranchera theme]

Welcome.

Hey, can you open up?

[excited chatter]

-[scattered applause] -We're back on Bocaguanga.

We've got a breaking story you won't believe.

No one lifted a finger to help him.

At the train's last stop, he was the last passenger.

Fucking gringos.

A cleaning lady found him.

A compatriot of ours, Ms. Refugio Domínguez.

Hello, Refugio.

-Hi. -[presenter 1] We caught up with her.

We'll have the pleasure of speaking with her.

[presenter 2] Thanks for joining us. Tell us what happened.

I went in to clean the train car, as usual, and saw it wasn't empty.

I thought at first the guy might be a drunk because that's common here.

But then I saw the fish on the floor.

They were all dead…

[choreographer] Come on! Yeah! Go on! Attention!

[Esquivel's "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" playing]

Don't go! I…

-[choreographer] …seven, eight… -[assistant] You can't go there!

[horn section blares]

[assistant] Wait! Wait! Wait!

Silverio, I… Sorry. I'm sorry!

Silverio, wait. Wait.

-[singers vocalizing] -[choreographer shouting instructions]

Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!

[snapping fingers] You're out of sync!

-Tania, I said to the right! -Fuck you! What do you know?

Tania, it's always the same shit with you!

Everyone, take your positions. Priscilla, on your mark.

[snapping fingers] Five, six, seven, eight.

-[sultry cha-cha-chá music resumes] -[assistant] This way.

We are here. I'm going to leave you here.

-Thanks. -No problem.

Do my eyes deceive me?

Hello, Marta.

-Silverio Gama. -[Silverio chuckles]

I thought you stepped on a landmine in Afghanistan and got blown to bits.

I'm still here. In one piece. For now.

-[laughs] How long has it been? -Ages.

Centuries.

-Sorry, I was really… -Busy. I know.

But you could have found a minute between documentaries to visit me.

Come on, sit down. [chuckles]

-Is this what you're wearing? -Should I take it off?

Yeah, right?

[Marta] Luis tried very hard to be happy for you.

He sent me six bottles of prosecco.

[laughs] That's his way of congratulating you without saying it.

He never got over you abandoning him.

I didn't abandon him.

I left for a year, and it turned into 20. [chuckles]

I ran away from the censors, and now look where we are.

[Marta] Hmm.

I worked hard to make a name for myself as an independent journalist,

then as a filmmaker.

My mother still thinks it was the worst decision of my life.

[both laugh]

Luis could have gone too.

No one put a gun to his head.

Well, one time he criticized the ineptitude of Mexico's president

and his apostles, and…

The head of the station comes through swinging his dick,

calls him while he's on air,

and nearly strings him up by his balls on stage. [chuckles, sighs]

It's a miracle he's still got his show.

There are no heroes on this channel.

We all eat the same shit.

We're terrified of losing what little we've got.

[choreographer shouting on set]

[Silverio] Tania?

What?

Tania Kristel?

What are you looking at?

Sorry.

Do I know you?

[Silverio] No, but I know you. I used to watch you on TV all the time.

[sighs]

[chuckles softly]

What are you thinking?

[exhales]

-[band continues playing] -[choreographer shouting instructions]

-[Luis] Don Silverio Gama! -[Marta laughs]

-Luis, my man. -Where have you been, cabrón?

Hey.

[in English] Welcome back.

[in Spanish] Give me a hug, cabrón. Leave him alone, Marta.

I will when I'm done.

There's no fixing that face.

[Silverio and Luis laugh]

Give me five.

-Don't move. -[Silverio] What are you doing?

-Epic. My Twitter's going to blow up. -[Silverio] Enough!

Don't be an asshole, cabrón.

Look at him.

He's still mad I left him in the lurch, right?

Furious!

I've got the top-rated talk show in Mexico, Papá.

Yeah, you only interview YouTubers. Nice stuff.

[Marta and Luis laugh]

That's news too, isn't it? [chuckles awkwardly]

Ready.

[Luis] Give me a hug, bro.

[Silverio sighs]

-I missed you. Here is where we started. -That's right.

-How many days are you staying? Huh? -Not many.

[Luis] Did you already prepare your speech for the ceremony?

[Silverio] No.

[Luis] Oof. I figured.

[sighs]

Hey, I loved your last documentary, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths.

-Crazy stuff. -You liked it?

Tons. [laughs]

But the part where you share a smoke with Hernán Cortés was a bit much.

How are you supposed to know what Cortés or Juan Escutia was thinking?

Did you run out of living people to interview, or what?

-You already working on the next one? -Yeah, I mean, I'm raising money.

It's going to be months of research, lots of travel.

I don't know how you can spend so much time on one thing.

The world changes with every week, every day, every tweet.

-[director] Ten seconds. -[Luis] My questions?

-[man] I already gave them to you. -[Luis] I don't have my questions.

Wait, yeah. I've got them. Good to go.

[director] Come on! Come on!

-Relax. -[alarm sounds]

[news fanfare playing]

Welcome to another episode of Let's Suppose.

We've got a special show today.

Here with me is my close friend

and former copresenter on the eight o'clock news, Silverio Gama.

Renowned documentary filmmaker and the first, that's right,

the first Mexican to receive the Alethea Award for journalistic ethics,

given every four years by the American Society of Journalists.

You'll be getting it in Los Angeles in just a few days.

This interview is sponsored by Los Molinos Coffee. [sniffs]

[sips] Mm.

Simply delicious.

How are you? How do you feel being back in your Mexico?

I can't imagine how nervous you are. There's a lot riding on this award, no?

Silverio?

Are you with us? [chuckles]

Can we check his mic?

I think we've got a mic problem.

My apologies. This is the risk of doing live TV.

Let me shoot straight, Silverio.

Some of our colleagues say American liberals are using you,

and this award is to compensate for the far right's attacks on our country.

Are you aware of this?

Let's suppose they're giving you this award

to please a community full of Mexicans…

[audience laughs]

…in Los Angeles.

Do you not want to talk about it?

Let's talk about your private life, then.

As the great Sainte-Beuve said,

a man's private life, what he does, the decisions he makes every day,

even what he eats, all define his work.

Is it true it upset you that they called you "darky" as a child?

[audience laughs]

[Luis] That it embarrassed your mother and grandmother that you looked,

well, darker than you should?

More Indigenous than white?

[audience chuckles]

Was that disdain real?

[laughing] It's your family, no?

Señor…

Alejandra Bravo told us, on Instagram… Remember your first girlfriend?

At 16, you ran away with her to have a great adventure,

but you refused to take off your underwear!

[audience and Luis laugh]

Because you were scared of God's wrath, of hell…

What were you thinking?

You'd show up at the altar a virgin? [snickers]

The great Silverio Gama was a dark-skinned car washer,

a chump, a two-bit radio announcer.

But today he has an honorary degree from the UNAM.

He's a Chevalier des Arts in France, and he didn't even finish college.

[audience jeers and laughs]

He's an entitled bougie bastard

on a mission to portray misery and poverty and society's outcasts,

but he's best friends with this station's owner.

And his family supports the Club América de Fútbol.

[audience and Luis laughing hysterically]

[quietly] How's the "guard dog of the truth" feel on the receiving end?

You spent years making TV ads for capitalism,

but all of a sudden you're an artiste.

[audience cracks up]

I guess our friend doesn't feel like talking.

A word to the wise is sufficient.

[audience jeeringand laughing]

Amazing, Silverio.

You'll gladly run your trap for the gringos and whoever else,

but here you clam up.

A real shame.

We'll take a quick commercial break. We'll be back.

[news fanfare playing]

[audience cheering]

[music stops abruptly]

[keys jingle]

[Lucía] Silverio.

Can you hear me?

[sighs] I got held up.

[Lucía] Where are you?

I was trying to get an interview with Halbrook.

[Lucía] I feel you can hear me.

I hear you, Lucía.

[Silverio exhales]

[Lucía] There you are.

-Where'd you get off to? -I don't know.

-What do you mean? -I was out and about.

Why didn't you go to your interview with Luis?

You want something to drink?

The Let's Suppose producers haven't stopped calling.

[Silverio] Uh-huh.

-I didn't know what to say. -I'll call them later.

Luis was calling all day. He's furious.

He told me they spent the whole week hyping up the interview.

You're the one who accepted. I didn't want to go.

[scoffs] So now it's my fault.

[both sigh]

I was afraid they'd humiliate me, make me a laughingstock.

Why would they?

Because the whole thing's a joke.

-[Lucía] What is? -[Silverio sighs]

I go around seeking approval from people who despise me.

I act before I think, hoping to get what I want, then when I do,

I detest it.

And I'm ashamed I ever wanted it.

-[scoffs] -What are you talking about?

[Silverio] I spend my life convincing myself

of the importance of what I do, of the value of recognition.

