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MY MASTERPIECE

Buenos Aires is the best city
in the world.

But, strangely enough,
it might also be the worst city ever.

That contrast is what makes it
irresistibly charming.

Another highlight of Buenos Aires:
Its people.

I've travelled the world.

I'm really familiar with New York,
London, Tokyo.

But the ambition and madness
of Buenos Aires is incredibly unique.

Somebody said it's the capital city
of an empire that never existed.

It has something about the elegance
of the European cities,

but with the right amount of decay

which prevents it from
that over sweet beauty of Paris.

Buenos Aires is chaotic, unpredictable,
cruel, contradictory.

But these flaws are precisely
what makes the city breathe.

Anything can happen
in Buenos Aires.

Oops, sorry.
I was dragged by the landscape.

Truth is, I didn't mean to talk
about Buenos Aires.

I meant to introduce myself
and tell you a secret story.

My name is Arturo Silva, and I work
in the art trading business.

The secret...

I'm a murderer.

The story begins
and ends with a man.

A great artist and a friend:

Renzo Nervi.

FIVE YEARS BEFORE

Renzo, it's not just that it didn't sell.
The critics were devastating!

Aranovich from the National News

wonders why
being fully in the XXI century

I would insist
on a past century artist.

Are you calling to read out the comments
of some stupid jerk from a newspaper?

No, I'm calling because your exhibition
will be over this week.

You didn't give the press
a single interview.

You haven't shown up,
not even to the opening.

Renzo, people want
to meet the artist.

Some PR, man!

Well, but the clown part
is on you.

The world has changed, Renzo.

Have you noticed that from your sty?

You have to update a bit.
Revamp your style.

Are you done, dude?

And to top it all,
you play hard to get!

It's been over ten years since I last
sold one of your fucking paintings!

You owe me a lot of money!
How the hell are you gonna pay me back?

Sorry.

Ok, ok, I'm sorry.

Don't worry.
I'll come up with something.

That's it, Renzo.
That's it.

The work is amazing.

Once again the irony, the sarcasm.

- How much?
- 10 thousand dollars.

- What about this one?
- The same.

A critical eye at power...

At frivolity.

Well, it's your lucky day.

Here comes the artist himself.

Renzo Nervi. I'm going to
introduce him to you.

Renzo, I want you to meet...

There you go. Very stylish.

Now go sell it to some asshole
interested in it...

Should I call the police?

Yes?

- Renzo, right?
- Yes.

I'm Alex. How are you?
Nice to meet you.

- So?
- I want to take art classes with you.

- Who sent you? How did you get here?
- I've been asking around.

- Who?
- Many people.

All of them agreed that you
are the last actual painter.

You're a living legend.

A living legend?

I don't take in students anymore.

They've warned you were difficult
to deal with, and very demanding.

But, please, give me a chance.
Try me.

Admissions are closed.

Sir, I'd like to be your disciple.

I'm sorry, I'm a bit stubborn.

Ah, so you are stubborn.

Fine. Come in.

- You are from Spain, clearly.
- Yes, sir, from Madrid.

I've brought you some of my drawings.

What are you doing here,

when you could live in a rather
civilized country instead?

Don't say that. I've been travelling
around for the last six months.

I've been in Colombia, Perú,
Bolivia, now Argentina.

The liveliness down here is really...

- Depressing.
- Depressing...

I want to know first-hand
the reality of the emerging countries.

Emerging? I call them
"countries with limited capabilities".

However, to me Argentina is fascinating.
So many contrasts.

Contrasts? Ok, good.
Let's start.

Let's make it clear:
This is just a trial period.

Then we'll see whether
you'll leave or stay.

- Follow me.
- Yes.

First class. You're going to examine
with extreme care

all the objects in this room,
everything.

The lamp, the kayak,
the Bambies, the sewing machine.

Every single thing.

But do not touch anything.
Just observe, ok?

- But what's the idea?
- None of your business.

- In time, you'll see.
- But what should I see?

The first thing you've got to do
is to sit down and observe

down to the last detail
all the objects in this room.

I think two hours will be enough.

Ah, she is Laura, a student too.

- What's your name?
- Alex.

Alex is a new student. He started today,
but he's in his trial period.

- I see. I'm leaving for college.
- Ok.

Oh, I forgot to tell you.
The landlord called yesterday.

He said you owe him
eight months of rent.

- If you don't pay him off this week...
- Yes.

Tell that motherfucking exploiter
that if he has something to tell me

he can come, ring my bell and talk
straight into my face, if he dares.

You'd better tell him that yourself.

- Bye.
- Bye.

Sit down.

- Very pretty girlfriend, teacher.
- Sit down.

Arturo... It's Renzo.

He won't talk to me, just with you.

- Did you tell him I'm in?
- Yes.

- Eugenia, c'mon!
- I'm sorry.

- Hello.
- Hi.

Did you sell the paintings I shot?

If not, you are a bad seller.
I did what you asked for,

I updated them.

Look. I'm not interested
in talking to you.

Just for your information:
piercing the works of art

has been done tons of times.
You don't get it, do you?

On top of being violent,
you are a total ignorant.

I know, I know.
Sorry. I'm just kidding.

I got out of control.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

It's a good thing to admit it.

We are packing up all your paintings.

Eugenia was calling you
to deliver them right away,

along with the bill for what
you've destroyed at the gallery.

No, not to my house,
there's no room,

this house is a big mess, no way.

I fulfill my obligation to have them
delivered. You do what you want.

I don't know, make a barbecue
with them or throw them away.

This is not a dump site, Renzo.

Go fuck yourself.

Garbage! What the...

What are you doing here?
What do you want?

I've been observing
for almost three hours.

Assignment number two.

I want you to remove every
single piece that's here,

the trashy things,
the crappy things, everything.

You're going to put it over there.

Absolutely nothing stays here.
Nothing.

- But what for?
- You're gonna find out later.

Nothing should be left,
not even a slip of paper.

Got it?

See you.

- After the plaster, will you paint?
- Yes, madam.

- Can you pack that one, please?
- Sure.

Send him everything at once.
I'm not coming back.

I've told Mr. Larsen about your idea

of acquiring a piece of art
to contribute to the company heritage.

We've thought it might be interesting
to get a historic piece

to exhibit it at the main hall
of our headquarters.

Let me suggest you the following:
instead of acquiring a historic piece,

why don't you have an original piece
of art especially painted for you?

