All language subtitles for The.Distinguished.Citizen.2016.1080p.BRRip.x264.AC3.HORiZON-ArtSubs

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I will speak in Spanish.

I've got two mixed feelings
about receiving

the Nobel Prize in Literature.

On one hand, I m flattered.

Really flattered.

But on the other hand...

and this is the bitter feeling
prevailing within me,

I'm convinced that this type
of unanimous recognition

is directly
and unmistakably related

to the decline of an artist.

This prize proves...

that my work agrees
with the tastes and needs

of judges, specialists,

academics

and kings.

Obviously,

I'm the most
comfortable artist for you.

And that comfort...

has very little to do with the spirit
that every artistic work should have.

Artists are supposed to question,

to shock.

That's why I feel regret

about my final canonization
as an artist.

However,
the most persistent feeling,

mere pride,

hypocritically drives me

to thank you for deciding
the end of my creative adventure.

But please...

Don't think I'm blaming you
by saying this.

Nothing further from the truth.

There's only one to blame here.

And that's me.

Thank you very much.

FIVE YEARS LATER

Presentation of The Order
of the Aztec Eagle in Mexico.

Order of Merit
of the Italian Republic.

Signature of Letter for Peace with other
artists and world leaders in Israel.

Medal of honor by the German
Academy of Letters in Berlin.

Appointment to the Most Excellent
Order of the British Empire in London.

Opening of the Daniel Mantovani
Public Library in Barcelona.

THE DISTINGUISHED CITIZEN Lecture and book signing
at the 11th Writers Conference in Vienna, cancelled.

Launching of the Daniel Mantovani
Award for Best Novel in Mexico.

Meeting with Italian Prime Minister
in Milan.

Gala for civilian casualties
in Iraq with the Kings of Sweden

at the Stockholm Palace, cancelled.

Order of Merit
of the Italian Republic, cancelled.

Interview and photo shoot
for Argentine newspaper, cancelled.

Cocktail in his honor at the
Netherlands Embassy, cancelled.

Conference, lecture and book signing
in Istanbul, cancelled.

Opening of auditorium with his name

at the Fine Arts Academy in Spain,
cancelled.

Distinction as knight of the Order des
Arts et Lettres in France, cancelled.

Fund-raising dinner in honor of victims
of terrorism in Spain, cancelled.

Conference and book signing

at the Guadalajara Book Fair,
cancelled.

Charity event in Johannesburg with
South Africa k president, cancelled.

Doctor Honoris Causa distinction
at Yale University, cancelled.

Order of Arts and Letters recognition
in Lisbon, cancelled.

Medal of Honor by the Brazilian Academy of
Letters, cancelled. CHAPTER I THE INVITATION

- Sorry I'm late, Nuria.
- OK.

Tea for me, please, Aida.

Launch of your collected works
in Mandarin, in Peking.

- Conference and book signing.
- No.

Zagreb.
Lecture at Saint Stephen's orphanage.

No. What else?

Ahmed Elkos, the Pakistani director.
He won every single award.

He wants the rights
of "The Missing Face" to make a film.

- What should I tell him?
- No.

Are there no stories in Pakistan?
He should try writing.

That story has already been told.
What else?

This is from the Osaka University.
You should attend.

It's the third time
you've cancelled.

They reschedule
according to your agenda.

We'll see that later.

We still have
the BBC interview pending.

No, not for now.

This came from Argentina.
From Salas, your hometown.

From Salas? Are you sure?

They'd like you to give a lecture,
give you a distinction.

No lectures.
Especially not in Argentina.

This is from the Academy
of Language in Warsaw.

- When is it?
- What?

- The event in Argentina. When is it?
- Let's see.

Let me see.

The invitation...

- It's for next week.-
Next week?

April 11th to the 15th.
Four days.

They want to appoint you
Distinguished Citizen of Salas.

And they'd like you to give a lecture
during the town's anniversary.

Salas...

Let me see that, please.

You haven't been there
in a very long time, right?

Is it a long time
since you've been there?

Yes, almost forty years.
I left when I was twenty

and I never came back.

I guess all I did my entire life
was trying to escape from that place.

My characters were never able to leave.
I was never able to come back.

Are you planning to go?

No!

No way!

Let's go on.

I've received a lot of emails
and calls from your publisher.

Vicente. What does he say?

The usual.
He beats around the bush,

but he discreetly wants to know
whether you're writing.

Tell him I'm always writing.

Letters, lectures, prologues,
recommendations, obituaries.

If he wants, I can put it all together
and send it to him.

Tell him when I have something,
he'll be the first one to know.

- Okay?
- Will do.

Your accountant called
several times.

He wants to meet with you
before the end of the month.

He's settled everything in the US
and in Canada. He needs to close Spain.

He's having some issues
with the German brokers...

He needs to talk to you...

ifs Richard Anvil,
from Anvil Books, New York.

No.

- Are we done here?
- Okay.

Hello, Nuria.

I'm sorry. No, no, ifs nothing.
Could you come by?

No, no, nothing happened.

Right now, yes.

AS SOON as YOU can.

Fine.

Thank you.

I'm going.

I'm going.

Where are you going?

To Salas.

To that event in Argentina?

- But that's next week.
- Yes.

All of your engagements
are confirmed.

Clear my agenda for those days.

- Are you sure you're going?
- Yes, I'm sure.

Sure?

- Yes.
- Yes. Fine. Okay.

I'll cancel everything,
get the tickets and we're off.

I'm going on my own.

Wouldn't it be better
if I went with you as always?

- In case you need anything.
- This time, I'd rather go alone.

- Wouldn't it be better if I went?
- Alone.

And no one has to know.

Neither here nor in Argentina.
No reporters.

Are you sure?

Alone.

That's the end of the matter.

Dear passengers, this is Captain
Caporozzi speaking.

I wanted to inform you
that flying with us today

is the Argentinean writer
Daniel Mantovani,

Nobel laureate in Literature.

Mr. Mantovani, on behalf
of the company and the crew,

ifs an honor to have you on board.
Thank you very much.

MR. DANIEL M.

Hey, here.

Sit in the front, please.
I don't have a taxi permit.

I have to ask you
not to smoke in the car, please.

Alright.

It's a seven-hour drive
to Salas, right?

No, six.
I know a shortcut.

Flat tire.

- Will you replace it?
- No.

I haven't had a spare tire
in a long time.

How can you drive around
without one?

