All language subtitles for Paint.It.Black.2016

- I hate whoever this is.

- Well, that's not very polite.

- I almost
recognize your voice.

What's your name again?

- Mrs. put this in your mouth?

- Ha-ha, funny.

You calling to invite me
to your son's soccer game?

- Yes, it's, um--

it's on Saturday

at fuck off field.
- Ha.

- Um, they're playing against
the judgmental dykes.

- Will hubby, whatever you want
to call him, be there?

- Mm, no, Michael's out of town.

- Ha!
Of course.

That's why you fucking call.

You don't call
for four months, puta,

and now you need a warm body
to fill the void.

- Pen, pen--
- fucking asshole.

- I know, but it's, like,
it's not like that.

I promise, okay?

- Yeah, right.
Typical.

- I was also, um,

wondering if you had any pot?

- Sellout!

- One week.

One week
he doesn't call me.

What the fuck is that?

It's like, how long does it take
to fucking get settled?

He's, like, at his fucking mom's
house, you know what I mean?

- Maybe the bitch
won't let him call.

You said she
fucking hates you, right?

- Yeah, for sure.

- I'm sure she's anxious to see

you and fucking Harvard
get married.

Ready?
We'll race.

- Fuck that.
- Hold up.

- Here, I'll use your bungees.

- What?

- Wait, hang on.
- Okay.

- Pull me up.

Pull me up.
You're not strong enough.

Pull me up!
- Pull me up.

Pull me up.

- Come on.

- Ow!
Shit.

Where the fuck have you been?

- Good morning.
My name's detective Brooks.

I'm sorry to bother you
so early in the morning.

- Who?

- Uh, detective Jonathan Brooks

from San Bernardino county.

To whom am I speaking?

- Uh, Josie.

Uh, Josephine Tyrell.

What happened?

- Miss Tyrell,
your phone number was found

on a motel registration.

We're just trying to
gather some information.

Has there been
any individual that you know

that's been missing recently?

- I don't--mm--

I don't--i don't--what--
what do you mean "missing"?

What's going on?

- Well, we've got a white male

registered as, uh, Oscar wilde.

Miss Tyrell,

uh, do you have any idea
who this person might be?

- Uh,

maybe, um.

I don't think so.

- The individual
we're trying to identify

is in his mid-20s,

tattoo on his right wrist,

two moles on
the right side of his chest.

Miss Tyrell,
do you know this person?

Miss Tyrell?

Do you know this person?

- Yes.

- Miss Tyrell, I'm very sorry
to have to inform you.

The body was found
in a motel in 29 palms

from what looks like
an apparent suicide,

self-inflicted gunshot
wound to the head.

We're still getting
all the details.

We're trying to locate
any family members.

Do you know if he has
any living relatives?

- A mother.

A mother.

A mother.
A mother.

A mother.
A mother.

A mother.

A mother.

A mother.

A mother.

A mother. A mother.

A mother.
A mother.

A mother.

A mother.
A mother.

A mother.
A mother.

A mother.
A mother.

- Hey, excuse me.

Look, just because
you saw me naked

does not mean
I'm gonna fuck you, okay?

- Uh, no, no,
i didn't think that.

I wouldn't think--
i, uh,

I just thought maybe
you wanted to

maybe go for a swim?

- Do you have a pool?

- Sort of.

- There is a pool, I promise.

- Yeah, I hope so.

Whoa.

That's a pool.

- That's a pool, yeah.

You said you wanted
to go swimming, right?

- Uh, it's kind of, like,
the middle of the afternoon.

She could come back, like,
any second, right?

- Oh, no, no, trust me.

She's away, touring.

Besides,
she's terrified of water.

I don't think I ever saw
her come in here once.

- Hmm.

- So, what do you think,
you gonna

give it a shot, jump in?

- Yeah, it's just--

such a shame, you know,
a waste, really, because...

- Mm-hmm.
- I already have dysentery, so.

- Oh, really?
- Yeah.

- Right, right.

- You afraid?

- Yeah.
Yeah, I'm super chicken.

Yeah, you just, like,
struck fear in me, bro.

Oh, my.

- Well?

