All language subtitles for Sostiene Pereira 1995

Based on the novel by Antonio Tabucchi

Pereira maintains
it was a fine summer day.

Sunny and fresh,
Lisbon was sparkling.

and like every morning,
he rose early.

Pereira maintains
he read an essay that day,

an essay that impressed him.

"Death as the key to understanding life"

It began with the death rites
of ancient Egypt

and ended with the apathy
of today's world.

The essay was signed
by an unfamiliar name

who seemed to know the subject well.

A certain Monteiro Rossi.

Pereira maintains that
for some time, he too

had been thinking about death.
Why?

Maybe because when he was small,
his poor father

had a funeral parlour called
Pereira of the Sorrows.

Maybe because his wife,
whom he deeply mourned,

had died of tuberculosis
some years ago.

Or maybe because he was fat
and had heart problems

and the doctor told him
he wouldn't live long

if he didn't take care of himself.

Even so, Pereira maintains,
that if death were inevitable

and affected everyone,

then he, as cultural editor of
the Lisboa newspaper,

had an obligation
to concern himself,

not only with his own death,
but with others too.

At least as long as I live,
Pereira maintains.

Freedom! Freedom!
Justice!

Come on,
you've got two minutes.

What's the matter today?

Well... I can't stop
thinking about death.

It's as if the whole world
were dead or dying.

And then...

I believe in the soul

and it's resurrection,

but not of the flesh.

This sweaty paunch
that burdens me,

Why should it too be resurrected?

Do you expect me
to listen to this heresy?

But Father Antonio,

it's not even been two minutes.

Pereira maintains that
Fr. Antonio was brusque with him

every time he brought up
the subject,

which perturbed him.

What kind of a world is this?
he asked himself,

and had the bizarre thought
that he might no longer be alive,

as if he were already dead.

That's why he thought it'd be useful
to talk to the unknown essayist.

Mr. Monteiro Rossi?

I am Dr. Pereira,

cultural editor of the Lisboa.

I've just read your article
and I find it very...

in...

Oh... No, no.
I called you

as I'm looking for a contributor
for Saturday's cultural page,

and I wondered if you...

You've only just graduated?

This evening?

Yes, splendid.

A Neapolitan song?

I understand, one can't live
on culture alone.

Good. Thank you,
until this evening then.

Pereira maintains the call
brought him little comfort.

He had expected
a more mature person,

given the subject.

All the same,
he got ready to meet him,

without suspecting the importance

the meeting would have
for the rest of his life.

- Dr. Pereira, going already?
- Yes, good bye.

You've forgotten your hat.

Why don't you smile?
Don't you how how to?

This is for you.

Now give me a smile.

- Go on...
- See, you can smile!

One lemonade.

All's well, Dr. Pereira?
- Fine. Fine, Manuel.

Tell me, what's happened today?

The police do as they please.

And the front page news
in your paper is about

the departure of the world's
most luxurious yacht.

What are you talking about?

Haven't you heard what happened
this morning in the market?

No.

A cart driver was murdered

just for protesting.

That's the news the
papers should print.

Teresa's going on holiday,

so I'll have to cook my own food.

"The bright moonlight
of dawn shining

upon the market
of golden melons,

the pink houses
curiously glancing

in search of our treasure.

The secret of discovery
is trapped..."

I'll be a little late tonight,
I have a business meeting.

And now,

in honour of our Italian
comrades fighting in Spain,

The young Monteiro Rossi,

will sing a most beautiful song
from his wonderful country.

Did you like it?

- Excuse me.
- Come with me!

- Sorry.
- That's all right.

Dr. Pereira?

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

- Please take a seat.
- After you.

- Thank you. Good evening.
Good evening.

Are you a member of the
Nationalist Youth Movement?

Me? I'm a Philosophy graduate!

I ask because the Lisboa
is an independent newspaper

And we...

don't concern ourselves
with politics.

But I'm not at all
interested in politics.

I've been paid to sing because
of my Italian background.

That's all.

Perfect!

Perhaps you can elaborate
on your article about death?

Tell me, does death interest you?

Not in the least.
I'm interested in life.

Pardon me, but I'm
tired of death.

My mother died two years ago,

and my father last year.

But...
Why do you ask?

Well, in a newspaper, whenever
a notable intellectual dies,

we have to write a eulogy.

But a good obituary
can't be improvised.

I'm looking for someone

who can write
a good one in advance.

As I said,

of course I love life, but

if you want me to talk about death

pay me like they paid me
to sing this evening...

Then I'm available.
- Good.

Well, not as a singer, hmm?

But maybe as a journalist
you'll be much better.

You said you're of Italian origin.
- Yes, that's right.

Then write a good obituary
of Rapagnetta for me.

- Rapa...?
- Don't tell me you don't know

Italy's most important poet?

Oh yes, of course.
Tomorrow you'll have the obituary of...

- Rapa...
- ...gnetta.

Absolutely! Rapagnetta!

Marta!

May I introduce you?
Marta, this is Dr. Pereira,

cultural editor of
the Lisboa.

He just hired me,
from now on I'm a journalist.

That's right.

- See, I found a job.
- That's wonderful.

So let's celebrate.
Come along darling.

Excuse me, Dr. Pereira.
Let's go.

Dr. Pereira, I'd like to dance
this waltz with you.

- But... I haven't danced in years.
- Come on.

- No, please...
- Come along.

Tell me, are you also
interested in journalism?

A little.

Today your newspaper

didn't mention the cart driver
killed by the police in the market.

Doesn't it seem a little strange?

Unfortunately, the chief editor
is on holiday

and I'm only concerned
with literature,

But from next Saturday,
our paper will have

a whole page
dedicated to culture.

- That's really interesting.
- Indeed it is.

Tell me, Dr. Pereira, shouldn't
the killing of an innocent man

concern you too?

Miss, please keep your voice down.

Don't you realise where we are

Exactly, this place is
making me nervous.