Then when it comes, I feel nothing.

The one thing I feel is I don't deserve it.

-Of course you deserve it. -What do I deserve? That's hubris.

Your lack of humility is hubris, Silverio. You always do the same thing.

You work and hide in a corner for years,

and when you show your work, get recognition,

you turn bitter, give up, get depressed, and play the victim.

-[Silverio] I know. -It's exhausting, Silverio.

[Silverio] There are many things I'd like to change, but I can't.

And believe me, I've tried.

[Lucía] Your imposter syndrome is pathetic.

You could have at least called.

[Silverio] That's what Luis and everyone else thinks.

-They all know it. -It's craziness.

You inevitably turn into what you think others think you are.

[Silverio] All anyone's interested in are the inanities of our personal life.

Otherwise, nothing we do matters to them.

And you're just figuring that out now?

Not going was worse. Luis is smearing you all over the web.

Now it's not an audience laughing, it's his three million followers.

Look what he posted.

-[upbeat music playing on phone] -[Lucía laughing]

[Silverio] I'm telling you,

life is nothing but a series of idiotic images.

Exposure at any price.

Repeating the same scenes of us shitting,

wiping our asses, and being ridiculed.

Quit it.

-[Silverio] What? -Your lips aren't moving.

[Silverio] Does that bother you?

-Yeah, quit it. -Fine, I'll stop.

[cartoon Silverio shouts]

-[Silverio chuckles] -[cracks up]

[cell phone ringing and vibrating]

[Silverio exhales]

Ow.

[sighs deeply]

-[call disconnects] -Sooner or later, you'll have to call him.

[sighs] I know.

How dare you leave him hanging on a live TV show?

I'm going to Uruapan.

When?

I already told you. Tomorrow.

It's the biggest fair, and I can't let Lucero go alone.

I've been gone too long.

[cinematic orchestral melody playing]

[Silverio sighs]

-[Lucía] So…? -[breeze blowing gently]

[Silverio] It's got to be today, then.

What choice do we have?

[chuckles softly]

[both laughing]

[Silverio grunts]

Ah!

[Lucía giggling]

[Silverio chuckles]

[muttering softly]

-[chuckles] -[Lucía laughs]

Lucía?

[Lucía giggling softly]

[music grows suspenseful]

[Silverio] Ah!

[sighs]

[Silverio, softly] I found you.

[Lucía laughing in distance]

[Silverio] Lucía?

[Silverio takes a deep breath]

[epic soundtrack crescendos]

[Silverio screams]

[both laughing]

[epic soundtrack continues]

[Silverio grunts playfully]

[sighs]

[breeze blows gently]

[grunts softly]

[both laughing]

[Silverio humming nonchalantly]

[both continue laughing]

-[both panting] -[Silverio chuckles]

Hmm.

[grunts, scoffs]

[Lucía giggles]

Will you marry me?

[epic soundtrack swells]

-[Lucía screams] -[Silverio laughing]

[both shouting playfully]

[Silverio] Ow! [laughs]

-[melody cuts out] -[bells ring]

-[door slams] -[Silverio panting and laughing]

Lucía?

[sighs] Lucía?

[unsettling music playing]

[Silverio exhales, whispering] Lucía?

[chimes ringing]

[grunts]

[boy] Dad…

Dad.

[Silverio] Lorenzo?

[Lorenzo] What time is it?

[Silverio] Late… Early. I don't know.

You don't have to get up for a while.

-I had a nice dream. -What did you dream?

You were chasing Mom around the apartment.

You were both laughing.

-Mom had her boobies out. -[laughs]

You saw us?

No, it was just a dream.

[Silverio chuckles, sighs]

But…

I had a nightmare afterward.

[Silverio] Uh-huh.

I had a clear plastic tube

in my mouth, and it was blowing all this air,

and I swelled up like a balloon.

[Silverio hushes]

I couldn't breathe.

It was blocking my throat.

So… I pulled it out… with my hands.

[whispering] Talk softer. You're going to wake up your sister.

[quietly] She's not going to wake up.

She's asleep, same as me.

[softly] No.

There were people in the windows watching me,

but they didn't say anything.

-My brother Mateo was there too. -Ah.

And the people left, and you sat down on my bed

and looked at me with sad eyes.

As you are looking at me now, and that's what I'm dreaming.

-[gentle orchestral music playing] -And so are you.

-But we're awake. -No. I'm dreaming you.

-You can't dream that you're dreaming. -I can.

-No. -Yes, I can.

Does this hurt?

-No. -Really?

What about now?

-[giggles] No. -[grunting playfully] And now?

No, because I'm dreaming.

Here's what we'll do, then.

I'll cut off a lock of your hair and put it in the nightstand.

If you find it when you wake up tomorrow, that means we're awake. Huh?

Here we go.

[Lorenzo chuckles]

[softly] Good night. [kisses]

[sighs] Dad?

Huh?

Paco's sick.

How do you know?

[Lorenzo] There are worms.

[Silverio] Looks fine to me.

-[Lorenzo] Dad? -Yes?

Why's it called Los Angeles?

I don't know.

Are there angels in Los Angeles?

[chuckles] Maybe. Get some sleep.

-[Lorenzo] Dad? -Eh?

[Lorenzo] I don't want to leave them here.

-Who? -[Lorenzo] Paco, Guido, and Ernesto.

I want us to take them.

We'll talk about that tomorrow. It's sleepy time now.

[Lorenzo sighs]

[gentle music fades]

[Lucía] Where were you?

-You didn't close the door. -It doesn't matter.

[both laugh]

They can't hear us.

-[Lucía laughs] -[Silverio whispers, kisses]

-[Lucía yells playfully] -[Silverio chuckles]

[Lucía sighs]

[both breathing heavily]

[Lucía moaning softly]

[Silverio gasps]

[Lucía] What are you doing?

[Mateo mewling]

He's back.

Again?

[sighs] Push him back in.

[Mateo fussing]

[Lucía groans]

-What is it? -[grunts] He doesn't want to go.

Wait.

[whistling wistful tune]

[Silverio and Lucía sigh]

He keeps coming back.

I think he wanted to tell us something this time.

He's a baby. What's he going to say?

-He's trying to blame us. -For what?

For the distance between us.

For my selfishness.

Remember how I blew up the night before?

That's why we lost him.

[Lucía] We didn't lose him.

He chose not to come.

[Silverio] Mm-hmm.

[sighs] Lorenzo told me he saw Mateo in a dream.

How could he dream of him if Lorenzo was born a year later?

It doesn't matter. They remember him.

We told the kids over and over that Mateo wasn't here

because he was flying around heaven with his little wings.

Remember?

[sighs] Mateo's just an idea now.

He's not a person.

People come and go.

[exhales] Ideas are what remain.

[Lucía sighs heavily]

-I don't remember his face. -[Silverio] Mm.

How can a child just transform into a vague memory?

He didn't give me the chance.

To what?

I know I can be a good father.

[Lucía sighs]

Poor little boy.

If I saw that face of yours, I'd want to crawl back inside my mother too.

[both laugh]

He must have been horrified when he saw you.

Poor Lorenzo and Camila didn't have a choice.

They have to look at this mug every day.

[chuckles]

-[sighs] -We should let Mateo go.

[exhales]

We could start by taking him out of this room.

[Silverio] Mm-hmm.

We need to find a new place for him.

Somewhere he can rest.

[birds singing]

[thunder rumbling in distance]

[Lucía] Get up, Silverio.

I'm making breakfast.

[footsteps fade]

[door opens]

-[intercom rings] -[Silverio] Who's coming?

[Lucía] Hello? Come on up.

-It's Miguel. -[Silverio] Miguel who?

The hairdresser. He's been here before.

-So early? -They're picking us up at 7:00 p.m.

It's 10:00 a.m. Will you spend nine hours with your hair done up?

Yeah, for you. You should be grateful.

You could have shut the door last night before doing whatever you were doing.

Good morning, Lorenzo. How'd you sleep?

[in English] I barely fit in the fucking bed.

[in Spanish] I'm making eggs. Does anyone want some?

[in English] No, I'm fine.

-[in Spanish] Silverio? Eggs? -[Silverio] Hmm?

[doorbell buzzes]

[Lorenzo] Who's that?

[Silverio] Miguel.

-Miguel who? -[Silverio] The hairdresser.

[Lorenzo sighs]

[Miguel] Hola.

[Lucía] Go into the living room. I'll meet you there.

[Silverio] Today's the journalist union party.

-I thought it was tomorrow. -[Silverio] No, today.

-[Lorenzo exhales] -Thanks for being so nice with Miguel.

[Lucía sighs]

[Silverio] Hey, what do you think of this?

[gentle instrumental music playing on laptop]

-What is it? -[Silverio] My neighborhood. Narvarte.