Can you call someone?
Do you have a cell phone?

No, I don't have one.
Do you?

No, I don't either.

How far are we?

A hundred kilometers, I guess.

- What are you planning to do?
- Nothing.

When they see we're not there,
they'll come for us.

Right.

That's if they look for us
in this shortcut no one knows about.

Damn it!

Here.

Maybe you can start it with paper.

Did you write that book?

Yes, but use it.
I have plenty to give away.

That's it.

Oh please!
What a corny image!

Burning up my own books
for survival.

- What's that?
- Nothing, never mind.

Tell me a story, Daniel.

Do you want me to tell you a story?

One of yours.

Two identical twins
lived in the same town,

and since they were
at loggerheads for a long time,

and didn't want to be confused
for one another,

one of them always grew a beard
and the other didn't.

The one with the beard
lived a very modest life.

Whereas the other one was wealthy,

and lived in a beautiful house

just opposite a huge foundry
which he owned.

Now and then, he received
the dubious visit

of fancy black cars from the city.

Both brothers

would often go
to the only cabaret in town.

Actually, during their last year,

the only thing they shared
was their obsession for the same woman,

a red-haired prostitute from Paraguay.

To share this relationship
was a torment, for both of them.

The wealthy brother convinced
the Paraguayan woman to marry him

and they moved in together.

The other brother was immersed
in an unbearable pain.

So one night, unexpectedly,

he went to the happy couple's house

claiming that he wanted to settle
their differences.

They went for a walk in the property
and they started to talk,

but out of the blue,
the one with the beard

took a piece of iron that was lying
around and delivered him...

a terrible, quick blow on the head.

His brother just dropped dead.

After that, he carried his body

and burnt it

in one of the ovens
in the foundry.

Finally.

He shaved his beard
very carefully

and got dressed
in his brother's clothes.

Half an hour later,

he opened the door of the house
where the Paraguayan woman

was expecting him for dinner.

The red-haired didn't notice
any difference.

Or who knows?

Maybe she pretended not to notice
out of convenience.

The fact is

that he spent
the best months of his life,

the happiest ones, with this woman.

Until one day, the men
from the city showed up

in their black cars,

and mistaking him
for his brother... boom!

They finished him off.

Apparently, to settle
old scores with him.

Of course,
he knew nothing about that.

Just like his brother's,
his body

was never, ever found.

- The end.-
That's it?

The red-haired kept everything.

Those were the Remoneda twins, right?

It's a story.

And the cabaret was "The Volcano".

Sir...

Sir!

Please wake up.

Let's go. I can't take it anymore.

I'll be right back.

Hey! Here!

Come on.

No, they were walking
down the road to Los Patos.

Near the Ostrosky's property.

Don't worry, he's fine.

Yes.
I'll tell him right now.

Bye, Cache...

The Mayor wants to apologize
and welcome you to Salas.

He'll come to see you in a bit.

No, no. I'll go see him
at the Town House later.

Excellent.

Bye, Daniel!

- Thank you very much.
- Thank you.

CHAPTER II
SALAS

Hello.

Well, this is it.

- Thank you for your company.
- Thank you, Daniel!

- See you later.
- See you later.

He's here.

Daniel!

- I'm so sorry about the driver!
- Don't worry. It's fine.

I don't know why we sent Ramon
Poor guy, he's...

It was quite an experience.

Thank you so much!
What an honor!

How nice!

Your first lecture is in the afternoon.
Then you have a TV interview.

At night, dinner and dance
at the Agricultural Association.

On Thursday morning,
you'll be judge at the painting contest,

here at the Municipality.
Then, your second lecture.

I'm already lost.

Don't worry.
We'll let you know.

From the list your assistant sent,
I couldn't get the latex mattress.

It's impossible
to get those here.

I ordered one in Santa Rosa,
but it hasn't arrived yet.

What did she ask for?

"The hotel mattress must be made
of latex foam.

Never polyurethane or springs."

What else is on that list?

"Mr. Mantovani's diet must include
steamed or grilled fish,

seasonal vegetables,
nothing fried or canned."

Perfect, all taken care of.

"Any religious meetings
or ceremonies shall be avoided,

no matter the creed.
As for social gatherings,

Mr. Mantovani prefers to give a
handshake instead of hugs and kisses.

He doesn't like to be photographed,
to sign books,

and it's best to avoid questions about his private life."

Everybody has been notified,
so don't worry.

- They're here.
- Who?

The firemen.
They're taking us to the Community Club

-for your first lecture.
- No, no, no.

I'm not a football star.
Let's walk there.

Daniel...

The firemen had prepared something
nice for last night, you know?

With the beauty queen and such.

They couldn't do it,
so they insisted on doing it now.

The firemen are here.

- The place is packed!
- Let's do it!

Let's begin!

The whale world Knows this man,

but only a few
know how it all started

on February 5th, 1954.

In Argentina,

in a small town,
734 kilometers from Buenos Aires,

called Salas,
a boy named Daniel

who was meant to transcend,
was bum.

As a young man, Titi,
as his friends called him,

risked it all

and set off with nothing
but his clothes on to the Old World

to fulfill his dream:
to become a writer.

Book by book, he made his way
and eventually became

a renowned man of letters
of worldwide fame.

But there was more to come.
The summit of his career.

The Nobel Prize in Literature.

With this, our dear Daniel

is now among the greatest figures

of worldwide literature
of all times.

His work has brought to tight
the people and the culture

of our town
everywhere in the world.

But these outstanding achievements
have not changed his personality.

His sense of humility and respect
absorbed during his childhood

in our beloved town
are still intact.

His mother, dear Mrs. Clara,

who departed this Hie 40 years ago,

and his father,
the memorable Mr. Victor,

who met up with her in Heaven
almost a decade later,

wherever they are,

they are surely proud and praising

their beloved only child.

Our child.
Salas's child.

You're great, Daniel, a master!

No crying, Daniel. No crying.
With joy.

I had a dream.

A crazy idea
that I wanted to realize.

Everybody said I was insane,
that there was no way

an outstanding figure like him
would listen to me and so on.

But this shows you
that with tenacity, with effort

and with imagination,

sometimes dreams come true.

All of us, common people,
working people,

we did it!

I'm thinking...

The people of Argentina
should be really proud!

Maradona, the Pope,

the Queen of the Netherlands,
Messi.

And now you, dear Daniel.

