Why are you hammering like that?
Because of the music... I'm Manuel Cueto.
So what? I'm Joaquín Góñez,
but I don't go banging on doors at this hour!
The publisher told me to be here at 9:00.
- I could come back later. - Even later? It's after 10:00.
I was expecting you tomorrow.
Come in, come in.
Are you always so punctual?
Sit down, I'll finish getting dressed.
I won't offer you coffee, it isn't made yet.
Water, tonic? That's all there is.
Nothing, thank you.
Brahms?
Read this out loud.
If you don't understand it, leave.
Tell them to send someone who is more punctual.
I handwrite and I don't like dictating.
Go and smoke outside.
I quit two years ago and smoke drives me crazy.
"Nothing is important.
The worst thing a writer can do is believe that his work is important
and that he must continue writing at that same level.
We must always bear in mind that we are moved by pleasure.
What we do is, or will be, banal, trivial.
One mustn't..."
Take oneself seriously.
"...take oneself seriously.
If all one's work were to disappear it wouldn't matter.
Humanity
would carry on and never miss
what we thought were profound, relevant treatises.
We are..."
Totally...
- Totally dispensable. - "Totally dispensable for History.
If we have a trade and also the tools,
the gift or the talent for doing it well,
if we enjoy working at it and if, above all,
we can earn our living,
let's forget transcendence and enjoy banality."
That's good.
Stevenson, my translation.
How could you read my scrawl?
No matter, you've passed.
I presume you can use a computer.
Kids your age don't know much about anything except computers.
- I'm a proof reader at Omega. - But not here.
I give you the pages and you type them up.
I'll correct them. Don't change a single comma. Understood?
Give the publisher a list of all you need.
Speak to Eduardo so you can have it as soon as possible.
- How much are they paying you? - I'm on staff.
- It's included in my salary. - No, I'll speak to them.
They won't refuse. Afterwards, they'll discount it from me.
Well, then?
Are you interested?
Have you nothing to say?
Yes, I'm interested.
And I apologize for being late.
It won't happen again.
Very well, I'll have it all sent by tomorrow morning.
He wants your salary doubled.
Did you ask him for that?
No, absolutely not, sir. It was his idea.
- Lf it isn't possible... - It is, it's his money.
I'm just surprised.
What did you say that pleased him?
Nothing, he hardly let me speak.
It must be age.
He doesn't like anyone, not even himself.
He was a friend of my father
and got a ridiculous contract I can't break.
I hate having to throw money away on that advance.
He used to have a lot of readers. Today, who knows?
I want you to control him, to make sure he works.
What he likes most is drinking, rambling on,
talking garbage and sleeping.
As well as typing up his work,
you have to keep him disciplined.
I need the originals in two months,
sooner if possible.
I'll do what I can,
but he seems to be difficult.
No, not difficult.
He's got a lousy temperament and he's a real bastard.
Be very tactful, Manuel, and mind your step.
If he notices, he'll kick you out.
And if you don't get him to work, I'll kick you out.
It's a tough call, kid.
Sugar, saccharin?
Nothing, thank you.
- Is it ready? - Almost.
I just need to install a few programs.
It'll take a while.
Tell me what margins to set, sir, what typeface to use.
Garamond.
It's the most elegant.
And large, very legible.
As for the margins...
Leave a large right-hand margin, for any corrections.
Tell me when you've finished.
We'll have lunch in the village.
After that, you can go. We'll start tomorrow.
And don't call me sir.
I look old,
but I'm still a teenager.
The one I have is shit. Powerful sound, but that's all.
I did have a great sound system but I gave it to my wife, my ex,
and my daughter, although they don't appreciate it.
They listen to any rubbish.
It was worth every penny.
The speakers are as tall as you. You get the idea?
The walls shook and my wife would get hysterical.
- Why give it up, sir? - Don't call me sir.
I didn't give up, I just left one day.
No, I was talking about the sound system.
- Couldn't you bring it here? - No, I'm not interested.
I listen to music, at times,
but it's not the same.
I like it, but that's all.
I used to be a real fan,
jazz, Piazzola, classical music.
It moved me.
I was touched
by one of those counterpoints adjusted to the millimeter.
But, bit by bit, I lost it. It went away.
The pleasure went away.
I've got no ear.
It's your loss.
And Brahms?
I read it on the CD cover. I wanted to impress you.
I wanted the job.
- An apprentice bastard, right? - I'm sorry.
No, when it's a question of survival, anything goes.
Do you like your work or is it just work?
It pays my college fees.
- What are you studying? - Journalism.
Doesn't your family help?
At first they did.
They live in Santander, on the coast, in Laredo.
My parents, my grandfather and the four younger kids.
They've got a fishing boat.
Three generations of my family have put to sea every day.
- I broke the chain. - The chains.
Do you like books, films, sports?
If you want to become a critic, don't tell me.
You would immediately earn my deepest contempt.
People.
People interest me.
What they talk about, what's happening to them,
the everyday things that aren't news.
But I find it hard to ask questions.
- I'm too shy. - You'd better fix that.
You can't go round snooping.
To know what people are capable of doing or bearing,
you have to talk to them. It's the only way.
Have you written anything?
Nothing that's worthwhile.
Things I've overheard, in the subway, in bars.
That's good. Why not look for work on a newspaper or a magazine?
I will, in a few months, when I graduate.
Don't wait, you have to show what you can do.
If they pay you to ask questions,
ask them, to hell with embarrassment.
Rubio!
Coffee, a drink?
Black coffee.
You don't have an Argentinian accent.
Well, I arrived in 1967.
So I've been here for 37 years.
Some people never lose it.
A matter of survival.
You had to lose your accent in order to get in and find a job.
They still didn't insult us then
but we had a bad reputation.
Opportunists, arrogant, liars.
We're not all like that, but it seems the worst came.
I was working as a translator,
I had to learn the Spanish that's spoken here.
A coffee and an anise, please.
- Is this the only restaurant? - No, but it's the best.
- Will they bring meals to your home? - Why?
- In case we want to save time. - I'm not in a hurry, are you?
No, I'm not.
But I do need to know my hours, so I can organize myself.
How long does it take to get here, an hour?
We can start around 10:00 and work for six or seven hours.
Until 5:00 p.m. What do you think of that?
That's fine.
If it's ever necessary, I can stay longer.
Velasco told you to hurry me up,
to make me write even if I don't want to.
If we're to get on well, I have to make this clear.
You're working for me now, not for Omega,
agreed?
More or less.
If we don't finish in two months I'll be fired.
I doubt it.
And if they do, all the better.
When a proof reader dies a journalist is born.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY
Get rid of that! I'll find a title, one that sells.
No one is interested in my life. And I don't know what I'll write.
Not much of it will be true.
I'm not going to show myself up to the world.