Martín wants us to start the video with images and photos of my roots.

I like the idea, but don't use that music.

[Silverio mutters]

[in English] Boring.

[Silverio, in Spanish] Why?

Dad, who gives a shit about roots?

[in English] We all come from somewhere.

[Silverio, in Spanish] Not everyone knows where I'm from.

But you're right. If I don't care, who the fuck would?

-[boy laughs on recording] -[Silverio] Do you want to watch a movie?

-[boy] Moo… mie. -[Lucía laughs]

-[Silverio] What do you think of this? -No!

-Who is that? Me? -[boy babbles on recording]

-No, you can't put that on. -[family sings on recording]

It's embarrassing.

[in English] I'll forbid you.

[singing along to "Cómo te extraño mi amor"]

[in Spanish] Where'd you find that? I haven't heard it in years.

-We recorded it on the way to Zihuatanejo. -Mom, stop.

Your dad and I recorded everything for the first… what? Twelve years?

Every sound on every trip we took.

We even recorded your farts.

-[Silverio] Wait, listen to this. -[calming music playing]

Is that Japan?

-Incredible. -[singing on recording]

-[in English] Please don't use that. -[Silverio, in Spanish] Why not?

[in English] It's our life soundtrack.

[in Spanish] Jesus, wash your hair. What time is Camila coming?

After lunch. She's going to call me when she lands.

Your chilaquiles are ready.

You need to eat, Silverio. You've got a long day.

There are no eggs.

-I'll be back. I'm going with Miguel. -No eggs?

[indistinct conversations on recording]

[Silverio sighs]

[in English] What's that now?

[in Spanish] One of my strangest and most emotional documentaries.

On their way to the US border to seek asylum,

the people in the caravan stopped to pray at the Cerro de las Piedras.

And Our Lady of San Juan de los Lagos appeared.

There were many of them, but they never made it to the border.

When we tried to find them,

all that was left was their clothes, some belongings.

No sign of the bodies.

Some people told us

that Our Lady of San Juan de los Lagos came to take them away.

Maybe it was an answer to so much faith and despair.

-And you believe it? -No.

I don't believe anything until I see it.

But a documentarian shouldn't believe or not believe.

He just needs to look and know where to focus.

And some of these people told the camera incredible stories.

-You're going to put that in your video? -Yeah, I think so.

[in English] Why?

[in Spanish] Because that's a big part of what we are, a country of immigrants.

These people make sacrifices and leave everything behind

because here they're nothing.

They're looking for something better.

Cleaning the bathrooms at an In-N-Out is better?

Yeah, for many of them, it is.

No. They go 'cause they want to. We left too.

No, it's not the same.

[in English] Why not? We left everything here.

[in Spanish] Yeah, but they don't have a choice.

They leave because there's no work.

Here, people kill them, extort them.

We didn't lack anything. We're first-class immigrants.

[in English] I don't get it.

[in Spanish] What?

[in English] How is this representing you?

Why use these people to talk about your life

if you don't know who they are or how they live?

You shoot them, you interview them,

you even make money with them, but you don't know them at all.

[in Spanish] Who made you king shit?

[in English] What?

[in Spanish] You're 17 years old, and you act like you know everything.

When I was your age, I was on a fishing boat, working.

[in English] Here you go. The stupid boat. C'mon.

[in Spanish] That's what happens when you give someone everything

and they never learn shit.

You don't appreciate anything because you've never worked for it.

[laughing] You've got no responsibilities.

[scoffs, in English] It's your fault.

[in Spanish] What?

[in English] You brought me to the world.

[in Spanish] No one told me. No one ever warns you about it.

Your kid becomes a teenager, and it's a full-time job.

Everything's a fucking problem.

[in English] Wow, I didn't ask you to bring me here.

-[Lorenzo laughs] -[Silverio scoffs, chuckles]

[in Spanish] You realize that, right?

That you don't respect anyone or anything. Not even your parents.

And those people whose lives you find depressing,

at least they respect who they are, their ancestors, their customs…

Their rituals existed way before the USA,

a country that only respects money, learned to walk.

[in English] You don't know them. And that's the truth. It's not your truth.

No. But how can you know if I appreciate things or not?

I do appreciate things but not the ones you do.

And yes, things cost me a lot.

Even now, expressing my feelings, which you insist I should do.

[in Spanish] Yes, I insist.

[in English] It costs me a lot, but I do it.

Just, they're not the feelings you would like, so they must not be true.

-[in Spanish] Speak Spanish. -[phone ringing]

[in English] Why?

[in Spanish] Because we're in Mexico, we're Mexicans, and we speak Spanish!

You couldn't pick up the phone?

Hello?

[in English] You always do the same, Dad.

Every time we come to Mexico, you try to convince me of how cool,

deep, spiritual, and cultural it is.

But it's not.

People suffer and starve.

[in Spanish] Stop.

[in English] If you love Mexico so much,

why'd you take Camila and me to the States?

-Why did you make us grow up there? -[Lucía] Bye.

[in Spanish] That was Reynolds.

He said the award rehearsal is next Tuesday at 5:00 p.m. LA time.

[thunder rumbles]

[in English] Congratulations. You're the big shit, Dad.

That country that only respects for money is going to give you an award.

And you're going to go get it.

I'm just looking forward to hear what you will say.

[Lorenzo scoffs]

[in Spanish] Our Lady of Los Lagos didn't make those immigrants disappear.

They disappeared because they fucking died.

[door slams loudly]

["Everybody" by Mac Miller playing on stereo in Lorenzo's room]

-You know you're no different, right? -What?

If someone praises Mexico, you lecture them about how it is.

If a gringo criticizes it, you recite why it's the most fascinating gastronomical,

anthropological, and cultural experiment the world's ever known.

Lucía, all I'm saying is you have to leave Mexico

to realize what you've lost and what they've stolen and destroyed.

Lorenzo was trying to tell you he thinks it's a poor country.

It's not poor, it's unequal. There's a difference.

Perfect. You win again, Silverio.

Your justifications are faultless. As always.

When's the last time you strolled in the city?

[hip-hop blasting on stereo]

Let it go.

You really want another chance?

-At what? -At being a good father.

-[Silverio] Yeah. -Well, you've got one.

With Lorenzo and Camila. They're still young.

You just need to learn to be present.

[Silverio] I'm here, Lucía.

Yeah, with your laptop, working on your fucking award video.

-["Everybody" stops] -[door opens]

[Hortensia] I'm going to pick up the clothes!

[trackpad clicks]

[woman singing "Don't Be Concerned, Old One" on laptop]

[brass and percussion instruments playing steady march on recording]

[woman singing in Low Mixtec]

[crowd chatting indistinctly]

[dog barking]

[child coughs]

[horns honking in distance]

[baby crying]

[in Low Mixtec] This desert is a killing machine.

If the heat and mountains don't kill you, a snake or a scorpion will.

[in Spanish] Where are you going?

[in Low Mixtec] Arizona.

We'll cross through Nogales.

[in Spanish] We're taking the god Centéotl so they'll bring him back to life.

[Silverio] What happened to the god Centéotl?

[in Low Mixtec] He died.

There's no corn left. We're starving to death.

[in Spanish] You don't have to die to go to hell.

Just go to Chalchihuites, and you'll find it.

There, in our village, everything is death, hunger, violence.

[Silverio] Are there more people with you?

[in Low Mixtec] Our grandkids.

[in Spanish] Back there, they've got Centéotl.

My two kids were killed.

So we're going north to meet my brother.

[Silverio] Thanks.

Safe travels.

[brass and percussion instruments playing]

[sound effects playing on gaming console]

[car horns blaring]

[helicopter blades whirring overhead]

Do you have enough water?

[girl, in Low Mixtec] There she is! They found her!

[crowd chattering excitedly]

[woman, in Low Mixtec] Listen to my sister! She's on the phone!

She says Our Lady of Los Lagos appeared to them on the Cerro de las Piedras.

As they reached the top of the hill, night turned to day.

And then she appeared! She's blessing them!

[crowd praying]

[people singing on phone]

-[prayers fade] -[breeze blows gently]

[Lucía, in Spanish] Silverio…

[whispering] Silverio…

[crow caws]

Silverio, how are you feeling?

You seem tired.

Peaceful.

Tranquil.

[Silverio grunts softly]

-["In the Cage" playing a cappella] -♪ I got sunshine in my stomach ♪

♪ Like I just rocked my baby to sleep ♪

♪ I got sunshine in my stomach ♪

[both breathing heavily]

♪ But I can't keep me From creeping sleep ♪

♪ Sleep, deep in the deep ♪

[Silverio] You're not scared?

[man] Scared of what?

[Silverio] Of dying.

[man cackles]

For you people, death is a Christian affair.