You could summon a great artist,

ask him to create a work of art
for this purpose.

The painting might even refer
to the company in some way or other...

- Sounds good.
- Of course, the investment will be larger,

but it's something else.

It's an original work.

Made-to-order.

And who could be that artist?

There are several outstanding
plastic artists.

Give me a few days, and I'll
contact you back with a proposal...

Hi.

- Hi.
- Hi, hi...

- Stop, what are you doing?
- What?

- The kid is still there.
- So what?

Let's see the pictures.

Look.

- So?
- Yes.

Say something to me.

- What?
- What do you think about them?

You are so beautiful.

Youth is so beautiful.

But then everything gets screwed up.

- C'mon, stop, seriously.
- What?

- Tell me what you think.
- Let's see.

I take them myself.

They're cute.

- Cute?
- Yes.

That's all you have to say?

I'm not an art critic,
nor do I want to be one.

I can't say what's good or bad.

I don't even know why I paint.

Talking about yourself back again.

No, it's not that. I can't state
"this is artistic or not..."

- Don't be mean.
- You know what's the problem?

We've been together for months
and you don't have the slightest idea

of what I do or think,
you've never seen me.

- It's not like that.
- Yes! You're a self centered bastard!

- Don't say that, be nice.
- Yes, you're very selfish, you know?

- C'mon...
- I don't wanna see you anymore!

Listen to me!

Go, then!

Renzo Nervi?

Don't you have anyone else
for such an assignment?

I don't know, someone younger,
less problematic.

More civilized, so to say.

I called Desagastizábal,
but he's in Spain.

And honestly, a skilled painter

who can make a forceful
oil painting on a big surface,

I don't know any other,
unfortunately.

Besides, he never complains
about the fees,

percentages...
That is not a minor topic.

I'd like to help him.
He's flat broke.

I don't like him at all.

He's always flirting with me
on the phone, uses dirty words.

- He's disgusting.
- Well, well, well.

It's amazing to see you painting.

What is it? Are you done?

- Spotless.
- Thanks.

- It wasn't easy, but it's over.
- No, it isn't over.

Now comes the most important part.

Do you remember the first step?
The observation thing?

Good, now you're going
to bring back everything

and put every object
in their original position.

This is a memory exercise,
that's why you were observing

for so many hours
as I asked you to do.

Take all the time you need
to do it consciously.

You have at least a full week ahead.

So start.

Let's see. Alex, boy!

Come here.

Read this for me, my dear.

Let's see what it says.

"This is a notice of demand,
24 hours upon notice,

to vacate the property located

on 1671 Pedro de Mendoza St.
in the city of Buenos Aires

under penalty of damage
and other legal actions..."

- Ok, perfect, great. Thank you.
- But...

Nothing.
A Chinese wise man said:

"Do not speak unless
if you can improve silence."

Go work.
Words of a living legend.

Thanks.

Son of a...

Look. Here they are.

Hey, what's up?

We've been waiting for you upstairs,
why didn't you come up?

Finally a decent exhibit
in your gallery,

very good, congratulations.

- Well, thank you very much.
- Contemporary art.

Who's the genius?

He's a young Argentinean artist.

Lives in Berlin,
I've already sold five of his paintings.

A piece of shit.

This piece of shit is sold.

You don't get it,
talking to you is useless.

The work of this guy is amazing.

Forget about it.
Now, listen to me.

Listen, I made a draft of the work
for these guys and told them it was you.

I had to show something.

You did the draft yourself?

Yes, just a sketch, no more.
And they loved it.

Doing it will be a piece of cake to you.

I didn't know you could paint.

Don't play the fool
and pay attention to me.

The old guy's name
is Alberto Larsen.

He's the company's owner.
The guy beside him

is a sort of professional sycophant
in charge of family investments.

Now we go in together,
you play the role you like,

the introvert artist who doesn't speak,
and I handle the situation, ok?

- Arturo...
- Hi, beautiful!

What you're promoting as new stuff
is really old.

Duchamp did that
more than 100 years ago.

You are more beautiful than ever.

The good thing is that,
despite his very busy schedule,

Renzo was interested
in this particular project.

Renzo, Mr. Larsen and his family
liked your draft very much.

That's good. Can I see it?

My little granddaughter liked it a lot.

Good for her.

Renzo, please tell us, how did the idea
for this work come to you?

Errr... You go.

The artist just talks
through his work.

I will tell you the story.

Renzo appeals
to the history of the company,

from the arrival
of this visionary family from Norway,

until it finally becomes the huge
company it is today.

Excellent.

It's meant to be a masterpiece

in the style of the great Mexican
muralists, but contemporary.

A work customized so as to fit
Larsen company reputation,

and that will also match
your needs for its exhibition

in the entrance hall of the building.

- It's 2 by 1, right?
- Yes, exactly.

Perfect, then.

He's very enthusiastic.

Ready. Perfect.

Look at this.
I would certainly buy this portrait.

So buy it.

Check how much you've got in
your pocket, maybe you can afford it.

Let's go back to reality.
Come, sit down.

The meeting with the Larsens was fine,
don't you think?

- The work has to be ready...
- I'm really sorry,

but quite frankly,
I'm not sure if I can make it,

I've never done
a made-to-order painting before...

This could be done by any
asshole art student...

Since you have
more than enough money...

It's not that.
I have a hard time

painting for a family
of motherfucking exploiters

as if they were heroes.

Complicated.

Of course.
You are an independent artist.

Exactly.

Picasso was independent,
because he did whatever he wanted.

He worked on demand as well, you know...
And he was a millionaire.

There is no contradiction in that...

Why in the world
are you so prejudiced?

I'm not asking you to work for Hitler.

These are some Scandinavians
who sought the end of the world

to make money as everybody else
did in those days.

In those and in all days...
screwing people.

You're tiresome. Don't come to me
with that trashy speech.

I just can't work like that, Arturo,
you've got to understand me.

You've got no choice.

Whenever I mention your name,

there's always someone
asking: "Renzo Nervi?

I thought he was dead."

- Maybe they're right.
- You're going to do it.

Repeat with me: "Even though I am
a resentful artist and an old asshole,

I will work on this painting anyway".
Cut the bullshit.

Take the draft home, improve it.

It should be ready
in two weeks time,

on the company anniversary
and I've committed to deliver it.

Two weeks? No way.
I can't make it.

You will make it, otherwise
I'll take the delivery truck

in two weeks
and take the work as it is.

