All language subtitles for Pedro.Paramo.2024.1080p.WEB-eng

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I came to Comala
because I was told my father lived here.

One Pedro Páramo.

That's what my mother told me.

And I promised her I'd come,

for she was near death,
and I of a mind to promise her anything.

Before this she had told me,

"Don’t ask him for anything."

"Demand of him what's ours."

"For the neglect he showed us, my son…

make him pay."

I never thought I'd keep my promise.

Until I began to fill myself with dreams.

To give flight to illusions…

And I started forming a world built
around the hope that was that man…

my mother's husband.

And why are you headed to Comala,
if I might ask?

I'm going to see my father.

He'll throw you quite the party.

He'll be glad to see someone.

And what's your father like?

I don't know him.

I just know his name is Pedro Páramo.

You don't say.

Do you know Pedro Páramo?

Who is he?

A living resentment.

-It's hot here.
-Yes.

This is nothing.

You'll feel it worse
when we get to Comala.

They say

many who die there and go to hell,

come back for their blankets.

I'm also Pedro Páramo's son.

You sure we've made it to Comala?

I'm sure, señor.

Why does it look so sad?

It's the times, señor.

It looks abandoned.

It doesn't just look that way. It is.

Nobody lives here.

And Pedro Páramo?

Pedro Páramo died many years ago.

Where can I find a room?

Look for Doña Eduviges
if she's still alive.

Tell her I sent you.

And what's your name?

Abundio…

I bring the same eyes with which
my mother saw these things.

She told me,

"There you'll find my town,

raised on the hillside,

full of trees and leaves."

"You'll hear me better there."

"I'll be closer to you."

"I would've liked to tell her,

'You lead me astray.'"

"You sent me to a lonesome town."

"Searching for someone who doesn't exist."

Excuse me.

Do you know where Doña Eduviges lives?

Over there.

The pink house with arches.

I'm Eduviges Dyada.

Come in.

This way.

What's all this?

Just stuff.

The house is full of stuff.

Those who left chose it
to store their things,

but nobody has returned for them.

So, you're her son?

Whose son?

Doloritas.

Yes, but how did you know?

She told me you'd be coming.

That you'd come today.

Who? My mother?

Yes.

Her.

This is your room.

I keep it ready in case someone stops by.

There’s nowhere to lie down.

Don’t worry about that.

Tiredness is a good mattress for fatigue.

It's not easy to arrange
everything in no time.

And your mother didn’t
let me know until now.

My mother's dead.

So that's why her voice sounded so weak.

Now I understand.

How long's it been since she passed?

Around seven days now.

She must've felt abandoned.

We promised we would die together.

To give each other courage
on that final journey.

So, she beat me to it, huh?

But you can be sure I'll catch up to her.

I know how to shorten the paths.

It all consists of dying when one chooses,

and not when He mandates.

First come have a bite to eat.

-A little something.
-I'll come.

I'll come later.

What's taking you so long in the privy,
young man?

Nothing, Mama.

If you stay in there much longer,
a snake will come out and bite you.

Let out more string, Susana!

Good.

-No, no!
-Oh no.

I love this place because of you,

but I hate it for everything else.

Even for having been born here.

I'll come visit from time to time.

You're not coming back.

You'll never return.

I told you to come out of the privy.

I'm coming, Mama.

I'm coming.

Your father says
we can't count on you for anything.

That you're becoming useless.

Shouldn't you be working?

No. Rogelio doesn't pay me.

You don't work at Rogelio's
to earn money. You work there to learn.

For now, you have to resign yourself.

Let others resign themselves, Grandma.

I'm not one for following orders.

You and your strange ideas!

I feel that things won't go well for you,
Pedro Páramo.

I believed that woman was crazy.

Later I didn't believe anything.

I felt in a faraway place

and let myself go.

Yes, it's true.

I was close to being your mother.

She never told you?

She only told me good things.

I heard about you
from the mule driver who brought me here.

A man named Abundio.

He's a good one, that Abundio.

I used to tip him
for each traveler he'd send my way.

Until he went deaf.

The one I'm talking about
could hear just fine.

Anyway, getting back to your mother.

The thing is,
when she was to marry Pedro Páramo,

they told her she could not lie
with a man that night

since the moon was upon her.

So she asked me to go in her place.

You slept with Pedro Páramo?

I got into bed with him gladly.

But the day's excitement

had left him worn out,
and he spent the night snoring.

You were born the following year.

But not to me.

Although it was very close!

Maybe your mother didn't tell you

out of shame.

I brought a portrait of her.

Your mother always loathed Pedro Páramo.

He would do nothing
but complain and order her about.

And even though
she was no stranger to hardship,

her humble eyes hardened.

That's when she began to sigh.

Finally, Pedro Páramo sent her away
to live with her sister.

We lived with her in Colima.

Some months later,
I asked Pedro Páramo about her.