- Uh,

yeah, I can't swim.

- What?

- No.
Yeah, see, I'm not--

I'm not sportif.

- Sportif?
- Yeah.

- What the fuck
does "sportif" mean?

- Hmm.

Are you a tree?

- No.

- I promise, no, no, I'm not.

- You are.
- Yes, I'm a tree.

- You are, huh?

- Mm-hmm.

- Who are you?

- Oscar wilde.

And I'm wild for you.

It doesn't make
any fucking sense.

- Whatever happened,
whatever this is,

we're gonna get
through it, okay?

- Just go
make me a drink, okay?

- What kind of drink?

- Alcohol.

- Fuck.

- Hello?

- Who is this?

- If my son had never met you,

would he have killed himself?

Hmm?

- You don't even
know me, Meredith--

- I could have you
taken care of, you know.

One phone call,

five grand,

it would be very easy.

- I hope that makes
you feel better.

- I don't want to feel better.

I want you to suffer
the way I'm suffering now!

Then you didn't have to call!

- How dare you?

How dare you?

- Meredith.
- How dare you!

- Meredith.

- How dare you?

Go on!
Get away!

How dare you?

- Stop, Meredith, stop.

- Meredith--

- you know, she only saves
those sorts of greetings

for the special few.

Cal Faraday,

Michael's father.

It's not your fault, you know.

Michael had issues you-you
can't even begin imagine.

- Your wife is

fucking insane.

My ex-wife.

- Mm.

- Not surprised she hates you.

See, you don't know how things
used to be with her and Michael.

It was just the two of them

in their own little world.

No intruders welcome.

Back then,
i was the interloper.

Yeah.
My own son.

But recently,

he started
calling again.

Quite a lot, actually.

Told me all about you
in those calls.

- Really?

- He loved you, Josie.

Thought you were smart,

original,

very real.

He said your--your dad
drives a tow truck?

- Yeah.

Yes.

- Is there a mother
in the picture?

My dad was a--was a fisherman

out of coos bay, Oregon.

- Is this what
Michael thought of me?

Some kind of novelty?

"Real"?

That's another word
for "poor," right?

- No.

"Real" means real.

He loved you.

- Yeah.

Right.

- I got you.

- He left this for you.

- Hello?

- Get dressed.

- How the fuck
did you get my keys?

- I took them when you were
passed out in your own piss.

Get up and get it together.
People are coming over.

- What?

What people?

- Your friends.

Remember them?

They're the people who help you
get through shit like this.

- And I was always
afraid of death

until, um,
my grandfather passed.

He was a big country music fan,
and he, you know, was--

we always used to
sing songs together.

When he actually died,
we all stood around the bed

holding hands, singing to him.

There was this
thing when he actually passed...

- Hi.

- So many friends.

Such good friends.

"We're sorry.
We're--

"oh--oh, we're so sorry.

We're so sorry for your loss."

And then they go out and

have their
teeth cleaned...

And eat dinner.

- Do you live here alone?

- No, I have ghosts
that keep me company.

- You know, i--i could
hear you playing

from all the way
down the street.

- It's brahms.

Whenever Michael had a headache,

he always had
to have his brahms.

- He played me brahms.

- And I played it for him,

of course.

- You were following me,
weren't you?

- Well, i--

I was worried about Michael.

I hadn't heard from him
in a little while,

but I never thought that--

world's greatest pianist.

Help yourself.

I heard that you
had drinks with the father.

I'll assume he said
many horrible things about me.

There w--the base--

the--the baseball,
did he tell you?

No?

We were in New York
for a--a recital.

And Cal and I were
long since divorced,

but he had
one of those townhouses

down on bank street.

Between marriages,
as I recall,

briefly, of course.

Anyway,

he always kept this baseball
on his desk.

It was signed by
all those famous players,

you know, babe Ruth and so on.

He fondled it while he wrote.

Talk about freudian.

Anyway, we were up there
discussing Michael's future.

And he got it into his head

to throw the ball at Michael.

"Come on!
Think fast!"

You know, m--mean,

you know--like a common
schoolyard bully.

That's--that's

the Jewish Hemingway for you.

But you know what Michael did?