Whatever you do
will be good for them.

Besides, it'll be exhibited
inside the company's building.

Only they will see it.

Enough.

There you go.

Aranovich is here,
visiting the exhibition.

- Aranovich?
- The critic?

- Yes.
- I'd love to say hello.

- It's not necessary.
- Yes, why not?

- Hi, Mauricio.
- Arturo.

- How are you doing?
- Very good.

Excuse me, I wanted
to make a comment

about the review that you wrote
on my latest exhibition.

Look, Nervi, I'm not used
to debating my reviews...

If you felt humiliated,

write a complain letter
to the newspaper.

No, please, Aranovich,
you are free to say what you want.

Obviously.

And despite the fact that you've been
even aggressive towards my work,

we always end up learning
through your ideas.

That's how it goes.
He who know, knows.

Well, thank you.
I apologize, I've got to leave.

- Ok, good.
- Yes.

This guy is very good.

The way he re-signifies daily objects
from the sports universe.

Lustful...

- Congratulations.
- Thank you.

He's very talented,
this young man.

- Good. I'll get going.
- Bye, Mauricio.

And thank you for taking the time
to analyze my work and being there.

- Thank you.
- No, please.

- My pleasure.
- I've got to go, ok?

Take your hand off me.

Thank you, thank you.

- Enough.
- Thank you.

- Brute! Human rat!
- Stop it, Renzo.

I'm sorry, I strongly apologize.

You too, get out.

- Renzo's not doing good.
- I don't forgive you, or him.

You are a decaying gallery owner,
and he's a beastly second rate jerk.

Oh, yes? Wash your mouth
before talking about an artist

like Renzo Nervi,
you're nothing compared to him.

Yes. You're not welcome here
anymore, Aranovich.

You're not welcome anymore!

Thank you.

Ok. Let's start.

Notary. Stingy.

Sales insurance. Affectionate...

Taxi driver. High cholesterol...

Let's see...

Marketing assistant.
Depressive.

Students from the province.
Pumpkin pie.

Bartender. Owns an old Volvo,
one of the squared ones.

Peronist sociologist.

Dermatologist.
Collects wooden ducks.

Soccer players' manager.
He listens to Supertramp.

Yes, Eugenia, tell me.

Arturo, Ms. Figueroa called.

She's finally made up her mind
and wants to buy Nervi's nude.

That old work, remember?

Ah, yes, the naked woman.

She says she can't afford 5 thousand
but can pay 35 hundred dollars, cash.

What a stingy old bag...
She must spend that much on a dinner.

Ok, say yes, it's ok.

Remember your painting
of the naked woman?

Yes.

Well, good news.
I've sold it to a client,

I came to pick it up
and take it to her.

35 hundred dollars,
we split it in half.

- I don't have it.
- What do you mean you don't have it?

- No. Laura has it.
- What? You gave it to her?

- I can't believe it.
- Don't get started, take it easy.

I can call her and switch it
for another painting, no problem.

- Are you sure?
- Sure.

C'mon. Good.

Here.

There you go.
There you go.

- Renzo.
- What?

Thanks.

Hi, it's Laura,
leave your message.

Hi, Laurita, what's up?

C'mon, stop it...

You haven't been answering
my calls for a long time.

Have you shot new pictures?
I'd love to see them.

C'mon... Talk to me.
It wasn't such a big deal.

Kisses.

C'mon, c'mon.

- You're certain she's at college right now?
- Yes.

Look, there it is!
And she didn't hang it.

- Okay, let's just take it.
- Yeah.

- No, stop it...
- What? Are you ticklish?

Will you lock up?
Do you have the keys?

- Fuck! Who are you?
- Relax kid, relax.

I'm Laura's father.

- Oh.
- Where's Laura?

She went to class.

Listen.
I'm very worried about her.

- Come out, come out please.
- What?

- What...?
- He's my...

Jerónimo. I'm the doctor's partner
and I love Laura like a daughter.

- Right...
- This should stay between us.

- Yes.
- Please don't tell her anything.

- Grab the painting, won't you?
- Don't worry.

Ok. We have to go now.

Bye bye!

Bye.

- Bye dear, bye.
- Nice meeting you.

How bizarre.

A bit.

It's good.

- Very good. Excellent.
- Thank you.

Well, what's next?
I hope it's something more art related.

No next. We are done.

- Did I do something wrong?
- No.

On the contrary.
You did very well.

- So?
- So that means you're saved.

You're not going to be an artist.

How come?

You've proved to be hard working,
methodic,

consistent, and above
everything else, modest,

and those attributes
won't help you become an artist.

To be a successful artist,
you need to be ambitious and selfish.

Whoever makes art, it's because
they can't do anything else,

it's a kind of disability.

You, instead,
can aspire to do something

that's actually useful
to other people.

But, you are an artist.

I'm a perfect example
of what I've just told you.

I do something
that's absolutely useless,

which doesn't appeal to anyone no more.

But I want to paint,

because I have this need
to express myself,

to say what I've got to say.

No, you don't have to "say",
you've got to "do".

One is what one does.

Not what one says.

Just listen to me, dude.

Get out of here.

I know you'll hate me,
but in a while

you'll thank me.

But, master...

What I need is to get paid
right now if you please.

- It's 25 hundred pesos.
- What do you mean 25 hundred?

- You said 500.
- Prices increase.

Increase...

I don't have the money here.
I should gather... I might bring it...

- I don't know, I can...
- As soon as possible, please.

You don't even have to ring the bell,

you can slide the money
under the doorway, ok?

Bring the money, ok?

That's good, it's ok.

So?

Very good.

You work so well under pressure.

In that sense, you are
a normal person, see?

Larsen will love it.

Yes, it's good. More or less.

The little granddaughter
has to like it.

True, the little granddaughter.

The van will pick it up tomorrow,

the company's event is at noon, ok?

Great. That'll give me time
to give it some final strokes.

What? What strokes?
It's perfect, don't touch it.

No, yes, I like to give it a last touch,
with my hand, you see?

The work itself
will tell you when it's done.

Don't give me that speech,
save it for your students.

I need an advance payment.

- Huh?
- I need money, a few bucks

to buy fuel to work at night.

Listen to me. The truck
comes at 9 tomorrow morning.

- Yes. There you go, thanks.
- Have it ready and packed, ok?

- Yes, perfect.
- It's good, so good.

C'mon, c'mon.

