The first time I went to Budapest...
due to a forced landing...
flying from Stambul to frankfurt with plane changing in Rio...
I thought it was gray...
but no.
Budapest... is yellow.
2420456 Vanda and Jos Costa's residence.
We're not home at the moment. Please leave a message after the tone.
"Where did a word start and finish?
It was impossible to separate one word from the next.
It would be like trying to cut a river with a knife. "
Now opens my company's new show...
a selection of different sides of flamenco.
A great emotion opening in Paris.
I've been dancing through all Europe for years.
Through Spain, USA...
The flamenco is my passion, my life.
Tumult in congress.
Congressman Marconi reveals a millionaire scam and asks for pardon.
An accident in Copacabana involving two buses leaves 11 injured.
Rio, forty degrees:
crowded beaches at the weekend. Vanda Costa, today, on Rio News!
A tense Congressman Marconi addressed Congress...
to tell them he was stepping down,
and said he was done with listening to accusations.
Hi Costa.
The congressman's speech is all over the news!
Call me, you secret genius!
The congressman said that offensive words...
were not mere noises that broke up in the air...
...and that many a great war began with words!
Cunha and Costa Agency
You've written the most beautiful love and suicide letters I've ever read!
You're a poet, man! A true poet!
I don't care for poetry...
Someone would like to pay you homage...
what's this?
They dream of being ghostwriters. writing quietly and meticulously...
Are they prepared to disappear? To live forever in the shadows.
Sometimes I think it was you who invented this profession.
Alvaro, my hand will always be my hand.
I'm ovulating.
I wish I had it all worked out. work, a home, kids.
Passion
You don't seem to be in this relationship.
You don't seem to be anywhere.
"And that was how, with a blank mind and stripped of self-respect,
I got Vanda pregnant"
You had lots of body hair. Blond.
And the hair on your head was thick and shiny.
Yes! That's it.
You lost them all for a woman,
Teresa.
How could you have known a few years ago,
back in Hamburg, that you would come to Rio
and discover a new life?
Do you believe my story?
I believe everything you want to tell me.
I will be the writer that exists inside you.
The landowner; the nun that became a model;
the conman that became an entrepreneur.
I will make everyone understand your greatness.
I guess if I'd spent time writing, I wouldn't have had time to live.
That must be why so many writers end up... blind.
Szavak...
Szerelem...
what's up, Quinzinho? Cut it out!
what's the problem? what's going on?
This kid. He doesn't say a thing and now he's started making funny noises.
Aristotle started speaking when he was eight.
Besides, he's you're son, isn't he, Costa?
He's just imitating you. Aren't you, darling?
Poetry collapses on the inside
Hungarian Consulate - Invitation
...do you mean the park in the city?
The one with the Anonymous writer?
Yes, he wrote Gesta Hungarum!
we Hungarians are the Brazilians of Eastern Europe...
Long live the poet Kocsis Ferenc!
My loving, lovely flower
...you are
unique, intact, untranslatable
This must be a truly great writer, a great man!
Could you give us an autograph?
Of course!
Good night!
Good night. It's a pleasure to meet you.
Unique, intact, untranslatable!
Unique!
Unique, intact, untranslatable!
You know, for a moment there I felt like his muse...
The woman to whom he dedicates all his words.
You're the only one who didn't Notice he's not into women.
Are you mad, Costa? His eyes sparkle.
Did you see his aura?
where are you?
In here.
The guy must be a celebrity in Hungary.
You... You say you write so much, but I've never seen your name anywhere.
I don't even know what to tell people down...
at the TV station when they ask what my husband does.
Hang on, I've got lotion all over me. Stop. Stop.
If you've published a book, you didn't invite me to the launch...
You've never wanted for a thing.
Costa,
you know, I think they're going to invite me to present the new evening news.
Even the Hungarian women know who I am. Did you see how they recognised me?
Yep. That's success.
That's success.
"I discovered that in my dreams I spoke Hungarian.
That stop over in Budapest would have been dead and buried by now,
had the boy not raised it from my dreams.
for over a month I waited for him to repeat those words. "
Say something, just one little word.
Go on.
The rest is silence
Good afternoon.
Hey, Costa.
why haven't you finished Kaspar's biography yet?
I dream about it day and night.
This writing is important to me.
I've never missed a deadline.
A man needs to leave his mark on the world, something he has authored.
Do you know what I mean?
Something he can truly be proud of.
"I, Kaspar Krabbe, was a healthy young blond man when
I sailed into Guanabara Bay.
I roved the streets of Rio de Janeiro and met Teresa.
When I heard Teresa sing, I fell in love with her language. "
And after 3 months of vacillation...
I felt I had the German's story at my fingertips.
"And it was on Teresa's calf that I wrote my first words in the local tongue...
At first she liked it...
and was flattered when I told her I was writing a book on her.
Later she refused me her body because I only wanted to write on her.
The book was already in the vicinity of chapter seven when she abandoned me.
Without her, I lost the plot.
I spent my days catatonic, staring at a blank page.
I tried writing on myself,
but it wasn't as good,
so I went looking for whores. "
Can you write on me?
gain exuberance
fleshy lips
who's he going to pick?
"I paid to write on them,
but perhaps I paid too well,
because they simulated orgasms that robbed me of my attention.
I began to pursue schoolgirls. "
Me too! I wonder what he's going to write.
How many words...
They showed my writing to their classmates, who greatly appreciated it,
and asked me to write my book on them. "
...will lead me...
"Girls came and went from my life. "
...to my beloved?