"How will they survive?" I would ask.

And he would say,
"Let God take care of them."

"Let God take care of them."

When will you rest?

Wake up!

Why are you crying, Mama?

Your father has died.

They've killed your father.

And you, Mother? Who killed you?

When will you rest?

Is something wrong, Doña Eduviges?

It's Miguel Páramo's horse.

Galloping along the road to Media Luna.

So someone still lives at the Media Luna?

No, no one lives there.

I don't understand.

-I don't hear a horse, either.
-No?

Then it must be my sixth sense.

A gift from God.

Or perhaps a curse.

Who was Miguel Páramo?

Pedro Páramo's son.

Another son?

The only one he recognized as his own.

He would spend some nights at my house.

Until he met a girl from Contla.

At night, he'd set off to visit her…

and would return in the early dawn.

But that night he didn't return.

His horse was still passing by
when I felt someone knocking at my window.

It might have just been my imagination.

What happened?

Did she break it off?

That's not it.

It's just that I lost the town.

What are you saying, Miguel?

There was a lot of fog.

Or smoke.

Or who knows what. What I do know,
is that Contla doesn't exist.

I came to tell you
because I know you understand me.

If I told anyone else in Comala,
they'd say I'm crazy.

Like they always do.

Not crazy, Miguel.

You must be dead.

Remember you were told
that horse was going to kill you one day.

I only jumped over that stone fence
my father recently put up

to avoid having to go
all the way around it.

But there was nothing but smoke.

Go.

Go rest in peace, son.

I'm grateful you came to say goodbye.

Let us give thanks!

Father, we want you to bless him!

No. I won't do it.

He was an evil man
and he won't enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

God would be offended
if I intercede on his behalf.

You know who they buried today?

Yes, Uncle.

You're sure it was him, right?

Not completely sure, Uncle.

I didn't see his face.

He found me at night, and it was dark.

So, how'd you know it was Miguel Páramo?

Because he said so.

He told me his name.
He said to not be afraid.

But you knew he was responsible
for your father's death, didn't you?

Yes, Uncle.

So, what did you do to push him away?

I didn't do anything.

He said he had come to apologize…

I thought about what you taught me.

That we should never hate anyone.

Then I felt him on top of me

as he began doing bad things to me.

I thought he was gonna kill me.

Now he must be sinking
to the very depths of hell

because that's
what I've asked all the saints for.

You mustn't be too sure of that, child.

Who knows how many are praying
for him right now.

Besides, I've given him absolution.

What are you saying, Uncle?

Let's thank the Lord,
for He has taken him from this earth,

where he has caused so much harm.

Even if now
He has now received him in Heaven.

Excuse me, Father Rentería.

What do you need?

My sister has died.

How did it happen?

She took her own life.

What do you want me to do, María?

I came to ask you to save her.

But she killed herself.

She acted in defiance of God.

She failed at the last hour.

So many good deeds
accumulated toward salvation,

only to lose them in an instant.

But she didn't lose them.

She died choking on her own blood.

Full of pain.

And pain…

You once told us something
about pain that I no longer remember.

I mean, perhaps
by saying a few Gregorian Masses.

But we'd need to ask for assistance,
send for priests.

And that costs money.

I don't have money.

You know that, Father.

Let's leave things as they are.

Let's put our faith in God.

Yes, Father.

…with your forgiveness

Ave Maria

Save her soul

From purgatory

With your forgiveness

The light of the candle

Grants eternal rest

Have you ever heard the moan of the dead?

You'd better not, son.

Doña Eduviges.

Doña Eduviges?

Doña Eduviges!

Are you not coming back?

Let me go to my house!

Let me go to say goodbye to my wife!
Let me go!

Don Fulgor!

No!

Doña Eduviges, is that you?

I'm not Eduviges.

My name is Damiana.

I heard you were here,

and I came to find you.

Damiana Cisneros?

Did you live in the Media Luna?

That's where I live. That's why
it's taken me a while to get here.

My mother told me about a Damiana
who cared for me when I was born.

I've known you since you first
opened your eyes, Juan Preciado.

I'll come with you.
I don't know what's happening here.

Strange things are happening.

I have to tell you…

a few moments ago,

from that very room…

I heard someone wailing.

As if in torment.

Perhaps it's an echo trapped in there.

In that room, they hanged Toribio Aldrete
a long time ago.

Then they sealed the door
until his body dried out.

I don't know how you got in.

There's no key to open the door.

No one's gonna say
you're not man enough, Don Fulgor.

I know you are capable.

And not on account of the authority
behind you, but on your own.

But you and I are gonna use
this paper to wipe ourselves.

Since that's all it's good for.

And now that I know what this is about,
I can't help but laugh.

Allegedly, "Toribio Aldrete

has not adjusted
to the limits of his property,

and placed the dividing barriers

on the land of the Media Luna,

property of Don Pedro Páramo."