Slowly. Watch the step.
Watch out.

There you go. Thank you.

Good. Thank you, good.

Good. Just on time.

I appeal for a round of applause
for the author,

artist Renzo Nervi.

Unfortunately, he couldn't make it
for personal reasons.

But in his place is his art agent,
Mr. Arturo Silva,

who was the main promoter
for this project.

- Arturo, please.
- Thank you so much.

Just as in the Renaissance
the artists created their works

thanks to the patrons
that supported them,

today, Larsen family's business

takes on this noble tradition

entrusting Renzo Nervi,

one of the most renowned
plastic artists in Argentina,

to perform this masterpiece,
celebrating

and paying tribute
to one of the families

that have helped forge
the greatness of our country.

Mr. Larsen, please,
and your granddaughter.

Azul, right? Come, sweetie.
Let's go.

Let's go.

No!

Since it's the fourth time I call
and you're not answering,

here I go: Fucking drunk,

your credit's over. It's over.

You've just spoilt the only thing
you had left, which was me.

Your wild side took over and you became
the resentful old guy you are.

So you can go fuck yourself

and I hope I don't ever see you
again in this fucking lifetime!

I was just kidding,
you guys!

Kid, can you look at
my pets for a bit?

I'll go eat something
and be right back.

Thanks.

Oh, so good.

Come here.

- Sir?
- Everything was pretty good.

- Thank you very much.
- But, for you information,

don't bring the bill
because I won't pay it.

- Excuse me?
- You heard me.

I won't pay.

And do bring me another glass

of this Italian grappa,
it's really good.

C'mon, c'mon, go, go, c'mon.

Gentleman, here's your bill.

I just told the waiter
that I won't pay it.

Gentleman, don't force us
to call the police.

This dinner represents
a tiny payback

for all I've contributed
to this fucking society

as an artist along fifty years...

I've made my decision.
And you should be happy.

- My presence here has improved the average category...
- Please.

- of your clients, all crooked and ordinary.
- Please.

Don't forget to bring me my grappa now
and I'll take my leave.

Thanks, thanks.

What do we do?

Bring him his grappa
so he gets the hell out.

Are you ok, sir?

Better than you in that shirt.

Don't you see I'm crossing
the street, asshole?

What? Fuck you!

Hello.

Hello.

Hello!

Can you hear me?

The doctor said
you can't remember anything.

Do you know who I am?

You were run over by a truck
a few days ago.

They took you
to a public hospital

and I brought you to this clinic.

You'd deserve to be left

to die alone and abandoned
but you were lucky.

I don't want to carry that burden,
so once again, here I am.

You've got three broken ribs,

a smashed knee,

blunt trauma in head and legs.

You were taken to the ICU.
Now you are stable,

but amnesic.

The doctor asked me
to help you rebuild your past,

so that you can
exercise your mind.

Ok? Yes?

Let's start from the beginning.

Your name is Renzo Nervi.
You are a painter.

I am Arturo Silva and I've been
your art agent for a thousand years.

Hi, how's everything going?

This is a prehistoric picture: 1975.

That's you and me.

We've been friends
for over forty years, Renzo.

Here we are on holidays.

I was with Inés,
I had just met her.

And you were
with your girl of the moment,

I think Beatriz was her name.

Remember anything?

Look. My old gallery in Juncal St.
That's you.

Do you recognize yourself?

It's ok, it's ok, leave it.

This is your work.

From the 80's.

Right...

- And did it sell?
- Yes, of course.

- Yes?
- Yes, on that decade you were trending.

I'm gonna leave you this book,

it has many more for you to see.

Very powerful work, pop art.

We made lots of money.

You were sought after
from much larger galleries,

with incredibly attractive money offers,
exhibitions abroad...

But you always said no.

You put our friendship first,
before your personal benefit.

That's something I could never forget.

A beautiful era.
We had so much fun.

We sold everything you did.
Everything.

- And now?
- Now, we don't.

Look, pay attention.

Look at this woman.
The one in black.

Do you recognize her?

No.

- Do you find her attractive?
- No.

She was your wife for twenty years.

Raquel. She passed away
a while ago.

The poor thing.

You were involved with a Polish woman
for quite a while too.

- How was the Polish one?
- A disaster.

- Don't say.
- Yes.

You've always had
a strong stomach.

Here I am with Inés, on a vacation.

Look, here, with my son Agustín.

He was around five then,
he's a man now.

He's thirty, lives in the USA,
is an engineer.

- Tell me, are you still with...
- Inés? No.

- No, we separated a while ago.
- What a pity.

Oh, well.

Wait, I wanna show you...

There it is.

This is Agustín today.

Look at him.

You have a son too.
His name is Pablo.

You saw him when he was born,
you stayed a few days,

and then ran away.

I think the mother's name
was Esther, it was just a fling.

Wait, I got
some Facebook pics.

There it is, look.

He's a big guy now, see?
The fat one with the Van Dyke beard.

This would be your wife,

and the little fat ones,
your grandchildren.

If you hadn't run away,
this'd be your family now.

Oh yes...

Look what I brought you.

I couldn't afford the million bucks
painting that you liked,

but I brought you the catalog
of his last exhibition.

Oh, thank you.

A cell phone
so we can be connected.

And the glasses you asked for.

It was one thing after the other.

The last period was tough...

We were not selling
anything at all.

But why?

I don't know. To me you are still
a great painter.

But fashion trends change.

It all started going
in a different direction

and you stayed behind.

And then, Renzo, you became
really stubborn, antisocial.

"Everyone's an asshole, and they
don't realize how great I am."

So imagine.

And when you had
a made-to-order assignment,

that would've helped you
get back on your feet,

you screwed it all up...
as a resentful drunk scumbag...

This is my friend.
Go on, go on.

- You were thrown out of the pigsty you were renting.
- Really?

Your stuff was seized
as a preventive measure.

Even your works
are held as deposit in court.

- I should've died for good.
- Well, that would've been ideal.

Nothing sensible
can ever happen to you.

You're not dead... Instead,
here you are, a decrepit old man...

torn to pieces and amnesiac.

- The outlook is...
- Holy Mother.

Be careful, you guys, ok?

They're done bringing down
Nervi's works.

They are a lot.

Good.
We've got to separate...

the paintings
that are well preserved

from the ones
that need to be restored.

Unfinished work and sketches,
to the side.

And you,
take pictures of everything.

Let's go.

Do we start with all these ones?

