All language subtitles for Frida (2022) M4ufree

* And she is the flame *

* That rises up *

* And she is a bird in flight *

* In the night
that catches fire *

* Hell is this heaven *

Up! Up, up, up up!

Careful, guys.

This corpse is still breathing.

Try to get me there
in one piece.

Hello, Professor.

Hello, Frida.

Diego Rivera is back
in the auditorium!

- Who cares?
- With a naked woman.

Oh, yeah. Yeah.

Shh.

Why is this whore still here?

Huh?

Tell me.

Tell me, mi amor.

Are you planning to have her
after lunch,

or have you fucked her
already?

Lupe, please don't start.

Y-You think I don't know
what's going on.

You must think I'm an idiot.

- I can't work like this.
- Yes, you can.

Your food and your slut.

That's all you need to paint
your pinche murals!

Hey! Get out!

And don't come home!

Don't come home and give me
one of your speeches

about the artist and the people
and your fucking revolution!

You only care about yourself,
you piece of shit!

So much for lunch.

Although...

I could eat you, perhaps.

I-I've eaten female flesh
before. Yeah.

Yes.

Wrapped up in... tortillas.

Tastes like...

the tenderest young pig.

Watch out, Diego!
Lupe's coming back!

Fucking punks!

Come on,
you little anarchists!

Let's go! Frida!

Just keeping you honest,
panzon.

Panzon.

Do I look fat to you?

Shh!

Shh!

Shh, shh, shh, shh!

Oh, yeah.

- Here you are.
- Gracias.

Frida, we found
the most beautiful fabric

for my wedding dress today.

Fantastic.

It cost a fortune.

- Mama?
- Yes?

Are these ripe?

They should be.
Let me see.

Yes, they're fine.
Just need a day or two.

Maybe you'll get married,
too, one day.

One can only hope.

Lunch is almost ready.

Go get the artist.

I love this one.
It's beautiful.

I like it, too.

They're busy with the wedding.

Cristina is so excited
about her dress.

Good.

Everyone should be excited
when they get married.

I suppose.
If that's what you want.

And, uh... what do you want?

I don't know.

I just don't think
that marriage is for everyone.

Well, you need
a good reason to do it,

just like with anything else.

What do you think matters most
for a good marriage?

A short memory.

Why did you get married,
Papa?

I can't remember.

So I could have you.

And concentrate, everybody.

Wait. Where is Frida?

Adriana, go tell your sister
to hurry up.

I always wanted a son.

And, Matilde, everyone,
eyes to the camera,

and...

Come on.
We'll miss our bus.

- Frida!
- Excuse me.

How much is the calaca?

Frida, come on!

- The bus!
- We'll take the next one.

No, no, no!
Come, come, come!

W-Watch out. Hey! Hey.

Anyway, I just don't think
he's completely apolitical.

That's all.

But that's because you read it
after you read Marx.

You... you always read things
in the wrong order!

That's ridiculous.

Why should it matter
what order you read it in?

Because if you have
already read Marx,

then of course Hegel is
going to seem political.

But the truth is the idea
of history as a dialectic.

It just predicts Marx...

Is that gold? Real gold?

For the ceiling
of the opera house.

Move!

Move it, idiot!

Your brake!

The spinal column was broken,

as were the collarbone
and two ribs.

The pelvis is broken
in three places.

The metal rod entered
the right side of the body

and came out the vagina.

The right leg has
11 fractures,

And the foot was crushed.

Will she ever walk again?

Let's make sure
she lives first.

Is Alex alive?

- Frida.
- Is he all right?

He was hurt, but not terribly.

He was here yesterday
when you were not awake.

And Mama?

It was too much for them,
Fridocha. They are at home.

How long have I been here?

Three weeks.

We're almost there.

Gently, now.

There is nothing left to spend.

I will sell
some of my equipment.

For another operation
that probably won't work.

No. No. Listen.

Maybe this time it will work.

And then how will you
make money?

I'll... paint portraits again.

Admit it, Guillermo.

She'll never walk again.

Go on in, Alex.
She's waiting for you.

Hello, ugly.

They're beautiful.

How do you feel?

Like I've been hit by a bus.

Come on, silly.
Come, come. Come sit with me.

Look.

It's my only good angle
at the moment.

No, it's not.

I like you this way.

You're easier to keep up with.

Spengler...
because you love him.

Schopenhauer
because it's good for you.

Oh, Alex.

You know I adore you.

I've missed you so much.

I told the doctor the handrail
had taken my virginity.

And I'm sure he believed you.

You know...

when I get out of this cast,

I'm going to show you
a couple of things

I still remember from before.

Okay.

What?

My aunt and my uncle are
leaving for Europe, and...

they've invited me
to come along.

But that's wonderful.

When would you leave?

Soon.

Next week.

How long will you be gone?

They're going for two months,

and... afterwards I might
stay on at the Sorbonne.

I will be staying on.

Did I tell you
that I'm going to walk again?

Yes.

Do you believe it?

Of course I do.

You'd better.

Because
you're going to miss it.

N-No.

Frida...