A comfortable heart attack in bed.

For us, it's our daily bread.

Getting tossed in a mass grave.

Here in jail, no one can come in and kill me.

But I can have you killed out there.

I used to be poor, invisible.

You all ignored me for decades.

Now… I've got you by the balls.

[chuckles]

We're walking bombs.

There are millions of us in the poor villages.

We stand at the heart of the paradox.

We're a new species.

A different beast. We're not like you.

[Silverio] What should we have done?

[scoffs] You intellectuals

love running your mouths about class struggle, the marginalized.

Then we show up.

[laughs maniacally]

The proletariat, the dejected, the exploited, all that's old news.

There's something new growing out there,

raised in the mud, schooled on the purest illiteracy,

and it lurks like an alien monster in the corners of the city.

You're looking at what you might call "post-poverty."

[Silverio] What changed out in the slums?

[interviewee] Cash. We've got millions,

and you are all bankrupt and are led by incompetents.

-Damn straight! -[audience laughs]

[interviewee] Get it?

Our methods are agile,

you're slow and bureaucratic.

We don't fear death, you're dying of fear.

We pack real guns,

you pack .38s.

We attack, you defend.

You say "human rights," we say "no mercy."

You've made us TV stars, we've made you clowns.

The slum dwellers help us, out of love or fear, but they hate you.

You're regional, provincial, nationalist, corrupt.

We've got 50 million captive gringo junkies.

Our guns come from overseas, from the Yankees.

We're global.

We don't forget about you. You're our customers.

You forget us as soon as the shock of the violence we provoke has passed.

[laughs menacingly]

[audience applauds]

HONORARY MEMBER OF THE MEXICAN JOURNALISTS UNION

[audience cheering]

["El día de mi suerte" playing]

CALIFORNIA DANCING CLUB

[crowd clamoring]

How's it feel being in front of the camera?

[reporter] What's going through your head now?

If I told you what I was thinking right now, I'd get locked up for life.

Do you feel more gringo or more Mexican?

My nationality is no nationality.

Do you understand what's going on in your country?

No. Honestly, I can't understand my country.

All I can do is love it.

How should we respond to the most dangerous cartel on the planet?

The corporate cartel of the USA.

[man] Silverio!

Will you take a photo with me?

-Sure. Thanks. -[camera shutter clicks]

-[Lucía] Thanks. -I love your work.

-Thanks. -[Lucía] I love your work too.

Thank you. Good night.

[camera shutter clicks]

["El día de mi suerte" continues playing]

[Silverio] Hey!

[indistinct chatter]

That arrogant son of a bitch. [laughs]

-No mezcal around? -I saw a waiter serving some over there.

[Silverio yelps]

Dad!

[Silverio] Darling! It's good to see you!

The flight was delayed. It won't stop snowing in Boston.

[Camila and Lucía exclaim]

[Camila] Ah!

[in English] What's up, bro?

[both exclaim]

[in Spanish] So this whole party's just for you?

-So it seems. -[Lucía laughs]

Horrible. Come on, my aunts and uncles are over there.

-The whole family's waiting for you. -[Silverio] Where are they?

[singing "El día de mi suerte"]

-Where are they? -In the back, Mom.

[indistinct chatter]

Brother-in-law!

Who paid for this blowout? Thought you journalists were broke.

No matter if they treat you nice or bad, you bitch anyway.

-Have a fucking drink. They're free. -In that case…

-My darky! -[Silverio] My dear sister!

-I loved the documentary. So much. -So good. But a little whiny, no?

And a little long.

-It's 90 minutes long, you lazy bum. -[sister laughs]

-[woman exclaims] -No, no, no, no! Oh, wow!

-The jewel in the crown. -I clean up pretty good, don't I?

Maybe you can stick me in your next film,

even just in the corner as an extra. [kisses]

Congratulations.

[man whistling]

[Silverio whistling back]

[man whistles]

-[Silverio whistling rhythmically] -[man whistles back]

[group exclaims]

You finally made it, you bastard!

I missed you guys.

It's a miracle, cabrón!

My daughter got married, you bailed. My father died, you bailed.

But they throw a party for you, and here you are.

You think his lordship will come to our bullshit get-togethers?

Good to see you. Congratulations, cabrón.

They won't leave you alone. They're disguised complaints, brother.

Who'd have thought you'd get an award

from the same bastards you've been criticizing your whole life?

I know, right?

-You've got something on your nose. -What?

Ah. [sniffs]

A piece of shit from kissing all that gringo ass.

Honestly, considering you're such a dumbass, you surprised all of us.

Piss off.

Seriously, though. I really admire you.

Thanks. I admire you too.

-Keep your feet on the ground, eh? -How about you lift your fat ass off it?

He fucking got me! He's calling me a loser, cabrón.

Go back to the other side and kiss some more Mexican ass.

Don't fuck with him. You'll wind up in the papers.

Look who's coming! Pablo Galindo!

[friend] Pablito, run and hide, cabrón.

You don't want word getting out about your beach mansion in Baja.

I couldn't give a fuck, pal.

[all laugh]

Here's to Silverio.

A toast!

[man whistling]

-[Silverio] Cheers! -[group] Cheers!

["Qué lío" playing]

[excited chatter]

[Silverio] Give me a cigarette. These people are driving me nuts.

-Who is that? -[Lucía] Where?

Over there. The art critic. I forgot his name.

As usual.

Hey, Luis.

Thanks for showing up.

[Luis] Thanks for not inviting me, cabrón.

Lucía, how are you? [kisses]

-[Lucía] Good, Luis. So nice you came. -Thanks.

-I'm going for a mezcal. Want anything? -No, thanks. I'm good.

-Mezcal, thanks. -Okay.

The illustrious Don Silverio Gama. [laughs mockingly]

Journalist, documentarian/artist.

The icon looking down on us from his pedestal.

Who neither shows up for his interview,

nor cares about the efforts made by an entire live TV crew.

I'm sorry, Luis.

'Cause to you, everyone at this party is just a peon.

Yeah, each and every one of us. But you're wrong.

Those of us who didn't hightail it out of Mexico, we're martyrs.

-Luis, I swear-- -Ditching me wasn't enough, Silverio?

I've been trying to find you for days.

Why didn't you face me?

I know. I'm sorry, I am.

Why?

Uh, Luis, I'm thankful you invited me on your show, but…

But what, cabrón?

[splutters] I just couldn't do it.

-My show isn't good enough for you? -Don't do this to me. Please.

You and I are friends.

Exactly, cabrón.

And when friends call, you pick up.

You shoot straight. Especially you.

Mr. Truth, Mr. Critical Thinking.

Give me a break. [scoffs]

[group chattering]

Come on, please.

[bolero music continues playing]

[Silverio] You've trashed my work publicly thousands of times.

-[Luis scoffs] -Luis, why did you invite me?

[Luis] What do you mean, "why?"

If you hate my work so much, why bother?

I'm a journalist, not your fan or lackey.

You're my friend, and I think that's what you've come to proclaim.

But if you were, you'd say the truth to my face, not publicly.

-You want the truth? -I do.

Want to know what I think of your documentary?

Shoot. I can handle it.

I think it's pretentious. It's pointlessly oneiric.

It's oneiric to cover up for your mediocre writing.

It's a mishmash of pointless scenes.

Half the time, I wanted to crack up, the other half I was dying of boredom.

It's supposed to be metaphorical, but it lacks poetic inspiration.

It feels stolen. Plagiarized. And you barely covered your tracks.

-[Silverio chuckles] -What's so funny? It's banal, random.

That shit with the soldiers in blond wigs at Chapultepec Castle…

Come on.

First the guy's on the train with some axolotls.

Then bang, he's in his apartment in the middle of the desert.

Just because. 'Cause that's how it popped into your head.

Why there and not, say, the Estadio Azteca? [laughs]

-Why not? -Because life isn't like that, man.

There's chronology. Order. Causes and consequences.

It's a docufiction, Luis. Humor's serious business.

Unintentional humor because you broke every rule of good journalism.

Fuck objectivity, neutrality, history, truth.

You couldn't check your ego.

You even put yourself in the movie, cabrón. [laughs]

You used historical figures to talk about yourself.

Who the fuck do you think you are?

Answer, cabrón!

Gimme a smoke.

["Salsa y bembé" playing]

If you want to talk about your life, tell it straight.

Write an autobiography.

Screw that. Nothing could be more boring or banal than my life.

What the fuck were you trying to say?

You talk about your private life or the cosmos,

your personal tragedies or politics.

-What was that? A memoir, a farce, or… -[Silverio sighs]

I'm all those things and none of them, Luis.

You sound like an artiste.

Maybe it's just a chronicle of uncertainties.

That suits me fine.

You've got to be crazy. A chronicle of uncertainties? Fuck.

