Original subtitles

Enough!

Enough?

Are you seeing what I'm seeing?

The vase.

What a dumb goat!

Hurry to prayer.

Hurry to success.

You're not committed to prayer. Nor are you successful.

Truly a dumb goat!

Nasser.

RAVEN SONG

A FILM BY MOHAMED AL SALMAN

Are you asking me to interpret your dream?

No. I mean...

Wait!

Give me some time to think.

Nasser, do you remember when your brain fell and slapped you in the face?

Do you know why this message came to you?

Because you are not giving a doctor and a scientist like me

the chance to fix it for you.

You mean it's true that dreams have messages in them?

This is a question for artists and philosophers.

My dear, I'm an oncologist, not a dream interpreter.

Listen, Nasser, you are lucky,

because I am personally interested in the tumor in your brain.

This is such a rare case.

But you have to cooperate with me, because the clock is ticking.

Take your time.

You mentioned that you majored in engineering, right?

Yes.

That's impressive.

So listen, Mr. Engineer.

I didn't finish college, though.

What do you mean, you didn't finish?

I was a student at KFUPM. It's known to be the toughest university.

I still don't understand why you didn't finish.

I was expelled.

Nasser, you know what?

I'm starting to feel that there's a chemistry between us,

and your brain scan is now engraved in my mind.

That in itself is genius.

I'm talking about the tumor.

This tumor is genius

and stubborn.

It challenges us doctors by choosing a very sensitive spot.

Anyway, I'm glad we're finally in the same boat.

Thank you for trusting me and giving me the chance to defeat this cursed tumor.

But I've changed my mind. I don't want to do the surgery.

Why are you doing this to me?

Why do you keep changing your mind?

I still don't feel the tumor or any pain.

Because it's too early to feel it.

Nasser, with all due respect to you and your brain,

you don't know how to make a decision.

I need to speak to your family.

I'm not stupid!

How can I undergo a surgery that has a high risk of failure?

Even you said it's difficult.

It is indeed difficult.

Because the human brain is remarkably interconnected.

Science is but the philosophy of doubt.

Us scientists have our doubts. After the surgery you might be brain-dead.

You might lose memory, sense, speech, reading, writing.

You mean I'll be a dumb goat.

So what if I don't do the surgery? What will happen then?

You know what will happen.

For your information, I'm not giving you options.

It's up to you if want to postpone it a year or two.

But at the end of the day, surgery is the only option you have.

RIYADH - 2002

Oh, Raven, Raven

Oh, Raven, Raven

Oh, Raven

Why the long face, Raven?

What's wrong? You don't like the hotel job?

I do, but I'm still learning.

Learning? What's there to learn?

It's just giving keys and telling them to get lost.

What are you talking about?

Today they're leaving me in charge of the whole place, on my own.

You got this.

- Abu Sagr. - Huh?

What's the last dream you had?

I don't dream.

I removed the antenna. My mind is a black screen every night.

Okay, then. Is there something you wish to do before you die?

Raven! What's wrong with you? Are you okay?

Don't call me Raven!

- Abu Sagr! - Get it together!

That's what I want to do before I die.

I wanna choke you until your eyes pop out and fall on your feet.

Damn you!

Good! Be a man!

Come on. I need to go.

Come on! Need anything?

Give me a ride.

Come on, then. I have customers waiting.

What a child!

THE DOVE HOTEL

Welcome to the Dove Hotel.

Welcome to the Dove Hotel.

Sir!

Let him be.

I gave him his room key. He comes once a week,

and you will find a copy of his family ID in the drawer.

Okay?

He only stays for half an hour. He finishes his business and leaves.

So you feel like you can do this now?

Yeah, hopefully.

Good. The most important thing to my father is...

- The family ID. - Exactly.

I'll put in a good word when he asks about you. Don't worry.

- Send him my regards. - Will do.

What do you think?

Nice.

Good. If you need anything, ask Dulal.

Okay.

- Right. I forgot to tell you something. - What?

You know what? Never mind.

The most important thing to my father is that you say "Welcome to the Dove Hotel."

- Yeah, I know that. - Say it, then.

Welcome to the Dove Hotel.

Hello?

You're making us stay here without a TV! What kind of service is this?

Hello, ma'am. What's the room number?

Hello? Hello? Who's this?

Hello?

Hello?

Dulal!

Dulal!

Welcome to the Dove Ho...

Take your time.

Hello?

Fix the TV receiver or give us our money back!

Hello, ma'am. Room service will be there shortly.

- What room number, please? - Room 226.

Why aren't you doing your job?

- We'll be there shortly. - Seriously!

We'll be there.