On the first page, write:
"Each one knows what he is worth.
What one writes is what one is."
Underneath, "Pío Baroja", and go on to the next page.
I don't know what I'm worth.
You're scared to know it, but you do.
I know it.
So I don't want to write anymore.
I haven't published a word in six years.
But I'm broke.
I invented the autobiography to get a good advance.
As soon as I get it all, I'll be gone, I'll disappear.
I need the money so as not to need money.
"A Hidden Fire" is very good.
- You read it? - I'm finishing it.
It sold well, but it's the worst.
The first ones are the best.
I still had things to say.
But not anymore.
They went away.
Like the pleasure of music.
They went away with time, like so many things.
Pío Baroja used to say that
the reader should understand and be entertained.
So it's best to start from the beginning,
with my childhood,
or what's left of it.
I remember very little.
I'm not even sure my memory is correct.
The times are jumbled together, the faces are blurred.
That's what there is.
"The River of Life".
"The River of Life", it sounds like Kipling.
The old lamas, mysterious India.
It's a good title. What do you think?
You've got no idea.
That's awful. Wait, let me see if...
Here it is.
"Kim". It won't do you any harm to read it.
It's for children, you'll understand it.
Do you read or watch TV?
Because sometimes they show the film, with Errol Flynn.
I read a little.
You don't have to please me now.
If you don't read, it's your loss.
But you don't have to treat me like an idiot.
You don't seem to read much either.
- You don't have many books. - Only the ones I like to re-read.
And a few that I'm keeping to read in the future.
I've been keeping these for many years.
13 volumes by Alexander Dumas, whom you don't know.
"The Three Musketeers", "The Viscount of Bragelonne"
and "Twenty Years After".
It's a way of convincing myself
that I still have a lot of time left.
What do you read? Bukowski, or shit like that?
Carver, Auster, Hemingway.
Now I'm reading "Remembrance of Things Past",
but it's hard work.
Forget it.
Leave it in the past. It's more than hard work, it's unbearable.
You could give me a list.
Some guidelines.
For now, stick with Hemingway.
Before we finish, I'll give you one.
Let me rest.
Work, that's what they pay you for.
BUENOS AIRES IN THE 50'S
Chas Park was a middle class neighborhood
laid out in concentric circles cut by a diagonal
with family homes
with six feet of garden in front and a very spacious back yard.
There was an economic boom that had begun at the end of the 40's
and was starting to decline unnoticed.
Life was peaceful and enjoyable.
What was done, what was built, what could be bought
were things that would be had forever.
Sweetheart.
Joaco.
Wake up.
Come on, sweetie, get up.
Come on, come on.
Let him be, Roma, maybe he doesn't want to come.
We'll go without him.
We won't force him.
Are they leaving already?
No, dad was joking.
Pando has arrived, but uncle 'Ateo isn't here yet.
There are tigers here. It smells of tiger.
Don't talk so loud.
He said it to scare you. Here, there are only partridge,
tinamou and a few hares.
Do you know how a tiger smells?
Yes, from the zoo. Doesn't it smell of tiger?
Tigers are in Asia, and in India,
and in the zoo.
Well, then it's you.
Pando smells of tiger!
When was the last time you had a bath?
'Ateo, shut up, you'll scare everything off.
Give the shotgun to Joaco.
Why?
Take the shotgun.
And two cartridges.
Load it carefully.
Close it.
The safety catch.
The first partridge is yours.
Are you crazy, Joaquín? He'll wreck his shoulder!
- His clavicle. - Ignore them, don't be afraid.
Press the butt firmly against your shoulder.
Now, concentrate.
As soon as you see it, press the trigger. Can you do it?
Well done!
It's yours, son. Go and get it.
Be careful, I'm not going to jump in and save you!
Not bad, twenty feet! Now it's my turn.
You want a maté?
Tell me if you see the cork move.
What are rivers for?
For fishing.
For swimming.
For irrigating the land.
Swimming is dangerous. Everything else is good.
You can sail on them, if they're deep.
Travel on them.
They can stop tigers from dying of thirst.
Pando can bathe in them.
You can use them for other things.
If you feel bad, if you're sad,
look for a river and sit down on the bank.
Think of everything that is upsetting you and say it out loud.
Say it as if you were throwing it into the river.
The water will carry it all away.
The grief, the sadness,
the anger about something that has happened.
All the bad stuff... Into the river.
Start again.
C sharp, C.
Let me do it.
Listen, it isn't so hard.
Open the book at the first page.
Write your surname and your class.
Then put it away.
You must bring it every day in case an inspector comes.
But you won't open it again.
In my class, no one will be forced to read this.
Hey, there, champ!
Your dad's coming now.
- Did you eat the partridges? - They were full of pellets.
- Did you swallow them? - No!
Good, if they came out the other end, you could kill somebody!
- You've been very kind. - Please, don't mention it.
- And this young man? - This is my son.
Joaquín, like me.
Pleased to meet you, sir.
Kaminsky. It's my pleasure, Mr. Góñez.
- He's a real gentleman. - Just for the first five minutes.
- How is school going? - Very well.
He's great, he reads English as well as he reads Spanish.
He could read before he went to school.
He read the newspapers to me.
Well done. Do you know what you want to be?
- Yes, a vet. - So you like animals?
That's a good sign.
Delighted to meet you.
I hope you grow up to be as good a man as your father.
- Góñez, thank you again. - Kaminsky, what's fair is fair.
Let's go have fun.
Don't believe all he said, grateful people exaggerate.
"I dedicate 'Bohemian Soul' to my dear son Joaco.
May you be a bohemian, a wayfarer and a dreamer".
- What's a bohemian? - A free man.
Someone who does as he pleases and doesn't just think about money.
And "wayfarer"?
Someone who never stays in the same place, who looks for adventure,
who likes traveling by land and by sea,
getting to know other countries, other people.
He doesn't have a house, just the road.
- Will I be like that? - Who knows? You like traveling.
- But can I travel with you two? - With mom and me? For now, yes.
Later, you'll find your own way.
Wayfarer and dreamer.
I want to sing my fantasy
and that insane poetry
that fills my heart.
Look at those meringues, they look wonderful.
- And the chocolate éclairs. - The chantilly cream is best.
Come on.
This tango is for Roma,
for my beloved Romita who is my whole life
and who allows me to share hers.
The dedication is a bit twee.
I love you very much.
Thank you.
Sugar is bad for your blood pressure.
Dr. Cassano is always telling you that.
I bought them for Joaco, isn't that right?
There were chocolate éclairs.
These are healthier.
I'll taste one.
Just a half.
For once.
When we started building, there was nothing here.
In front there were some brick ovens and the streets weren't tarred...
A big hand for the chef!
And another one for the king of the barbecue!
- What's wrong? - Dad is waiting for you.