Soon they'll be playing
military marches, you'll see.

It's better to leave you
with your new employee.

I need some fresh air.

Marta. Marta!

Guy de Maupassant inherited
venereal disease from his father,

which drove him first to insanity
and then to a premature death

His work...
Come in!

- Good morning.
- Good morning, Dr. Pereira.

- Good morning.
- I've brought your article.

I worked on it all night.
- Well done, bravo!

And Marta would like to...

I'd like to apologise
for my behaviour last night.

- Don't be silly...
- We also wanted...

to celebrate
his new career in journalism.

Of course.

- Do you have some glasses?
- Not here... just a moment.

Here they are. I found them.

This is genuine Italian wine.

I really shouldn't eat
or drink anything sweet.

but for you,
I'll make an exception.

Thank you.

This doesn't look like
a newspaper office.

No, we're not at the office.

This is just somewhere
to work in peace.

- Shall I read it?
- Yes of course.

And now I'll let you work.

- Good bye, Dr. Pereira.
- Good bye, Miss, Good bye.

Ciao.

- Gabriele D'Annunzio.
- Yes.

- May I sit down?
- Use my desk.

Thank you.

Gabriele D'Annunzio.

Known to his admirers
by this name,

but in fact,
his real name was Rapagnetta.

Changed because
it wasn't grandiose enough.

Indeed, he was a great poet.

If we might describe him frankly,

we would not hesitate
to call him a braggart.

In fact, D'Annunzio
was a warmonger,

unworthy of imitation
due to the

insufferable vulgarity
of his ideas.

Blinded by Fascism,

he exalted its cruel
colonial conquests.

The passing of this sinister character,
capable of the worst...

Young man, you are
either ignorant,

or a troublemaker.

Journalism today in this country

needs neither.

But why not?

Don't you know that D'Annunzio
is the poet of Italian Fascism?

and Italian troops are fighting
alongside our volunteers in Spain

on the side of General Franco?

- Do you think that's right?
- I don't know and I don't want to know.

I simply asked you for an obituary.

And you bring me...
- I can revise it.

I can write a completely different article.

But please. I need to earn some money.

But how can you expect
a newspaper to pay for...

for something like this?
I do need it, don't you see?

I know you expect high standards.
I know I must use my head.

But if I tell the truth...

Which is?

The truth is, I followed my heart.

I don't understand.

The article about D'Annunzio...

I swear I could have written

a good obituary with my head,

but my heart was stronger.

Not only that.
- Not only...?

Not only that,
I'm in love with Marta.

I don't see the connection.

They are linked,
I followed my heart.

My head is somewhere else.

Pereira maintains
he wanted to say:

"If you write from your heart,
my friend,

you'll face some serious problems,
I can assure you."

But he said
nothing of the sort.

On the contrary.

Listen, young man.

Sit down.

The Ten Commandments
don't explain it, but I will.

Following one's heart

is more important.

But one must find a balance.
Yes, with the heart too,

but always keep
your eyes wide open.

Yes. I know.

The next obituary will
meet your expectations.

I hope so.

Dr. Pereira...

You should know
that I need money.

Yes?

I'd like to ask for an advance.

- But you haven't written anything.
- Yes I know, but...

- How much do you need?
- It's up to you.

Thank you.

"...is trapped within us..."

I should have sacked
that boy, I know.

If we'd had a son,
he'd be the same age now.

Remember how a lock of hair
kept falling on my forehead?

He has one too.

Yes. He reminds me of
when I was young.

Pereira maintains he reflected
at length that day.

If he'd had a son,
he'd be a man by now

and he'd have liked to sit
at the table with him

and let him talk.

Pereira maintains
if he'd had a son,

he wouldn't now need
to talk to a portrait.

Dr. Pereira,
an express letter has arrived for you.

I took the responsibility
of signing for it.

I don't want any bother

but the sender's name is missing.

Strange, isn't it?

Mrs. Celeste,
you're paid to do your job.

Even so, you stick your nose
into matters that don't concern you.

Next time,
don't sign for it.

And don't look if there's
a sender's name or not.

Simply ask the postman
to come again...

and deliver it to me in person.
- Dr. Pereira,

I may be just a humble charwoman,
but my husband's a policeman.

who knows many people
in high places.

I'm well aware of it,

and that's exactly
what I don't like.

Oh yes?

Yes, madam!

Today we remember
Vladimir Mayakovski,

who committed suicide in Moscow
after an unhappy love affair.

Having joined the Bolsheviks
at a very young age,

he was arrested three times and tortured
by the infamous Czarist police.

We mourn the passing of
a passionate revolutionary...

Hello, my name is Pereira.

Yes, I was reading
your article.

Perhaps you'd make
an excellent novelist,

but my paper isn't the right place
to publish novels.

Mayakovski was a subversive.

Do you think the cultural page

is interested in
commemorating him?

Following your heart?

I never told you to write
solely from the heart.

I told you to keep
your eyes open.

No, I can't meet you.
I'm going away today.

You want another advance?

But how can you imagine that...

I'd give you another advance
considering what you've written?

Very well.
Good bye.

"Away until Monday".
Where's he going now?

Do you mind if I smoke?
- Not at all.

Luncheon is served
in the restaurant car.

Thank you.

Permit me, madam.

- By all means.
- Pereira, how do you do.

Cultural editor of the Lisboa.

- I'm Ingeborg Delgado. Please.
- Thank you.

I'm German.

But of Portuguese descent.

And you live here, in Portugal?

No.

I'm here in search of my roots,
as they say.

Tea and toast, please.

A very Portuguese choice.

A herb omelette
and a lemonade.

Forgive me, madam,
but I'm such a messy eater.

My charlady says
I'm worse than a child.

Do you like Portugal?
- Yes, very much.

Although this country
is no longer for me.

I'm waiting for a visa
for the USA.

- And you're Jewish?
- Yes.

And Europe today
is not an ideal place,

especially not Germany,

nor even here.