Luis, I'm not interested in talking about my life.

Memory lacks truth. All it has is emotional conviction.

Anyway, I'm tired of saying what I think and not what I feel.

You're a journalist.

You have to say what you think and think what you say.

At least you used to have solid ideas.

What good are solid ideas in a world that slips through our fingers?

[Luis scoffs] You're getting old, buddy. A clear case of a midlife crisis.

[laughing] Could be.

At this age, life goes so fast, it starts to feel like a convulsion.

[sighs]

A tumult of images, memories, slivers,

all knotted together.

-[Silverio sighs] -["Los aretes de la luna" playing]

How beautiful this ugly city is, don't you think? [laughs]

For fuck's sake, man. [laughing]

-Sorry to interrupt. -No problem.

Luis Valdivia, can we take a photo?

-Of course. -Thank you.

-In the middle, please. -[Luis] Yes.

Perfect.

One, two…

Excellent.

[woman] Thanks so much. We're huge fans of your show.

[Luis] Thanks. Good night.

Just don't forget, Silverio,

where you come from or who you were before you met me.

[Silverio cracks up]

What are you laughing at, dickhead?

[continues laughing]

At your fucking certainties, cabrón.

Categorical, like your journalism.

Blinkered, like your acumen.

As mediocre as your artistic aptitudes.

I'm laughing at your short-sighted, flag-waving nationalism.

Your provincialism.

How you bow down to an industry devoted to public humiliation

and online lynching.

The clicks that tell us what to believe.

The new gold mine for corporations.

Luis, I am who I am because I got away from you, from here, from TV.

Look at you.

Vulgar.

Spiteful. And proud of it to boot.

You're a fake.

Scrounging for likes on your socials. Strolling around with your goons.

Rubbing elbows with the president, pushing faddish ideologies and idiocies.

You're the perfect image of today's journalist, Luis.

An entertainer, an opinion peddler.

It's people like you who've left us without truth.

Beat it. Go dance. I'm tired of hearing you.

[in English] Tough men don't dance.

[in Spanish] That's my father's line, and I forbid you to use it.

Go, I'm sick of hearing your voice.

[Luis speaking inaudibly]

[Silverio grunts softly]

["Los aretes de la luna" continues playing]

[Silverio chuckling] Mm.

I told you I'm sick of your voice.

[Luis continues shouting inaudibly]

[Silverio scoffs]

-[sighs] Finally. -How was it with Luis?

Tell me.

[Silverio exhales]

Marvelous. [chuckles]

[Lucía laughs] Seriously?

[both chuckle]

[Lucía] Come on. Let's dance.

[band playing "Aguanile"]

-Let's have a mezcal. -Let's dance instead.

Please.

-No, wait! -Let's dance.

I don't feel like it.

There are 100 guys here who'd kill for a dance with me.

[both laugh]

[lively salsa music grows louder]

[Silverio] Oh, it seems the jungle's calling.

[crowd cheering]

-Hey! -Hey!

[Silverio cheers]

[both grunt to beat]

[Silverio, in English] Come on!

Dad!

You recognize this song?

-Which one? -This one.

-["La pava congona" playing] -[crowd cheers]

[jaunty cumbia music playing]

[Martín and woman exclaim]

[Silverio and Martín laugh]

-Silverio! -Cloe!

-[Silverio chuckles] -[man cheers]

[Martín laughs]

[a cappella rendition of "Let's Dance" playing]

-[sound of crowd fades] -♪ Ah ♪

♪ Ah ♪

♪ Ah ♪

♪ Let's dance ♪

♪ Put on your red shoes And dance the blues ♪

♪ Let's dance ♪

♪ To the song They're playin' on the radio ♪

♪ Let's sway ♪

♪ While color lights up your face ♪

♪ Let's sway ♪

♪ Sway through the crowd To an empty space ♪

♪ If you say run ♪

♪ I'll run with you ♪

♪ And if you say hide ♪

-♪ We'll hide ♪ -♪ Hide, hide, hide ♪

♪ Because my love for you ♪

♪ Would break my heart in two ♪

[singers vocalizing]

♪ If you should fall into my arms ♪

♪ And tremble like a flower ♪

-[static crackles] -[feedback squeals]

[crowd murmuring and booing]

[man over speakers] My apologies. The festivities will continue in a moment.

Before we invite up our guest of honor,

we'll hear a few words

from our esteemed secretary of the interior,

Mr. Siniestro Quiñones.

Let's give him a round of applause.

[crowd cheers and applauds]

[Siniestro] Thank you. Thank you so much.

This celebration will close with a major award.

An award that fills us with pride, that for the first time

will be given to a Mexican

or Latin American journalist.

-Where's the guest of honor? -[man] Silverio!

Come up and say a few words.

-[Camila] Dad, where are you going? -[Siniestro] Where is he?

-[crowd chanting] Silverio! -[Siniestro] He'll be here soon.

-[crowd] Silverio! Silverio! Silverio! -It seems he's missing.

-[crowd] Silverio! Silverio! -[Siniestro] Let's all shout his name!

[crowd] Silverio! Silverio!

[Siniestro] I've said my piece. Now it's Silverio's turn.

[crowd continues chanting]

[Siniestro, with crowd] Silverio! Silverio! Silverio!

MEN'S RESTROOM

[door closes]

[crowd continues chanting outside]

[Silverio exhales]

-[Siniestro addressing crowd] -[crowd cheering]

-[sighs] -[urinating]

[man] What is this?

Impossible.

My little boy has turned so gray.

I'm nearly your age, Pa.

You're an old man now. [chuckles]

Age comes without warning.

Then it turns into a full-time job.

Walking, eating, using the bathroom… everything's a problem.

No one ever told me.

Nobody ever warns you about it.

[softly] I'm glad you came.

How could I miss my boy's party?

I'm sorry your mother couldn't be here.

The thought that I'll never be with her again is unbearable.

But sometimes I visit her in her room and pull her by the legs.

[both chuckle]

[father sighs]

Son…

I'm so sorry I never told you

how proud I am of you.

You did, though, Pa.

In your way. Without saying it.

I realized that eventually.

You were a great father.

[chuckles] I lost all I had.

That's why I couldn't be more.

A father and sometimes a husband.

But I was always ashamed

of what I could have been but wasn't.

But you, you're a man of the world.

-[Silverio sighs] Yeah. -You're very successful.

[Silverio] Mm-hmm.

And you were such a loser.

[both laugh]

I promise, your mother and I never saw this coming.

I know.

Me neither.

You know, sometimes I'm also ashamed of what I am

and what I should have been.

Are you okay?

It sure would have helped me to know how you felt about me back then.

To hear it.

To know you saw me.

I did the best I could.

We always do our best,

but it's never enough.

[father] Mm-hmm.

Success has been my biggest failure.

I'd trade everything to give Camila and Lorenzo what you gave us.

Come on. Chin up.

This is a party.

Depression's a bourgeois illness, fruit of too much leisure.

We've got no time for sorrow. Hmm?

[father chuckles]

[nostalgic melody playing]

[Silverio] I see you every day.

I feel you close to me because I let you go.

I miss your big hands, your clean scent.

I miss our talks.

You always brought out the best in me.

[father] I'm always here, son, whenever you need me.

I still can't let Mateo go.

[father] You'll eventually learn how.

Life is just a brief series of senseless events.

You must surrender to it.

Clench your fists.

Hold your head high.

Let's drown our shame with a drink and toast to your success.

-Cheers. -Cheers.

[both exhale]

Remember what I always told you?

[together] Take a swig of success.

Swish it around, and spit it out.

Otherwise, it'll poison you.

[both laugh]

[nostalgic melody continues]

[birds singing]

[nostalgic melody fades]

[woman] Who's there?

[Silverio] Hi, Ma.

[mother] What a surprise.

[Silverio chuckles]

[mother] I didn't know you were coming.

[Silverio] Yes, I called you yesterday. We talked for a good while.

I said I'd be here today.

[mother] Did you talk to your brother and sisters?

[Silverio] I saw them at the party.

[mother] The party?

[Silverio] The Mexican journalists held a tribute for me.

I was going to invite you, but I thought…

[mother] I thought you'd come with the kids.

[church bell ringing]

[mother] How are Camila and Mateo?

Lorenzo.

Camila and Lorenzo.

[mother] Ah. What did I say?

Mateo.

-[mother] Impossible. -[Silverio chuckles]

[mother] Your Mateo was born dead.

He wasn't born dead, Mama.

He lived for a day, 30 hours.

That's not living.

Just like this isn't living.

I should be dead.

Mama, you've been saying that for ten years.

Everyone's croaked, and you're still here.

What'd you do yesterday?

We went to the movies.

With Aunt Elvira and her friends from the nursing home?

Yeah. Mm-hmm.

And?