I want you to leave
before I finish this butterfly.

How are you feeling?

How am I feeling?

I can't even remember what
it felt like before the pain.

Isn't that horrible?

Dr. Farril is coming
on Monday.

He is bringing
a back specialist,

Dr. Cervantes.

I feel like some rich girl
with a new suitor every week.

But all my suitors
have turned into doctors.

And I'm not a rich girl,
Papa.

How come you never ask me
about my plans anymore?

Hmm?

You used to always say,

"Tell me your plans, Frida."

What are your plans... Frida?

Right now I'm a burden.

But I hope to be a
self-sufficient cripple one day.

After that, I don't know.

You are not a burden...

my love.

See? Here.

We have something for you.

Matilde, come.

We noticed that there was
no more room left on your cast,

- Oh.
- So...

Mm-hmm.

Now you look like
a gringa movie star.

Let me see.

It's too much money.

Mama, Papa...

I have a surprise.

Careful, now.

Don't worry. Don't worry.
It's all right.

Aah!

Do you want a rich tamale?

Delicious...

I need the ochre.

- Is it ready?
- Almost.

No. Now.
I need it now.

Okay.

Se�or Rivera?

Diego!

Who are you?
What do you want?

I have something important
to discuss with you.

I'm working.

I'll wait.

I don't have time to chat
with schoolgirls.

I'm not a schoolgirl, panzon.

Okay. Come on up here.

No. You come down.

What?

Look, I didn't come here
for fun or to flirt.

I've done some paintings

which I want you
to look over professionally,

and I need an absolutely
straightforward opinion

of my work.

You were that girl
in the auditorium.

Yes, I was, but that has
nothing to do with now.

I just want
your serious opinion.

What... what do you care
about my opinion?

If you're a real painter,
you'll paint

because you can't live
without painting.

You'll paint
till you die, okay?

I have to work
to earn a living,

so I don't have time
to fool around just for vanity.

If I'm not good enough,

I have to do something else
to help my parents.

Leave the best one here.

Go home and paint another one.

If this one's any good,

I'll come and look at that one
on my day off.

Orozco is a true artist.

He's tremendous.

And Siqueiros could be great

if he'd pull his head out
of his own ass and look around.

Comrade Rivera.

What a nice surprise.

What if I told you

that easel painting like yours
is finished,

that it's headed
for the trash

like other elitist,
bourgeois pastimes?

I'd say cut the propaganda.

This is very good work.

You have real talent.

Oh, come on.

I'm not looking
for your compliments.

I want a serious critique.

But I'm being sincere.

These are
very original paintings...

none of the usual tricks.

But that's...
that's not specific.

You have to trust
a true compliment

as much as a critique.

Yeah, well, some people
have told me not to trust

what you say.

They say if a girl asks
your opinion,

and she's not
a complete fright,

you'll gush all over her.

I need you to tell me
one thing honestly...

do you actually believe
that I should continue to paint?

Yes.

Yes.

You'll like Tina.

She's a brilliant
photographer,

one of the few
with real taste.

Do you know Alvarez Bravo?

I know his work.
It's good.

I'll introduce you to him.
He'll want to photograph you.

Without clothes, of course.

Of course.

That's the thing
about these radicals.

They're a little dangerous,

but they definitely throw
the best parties.

Ah, at last!

The monster!

Tina!

This is Frida Kahlo.

She's a wonderful painter.

She wants to be
a wonderful painter.

Oh, don't be shy.

Nobody really thinks their own
stuff is good except Diego.

He's the only one who's sure.

Go find Siqueiros.

He's been bad-mouthing you
again.

You come with me.

Great party.

Everybody, I have someone
for you to meet.

This is Frida Kahlo.

She came with Diego.

Another pretty girl...

She's quite a talent, no?

Julio Mella, the Cuban.

Tina took the last photo
of him.

She was with him on the street
when they gunned him down.

Incredible.

They're like clay
in his hands.

It must be that body.

No.

It's the way he looks
at you...

and finds beauty
in all your imperfections.

It's irresistible.

You'd never think it
to look at him,

but he's had
half the women here.

I'm sorry.
Did you come with him?

Oh, n...
we're just friends.

I'm Frida Kahlo.

I'm a painter.

A painter. No wonder.
Mm-hmm.

I'm Lupe Mar� n.

I'm his wife.

Ah...

I was his wife.

Good luck to you.

Bad-mouth him
all you want, Diego.

But while we have been talking
about socialism

over drinks at parties
for 10 years,

Stalin is making it work.

He's achieving it.

Achieving what?

His only big idea so far

is to throw out all
the real thinkers in the land.

But he...
he just threw you out.

No. Not just me.

No, not just you.

Mr. Trotsky... a man
who plays the martyr

when, in truth, he was rejected
by his own country.

- Good riddance.
- No.

He had to run for his life.
Stalin would have had him shot.

That's his version
of socialism...

kill anyone
who disagrees with you.

Well, some people have to get
shot in a revolution, you know.

Well, I prefer evolution.

Educate the poor.
Mobilize the workers.

Rise like a slow tide.