Then, we can bring the ones from there.

I see, I see...

What do you see?

A thing...

What color is it?

Black! Like your big mamma's ass!
Fuck you!

Get out of here
with that fucking nose,

I don't want to see you again!

Well, that's improvement.

Which improvement? Holy shit...

- Hi, Laurita.
- Hi Arturo, how are you?

- Thanks for coming.
- Santi, my boyfriend. Arturo.

- How are you, Santi?
- Hello, how are you?

I owe you an apology,
but you know Renzo.

- Don't worry, it's all good.
- Ok.

He is devoted to you,
that's why I called you.

- I get it, seriously, it's all good.
- Thanks a lot.

As I told you,
Renzo almost died.

He's a little better now,
but really depressed.

Don't be shocked when you see him.
Try to smile, cheer him up.

I hope he knows who you are.

He's over there, room 303.

- Thanks.
- Let's go.

No, dude, stay with me.
C'mon, stay here.

Hi.

Do you recognize me?
Do you know who I am?

Laura! How are you, Laurita?

Good, and you?

You disgusting old man,
fucking misogynist,

it's good to see you flat on your back!
Now you won't spy on me anymore.

Anyway I warn you I've already
bought a new lock.

I wish you go rotten,
now I'm with a real man

who fucks me real good,
not like you,

old soft dick asshole!

Thanks for everything.

Thanks so much, Laurita.

I'm sure it was
good for him to see you.

Thank you very much.

It's over.

Very interesting.

I can't...

I don't see much...

compatibility with my gallery.
It's not what I usually...

Let's see, wait a sec...

Eugenia, I've got to go
to the clinic.

Please, try to send this artist

to a more underground place,
more aligned with his style.

I leave you in good hands.

- Thank you.
- My pleasure.

Did you watch a lot of TV?
Till very late, grandpa?

This grandpa is a little deaf.

Do you know
if he moved his bowels?

I wouldn't know. Renzo?

The thing with old people
is they dehydrate too easily.

He's got to drink a lot of water.

Did you hear, grandpa?
A lot of water, ok?

See you tomorrow,
God willing.

See you tomorrow, nurse.

Arturo.

Everything ok?

Not good. Bad.

I wanna put an end to all of this.

Why do you say that?
You're doing so much better.

You started to recover.

Now you gotta
get out of the hospital,

life goes on in the city.

A city full of shitty people,
with shitty little jobs,

inside their shitty houses.

Oh, that's so deep and heartbreaking!

I'm sure you must have told me

an improved version of my life.

But you know what?

It looks pathetic to me anyway.

From that perspective,

any life is stupid and pointless.

- Mine, yours...
- I'll say this only once.

I'd rather die than to continue
living like this.

Do you want to help me?

Yes.

You know what you've gotta do.

Now grandpa is going to sleep.

Bye.

What you tell me is terrible...

I thought he had long been dead.

It's a very hard situation.

He's recovering his memory only now.

He's penniless.

I'm helping him as much as I can.

- Very hard.
- Mhmm.

He has nothing but his works...

which, honestly,
are rather devaluated.

Like he's nobody these days.

Mind you,
his paintings are really good.

But if he can't make it out
of this situation... well, poor guy...

You know what I mean.
If he dies,

- prices will rise like crazy.
- They might... or not.

I have all his paintings in my gallery,
all of it.

About two hundred paintings.

The work of a lifetime.

What I'm specifically
offering you, Dudú,

is that you keep half of his work.
One hundred.

What figure are you thinking of?

One million dollars. Just think.

Ten thousand apiece.

You know that Nervi's paintings

don't fall below
fifteen, twenty thousand dollars.

I don't think you're selling now this
guy's work at 20 thousand, honestly.

And truth is, he's not an artist

I'm particularly interested in.

And I have my doubts that in the future
he'll be more in demand.

- Nine hundred thousand?
- Arturo, please don't bargain with me.

I've never mentioned
it was too much for me,

I simply said I was not interested
in that artist.

If we purchase all the pieces
at three hundred thousand dollars,

that would make 15 hundred per each...

No way... it's too scarce.

He has no idea about money.
To him that's quite a fortune...

You can pay whatever you want.

That's exactly why
my responsibility is even bigger.

I don't want to screw Renzo,
he's my friend.

I want to pay him a fair price.

At 25 hundred each, how much is it?

It'd be five hundred thousand.

No, it's too much.
I can't afford it.

- Good morning.
- Hi.

I was thinking...
How are my pets?

- We had to sacrifice them, of course.
- What?

No, I'm just kidding...
Your filthy zoo is sound and safe.

Cats, dogs, birds.

What are we gonna do
about the expenses of the shelter?

It's a lot of money.

I'm gonna ask you
to leave everything as it is,

and what's more,
I'm gonna ask you

- to be in charge if I'm not around, get it?
- Ok.

Well then, let's talk about money.

But pay attention, please.

Besides your animals' shelter,
you know I'm covering

the expenses of the clinic,
which are very expensive.

But it's not just that.
I rescued your work,

which were held at the deposit in court,

and I paid off your rent debt,

to avoid a nasty trial.

How would you want me
to pay you back?

- Keep my works.
- Your work is safe at the gallery.

You can't imagine the pigsty
where it was all stored.

Rats, leaks. Disgusting.

We're now labeling
and documenting every item.

You have approximately
two hundred paintings.

Making a huge effort, Renzo,
I can buy your entire work

at three hundred thousand dollars.

That'd be 15 hundred dollars apiece.

I don't care about the money.
I remember everything.

I know you've been
the most loyal of friends

throughout my whole life.

I just needed you to know
how thankful I am.

Thank you.

Tomorrow you'll have to sign

a lot of paperwork,
the authenticity certificates...

Otherwise I can't sell
your paintings to anyone. Ok?

- Yes, my dear.
- Ok, let's stop the talking.

- Get out of here! Get out!
- Sorry...

Sign here.

Very good. Here.

Yes?

I'm Alex. I used to be
Renzo's art student for a while.

- Yes?
- Yes.

Come in, please.

How do you do, kid?

- How are you?
- How are you doing?

I came to keep up with my word.
I brought the 25 hundred pesos.

You didn't have to.

I went to your home and learned
you didn't live there any longer.

And then I recalled the legal notice,
found out about the accident,

and I've been looking for you
for weeks.

You know I'm a little stubborn.

You don't owe me anything.