A bunch of old people.

[laughs]

Really boring.

What did you expect?

[mother grunts]

People like me.

-My age. -[Silverio chuckles]

Something weird happened.

What?

-I went to the bathroom in the cinema… -Oh?

You won't believe it.

My bed was in there.

Someone had put my whole bedroom in there.

-You must have dreamed that. -No, son.

Someone took my home to the cinema.

There it is… outside.

All I wanted was to see the end of the movie.

We're at your home, Ma.

Come on, let's look at the patio.

See how the shrub blossomed?

-Huh? -[mother] Yeah.

[Silverio] This is your patio. This is your house.

[mother] Mm-hmm.

How are things with Susana?

[mother] Oh, son. [sighs]

This maid is robbing me.

She's not a maid. She's your nurse.

Yeah. These people are all the same.

Susana's educated. She's a professional. Why do you look down on her?

A few days ago, your papa brought me some bracelets

that belonged to your grandmother.

And now I can't find them.

Papa died eight years ago.

No, he didn't.

He died, Mama.

What are you saying?

I saw your father at Christmas at your brother's house.

-He wouldn't talk to me. -[sighs]

He must have been angry, or he's with some other woman.

[chuckles]

He comes to see me now and then.

When I'm sleeping on my stomach, he grabs me by the legs.

Then he lulls me with his song.

[Silverio] What song?

[whistling wistful tune]

[Silverio chuckles]

-Oh, I don't remember. -Mm.

It's that… [chuckles]

…the first time I made love with your dad, we listened to that song.

And then… he'd whistle it to you when you were in my belly.

And when you were little, and you'd scream and throw tantrums,

he'd whistle that song to you, and you'd calm down.

[Silverio] Really? I don't remember.

I don't remember anything from my childhood.

Who sang it?

It was by Agustín Lara or… Pérez Prado.

[Silverio] Doesn't ring a bell.

Talk with your mouth, son. You're driving me crazy.

Sorry.

But try and remember the song, Mama.

Who sang it?

The selfish man took it with him.

[dog whining]

[whimpers]

[wind whistling]

[Silverio sighs]

[breeze blowing gently]

[footsteps approaching]

[soft rustling]

[ominous music playing]

[footsteps approaching]

[Silverio gasps]

[ominous music fades]

[tools clanging]

Excuse me.

["Así me gusta" playing on stereo]

[upbeat dance music fades]

[bell rings]

[excited chatter]

[dog barking]

["Bailando" playing over speakers]

[man whistling]

[crowd clamoring]

[horns honking]

[man speaking indistinctly over speaker]

[vendor] Good afternoon, sir. What'll you have?

We've got tripe, campechano…

Give me two beef tongue, please.

[vendor] Coming right up.

-With everything? -Yeah, everything.

-[Silverio] Are you okay? -[woman] Yes.

-Do you need help? -[woman] No.

-Let me-- -Don't touch me!

[man] What's up with her?

-[Silverio] I don't know. -[man] Is she dead?

I'm not dead.

I'm missing.

-But you are right here, miss. -[man] Leave her. They do this.

They go missing, yet they keep pestering everyone.

They neither return nor die.

Miss, what's going on? Tell me.

[woman] I can't.

[man] They stay by not staying.

All they do is complain, buddy. [scoffs]

["Cumbia zapoteca" playing]

Please, tell me what's wrong.

Trust me, it's best not to know.

[bodies falling heavily]

[energetic cumbia music building]

[silence falls]

[wind gusting]

[bird calling]

[Silverio gasps]

[bugle calling]

[snare drum beats]

[ominous music playing]

[wind picks up]

[chime rings]

[chime rings]

[ominous music fades]

[bell tolling]

[wings fluttering]

[wind picks up]

[Silverio breathing shakily]

[high-pitched whistle]

Martín!

Hey!

Hey!

Police!

[bells tolling]

[dogs barking in distance]

[thunder rumbling]

[dog whines]

[dogs panting]

[dogs whine]

[bells tolling]

[dogs barking in distance]

[Centéotl breathing heavily]

[man with Spanish accent] Ideas ate the deities!

The deities became ideas!

[flies buzzing]

[man] Great bladders full of bile!

The bladders burst!

The idols exploded!

Putrefaction of deities!

Swarm of flies!

The sanctuary was a dung heap!

The dung heap a nursery!

[Silverio panting]

[man] Armed ideas sprouted, idealized ideodeities,

sharpened syllogisms!

[Silverio grunts]

[man] Cannibal deities!

Ideas idiotic as deities.

Rabid dogs. Dogs in love with their own vomit.

[Silverio catching his breath]

We have dug up rage.

The amphitheater of the genital sun is a dung heap.

A dead country where none of us die.

Who do you think you are, stealing Octavio Paz's ideas?

[man] His words exist because I existed, Silverio.

[scoffs] Don't make me laugh, Hernán Cortés.

You were just a thug,

a jackal with a machete, slicing blindly through the jungle.

-There's not a single book in your body. -[Cortés] You don't know me.

-No one knows me. -[Silverio] Eh.

If your sense of shame was proportional to the disaster your conquest wrought,

maybe you'd be a bit humbler.

[Cortés laughs] Nah.

Got a light?

[Cortés chuckles]

[lighter clicks]

[Cortés] I know what you're thinking.

Five hundred years people have blamed me without understanding shit.

-Don't you realize where you're sitting? -Don't you? Look around.

The most beautiful city, inhabited by 300,000 Indians.

-They weren't Indians. -Americans, then.

-Still wrong. -Whatever.

How could 400 Spaniards with 16 horsemen and a little gunpowder trample an empire?

-Those Indians-- -They weren't Indians!

Cannibals, whatever. They ate each other like savages.

They all hated each other.

And they all hated the tlatoani.

In that corner right there, I met Moctezuma.

-Good dude. -No.

[Cortés] Yeah.

That corner right there is where we discovered Europe.

-We were just trying to help you. -[Silverio laughs]

We gave you our God and our language.

And smallpox and measles and the fear of hell.

[Cortés laughs] And gonorrhea.

And your army and the oligarchy and your church

and 300 years of the ugliest fucking viceroys imaginable!

Look at our god Centéotl.

You buried our gods and brought us a new one, still bloody,

tortured, and crucified.

Don't be a moron, Cortés.

You were nothing more than a useful foreigner.

It's easy to win a war when the enemy, our people, betrays and attacks itself.

I never wanted war.

I fell in love with this land and its people.

Pretty words from the mouth of a murderer.

Murderer?

I laid the foundations for a new world.

My children were the first Mexicans, so I am your father, like it or not.

I lived a Mexican, and I died more Mexican than anyone.

I'm sorry to say, people hate you as much in Mexico as they do in Spain.

There's not a single statue of you.

[Cortés chuckles]

Sometimes we think we're from several places,

when in fact, we're from nowhere.

Maybe hatred is every great man's fate.

And quit with the childish tantrums, Silverio.

Why are you so mad?

It's not like you're an Indian, mulatto, mongrel.

Look at yourself, you're more Creole and Mestizo than my own children. [laughs]

You don't want to be Indians. Or Spaniards.

[man groaning]

You've willfully condemned yourselves to bastardy,

to coexist in limbo.

-[man whines] -[Cortés] For fuck's sake.

Turn that shit off! You're gonna blind me!

[Silverio] What is it?

-[man] He burned me with that cigarette! -[Silverio] Don't move.

Don't move. Don't move.

Stop moving! Stay still! We're doing another take!

-[cell phone ringing] -[Silverio] Cut! Martín!

Martín, don't let anyone move for Christ's sake!

[actor 1] What's up, cabrón?

-[Martín] Five minutes! -[Silverio] Wait!

[Martín] Dead and missing people to your positions!

[Silverio] Martín, we're doing another take. Everyone, stay still!

Goddammit!

[actor 2] I'm good. Nah, I'm here shooting with a cocky director.

One of those movies about Hernán Cortés or some bullshit.

[actors chanting] Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

-Sube, Pelayo, sube! -[eagle cries]

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

Sube, Pelayo, sube!

-Sube, Pelayo, sube! -[chanting fades]

[seagull caws]

[waves crashing]

[laughing and indistinct chatter]

[brother-in-law] Nice fucking house, man.

Did Pablo Galindo ask you for rent?

He just lent it to me for a couple of days.

Rich people don't do anything for free.

That's why they're rich. [laughs]

This is gorgeous.

He will charge for this one way or another.

Hortensia and I are going to the club to get our beach stuff.

-[Silverio] On my way. Get Lorenzo. -[Camila] Lorenzo is taking a nap.

No. There'll be time to nap later.

Life's rich with rich friends, brother.

I'm going to the beach before you start breaking my balls.

Just don't steal the flatware, cabrones!