But you...
you'll have your revolution

and kill half the poor
to save them.

Diego, this from a Communist
who's getting rich

painting for the government
and wealthy patrons?

I can't help it
if the rich have good taste.

The rich don't have
good taste.

They pay someone
to have good taste for them.

And they don't hire you
because you are good.

They hire you because you
assuage their sense of guilt.

They use you, Diego,

and you are too vain
to see it.

- No!
- Diego, no!

What are you doing?

Basta.

Whoever takes the biggest
swig can dance with me.

Bravo.

Diego, let's see...

I'd rather have
an intelligent enemy

than a stupid friend.

Oh!

It's more
than the man, no?

Shall we?

* The night will go by *

* Without hurrying nostalgia *

* Our wound will be a tango *

* Our souls
a bleeding accordion *

* We will be tonight
all day long *

* Come back to me *

* Love me in the dark *

* In our blue room *

* Where there was no sun
for us *

* Blind me *

* Kill my heart *

* In our blue room *

* My *

* My love *

The village, united,

advance to the defeated!

The village, united,
advance to the defeated!

The village, united,
advance to the defeated!

...and more women.

Next time I'll make sure
that happens, okay?

Miss Kahlo.

You may have to hold me up.

That Torres is a good man,

but he's got to be
much more careful.

What is this, your studio?

One of the benefits
of being party leader...

you can arrange for the drinking
to be done close to home.

And now that you are
officially a comrade,

I believe I can let you see it,
if you like.

Hey, listen.

If you think
I'm going to sleep with you

just because you've taken me
under your wing,

you're wrong.

Me?

I was painting murals

and womanizing in peace
when you came along.

Anyway, sex is like pissing.

People take it
much too seriously.

In Russia... oh, my God...

in Russia, everyone was
fucking like rabbits.

Well, this isn't Russia.

No, thank Christ.

I have a proposal.

We will not sleep together.

We will solemnly swear,
right here, right now,

that we will be friends only.

Fine.

Comrades... colleagues...

and friends forever.

Did you arrange for that?

Cost me a fortune.

I have a scar.

Let me see it.

You're perfect.

Perfect.

Mmm!

I always wanted a man
with melones bigger than mine.

You know
what I've always loved?

What?

A girl with cojones.

Aah!

Ooh!

Aah!

- Aah!
- Oh!

These are good, Frida.
I love them.

Hmm.

And you were probably painting
better when you were 12.

That's nonsense.

I could never paint like this.

Oh.

I couldn't.
I-I'm serious.

I paint what I see...
the world outside.

But you...

you paint from here.

It's wonderful.

I can see why you're
so successful with women.

We'll have to get married,
you know.

What?

The thing is...

I think it's quite possible

that we were born
for each other,

so we should marry.

But you don't believe
in marriage.

Of course I do.
I've had two wives already.

Exactly.

You can't be true
to only one woman.

True, yes.

Faithful... no.

Unfortunately,

I'm physiologically incapable
of fidelity.

- Oh, really?
- Yes.

A doctor acquaintance of mine
confirmed this.

What a convenient diagnosis.

Is fidelity that important
to you?

Loyalty is important to me.

Can you be loyal?

To you?

Always.

Good.

Because I love you, panzon.

Fridocha.

I accept.

What a beautiful bride
you are.

- You have to come in.
- Don't touch me.

Oh, you think
I'm going to, uh...

But he's divorced twice.

He's had God knows
how many children.

And he's an atheist,
Guillermo.

Perhaps you have forgotten,

and forgive me
for reminding you,

but I am a German Jew,
and you married me, remember?

Yes.

Hmm.

He's also a Communist.

A Communist
who is generous enough

to pay off our mortgage.

It's like the marriage
of an elephant and a dove.

Your toe.

It's been a long time.

I don't want to talk.

I told you
I wanted you to come.

- I don't want to talk.
- Please!

Please.

Cris... Cristina!

Stay here!

I give them... six months.

Six?

I give them two.

I don't believe in marriage.

No, I really don't.

Let me be clear about that.

I think at worst
it's a hostile political act,

a way for small-minded men
to keep women in the house

and out of the way,

wrapped up in the guise
of tradition

and conservative
religious nonsense.

At best,
it's a happy delusion...

these two people
who truly love each other

and have no idea

how truly miserable they're
about to make each other.

But...

But...

when two people know that,

and they decide
with eyes wide open

to face each other
and get married anyway,

then I don't think
it's conservative or delusional.

I think it's radical
and courageous

and very romantic.

To Diego and Frida.

Diego and Frida.

Aah!

You're crazy!

You know that?

You're crazy.

You son of a bitch!

Who cares?

Ah!

You like these legs?

Oh, Lupe. Lupe, no.

You like those legs, Diego?

You give up these beauties...

for these matchsticks?

This peg leg?

Look! Look!

Viva la revolucion.

Ay!

My mother was wrong
about you, you know?

She said you were an elephant.

But you're not.

Elephants are strong
and courageous,

and they defend their mates.

You are a toad.
You even look like a toad.

And you look like a dog.

Dove! Dove!
Did I say "dog"?