- Don't play with people like that! - The worker's on the way.

- Got it? You have five minutes, or else... - Yes, goodbye.

Apologies.

No problem.

How may I assist you?

Is room 227 available?

227?

Room... 227.

Yes, it's here.

I mean, it's unoccupied.

May I see it?

Yes, you may.

Do you like it?

Yes. Just how I imagined.

I apologize for taking so much of your time.

No, it's fine. Take your time.

Do you have a pen?

Yeah.

Here you go.

Thank you.

Thank you so much. I really mean it.

Excuse me.

I seek forgiveness from God!

Dulal?

- Where have you been? - What was that girl doing here?

- She was just checking the room... - I don't wanna talk.

I'm fasting.

Hey, you!

Hurry up!

Hurry up, please. The old man is tired.

Welcome to the Dove Hotel.

Yes, sir. How many nights?

Room 227.

Excuse me?

Don't mind him. Indefinitely.

I want room 227.

Give him room 227.

Why?

None of your business! Just give him what he wants.

I need to see your ID.

Don't make the old man wait. Just give me the key, and I'll come back.

Who were those women?

I don't know.

Shall we go, sir? My friend, room 227.

TO THE RESIDENT OF THIS ROOM

A girl with blue eyes and wearing a white abaya?

- Were you dreaming? - I wish that's what I dreamt about.

A knockout, then?

Yeah, totally.

Funny how God works. He feeds the rambling goats.

She stole your heart?

No... I don't know.

You think so?

I knew you were a romantic guy.

When I saw her, I had this indescribable feeling.

I just want to see her again.

Get what I mean?

Yeah, I get it.

Fine. Listen, Raven.

If I could get her to be here with us at this very moment,

what would you say to her?

You'd stay silent like this?

I don't know. I don't even know her name.

Because you're a garbage man! You've never hooked up with a girl before!

By the way, she left a poetry book in the room.

That's it!

It's obvious!

You could write to her.

What would I write?

You know, like how we used to do in high school.

Love poems that would melt her heart.

Okay, listen.

Girls are easy to manipulate.

I know what kind of stuff the girl you saw likes.

Write her a song, and she'll come running to you.

- A song? - Yeah, a song.

You just write it, and I will sing it for you myself.

You'll return to singing?

I never stopped. Who said I stopped?

It's true I quit singing and repented for a change.

But it's just...

You see, when I used to sing, I had this problem.

I always wanted a poem written just for me to sing.

Yes. Just for me.

Hello.

Hi.

Your ID.

Keep it with you.

You don't recognize me?

- Not really. You do look familiar... - The oud master!

He used to have an oud.

Don't mind him.

Abu Sagr, the oud master and king of towing.

An igniter without ignition.

Nice to meet you.

Take this.

This is the contract with all the terms and conditions. Sign both sides.

Let's go.

Do you need a pen?

No, I have one.

Okay.

We're not playing anything.

Just talk to this guy.

So are you a banker?

No, damn them. I'm a journalist.

What's wrong with you?

It seems you're a decent person after all.

Thank you?

- What do you do, exactly? - You're asking what I do?

My work is easy, yet difficult.

I write news but with complete honesty and transparency without any ambiguity.

Have you heard the story of the Raven Killer?

Some colleagues of mine exploited this story and these rumors.

You talk a lot.

Show me the contract.

Why?

Give the contract to Nasser to tear apart.

I have something for you to do.

I think I'm kinda busy.

You do wanna go back home, right?

Move.

Are you ready?

Yeah, I'm ready.

Lying to him was unnecessary.

Raven, you're a poet now, and all poets are liars.

Pretend you're thinking, like this.

Now look to the right,

towards the horizon.

All right. Cheese!

All right. Cheese.

Get this one and this one.

Cheese?

Yeah, man. Cheese.

Abu Sagr.

- Are you done? - Yeah, done.

What?

We need to write a song for real if this guy's going to write about us.

Of course we will!

You just write a few verses and make us proud

so you can hook up with the knockout.

- You think so? - Of course I do.

If I write the song, how will she read it?

Raven, a birdie is never lost.

You just write and let me worry about the rest.

Excuse me? Are you done with my robe?

Yeah, yeah, we're done.

Listen, just put some pretty words together

and recite them to him so he can write a puff piece about you.

What shall I say?

Just say whatever. He'll know what to do.

By the way, I never listen to a poem without a melody.

So don't say anything until I walk away.

Go ahead.

I haven't written it down yet.

It's okay. Just say what you have now.

O queen of all suns.

O vast desert.

Okay, that should be enough.

Really?

Yeah, yeah. God bless.