He picked up the ball,

and he threw it

out of the window.

I mean, talk about babe Ruth.

You know, it was rolling down

the gutter on bank street.

It was fantastic.

I guess this is what they call
a ten-second rule.

Josie?

Por favor?

You can relax.

You've already made it
into the lion's stomach.

You don't have to worry
about its bite.

- What do you want to drink?

- Alcohol.

Thank you.

Would you--would you--

put another log on the fire?

Could you do another one?

I'm freezing.

Gently, gently.

And then just
open a little gap,

about--about an inch
so it'll draw.

Josie, you can't drive
in your condition.

- I can't live
in my condition.

Ow.

- Hey.

"I am not sportif."

- What are you doing?

You have no right to go
through his things,

not without my permission.

- I'm sorry.

- You can see your own way out.

- Here you go.

- Sorry I'm late.

- It's okay.
- Had to stop at the bank.

So.

Listen.

It's a thriller.

It's very psychological.

Sort of antonioni
meets bu�uel.

A story of lovers
caught in purgatory.

It's called "in pergatoria."

- Listen--
- you must be in it.

I wrote it for you.

- Jeremy, okay,

just need one minute

of silence to eat,

okay?

Friday, 5:00 A.M.

Nod yes, and I leave.

Nod yes...

And I leave.

- Hi.
- Jesus.

What are you doing here?

- I heard you needed
a model, right?

- Yeah, but...
- Yeah.

- Not you, Josie.

- Why?
- 'Cause--

I'd heard about--

and I'm so sorry.

- It's--yeah--
- I'm s--

- fine.
- I'm so--you shouldn't be here.

- I mean...
- - What?

- Josie, the way you're in--
and you should be home.

- No.
No-no-no-no-no-no-no.

Please, I don't want to go home.
- Seriously, you gotta be--

take care.
- I don't want to--li--

that's the last place

I should be right now, okay?

So please, Phil?

- Please.
Okay?

- O--okay.
- Please--yes?

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Oh, my gosh.

It's actually not that boring.
- Hmm.

Bach believed
the world made sense.

He believed in god.

Now--
listen to brahms.

Let me play you some of him.

- How did you find me here?

- I just wanted to apologize

for the way
i spoke to you this morning.

It wasn't right.

It's just--it's--
everything's just--

you know.

But I could buy you lunch.

- Not hungry.

- Drink?

I know you're
as hungover as I am.

Hair of the dog, for Michael?

Thank you.

- Thanks.

So

did you ever take Michael
to lunches like these?

- Uh,

when he was a little boy, yes.

But later on
he couldn't bear it,

too many fat cats.

I bet he never once took you
to a decent restaurant.

- Mm.

No.

- We mainly just ate at home.

You poor thing.

Michael couldn't boil water.

- Michael was a great cook,

actually.

He had all these cookbooks.

We even had this little garden
with, like, herbs and stuff.

Once he cooked a whole fish

from the Chinese market,

with the head and the tail
still on.

- Mm.

- We even ate the eyeballs.

And the cheeks.

That's the delicacy.

- Do you think it's awful that I

didn't know my own son
any better?

- I--

I don't think

anybody knows everything
about somebody.

- Excuse me.

You're Meredith loewy,
aren't you?

- Yes.

- I saw you
in San Francisco last year.

You were amazing.
- Oh, thank you.

Thank you so much.
That's very kind.

- Are you planning on
being on tour anytime soon?

- Uh, yes, very soon, in fact.

- I look forward to it.

I was very sorry
to hear about your son.

- Thank you.

- Must be nice,

people respecting you like that.

- Yes, it would appear
that way to you, wouldn't it?

- So do you date?

- Date?

- Dating, to date somebody?

I mean, that guy was pretty hot.

- That's a little juvenile,
don't you think?

- So I guess not?

- Well, I'm--I'm not celibate.

- Michael thought you were.

- I didn't wave my relationships
under his nose.

I once had an affair
with a Czech violinist.

He was impossible.

Should I have forced
my sex life on him?

Would that have
been less oedipal?

More?

I don't know.

I was all he had.

Josie, I'd like to
ask you a favor.