We're not liked very much,
according to the papers.

This is a Catholic country
that had an inquisition,

which is nothing to be proud of.

I am also a Catholic,
but in my own way.

I don't believe in
the resurrection of the flesh. No.

Thank you.

I noticed you were reading
Thomas Mann.

He too has applied
for an exit visa.

I'm not happy about
what's happening here either.

- Then do something!
- What would you like me to do?

You can write in the paper.

Explain what's happening.
Take a stand against it.

Madam, I am not Thomas Mann.

I translate stories from French.

I wouldn't know what else to do.
- You really think so?

Perhaps anything is possible,
if one is willing.

Sir! Do you want a lift?

Such luxury! Very impressive.

- Put the suitcase here.
- Yes.

Is it yours?
- Why?

What do you think?
Do you like it? At our age,

if you're clever,
it's best to enjoy life.

And look what's happening,
what do you think?

About what's happening where?

In Europe. In Germany,
in Italy

Those fanatics who want to

put the world
to the sword and flames.

They're far away.

And Spain?

It was a democratically
elected republic.

General Franco overthrew it.

And now not a day passes
without a massacre.

Even Spain is far away.

But even here,
things are getting worse.

Public opinion is meaningless.

Public opinion. You're a journalist
and you believe in that?

The suitcase!
- I'll have it brought up.

I'll see you in the restaurant.
- Very well.

It's not very entertaining here.
I'll take you somewhere

more... lively.

Look, your chief editor is coming.

Really?
He's alone this evening.

Good evening, Sir.
- Ah, Dr. Pereira...

I didn't expect
to see you here.

Have you deserted the office?
- The cultural page...

came out today.
I brought it with me, here it is.

Here's a story by Maupassant

and a review entitled
"Anniversaries".

Dr. Pereira, one of
my editors

Miss Maria do Vale Santares.

Please excuse me, madam.

Sir, I wanted to tell you

about my decision
to hire an assistant

to compile obituaries
in advance

of famous authors
that may die at any moment.

You see? It's best
to be prepared for death.

Dr. Pereira, I'm here to dine
in the delightful company

of a charming and sensitive lady

and you speak to me
only of the deceased.

Please forgive me, Sir.
Do you remember...

when Pirandello passed away?

Not a single paper had prepared
an eulogy in his memory.

I'd like to know how much
this assistant will cost me.

No, he's young
and easily pleased.

Furthermore, he graduated
with a thesis on death.

Oh please...

Let's not talk anymore... about...
do as you please, agreed?

Yes, I agree. I'll leave the paper with you,
and wish you a pleasant evening and...

take good care of yourself, Sir.

My compliments, Miss.

Pereira maintains he felt

a strange foreboding that night.

Perhaps it was his own fault,

but he didn't want to stay
at the spa with his friend Silva.

He felt that he should
return home at once,

despite knowing that no one
was waiting for him in Lisbon.

Welcome back, Dr. Pereira.

I gave your instructions
to the postman, but...

he said he can't call twice.

So I had to sign again.

And once again,
the sender's name is missing,

and I don't like it at all.

Give it to me. Thank you.

Esteemed Dr. Pereira.

I need to see you urgently
upon your return.

Respectfully yours,
Francesco Monteiro Rossi.

Monteiro Rossi.

He's not there?

He's no longer at this number?

But I called him there
a few days ago.

Sorry to trouble you.

Good morning.

Good morning, Manuel.
Any news?

You work for a newspaper
and you're asking me?

Exactly.
I've realised that

the best way
to discover the truth...

is to listen to people.
- Really?

Heard about the Jewish butchers?
- No, what's happened?

Assaulted.
Daubed with obscenities.

Not a word in the papers.

I hope the police
intervened at once.

The police?

The police always have
other things to do, Dr. Pereira.

Pereira maintains
that this news

sent sweat trickling down his spine.

He recalled the Jewish lady
he'd met on the train

and hoped that she was safe.

Perhaps it's true that
atrocities were taking place,

as Manuel had said.

Although he didn't see them,

such anxiety, such sweating,
was an omen.

"In the blue hazy sky, a seagull

in a white sea of foam

Pink sails curiously lurking

in search of our treasure."

"The secret of discovery

is trapped within us."

Oh, it's you.

Dr. Pereira, I'm in trouble.
I need your help.

Calm down.
What do you mean in trouble?

- My cousin has arrived.
- Yes?

He came from Spain,
fighting for the republicans

and wants to recruit
volunteers for the cause.

All right, but...
what's this got to do

...with me?
- The problem

is that I need to lie low
somewhere for a while.

I don't have anywhere to go.
- I know.

I tried to call you.
- Marta thought you could...

Could what?

You're a person that
no one would ever suspect.

One moment. Come in,
sit down and explain.

Thank you.

You must find him
somewhere safe.

I'm astonished
by your impudence.

At our first meeting

you told me that
politics didn't interest you.

You lied to me.
- But...

But it's for my cousin,
to help my cousin.

I can count only on you.
- On me?

You can't abandon us like this.

In any case, he's here now.
- Here? Where?

Good morning,
Bruno Rossi.

- Dr. Pereira, I... I'd like to...
- Yes, yes. Come with me, please.

Dr. Pereira, I promise you,
it's only for a few days.

You're both irresponsible!

There are soldiers everywhere.

We are surrounded.

No, no, calm down.

We're not in Spain,
there's no civil war.

Go on.

Now listen carefully.

I support neither
the Monarchist

nor the Republican cause.

I don't know if I can
find you accommodation,

but in any event,
hear me out.

Let this be the last time,
because

I want no part of any
of your activities.

- I was expecting a sympathiser.

- Be quiet!
- What did you say?

- Please don't be angry, Dr. Pereira.

Listen to me.

Wait here, I'll return at once.

I feel sorry for that boy.

Can you tell me why?

I think Marta
gets him into trouble.

What's he doing?
- What?