I wanna ask you,

the poem you're writing, is it a modern poem

or a classical one, like the old Arabic poetry we know?

The poetry we know.

Excellent, excellent.

So, your name?

- Nasser. - Family name?

The family won't be happy about that.

Fine. Your father's name?

Saleh.

Nasser Saleh. This will be your stage name.

No, no.

Remove Saleh. Make it Raven.

Nasser the Raven.

Okay, that's your stage name. Stick to it.

All right. The article will be published this week.

But please ask your friend to let me go.

And please, my clothes. I need to get dressed.

- Hello? - May God forgive you!

I can't watch my shows.

- I watch them every... - Dulal!

How could you do this to me! Shame on you!

What do I get out of this now?

Yes?

No. I just heard some noise.

Welcome, then.

Come in.

No, it's fine.

It seems that you're afraid of death.

No.

No, I don't think you're one of them.

They're smarter than you.

Those who don't fear death have committed suicide and found peace.

Won't you ask me why?

Why?

Why, you ask!

Because nothing surprises them anymore.

They realized that all stories are the same.

All of them.

Even your story...

Nasser.

Did you go to college?

Yeah, I studied at KFUPM.

It's one of the toughest.

How strange. I also studied at KFUPM.

But it doesn't fit you.

In any case...

what I learned from the drama club in college

was way more than what I learned in lectures.

Hear me, you poor human beings.

I find you looking for salvation in the nick of time.

Although life might seem complete

by simply reading poetry, eating thyme and drinking tea...

you look like you didn't get a thing.

No. I think I understood.

It's better if you didn't get it.

Don't lie to yourself.

But I think I understood you.

All right, all right, then. I'm the one who didn't get it.

I heard someone crying.

Nasser, have you ever heard of the Raven Killer?

The rumor?

We don't know if it was just a rumor or real.

All we know is that it's a story,

like how everything is.

It's the story of a man.

A man, Nasser.

A man in a black abaya.

He goes after his victims in broad daylight.

He targets women.

Housewives, to be exact.

He doesn't target them for theft or rape,

but for murder and murder only.

Is there a practical reason for his weapon of choice?

Is there something wrong with his brain?

Or is it his way of serving justice beyond our understanding?

Or maybe he's helping us

by killing the dim-witted and sparing us some oxygen.

What does that have to do with the noise?

- What noise? - Your noise. I heard you cry.

Me? No.

I was just acting. Acting in a play.

Why did you ask for this room?

I like it, man.

All right. I'm busy right now,

and I have to perform the last play of my life.

It's been a pleasure, Mr. Nasser.

I didn't catch your name.

I'm a human being.

What's up with that wacko you have at the hotel?

Strange, isn't he?

I feel like something's wrong with him.

I feel there's something about that room.

By the way, how will you find the girl?

I'll bring her here if you want.

But did you write anything?

Yeah, I wrote a little bit.

What do you mean you wrote a little bit, Raven?

The guy is coming now to give it a melody.

Don't worry. It will work out.

Hey, look who it is. Look, they always go back to their carer.

She left a message.

- Who? - The girl.

- All you wanna talk about is her? - Of course. How else would I write?

So what did she leave? A poetry book? A message? What, exactly?

She left an envelope. It's a message inside a book.

Do you think I can open it?

Yeah. Why not? Maybe she's into you.

The important thing is to not quit on me.

I want you to write me a poem I can truly sing.

I swear to you, Raven,

I have a feeling that we're gonna blow up everywhere.

Get up. The guy is here. Get up.

- Well, hello, there. - Hi.

- Welcome, Abu Raghad. Welcome. - Hello.

- How are you? - I'm good.

- I see you gained some weight. - Oh, don't even mention it.

- Sorry I'm a bit late. - Nah, don't sweat it.

That's him, our guy, Nasser the Raven.

- He's the one writing the poem. - Hello. Nice to meet you.

Have a seat, have a seat.

So, are you guys ready to talk about the future?

I don't need to remind you.

You know I never listen to a poem without a melody.

That's great, but before we get into the melody,

let's talk about the future, because it's more important.

All right? Abu Sagr, look at Nasser's face.

What does it tell you? It says, "What do you mean, Abu Raghad?"

- You're a businessman, right? - Of course.

Then welcome to the Internet business.

It suits you well, Abu Sagr.

Your charisma and gravitas are totally unmatched.

- But... - Yeah?

What?

What does that have to do with the song?

I'll get to that. Don't rush it.

I can see a future in you too, but let me finish what I'm about to say.

- Abu Sagr, remember my stupid cousin? - The one with a big head?

Where is he vacationing?

In Miami, with the blondes and the redheads.