- Didn't he go to work? - He felt ill and came home.
It was just his blood pressure.
Dr. Cassano told him to stay in bed for a while
and he'll be over it in no time.
- How was school? - Fine.
Wait, not so fast, I'm lost.
Tell me in Spanish.
"I slipped the bolt at once
and we stood and panted for a moment in the dark,
alone in the house with the dead captain's body.
Then, my mother
got a candle from the bar
and, holding each other's hand,
we advanced into the 'parlor'..."
I don't know what "parlor" is. It must be a room.
The captain was as we had left him,
on his back, with his eyes open and one arm stretched out...".
This is a real car, the Chevrolet is a wagon.
Tell your dad to hurry.
- Dad! - I'm coming!
- We're going to be so late. - The Casino doesn't close.
But we have to eat something, prawns, maybe.
Only a few for you.
Have some fish, it's good for you.
You two are in charge.
Very little shellfish or wine, no coffee,
and no loose women, at least for Joaquín.
Pando, you're not to go crazy either.
'Ateo can do as he wants, he needs a girlfriend.
I can't let just anyone hook him.
- I have to meet the girl and... - You're such a rogue!
Why do you need to meet her? They're all the same.
Bye, Romita.
If you don't trust me, come along.
No, I was joking, This is for men only.
Tell that to my wife.
Bye, son.
Behave yourself and look after mom.
Well, so long.
Come on, it's late.
What's wrong? I'm not going that far.
Mar del Plata is very close.
I'll be back Sunday.
Joaco, love, what's the matter?
Come with me, darling.
Do you want to go too?
And leave me all alone?
We could be back at any minute!
This car isn't going to get very far!
Hello.
It's me.
Listen, Roma, I'm calling because Joaquín took ill.
What happened?
How is he? Is he with you?
He's in hospital, come as soon as you can.
'Ateo, tell me what happened.
How is he?
It looks like a brain hemorrhage. Come quickly.
He's in a coma.
Is he dead?
Is Joaquín dead?
No, no, but come now.
"We're back where we started,
facing an illusion.
These trees, touch them, they're solid.
How can we know that they're real
and the rest wasn't some kind of nightmare?
Do you remember that before I hit you,
you grabbed a cape belonging to the Pasturians?"
The Pasturians?
Joaco.
You have to say goodbye to your father.
You're the man of the house now.
That's quite good.
When is the conservatory exam?
This Thursday.
There's time. Don't worry, you'll do fine.
Play it again, a little more slowly.
I'll be right back.
They gave me this.
I tried to get more but I couldn't.
- I didn't sell it for the money. - I know that.
How will you get by?
With the sale of the car and Joaquín's insurance,
we'll manage for a while.
After that, I don't know.
My salary isn't much, but I can let you have something.
Tell me if you need anything.
Thank you, but I have to go over my accounts
and cut back on expenses.
Joaco could go to a state school.
He's going to finish his studies at the English School.
I'll sacrifice anything but that.
His father wanted him to learn another language.
He said it was a weapon to defend himself in life.
I think that too.
I can cut out the bus
and the lunch at school. That will be a big saving.
But nothing else.
What about Joaquín's brothers? They're well off.
They could help you out.
Yes, if I do what they say.
I wouldn't dream of asking them for anything.
The last time Juan came, he offered to pay the school fees.
And you didn't accept?
At a priests' school.
I'd have had to baptize Joaco, baptize myself,
and maybe even you too.
That would be funny,
baptizing someone whose name means "atheist".
Apart from being Holy Joes, my brothers-in-law are nasty.
And as for my sisters-in-law...
Don't worry, we'll get by all right.
If I were on my own, I'd just sit in a corner.
But for Joaco's sake I have to keep going.
We have to talk man to man.
Things aren't going well, Joaco.
If we've got problems, Dad will help us from heaven.
Who told you that?
Aunt Aida.
She told me that dad will always protect us.
No, Joaco, dad isn't anywhere.
He isn't up in any heaven.
We can't ask him for anything.
He can't help us because he isn't there.
He died, and when someone dies it's all over.
Death is the end, like in the movies.
What we have left is love.
That's what he left us.
What we've got in here.
A lot of love, and we'll never lose that.
We have his memory, the memory of his tenderness,
of how he was, the fact that his friends loved him so much.
All that.
Nothing else, sweetie.
We have to carry on living on our own.
And we're going to do it, you and I.
We won't be afraid.
If you're sad,
I'll show you how not to be sad.
Do you know how?
Yes, I know. At a river.
Dad showed me.
You go to a river bank and throw in all your troubles.
That's it.
Into the river.
Are you all right?
How the hell do you think that I can be all right?
I didn't say that. I just asked.
I feel like shit, what do you expect?
But it's all my fault.
I knew perfectly well
that this was going to screw me up.
You have to leave the past where it is,
you can't mess around with it, bring it back, relive it.
I'm an idiot.
This is very good.
It's worthwhile.
I really want to know how it continues.
How it continues? You bastard.
I don't know if it continues.
I don't know if I can continue.
Think of the money.
Did uncle 'Ateo ever get married?
No, he stayed a bachelor.
You want some whisky?
He did fall in love and he was about to get married,
but one day he found Rosita,
his fiancée, with another man.
Or he found out she was cheating on him, we never really knew.
'Ateo never wanted to talk about it, not even to my mother.
Rosita ruined his life.
"'Ateo" is an odd name. Does it mean anything in Italian?
The same as in Spanish.
"'Ateo" means atheist,
just that.
They pronounced it differently to avoid giving explanations.
My grandfather was a free-thinker,
an old-style anarchist.
He named my uncle 'Ateo Bruno Argentino.
Bruno for Giordano Bruno,
a follower of Copernicus burned by the Inquisition.
My mother was going to be Roma Italiana.
I don't know why, but she ended up just being Roma.
"Not the papal Rome or the baptismal Rome,
but the Italian, anticlerical Rome,
the Rome of the future".
That's what old Di Toro said.
Isn't that going in?
Perhaps.
Perhaps, I don't know yet.
Write it in the margin or in a different typeface.
And if you agree,
we'll establish a routine.
Anything I tell you but don't write down,
take a note and I'll see afterwards.
Will you remember everything I say?
After all, you're nearly a journalist.
Yes, but I don't know if I'm ready to write on my own.
You'll find that out by writing.
A writer writes. That's all there is to it.
Now I'd like to ask you a favor.
- That I be less formal. - That too.
No.
I was going to ask you to stay.
We'll order some food and carry on.
I want
to finish off my childhood.
If I don't do it today I'll never do it.
No problem.
Thank you.
It doesn't seem like it, but really you're a nice guy.
Be careful, the chocolate is very hot.
You should have a cake.
Do we pay for them all or just what we eat?
Eat all you want, this is on me.
Did you get your grades?