Don't you think
I should be on my guard?

He's talking to someone.

That's impossible.
He lives alone.

Come on, trust him.

Young man,
I'm going to tell you something.

I think you're getting into trouble

because of Marta.

No. Marta would never
put me in a tight spot.

Yes, she is a very intelligent girl,
determined too.

I can understand her.

But remember what I told you.

Always keep your eyes wide open.
- Yes.

Did you understand?

- Yes, I understand you perfectly.
- Excellent.

Take this, it'll get you into
a little boarding house.

Give it to the concierge
for me.

- Thank you.
- Thanks.

We also need
some money.

Let's call it an advance
on your next article.

More money?

Yes but you haven't written
anything worth publishing.

I assure you that
I have plenty of ideas.

I'm going away tomorrow
for treatment.

My cardiologist
was adamant,

if I don't obey him,
he'll die of a heart attack.

I should be back in a week,
meanwhile...

try to stay out of trouble,
all right?

And write a decent obituary.

Agreed?
- Thank you.

On your way.

I'll take you with me,

so you can see if this
famous treatment works.

Hello, little one.

Dr. Pereira, I know you're leaving.

I want to thank you
for all you've done for us.

- No, I haven't done anything, I...
- How do you mean?

You've been a great help,
without you, Monteiro's cousin...

Be quiet!

Don't mention any names.
Do you want to get us arrested?

Dr. Pereira.

I want to say something.

I know you think me a fanatic,
but you're wrong.

There is a great difference
between fanaticism and belief.

We can say that the ideal

of believing that people can be
free, equal and even brothers...

You're quoting
the French Revolution.

And Marx and
Engels, and the...

Yes, I know.
They're all famous figures.

Undoubtedly.

But as far as I'm concerned,

they're not my favourite authors.

I'm talking about freedom,
not literature.

For this reason
you should be one of us.

Miss, I am not one of you,
nor of the others.

But then I don't know
who you are, nor do I want to.

I used to report the news,

but thankfully not any longer.

You're wrong again.

We're not making news,

but history.
- History!

That's a more grandiose word, eh?

Now I must leave.

Don't follow me. And please,
don't look for me anymore.

Yes, I know the doctor
wouldn't allow it,

but wouldn't it be wonderful?

Remember how I used
to swim at Granja?

Stop! Stop here!

I'm going to the beach.
Take my suitcase to the clinic.

Tell them I'll arrive shortly.

Good morning.

Good morning. I'd like to rent
a swimsuit if possible?

I don't know if we have
one in your size.

Here's the key.
Look for one in the cabin.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Left, right, left, right...

Come on! Keep in step!

The swimsuit fits you perfectly.

Don't you need
a life buoy as well?

I'm a very good swimmer.

Probably better than you.
Don't worry.

The water's invigorating!
Let's get to it!

Harder, throw it harder!

Chuck the ball!

Pass the ball!

Catch!

Well done!

Throw it!

You see... I didn't need
a life buoy.

Thank you.

Over here.

Please, the doctor's expecting you.
- Thank you.

Ah! Dr. Pereira.
Thank you, nurse.

I've been expecting you.
I am Dr. Cardoso.

I just looked at your file.

You have cardiac deficiency,
but you...

you already know that,
there's no cause for alarm.

I understand you're an expert
on French literature.

I studied in France.

With your permission, I'd like to

have a chat.
Shall we take a stroll?

- Yes, I'd like that.
- Good.

Shall we go.

Let's begin with your diet.
What do you eat?

Herb omelettes, basically.

You'd rather not answer?
- Yes, yes.

I eat fish, meat...

I eat sensibly.

When did you start
to become overweight?

Some years ago
after my wife passed away.

- Do you like sweet things?
- No. Only lemonade.

- How many glasses a day?
- A dozen perhaps.

That's madness. Tell me,
do you add sugar to them?

- Yes, I fill the glass with sugar.
- But...

One part lemonade
and one part sugar.

From now on,
only still mineral water.

But if you prefer sparkling water,
we can make an exception for you.

This is a lovely spot.

Is it always so quiet?

I'm glad you like it.

Dr. Pereira, I have to ask you
a delicate question

about your sex life...

Excuse me?

The ladies...
are you sexually active...?

Doctor, I'm a widower
and getting on in years.

I have neither the time,
nor the desire to meet women.

Not even someone...
a passing fling...?

An assignation now and then?
- No, not even that.

May I smoke?
- If you must...

then I'll make another exception.
- Thank you, doctor.

I must confess that I find
your questions embarrassing.

Oh come now. Why?

No. It's perfectly normal,
Dr. Pereira...

- Really?
- Do you have...?

...nocturnal emissions?

- I beg your pardon...?
- Yes, well...

do you have erotic dreams
that lead to ejaculation?

Or if you don't,
what do you dream about?

What do I dream about?

But what do my dreams
have to do with the treatment?

You see, your psyche
and your body are interrelated.

So I should know about your dreams.

I often dream about Granja.

Very well, there is a woman
and you're not telling me.

No, Granja is a beach
near Oporto.

That's where I met my wife.

It was the best time of my life.

Good, that'll be all for today.

If you like, we can dine together.

Yes, I would enjoy that.

- Would you like a cigar?
- No, no. Thank you.

A glass of mineral water
before meals is good for you.

I'd prefer a well-chilled lemonade.

As I mentioned, I'm an admirer
of French literature.

What will be in your paper
this week?

Honorine, a story by Balzac
about repentance.

I read it as
an autobiography.

I mean to say,
as if it were about me.

- Regarding repentance?
- Yes.

As you usually eat meat and fish,

This evening I propose a change.

Our chef prepares
an appetising herb omelette,

- Would you like one?
- Yes, an excellent choice.

- Two omelettes it is.
- Good.

Thank you.

Repentance...
can you be more specific?

On the one hand,
I am content with my life.

I worked for 30 years
at the news desk,

now I concern myself with literature,
which is my passion.