It's a pleasure for me
to present him

with the highest honor

given by the community of Salas:

The Distinguished Citizen medal

by the hand of our beauty queen!

And now, I give you

the Nobel laureate in Literature

and newly appointed
Distinguished Citizen of Salas,

Daniel Mantovani!

Oh, well...

My dear friends...

- Lucia? Are you Lucia?
- Yes.

She was my sixth grade teacher,
Lucia De Agostini.

We'll talk in a minute.

Hello everybody.

And thank you.

Yes, I'm the one
who made Salas famous.

I admit it. It was my fault.

Now seriously...

It's really moving for me

to be back in my town, our town.

To live it...

Because although

I've been living in Europe
for almost four decades,

I'm still from Salas.

Even if I didn't want to.

That's why this award
is different and unique.

And, in a way,
it's a lot more significant

than the Nobel Prize,
because the Nobel

was denied
to incredible writers, like Borges.

And between us,
the people from the Swedish Academy

wanted me to wear a pretty ridiculous
tuxedo to receive the prize,

and expected me to make a bow
to a king and a queen

in the 21st century.

Of course I refused.
I have no respect for monarchies.

However, this time
I'll make an exception

with our wonderful beauty queen
joining us this evening.

It is a huge honor to be appointed
Distinguished Citizen of Salas.

And I hope to represent
this award with dignity.

Greetings to everyone
and thank you very much.

- No! No pictures, no pictures.
- Yes. Let them snap a few.

Yes to pictures?

Let's take one then.

Listen, everyone. On the count
of three, we say cheese.

- One, two, three!
- Cheese!

One more, please!

Come closer.

That's it.

- Bravo!
- Good, very good!

I could use
the most profound reasoning.

However, I can only write
when I have something to say.

And that's exactly why I haven't
written for almost five years.

Are there any questions?

Yes?

Is it true that unhappiness
is the best state for artistic creation?

No, no. I don't think pain
can guarantee

great artistic creation.
No.

I mean, Rimbaud and van Gogh
had tortuous lives,

and yet they were incredibly creative,
but I could mention

magnificent artists who had
quiet and peaceful lives.

For example, Jorge Luis Borges.

Anyone else?

I read an article
in which you said the opposite.

You said something like:
"The most prosperous countries

have a less interesting
artistic production."

No, I don't think
I've ever said that.

I don't believe in the myth
of the tortured artist.

Thank you anyway.

Thank you because
it's a very good question.

If you all agree,
we're done for today.

Thank you very much for coming.
I look forward to seeing you tomorrow

and I hope you've enjoyed it
as much as I did.

Thank you.

- Thank you.
- Thank you, Mr. Requina.

He's a great local sculptor.
He has a stand in the market.

- José, why don't you...?
- Ovidio, you brought it!

Oh... Salas Sports Club.
Thank you very much.

Watch out!

Look, look, look.

Hello? One, two, three.
Your attention, please.

Mr. Daniel Mantovani,
be very careful.

Don't let yourself be fooled
by politicians who only want

a picture with you.
They're a fraud!

- Who's that?
- I'll take your stuff to the hotel.

- Titi!
- Antonio!

- Titi! Nice to see you!
- I can't believe this!

- Titi!
- No one has called me Titi for ages.

- How are you?
- Fine! Here in the countryside.

Working. Doing errands...

And you? Look at you!

You look great!
You haven't changed!

- Please, I've changed a lot.
- I swear!

Did you get married?
Did you have kids?

No, no. I never got married.
I've had some loves...

No kids. How about you?

I married Irene.

-Irene?
- Would you believe it?

- You don't say!
- You left and I kept your girlfriend.

We've been married
for twenty five years.

- I beat you.
- Irene... Good for you!

- Is she here now?
- No, no, Irene...

Irene is in the countryside.
She has a workshop

for poor children
in the middle of nowhere.

She comes and goes.
That's what she does.

Good.

How about dinner tonight?

Tonight I have a barbecue
at the Agricultural Association.

- I'm free tomorrow.
- Good, great, great.

- I'll make you a premium barbeque.
- Alright.

Susana, all yours. Attack.

- It will be a pleasure.
- Bye.

- I just need a few minutes.
- Sure. -Okay...

Good morning, Daniel.
From the local TV channel.

But... Good afternoon, I'm sorry.

Isn't it close?
Before Sarmiento St?

- Yes.
- I'll walk then.

I know exactly where it is.
Go ahead. Thank you.

- Good afternoon!
- Goodbye.

Hi.

Name and occupation?

Excuse me?

- Name and occupation?
- Daniel Mantovani.

Writer.

For the video graph.

I was the narrator
on the video you saw today.

It was really good.
Thank you!

Daniel, I have a simple
yet interesting question for you.

Why are you a writer?

Well, it's not that simple.
It's hard to answer to that. I guess...

writers, or artists in general,

don't accept the world as it is.

They feel reality is not enough

or it's not satisfying,

so they need to create,
to invent new things

to incorporate into the world.

Common, regular people

don't need that, they're happy
in the world as it is.

I don't know what's best.

Besides, I'm a writer
because I had no other choice.

I failed at everything else.

Daniel, how come in forty years
you never wanted to come back,

at least for a weekend?

I wanted to comeback, but...

with my eyes, not with my body.

Like someone watching a film.

Only with my eyes, my ears.

Beyond all possible pain.

To see the town
as from a movie theatre.

But, regardless of any metaphors,

what matters is I'm here.

What does the Nobel laureate,
Daniel Mantovani,

drink when he's thirsty?

He drinks juice San Miguel!
Made by Ricardo and Felipe Vicentini.

Orange, grapefruit and peach.

If it tastes good to the last drop,
it's juice San Miguel.

The juice that should be present
in every family table.

Well, Daniel, that's all.
Thank you for being here with us.

It was a huge honor
and a privilege

to have you here.
Thank you.

Alright.

Next up, we're on the phone
with the coordinator

of third-year students
at Don Bosco's School,

who travelled to Bahia Blanca...

- Sir, some juice?
- No, thank you.

Master! Do you know who I am?
I'm Renato Privitello.

- Aurelio Privitello's son.
- Nice to meet you.

Dad was Tomasito,
the kid on the bike...

who used to deliver orders.

- Who? I'm sorry.
- In your novel, "The Sand Giant",

there's a kid who delivers things
in his bicycle.

He's in several chapters.
That kid was my old man.

I'm glad. Anyway,
I remember the character, but...