Tomorrow.
He's first in his class.
Some months, second or third, but never any lower.
Congratulations!
Do you know what you want to be?
Not yet.
But when I finish high school, I can choose any faculty.
You could study Commerce, become a qualified accountant
and then do Business Studies. It's a career with a future.
Take your time, you needn't decide now.
What do you think of Dr. Cassano? Do you like him?
He's a good man.
He's pleasant, and very good company.
He says he fell in love with your mom the day we met.
- Are you going to marry him? - No.
I'm not in love with him.
He's married, with children.
But he treats me well, I don't feel so alone.
And he's got a good position. He can help us if necessary.
Listen to me, sweetie.
I want you to know something.
No one will ever take your dad's place.
There'll never be another man.
I'll never love anyone the way I loved him.
I can't forget him. When I'm at home,
I still expect to see him.
I know he isn't there, but even so I look for him.
They say time erases everything but it isn't true.
I still love him as much as the first day.
I'll remember him until the day I die.
Shall we wait a while longer or start walking?
Let's go.
Ladies walk on the inside.
Demedio, Oracio.
Góñez, Joaquín.
Andrada, Carlos.
Murgaz, Pedro.
Here.
- Is this the next part? - Yes.
We're missing your adolescence.
You might be, I had it. I'm not going to include it.
It would be a list of stupidities
very similar to those of any other adolescent.
For me, it's a gap.
For me, it was shit. You can add that if you want.
Do I put that?
Your gift for synthesis is admirable.
I did the opposite of what was expected of me,
one fuck-up after another.
I started high school, then I got a job in an office
and I started night school.
After four years, I chucked everything in.
I decided that office hours weren't my thing.
I did everything,
I sold soap from door to door, books, fake insurance,
false policies, ice cream.
I earned just enough for my expenses.
Second hand books, records...
My mother coped with the bad times on her own.
What I did was just an excuse so people wouldn't say I was lazy.
She never said a word.
I knew I was hurting her.
She'd done everything to give me a future, and I'd blown it all.
But I couldn't help it.
I wrote a few stories
and I announced that I'd be a writer.
I'd publish a novel very soon and be famous.
It wasn't soon.
Roma always had faith in me.
She believed me, she encouraged me.
She never knew that she was right.
I was late.
I'm always late for everything.
You want a synthesis?
My father lived for me, my mother lived for me, and I lived for me.
I was a bohemian, as my father had wanted.
But I was also a bastard,
drunk, selfish, thoughtless,
irresponsible.
I was the worst, Cueto,
the worst.
I'm the same.
Worse, because I still can't prove myself.
I know that my father's dream was that I'd stay in Laredo,
that I'd work with him and then take over the business.
I've let him down.
He tells me so every time he sees me.
Forget that and live your life.
Don't feel guilty, that's terrible.
Just tell your father to get screwed.
I'm trying.
Have you got enough adolescence?
More than enough. Let's continue with the 60s.
They weren't any better.
In the mid-60s, when I was about your age,
but much better looking than you,
what was happening in Buenos Aires was amazing, almost magical.
There are dozens of books about it,
but you need to have been there to understand it.
It's a unique, personal sensation that you can't transmit.
We thought we could change the world.
I really lived the night life, I finally knew what bohemia was.
Corrientes Street was the university of life.
The classrooms were cinemas, bars, bookshops that never closed.
We talked, we read, we argued, we screwed.
There were no limits for us.
It was a time when democratic governments fell
and the military appeared.
One worse than the other.
It was a time of rupture, of total freedom,
of the destruction of morality and good manners.
And also of repression.
We thought each new military coup was the worst that could happen.
We didn't know what would happen after '76.
BUENOS AIRES, LATE 60'S
ENGLISH CLASSES TRANSLATIONS
Good, that's enough. Read...
this paragraph here.
- I'll take this one. - What about "lmaginary Lives"?
It's Schwab's masterpiece. Borges talks wonders about it.
Do you have it, Smirnoff?
I don't know, look for it. Why the hell are you asking me?
You're the owner.
You're new, so I'll explain this.
I've never read a book.
I can listen to music here all day with no one bugging me,
except for guys like you.
Alicia will show you where it is. It's a first edition, a treasure.
Coltrane.
And who else?
Red Garland on piano.
Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones.
It's Art Taylor, not Jones.
Art Taylor.
There was still swing then.
Now it's all shit, except for McCoy Tyner.
He seems stupid, but he knows.
He knows a lot. I like him, he's intelligent.
He didn't say anything.
He understands jazz. You need a brain for that.
Those who don't understand are mental retards or women.
I like him.
- Coltrane or that kid? - Both of them.
It's very cheap.
I bought some others. I'll come by tomorrow.
It may not be here.
It's unique, a treasure.
Come on, a gift from Guido and me.
I doubt if they'll give me a loan at the workshop.
I think it'll be closing soon. What is that?
It must be outside.
I can't cut back any more on expenses.
Even if we lived without gas or electricity, it wouldn't help.
I have to pay the overdue interest to the bank,
but I don't know how.
Is Joaco working?
The usual stuff, translations, private classes.
I know that, I meant something serious
that pays well so he can help you.
He does help.
Look, Roma.
I don't want to interfere but you're too soft on him.
It's one thing doing what you like, and another being lazy.
If you want, I'll speak to him.
I can speak to him.
Not everyone is born to work in an office or a repair shop.
Like it or not, that's how it is.
Joaco is searching, he's searching for himself.
He writes well.
I think he writes well.
He reads a lot.
He's good, he's got a kind heart, I know him better than you.
He tells me everything, I'm not going to clip his wings.
But be realistic. He'll starve to death as a writer.
At least persuade him to study, to get a career.
If he studied, he'd choose Arts and we'd be back where we started.
And even if he got a serious job
there's still the mortgage.
He's got too much freedom.
He could end badly.
He won't, believe me. You should worry about yourself.
What will become of you if you get laid off?
- Hello, Roma, how are you? - Hello, Betty.
'Ateo, my brother.
What a lovely name! Hello, 'Ateo.
She's my girlfriend.
- We're going to eat something. - There's fruit and cheese.
I'm not your girlfriend. Why did you say I was?
- What did you want me to say? - I'm nobody's "anything".
All right, I know that.
Don't get so upset. Would you like an apple?
They're young, they're in love. It's life, 'Ateo.
You let him go to bed with her here, in front of you?
Not in front of me, in his room with the door closed.
This is his house too, he has a right to use it.
It doesn't bother me. It's nothing new.
He's always done it,
ever since he started to... Since he became a man.
- Love isn't dirty. - But this is something else.
Sex.
Sex isn't dirty either.
Joaco,
come on, wake up.
Come on.
- It's 2:00 p.m. - All right.
Have a shower and come down for lunch.