And he's scuba diving in that juicy flesh. All from this Internet thing.

It's very simple.

Pay me 2,000 and recruit two others.

Your money will multiply and procreate. And it's completely halal.

Raven, what do you think?

I think that's nice...

but let us talk about the song.

I tried to write something...

Abu Sagr, leave this traditional trade path you're trekking.

Leave this towing nonsense you're running.

Hey, man. Don't talk about my towing business.

Yeah. Enough clamoring.

Come on, man. Just work with me,

and you'll have a fleet of trucks instead of your orphan one.

I don't want a fleet, or any nonsense!

I want to record at your studio, like we used to do.

Honestly, Abu Sagr,

I want to tell you something, but don't get me wrong.

I decided to... repent.

Liar!

You want to fix your reputation just to get married.

Well, that's your opinion, and I respect it.

Have lunch with us?

No, no, I'm good. I'm good, brother.

I'll leave you to host people and lose your money.

All right. I'll see you guys later.

What a fat seal!

Come here for a few minutes

Let us dream of a fountain Glistening under the moonlight

Let us dream of a swing hung by the stars

A legend iterated by raindrops

Come here for a few minutes

Let us dream of a fountain Glistening under the moonlight

Let us dream of a swing hung by the stars

A legend iterated by raindrops

Hey, man.

Hey! Dude!

Sorry. How can I help?

The old man... Where is he?

Who?

Oh, right. Did you check his room?

Are you joking around?

I checked his room. He wouldn't answer me. Did he go out?

No. I don't know. I didn't see him.

Hey, call him.

Call him now.

He isn't answering.

Don't say a word. Listen to me.

Tell them that I left the hotel.

Tell them that I left two days ago, and you have no idea where I went.

I'm sorry, Abu Yasser, but you have to come down and deal with your daughters.

Do you have the key?

Nasser, what are you doing?

Dad, I need you to answer me. Why did you leave us after the funeral?

My dear, I love you, truly. But I don't want to see anyone right now.

Dad, cast out the devil and come back home with us.

Leave us alone.

Let's go.

Listen, I want you to check up on him every day.

Yeah, sure.

Come on. We're leaving.

Have a seat.

Humans are stupid.

No, not stupid, actually, but sick animals.

Ask me why.

Why?

Why, you ask?

Because they're experts at suffering.

They seek it willingly,

only to bleed from the same wound, the same story,

the same shit, and then cry over it.

Tell me, what did you see in their eyes?

Pity? Blame?

I didn't really focus.

You're so lucky, man.

Me?

Yeah, you.

I wish I was like you.

Well, not exactly like you.

But you seem at peace, you know what I mean?

Why don't you want to go back home?

I'm practicing solitude, if you know what that means.

Who died?

Yasser, my son.

I'd kicked him out of the house. I told you. Humans are stupid.

It's a painful thing.

But never mind.

It's a temporary sadness. It'll pass. I've been through it before.

Have you experienced such a thing, Nasser?

Experienced what?

Having someone die on you.

No, I don't think so.

Experience it before you die.

Would you like some tea?

Hold on. I want to give you something.

Nasser!

- What do you want? - Come. I want to talk to you.

Why don't you come to me, then?

Come here, quickly!

What do you want?

Mr. Nasser the Raven?

Yeah.

A pleasure to meet you.

Come with me.

Is there something wrong?

No, not at all. It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Nasser.

Hello, old friend.

Let me introduce you. This is Raven, the great Raven.

Welcome, Mr. Nasser, to the Rolling Reformists Club.

THE FARCE OF ALL THE MODERNISTS: WHERE DOES IT ALL LEAD TO?

Tea or coffee?

Whichever.

Well, we don't have any tea. Just coffee.

Dear friends and colleagues,

I'd like to start our first official meeting at our headquarters

by welcoming our guests, Mr. Abu Sagr...

Hi there.

...and Mr. Nasser the Raven.

We're truly happy to be here, and we'd like to thank you

for your continuous, overwhelming support.

Mr. Nasser, I was talking to Abu Sagr about the bravery you've showcased

in expressing your opinion on modernism.

Mr. Turki over there is looking forward to indulging

in your linguistic prowess in the promised poem,

or shall we say, the promised song.

The one which you promised to attack modernism and modernists through.

Mr. Nasser, without getting into lengthy introductions,

as you know, we've always been under your control.

You, the conservative traditionalists, would repress us, the divided modernists.

But, starting from today, we're turning the table on you, Mr. Nasser.

We'll use your tools and tactics.

Pardon me, Mr. Nasser. Don't get me wrong.

Having you here comes from our belief in an open-dialogue culture.