No, I meant "dove."

You are my little paloma.

What will
people say about such a pair?

They'll have never seen
a better match.

Thank you.

For what?

For making a fat, old,
crazy Communist a happy man.

Ohh.

Sit. Eat.

Mi amor!

Mmm!

Good, huh?

Mmm!

What a wonderful morning!

Lupe's special recipe.

Well, you've mastered it.

I can't cook to save my life.

She brought it down for us
while you were sleeping.

- Brought it down?
- Mm-hmm.

She's in the apartment upstairs
with my kids.

I let her have it
till she finds a place in town.

I'm not just passing through,
you know?!

I'm here to stay!

Is that what you came
to tell me?

I'm here to stay.

So stay out of
my damn kitchen.

You like my mole?

So-so.

Well, he lives for it.

So if you're here to stay,
you better learn how to make it.

I was so angry.

He didn't come home
for three days.

Pass me the cilantro.

So, I took two
of his damn Aztec idols...

that he adores, you know...

And I smashed
the pieces of clay

in the boiling pot
of beef stock

and told him
it was sopa Azteca.

Liar!

Did he eat it?

He did.

Did he like it?

He loved it.

Of course,
until he found out.

Then he got sick.
He got furious. Oof!

It didn't make me feel
any better.

And it definitely didn't
stop him from cheating.

But what the hell?

Mama.

Brute!

Get out!

Come on!

Ven aqui.

Oh...

Marie.

- Come on. Let's go.
- S�, se�ora.

Quit it.

Eh?

Time for your nap.

The other night...
I was very drunk.

I know.

It's all right.

Ay, ni�a, Diego has never
belonged to anybody.

He belongs only to himself.

And that, of course, is what
makes him so desirable.

He's the best of friends
and the worst of husbands.

Diego will never be
anyone's husband.

Not really.

We'll see.

You'll know it's over

when he gets the next commission
out of town.

He'll say he'll send for you,
then he never does.

Se�ora Rivera?

- Yes?
- Yes?

What do you think?

The tits lack...

gravity.

Oh, come on.

Eat your posole
while it's still hot.

It's not like you to be late
for lunch, Diego.

Uh, I was at the ministry

explaining why a history
of the Mexican people

is an appropriate subject
for the Mexican National Palace.

Again?

When I work,
they scream about my politics.

When I don't work,
they scream about the delays.

It's a farce.

Ugh.

Diego, son of a bitch!

That model, huh?

Yes.

It was just a fuck,
that's all.

I've given more affection
in a handshake.

Well, that makes me feel
so much better.

Was she good, at least?

Not very.

Too bad.

She had such a great ass.

When you get home,
take a good bath.

We're going out tonight.

* And now, yes, wicked witch *

* You already sucked my son *

* You already sucked my son *

* And now, yes, wicked witch *

* And now you're going
to suck him *

* Your husband's navel *

* Your husband's navel *

* And now you're going
to suck him *

* The witch grabs me,
she takes me to headquarters *

* She turns me into
a flowerpot, and she feeds me *

* The witch grabs me,
she takes me to headquarters *

* She sits me on her legs,
and she gives me kisses *

* Tell me, tell me,
tell me, you *

* How many creatures
have you sucked? *

* None, none, none,
can't you see? *

* I intend to suck you *

More tequila!

Rivera!

Hey!

Yeah, you.

You know what I think of you
and your stinking murals?

Why don't you get the fuck
out of here, huh?

This is a bar for workers,
not for government whores.

Aah!

Aah! Ah ha ha!

Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay!

I tell you, that kid
was one of Siqueiros' boys.

Siqueiros is a hero
to these fucks,

but what's he actually done?
Nothing!

I put socialism
on the government walls.

I've got the fascists
calling me

the most dangerous subversive
in the country,

and I'm the traitor
to the party?

Soon we'll have no one left
to drink with.

It's not funny.

I'm not kidding.

Tina says they'll kick you
out of the party

for the Palace mural.

They won't have to.
I quit.

So you'll quit
and keep on working.

That's all that matters
to you anyway.

I've been offered a show
in New York.

A solo exhibition
at the new Modern Museum.

It would be
a wonderful entree.

I could get commissions
out of it.

I thought you'd be excited.

They don't care that
you're a Communist pig?

They can't afford to.

All the greatest painters
are Communist pigs.

That's wonderful, Diego.

When do you leave?

As soon as you decide
to come with me.

Oh, my little monster!

We'll take Gringolandia
by storm.

Dear Cristi,

the invasion
of Gringolandia has begun.

They are never gonna know
what hit them.

New York has Diego on fire.

What's your impression
of New York, Mr. Rivera?

Magnificent.

There is no reason
why any artist born

in our two continents should go
to Europe for inspiration.

It is all here...

the might, the power,
the energy.

The sadness.

The glory and youthfulness
of our American lands.

I see the majesty
that Diego sees.

But all that American comfort
is a myth.

While the rich drink
their coctelitos,

thousands are starving.

Diego is working
almost constantly

to prepare for his show,

so I have to find ways
to entertain myself.