By the way,
does Betty have to shout like that?
You can hear her in the street.
What can I do, mom?
- She has multiple orgasms. - What do you mean, multiple?
It's not just one.
It's several, one after another.
I see...
The things I've missed out on.
Why did you say Betty was your girlfriend?
Is it true?
No, I said it for uncle.
- Does Betty know that? - Yes.
She didn't like it at all. She's very liberal.
- A bit of a whore. - Because she sleeps with you?
With me and with anyone.
So do you. She's got the same rights. You shouldn't insult her.
It wasn't an insult.
Think before you speak.
I'm just asking you to be honest.
Don't let her or anyone else think that you feel
something you don't.
I know that "girlfriend" means nothing,
but even a very liberal girl
can think there's love and a future together.
You needn't worry, with Betty it's all very clear.
That's good.
Stop reading, I want to talk to you.
More advice?
I tell you what I think, you do what you want.
I was joking, mom, don't get annoyed.
It's something else.
I think we have to sell the house.
- Why? - It's too big.
We could live in an apartment,
something near the center, not so far away.
What do you think?
That's fine.
If you don't mind.
We'll get rid of the mortgage.
If we don't have to pay that, things will be a bit easier.
If we find something cheap, we may have some money left.
That's reassuring.
All right.
As you wish.
We cannot let this outrage happen, ladies and gentlemen.
We cannot let them destroy the Public University.
We cannot allow...
We cannot allow them to continue arresting
fellow students and professors
just because they dare to say what they think.
Homeland, yes! Glory, no!
Comrades, we are on strike for the country,
for the oppressed people, for free elections.
We are on strike to end the military dictatorship,
so that the power of arms
may never again crush the will of the people!
Watch out, watch out, we're going to see
the liberation of Latin America.
Watch out, watch out, we're going to see
the liberation of Latin America.
Are you all right?
Did you hurt yourself?
No, I just got scared.
Those bastards.
Thanks for your help.
No, you were my shield.
You protected me.
Are you in Philosophy or Arts?
Neither.
I'm a friend of Guido Rossi, the speaker.
Yes, I know Guido.
I'm Renée.
Joaquín, but call me Joaco.
Renée with two e's, otherwise I'd be a boy.
Impossible, you're too pretty.
Where are you going?
Home, I live ten blocks away.
I'll walk you there.
No, it isn't necessary.
Part of the way.
Don't bother trying to chat me up.
Pavese, Hemingway, Faulkner,
Dos Passos, Jack London,
Cortázar, Borges,
Dylan Thomas.
I translated some of his poems, I'll let you see them.
Conrad, Kipling, Stevenson.
Conrad is a genius at structure.
Hammett, Chandler. No French writers?
Balzac, Mac Orlan, Cendrars, Apollinaire.
Apollinaire, yes.
As for Cendrars, all I could get was
a Chilean edition of"Les aventures de Dan Yack".
There isn't much translated.
- Baroja? - No. What's he like?
The greatest. Hemingway said so.
Dry, precise, no convolutions. He's marvelous.
I'll lend you "Pilotos de altura"
and "La estrella del Capitán Chimista".
They'll give you a good start.
Where did you come from, Renée?
Where were you?
Why have I never met you? You're incredible.
Don't be an idiot.
Don't worry about not having studied, you don't need it.
No one can teach you to write.
If you're a writer, you'll write.
Keep writing and forget the rest.
Can I read your stories some day?
I don't like them.
Why are you studying if it's of no use?
I can't write.
At most, I'll be a teacher.
This is it.
Ciao, Joaco.
I'll call you.
- A coffee and a croissant. - Thanks.
You could have joined us.
I'm not a student.
- What happened? - The cops closed the faculty.
We're still going on strike, but outside.
Where did you go?
I cleared off.
Afterwards,
I had to walk a girl back home.
How odd, you and a girl.
It's incredible.
- She's the girl of my dreams. - Another? She must be the tenth.
She's different.
I can't believe it.
- Did you screw her? - No.
No? Now that's unusual.
This could be serious. What's her name?
Renée.
With two e's.
She knows you.
Yes, she's very pretty, a bit strait-laced.
But she's dating Recalde.
- Who's Recalde? - The semiotics professor.
Middle aged, good looking.
No, they broke up.
What do you do that drives women crazy?
- Check him out. - Will you let me?
It isn't up to me.
Women don't have owners.
You're so silly... You're jealous.
I don't do anything, it would be no use. It's the women who choose.
Where's your wife?
She's at home.
She may come along later.
We're kind of...
- Did you have a row? - No, it's worse than that.
Things are bad.
You were messing around.
No, it isn't that either.
We've been together three years. We love each other, we get on well.
We've even talked of having a baby.
But suddenly something happened.
Or nothing happened, nothing specific.
Silence appeared.
Something went wrong.
- Did you talk to her? - Yes.
But it's like I say.
She doesn't know what's wrong.
She loves me,
but she feels strange, she's bored.
She feels trapped. We're separating for a while.
Maybe that way...
I don't know.
- That might help. - It won't fucking help.
I don't want to separate. I can't.
I love her more than anything.
I can't even imagine that I'm not going to see her,
that she won't be with me.
Forget about politics for a while and pay her more attention.
And then what?
Do I sit in a corner and watch life go by, like you?
- I do that? - Yes.
You sit in your little corner and never come out.
- Are you taking it out on me? - Who else can I take it out on?
Don't listen to me.
I'd give up everything to be with her.
But she doesn't want to be with me.
She wants to be alone, do you understand?
I'll leave you two alone.
Please, drop that idiotic expression.
And never get married.
Never fall in love.
Hello.
- Ciao. - Ciao, Guido.
Did you ask him to leave?
No, why?
He's got problems.
- What'll you have? - What are you having?
- A Legui. - Same here.
Waiter!
You know it?
Only through Borges, I haven't read it.
It's from 1944.
It's the only translation.
Where did you find it?
- It's for you. - No, I'll read it and return it.
I prefer to give it to you.
The best way to lose friends is by lending books.
I don't want to lose you.
I'm a good girl, I don't keep what I'm lent.
Thank you, Joaco.
You'll like it.
Yes, I loved it.
The highest level of man's intelligence
is the ability to be moved by something abstract,
music.
And the best music is jazz.
This guy reveals himself, he talks, he tells a story.
Parker said, "You play what you are". He was a genius.
But the great thing about them
is that as well as managing to show their feelings,
they move you with the perfection of their phrasing,
their technique, that unique sound.
- When did he die? - In 1955.
He was 35 years old.
The doctor thought he was 65, he was a wreck.
- Alcohol, heroin, Benzedrine. - Listen to that.
Someone who can do that
has got no other option but to destroy himself.
He knew he was a genius.
He knew what he had done and that it was unsurpassable,
unrepeatable, unique.