Doesn't it make you laugh too, Don Fulgor?

Alleged "usufruct."

"Usufruct," you say.

Your patrón should be ashamed
for being so ignorant.

Say, Viges…

Can I use the room upstairs?

Anything you need, Don Fulgor.

Are your men going to stay the night?

Just one of them.

Don't worry about us and go to bed.

Just leave us the key.

Sit down, Fulgor.

We can talk at ease.

Why don't you sit?

I'd prefer to stand, Pedro.

Whatever you want.
But don't forget the "Don."

-How's that going?
-What?

You know what, the Media Luna.

Not well.

There is nothing left.

We've sold the last of the livestock.

Look. I won't get into details
because you don't even know the place.

I mean, I've never seen you there.

To date, we owe…

Who do we owe?

I don't care how much.
Just to whom we owe.

Well, our greatest debt
is to the Preciado sisters.

And then with the Fregoso,
and the Guzmán families.

There's nothing left to pay them.
That's the issue.

And why's that?

Well, because your family used it all up.

They took and took,
without giving anything back.

I used to say to your late mother,
may God rest her soul,

"You're gonna bleed this place dry."

And that's what happened.

Although someone may be interested
in buying the land, and they'd pay well.

-Would that be you?
-How could you believe that?

I'd believe anything, Fulgor.

Okay.

Tomorrow we'll start
putting our affairs in order.

Beginning with the Preciado sisters.

-You say that we owe them more?
-Yep.

I understand one of them
went to live in the city. To Colima.

And Lola, I mean, Doña Dolores, became
the sole owner of the Enmedio ranch.

She's the one we'll have to pay.

Tomorrow you'll ask Lola
for her hand in marriage.

How do you think she'd want me?
I'm an old man.

No, you'll ask her for me!

After all, she has a certain charm.

Tell her I'm very much in love with her.
Do that first thing tomorrow.

Yep.

Ask Father Rentería
to make the arrangements.

How much money do you have?

None, Don Pedro.

Promise it to him.
Tell him we'll pay him when we can.

Don't you want to sit down?

I'll have a seat, Don Pedro.

Truth is,
I'm beginning to like working with you.

Tell Lola I love her.

-That's important.
-Yeah.

Truly, Sedano, I love her.

For her eyes, you know?

For her eyes, of course!

Forgive me for blushing, Don Fulgor.

But I never thought Don Pedro
would notice me.

He can't sleep, thinking of you.

But he could choose anyone.

There are so many pretty girls in Comala.

What will they say when they find out?

He's a reserved man.

Don Lucas Páramo, may he rest in peace,
told him you weren't worthy of him.

And he kept quiet out of pure obedience.

Now that his parents are gone,

there's nothing to stand in the way.

Let's set the wedding
for the day after tomorrow.

What do you think?

Isn't that rather soon?

I don't have anything prepared.

I’ll need to arrange for the wedding
garments and write to my sister.

No. I won't be ready before April 8th.

Ask him to wait just a few days.

He'd prefer to do it right now.

Don't worry about the bridal goods,
we'll take care of it.

Don Pedro's deceased mother
expects you to wear her dress.

It's a family tradition.

But there's something else
about that date.

Women's issues, you know?

I'm mortified
to say it out loud, Don Fulgor.

It's my lunar cycle.

I'm so embarrassed.

And so what?

Marriage isn't about whether
it's your time of the month or not.

It's about loving each other.

I don't think you're understanding me.

I understand. The wedding
will be the day after tomorrow.

Don't forget to tell the judge
that the property will be owned jointly.

Jointly.

Yes, Don Fulgor.

Excuse me.

Put water on to heat, Damiana.

Yes, ma'am.

I'll get this started as quickly
as possible. Maybe as early as tonight.

Even so,
it's gonna last my usual three days.

Thank you.
Thank you, God, for giving me Don Pedro.

Even if later he despises me.

So, Don Fulgor,
will the Media Luna be sold?

Should we find another job?

You don't know what work is.
But you'll learn. Don't worry.

Don Fulgor, are you not leaving then?

Didn't you say that Pedro was a lazy bum?

That's what my patrón,
Don Lucas used to say.

"That he would not take care of him
even in his old age," he said.

My son turned out bad.

From now on,
you will all call him "Don Pedro."

She's been asked and more than willing.

The priest wants 60 pesos
to overlook the marriage bans.

I told him he'd be paid in due time.

Didn't you ask Dolores for an advance?

No, patrón.

Truth is, I didn't dare.

Fulgor, you're such a child.

I didn't want to dampen her spirits.

Next week, you'll go see Aldrete.

Tell him to redo the fence.
He's on land that belongs to Media Luna.

His measurements are accurate.
I'm sure of it.

Well, tell him he made a mistake.
That he's figured wrong.

Tear down the fencing if need be.

And the laws?

What laws, Fulgor?

From now on,
we'll be the ones making the laws.