Mr. Nasser, with all due respect,

we feel like you've been a victim of the demonization of the term.

So what would you say to that?

I feel like that's your opinion, and I respect it.

What are you saying?

Of course that's my opinion!

Anything that comes out of my mouth is my opinion!

What are you saying?

If you'll allow me, Abu Firas, what bothered me the most is when you said,

"Modernism is not what some would think.

It is merely chaos and repulsion against everything past,

including religion and traditions."

And I'll quote you here when you said,

"We must beware of symbolic surrealists, intruding the Arab tongue."

And you also state,

"There is no doubt that modernists were founded by atheist Marxists."

And by the end of the article,

you call for banning the publication of the poet Yasser Al-Qandousi.

We want to hear your poem,

because it's not written here.

I didn't finish it yet.

Raven!

Give them the opening. They'll love it.

But before we do that, I need to get off. If you'll excuse me.

Why?

You're an artist, and you'll understand I can't listen to a poem without a melody.

I hope the poem is nothing like the messy article.

The problem with faux intellectuals and amateur artists

is that they have an opinion on everything

and anything.

You are absolutely right, mentor.

Nasser, go ahead.

O queen of all suns...

I have it written.

TO THE RESIDENT OF THIS ROOM

What a dumb goat!

Don't worry about him. He loves you and fears for you.

What a dumb goat!

You just follow whoever leads you.

I convinced him to let you get married.

Your grandmother would've been so happy.

ABU SAGR

Mom,

I feel tired.

Mom.

So glad you're recovering, Mr. Engineer.

What are you doing here?

Your father called and asked me to come and talk to you.

To be honest, Nasser, you have a great father.

I was talking to him, and he was very open about your condition.

Why did you tell them?

Don't worry. Your mother will never know. It's just us men talking.

So what do you want now? My brain is fine.

Just so you know, I'm also writing.

Writing what, Mr. Engineer?

You keep getting into accidents and bashing your head.

And you still don't want me to fix you?

It's none of your business. I like it that way.

You like it?

Then let me ask you a question.

- Ask away. - Are you beginning to hallucinate?

Yes! Exactly!

I knew the tumor was behind the occipital lobe, where the vision center is.

Listen, Mr. Engineer,

I want this chance.

Don't ruin it for me.

I want to make all my colleagues jealous and laugh at them seething in envy.

You and I can take down that bastard.

What do you say?

Hello?

Do you want my dad to fire you?

Hey, Hani.

How could you just leave the hotel?

And who is the girl that you let into room 227?

I'll explain it to you later.

Don't act stupid. She's already come again.

She's there now?

Yeah. Don't you understand?

Hani, wait a second. Don't hang up.

- Doctor, will you excuse me? - Yes, of course.

Oh, sorry, sorry.

Think about it.

Hani, I'm coming to you right now. Just tell her to wait.

No, don't come. Don't you understand?

I'll get her to leave. Don't bring girls here again.

Hani, I told you I'm coming.

Tell her to wait.

You can go back home.

The doctor might finally find a cure for your rusty brain.

Listen, you.

Whether I'm hallucinating or dreaming, I like what I'm seeing.

Nuwaisir!

Call me the Raven.

Take me to the Dove Hotel, please.

God bless your health.

Thank you, but start moving. I'm in a hurry.

Why are you in the back seat? Don't see that I'm a man?

- What does that have to do with anything? - Sit in front or get out.

O dove, cooing on a branch

Teach me how to coo like a dove

Fifteen riyals.

The fare, you scoundrel!

- Let me go! I'm going to get your money! - Give me my money!

Why did you let her go?

- What are you wearing? - Why didn't you ask her to wait?

I told you the receiver works fine. You just don't know how to use it.

Hey, what did you tell her?

She wants to get into that damned room. I told her it's already booked.

And she asked about you.

About me?

Yeah, but I didn't understand her. Are you in the newspaper?

Yeah. What did she tell you about the newspaper?

I don't know. I didn't get what she wanted.

Nasser, don't get me in trouble with my dad. Don't just leave like that.

I will manage this hotel.

The envelope.

I got you a rose.

Raven!

Raven!

Listen to me!

I heard about the accident. I was calling you but you kept hanging up on me.

I looked for you at every hospital and clinic.

You left me looking like a dumb goat!

Dude, why don't you get it? I never listen to a poem without a melody.

Curse this melody and this song!

What do you want now?

Abu Sagr, let go!

Let go of me, man! Let go!

- The girl was here. - Where you going?

None of your business!

What is it now?

The envelope.

It fell in the van.

You want me to get it for you?

Yeah.

Hello?

Hey, my friend. How are you?

Write down this plate number:

RSA 889.