Dad used to work with Mr. Gregorio.
He kept him really busy.

I wanted to tell you that I admire you
and I'm very proud that my dad

-is in one of your books.
- Thank you.

Dad is no longer with us,

but I'm sure
it'd be an honor for him.

In a way, you've made him immortal.

Well... Thank you.

- Would you sign this for me?
- Sure, of course.

Allow me...

Thank you so much.
Would you mind giving me a hug?

Sure, of course.

- Actually, Daniel...
- I have to go.

I wanted to invite you
to have lunch at my place.

Mom makes these ravioli
that are unique.

We'd like to honor you.
For us ifs a privilege.

You can imagine...
Let's make it Friday.

That's my free day at work.

I'll give you the address.

I live on Castelli...
Castelli 111.

Here. It's next to the police station.
There's a vacant lot on the other side.

This piece of paper is for you.
Keep it.

I'll see you Friday at half past
twelve or one.

Actually, I think it will be hard.
I'd say impossible,

because I have
a really busy schedule here.

I really appreciate it though, Renato.

It was a pleasure meeting you.

I have to go.

Nuria from Barcelona called.

Also a radio station
and a newspaper in Buenos Aires.

But don't worry.
I did what you asked.

- I said I didn't know who you were.
- Good.

You got some presents
and I took them to your room.

Thank you very much.

Okay, thank you.

Have a maté and lose weight
at the same time!

The only mix of maté herbs
that help you lose your pounds

Lose weight by drinking mate'!
Drink "Adelgamate"!

Final sale! Discounts up to 50%!

CHAPTER III
IRENE

Yes?

Tell her I'll be right down.

Irene.

We have a daughter.

- We live in a very pretty house.
- That's great!

I'm not saying Salas has become
a cool town. Not at all.

But Antonio and I
have a pleasant life and...

Oops. Pleasant?

You've picked a horrible adjective.

Why didn't you come to my lectures?

You're not interested in hearing
what I have to say, right?

Why would I go to your show?

Besides, I'm busy teaching
at a small school in Colonia Rawson.

- It's thirty kilometers from here.
- Don't treat me like a gringo.

I know Colonia Rawson
better than you do.

My mom and my aunts
were from there.

I used to go all the time
as a kid.

I teach Geography.

I also read them books

and I'm a counselor,
a psychologist, a cook.

These kids are isolated.

Their fathers work in farms,
so they need...

- Motivation.
- Right.

Yes, service.

Sorry?

I mean you provide a service.

It's really nice.
You help people.

Don't be cynical.
I know you.

- Did you bring your car?
- Yes.

I'd like to go to the lagoon.

A lagoon with no water
is pretty unique.

It's somehow charming.

Hello.
I need roadside assistance.

I don't know.
It won't start.

I was never able to write anything
about my life in Europe.

Nothing seemed inspiring to me.

The source of my stories
stayed in this town.

My childhood,
my adolescence, my youth.

The people.
This landscape.

You.

You'll make me cry.

What's taking these guys so long?

Oh, Cache.

- Who's Cacho?
- The Mayor.

Now, Irene, try.

That's it.

Good job!

Excuse me, Daniel,
I wanted to give you this folder.

They're stories written by me.
Short stories.

If you could read them...

Or read one of them,
I'd be honored.

So you're a writer? I'll be pleased
to read something local.

- I really appreciate it and I'm sorry.
- No reason to be sorry.

- What's your name?
- Ramiro.

Ramiro... Thank you for trusting me
with your work.

Yes?

"Democracy and happiness

bring about a mediocre
and prosaic literature.

Great literature comes from
unfair and violent communities,

where existential emptiness
is filled up with creativity."

Signed by Daniel Mantovani.

Berlin, May 1991.

I give up.

What's the matter with you?

I think you're a bit confused.

Do I need to tell you
I could be your father?

No, I'm feeling really bad.

I have a terrible headache.

I think I need some rest.

Yes, I know, I understand.

But it's impossible.
I really...

I won't be able to go.

What a shame!
That sounds great!

I'll have to miss it.
What can I do?

I do want to ask you...

to please apologize to them
on my behalf.

Thank you, Cacho.

Thanks. And please excuse me,
but I need to rest.

Hello?

Nine already?

Thank you.
Thank you very much.

Hey...

Hey, girl.

I'm sorry but you have to go.

Long live our country, Daniel!

Okay, people,
can we hurry up a little?

What about this one?

Méndez, the next one!

ACCEPTED/REJECTED

-<;Daniel?
- No.

Méndez??

No.

Rejected then.

-<;This one?
- No. No.

But it was painted by the wife
of Rivoli, the accountant.

It's a tie.
Méndez, your call.

Out. Next.

- Rejected.
- Rejected.

- But it's the Pope.
- Well...

Well, Méndez...

Yes, the technique is pretty lame.
Yes.

Okay, if we all agree,
ifs rejected.

Next one. Oh no.
That was the last one.

Wait, wait, wait.
Turn it around again.

See that?

Some people here paint
on whatever they have on hand.

Poor things. I tell them to get
canvases and frames, but...

Exactly.
Whoever painted this,

intentionally or not,
is hitting the nail on the head,

because with the poster in the back,

he manages to make this painting,

with a trivial
and poorly captured image,

to gain a different meaning.

Involuntarily, he's suggesting
a critical point of view.

I'm sorry, Daniel,

but I know this boy,
I know his parents,

and his work is just
the painting in the front,

-not in the back
- I know.

But it doesn't matter
what the artist wanted to do.

This painting should not be hanged
against a wall,

but in the middle of the room.

So that people can appreciate
both sides.

In my opinion, it should definitely
get the first prize.

It's a breath of fresh air.

He's right.

I totally agree with Mantovani.

First prize.

Okay, I have to go
get the minutes ready.

I'll be a while.

I'll be back.

No one shows any interest.
Nobody does anything.

That's not only the case in Salas.
You see people like that everywhere.

In New York,
in Amsterdam, in Berlin...

Dr. Florencio Romero,
president of SVAA.

SVAA, what's that?

Salas Visual Arts Association.

- That's great. Congratulations.
- Thank you.

Is it true that according to you

my painting is not good enough?

I see it's among the rejected ones

and maybe it was a mistake
or something...

Let me get this straight.
You're taking part in the contest,

and at the same time

you want to give your opinion
about what we choose?

No. Excuse me for having the audacity
to express my opinion.