File a complaint accusing him of usufruct.

Remind him Lucas Páramo is dead.
He'll need to deal with me now.

-Yes, patrón. Excuse me.
-Go ahead.

"Usufruct"…

No one can undermine
your manhood, Don Fulgor.

But I'll be damned with that
son of a bitch of a patrón of yours!

What are you going to do?

Take you to rest, patrón.

The day has not yet come
when tequila keeps me from walking.

Go ahead, Toribio.

"Usufruct."

Don Fulgor, no offense,
but I prefer to sleep at home.

For my wife's sake, so she won't worry.

I don't want to trouble you.

It's no trouble at all, Don Toribio.

Let's go.

What are you going to do?

Let me go! Let me go home!

Let me go to say goodbye to my wife!

Let me go!

Have mercy, Don Fulgor!

Don Fulgor!

Don Rubén, I'm glad you came.

Cheers, Don Pedro.

-Thank you.
-Excuse me.

How are you guys doing?

Excuse me.

Gentlemen.

Cheers, Don Pedro.

The boys and I would like
to congratulate you.

Thank you, Fulgor.

Gentlemen.

Is the thing with Toribio Aldrete
taken care of?

That's settled, patrón.

That leaves the Fregosos
and another issue we'll deal with later.

What issue, Don Pedro?

To find who killed my father.

But save that for later.
Right now, I'm busy with my honeymoon.

Let's go then, boys.

-Excuse us, patrón.
-Sure, Fulgor.

Run!

Congratulations.

-Counselor.
-Congratulations.

Shall I take your dish, Father?

Dorotea.

Take this.

God will repay you, Damiana.

When you're done, go out the back.

Excuse me.

What?

I'll be right back. What's going on?

-What?
-He's drunk. He won't notice.

What are you saying, Lola?

How do you think it won't be noticed?

I'm older than you and less dark-skinned.

You can't see that in the dark.

It can't be.

Dolores, you must go.

I didn't finish my menses.

Do me that favor. I'll pay you back.

Take my place.

-That's what we're friends for, right?
-No!

This town is full of echoes.

There was a time when I could hear
the commotion of a party.

The noise made it all the way out
to the Media Luna.

I came down to see
what the fuss was about,

and I saw this,
what we're seeing right now.

The streets as empty as they are now.

But I don't get scared anymore.

I think the day will come
when these echoes will die out.

If they are echoes,
they must come from a voice.

You will hear them.

As if they were coming out
of some crack or under the stones.

This was the Páramos' house.

Since his grandparents came to Comala.

Although, Don Pedro lived
most of his life in the Media Luna,

and I with him.

I became the boss of all his maids.

Just because I knew how to be respected.

I was the only one
who didn't allow him into my bed.

Are you going to the Media Luna?

You'll have somewhere to rest there.

You can't imagine the crowd of souls
that roam these streets.

They are the souls
of those who died unforgiven

and still suffer.

Especially the ones
Pedro Páramo had killed

after his father's murder.

Were there that many?

Yes.

Did my mother also tell you I was coming?

By the way, how is your mother?

She died.

I thought you would've known.

How would I have known?

It's been years since I've known anything.

Then how did you find me?

Are you alive, Damiana?

Damiana?

Damiana Cisneros!

Damiana!

Here, Damiana.

Why are you sighing, Doloritas?

I wish I were a vulture
so I could fly to where my sister lives.

Of course, Doña Doloritas.

You'll leave immediately
to go see your sister.

Let's head back.

Get her bags packed.

It's the least I could do.

My mother lived longing for Comala.

For the return

to the place
where you'd want to live for eternity.

Isn't that Filoteo Aréchiga?

That's him. Pretend not to notice.

Do you think he's following us?

He better not be.

Rumor has it he's the one
who finds girls for Don Pedro.

-Is that so?
-Go in there.

Excuse me.

Excuse me!

I was just passing by.

Don Pedro had no intention of killing me.

He just wanted to know if I was at
the wedding where his father was killed.

He's been getting rid of
all the guests to the party.

But he just wanted to scare me!

Heaven is vast.

What're you doing here?

Are you not dead?

He's drunk.

He's just scared.

Come in.

Are you sick?

I just want to go back
to where I came from.

You'd better wait until tomorrow.

All roads are tangled with brush.

You could get lost.

Tomorrow, I'll get you on track.

Who could he be?

How did he get here?

He must be lost.

Why don't you go to sleep…

and let me rest?

Look at him.

Look how he squirms…

as if he were cursed.

He must be someone who owes many deaths.

It's orange blossom water.

It will calm your fears.

No need to worry about me.

How can I get out of here?

To go where?

Anywhere.

There's a multitude of roads.

Where did your husband go?

He's not my husband.

He's my brother.

He doesn't want to believe it.

But don't you think I'm scary?

Come closer.

Look at my face.

What is it you want me to see?