I do.
And most importantly,

I wanted to thank you
for your advice.

At that moment I felt frustrated,

but in time I saw your point,
and now

I can realize how important
meeting you was to me.

Even if you refuse,
I regard you as my master.

Oh come on... I'm no master.

Please take the money for your lessons.

No, please, keep it, please.

No, seriously. What I've
learned with you is invaluable.

Why don't you help somebody else
with that money?

Renzo is now very well taken of.
He doesn't need anything.

I'm sorry, I insist.
I won't leave till I pay my debt.

Ok, Renzo, take it.

Ok. Just leave it somewhere.

What are those papers you were signing?

He is Arturo, my art agent
and friend.

He takes my work,
which is worthless,

as payment for all of this.

Is he paying for your medical bills?

- Sure.
- Would you like to share the expenses, kid?

No, no.

You can't imagine how expensive it is
to have an accident...

I wouldn't advise it.

So, do you still want
to become an artist?

No, no. I'm working
as a volunteer in an NGO

that's sponsored by
the Dutch government.

- Oh, yes?
- Yes. We're like a rescue squad,

assisting the homeless,

we tidy them up, feed them...
We've saved lives.

I think this is my true vocation:
community service.

And I found out thanks to you,
master.

No talking but doing:

just what you told me once.

It stuck in my mind, and I...

- You're a little tired, Renzo.
- A little, yes.

Your master wants to sleep now.

Besides, the visiting hours are over.

Of course.
Here is my personal card.

You can call me anytime.
You know I'm your loyal disciple.

Thank you.
Bye, my dear.

When are you going back home,
master?

I don't think he will,
it's not his home anymore.

- Please...
- Ok.

- See you.
- Arturo.

Bye, kid.

- Master.
- Bye, kid.

Oh, that's good, the way he...

- He's a good kid.
- Well, well, too much.

SOLIDARIZ-ARTE
The art of giving

Arturo!

I can't go on.

- Hello?
- Arturo Silva?

Yes, it's me.

I'm calling from the clinic,
regarding patient Nervi.

Did anything happen?

There he is.

He disconnected himself last night.

He got out of his bed
and went to the nurses' office

where he took
everything he found there.

- He was found unconscious.
- Fuck!

He's stable now, and recovering.

He won't be in his room
till tomorrow.

I'll be in the nursing room
if you need me.

Yes, thanks.

THE END

- Come.
- Yes.

- Can we talk someplace else?
- Yes, sure.

I wanted to thank you

for everything you've done for him...

Please, it's my job.

Still, what you did means a lot to me.
This is for you.

Thanks a lot.
You don't need to, though.

You deserve it.

Also, I want to...

I need you to do me
an important favor...

I guess this is not the first time
you're asked such thing, but...

I need you to provide me
with a substance, a drug,

so that if things don't improve
I can give an end to my friend's pain.

Something that can't be traced.

What happened was clearly
a suicide attempt,

and I think Renzo
has all the right in the world

to decide if he wants
to keep on living or not.

It kills me to see him like that.

A guy full of vitality who...

It's just in case.
It doesn't mean I'm gonna use it.

Dissolve it in any drink.

The effect is immediate
and undetectable.

- This meeting never happened.
- Obviously. Thank you so much.

- Good luck.
- Thank you. Seriously.

If you're watching this,

it means that I...
I'm dead.

I was born in year 332
after Rembrandt,

I start my count with Rembrandt,
who was a genius.

Not after Christ,
who was a lunatic.

What do you work for?

To purchase stuff?

To go on holidays?

Slavery never came to an end.

Now it's called "work".

And studies, college... All useless.

Ignorant or cultivated,
twice ignorant.

This place has no way out,
When a whole country

sits their ass in front of a TV,

to watch 22 millionaires
running after a ball,

there's no hope.

Ideologies don't exist anymore.

Man exists.

An actual man,
who behaves this or that way.

Man doesn't come from the ape.

Man is an ape.

An ape standing on its feet
who sits down to shit.

And now,
the most important thing of all.

I'm such a pessimist

that I'm optimistic.

Because the extremes meet.

And the cold burns.

Fuck you all! Good bye.

Before taking the floor,

I wanted to show you

this video of Renzo.

I found this posthumous
message in his phone,

among his belongings,

and it's bone-crashing.

Mr. Minister, Director
of the Museum of Fine Arts,

general audience.

Thank you so much
for coming

to the posthumous exhibition
of this great artist

who passed away
almost two months ago.

I will al...

I will always feel
the absence of Renzo

as a dagger in my heart...

He was always true to himself.

He would not follow market ups
and downs or pressure from anybody.

I witnessed his dignity
and his integrity,

even in the toughest of times.

But he could never really get back
on his feet after that accident.

He has left us with
an overwhelming legacy.

But I will still miss him
as the great friend he was.

Enjoy the exhibition.

Arturo...

There's a kid who wants to see you.

Alex, from "SOLIDARIZ-ARTE".

Gosh, he's boring...

Tell him I'm in a meeting,
and I'm leaving in a trip tomorrow,

or have him write an email
if he needs anything.

- Ok.
- Mr. Silva.

How are you?
It's just a minute.

Look, I travel tomorrow
and I'm very busy.

Just a couple questions, that's it.

- Ok. Go, Eugenia, go. Come in.
- Excuse me.

- All good?
- Yes.

I'm glad.

Just a little thing, out of curiosity.

Where do the profits for the sales
of Renzo's works go?

Did he have heirs?

Because I've been asking
and one of his works

is not below thirty thousand dollars.

Honestly, I don't know
why I should be answering

this kind of question,
but for your information,

let me tell you that all of Renzo's work
belongs to me.

I legally bought it from him.

I see.

And now that he is dead, where is
that money you paid him for his work?

I understand he used most of it

to afford his medical expenses...
You visited him there.

And the rest?

I have no idea. I don't know
if you're satisfied with the answer,

or do you want me to add anything?

No, no.

It's just that you took him
out of the hospital,

which means that
he was doing better, right?

And all of a sudden, he dies.

That's how it was.

True, everything was fast,
and really sad.

Anyway, I have to be honest.

Your questions and suspicions...

I find them
completely out of place.

Renzo was like a brother to me.

I've always supported him,
not just from a financial

but from a human viewpoint.

And it makes me pretty mad

that a fellow that met him
for five minutes

crosses the line as you are doing.

You are being very disrespectful
of Renzo's memory.

And you are offending me.