He could never match it again.
It was inevitable that he would die young.
It was necessary, unavoidable, that he would die.
The tragedy is that after"that", after that solo,
the rest of his life was meaningless.
He couldn't invent a goal for himself.
He had already surpassed one that was practically impossible.
The public manifestation of excellence and genius.
- Do you like jazz, Renée? - I don't understand it.
I prefer Brahms.
Brahms, Bach, Schumann, Bartok.
Brahms.
And Vivaldi?
Yes.
He says if you can't appreciate this, you're a mental retard.
- This girl is different. - Because she's pretty?
This is nothing, Renée, if you knew the rubbish they talk.
Guido, help me find some books on psychology.
- Simon can do it, we're leaving. - Not me, Figueroa.
Come on, tubby, come with me.
Is he really called Smirnoff or is it for the vodka?
It's his name.
But we're not sure why he drinks the vodka.
Are you OK?
You look annoyed.
Not at all, what about you?
I'm fine.
Wherever I am, if you're there,
I'm fine.
I feel the same.
Come and sit down.
Joaco, I feel great with you.
I feel comfortable, I tell you things I don't tell anyone.
Me too.
You're a nice guy.
I've never had a friend like you.
We could be great friends, we are great friends.
I don't want to lose you.
You won't lose me.
I don't know.
I feel bad.
I'm very confused.
I was dating a guy for a year.
Then I broke it off.
I loved him very much but he was married.
And a lot older than I am.
It was very complicated.
He kept saying he'd leave his wife but he never did.
There was the question of age,
All I wanted was to be with him.
Age is what matters least.
You marry someone your own age and it lasts six months.
Exactly.
You build the future day by day.
If we stay together, great, if we don't, too bad.
Carlos called me last week, I saw him again.
Well, he teaches at the university so I still saw him occasionally,
but he called me.
He said it's going to be different,
he needs some time,
he wants to marry me,
he can't live without me.
And you?
You're the one who matters.
I don't know.
I really don't know. I feel lost.
I can't stop loving him just like that.
You can't say"It's over", and that's it,
wiped out.
There are so many things.
I need time.
Sure.
Call me.
If you need anything, call me.
Didn't you go out?
This is a miracle.
I went to the movies.
I saw "Charade" with Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn.
It was lovely, very funny.
And I saw "Written on the Wind" again, with Rock Hudson,
to have a bit of a cry.
What's wrong?
I want to leave.
I'm not doing anything here.
Translations, that's all.
I can do them anywhere. At least I'll be traveling.
I'll die without seeing anything.
I've never been further than Montevideo.
Neither have I.
You're not going to die just yet.
You're at a good age for traveling,
but that takes time and money.
You've got time.
The money is more difficult.
Stop playing and tell me what's wrong.
I was with Renée.
It's all gone to hell.
Did you have a row?
No.
She says she loves me.
She wants us to be friends.
Just friends.
She's seeing a married man.
She isn't happy, but she really loves him.
She sees me as a friend.
Did you tell her you loved her?
I couldn't.
When she told me that,
what could I say?
I don't know what to do, mom.
I feel like shit.
Right now, go to bed and try to sleep.
Gin won't solve anything.
We'll talk tomorrow.
"Sleep, you'll feel better tomorrow.".
I didn't say that, but you're half drunk.
The best thing you can do is go to bed.
That won't solve anything either.
Nothing solves anything.
Things are as they are.
I can't tell you that you'll get over it
because I don't know if you will.
I can't tell you what to do because I don't know.
You can't tell anyone how to live his life.
But you should know there'll be a lot of pain.
A lot of pain
for a long time.
If you keep seeing her,
if you continue to be friends,
don't be her confidant.
Don't listen to her problems with another guy, it'll destroy you.
While we're at it, I'll tell you this,
even though you won't listen right now.
You have to keep going.
Everything that happens to us is much less important
than we'd like to believe.
There isn't just one life.
Well, there is just one,
but inside that life
you live many lives and they're all different.
Some are better,
some are worse.
None of them has much meaning.
You have to keep going, sweetie.
Why are we seeing a western? Is there nothing else?
It isn't a western.
It's by John Ford, but it's about the workers.
I've seen it, you'll like it.
It's better than Antonioni
and his girls whose hair hurts them.
Existential anxiety. You wouldn't understand that.
- Does your hair ever hurt you? - Only at the hairdresser's.
John Ford made 56 films of which only 17 are westerns,
including his three silent films
The other 39 are about love, war,
Ireland, history, comedies...
And he made 8 documentaries that I've never seen.
But he was getting pissed off with journalists,
so he said, "My name is John Ford and I make westerns".
The idiots believed him.
He said it when he stood up to address...
May I come in?
What are you doing here?
Come in, come in.
I can't offer you a seat.
It's a nice apartment.
It's nice for your mother and you.
Does Roma like it?
Yes, it's near the center and she can walk to the cinema.
We couldn't afford anything better.
It's nice, I like it. Sitting room, bedroom...
That's for mom.
I'll sleep here.
- When do you move? - In a week's time.
- Where's Guido? - At the university, I guess.
I came on my own.
Carry on working, I'll watch.
I'll give you some sandpaper and you can help.
No, I'll take a break.
We'll go have a coffee.
I'm scared, Joaco.
I've never felt like this with anyone else.
Not even with Guido?
Are you going to tell him?
I don't know. I don't have to tell him.
We're not together anymore.
You're living together.
I told him I was moving out to live with my sister.
He doesn't believe me, but I'm leaving.
Are you sure about it?
I am now, I want to move out.
I want to be with you all day and all night.
Why did we wait so long?
I love you, Joaco.
I love you very much.
That's everything.
I'll tell mom.
Mom.
Mom!
Finish up and I'll give you your work for Thursday.
Want to go to the cinema?
Sure, I'll get tidied up and we'll go.
- What are they showing? - You choose.
I'll pay, but I'm staying here.
Alicia is coming.
Guido's wife?
No, they're separated.
You don't miss one.
Well, I'll phone you when the film's over, to warn you.
Thanks, mom.
Guido is your friend.
Did you tell him about this?
No.
Maybe Alicia told him.
- Do you really like that girl? - I like her, that's all.
- And her? - I guess she likes me too.
- Did she leave him for you? - No!
No, not at all. Things were bad anyway.
I don't like what you're doing.
Not a bit.
Why are you with me?
The same reason you're with me.
I don't think so. I'm being serious.
Because
you're beautiful,
sweet, pleasant,
and we have a good time together.
We're not together, we just screw together.
Passion doesn't leave us time for anything else.
I want to live with you.
At your sister's?
No.
Any place.
A place that is ours.
You want us to get married?
No, to live together, like people do when they're in love.
We're fine like this. Don't complicate it.
It isn't complicated. You can just say no.
I'm just saying not now.