Obviously I'm in no position
to say absolutely anything.

This is just what I imagined.

Because clearly, your pictorial taste

is completely subjected to customs
and traditions from abroad.

And that's what you're trying
to impose here,

along with your literature,

which is plagued
by resentment and hate

towards your own town,
your origins. You're a mediocre.

I'm sorry, but I will have
to ask you to leave

before I run out of patience.
That's enough.

- Enough!
- Okay, I'm leaving.

We'll see who has the final say.

What...?

I can't leave you alone.
Where are you going?

- To the hotel.
- I'll give you a ride.

Those are Romero's thugs.
They know they can't fuck with me.

Romero...
Yes, I had the pleasure to meet them.

Where did you come from?

Titi, let me know if these guys
give you a hard time, ok?

Thank you. See you.

Have you seen Irene?

Yesterday. Yes, we met.
We talked for a while, we caught up.

Good.

- And how did you find her?
- Fine, fine.

How did you find her?

She seemed really well
Irene is a very valuable woman.

It was really hard,
you know?

Really, really hard.

You had been gone for three years

and she was still hung up on you.

I remember one day...
We were already married...

I got home
and I found her crying...

Really sad.

She was reading your book.

She tried to hide it,
but I saw it.

She read all of your books.

She'd go to Buenos Aires to get them
or had them brought here.

She's followed you as she could...

all of her life.

Why am I telling you this?

Because you're my brother,
my friend...

and I want you to know
that all of this...

is now over.
It's in the past.

Forgotten, buried.

- Sure.
- Do you know what I mean?

- Absolutely.
- Do you follow me?

- We're really happy, Titi.
- You look happy.

I'll see you tonight.
Don't be late.

45 Belgrano St.

See you.

- Thank you.
- Excuse me, Daniel.

This wheelchair I'm talking about
is battery operated,

which would allow him
to fend for himself.

Do you know what that means
for a boy in his situation?

Let's get to the point, please.

We need 9800 dollars
to buy that wheelchair.

It's imported.

As you can imagine,
there's no way

we could collect that amount of money.

I'm unemployed.
My wife is a teacher.

We did everything
to get that wheelchair.

We went to every organization
you could think of and even more,

but to no avail, sir.
That's why I dared...

We dared to come to see you.

What for us is impossible
might be easy for you.

And to Julian
it would be everything.

It would be 9800 dollars, sir.

Let me tell you a little bit
about Julian.

He's a fan of San Lorenzo Football Club
like his father, obviously.

He's loving, sensitive,
he has an iron will.

He really enjoys being outdoors,
he likes sunny days,

but his favorite hobby
is to listen to music in his computer.

For hours!

Whats the name of that singer
so popular that you like so much?

What's her name? Tell him.

- Taylor Swift.
- That one. Taylor Swift.

He's always in a good mood,
like you see him now. Always.

In spite of everything.
He's a role model.

Sheer willpower, all heart.

A fighter.

Believe it or not,
he's the one who sustains us.

Let me give you my card with
my contact information, Mr. Daniel.

And thank you very much in advance.

- Here.
- I'm sorry about your son's condition,

but I can't help you.

It's not about the amount of money,
but I'm not an NGO.

You should expect help
from state agencies.

I'm not indifferent to your situation.

I'm a very committed person,

but my commitment as a writer
is something different.

And as I said, whether you needed
one dollar or one hundred thousand,

there'd be no difference.
Let's suppose I say yes.

I won't do it,
it's just an assumption.

Suppose I give you
ten thousand dollars.

What you say is true.
It would be easy for me.

But it would be a perverse attitude
and it would go against my principles.

What about the rest of the people

who are in the same situation
as your son?

It'd be absolutely unfair.
I'm sorry, but no.

Sir, helping one person is something.

At least you'd be helping one.

I know a lot of people
around the world are in need.

But isn't it better
to have one million people

instead of one million and one?

We're all from Salas.
It's no big deal to you.

If I helped you,
I'd be like a kind of deity.

A savior, who miraculously decides

the faith of those who cross his path.

The problem is
I'm not a religious person.

And I don't want to be
in that position...

with anyone.
My answer is no.

And besides...

The way you're asking me this
feels like extortion.

Good afternoon.

Excuse me.

Artistic creation does not rely
on ethics or morals.

For instance, the great painters
of the Renaissance,

such as Raphael or Michelangelo,

created incredible works of art
on behalf...

of religious propaganda.

A good portion of Leni Riefenstahl's
magnificent cinematographic work

was meant as Nazi propaganda.

There are hundreds of other examples.

- Good afternoon!
- Oh well...

- Oh, Romero...
- Hello everyone.

I'm Dr. Florencio Romero.

I'm sure you all know exactly
who I am.

Let me interrupt you briefly.

They'll be handing out copies

with fragments
of one of this guy's books.

- I can't believe this!
- It's called "The Sand Giant".

By reading this,
you'll be able to confirm

how he definitely tarnishes
our community.

He treats us like ignorant
and pervert people.

But not just in this book.
Every book by this buffoon.

Does nothing
but treat us like crap.

Yes, stop pretending.
You are a piece of crap.

You try to attribute to us

the worst of human behavior.

My esteemed defender of good manners,

if you're not interested in listening,
which is a huge honor for me,

I invite you to leave the room.

These people are interested in
listening, so please show some respect.

- Not for me, but from them.
- You're such a demagogue!

Stop pretending!
These people don't know who you are!

They don't know your work.
Stop underestimating them!

There's a reason why he never
came back to his hometown.

This millionaire's whole work

is based on slandering
his own community.

If you don't think he's a rat,
I don't know anymore.

You're nothing but a luxury servant
in Europe, a clown!

You have no sense of belonging.

You're a declassed person!

"Really?
yes!

That's why Dante Alighieri

sends traitors
to the lowest circle of hell.

He considers treason
the most loathsome of all sins.

And that's simply because
in order to betray,

you first have to win
your victim's trust and affection.

- This guy is Judas.
- Bravo, bravo!

- Bravo, bravo!
- If you want...

or I can read this out loud.

Story:
"Railroad Crossing", page 120.

"Apart from the creole horses,

the engineer,
the giant of the ring road,

as the creoles called him,
had another hobby.

In a warehouse in his ranch,

he enslaved poor and illiterate people
to serve him.

Whole families packed together
under his yoke..."

I don't think I need to tell you
who he means.