On the other hand,

it's as if I need to repent,
and I can't deduce why.

Has anything special happened
to you in the last few months?

Anything special?

Yes, in psychoanalysis
our balance may be upset.

Yes, something has indeed
happened recently.

I've met someone,
or should I say two people.

Two young men,
penniless idealists with no future.

With no future?

Thank you.

Tell me about them.

Well...

I hired a young assistant,
who seemed to be

gifted at writing obituaries.

I paid him out of my own pocket,
so as not to prejudice the paper,

but he still hasn't written
anything publishable.

Why don't you look for
another assistant?

I asked my wife
that same question.

How's that?

You told me you're a widower.

Yes, but...

you speak to your wife.

Yes, to her portrait.

This is something we'll have
to examine in more detail.

Anyway,
getting back to your assistant.

Well, this boy
writes obituaries,

but always from
a political perspective.

I think Marta puts
these ideas into his head.

Who is Marta?

His girlfriend.

Apart from the wage you pay him,

I don't think it's very serious.

Yes, but I'm starting
to have doubts.

What if they were right?

What would be the problem?

If they were right,
my life would be meaningless.

I have always considered
literature to be paramount.

But now nothing seems
to make any sense.

Maybe this is why I feel
the need to repent.

Two fruit salads.

Without sugar.

Forgive me for asking,

are you obliged to follow
the diet of your patients?

What you have told me
is very interesting.

I propose that we continue
our discussion elsewhere.

Agreed?
- Absolutely.

Have you heard of
the médicins-philosophes?

They're French psychologists,
but also philosophers

who subscribe to the theory
of the confederation of souls.

- The confederation of souls?
- Yes.

While the Christian tradition
believes in one soul,

our theory considers
human personality to primarily be...

a confederation of various souls,
under the control of a dominant ego.

A dominant ego?

Yes. You wouldn't happen to have
one of your excellent cigars?

Thank you.

Oh no!
No, you shouldn't, Dr. Pereira.

But as it's your first evening,
I'll make an exception.

Thank you.

The dominant ego... go on.

Yes, exactly.

Our balance is dependent
on control by the dominant ego,

which governs
the confederation of souls.

When a stronger ego emerges,
it displaces the weaker one.

In my case, do you think a new
dominant ego has emerged?

From what you've told me,
I don't think a new ego

has yet emerged.

But it might happen soon.

- In that case, what should I do?
- Wait.

After years of thinking
literature to be above all else,

perhaps a new dominant ego
might start to guide your soul,

to demonstrate that there are
even more important matters.

Don't look so distraught.

Allow your new dominant
ego to emerge

and help it to conquer
your conflict.

What have those two youths
got to do with all this?

If you think they're right,

let things proceed and don't try
to alleviate your torment

by drinking ten lemonades a day.

Perhaps you're right.

Just a few weeks ago on the train,

a lady whom I didn't know,
told me I could do more.

By the way,

what time do I have to
get up in the morning?

Here we wake at six.

Bu as tomorrow is
your first morning,

we can make another exception.

The last one, no doubt!

Dr. Cardoso, I'll be honest.

This clinic is by no means
a disagreeable place.

Pereira maintains that he lay awake
thinking well into the night.

He believed in the resurrection
of the soul, but not of the flesh.

Only now he was perplexed by
the hypothesis of the resurrection

of an entire
confederation of souls.

He would speak to Fr. Antonio
as soon as possible.

Good morning, doctor.
- Dear friend!

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

- How are you today? Did you sleep well?
- Yes, I can say I did, thank you.

I only have one small problem.

Could you find me one
of those swimsuits...?

To cover your stomach
up to your shoulders?

No, you'll have to overcome
your modesty, because...

the algae and salt water are
only effective directly on your skin.

- Then I should wear trunks.
- Good.

Come on, breathe...

Deep breaths, good, once more.

Move your arms.

And again. Like that.

That's it, keep going.
More deep breaths, move your arms.

and the massage your chest and
stomach with the algae.

Keep going. On your stomach..
On your chest...

Yes, on your chest...

Come on, harder, harder!

Meanwhile, tell me about
your next translation.

It's a story,
The Final Lesson.

Do you know it?

Alphonse Daudet.

Well done!

I know it, I know it.
It's a very moving story.

But...

if I remember correctly, it ends with
the exaltation of France over Germany.

I'm not sure if this story

would be appreciated here today.

Why not?

Once again,
Germany is against France,

and our country
is its ally, so that...

But my paper
is free and independent.

- Are you sure.
- Yes

Hopefully you're not the
only one who believes that.

Your chief editor always
attends the regime's rallies.

And at times...

he salutes like this.

Well, I'm not so sure they don't

censure you day in day out.

- That hasn't happened yet.
- But it can...

even depend on whether the
dominant ego takes control

of your confederation of souls.

May I go now?

No, ten minutes more.

Remember, besides literature,

we have another objective in common.

To lose weight.
To lose at least ten kilos.

Ten kilos?

Good morning, Celeste.
I'm back.

Is there anything for me?

There's also a letter
addressed to a Monteiro Rossi.

c/o Dr. Pereira.

Strange, it's the first time
I've seen something like that.

No, not at all, c/o simply
means "For the newspaper".

Is that so?
- Yes.

Dr. Pereira...

You've lost some weight.
- Yes, I know.

I'm just pointing it out.

Hello?

I am the cultural editor
of the Lisboa.

Yes, it's me.

Has something happened?

At the Café Orquidea,
this evening? Wait... listen

No, no. Only mineral water
from now on. Still.

Really?

You look very well,
You've even lost weight. Am I right?

Heard about the incredible scandal
that's erupted in the Vatican?

- What scandal?
- It seems that

a famous French Catholic writer
denounced Franco's repression.

What is his name?

Ber... Berno...

- Bernanos, his name's Bernanos!
- Yes, that's it I think.

Just a still mineral water then?

- Yes.
- Coming up.

Manuel.
- At your service.