We'll wait a while and see what happens.
I know what's happening to me.
You came into my life and now you're everything.
Tell me the truth, tell me you don't love me.
Say you were hot for me,
and all you want is someone to screw from time to time.
Hold it, hold it.
As I see it...
In any case, as I remember, you were hot for me.
Come on, don't be like that.
Listen to me.
I don't want to mess you up.
You're very pretty,
I like you very much, I love you,
but living together is a different story.
It isn't you.
I don't want to be tied to anyone.
I want to be alone.
Is that so hard to understand?
No, not at all.
I understood everything.
- Any word of the guys? - What guys?
Simon will be here soon, Figueroa comes every day.
Quit messing, Betty.
Alicia hasn't been around for about a month.
Neither has Guido.
Have you seen Renée, Smirnoff?
I'm the only one still here.
What's bugging you?
Tragedy has installed itself among us.
Come and look for a novel with me and forget your troubles.
This is a treasure, Doña Roma.
200 pianos are produced with a very good sound,
but one of them, who knows why, has a magical sound.
As if it had a soul.
This is one of those pianos.
My parents brought it from Italy,
at the turn of the century. It must be really old.
It's a Grand Prix, Paris, 1900.
If you ever want to sell it,
I could get you a very good price for it.
You can't sell things like this.
Excuse me.
If it's Alicia, I'm not in.
Hello?
Guido, how are you?
Yes.
Don't say that.
I can't believe it.
Yes, I know where it is.
I'll tell him.
Thank you, ciao.
Alicia tried to kill herself.
She took a load of pills, they had to pump her stomach.
She's come out of the coma.
Guido.
How is she?
A bit queasy, but she's all right.
I got home late, she seemed a bit strange.
I couldn't wake her.
If I'd gone to sleep, ciao.
- Can I see her? - Not now, the family is with her.
If she sees you, it'll be worse.
When she was coming round she kept calling your name.
Don't say anything.
You and I know why she did it.
But don't feel guilty.
It could have been anyone.
I didn't want to hurt her.
I didn't want to hurt you.
I thought you two had split up.
And we had.
But these things come and go.
It's a mess, I don't understand it.
She came back, it was going well, and then this happened.
It's all over.
What are you going to do?
I'll stay with her until she's better.
Then, I don't know.
When I see that she can be on her own,
I'll decide.
I think it's best if we separate.
What are you going to do?
About what?
About Alicia.
I haven't spoken to you.
I don't know if you love her, if you want to live with her.
No, Guido.
I want to be alone.
Tell me the truth, idiot.
It's all right.
If you want to be with her, I'll back off.
I won't say anything.
Joaco, you don't know how much I love Alicia.
You don't know.
I don't want to lose her,
but I don't know what to do.
I don't have the means, I don't have the strength.
All I want is for her to be all right,
for her to be happy.
Even if it's not with me, if she can be happy with you,
or with someone else.
I don't mind, you understand?
Bravo!
The pianist Roma Di Toro has just played
Nocturne in E-Flat, Opus 9, Nº 2, by Frédéric Chopin.
Thank you.
Did you ever think of performing,
of being a concert pianist?
That's a son talking.
I know my limitations.
It's great virtue that I hope you've inherited.
You'll know when you decide to do something.
You don't know yet.
Don't start.
Today.
Today and never again.
Do you still want to travel?
If you could choose, where would you go?
I don't know. Europe.
Spain, for example?
It's the same language, you could do translation work.
You could be an interpreter,
or a hotel porter,
anything, so as not to starve
while you decide what you want to do with your life.
Yes, I could go to Spain, nowhere is far away.
I want you to know I never lost confidence in you.
Not because I'm your mother,
but because I know you.
I know you're very capable and you'll get on.
You made a lot of mistakes, like everyone.
Don't be afraid of failing, and start living.
Don't do things for my sake,
or feel bad if you don't do what I'm supposed to expect of you.
I want you to be happy,
to do what you really like,
to be able to fend for yourself.
Don't let the world destroy you.
I'm your mother, Joaco.
You don't owe me anything.
Everything I did for you, I did for me, because you're part of me.
You don't even owe me your life.
I owe you mine, sweetie,
because I live for you.
What's wrong, mom?
Why are you saying all this?
Uncle 'Ateo has lent me some money he had saved.
I had a little, too.
In one envelope
you've got enough money for two months, if you're careful.
In the other, a ticket to Spain.
The ship leaves this Thursday.
Don't say anything now, think it over calmly.
It can be returned.
The secret with the river was to speak out loud.
Everything that seems like a huge problem to us
sounds ridiculous and absurd when said out loud.
I could never do it.
I took a ship to Barcelona.
I went from there to Madrid and here I am. I survived.
I gradually found my profession.
I wrote to my mother,
to Renée.
I continued to be her friend, despite the risk.
I thought I'd never see her again.
I'd left Buenos Aires forever.
But things never turn out for me as I expect.
Soon after, uncle 'Ateo went to live with her,
with my mother.
I was relieved she wasn't on her own.
And this is what's worth telling about 1972.
After this, an epilogue and we're finished.
Another gap. A black hole of over thirty years.
What shit do you want me to write?
Alcohol, drugs, two broken marriages,
two daughters I barely know?
The discovery of solitude as the best possible way of life?
Can't you see this isn't my fucking autobiography?
What is it, then?
I've got no idea. Shut up and write.
Yes?
Yes, sir.
Very well.
Yes, sir, it's ready.
Don Matías is expecting you.
You've got a good style.
Too good for what you're given to translate.
I can't help it. I try to do my work well.
That's vanity. If you don't change, you're screwed.
You take a long time and earn very little.
This arrived with your translations,
but it isn't a translation.
It seems like a novel, written by Joaquín Góñez.
It must have got mixed up with them. I apologize.
It isn't bad. You have an editor, I guess.
I'm looking for one.
You've got one month to write this in the Spanish that's spoken here.
It's set in Madrid, for God's sake!
I don't want it in Argentinian Spanish,
much less in Buenos Aires slang.
- One month. - To avoid any more mix-ups,
and to avoid this turning up at another publisher's,
my secretary has got a contract for you to sign.
And a small advance too.
Congratulations.
- Excuse me! - Yes?
Someone rang from Buenos Aires, they didn't leave a name.
- They'll call back. - Thank you.
Yes?
Yes, yes, just a minute.
It's them again.
Thank you.
Yes?
Uncle 'Ateo!
How are you? How are things?
What happened?
Yes.
Yes. Hello?
Yes, yes.
I'll find something.
I'll call you when I know.
Uncle, call Renée, tell her to come round.
Don't stay on your own.
Lots of love, ciao.
My mother died.
I'm very sorry.
Was she very old?
Fifty four.
That's awful.
Was she ill, had she not been well?