So leave right now because I swear
I'll call the police.

- Get off!
- So I will.

But this is far too shady.

Too shady... How poetic!

Get out of here. Shadows!

Arturo!
Thanks for coming.

Now things are different.

The prices of Nervi's works
have rocketed

after his death.
There's a big demand...

Blah, blah, blah, Arturo,

don't use that argument with me.

I know this business
better than you do.

But I'm selling a lot, seriously.

That's why I asked you to come.

You're selling at domestic prices.

I'm proposing to make a leap,
create demand abroad.

Besides, if you keep selling so well,

you'll be left with nothing
when the prices go up...

That's not a problem.
There's plenty of paintings.

Back then, when you
came to see me,

I couldn't see the business.

Now that the guy died,
everything is on your side. C'mon.

Arturo, you know
that I play in a different league.

We have branches
in Shanghai, New York, Sao Paulo.

It's a different
sales range, my dear.

I know.

I could pull open some strings
to hold exhibitions of Nervi

at the most renowned
museums of the world.

Ok, Dudú.

- Now let's talk about figures.
- Better.

What's your proposal, exactly?

Simple. I'll give you
two million dollars,

and it'll be 50-50 partnership
on all future sales of Nervi's works...

That is, I'll double
what you had once offered me.

Did you say sixty for me,
and forty for you?

No, you got it wrong, Arturo...

I can grant annual sales
at least five times higher than yours,

or more... You know that.

Fifty five for me,
forty five for you,

I stand my ground.

Renzo has no ceiling, Dudú.

Ok, it's a deal.

We'll do the paperwork later.

What do you think if,
as a first step,

we organize an exhibition
in some museum abroad?

I love it.

ONE YEAR LATER

Hi, Dudú, where are you?

Ok, I'm coming in.

We meet at the hall directly.

Last month, one of Nervi's paintings
was sold at an auction

for 140 thousand dollars...
and that was no exception.

One hundred forty three,
more precisely.

He says that no doubt it's worth it.

Thank you. Please...

This is my favorite painting.

It's from the 80s,
the prime time of Nervi...

It's a really extraordinary painting...

How much do you want for the work?

This one, or which one, exactly?

All of them. The entire collection.

Does he mean all the works
exhibited here?

Correct, sir.

The point is, we don't have

so many of these large-scale works...

It's a limited number. We can't possibly
get rid of all of them.

The sheik says he's interested
in all the exhibition

such as it is displayed here
for his palace.

How much do you want
for everything such as it is?

Tell him we're thankful
for his interest but...

not all the entire exhibition
is for in sale.

I want to talk to you.
Give us a second, please.

Just a second and we'll be right back.
Excuse us.

Excuse us.

What is it?

Sell the whole thing...
It's an amazing load of money.

No, Arturo. No.
We can't sell them all, it's insane,

we need some backup for the future.

The prices are escalating unendlessly.

- I don't think it's smart to sell it off.
- I've got more.

Besides, this guy brings
the whole work to his palace,

just to be enjoyed
by him and his harem,

and the paintings will be put off stage.

No. We need them moving around,
being exhibited in museums, auctions...

- Dudú, I've got more. Many more.
- What?

More of Renzo's work
appeared at his aunt's house

where he lived for ten years
in the eighties.

- At an aunt's house.
- Yes.

- Why hadn't you told me about it?
- I'll explain it to you later...

There's a stock of 90 paintings
at least... or more...

from the eighties.

So sell everything and we'll
restock later. C'mon, c'mon.

- You are a piece of shit.
- No!

- Yes, you are a piece of shit.
- It's not what you think.

Very well.

Tell him that if the offer
is very generous,

we would be willing
to assess the possibility

of selling the entire exhibition.

He says that the proposal
will be more than generous.

The sheik would like to invite you to
join him for dinner to close the deal.

Thank you very much.

The China exhibition was outstanding.

We're slowly gaining over that market
thanks to Dudú's contacts...

Just think that in a really short time
we had individuals

in Rio de Janeiro, Boston, Rome,

Paris, Peking, Frankfurt.

We are doing really well in sales.

The prices keep going up, but...

We need more works from the eighties.
The demand is high.

I'll make you all the paintings
from the 80's that you wish...

Sell those and I'll make up for them.

This one's ready.

Let's see.

Excellent.

It's a pity that you were famous
after your death, like Van Gogh...

Did you see?

Nineteen eighty...
What do you say?

Make it eighty four.

There.

She's the girl
that brings the fresh veggies.

She's really cute, you'll see...

Carrots...

Anything else?

Yes, two red peppers.

A motorcycle is approaching.

What?

- Where?
- There.

Let me see.

Yes? Who is it?

Alex!

What are you doing here, kid?

I can't believe it.

Look at you...

What are you doing?

What do you want to do?
Take a picture?

Wait, stop, did you come alone?

Unbelievable.

No, kid. Leave that thing alone.
Stop recording.

- Stop. Turn that off.
- Wait.

- Listen to me.
- Stop recording, leave that!

I'm telling you to stop that!
Stop shooting!

- Give me my fucking phone.
- Let me explain!

There's nothing to explain!
Give me my phone!

Please, calm down!

Listen to me. Come on inside.
This is my house.

Let's talk like civilized people.

Listen to your master.

Go in the house.
It's all good, Alex. Go.

- Come.
- Go. It's all good.

- Come, dear, come.
- Go, go.

You've cheated on everybody.

What you did is very irregular,
very wrong.

I'm sorry but I have no choice other

than reporting you
on my return to Buenos Aires.

No, no. C'mon.

Think. Think for a second.

It was the best way to help him,
and I think I wasn't mistaken.

Look at Renzo.
He's doing better than ever.

- But it's a fraud.
- Art is a fraud.

Nobody gets harmed.
I can do what I love

and needn't be
an ass-kisser either.

But you're damaging people
who purchase your works in good faith.

No. The people who purchase
Renzo's works

are actually buying
Renzo's original work.

Yes. It's mine.

Let's be straightforward.

- What do you want?
- What?

You followed me all the way here,
you drove 1,700 km from Buenos Aires,

found the whole thing out, so...
Congrats, you won!

How much do you want?

- Are you trying to bribe me?
- Yes, I'm bribing you.

No, I haven't come all the way here
to blackmail you.

You can have five percent,
Alex.

- Are you serious?
- Ten percent, last call.

But, who do you think I am?
You offend me.