Don't you see the sin on me?

Don't you see the rash?

And that's just on the outside.

Inside, I'm an ocean of mud.

If you don't mind…

I'd like to get some sleep.

He's not coming back.

I beg your pardon?

I could see it in his eyes.

He was just waiting for someone
to show up so he could leave.

Now you'll have to look after me.

Or what?

Don't you want to take care of me?

Come sleep next to me.

I'm fine where I am.

You'd be better here on the bed.

The ticks will eat you alive down there.

Pedro Páramo laid waste to everything.

That's unforgivable.
And what about the rapes?

We were also afraid of him.

We have to wait until he dies.
You won't get anything from here.

Pray for us, Juan Preciado.

Pray for me, Juan Preciado.

You expect me to believe you died
of suffocation, Juan Preciado?

I found you twisted up.

Like someone who's died of fright.

It's true, Dorotea.

It was the murmurs that killed me.

The fear came late,

and that's when my soul froze.

You hear?

It's raining up there.

Don't you feel the rain beating down?

It feels as if someone's walking
on top of us.

Try to think pleasant thoughts

because we're going to be buried here
for a long time.

Fall, sweet rain, fall.

Keep coming till you're exhausted.

Where are you coming from
this time of day, boy?

I was out milking.

Milking who?

Can't you guess?

It must be Dorotea, La Cuarraca.

-She's the only one who likes babies.
-You're an idiot, Fulgor.

Margarita.

Where have you been, Miguel?

Out and about, visiting mothers.

Listen.

Do you know someone named Dorotea?
One they call "La Cuarraca?"

If you want to see her,
she's right outside.

She rises early to come here
for some breakfast.

She's a poor woman who lives on handouts.

Damned old man.

Dorotea!

Come here. I've got a deal for you.

Bring on those eggs.

From now on, you'll feed
that woman the same thing as me.

Don't be stingy.

Fulgor!

-Excuse me, patrón.
-How are we doing?

We drove the cattle from Enmedio Ranch
past what used to be the Fregosos'.

And the Fregosos',
we ran them to the hills of Vilmayo.

Okay.

What's wrong with you?

Someone came by this morning,
accusing your son Miguel of killing a man.

Pretend it was me.

Anything he does, put the blame on me.

Miguel's gonna cause you
a lot of headaches, patrón.

He likes trouble.

Give him space. He's just a child.

How old is he now?

He must be 17. Right, Fulgor?

Could be.

But he's so violent and always in a hurry.

Sometimes it feels like
he's racing against time.

He'll end up losing. You'll see.

He's still a baby, Fulgor.

Whatever you say, patrón.

But the woman who came claiming
that your son killed her husband

was beyond hysterical.

Who was it?

People I don't know.

Don't worry about it, Fulgor.
Those people don't exist.

Keep calm. Let's do nothing.

All right.

Excuse me, patrón.

My mother used to tell me
about the green plains and the clouds.

And yet, she was unable
to return to die here.

Even for that, she sent me in her stead.

It's strange, Dorotea.

How I never even got to see the sky.

I lost all interest in Heaven

when Father Rentería assured me
I'd never know God's glory

on account of my sins.

But he shouldn't have told me that.

When they slam a door in your face,

and the only one left open
takes you to hell…

it would be better to not have been born.

I'm told Doña Susana
and her father left Mascota.

Where did they go?

I've gone all over the range asking.
Some say this way, others say that way.

I can't find them, Don Pedro.

Spare no expense. Keep looking!

-The earth couldn't have swallowed them!
-Whatever you say, Don Pedro.

Not like that!
Turn him, and take him in headfirst.

What did they do to him?

No one did anything to him.

He found death all by himself.

His horse killed him, Don Pedro.

I'm beginning to pay.

Better start early, to finish sooner.

When you can,
put that animal out of its misery.

Indeed, Don Pedro.

Don Pedro,
Father Rentería would like to see you.

Now?

Tell him to come in.

Father, come in.

Sorry to interrupt.

Don Pedro, I was told that his mother
died giving birth and that he's yours.

Here he is.

Why don't you keep him, Father?

Make him a priest.

Not with the blood inside him.
I don't want that responsibility.

You think I have bad blood?

I really do, Don Pedro.

I'll prove you wrong.

Leave him here. There are plenty
of people who'll take care of him.

That's what I figured.

At least with you,
he won't lack sustenance.

Damiana!

Come take care of this thing.

It's my son.

Here's to the late mother and to you.

And to the infant?

To him as well. Why not?

Here.

Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord,

and let perpetual light shine upon him.

Have mercy on Thy servant, O Lord.

May he rest in peace. Amen.

I know you hated him, Father.

And rightly so.

Your brother's murder.

The case of your niece, Ana.

But forget all that now.

Think it over and forgive him,
as perhaps God has forgiven him.

Accept this as a donation to your church.

Thou wilt know if this is the price.