Engineer Gagliardi, Tulio Gagliardi.
A dear resident of Salas.

"Towering" Gagliardi,
he was like seven feet tall.

He owned the warehouses
just outside town.

Unfortunately, as we all know,
he's not alive to defend himself

against this man's insults.
If he were here,

I'm sure he'd put him
in his place.

- Okay...
- And that's not all.

There's plenty more!
You are a rat!

You ran away
when things got tricky!

- Really?
- Yes, sir!

And now you come here to lecture!

You found the perfect formula!

You denigrate your hometown
and get paid back in Euros for it!

You kiss Europeans ass!
They should give you awards,

-because you work for them!
- Very good! Very good!

A great performance.
Very convincing.

Even better than the one
you did this morning.

Great acting.
Congratulations.

And thank you for your idea.
I might use it in my next novel.

Although, I don't think it'll work,

because it's too stupid and ridiculous.

Now, please, get out of here.

These people are here
to listen to me, not you.

Don't worry, I'm done here.

We're leaving.
What? Are you scared?

We won't hurt you.

What can you expect from a guy
who didn't even have the decency

to come back
to bury his own father?

Am I lying?

Let's go.

Once again,
truth surpasses fiction.

Let's suppose
what they say is true.

Suppose they're right,
I'm that monster they say I am.

Would that invalidate me
as an artist?

I write literature,
novels, fiction.

I don't write leaflets
about ethical behavior.

Many despicable actions

of some of my characters...

are unfortunately part
of this world we live in.

The fact that my characters
do whatever it is they do

doesn't mean that I approve
or disapprove such actions.

Do crime writers
approve of homicides?

But why don't you write
about nice things?

I give up.

I give up.

Your point calls my whole life
as a writer into question.

WE'VE BEEN ROBBED
ASK IF YOU WANT To KNOW ABOUT IT

The hotel looks like a set
from a Rumanian film.

They also got me on a fire truck
to wave at people.

Yes, along with the beauty queen.
I'll tell you later.

Nuria...

The reason why I'm calling you...

is because I want to buy a wheelchair
for a boy who needs it.

It's a special wheelchair.
You can't find it here.

I'll put you in touch
with his father

so you can send him
either the wheelchair or the money.

I don't know.
Whatever is easier.

Take note of his phone number.

CHAPTER IV
THE VOLCANO

Your home is beautiful.

Beautiful?

You picked a horrible adjective.

Kiss.

Look at this!

Lamb heads.

His favorite dish.

Once you overcome the initial shock,
I swear they're delicious.

One for each.

What really surprises me is that
you are either very naive...

or very narcissistic,
I'm not sure which,

to ignore the fact that some people
here in Salas could feel offended

by what you write, you know?

Even if Romero
is the most disgusting person in town.

We all know that but...

What is it?

You'd never eat
something like this in Europe.

Amazing!

By the way, Argentinean barbecue
is not an Argentinean invention.

- Really? -Long ago the Chinese
were making barbecues.

If one of our gauchos knows that,
he'd commit hara-kiri

That's a Japanese thing, right?
He'd chop his dick off with a knife.

Cows are not originally from Argentina.
They were brought by Columbus.

The ostrich, the partridge,
those are from Argentina.

Amazing. You have the same rhetoric
you had a thousand years ago.

You haven't changed either.

- So...
- So what?

No, a toast.

First a toast.

You know I'm not
a sentimental person.

I don't give a damn
about solemnity and such,

but I'd like
to make a toast to you, Daniel.

I want to toast to you because...

Look where you came from.

Look where you came from
and what you've achieved.

You worked your ass off
to get where you are.

I'm very proud of you, Daniel.
Very proud.

You're an honorable...

decent person.

Well done, Daniel!

And what about Irene?

The woman I hope to spend
the rest of my life with.

We raised a family together.

Based on respect.

We share...

the same bed every night.

What else could I want?

Cheers.

I'm such a jerk...

Kiss your daddy.

So beautiful!

Shall we eat?

Stunning!

And you haven't seen
those lamb heads yet!

Why are you washing the dishes,
Daniel? I'll do it later.

- No, let me help.
- He likes it. Let him do it.

- So what happened?
- Well...

So I opened the door
and there she was.

A beautiful, beautiful girl.
Almost a kid.

But with a slutty attitude,
very determined.

She rushed into the room.
A professional groupie.

No inhibitions, totally naughty,
ready for everything.

- That chick was determined.
.-The kids are here!

Hi!

Hi.

- She's Julia, our daughter.
- Yes, we've met. I was at his lecture.

She loves your work,
read all your books.

Kiss, kiss.

And he's Roque, her boyfriend.

- Why don't you pour us some drinks?
- Sure.

Come.

Whiskey, Roque.

So? Did you fuck her?

- No!
- Dude!

Gringos come
to hunt wild hogs.

So we take them
in Roque's pickup truck

which is equipped
with roof lights and all.

We supply them with guns,

ammunition, food, you name it.

And we go wild hog hunting.

Sometimes hogs come,
sometimes they don't.

So Roque, he...

so we give them domestic pigs,

those you can hand feed.

So the gringos shoot and miss,

because they're dumb, you know.

Then Roque, from the truck bed,

with his rifle
with telescopic sight,

shoots at the same time
as the gringos do.

You know what I mean?
Like this. He shoots like this.

So when they miss, he hits.

And they think they hit, you know?

Satisfaction guaranteed.

Happy ending for everybody.

They leave thrilled.
Make your pig impersonation.

- Dad!
- Just once!

-Imitate a wild hog.
- No, Antonio! Antonio!

- Do it.
- Stop it, dad.

Alright, if you don't want to...

- When are you leaving?
- In two days.

Would you like to come wild hog
hunting with us tomorrow night?

Even if you're a gringo,
we won't charge you anything.

See?
More rural and rustic stories

for your European readers.
It's good.

- Okay, let's do it.
- Great!

Did you hear? He said yes.

Get everything ready
because tomorrow night...

we'll go wild hog hunting
with my friend.

Okay? And now...

let's go for a drink somewhere.

Just so we...

No, I'm too tired.

I hardly slept since I left Barcelona.

Come on, my friend!

Hi!

How are you?
Give my friend a kiss.

- Give my friend a kiss.
- Hi.

That's it. Very good.

I must have fucked these girls

twenty or thirty times each.

I fucked them all.

My theory is that...

you can have an affair

with a girl or a woman
who's not your wife.