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Breaking all records,

over 50,000 people
have lined up

outside New York's
new Museum of Modern Art

to see the paintings
of Mexico's greatest artist...

Diego Rivera...

...the most-talked-about man
this side of the Rio Grande.

Se�or Diego Rivera!

The gringos
are friendly enough,

but the most important thing
in Gringolandia

is to have ambition...

to succeed
in becoming somebody.

And the somebodies

are the only ones
that interest them.

I despise this pretension.

This big shit
interests me not at all.

Of course, Diego loves it.

He's like a big Mexican pi�ata
with enough candy for everyone.

Everything about this country
inspires him.

Two loose eggs,
hot cinnamon bun,

two black coffees...
anything else?

- That's fine.
- Thank you.

Okay.

Are you guys ready?
Hmm?

Well...

I never thought
I'd hear myself say this...

but you were better
than your husband.

You weren't upset about that,
were you?

I mean he... he said
you wouldn't be.

Oh, he did, did he?

Well, you weren't the first,
and you won't be the last.

Why do you put up with it?

Look, Diego's how he is,

and that's how I love him.

I cannot love him
for what he's not.

Anyway...

my sweet Gracie...

I get along just fine.

- Congratulations.
- Thank you.

Over here.
Can we get your picture?

Mr. Rivera.

That's a lot of wall.

It's all there is.

Gentlemen, please. Please,
I have to get back to work.

I'm sorry.

- Thank you.
- Thank you very much.

Are you a painter too,
Mrs. Rivera?

No. Just killing time.

She's much better than me.

You'll see.

What did the doctor say?

He might be able
to improve the pain,

but the bones
would have to be reset.

Blah, blah, blah.
Blah, blah, blah.

The usual speech.
I know it by heart.

I'm pregnant.

Oh.

Can your body take it?

If it can take you, it can take
a little Dieguito.

No, no, Frida.

He's not very optimistic.

This is not...

I-I c-can't bear
to think of you in pain.

I'm used to pain.

This is not...

I'm not a good example of...

It's not a good time.

There's the Rockefeller
commission.

Detroit. Chicago.

All that traveling.

No, it's... it's too much.

You really want this baby,
Frida?

I do.

All right.

All right?

All right, let's try
and have this baby.

Shh, shh, shh.
Listen, listen.

Hmm.

He's reciting
The Communist Manifesto.

Hoy!

She's lost a lot of blood.

I want to see her!

She needs to sleep.

You should go home and try
and get some rest.

Frida!

You should be in bed,
Mrs. Rivera.

The baby came out in pieces.

Come with me.
Let's go back to bed.

It never formed properly.

We can try again,
but you must rest.

- Mrs. Rivera...
- But he's my son.

Mrs. Rivera.

I want to see him!

What did you do with him?!

I want to see my son!

Mr. Rivera, please...

What did you do with him?!

All right, chiquita,
I'll take care of it.

Diego...

I promise. I promise.

What the hell is this?

Breakfast.

You trying to kill me?

I need fuel to work.

Listen, panzon,
if you get any fatter,

it's going to be you
in the hospital next time.

You know,
I don't believe in God,

but I still thank him every day
that he kept you safe for me.

Hmm, really?

I tell him he's got
a lot of explaining to do.

From now on, I'm going to
get Happy Rockefeller

to bring my breakfast
over from 21.

Uh-oh.

Frida?

Frida...

You are here.

I left him.

And that was his parting gift?

I should have
been there for you.

You're here now.

She'll throw a fit
if I let her damn plants die.

We fought so much.

Sometimes I...

sometimes I would regret
that I ever married her.

I would think how I hated her.

You do enough damage
to one another,

you begin to think that way.

Well, then she gets sick and...
I tend her garden.

The soul of our sister, Matilde,

rest in peace.

In the name of the Father,
the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

Our Father, who art in Heaven,
hallowed be Thy name.

Thy kingdom come,

Thy will be done on Earth
as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day
our daily bread...

You'd seen my work.

You knew my politics
when you hired me.

Yeah, I showed you
the sketches.

I discussed them with you
and your father.

What were you expecting from me?
A line of dancing girls?

No, but nor was I expecting
a portrait of Lenin.

Now, let's be honest.

In the sketches that
you showed me originally,

it was just
some anonymous worker.

He transformed himself into
Lenin of his own accord.

No, you transformed him
into Lenin

because they took shots
at us in the paper!

Do you really think
that my family

is influenced
by newspaper hacks?

I would've defended you.

I will defend you
against any attack

because the work is thrilling.

As always.

But a portrait
of Vladimir Lenin

will offend many people...

in particular, my father.

You see, you're putting me
in an impossible position.

So I'm asking you to please
change this one detail.

It's against my principles.

Yes, well, you've adjusted
your principles

to come to our parties
and eat at our table,

so I hope
you will reconsider.

- Go home!

Go home!

You've got quite a crowd
out there.

Half of them think
you're the devil...

Half of them think
you're a hero.

Tell me honestly
what you think.

If you lie down with dogs,
you should expect fleas.

No, seriously.
This is really frightening me.