Yeah, please locate that plate.

All right. Bye, bye.

Don't you wanna change?

No, I don't need to.

Come on, then.

Are you sure that your friend brought the van here?

Yeah, I'm sure. Abu Hasan told me he himself brought the van to this junkyard.

Stay here.

I saw you in my heart

Like a lit dream

My mornings are graced with sunlight

My nights are graced with moonlight

I love you

And I don't know why

I'll believe in it

If it makes me feel again

I'm dreaming!

Yeah, you're dreaming.

What are you doing here?

It's a dream.

What's the difference anyway between a dream and reality?

They're both the same.

At the end of the day, they're both real experiences in your brain.

Let your dreams be poems.

Go to her.

Build a real history between you two, man.

Go!

Yeah, thank you. Yeah.

Yes, much appreciated.

No, no. I'm not coming today. I'm a bit busy.

Bye.

- Found anything? - No.

Me neither.

I told them it looks something like this.

You want it? Offer me dinner, then. Some cash, anything.

Nasser, listen to me, man.

Nasser, buddy?

Come on, come on. Let's go.

Come on. We're going.

Come in.

You'll need a teapot with that.

Drink from this specially brewed cup, and you'll grow in wisdom and courage.

Congratulations on this change, my friend. Your life is indeed delicious now.

- Delicious? - Yeah, delicious.

It's clear that you're going through your enlightenment.

Look at you. You're holding a letter in your hand as well.

- I got this from... - You know what I think?

Ask me, what do I think?

What do you think?

I think you came from the future,

and you have a prophecy in your hand.

Speaking of a futuristic prophecy, listen to what the poet Abrar says.

"I go to the wise man

with a rooster and a lamb in hand.

As if the future lies in his hands.

I touch my skin, trembling and waiting.

As if my answers hover in the air, like secrets untold."

What do you think?

It's nice.

The poem understands you better than you understand it.

I tried to write a poem.

- What? - What's so funny?

You're not kidding?

No, I'm not kidding.

I haven't written it yet.

But I feel like what I want to say is already in my head.

I can see that you're in love, Nasser.

Even you've caught the disease?

Watch out. Love is but a chain of beautiful sorrows.

My son, Yasser, was just like you.

But he was a real poet.

Naturally, he got that from me.

But he was excessive with his humanity.

Do you get it?

Question: What do you see when you look at this painting?

What is there to see?

Try and think.

Take your time.

Don't rush it.

Pain...

and suffering...

Don't bullshit!

Don't close your eyes. Look at it with your eyes.

A dove. It's a stupid painting.

You told me to think.

It doesn't require much thinking.

Tell me, what is this envelope?

It's for you.

For me? From who?

A girl came here and left it.

Do you know her?

No. But give it to me.

She left it in this state?

"To"...

"To the resident of this room."

What's in it?

Nasser, it was a cosmic absurdity for this message to fall in your hand.

Why? What's written in it?

It's none of your business. Messages are between two people.

I gave it to you, though. I want to know.

You could've known. But you did the right thing.

It says, "To the resident of this room."

It's to me.

I thought you were peaceful.

If you know anything about this girl, tell me!

Love is forbidden in this room.

You're crazy!

Hello.

Hi, Raven.

Hi, there.

The heart's been eaten.

What kind of animal ate it up like that? Was it a cat or a dog?

No, no, no. It was a raven.

Why would a bird eat another bird?

Why not? A dove's heart is delicious.

Can you blame it?

We have to catch it. Otherwise, it'll bother us and do it again.

Don't worry about it. Leave it to me. I dabble in bird-hunting sometimes.

Nah, man. I don't want to bother you with this.

Come on, come on. Let me show you the doves.

- Abu Sagr. - Yeah?

I need to talk to you about something.

Well, spit it out.

- Come here. I want to talk to you. - Say it in front of him. It's fine.

No, I can't.

Go ahead to the doves, and I'll be with you soon.

I'll make it quick.

You're acting immature in front of the man. What's up with you?

There's been some updates with our thing, man.

What thing? The song? Did you write anything?

Yeah, a little. But I wanna talk to you about the girl.

Nasser,

I'm already upset about the dead dove.

So let it go. I don't wanna hear it.

And since you haven't written anything, don't bother.

Why are you quitting all of a sudden?

I'm quitting?

What happened to the oud master, the tow truck and the igniter without ignition?

Yeah, I'm still all that.

The oud master, king of towing, the igniter without ignition.

All right then. I need you to find me the journalist.

- What do you want from that donkey now? - I have unfinished business.

Raven, look at you.

Turns out you're not just a romantic, you're a man full of vengeance too.