If anyone asks, say that
I waited an hour then went home.

- I will, Dr. Pereira.
- Thank you.

- Good night. See you tomorrow.
- Until tomorrow.

Dr. Pereira.

Don't you recognise me?

Is it you, Marta?

I waited for you at the café.
- I was there,

but I'm no longer called Marta.
Now I'm Lise Delaunay,

a painter visiting Portugal
on a French passport.

I didn't recognise you,
what's happened?

In certain circumstances, one needs
to become someone else.

And Monteiro Rossi?

This arrived for him at the paper.
At a very inopportune moment.

I wrote that letter. I hoped
he might contact you.

- But where is he?
- I have no idea.

He left with his cousin
to recruit volunteers.

I hope I'm mistaken,
but I sense trouble.

True, we're in serious trouble
and we need money.

- What kind of trouble?
- The problem is I'm on the run.

In the end, I chose this life.

For him it's different.

Without me, he would never
have got involved in this.

Follow me,
I want to show you something.

This is not fiction,
this is a true story.

Antonio is the leader
of a subversive group.

After escaping from the police,

the subversives are plotting
to overthrow our government.

They say that things are
getting worse in the country

and they are preparing a secret plot
to assassinate our president.

Now they're debating when
to put their plan into action.

Antonio's mother, knowing
him to be a dangerous subversive,

dies of a broken heart,
and the village women

reproach her unfortunate son,

the cause of her unjust
and premature death.

Antonio visits the grave
of his poor mother.

Is there any repentance in his soul?

Teresa, his beloved fiancée,
is anxious,

but she is not discouraged
and begins the task of saving him,

by opening his eyes to
the state of the nation.

This is how our children
are looked after,

with such love and care,
unrivalled elsewhere.

This is how our adolescents
are growing up,

with such love and care,
unrivalled elsewhere.

What about our old people?

who are protected and cared for,
like nowhere else in the world.

What about our homes?

Thousands are being built
to house all our citizens.

What about our young people?

Everyone can find a job,
because in our country

there is work for all.

Teresa's efforts bear fruit.

Antonio realises the error of his ways,
and now wants to make amends.

Here he is in front of our flag,

a flag we must all
love and respect.

And here is a crowd of patriots,

the valiant who throng
around our president.

Antonio now knows what he must do.
Let us also repeat:

"All for the Nation,
Nothing against the Nation!"

All that you've seen is false.

but people don't know that,
it's essential that they do.

We need people like you,
so that we may learn the truth.

But what can I do?

I concern myself with literature,

as you well know.

So what did you do?

I told her once more,
I don't want to get involved.

Did you give her any money?

Do you know?

You did the right thing.

Let's go back to the tale of
the confederation of souls.

The soul is indivisible and it is
a gift from God. And that's final!

- What about the French médicins-philosophes...
- Another heresy! Enough of that too.

What else did you want to discuss?
I can give you three minutes.

- Three minutes?
- Three minutes.

I think I'm a good Catholic.

I heard about the controversy
between the Vatican and Bernanos,

and I'd like to know
what to make of it.

You're really trying
to upset me today!

- No.
- Yes!

You know that...

I have to obey my superiors.

I have to be obedient!

Unlike you.

- And I don't?
- No.

Very well.

Listen.

After the bombardment of Guernica,

the Basque clergy,

the most devout Catholics in Spain,

allied themselves... with the Republicans.
Come, I'll explain this better.

A French writer,
François Mauriac...

has defended the Basques.
- Mauriac, an outstanding man!

I'll tell Monteiro Rossi
to prepare his obituary.

Why are going to
write an obituary?

Let him live, we need him.

I don't want him to die,
only that a paper has to foresee...

- Let him live in peace!
- All right...

It all became complicated when
the Vatican openly supported Franco,

and proclaimed the Basques
to be "Red Christians",

who must be excommunicated.

Another writer, Paul Claudel,

has sided with
the Vatican and published

a Fascist pamphlet
worthy of a tyrant.

- How is that possible?
- What would you call...

someone who did that?

A vile degenerate!

That's what I'd call him,
a vile degenerate!

- And Bernanos?
- Bernanos has shown the world that...

in Spain, Franco has indeed
carried out a coup d'état.

He has denounced
Franco´s massacres.

Franco is a criminal.

The Vatican is wrong!
The Vatican...

Oh Lord!
Look what you made me say.

I should publish an extract

from Diary of a Country Priest
by Bernanos. What do you think?

That's a splendid idea!
Your three minutes are up.

Come again soon, but next time...

commit a sin first.

Otherwise I won't even be able
to hear your confession.

A sin?

Good morning, Dr. Pereira,
How are you?

I'm fine. Thank you, Celeste.

No letters this morning.

Not even any telephone calls.

Forgive me, but how do you know that?

An inspector came

and had your phone connected to mine.

So from now on...

This is a switchboard.

What if I have to
make a call?

It'll go through the switchboard,
in other words me.

I didn't really want a switchboard...

I have to cook
my husband's lunch,

and... he's so demanding.

I realised that, what with the smell
of frying fat in the staircase!

Hello?

Just a moment.

Hello?

Dr. Pereira, there's a call for you.
Shall I say you're out?

Why would you
say that if I'm in?

How do I know what you want?
I'm the charwoman, not an operator.

Never mind, the
Thalassothrepry clinic is calling.

- Thalassotherapy!
- Thalasso... what? Yes, that's it.

Anyway, did you lose weight
at this Thalasso place?

Will you put me through or not?

Dr. Cardoso, what a pleasure!

This afternoon? Splendid!

We could meet at
the Café Orquidea.

Agreed.

"The Prussians
had invaded the country."

All the local population
have gathered at the school.

The teacher stood up,
went to the blackboard

in a silence that enveloped
both pupils and parents

and wrote in capital letters:

VIVE LA FRANCE.
Then he left

the classroom, overcome
with emotion and tears in his eyes."