Why?

Because I'm actually
wondering if he's right.

Perhaps I am being foolish,
risking too much.

Diego, you can't lose.

Forget about
artistic integrity.

You've done better ones
than this, and you'll do more.

But whatever happens,
you have aroused people.

You've made them get passionate
about their ideals.

There's not another painter
in the world who can say that.

He could walk in here tomorrow
and tear it down.

You'd still have won.

Ah, maybe.

He doesn't have the balls.

Diego!

Se�or Rivera.

I must ask you one last time
to reconsider your position.

I will not compromise
my vision.

In that case...

this is your fee,

paid in full, as agreed.

But your services
are no longer required.

It's my painting!

On my wall.

It's the people's wall!
You bastard!

Diego, let's go home.

Frida, we have to fight
these bastards.

They tore down the wall,
but the painting is up here.

I'll do it again,
and I'll use his money!

What money? We don't even have
enough to get to Chicago.

We're not going to Chicago.
They canceled the commission.

It's time to go home.

What?!

With my tail between my legs?

We don't belong here.

I am tired of these people,

and I am tired of
who you are around them.

See that?!

Hmm? You want to
go back to that?!

Yes!
I want to go back to that!

Ahh.

I'm working.

I can see that.

I brought you some lunch.

The doctor says you should
eat more, for once.

Puta madre!

Diego.

All right, that's enough.

Diego!

Diego, stop!

Lord X olotl...

prince of darkness.

You're the best
art critic there is.

Only you see what shit
this country has made of me.

Diego...

You need help.

Frida, why do you and
Diego have separate houses?

Because we are
two different people,

but our love makes us
into one.

That's why we have the bridge.

So, you mean,
the bridge is your love?

Yeah.
That's a good way to put it.

Then why is it such
a small bridge?

He's not working.
He's sick.

He's depressed.

He says the people
in this country are like mules

they're so stupid.

And he blames it all on me
for making him come back.

That's ridiculous.

Still, you are lucky
to have him.

I feel so desperate every day.

Sometimes I even think
of going back.

Well, you're not.

What about a job?

You could help me out
organizing Diego's studio.

Where do I start?

Don't touch anything.

Diego...

Don't worry.
He's a pussycat.

Shh.

Go downstairs and play.

- Now!

- Now!
- Oh, my God.

Ay!

My goddamn sister!

You're an animal!

Son of a bitch!

Frida... Fri...

Get out! Get out!

- Frida.

Frida.

I'm a beast.

Yes.

I-I-I-I'm an idiot, but it meant
nothing, Frida, nothing.

Frida, talk to me!

There have been two big
accidents in my life, Diego...

the trolley and you.

You are by far the worst.

Get out!

Out! Out! Go!

It's a limp up three flights
of stairs,

I can't afford any furniture,
and it's cold at night.

But at least I know who's
fucking who in my own house.

Diego's not giving you
any money?

I'd rather be poor.

She was my sister...

not some model.

My own sister.

To hell with him.

To hell with him.

Find some work.
Pay your own bills for a while.

I'll sell some paintings.

Not enough to cover
your bar bill.

No, don't get me wrong...
I love your paintings...

I'm just not sure you should
count on them for a living.

They're tough, you know.

I mean, look at this.

What the hell is this?

It was in the damn papers.

A man stabbed his wife
22 times,

and when the judge asked him
why he did it,

he said, "But it was just
a few small nips."

Oh.

Mmh.

Who's that?

The ghost of Frida Kahlo.

Oh...

I remember her.

How are you?

Lonely.

Only you ghosts come
to visit these days.

So...

how is your Diego?

I don't know why
I called him that.

He was never mine.
Never will be.

But he's fine.
Painting, I guess.

And you?
Are you also painting?

Yes.

And I want you to pose for me.

You don't even have to
leave the house.

I want to leave the house.

All right, then.

We'll go somewhere different
every day.

That sounds good.

You've painted everyone else
in the family.

Yes.

A long time ago.

Remind me what I wanted then.

You wanted to be
your own person.

Frida...

She never liked you, you know.

She told me you would only
bring me troubles.

There is something
I must discuss with you...

A favor I need to ask of you.

You've got a lot of nerve

to come here asking me
to do you favors.

No, it's not for me.
It's Trotsky.

The Norwegians
have expelled him,

no other country
will take him,

and Stalin wants him dead.

I have appealed
to President Cardenas myself.

They have granted him asylum
here in Mexico.

I want you to welcome him
with me.

Let him live
in your father's house.

I know it's a lot to ask,

but this is a difficult
transition for them.

And you, Frida...

you bring life and warmth
to any place.

Anyway...

Trotsky is a very great man
in enormous danger,

and we have the opportunity
to help him.

Yes, all right.

Such commotion.

I don't understand...

such a commotion
for a philosopher.

A very great man, Papa.

A true revolutionary.

It's an important service
we're doing.

If you admire him,
why don't you advise him

not to get involved
in politics?

Politics are ruinous.

Good advice, Papa.

I'm sure he'll agree.

I regret it was not possible
for me to meet you at your boat.