I'd like to see
where Michael lived.

He's gone.
I just want to see.

- Yeah, that--

that's why you're
being so nice to me...

- Josie...
- Right?

- People say things
when they're upset.

- Do.

I think you meant to say,

people do things
when they're upset.

Well.

You remind me of Michael.

Very pigheaded.

Oh, come on.

I'm just asking to see it,
for Christ sake.

I'm not asking to move in.

Hmm?

- You could, uh,

take your coat off
if you want.

- He was always so gifted
with portraiture.

Hmm.

We loved this.

May I have this?

- This isn't a shopping trip.

Hey, hey.

Those are
his private journals.

- They're just
artifacts now, Josie--

- please.

- It's your house.

"Se�or music"?

- Um, yeah, Michael
used to play piano

for, like, kids' dance classes,

so they called him
se�or music.

- Michael?

Michael abhorred children.

- He didn't hate children.

We even talked
about having a baby.

- Well, thank god
for small mercies.

- Cut.

Kay, I need my viewfinder.

- It's lighter,
it's lighter Freud.

Emotionally, it's

relatively a joke.

This, this one here.
Mm-hmm.

- Hello?

- It's Josie.

- Josie?

Josie, it's--it's late.

- You said to call
if I ever needed you,

and I fucking need you, Cal.

Meredith.

Meredith,

she took everything.

- I don't have anyone
to call.

- No one.

Please, Cal, please,

would you call her for me?

Okay, please?

- Look, th-there's
nothing I can do.

And even if I called her,
she wouldn't listen to me.

Josie, look,
it's the middle of the night.

Let's talk in the morning,
and I'll try to help, okay?

- Yeah.

Oh, yeah, yeah, totally.

Yeah, you get some sleep, okay?

You get some good
fucking sleep, okay?

- Yes?

Ms. loewy is sleeping.

Oh, no, no.
All concerts are canceled.

Mm-hmm.

Thank you.

I fucked him in this bed,
Meredith.

Your bed.

Bitch.

- We have a dress
for you already.

- No.

This is the dress.

- But, uh...
- Jeremy.

I haven't slept
in two days.

- Okay.
- Please, respect my process.

Hey, what's up?

You're gonna have to do better
than that, Meredith!

You're gonna have
to fucking kill me!

Guy's following me and
now he's at my fucking house.

- Josie, don't be crazy.

You know she's not
gonna take a hit out on you.

Jo-Josie,
I'm coming to you.

Where are you?
Tell me right now.

- No, I'm sorry, I got to go.
I got to go.

- Look, Josie--

- oh.

Loewy residence.

- It's Josie Tyrell.

- Thank you, Margaret.

What do you want, Josie?

- What happened, Meredith?

Did your foot slip off
the gas pedal?

Couldn't follow through, huh?

And now the guy with the flattop

in the fucking car?

- Your imagination
is running away with you, child.

- Listen, Meredith,

I told people

about this, okay?

So if I disappear,

they'll know.

- Good-bye, Josie.

- No, wait!
Wait-wait-wait, wait.

Shh.
Shh-shh-shh-shh-shh.

Josie.

Josie, listen, let's ju--
let's just

call a truce, okay?

We're even.

How much more can
we possibly hurt each other?

I can't take any more.
Can you?

Huh?

Josie, I shouldn't have
taken your things.

I took it too far.

- I just want his--

I just want
his journals back.

Please?

- Just tell me where you are,

and I'll come to you.

I'll bring you the journals.

Tell me where you are,
and I'll bring them to you.

- Where are the rest of them?

- Stolis all around, ladies?

- What do you want from me?

- Did Michael ever tell you

what happened to me
when I was your age?

I had been working
with Rudolf serkin

at Curtis,
just before he died.

- Who?

- Um, he-he was
a very great pianist,

one of the greatest
of his time.

And he was performing
at carnegie hall

with the Philadelphia orchestra,

brahms' second.

But he got sick,
i don't remember with what.

And he recommended me

to ormandy to replace him.

I was 21.

One day's notice.

The brahms' second.

I--it's a--
it's a monster concerto.

It's a huge responsibility.

One day's notice.