You can have a fling...

but always come back home
to your wife...

who belongs to you.

The one you have a family with,
the one you respect.

The same goes for women.
I can take it.

Your wife may also have
an affair with some guy.

What can you do?

Go Antonio!

Hey Roque!

Roque...

Now that the witch's not here,
do your wild hog impersonation.

Listen, listen.

Do it again!
With enthusiasm! Come on!

- Son of a bitch! He's a hog!
- Yes.

You'll have to excuse me, guys,
but I have to go. I'm really tired.

I haven't slept
in three days, really.

Roque, give him a ride.
I'll stay here chatting with my shrink.

No, it's fine.
Roque just got here.

I can walk or grab a cab.

Are you dumb or what?
There are no taxis here!

The hotel's too far away.

Take him, Roque!

Roque!!

What are you looking at, Vasco?
What's that silly giggle?

What are you looking at?
Do you have any problem?

What are you doing here?
How did you get in?

- Hi.
Get out of here now, please!

You knew about my friendship
with your parents!

Stop this!

- Come on, don't reject me.
- I want you to leave.

There's your father
and your boyfriend too.

He's not my boyfriend anymore.
We broke up. He's rude and idiot.

I don't care.
Get dressed and get out.

I want to leave this town.
I don't want to stay here

and have a shitty life like my mom.

Get dressed and get out!

You won't talk to me?

Hello?

Hello!

Fag!

Stop m.

Get out of here! Stop it!

Enough!

Antonio...

Do you want us to talk?

Antonio.

Or swear to die gloriously

Or swear to die gloriously

Alright. We're ready.

Let's see what do we have here.

A few words from our
Distinguished Citizen?

Well...

I'm very honored for this gesture
that perpetuates my image...

or at least something
slightly similar to it.

I must admit
ifs a very personal portrait.

A friend of mine, a writer who also
won a Nobel Prize, once told me...

"Being a Nobel laureate
turns you into a statue."

Apparently,
that wasn't just a metaphor.

Thank you very much.

Very good!

Great! You did a great job!
Congratulations!

You won't have any problems
during your last lecture.

I can assure you, trust me.
Just go. No fear.

Yes, I was going to go anyway...
No fear.

There are resentful people
everywhere, Daniel.

They can't stand your success,
your achievements, your Nobel Prize.

And ifs also a way to harm me.

Local issues, an indirect shot.
I know them.

Daniel...

One last thing, about the contest.
Look...

I think you're right about everything.
I have no doubts, but...

I'll have to ask you to accept

some of the paintings
that were rejected.

I heard you've rejected
all the local painters.

Don't get me wrong but...

I don't know a thing about art...

but you're leaving
this town tomorrow and won't come back.

I'll have to put up
with them here, you know?

They'll ask me why their paintings
were rejected and things like that.

Daniel, I'm just asking you
as a favor.

Accept a few paintings, please.

So that tonight we can have
a peaceful event.

Do whatever you want.
If ifs such a world-shaking matter.

Daniel!

See you at seven!

Don't let us down this time!

Daniel!

Daniel!

You bailed on us!
You never showed up!

What about tonight?

- What was your name?
- Renato.

- Renato.
- Yes.

Look, I didn't and I won't go
to your house,

because I don't know you,
I don't know who you are.

Is that clear?
And you don't know me either.

You have absolutely no idea
who I am or how I think.

The characters in my books
are exactly that: characters.

They're fictional.
They don't exist.

If you were thrilled to think
your father was one of those characters

- I'm sorry.
- But...

You and I have nothing in common,

except for the fact that we
were both born here. Nothing else.

I didn't bail on you.

I'm not obliged to go to your house
just because you invite me.

I'm not an object.
I'm not at your disposal.

Is that clear?

You should invite people who are really
interested in your invitation.

- Yes, but...
- It doesn't work like this.

- Listen. I'm talking to you.
- Yes.

It doesn't work like this.

It has to be
something mutual, reciprocal.

Understand?
- Yes.

I wouldn't normally bother
to give any explanations,

but today, I don't know why

but I feel like saying
what I truly think,

-as if we really knew each other.
- But it's about my father, please!

Have a nice day.

What the fuck are you doing?

I didn't know
you had become a dirty old man!

I didn't know who she was.
If I had known, I wouldn't have...

Am I interrupting something?

- What happened to your face?
- Whose face?

Oh! Nevermind.
Vasco said something stupid...

so I sent him to the infirmary.

Where did you sleep last night?

I was with him all night.
We've been talking about...

life.

About life.

It's alright.
Go home, come on.

Come on, go home.

Come on.

Do you need a ride?
Are you going somewhere?

No, I'm going to the Community Club.
Today's my last lecture.

Okay, I'll take you.

No, no, no.

No...

I'd rather walk.
I need some air.

- Don't forget our hunting date.
- Yes.

Today I'm a distinguished figure.

Although a lot of people
don't really know why.

A kind of national hero

you recover from the cabinet
and dust if off...

so that he's present
at some cultural event

and makes a little speech.

And then put back in the closet.

A definitely small-town fate
for someone

who, for over thirty years,

has been trying to escape
precisely from that.

But, to be a national hero,
I still need the most important thing.

My own death.

Lastly...

You deserve an applause...

Because you kept coming.

For you.

Daniel, we'll take you.

No, thank you.

Excuse me. Good afternoon.
I was just looking.

This used to be my parent's house.

My home.
I lived my whole childhood here.

- It's closed.
- This was the garage...

- Traitor!
- Son of a bitch!

Good luck.

Well, my friends...

It's a pleasure to me to celebrate
this painting contest.

And an honor to have
as president of the jury

none other than Daniel Mantovani,

this artist from Salas
who has conquered the world...

and who was appointed
Distinguished Citizen

of our beloved town
just two days ago.

Emilee, our Culture Secretary,
was also one of the judges.

And Méndez, who,
for personal reasons,

is no longer working here with us.

I'm convinced that culture
plays an essential role

in the development of a society...

and that the government

is obliged to promote it.

I'd like to thank you all

for helping us defend our culture.

The best cultural politics...

The best cultural politics
is not having one.

To defend our culture?

Culture is always considered
as something weak, fragile,

as something feeble

that needs to be guarded,
protected, promoted

and subsidized.

Culture is indestructible.

It's capable of surviving
the worst catastrophes.

There was a wild tribe in Africa.