-[brother-in-law] Only the real silver! -[man] Or some nice wine! [laughs]

[teens chattering in pool]

[gulls cry]

[group speaking indistinctly in English]

Good morning, sir.

Go on ahead.

[Camila] Pa!

Come here!

-What's up? -This man won't let Hortensia in.

Why? Is there a problem?

-Servants can't enter. -She's family.

Rules of the place.

Can't you make an exception?

We're guests of Pablo Galindo. We're staying at his home--

Sorry, sir. But all the owners agreed to the rule.

Servants can't use the facilities.

Not even to walk the beach?

I'm sorry, miss.

Who's your superior?

He's off today.

-Hortensia, go home-- -No! If Hortensia can't go, no one will.

-Those are the rules of the place. -You have to do something. At least--

Those are the rules of the place!

-I'll call Pablo, and-- -[Hortensia] Why bother, sir?

It's those rich people who make the rules.

Let's get out of here.

Stick your beach up your ass, then!

["Mi niña" playing]

-[man] It's official. -[woman] What?

[man] Amazon just bought Baja California.

-This beach now belongs to the gringos. -[woman] Amazing!

Let them buy all of Mexico. We will be better off.

[man] I had no idea that people in my own family were so unpatriotic.

[woman] Imagine what it would be like…

[ballad continues playing]

-[chuckles] -What?

You seem famished.

The fruit tastes like fruit here.

How are you?

Fine.

Mom wants to go to the beach. She says it's a way off.

-She wants to get there before sundown. -We'll leave soon.

But tell me, how are things?

-What things? -How's everything in Boston?

-You still with Mark? -Yeah.

Hmm? You don't sound convinced.

-It's not that. -Hmm.

-Everything's fine with Mark. -Ah.

Not everything. I mean, it never is, but…

I hadn't thought about Mark until you said his name.

Well then?

I don't know.

It's weird being here.

Where? On the beach?

In Mexico.

I don't get it.

You do.

Why? Your cousins are here, your aunts and uncles…

-Exactly. -Exactly what?

[shakily] It's everything that never was. And seeing them reminds me of that.

Everything that wasn't.

Yeah. Including Mateo.

Mateo's not the only one in Bardo, Pa. Sometimes I feel like we're all with him.

Camila, your family will always be here. Your home's here, your grandparents--

Dad, stop, I am fine. I am just sad!

And that's okay. Feeling sad is good for you sometimes.

But you always want to fix things, explain them away.

Some things just are what they are.

My lease is up next month.

[Silverio] Mm?

-I was thinking of coming back to Mexico. -[Silverio] Why?

-[Camila] To live here. -[Silverio] What about your job in Boston?

[Camila] The job's fine, but I can't grow there anymore.

I am tired of eating a salad on a plastic tray alone at my desk.

[Silverio] What will you do in Mexico?

[Camila] I don't know.

[Silverio] I like the idea,

but you'll have to get used to being way more careful.

[Camila] My friends live here, and nothing's ever happened to them.

[Silverio] Because they live in a gated community

with guards all around,

and drivers take them everywhere.

Are you up for that? I'm not.

[Camila] At least they don't live in a pasteurized reality like us.

A pasteurized reality where you can walk around at night or take public transit.

You've never used public transportation.

-I use it. -Come on.

Where's the Santa Monica train stop?

Between Ocean and Venice.

[laughs, in English] Wrong.

[imitates buzzer, in Spanish] How much is a ticket?

-I don't know. -Of course you don't.

We're grown-ups, Pa.

We're free to choose where to live.

Okay?

Camila, you know I'm here for anything.

But you can't ask me not to want the best for you.

[Lucía] Get a move on. It's getting late.

[Camila] Sometimes what's best for you isn't what's best for us.

Let's go before Mama chews us out.

[sweeping orchestral music playing]

[orchestral music building]

[gentle music continues]

[gulls calling]

[plane engine roaring overhead]

[orchestral music fades]

[chime rings on PA]

[Lorenzo sighs]

How's that going?

[clears throat] It's going.

Hey, tell me if you want to invite Jon and Stephen.

[Lorenzo] Pa…

-[Silverio] Hmm? -Remember Paco?

[Silverio] Who?

Paco, Guido, and Ernesto.

-My axolotls. When we lived in Mexico. -Yeah, sure.

[in English] Well, when I was a kid and we moved to LA, I brought them with us

'cause I left all my friends in Mexico.

So I decided to hide Paco, Guido, and Ernesto in a suitcase

with a plastic bag and water.

I didn't tell anyone.

And when we arrived to the new house,

the first thing I did was open the suitcase.

It was soaking wet, and the plastic bag was open,

and my friends were lost in the clothes.

And they didn't move, so I decided to throw them in the toilet

to see if they could swim.

And they sank. [scoffs]

So I realized they were dead, and I hid 'em in a shoebox under my bed.

After a few days, it started to smell, so I put 'em in the freezer.

And, yeah, I remember Mom was cooking some fish for dinner,

and I didn't even want to touch my food 'cause I was freaking out,

convinced that we were eating my friends.

[both chuckle]

[Silverio sighs]

[in Spanish] What is it?

I never knew any of that. Why didn't you tell me?

I think you were gone.

You were in Morocco doing something.

Or maybe you were home.

I don't know.

Doesn't matter.

[dog whining]

[continues whimpering]

[man on PA, in English] If you find a bomb lying around the airport premises,

please bring it to the nearest information booth.

Thank you for your consideration.

[woman on PA] Please refrain from turning left.

[announcements continue indistinctly]

Hello, sir.

Please remove your glasses, sir.

-What is the purpose of your trip? -We live here.

No, you don't live here.

Fingerprints.

Oh, yes. We do live here.

I'm a journalist, and this is my home.

This is not your home, sir.

You have an O-1 visa. Please look at the camera.

Yeah, I have an O-1 visa because I work here and I pay taxes here.

-So I think I can call this place my home. -Fingerprints.

No, sir, you cannot call this place your home.

[in Spanish] If you look me in the face, you might recognize me--

-[in English] We speak English. -[in Spanish] Dad.

[in English] What's your name?

-Excuse me? -Your name.

[in Spanish] Drop it.

-[in English] Remove your arm, sir. -I want to talk to your supervisor.

That will not be necessary.

[Silverio] Oh, "That will not be necessary."

You can go now.

Next.

[quietly] Asshole. Come on.

Let's go.

[whistle blowing]

Excuse me?

-Are you a supervisor? -Yes, I am.

That officer was very rude to me.

I've been living here for 15 years,

and he says I have not the right to call this my home.

It was very upsetting.

-What is your status here, sir? -I have an O-1 visa.

Then yes, you can call this your home.

Well, if he's the face of this nation, then you should do something.

It was very humiliating.

I'm sorry about this, sir. I'll take care of it.

[indistinct chatter]

[in Spanish] The bastard should apologize.

[in English] This man is upset.

-He said you humiliated him. -In no way was I disrespectful.

-He was aggressive. -No, I need him to give us an apology.

-Sir, I'll take care of it. -No, I need an apology.

[in Spanish] What's up? Drop it.

[in English] No, I need this guy to say this is our home.

-This is not your home, sir. -What did you say?

-[in Spanish] Those are the rules. -What rules?

[in English] This person has an O-1 visa, and his family, an O-3.

They're allowed to call this home.

-You hear that? -Please apologize to them.

No, this is not their home. They're not Americans.

[in Spanish] What are you? Mexican, Chinese, fucking Swedish?

-[in English] Sir. -I grew up here. Went to school here.

-This is our home, you like it or not. -Please control your son.

[in Spanish] No!

[in English] He should shut up and be respectful.

I'm tired of this bullshit since I was a kid in this country.

Okay, if you want to call this place your home, so be it.

Hey, look us in the eye.

-You can't talk to him like that. -[in Spanish] You speak Spanish?

-You look more Mexican than I do. -[in English] Don't understand.

[in Spanish] Are you afraid they'll realize you're Mexican?

[in English] I'm American.

America is a continent, asshole. We're all Americans too.

[in Spanish] They stole our name.

-[in English] He understands. -He hasn't apologized.

-Just fucking apologize. -Say you're sorry.

-[Lorenzo] Say you are sorry. -[Silverio] Say you are sorry.

[Silverio and Lorenzo grunting]

-Say you are sorry! -[Lorenzo] Don't touch me!

-Come on! -[Lorenzo] Don't touch me!

Say it!

[jaunty polka tune playing]

[Lorenzo and Silverio shouting]

[Silverio] Say you're sorry! Say it!

-[Lorenzo shouts in Spanish] -[Camila] Lorenzo!

[Silverio shouts]

[Camila] Papá!

-[music stops abruptly] -[gentle breeze blowing]

[driver] This is a really nice home you guys have.

[Silverio] Thank you.