Or is is all for that knockout?

It's also so I can write for you too.

All right, then. Your request is easy. I have his plate number in my head.

Desire consumes you and love draws you in

I fear they'd take you in

And you'd be trapped in their grip

Hello and welcome. We're pleased to have you.

Welcome, Abu Sagr. Long time no see.

What shall we call you? The repentant one?

Honestly, I tried. But there's barely any goodness in me.

- You're saying you'll start singing again? - Yeah, of course.

Look.

Abu Aziz, I always told you that I want to sing a song written specifically for me.

Well, I haven't seen or heard anything yet.

It's okay. This is Nasser.

He'll write me the poem that will make us blow up.

What's the melody?

We haven't decided yet.

I've never heard of anyone writing a song without deciding the melody first.

You hear the man? He's never heard of such a thing.

I'm looking for a guy named Khalid Al-Matroun.

Everybody says that he spends his nights here.

Khalid? Who's that?

He's a journalist.

Oh, yeah. The ostrich!

That's true. He does look like an ostrich.

We call him that because he dances like an ostrich.

- Where is he? He doesn't come here? - Yes, he does. I've seen him today.

Oh, there he is. The ostrich.

I trapped the ostrich inside. He thinks he's safe.

Well, I want to talk to him.

No, don't talk to him.

We'll walk away, pretending like we left. Once he comes out, we'll jump him.

Don't worry. Just come out. We forgive you.

Then what do you want from me now?

I want you to write another article about me.

I won't write a thing about you. You have nothing to say.

You should be thankful I wrote something and published it in the newspaper.

I don't have time for this nonsense.

- Abu Sagr... - Abu Sagr, what are you doing?

Abu Sagr, no!

- Are you crazy? - Hey!

You could've blown my face off!

Have you lost your mind?

You dare to hide, ostrich?

- Why are you like this? Relax! - I'm relaxed. Don't you want the knockout?

- I do. - Then say it!

- I just did. - Say that you want her. Let me hear it.

I want her.

That's what I'm talking about.

Unleash some of that romance.

Matter of fact, pour some of it into the poem.

You thought you got away, ostrich?

Raven, go ahead.

- I want you to write about me. - What do you want me to write?

Anything, as long as it gets published.

All right, all right. I'll write something.

Your next article is me.

All right. Just let me go. I'll write about you.

You better write something good, 'cause the knockout is gonna read it.

In more distressing news,

most rumors are short-lived,

yet some leave a lasting effect.

Perhaps the best example of this is

the rumor of the Raven Killer.

The events and scenes that fuel the story behind this rumor

are akin to a Hollywood film...

Excuse me. Give me the Yamama newspaper, please.

Buy it from the shop.

Here's ten riyals. Just give me one now.

A sound brain is a blessing.

THE RAVEN SONG:

POET NASSER SLASHES RAVEN KILLER IN HIS SONG

I've never seen a crappier hotel than this.

I swear to God, I'll file a complaint...

Why are you standing there for?

Go to room 226 and fix the receiver.

- I lost it. - Me too.

- I think it went this way. - Why would a dove go in there?

What's up with him?

What dove are you two talking about?

Get out of here! Get out!

Why is he acting so tough?

What a bunch of scoundrels.

EULOGY FOR THE POET YASSER AL-QANDOUSI

Open up!

I know you can hear me!

Tell me, man, what do you know about the girl?

Abu Sagr!

What?

Where is Abu Sagr?

He's busy. What do you want?

It's none of your business.

I told you he's busy, didn't I?

Hey, Raven. God brought you.

This guy turned out to be an incredible melodist.

Why aren't you answering your phone?

I was busy. What's up with you?

I want you to come with me to this book event.

What's this?

- I'm sure she's somehow connected to it. - Who?

The girl.

Raven, that's enough.

Write about anything else, man. Write about another girl.

I don't want to write.

I haven't even written anything.

Why don't you get it? I just want the girl.

What do you want me to do about it?

Nothing. Stay with this guy.

Forget about him, man.

A DOVE'S COO

May God pardon him.

May God rest his soul.

- Abu Tariq. - Yeah?

We would never start without you. Come in, come in.

Much appreciated.

Sir, are you here for the eulogy?

Yeah.

Do you know the deceased?

- I used to read his poems. - Oh, I see.

Come in, come in. We're starting.

Greetings. May God bestow his blessings upon you.

I welcome you here today

to eulogize Yasser, the late artist,

son of the absent artist, Mohammad Al-Qandousi.

Listen...

- Yesterday, they were together. - Yeah?

Where are the women?

And today was supposed to be the launch of his first poetry anthology,

titled A Dove's Coo: A Song or a Plea?