- My compliments.
- Thank you.

Congratulations, you did it!

A toast to your new dominant ego

that's emerging from
the confederation of souls.

- As you can see, it wasn't censured.
- Absolutely.

Manuel!

Ah, Dr. Pereira!

- My physician and friend, Dr. Cardoso.
- Good afternoon, Doctor.

What's happened today?

Conflicting stories.

The Nationalists took the north,
but the Republican held the centre.

It seems Mussolini
has sent Franco

a large number of
submarines full of weapons.

That's all.

I haven't told you my news.

I'm going to France,
to the clinic at Saint-Malo.

I leave in two weeks.

No, don't leave us, doctor.

This country needs men like you.

On the contrary, this country
has no need of me.

I can't do anymore here.

I'll leave before the catastrophe.
- What catastrophe?

I anticipate a general catastrophe.

But I'm not here
to discourage you.

On the contrary,
I'm here to cheer you up!

Tell me about your
youths, how are they?

I'm worried about them.

I saw Marta the other day,
but have no news of the boy.

I wish I could...
do something for him.

- You've already done a lot for him.
- But I'd like to do more.

If your new dominant ego comes
to the fore, you'll do more.

What if this new ego
changes me completely?

What will become of
the real me and my past?

This is precisely
what you need.

You must break with the past,
and need to forget it.

To put it in Freudian terms:

You should have a wake
for your past and put it behind you,

and think about
here and now.

For example...

by smoking half a cigar
and giving me the other half.

Yes.

Another thing, Dr. Pereira.
Don't talk to your wife's portrait any more.

If you have a problem to solve,
do so with the living.

Agreed?

He says I must stop
living in the past,

and favour the confederation of souls.

I concur with the
dominant ego, but...

I'll go on talking to you.

"Here gleams the treasure

that sways the heart.

But is hidden..."

Hello?

Good evening, Sir.

You wanted to see me?

Might I ask...?
No.

In the morning? As you wish.

Good bye, Sir.

Pereira maintains the police
were on every street corner.

Or so it seemed.

Passing by, he heard an officer say:

Keep your eyes wide open,
the subversives are everywhere.

Pereira maintains
he didn't like that at all.

Let's drop the formalities,
Pereira, to save time.

It's been a month
since we last met.

No, we met at the spa hotel.
Perhaps you don't recall?

Please don't contradict me!

Sit down.

How was your stay at the spa?

You're still tanned.

I even lost ten kilos.

Never mind the holidays!

Let's talk about the cultural page.
You do what you like!

Sir, when you gave me
the editor's post,

you said,
"Pereira, I don't care for culture.

Do as you please,
it's up to you."

- Did I say that?
- Yes, verbatim.

I've changed my mind.

Let's get to the point.

I must say I didn't
expect this of you.

What is it that
you didn't expect of me?

This idolisation of France

has caused extreme discomfort
in high places.

Idolisation?

Oh come now, Pereira!

The story that ends with the cry
Vive la France!

But the censors
didn't say anything.

The censors!
They're a bunch of illiterate imbeciles.

Major Lourenço, the Chief Censor,

is a friend, but obviously he can't read
everything that journalists write.

We're expected to be vigilant.

We must watch over ourselves.

We must censor ourselves
whenever necessary.

As I told you,
it was a patriotic story.

Yes, but I thought
you meant Portuguese patriotism,

not French patriotism. Oh really!

You must write about
our nation and our race.

But there is no Portuguese race.

No, no, I... meant to say that...

We the Portuguese
are not a race,

rather a mixture
of different peoples.

Celts, Romans, Arabs, Jews.

Listen carefully, Pereira.
From now on,

you must consult me first
on whatever you want to publish.

Is that clear?
- Yes indeed, Sir.

I believe our discussion
has ended.

I'd like our relationship...

to be based on
mutual respect, trust

and beliefs.
Belief in the same ideals.

Is that agreed?
- Yes, yes, I...

- Agreed?
- Yes, of course.

- Agreed!
- Yes.

What are you doing here?
Where have you been?

I'll explain later...

Water,
please give me some water...

Come in.

Drink slowly,
otherwise you'll choke.

I haven't drunk
in two days.

- Here.
- Thank you.

Sit down.

Now tell me.

My cousin was arrested while we were
recruiting volunteers in the south.

And I...
- And you?

I escaped by a miracle.
I came on foot.

- Does anyone know that you're here?
- No one, not even Marta.

Don't turn me out, Dr. Pereira.
- No, no, you're safe here.

The charlady and my neighbour
are on holiday.

I need to sleep.

I can hardly stand up.

Come along.

Here you are.
- I'll never forget what you've done.

They're passports for the volunteers.

Hide them.

One last thing.

I have to contact Marta.

Here's her number.

Tell her I'm safe.

All right.

Get some sleep.

Good morning, Manuel.
- Good morning.

It's the first time I've seen you so early.
Is everything well?

I need to make a call,
but I can't do it from home.

Follow me.
- Thank you.

- Nobody can hear you here.
- Thank you.

I'll leave you.

Hello?

Is Marta there please?
Hello?

Monteiro Rossi.

Monteiro Rossi,
time to get up.

- How long have I slept?
- Long enough.

I called Marta,

but they hung up.
It was rash of me.

Now they know
we're looking for her.

Don't worry, Marta can
take care of herself.

May I freshen up?
- Of course, this way.

I'll give you a clean shirt.

If you give up journalism,
you'll have another career

...as a cook!
- Thank you.

I brought you another article.

Good, let's hear it.

The famous Spanish poet García Lorca
has died in suspicious circumstances.

He inspired people with his passion for
the theatre, culture and liberty.

We know who killed him,
General Franco's thugs.

We loved García Lorca
for his poetry,

today we mourn him
for his courage

and his sacrifice...

Yes I know, even this won't do.

I must confess,

I didn't write these obituaries.

Marta suggested
most of them.

But I wrote this one
by myself.