Natalia and I,
we are deeply indebted to you

for your generosity
in these difficult times.

Your charming wife,

she has made the last leg
of our trip such a delight.

We are profoundly honored

to have you and your wife
in our home.

Ay, Diego, they're starving.
Let's feed them.

Thank you.

No, i-it's true!
It's true!

I could not believe it!
These people are idiots!

They scream about
Hitler's aggression,

a-a-and then sing
Stalin's praises.

Aren't they the same creature?

Yes, but not exactly.

Of course
they are both monsters,

but Hitler at least
is a madman with a vision.

Vision? He's insane!

Of course he is insane,

but he has the ability
to mobilize the people's minds,

whereas Stalin, he's...
he is so dull.

There is the brutality,

but when you get
right down to it,

Stalin is nothing
but a bureaucrat,

and that is what is
smothering our revolution.

They are the same,

but only in that the insanity
of power has overruled them.

And between them,

they will consume
the continent.

Madness.

Yes... but a challenge.

Look at us...
Mexican, Russian, French...

in this wonderful new planet
Rivera.

I tell you this, my friends,

in the experience
of my lifetime,

the failure and the pain

have certainly outstripped
the triumphs.

But this has not only
not destroyed my faith...

my faith in reason, in truth,
in human solidarity...

but, on the contrary,

it has made it
indestructible.

I see the hope of the world
in you,

and, from my heart,
I thank you.

Na zdorov'ya!

- Na zdorov'ya!
- Na zdorov'ya!

- Salud!
- Salud!

Imagine living your life
like that...

with a price on your head...
and staying so calm.

Yes.

Good night, Diego.

Whoo.

Oh, stop it, Andre.
I hate flattery.

I don't care.
It is wonderful, wonderful work.

You've seen all these,
I take it?

Of course.
I tell her all the time.

Julian Levy took a couple
of her paintings to New York

and sold both of them,

and she sold another four
to that actor...

t-t-the gangster.

Edward G. Robinson.

Yeah, for $200 apiece.

He was robbed.

We haven't been able
to fool anyone else.

My little paintings can't mean
anything to anyone but me.

Stop!

Get down!

They put a bag by the door!
Get back!

- Let's get inside.
- Get back!

- Inside, quickly.
- There is no time.

- Cover him! Hurry!
- Inside. Everybody inside.

- Take him inside!
- Frida!

Frida, what are you doing?!

Hallowed be Thy name...

I give you five seconds
to get out of here.

One!

- Two!

It's all right.

It's all right.

Sorry about that.

It was my mother's sisters.

What do you mean?

They were leaving icons
and sprinkling holy water.

They think this house
is cursed,

and that you
are the antichrist.

I want you to think
about it seriously.

You could be part of the
Mexican exhibition in Paris.

What I really want is a show
in my own country.

Which they will give you

once you become famous
somewhere else.

Your paintings should be seen.

So, who is coming up with me?

It's harder than you think.

Ah, everything
is harder than we think.

I'll go.

Are you sure?

If an old man can do it,
why not a cripple?

No, no, no, no.
It's okay.

I don't think assassins
are awaiting at the top.

I'll race you.

Frida...

how were you hurt?

I couldn't even tell you
anymore.

I've been cut into, rebroke,
and reset so many times.

I'm like a jigsaw puzzle.

And all the operations
have done more damage

than the accident,
for all I know.

Everything hurts.

But the leg...
the leg is the worst.

But I'm all right.

At the end of the day,

we can endure much more
than we think we can.

That's what I loved
about your paintings...

that they carry that message.

You said that nobody
would care about them,

but I think you are wrong...

because your paintings express
what everyone feels...

that they are alone in pain.

Maybe.

Leon...

tell me about your children.

My children.

We knew the girls had been
murdered and one of the boys.

We thought the other
was still alive in the prison.

But that letter came.

He was executed, too.

They are all gone.

I have condemned my family...

as I am condemned.

You mustn't say that.

But it's true.

Stalin has more power
than any tsar.

I'm alone with few friends
and no resources

against the world's biggest
killing machine.

So what can I do
but keep on working... living.

You cannot imagine what a joy
it is for me to be here,

to see all this.

It is the first time I felt
like a real person in years.

In his book
"State and Revolution,"

Lenin purged from the genuine
teaching of Karl Marx

all the spurious ingredients

introduced
by the social democracy.

John, I am picking it up
from "social democracy."

Frida.

This is the book I mentioned.

Tell me what you think.

Thank you.

I'll be back in an hour.

No, no, no, no, no.
It is better this way.

We will stop disrupting
your lives.

We're not going far,
just around the corner.

I wish you would reconsider,
if only for security.

We will be more than safe.
Trust me.

Do svidaniya.

Many thanks, my friend.

We'll see you soon.

Natalia...

It makes no sense.
It was for his own well-being.

He's not thinking
of his well-being.

He's thinking of hers.

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about somebody

willing to sacrifice a little
of their own pleasure

rather than go on hurting
the woman who loves him.

Have you lost your mind?!

Go to hell, Diego.

You know what the consequences
of this could be?