For my part, Lord, condemn him.

O Mary.

Conceived without sin.

Tell me your sins, my child.

I confess, Father, that last night
I slept with Pedro Páramo.

What else?

I'm going to have Pedro Páramo's child.

I gave my daughter to Pedro Páramo.

May the evil you have done serve for…

Serve to elevate…

Merciful Father.

Hail purest Mary.

Conceived without sin.

So now you're getting drunk?

Now that I can't cause him any harm…

I can say

I was the one who got all those girls

for the late Miguelito Páramo.

You took them to him?

Sometimes I did.

Other times, I'd just set it up.

Or I told him when they'd be all alone
so he could take them by surprise.

Father…

Father, aren't you going to give me
any penance?

What would you have me do
with you, Dorotea?

Be your own judge.
See if you can forgive yourself.

I can't, Father.

But you can.

How many times have you come here

asking me to send you
to Heaven when you die?

You were hoping
to find your son there, right, Dorotea?

Well,

you won't be going to Heaven anymore.

But may God forgive you.

Her eyelashes were already still.

And her heart was still as well.

Was that you saying all that, Dorotea?

Are they still frightening you?

There is nothing but a dead thing here.

I heard someone speaking.

A woman's voice.

I thought it was you.

It must be the woman who talks to herself.

The one in the large grave.

Doña Susanita.

She's buried here beside us.

What happens with old corpses

is that when moisture reaches them,
they begin to stir.

And they wake up.

And who is she?

Pedro Páramo's last wife.

They say she was insane.

What is she saying?

She just complains.

Maybe he made her suffer.

Don't believe that.

He loved her.

I'm about to say that he loved her
more than any other woman.

No. You lost.

Now I remember
her mother died of consumption.

It was then that she
and her father disappeared.

When they brought her
to Pedro Páramo, many years later,

she was suffering.

His love was such

that he spent his remaining years
slumped over in an old chair,

gazing down the road
where she was taken to the cemetery.

It won't take long.

It won't take long.

Excuse me.

Here are the figures
you asked for, Don Pedro.

Oh goodness.

Do you know who's back?

Bartolomé San Juan.

How come?

That's what I want to know.

He went straight
to that old house of yours,

as if you'd already rented
the place to him.

At least, that's how he acted.

I'll clear things up tomorrow, Don Pedro.

Did they both come?

Yep.

He and his wife.

How did you know?

Wouldn't it be his daughter?

Well… considering the way he treats her,
she seems like she's his wife.

It's Susana.

For sure, Fulgor.

We found them
near the abandoned La Andrómeda mines.

What must have brought them here
are the rumors of people up in arms.

Oh, maybe.

They say it's getting quite serious.

He must've wanted to bring her
to a place that's alive.

Go to bed, Fulgor.

With your permission, patrón.

This town tastes of misfortune.

We'll find no salvation here.

I can feel it.

I had imagined that all
he was giving us would not be free.

You know what Pedro Páramo asked me?

He said that all he wants from me

is you.

That you've been my best work.

He says you played together as kids.

That you even swam together in the river.

Had I known,
I would've whipped you to death.

I don't doubt it.

So, you are willing to sleep with him?

-Yes, Bartolomé.
-Don't call me Bartolomé.

I'm your father!

I've told him you're a widow.

And you still live with your husband.

Or at least that's how you act.

I've tried to dissuade him.

But he scowls when I talk to him.

He's pure evil.

That's what Pedro Páramo is.

And who am I?

You're my daughter.

Mine.

The daughter of Bartolomé San Juan.

What have we done?

Why has our soul rotted away?

It is not true.

-It is not true.
-What is not true?

Have you gone mad?

Of course, Bartolomé.

Didn't you know?

Did you know, Fulgor, that she's the most
beautiful woman ever born to this earth?

I began to believe I’d lost her forever.

But I have no intention
of losing her again.

-You understand me, Fulgor?
-I do.

Tell her father
we'll provide what he needs

to keep working in the mines.

I imagine it'll be easier to make the old
man disappear over there, don’t you think?

Could be.

We need it to be.

She has to be orphaned.

It's our duty to support those in need.

And what if she finds out?

Who's going to tell her?

Between the two of us,
who's gonna tell her?

No, surely no one.

Forget "surely."

Forget it, and you'll see
everything turns out fine.

Let him keep working over there,

but he shouldn't think
of taking his daughter.

We'll take good care of her here.

Tell him that, Fulgor.

Once again,
I like how you operate, patrón.

You're getting that youthful spirit back.

Let's go, boys.

Boys.

Welcome, señora.

Please come in.

This way.

Susana.

I'm Pedro Páramo.

Pedro.

Señorita, I'll go with you.

Is that you, Bartolomé?

What have we done?

What's wrong, Damiana?

Why did you scream?

I didn't scream.

You must have been dreaming.

I told you I never dream.