[driver] Oh, you're very welcome. Thank you. Have a good day.

[Camila, in Spanish] Lorenzo, move your suitcase!

[Lorenzo] Okay, I'll do it.

[Lucía sighs]

[Lucía and Silverio exhale]

[Lucía groans]

[sighs deeply]

[Silverio] I'm gonna take a walk. I still have a headache.

[Lucía] Come here. Lie down for a bit.

See if you can change the old walrus look on your face.

You can't go to the awards ceremony looking like that.

[wind chimes playing]

[man, in English] They would have you believe

that Jesus Christ was a white man.

That's a lie.

Jesus wasn't no white man. Jesus was a brown man!

And in fact, truth be told, he was Palestinian.

Hey!

[shouting indistinctly]

You believe in God, right?

You got faith, right?

[man continues shouting outside]

[calming chimes playing]

Oh. Excuse me? Excuse me, sir?

[chime dings]

[announcer on PA] Welcome aboard the Metro Expo Line.

This train's final destination is

Downtown Santa Monica station.

[chime dings]

[announcer on PA] The next stop is Expo Park/USC station.

[chuckles softly]

[passengers gasp, laughing]

[indistinct chatter]

[announcer on PA] Now arriving.

Exit here for… California Science Center, Natural History Museum.

[in Spanish] No, leave them alone.

[teen] Leave me alone, Grandma.

[passengers murmuring and laughing]

[guy, in English] Go, go. Dude.

[door alert beeps]

[announcer on PA] Please stand clear. The doors are closing.

[Silverio breathing shakily]

[unsettling music playing]

[crickets chirping]

[train rattling on tracks]

[chime dings]

[announcer on PA] Now arriving, 7th Street/Metro Center in Downtown LA.

As far as this train goes.

[distorted] Please check…

[announcement continues, distorted]

[door alert beeps]

[under breath, in Spanish] Shit.

[in English] Sir…

[sighs]

[announcer on PA] Please check you have all of your personal belongings.

[Refugio] You okay?

[announcer on PA] Hold on until the doors have opened.

[door alert beeps]

Sir?

[in Spanish] Are you okay, mister?

Do you need help?

-[in English] Can I help you, sir? -[Silverio shudders]

[in Spanish] I don't understand.

[Silverio mumbling]

[in English] I don't understand you, sir.

Sir?

[breathing shakily, speaks indistinctly]

[in Spanish] I don't understand you.

[groans]

[shuddering]

[Refugio, in English] Juan! Juan!

911?

[wind rushing]

[Lucía exhales]

[chime rings]

[crowd cheering and applauding]

[Camila] Good evening.

I'm proud to be here tonight,

representing my father and our whole family.

The last few days have been the saddest of my life,

but today I choose to be proud and happy.

I'm going to read you my father's speech.

He carried it with him. [sniffles]

"Dear colleagues of the American Society of Journalists…"

That's all.

[all chuckle]

[Camila] My father isn't big on being in the spotlight.

One might say he suffered the stroke to avoid coming to the ceremony.

[audience laughs]

[Camila] He's probably in his coma laughing at us.

[audience chuckles]

Silverio Gama loves California.

[rustling]

He chose to live here the last 20 years of his life.

-And he chose to raise us here. -[tools clanging]

[Silverio grunts]

So I'm sure he's proud this country he got used to calling home

is giving him such a prestigious award.

-[Silverio screams inaudibly] -[woman inhales sharply]

He also missed Mexico every day of his life.

Before watching the video his colleague and friend, Martín Solís,

edited for us tonight,

I would like to ask all of you

to please give a huge round of applause

to my father, this year's honoree,

Silverio Gama.

[Camila applauding]

[crowd applauding inaudibly]

[clapping loudly]

Come on, louder!

[crowd continues clapping inaudibly]

[Camila] Louder!

-[Silverio speaking inaudibly] -[loud beeping]

[machine hissing]

[labored breathing]

[Lorenzo, in Spanish] Is that normal?

-[Camila] What? -[Lorenzo] That sound. Is it normal?

[doctor] Yes, it's normal.

[Hortensia] The sheets are soaked.

-He's wet. -[monitor continues beeping]

[Lorenzo] Maybe the bag was full. I think they forgot to change it.

[doctor] I'll call the nurse.

[Martín] Do you see any improvement, Doctor?

[doctor] No. All we can do is wait.

There's a major hemorrhage in one lobe.

-This could take a long time. -How long?

[doctor sighs] I don't know.

Do you think he's here with us?

Can he hear us?

[doctor] Sure, he's here.

But at the same time, he's not.

A coma is basically a mystery, Camila.

What's he doing with his eyes?

It's a reflex.

It feels like he's squeezing when I take his hand.

Yesterday we put on some music

and some recordings from when we were kids,

and he cried a little.

[Lucía] Silverio…

Can you hear me?

Where are you?

I feel you can hear me.

[Lorenzo, in English] Have you seen the remote?

[Camila] No.

…the main subject in discussion, off-the-record, the revolutionary sale.

Moving down the…

[presenter 1, in Spanish] No one lifted a finger to help him.

At the train's last stop, he was the last passenger.

[presenter 2] A cleaning lady found him.

A compatriot of ours, Ms. Refugio Domínguez.

Hello, Refugio.

-[Refugio] Hi. -[presenter 2] We caught up with her.

We'll have the pleasure of speaking with her.

[presenter 3] Thanks for joining us. Tell us what happened.

[Refugio] I went in to clean the car, as usual, and saw it wasn't empty.

I thought the guy might be a drunk because that's common here.

-But then I saw the fish on the floor. -[interview continues indistinctly]

[Lucía kisses]

Silverio…

[whispering] Silverio…

How are you feeling?

You seem tired.

Peaceful.

Tranquil.

What the fuck was my dad doing on the Santa Monica train?

-He wanted to feel more Mexican. -[group laughs]

But with all those Mexicans around, his head exploded.

[all chuckle]

[Martín] You're such an asshole.

Something weird happened a few days ago in our bedroom in Los Angeles.

I was sleeping on my stomach,

and something grabbed my feet and started pulling.

It jerked me upward. There was nothing I could do.

The dream was so real.

And I'm sure it happened right when Silverio had his stroke.

-[Camila sighs] -[Lucía chuckles]

[crying softly]

[sister] Thanks for bringing him to Mexico.

[rhythmic knocking on door]

[Camila exhales shakily]

[rhythmic knocking continues]

[Silverio breathing shakily]

[brass and percussion band playing nostalgic melody]

[Silverio gasps softly]

[group clamoring in distance]

[tempo of nostalgic melody slows]

[song ends]

[Silverio breathing heavily]

[wind whistling]

[wheels squeaking]

[man whistling wistful tune]

[Silverio] Hey, Pa!

Hey, Pa! What's the name of that song?

I don't remember the name, but I love it. [chuckles]

You always do the same thing.

You take something away, then you don't remember.

But Ma, you always danced to that song with Papa.

Son, your father was a drag.

He never liked dancing, and it's my favorite thing in the world.

[in English] Tough men don't dance. [laughs]

[in Spanish] I was comfortable at home watching TV,

and look where you've taken me.

All I wanted was to see the end of the movie.

Okay, Ma, but can someone tell me the name of that song?

What are you talking about?

Brother, do you remember the name of that song

Papa whistled to us when we were kids?

Where did you bring us, brother?

He never even whistled me a ranchera.

Don't leave again, darky.

Come back.

You're leaving without putting me in one of your movies.

Not even as one of those extras.

[wistful tune playing]

[man] Keep going!

[men grunting]

-[Silverio] Where are you coming from? -From the North!

From hell, but they don't even know they're living in hell.

[Silverio] Where are you taking him?

[man] To the South. We'll use this piece to resuscitate him.

He will rebuild himself completely.

Let the whole world look to the south!

[Silverio] How do you know it's in that direction?

[tune ends suddenly]

[crow cawing]

[birds calling]

[nostalgic melody playing]

[Lorenzo, echoing] Pa!

[Silverio] Lorenzo!

You need to go the other way!

[Camila] No, Pa!

We're going with you!

[Silverio] Turn around!

There's nothing here for you!

[Lorenzo] And you?

[Silverio] I'll see you when I'm back!

[Lucía] When might that be?

When?

[Camila, echoing] Papá!

[nostalgic melody continues]

[nostalgic melody fades]

[Silverio gasps]

[wind whistling]

[Silverio exhales deeply]

[somber orchestral music playing]

[jaunty tune playing]

[jaunty tune fades]

[mournful orchestral music playing]

[mournful orchestral music fades]

[marching band playing wistful tune]

[marching band fades out]

[somber orchestral music playing]

[chime rings]

[man whistling wistful tune]

[crash cymbals playing]

[brass and percussion instruments warming up]

[whistling fades]