Just a touch of high blood pressure.
She got up for breakfast and said she felt sleepy.
She lay down for a while and never got up again.
A heart attack.
Poor woman.
But it's better like that.
She didn't suffer.
In transit to Buenos Aires.
Passengers in transit to Buenos Aires.
Passengers in transit to Buenos Aires, please go to gate 9.
Thank you.
Renée?
Joaco.
Yes, everything's fine.
In Montevideo.
Ten, fifteen minutes.
Listen,
you must do me a favor.
I'm not going.
I can't.
I don't want to see her.
I know, but I can't do it.
Take care of everything.
Tell uncle 'Ateo
that I missed the plane,
that I got held up or something.
I'm going to Colonia.
I'll take the ferry.
I'll be there tonight.
Yes, for sure.
But,
I can't do it now.
All right.
Thanks.
Ciao.
Remember this?
There are lots of Roma's mementoes here.
She loved to keep the silliest things.
Take whatever you want, it's all yours.
How are you?
Can you manage all right?
I can help you out now.
I sold a novel.
Roma would have been so happy.
It's so unfair.
I was given early retirement.
My eyesight, I can't see a damn.
I'm fine, thanks anyway.
If you sell the apartment, just give me time to move out.
It's yours, uncle.
Did Renée come by often?
She was your mother's best friend.
She knows all that you've been doing.
So don't lie to her.
Roma was always talking about you.
She's a nice girl.
And a Peronist.
Where's the piano?
Was it sold?
The piano?
Didn't Roma tell you?
It went to Spain with you. She sold it to buy your ticket.
Uncle, come on, it's me.
I missed you so much!
Me too.
Not as much as you, your mother kept me informed.
'Ateo told me.
Where is he?
At the cinema.
- Why? He's blind as a bat. - To leave us on our own.
He must think you and I...
Anyway, he went out.
Did you tell Guido? Is he coming?
Not here.
We'll meet in a bar.
Don't tell anyone about it.
Not even your uncle.
Why all the mystery?
Guido is an activist.
A "Montonero" leader.
He's lying low. If they catch him, he's finished.
Are you with him?
In the JP.
I wasn't mixed up in politics before, but it's different now.
You can't just sit back and do nothing.
You have to act, get involved,
because a change is possible.
Seen from the outside,
it's like a shambles.
It is a shambles.
A real mess.
But we'll clean it up.
We can't let the military fuck us up anymore.
We have to go.
I can't believe it.
The Renée I knew
was shy, intellectual, and barely spoke.
You've changed a lot.
But you're still beautiful.
The most beautiful.
Be careful, please.
Nothing must happen to you.
Stop, please.
This is wrong.
You're not here.
But I can be.
I can come back for you.
I'm not alone.
I'm with someone.
Recalde?
Someone I met.
He's your age.
It's been a long time, Joaco.
I loved you so much.
But you went away,
you left me all alone.
I don't understand.
You never told me...
Outside my house,
when I told you that I felt bad,
that I was confused, do you remember?
I put my arms around you.
I wanted you to kiss me,
to make love to me,
to get me out of the shit that I was in.
But you did nothing.
I needed to know that you loved me,
but you said nothing.
No one ever made me feel so alone.
Did I have to tell you?
Didn't you know?
Do you know now?
I don't want to know now.
He's back there.
I'll leave you two alone.
When will I see you again?
I don't know.
Don't call me, please.
- I'm very sorry about your mother. - Thanks.
How about a game, pal? A quick one.
How long are you staying?
About ten days.
So we'll have time to see each other again.
I have to leave soon.
Don't say you were with me.
It's not a good idea to be a friend of Big Guido.
Renée told me.
It's like a spy movie.
Don't joke about it.
People turn up dead.
Comrades disappear.
And this isn't a toy.
They want to screw us.
But it's a good sign.
It means we might win.
The socialist homeland.
Listen, idiot, don't you read the papers in Spain?
There's Cuba, Allende in Chile, Perón is coming back.
You think he's a socialist?
You think he'll lead the revolution?
I read the papers and I think Perón is still a fascist.
He's using the left to get into power,
and when he does he'll fuck the lot of you!
Maybe.
Or maybe not.
You have to take that risk.
You know what?
You have to be here to understand it.
You can't judge from outside.
I have to go.
Tell me about you. Are you married, single?
Single, thank you.
- Are you with Alicia? - It took you a while,
but you finally asked.
No, I'm with another woman.
I've got a son.
I'm doing fine.
Alicia remarried too.
She's got two kids.
And I bet she's even fatter than I am.
I haven't seen her in ages.
I don't miss her.
I'm glad.
What do we do?
- Shall I call you? - I'll call you.
Or you can tell Renée, that girl's made of steel.
Or tell the barman here.
Tell him to contact Guido.
Nothing in writing.
Ciao, brother.
Your papers.
He's got a gun.
Tell me who you are. You're a friend of Big Guido.
I don't know any Guido.
- Yes, you do, where is he? - I live in Spain.
Move.
You're alive because you're dumb.
You're a wimp!
You're not involved in anything, wimp!
You're a tourist. Go back to Spain, we don't want you here.
Read this, kid.
GUIDO ROSSI KILLED IN A SHOOT OUT
Here.
Finish this and give it to the publisher.
The house is up for sale.
You can stay until someone buys it.
What about you?
I'm going away, I won't be back.
I always dreamed of ending my days in an hotel.
A good hotel, of course.
My train leaves in a few hours.
I've got enough to spend three years doing nothing.
Going to Buenos Aires?
You should never go back to where you've been happy.
And you should also stay away from exotic countries.
I'll go to some decadent, friendly European city
where poverty isn't a tourist attraction.
What shall we do about the title? Shall we keep "The River of Life"?
Doesn't it sound a bit pompous?
- It sounds like Kipling. - You bastard.
Change it.
Just call it
"Roma".
If anyone buys it, they'll see it isn't a tourist guide.
I'm leaving you Dumas. He deserves to be read
and I doubt I'll have time.
I'm sorry we've finished.
I'll miss you, sir.
It was a short marriage but they're the best.
I'll send you postcards, but don't call me sir.
It makes me feel old.
It isn't for your age, it's out of respect.
On a page after the title, write this,
"With the help of Manuel Cueto, who made this book possible".
In small type, so that it's barely seen.
Let's not go overboard.
When it's published send a copy to your father.
And keep writing, you do it quite well.
Somebody will always do it worse than you.
Most people are idiots but you're not.
I've got nothing to throw into the river.
Now that I can talk,
I've got nothing.
Sadness,
but that's part of me now.
I've got nothing else.
To live so long
and have so little.
All I've got left is your memory, mom.
You were so sure
I'd do something worthwhile.
You protected me and taught me so much.
You loved me so much!
There's nothing else in my life
that's worth remembering.