Never.

Besides, I'm exhausted.

You didn't put the cat out last night,
and he wouldn't let me sleep.

The cat slept with me, between my legs.

He was soaked,
so I let him stay in my bed out of pity.

I'm telling you,
he spent the night doing circus tricks.

Even though he is quite affectionate,
I don't want him here while I’m sleeping.

I'm sad for you, Susana.

Your father has died.

He died the night before last,

and today, they told us
that there's nothing to be done.

That they buried him already.

That the journey was too long
for them to bring him here.

You're all alone now.

So then, it was him.

You came to say goodbye.

Tell me what you see, Susana.

I don't see anything, Papa.

I’ll lower you some more.
Tell me when you reach the bottom.

Try to find something.

Money!

Round disks of gold.

Look for them, Susana.

Susana!

Susana!

Susana!

Try to find more, Susana!

Money!

Is that you, Father?

I've come to comfort you, my child.

Your heart is dying.

Don't let your heart die out.

Go away, Father.

And don't come back.

Why are you here if you're already dead?

Now open it. There.

Channel the water that way.

Dig deeper.

That way.

I know that one.

He’s the foreman over at the Media Luna.

How can I help you?

Do you work for Pedro Páramo?

Yes.

Go tell him we are revolutionaries.

That we've come for his lands.

-All right.
-Run!

Go tell him we'll see him there.

Run faster!

Run faster, man!

Faster!

They didn't pay me no mind.

Poor don Fulgor, he died with one foot up
and the other one down.

Go tell those men
I'm here if they need anything.

They should come deal with me.
What sort of revolutionaries are they?

I don't know.
That's what they called themselves.

But first, swing by La Consagración.

You know El Tilcuate,
the one with one eye?

-Tell him I need him quickly.
-Indeed, patrón.

Gentlemen, what else can I do for you?

Well, as you can see, we've taken up arms.

And?

And that's all.
You don't think that's enough?

I mean, why have you done it?

Because others have done it too.
Haven't you heard?

Just wait for our instructions to come,
and then we'll let you know the cause.

I know the cause.

And if you want, I'll explain it.

We've rebelled against the government
and your kind

because we're tired
of putting up with you.

The government for being scoundrels,

and against you because you're
a bunch of greasy freeloaders and thieves.

About Mr. Government, we'll say nothing.

Because we'll tell them
what we want to say with bullets.

How much do you need for your revolution?

Perhaps I could help.

The gentleman here
is making sense, Perseverancio.

We need a rich friend to help us out.

And who better than this señor right here?

Let's see, Casildo!

How much do we need?

This guy wouldn't give water
to Saint Peter's rooster.

Let's make the most of being here now

and take everything he's got,
down to the corn stuck in his gullet.

Calm down, Perseverancio.

Let's come to an agreement.

You talk, Casildo.

Um…

Well, I'd say around 20,000 pesos
would be a good start.

Or maybe the señor considers
that small change,

seeing how he's so excited to lend a hand.

Let's say then, fifty thousand.

Do you agree?

I'll give you 100,000 pesos.

How many are you?

We're three hundred.

All right. I'll lend you another 300 men
to grow your contingent.

You'll have both the men
and the money within the week.

The money's a gift, the men are on loan.

I don't see why not.

Then we'll see you in a week, señores.

It's been a pleasure to meet you.

Who do you figure is the one in charge?

I'd say the one with a big gut
who sat in the middle

and never once looked up.

I'd bet it's him.

No, Damasio.

You're their boss.

Or don't you want to join the revolt?

I can hardly wait.

Considering how much I like a good rumble.

You've seen what it's all about,
so you don't need my advice.

Gather 300 trusty men,
and join up with the rebels.

You'll figure out the rest on your own.

What about the money?

Should I hand it over?

I'll give you ten pesos for each man.

Enough for their immediate expenses.

Tell them I'm keeping the rest safe here
and at their disposal.

Don't wander too far from my property,

so if others come,
they'll see the land is occupied.

And come see me when you can
or when you've got news.

-It'll be done. See you, patrón.
-Go ahead.

Now she's the one speaking, Juan Preciado.

What's she saying?

She says
that she'd lose herself inside him,

as she felt her flesh tear open.

But that his death caused her more pain.

That's what she's saying.

Who's she talking about?

Someone who died before her, surely.

Margarita.

Open up, Margarita.

Little piece of meat.

It's the sand.

Bathe with me.

So much foam…

When will this be over?

Nothing can last this long.

There's no memory,
no matter how intense, that won't fade.

Maybe it's not a memory.

Thirty years…

I waited to have it all.

Not just something,
but everything that could be had.

So that…

there would be nothing left to desire.

Except you.

The desire of you.

When I learned you were finally returning,

I wanted to embrace you…

to wrap you in joy.

And I cried, Susana.

When I learned you'd finally be returning.

Señora.