I am very sure that he would have loved to see all these people attending for him.

So thank you for being here

and for accepting this invitation,

despite all the fuss surrounding his death

and the disappearance of his father.

Your attendance will end that fuss once and for all.

Now, I will leave you with the deceased's close friend,

Mr. Hajji Habib Al-Atlasi,

who is the one proceeding to market to sell the last of poet Yasser's work,

which we hope will be given a chance and will receive well-deserved interest.

Mr. Hajji, enchant our ears with the deceased's words

through your fine voice.

This evening is a heart-wrenching sadness.

Ah, Yasser.

He was a philosophical poet who challenged pedagogical poetry.

"I was alone,

without a yearning stringing my heart,

nor a light to prevail the darkness.

I was alone, forever drinking sadness.

You came to me coincidentally,

and I don't know if you've come battling souls

or if you've come to me like a flying dove.

When you departed my life,

you didn't even give me a flutter goodbye, my love.

And here I am,

bleeding from the last breath of yearning.

My life had no meaning

after you chose the bitter sunset.

You left me as nothing but a remnant of a soul.

If you ever pass me, you'd see my head inclined,

surrendering to the inevitable sadness of death.

If you ever pass me, you'd see my head inclined,

surrendering to the inevitable sadness of death...

then leave...

then leave a letter in the diary of my pains...

and cover the coldness of my poetry

with your scented shawl.

So the world would give in to this nothingness

or leave us all in serenity."

Mr. Nasser? The Raven?

Brother, cast out the devil. Pray for mercy upon his soul.

Nasser...

follow me to the office.

Would you like anything else, Father?

Tea is alcohol for the believers,

but the forbidden always tastes better.

- Abu Hani, is there a problem? - Yeah.

There is a problem.

I look into your eyes, and I see idiocy looking back at me.

We're not goats. We don't screw anyone who gets close to us.

- What's the problem? - Shut up, you filthy animal!

You know what you've done.

Dulal told me everything.

You turned my hotel into a brothel.

Hani?

Yes, Father?

Give Nasser what's left of his wages. I don't want to see his face here again.

Yes, Father.

- Why don't we call the police? - No.

The reputation of this place comes first.

It's enough that we had a death case.

And now a sin is befalling on our heads.

What's going on?

Tell me!

Don't worry, Father. I'll deal with him.

The goat.

What about it?

Tell Dulal to come, take it and slaughter it.

Sure.

What did you think was going to happen?

You keep bringing that girl here every day.

What girl?

You tell me. She came back. This time she went into the room without asking.

She's here now?

Do you not understand?

What do you think?

What are you doing?

I'm going to the room.

Seriously? You'll intrude on them?

On them?

It's the receiver lady. She says there's a lot of noise coming from the next room.

Nasser?

I can explain!

- Why? - She killed my son.

What the hell are you saying?

He wrote his poetry anthology here,

and he committed suicide here.

I don't get what's going on?

Doves... always return to their carers.

Shut up!

A belated apology letter.

Yasser left us for her. We don't even know where she hails from.

She left him for her own gain.

I said shut up!

You think you're living a love story?

All of the stories are repeated

except for yours.

You don't even have a story.

What's her name?

Hadeele (A Dove's Coo).

The play is over.

Excuse me. Don't obstruct us, or I'll throw you in jail with him.

- I'm a journalist. - Excuse us.

Curse that room.

I should've locked it.

Nasser? I had a feeling you had something to do with it.

Let me take a picture of you guys.

Awesome, guys.

Another one.

Raven!

Raven!

Listen to this. We found a great one. Listen, listen.

It's the melody.

Come sit with us outside.

Bring your dove. Let's barbecue it tonight.

Come on, come on. Let's go.

ARREST OF THE RAVEN KILLER

What a random story.

You know what, Mr. Engineer?

I'm better off listening to your strange dreams.

Did you write the song?

Did your friend sing it?

But we found the melody.

Oh, okay.

Did you find the girl you love?

Nasser, why did you come here today?

You're glowing, Mr. Engineer.

I forgot to ask you a question.

What is it?

God forbid, if the surgery fails,

would you like to donate your organs?

- Yeah. - That's great.

It's your family's decision at the end of the day anyway.

But don't worry. Your brain is not fit for donation.

Anesthesia.

Sleep, my dear, sleep.

Welcome...

to the Dove Hotel.

Would you like some tea?

Yeah.

Is this a dream?

I don't know.

I tried to write you a song.

Nice. Would you like to sing it to me?

Let me sing my poetry about my love

And listen to my song In this innocent fondness...

Subtitle translation by: Afnan Linjawi