I wanted to know the truth,
and now I know it.

I'm really happy that you're alive
and doing fine, Renzo,

- but I'm going back to Buenos Aires.
- Stay for lunch, at least.

I prepared llama stew.
And then you leave.

You have many driving hours ahead
and there's nothing on the way.

See, Alex?

You thought I was a murderer,

now I've proved
what kind of person I am

and what kind of a friend I am.

You're right, and I apologize.

But what you've done
is a scam, no doubt.

And what is that to you?

Not to me.
It's the fact that it's wrong

and I don't want to be an accomplice.

So don't. Just drop it and that's it.

Can I have my phone back,
please?

You don't eat
with your phone on the table.

Besides, there's no
service here, no internet, nothing.

Well, but tell us something
about your life, Alex.

What are your plans?

Are you gonna take
a few days off here in Jujuy?

No. I just came here
following him.

Nobody knows I left.
I have to go back to Buenos Aires,

because I have
a lot of work at the NGO.

I'm general coordinator already.

So you've been promoted.

We're organizing
some bartering events

so we can raise funds
for the qom tribe.

We're exchanging qom handicrafts
for money and food for them.

We can collaborate
with this NGO.

- We can donate money.
- Sure.

It'd be dirty money.

To me, moral values come first.

And I learned that from you, Renzo.

- From whom?
- From me?

Well...

So, how was the stew?

Very good.

Now, let me confess, my next step

will be to stop eating animals.

- Oh, I see.
- Good for you.

Well, I should be leaving.

I don't want to ride
through the mountains in the night.

Where's the bathroom?

Down there, the left door.

This kid is something...

An asshole with a capital letter.

And there's no way to talk him
out of it. He's not interested in money.

He's like a boy-scout
but with big hairy nuts.

It's a disgrace, Renzo.

He said he'll report us
as soon as he gets to Buenos Aires.

Do you think he's capable of that?

No doubt. This guy is the type
of really earnest asshole.

- Renzo.
- Yes.

What's that?

This is poison. It finishes you out
and leaves no trace.

And how come you have that?

Your nurse at the clinic gave it to me.

Remember when you asked me
to kill you?

- And you would've...?
- No, I wouldn't have used it anyway.

Well, I think so.

It's something else now.

- Did you hear what he said?
- What?

That nobody knows he's here.

Ah, yes.

Do I put it in his coffee?

Now I'm ready to go.

Wait, kid... Have a coffee first.

Arturo is preparing some.
He makes it really good.

Alright. A quick coffee, ok?

So, tell me more about the project
with the qom community.

Now we're finishing the construction
of a dining room.

It's the third. We've received
lots of contributions

but the point is how to do
the logistics,

to make things reach
those who need them.

And the qom kids, what can I say,
they're beautiful and healthy,

who know nothing of technology
because they don't have it.

Their biggest commodity is getting
some candies at the convenience store.

For Children's Day
we collected some toys,

and I can't explain
how beautiful it was.

It was great
to give them out to the kids

and witness the smiles
on their innocent faces,

with those big black eyes.

In the Netherlands now

they're managing to get us
a truck to move stuff.

Here's your phone.
Excuse me.

- I didn't delete anything.
- Ok, thank you.

But check it, you'll see
I didn't delete anything.

- Arturo, I trust you.
- Ok.

- Here's your coffee.
- Thanks.

- Coffee.
- Yes.

A little bit more sugar.

What is it?

Nothing.

I've been thinking.

You're right.

What we did is no good.
It's a scam, Renzo.

Yeah, what the hell.

- What's wrong is wrong.
- What's wrong is wrong.

A young man, caring and idealist,

giving a lesson to these two old men
who committed a mistake.

That's too much, but thanks.

Things are what they are.

When you get to Buenos Aires,
do whatever you've got to do.

I'm really sorry,
I'm afraid I have no choice.

Oh, well.

The coffee's getting cold.

- If I'm excused I have to go to the restroom.
- Please.

So is that it?

How would I know?
I think so.

Anyway... let's wait.

- So?
- What do I know, shit! Wait!

Let's see.

Yes. That's it, that's it.

- Come, come here.
- No, I'm feeling bad.

Take it easy.
Maybe the height...

We're above 3,000 meters...

- Sorry about the show...
- No.

- Give me a rag, I'll clean it.
- No, don't worry.

- No, no, a rag?
- No. Are you better?

I don't know...
You threw up all of a sudden.

That fucking llama
that he ate, probably.

Bye.

Let's go back to the beginning.

I told you I was a murderer,
and did not lie to you.

As time went by, the poison
had lost its lethal effect.

It was overdue.

But I meant to kill
an innocent man.

And I carried it out.

But fate turned things
the other way.

My internal debate will be held
only with my psychoanalyst.

It's a secret I share
with my friend Renzo

and now with you.

How did it all end?

Such as we had suspected...

- So, I asked that qom kid what was it...
- as a righteous stupid boy-scout,

Alex reported us for fraud.

Questions?

We were put on probation.

It wasn't bad as it
could've been.

We are in the hands of Justice

with Mr. Renzo Nervi.

Renzo and I were
all over the media.

Dudú didn't know anything,
so she escaped prosecution.

Argentina is quite
a particular country.

And the art market
is unpredictable.

Many people took our fraud
as a work of art.

Renzo's prices and reputation

boomed even more
than with his alleged death.

Renzo is still living in Jujuy.

He paints from dawn till dusk.

Of course, now, although he could,

he still hates coming to the city.

Contrary to myself,

I am already missing Buenos Aires.

Hello!

Happy birthday.

Come, I brought you
some presents.

Grappa, olive oil,
champagne, caviar.

Look at this, this grappa, marvelous!

This is too much.

- Something's missing.
- What?

Come, let's go inside.

Now, yes.
Happy birthday.

This is worth a million dollars.

A little bit more.

But you're turning eighty...

What are you thinking about?

Death.

And what do you think about death?

I'm against it.

You know? A week ago...

I had an audience with the
Belgian Royal family.

The king and the queen
are really fans of your work.

And they saw this landscape
in a museum

and they want you to paint one
especially for them.

I'm sorry.
The painting is already done.

It's one of the most important
collections in the world.

We put the price. No ceiling.

You know I'm not
a made-to-order painter.

So you still think the same.

Besides, I hate kings.

Ok, we will talk about it later,
more calmly.

No, I'm already calm.
The answer is no.

We'll see. We'll see.