Isn't it true
that the night is full of sin, Damiana?

Yes, Susana.

And what else is life if not sin?

Don't you hear?

Don't you hear how the earth grinds?

No, Susana.

I don't hear a thing.

I'm not as fortunate as you.

You'd be amazed by the things I hear.

Do you believe in hell, Damiana?

Yes, Susana.

And in Heaven as well.

I only believe in hell.

How's the señora?

Bad. Really bad.

Susana?

I saw Doña Susanita die.

What are you saying, Dorotea?

What I just told you.

I remember the light
in that window went out,

after it had been lit
for more than three years.

Night after night.

Good. Wait here, then.

My mouth is filled with soil.

Yes, Father.

Don't say, "Yes, Father."

Repeat what I tell you.

What are you going to tell me?

You'll hear my confession again?

No, Susana.
I've just come to talk with you.

To prepare you for death.

Am I going to die?

Yes, child.

Then why don't you leave me in peace?

I want to rest.

I'll leave you in peace, Susana.

As you repeat the words I say,

you'll fall asleep.

And no one will wake you up.

All right, Father.

I'll do as you ask.

My mouth is filled with soil.

I swallow the foam of my saliva.

I chew clumps of soil,
crawling with worms.

My mouth twists out of shape,
pierced by teeth.

The gelatin of my eyes melts.

The hair burns in one lone blaze…

He sheltered me in his arms.

He gave me love.

There's more.

The sight of God.

The last fleeting image seen
by those condemned to eternal suffering.

The gentle light of His infinite Heaven.

The joy of the cherubim.

God's joyful gaze.

And not only that,

all of it coalesced
with profound earthly sorrow.

The marrow of our bones set ablaze.

The blood in our veins
turns to strings of fire.

Forcing us to wallow in an immense pain…

that never recedes…

stoked by the wrath of the Lord.

You’ll appear before God.

And His judgment of sinners is inhumane.

Go now, Father.

Don't fret over me.

I'm at peace.

And I want to sleep.

Damiana.

Please go cry somewhere else.

The tolling for that death
lasted longer than it should have.

People began arriving from all over,

drawn in by the ringing of the bells.

And little by little,
things turned into a big party.

Comala was teeming with people,
with celebrations, and noise.

Hey! She's in the air!

Amazing!

Don't get in the way!

The bells finally stopped ringing…

…but the party continued.

There was no way to make them understand

it was mourning, days of mourning.

Fire!

Don't keep standing there, Don Pedro.

Sit down, at least.

I'll cross my arms,

and Comala will die of hunger.

Patrón.

Father Rentería has taken up arms.

And why is that?

Because the revolutionary government
has suspended holy services.

Weren't you with Villa?

Or was it Obregón?

Peace has been made there, Don Pedro.

We're on our own.

What should we do?

Join him or fight him?

No question about it.

Take the side of the government.

But we're irregulars.

They consider us rebels.

Do what you want, then.

I'll join up with the priest.

I like how he yells.

Besides, fighting on his side,
salvation is guaranteed.

Well, patrón…

I'll see you.

-Let's go.
-Let's go.

Since Pedro Páramo threw the people out
and sat down on his equipal chair…

the land became a wasteland
and was left in ruins.

The town started emptying.

All around, people wasted away.

And Comala filled with farewells.

I stayed because I had nowhere to go.

But with the people, the charity
that kept me alive also left.

And I started starving to death.

After we found you,

my bones were determined
to find some rest.

What about your soul?

Where do you think it went?

It begged me to get back up
and carry on with my life.

As if it hoped for some miracle
to cleanse my sins.

I didn't even try.

I opened my mouth to let it escape.

And it took off.

I felt when the thread of blood
that joined it to my heart

fell onto my hands.

I thought no one would mind me.

I never get in anybody's way.

I didn't even need my own space
here in the ground.

They buried me in your grave,

tucked away in the hollow of your arms.

It occurred to me, I should be the one
holding you in my arms.

What about Pedro Páramo?

Years passed, and he was always there,
like a scarecrow.

He'd forgotten about sleep and time.

Because he was afraid of the nights
that filled the darkness with ghosts.

To be locked up with his ghosts.

That's what he was scared of.

Damiana!

Come and see what this man wants.

Give me some money to bury my wife.

Deliver us, O Lord,
from the snares of the evil one.

What did you say?

I've come for a little something
to bury my wife.

I was forced to sell my mules
to pay the doctor, but…

Just go.

It was all for nothing, you know?

She's there…

alone…

enduring the damp air.

Help!

Help! Somebody help us!

Give me something.

Give me something!

Give me something!

Are you all right, patrón?

Let's go.

It's me, Don Pedro.

Would you like me
to bring out your lunch?

I'm coming.

I'm coming now.

BASED ON THE NOVEL BY JUAN RULFO

Adapted subtitles by Leon Elalouf

Preuzeto sa www.titlovi.com