It was like one of
those old movies, you know,

where the star breaks her ankle

and the girl
gets her big chance.

I was so nervous.
Oh.

I threw up before the concert.

But when I went out there...

Something else

took over.

It was--it was like

being lifted up on wings.

Harold schonberg
called me a goddess.

Hurok signed me
the following morning.

Within a week,
he'd organized a tour.

It was like being in
the nose cone of a rocket,

the--the momentum, you know,
how fast it all came.

It was...

Incredible.

Everything I'd worked for

since I was four years old.

My father drowned himself
in our pool a week later.

Couldn't even wait
till I got home.

He always had to be the star.

I didn't go
to the funeral.

I--i just--i toured.
I stayed in hotels.

I was playing with all
of the great orchestras,

and I couldn't stand to be
by myself in a room.

And then I met Calvin,

thought I could put all of that
loneliness behind me.

- Yeah, good luck with that.

Josie...

I know you loved him,

like I did,

and I know you've lost,

like I have.

Would you consider

coming to stay with me
for a little while?

I'm so tired
of being alone.

I--

I can't do it anymore.

I ju--i--i can't.

I just--i can't, i--

I'll give you
the rest of them.

Please?

I'll give you
everything I have.

- Wait, there!

Oh, my god...

Oh, fuck, it's still breathing.

Michael!

What's wrong with you?
Michael, what do we do?

Michael!

Why do I have to
do fucking everything?

It's all my fault.

All my fault.

I was so mean to him.

- May I help you?

- Are you fucking shitting me?

I'm over here all worried
about you and shit,

and I find you here like this,
a little fucking Princess?

- I'm very sick, pen.

Meredith is
taking care of me now.

- Are you hearing yourself?

Jesus.

You saw her that night,
and suddenly you're sick?

Don't you think
that's a little suspicious?

What if she's, like,
poisoning you or some shit?

- I don't really care if she is.

I'm so tired of my life.

- Don't say that.

You're depressed, okay?

You're depressed,

but this fucking house?
Shit.

It's a fucking creep factory.

- Guess what?

I like being in this house.

It makes me feel closer to him.

It smells like him.

- He's dead, Josephine.

He's dead.

- Hey, it's pen.
You know what to do--

- go to your broken heart.

If you think
you don't have one, get one.

To get one, be Sincere.

Learn sincerity of intent...
- Learn sincerity of...

- By letting life enter...
- By letting life enter--

what is this?
- Shh.

Because you're helpless,
really, to do otherwise.

Poem by Jack hirschman.
- This is the guy that--

- after the beep, leave a
message for Josie or Michael.

- Michael, that is terrible!

- It's interesting, isn't it,
that he said,

"Josie or Michael."

Didn't say,
"Josie and Michael."

Josie, think of how
you will feel one day

when you have a--
a screaming child on your hip

and you look at out
the laundry in your yard

and you think,

"i could have had
a different life."

I'm offering you that life,
Josie.

All I want in return

is you.

- Hello?

- May I help you?

- Yes, I would like a room.

- How many nights?

- I'm not sure yet.

- Long day driving?

- Yeah.

- Mm, these roads
are hazardous at night.

Those white lines
become hypnotizers.

- About eight weeks ago, um,

a boy checked in here.

He registered
under the name Oscar wilde.

I'd like to know
how many nights he stayed.

I know he stayed here.

- Room nine is nice.

Gerta just cleaned it.

35 a night, cash only.

- Hi.

What's your name?

- Gerta.

- Gerta.

I'm Josie.

You want to
come outside for a second?

- Uh,

she locks everything at night.

- Can I ask you

about the boy who stayed here?

- To me, he is Oscar.

- Yeah, he liked
Oscar wilde a lot.

But, uh, his real name
was Michael.

- Michael.

He speak German,

like a viennese.

I--

I found him.

I--i--

I found him.

- I'm so sorry.

- After police go...
- I'm so sorry.

- Then I must clean.

She make me.

Room seven.

- Listen, um,

I don't really know
what's going on here,

but I'm leaving.

I don't know where exactly,

but I'm gonna start over.

- Come with me.

- Bitte.
Please.

I cannot.