He's not scared.
Why should you be?

Oh, dear, God, Frida,
of all people, why?!

Because we wanted to.

You've broken my heart, Frida.

It hurts, doesn't it?

But why?

It was just a fuck,
like a handshake.

I told you who I was
when you married me.

Yes, you did,
and I married you anyway,

and you promised to be loyal.

You've been my comrade,

my fellow artist,

my best friend.

But you've never been
my husband.

Fridocha...

"Dear Diego,
how are you, panzon?

Why didn't you tell me Paris
was such a nightmare?"

"The French are the most
pretentious bores in the world.

"I'd rather sit on the floor
of a market in Toluca

"selling tortillas

"than have to listen
to the prattling

of the artistic bitches
of Paris."

"There really hasn't been
as much interest

in the exhibition
as Breton promised."

"Mexican artists are nothing
but an exotic curiosity here."

"All in all,
it's been lonely,

and I crave news from home."

"Diego, this letter is a lie.

"Paris has been good to me.

"But without you,
it means nothing.

"All the rage of our 12 years
together passes through me,

"and I'm left knowing that I
love you more than my own skin.

"And though
you may not love me as much,

"you do love me a little,
don't you?

"If this is not true,

"I'll always be hopeful
that it could be.

"I adore you.

Frida."

There are rumors going around
that I wanted Trotsky killed.

We fought lately, it's true,
but...

They may try
to arrest me again.

Talk to the president.

No.

No, I'm going to California.

- California?
- Yes.

And, Frida...

I want us to divorce.

For who...

that American actress?

Jesus, Diego.

No, Frida, no.

It will be better this way.

We have both done better
as friends.

- I haven't.
- You have.

You're doing very well
on your own.

I'm proud of you.
You don't need...

If you want to go, just go.

Listen to me...

I don't particularly care
for Mr. Trotsky,

but we can't go around
having political refugees

murdered in our country.

Now, can we?

Once more,
where is your husband?

I don't have a husband.

Frida?

Oh, my God.

Cristi.

I'm so sorry.

Oh.

It was not your fault.
It was mine.

I should have never put you
in the room with him.

What did you do
to get me out of here?

Diego. He went crazy
when he heard.

He called President Cardenas
immediately.

Ay.

Diego.

Not much more.

How long has your foot
been like this?

Who knows? Let's take
one disaster at a time.

Just patch me up
so I can paint, please.

These are gangrened.

They'll have to come off.

You're lucky it hasn't spread
to your leg.

You've lost weight.

Ah.

You've lost your toes.

Is that why you're here...

to offer your condolences?

I'm here to see how you are.

How do you feel?

Tired of answering
that question.

Otherwise, like shit.

How are you?

I'm...

I'm here to...

ask you to marry me.

I don't need rescuing, Diego.

I do.

I've lost the toes
of one foot.

My back is useless.

I have an infection
of the kidneys.

I smoke. I drink. I curse.

I can't have children.

I have no money,
and a stack of hospital bills.

Should I keep going?

That's practically a letter
of recommendation.

Frida...

Frida...

I miss... us.

They say you should never
believe a limping dog

or the tears of a woman.

They're wrong.

Cristina!

Come on!

Aaah!

"Feet, what do I need you for
if I have wings to fly?"

I want you to burn
this Judas of a body.

I don't want to be buried.

I've spent enough time
lying down.

Burn it.

Frida...

No, I don't think
I'm Frida anymore.

I think all the Frida in me
has disappeared.

Look at what's left.

Why do you stay?

You stupid girl.

Are you crazy?
I forbid it!

Stop it, Diego!
You can't force me to stay!

- Oh, yes, I can!
- Give it to me!

No, Frida!

No, we've been through
all this before!

I'm going, damn it!
Give me back my fucking leg!

Doctor, please help me.

What's going on here?

I told her
she had to stay in bed.

She demanded we call you.

- I'm going to my exhibition.
- Frida...

I've waited for a show in
my own country my whole life.

I'm not going to miss it.

If the bronchitis gets worse,
it will turn into pneumonia.

Frida, under no circumstances
are you to leave this bed.

I'll bring you back
all the gossip, I promise.

Cristina!

There was this skinny kid
with these eyebrows

shouting up at me,

"Diego, I want to show you
my paintings!"

But, of course,
she made me come down to her.

I did, and I've
never stopped looking.

But I want to speak about Frida
not as her husband,

but as an artist.

I admire her.

Her work is acid and tender...

hard as steel...

and fine
as a butterfly's wing.

Loveable as a smile...

cruel as...

the bitterness of life.

I-I-I don't believe...

that ever before has a woman

put such agonized poetry
on canvas.

Shut up, panzon.

Who died?

Where is the music?

You see, doctorcito,
I followed your orders.

I didn't leave my bed.

Frida.

Ay, doctor, if you let me
have this tequila,

I promise not to drink
at my funeral.

It's a deal.

To Frida!

To Frida!

Are you all right?

Lie down with me.

25 years together,
mi Dieguito.

Frida.

Happy silver.

It's not for two more weeks.

17 days.