Yes, I realised that.

It's somewhat careless.

Yes, but do you know

the battle cry of
the Spanish Nationalists?

"Long live death!"

And I love life.
I told you that, remember?

I wouldn't have been able
to talk about death.

Basically you're right.
I too can stand it no longer.

It's a good article,
written from the heart.

Hide.

I'm coming!

Who's there?

Open up, police!
- Just a minute!

- Police, open up! Open up

or we'll break the door down!

Security police.

We're here to search
the house.

Show me your search warrant.

Did you hear?

What search warrant?

Isn't the captain's word
good enough?

Would you rather have this?

Now listen, Pereira.

We know you're a good man.

You just didn't know
who you're dealing with.

Isn't that so?

You can't search
without a warrant.

He says we can't search
without a warrant.

Fonseca, what can we do
to convince him?

That's no way to treat an intellectual...

Or he'll wet himself...

Right, Dr. Pereira?
Try to understand.

We've nothing against you,
we only want to teach that delinquent

a lesson. He was a student,
but lost his sense of patriotism.

We're here to help
him get it back

and to find a certain girlfriend of his.

Oh, very interesting...

an intimate meal,
how romantic.

We know you're a widower
and don't have woman friends.

So if you like young boys,
it doesn't bother us.

You're despicable!
All this is despicable!

That's enough!
Did you understand?

Get him out of here
or I'll smash the place up!

As for you, I'll beat
your bloody face in! Got it?

I'm here.

Lima, he's yours.

Let me go!

Tell him to stop!

Don't touch me.
Don't touch me!

We won't touch him

If he tells us where the girl is,
we'll let him go.

- I want to call the police.
- I am the police!

Go on, what are you waiting for?
Call me.

Where's the phone?

Hello? Police.

Yes, this is the police.
The police. Yes, yes.

Delicious!

One evening I'll come over
and you can cook like this, all right?

What are they doing to him?
I'm going to see.

Stay put, you bloody bastard!

Well?
- He didn't talk.

We'd better go.

Listen carefully.
You've never seen us before, right?

Don't get too clever,
or we'll come after you next time.

Let's go.

Monteiro Rossi!

They've gone.

They left,

it's over,

they've...

Monteiro...

Manuel...

What's wrong?
- No, nothing. I need your help.

Have this message delivered
to my friend Dr. Cardoso.

Please, it's urgent.
- Of course, you can rely on me.

His name was
Francesco Monteiro Rossi.

He was of Italian origin,

and a contributor to this newspaper.

He wrote about the great writers of our era,

from García Lorca to Mayakovski.

As yet they've not been published,
maybe one day they will be.

He was a likeable young man

who loved life.

He was viciously beaten to death,

his skull smashed
with a pistol butt.

His body lies on the second floor
of Rua da Saudade 22.

He was murdered by
three evil individuals.

the first, a thin man,
was called "Captain",

and the other two,
the size of bears,

answer to the names
of Fonseca and Lima.

We ask all citizens to
be vigilant and to report

any such acts of brutal violence

complicitly perpetrated
in this country.

Monteiro Rossi was in love with
a young and brave girl,

who loved freedom.

Should this girl read our article,

we offer her
our deepest condolences

for her loss, with our respects.

Monteiro Rossi, this publication
remembers and honours you.

Signed Pereira.

Monteiro Rossi, this publication
remembers and honours you.

Signed Pereira,
but...?

You're prepared to sign this?

This is a very serious matter.

You bring me such an article
without the censors' approval?

You've known me for 30 years
and never a single problem.

It was different back then.
- No! It must come out today.

I spoke with the Chief Censor,
and got his verbal consent.

- The Chief Censor?
- Yes, Major Lourenço.

We were school friends.

I showed it to our chief editor.

You're a friend of Major Lourenço?

Listen, call him
and speak to him directly.

You, in person.

Ask for the Major yourself.

Hello? Yes, I'm calling
from the Lisboa printing works.

Major Lourenço, please.
- One moment.

Major Lourenço is in a meeting.

Please hold.

The clerk says
he's in a meeting.

Give it to me.

This is Pereira
- Ah, Dr. Pereira!

Tell the Major that
I must speak to him.

Wait, the Major is here.
I'll put him on immediately.

Hello Pereira, what's up?
- I'm at the printers.

It's about that article I read to you.

Your approval.
The foreman's worried.

I've already told you that
the nation must know.

I know.

The nation must know...
Yes, I'll put him on.

Major Lourenço?
Yes, Major!

What's your name, my good fellow?

Listen to me carefully, Pedro.

You should be proud to publish
an exclusive article by Dr. Pereira.

I'm astonished that as a citizen
and printer, you're so reluctant.

Please forgive me, Major.

What page did you
think to put it on?

On the cultural page?

No, my friend!
On the front page!

Thank you Major, it shall be done.

Yes, Major.

The front page! He ordered me
to put it on the front page.

If that's what the Major wants...

Good heavens, Pereira,
you've come up in the world!

Well yes.

What am I doing?

I'll explain later.

"The secret of discovery

Is trapped within us."

Silly girl! Did you think
I'd leave you behind?

The paper will be out soon
and we've no time to lose.

"Sways the heart

and in fervent hands."

Journalist brutally slain!

Young journalist brutally slain!

Pereira maintains that while he
passed through the crowd,

he felt that his age
no longer weighed him down.

As if he were a boy again,
agile and slim,

with so much
zest for life.

Then he remembered
the beach at Granja

and a delicate girl

who had given him
the best years of her life.

And, remembering all that,
he wanted to dream,

a beautiful dream
with his eyes wide open.

But Pereira doesn't wish
to reveal this dream

as he'd prefer to
explain it himself

to the person who
told this story.

"The secret of discovery

is trapped within us.

Here gleams the treasure

that sways the heart

but is hidden

in words and fervent hands,

in the sweetness of tears

and warm embraces."

Translated by David Cox
rollxsf [at] gmail dot com