The word "freedom" didn't exist
in their language.

Do you know why?

Because they were free.

I think the word "culture"
always comes from the lips

of the most ignorant, stupid
and dangerous people.

I personally never use it.

People...

These are not the paintings
we thought should win a prize.

They're not even the ones we had chosen.

Neither had we chosen,
let alone awarded,

this painting by the doctor here.

- Shut up, outcast! Piece of shit!
- Hey, no, no, wait!

- No, no! Stop!
- You pussy!

- Come here you pussy!!!
- Come on!

Stop m.

- Pussy!
- Stop! Stop!

- No, no!
- Let's take this outside like men!

Mantovani!
Distinguished Citizen my ass!

- Hey! Please!!
- I'll be waiting outside!

Let's settle this outside
if you're a man, motherfucker!

Distinguished Citizen my ass!

Come fight me if you dare!
You piece of shit!

Fucking traitor!
Sun of a bitch!

Don't touch me!
Come outside! I'll be waiting!

- I'll show you, Distinguished Citizen!
- Traitor!

I'm leaving, but I want to say
one more thing.

I admit that it doesn't bother me
that much to have detractors

who repudiate me
with such vehemence.

And despite the tremendous brutality
of these actions,

I feel a personal satisfaction

from the way people express themselves
against whats established.

That is: Me.

But let's get to the point.

As a frequent observer
of the human comedy,

I feel the responsibility
to try to make this world

a less horrible place.

I know it's a lost battle,

but that doesn't mean
I will give up the fight.

Go on like this.

Stay as you are.
Don't let anything change here.

Keep on being
a hypocrite society...

and stupidly take pride...

in your own ignorance
and brutality.

I'm sorry I've caused you
so much trouble.

Go on with your peaceful lives.
Keep making Salas

such a beloved paradise.

That's all.

No, Daniel.
Go through the back door.

Come. Come.

Don't even think about
going hunting with Antonio.

You have to leave Salas right now.

What happened?

Daniel, for the first time in your life,
please listen to me.

Let's go to the hotel
to get your things.

I have to get you out of here now.

It won't go.

I'll go get the truck.
Pack your things.

I'll pick you up at the hotel.

Okay.

Daniel, we received the latex mattress.
I'll replace it in a minute.

And this is from school 39.

A reporter from Buenos Aires
came asking for you. He's staying here.

You also got a call
from the President's office.

They asked if it's true
that you're staying in this hotel.

GENIUS

I thought you were leaving tomorrow.

Change of plans.

Ramiro, I really liked your stories.

The one I liked better is the one about
the couple waiting at the hospital.

It's very well written.

Your style is polished,
fluent, subtle,

without tricky resources.
A simple and clear prose.

Too simple.

No. What's simple and clear might be
subversive and disturbing.

Kafka is an example.

His prose is the most
obvious and simple,

and yet the most disturbing.

Making things simple
is an act of artistic kindness.

How about we publish it in a collection
of texts we're putting together?

Yes, of course!

Thank you. I never thought you...

- I'll keep it.
- Yes.

I'll give it to my editor.
Take mine in exchange.

"To Ramiro.
United by Salas and literature.

Daniel Mantovani."

- Thank you so much, master.
- Thank you for everything.

I'll write to you as soon
as I arrive in Barcelona.

If you ever go there,
you'll be my guest.

- No, no need to...
- Take it as an advance...

for the publishing of your story.

That's a lot of luggage
to go hunting.

Come on, buddy.
Let's go.

Irene couldn't come.

But she sends her regards.

Good evening everyone.

I had a dream,
CHAPTER V THE HUNT

a crazy idea that! wanted to bring to life.
CHAPTER V THE HUNT

Everybody said X was insane...

But why don't you write
about nice things?

...to conquer the trust
and affection oi the victim...

This guy is a traitor.

Long live our country, Daniel!

I married Irene.
You left and I kept your girlfriend.

More rural and rustic stories
for your European readers.

We're at! from Salas, sir.

I'm very proud that my dad
is in one of your books.

In a way, you've made him immortal.

K don't want to stay here
and have a shitty fife like my mom.

We need 9800 dollars.

As you can imagine, there's no way
we could collect that amount of money.

This miliionaire's whole work.“...

is based on slandering
his own community.

You have to leave Salas right now.

Come on, buddy.

- Roque, give him his things.
- Listen, Antonio...

Shut up. Don't say a word.
It's all very clear.

Get your things and get out of town.

Alright?

Goodbye, scumbag, goodbye.

Run, damn it!

Real close to your feet

so that you shit
your pants, motherfucker!

Run!

What did you do, asshole?

Death...

Everything becomes lethargic
and in order.

My name in the crystal
of eternity.

The end.

Hello everybody.
Good afternoon.

I'm Vicente Aristizébal,
Daniel Mantovani's publisher.

Thank you for coming
to the press conference

for his new novel,
"The Distinguished Citizen".

Daniel will read a brief fragment
of his book to us

and then he will answer
some of your questions.

"The Distinguished Citizen, Chapter 1:
The Invitation."

"Leaving doesn't mean
not being there anymore.

For years,
when winter arrived here,

I could feel the summer
of my hometown in my body.

Now § don't anymore.

This story begins with a letter.

a letter printed in paper

sent from my home town.

Salas.

1 guess ah I did my entire fife

was trying to escape from that place.

My characters
were never able to leave

and I was never able to come back.“

Last two questions?

Over there.

I'm Alex Bussard from Channel Plus.

First, I want to congratulate you
for your novel.

And my question is:

Although "The Distinguished Citizen"
takes place in Salas

like your previous novels,

what's new now
is that you're the protagonist.

Don't you think that decision
is too egocentric?

We writers are all egocentric,
self-referential,

narcissistic and vain.

I believe that is
a fundamental tool for writing.

Pen, paper and vanity.

Without that,
you cannot write anything.

Last question, please.

Caries Ramirez, from La Vanguardia.

In your novel, how much is literary
creation and how much is reality?

Does that matter, my friend?

Reality doesn't exist.

There are no facts,
there are interpretations.

The truth,
or what we call the truth,

is an interpretation
which prevails over another one.

You're not giving me an answer.
Just avoiding...

This is for you. Regarding interpretation.

What is this scar?

Do you see it?
What is it?

An old surgery,

a scar from a bicycle accident,

or a bullet wound?

Homework.

Thank you very much.

Now you can take photos.

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