How many words will lead me to my beloved?
And my book became scattered,
each chapter taking off in a different direction.
That was when I met the one...
who lay on my bed...
and taught me to write back to front".
Come!
"Jealous of my writing...
only she knew how to read it, looking at herself in the mirror,
and she erased by night what had been written by day so that...
I would never cease writing.
And she fell pregnant to me,
and on her belly the book took on new forms.
Days and nights went past, without stopping,
locked in the agency, until I wrote,
with the last of my energy, the last sentence:
And my beloved, of whose milk I had partaken,
made me drink from the water in which she had washed her blouse. "
The Gynographer, by Kaspar Krabbe
It didn't displease me to wander through a city like that, through its map.
Perhaps because I've always had the vague sensation...
that I too was the map of a person.
You were the one who turned down my invitation.
what would I do in Budapest, Costa?
Look at the Danube, drink liqueur, listen to poets.
See if the women recognise you in the street.
You'll be back for my debut on the Evening News, won't you?
I've worked so hard.
Hey Sir! Stop here. Stop!
Tourist, Tourist.
Hi!
Come here...
Fuck? Fuck? Fuck?
How much?
Fuck! Fuck!
- Cigarette? - Cigarette!
Hello Friend!
My friend!
Hungry?
Hungary! Beautiful...
No! No! No! Hungry?
You!? You!? Hunger?
Come here! Come here!
Let's eat!
I'm going to show you a beautiful place
Here's the biggest asshole in Budapest!
Come on, man!
Lots of drinks, lots of girls and...
Palinka! Palinka original!
A Hungarian specialty!
Come on!
I'm going first!
Sorry man!
Come on, man...
Really close to the heart
Again!
It's not fair!
Again!
It's not fair!
Kszn... Thank you.
One doesn't learn Hungarian from books
- No? - One doesn't learn.
They say it's the only language that the Devil respects.
Author's Store
writer's shop My hotel... Hotel...
Plaza...
Square.
Square...
In Hungarian it's square.
Square.
Are you coming with me?
Come. Run!
Run!
House..
Man.
Sorry!
Cold, isn't it?
Tree!
Path!
Man!
Restaurant!
Bird, sky.
Bye.
Restaurant!
Path, Path, Path!
Up, down!
where are you from? why are you running after me?
Kriska.
In Hungarian.
You see, Costa? Don't you understand?
Me, Kriska.
You don't understand, but you will understand.
You'll understand one day.
...you
yes speak in Hungarian, will know
I'm going to give you Hungarian, my language.
OK?
Come!
Swallow.
So...
besides teaching Hungarian, what do you do?
In Hungarian,
just in Hungarian.
Yes!
No problem,
you have to try constantly.
You will try constantly...
constantly.
Kriska...
...Flemle
Try to make words.
words...
Square.
Fur coat.
Is that good?
In Hungarian.
Come...
- Hello! - Hello!
Come in.
Joker!
In Hungarian.
Joker in Hungarian.
Jos Costa, at your service.
K˘sta Zsoze, your name in Hungary is K˘sta Zsoze.
Come here you little rascal!
Introduce yourself!
I'm her son.
Pisti.
Do you want to see him up close?
Take a good look.
K - rk - p r. Bicycle!
No, no, no.
K - rk - p r.
Are you teaching K˘sta Hungarian?
Thank you Pisti!
Bicycle!
I forgot to draw the pedal!
Pedal, very important.
It's important to have pedals.
Important!
Airplane,
bike no...
Bike no... bicycle.
Car,
Balloon,
Now we speak the same language.
I had a really weird dream.
dreamt I was in a garden and...
no one recognized me and they left me alone.
I went home and found another me...
sleeping in my bed.
NATIONAL PSYCHIATRY INSTITUTETIMEIN
Persona comes from the Latin verb per-sonare,
which means to "sound through".
Persona...
it was a mask with a slit in front of the mouth...
to allow the actor's voice to reach the audience
and thus, what the words expressed...
could be in conflict with what the mask represented.
This is the mask.
Show me your drawing!
what's this?
Hello?
Kriska?
It's K˘sta!
There arriving little by little I am...
what?
There arriving...
there arriving little by little I am...
There arriving little by little I am...
Again!
Donkey,
ignoramus,
weasel,
dromedary.
Punish me infinitely!
white, white,
beautiful,
beautiful.
Pisti!
Your father's here!
There are countries that pay homage to the Unknown Soldier.
But, we show our eternal gratitude to the Unknown writer.
He who in anonymity and in the service of King Bela lll,
wrote the most beautiful Hungarian history,
Gesta Hungarorum!
who is he? How did he live?
what was his face like? His voice?
who did he love?
No one knows.
True to his trade, he never allowed his identity to be revealed.
He never cared for fame or fortune.
Nothing.
what mattered to him was serving humanity with his words,
with his writing.
Ladies and gentlemen!
They say touching his pencil brings good luck!
want some luck? Come on!
Come on, sir? Don't be afraid...
You too! You there, come on!
Ok Come with me...
2420456. This is Vanda's house, I can't talk right now.
Leave your message after the tone.
Hi, Vanda, it's Jos...
Vanda?
I'm feeling nostalgic.
Nostalgia..
Sugarloaf Mountain...
...Maracana Stadium...
...Guanabara Bay...
...avenue...
...home...
...nostalgia...
...wasp...
...astringency...
...sensual and cheery.
full of life. It's Rio's latest summer fashion,
light and breezy, showing the authentic personality of Brazilian women.
Bright colours, green, red, yellow, but translated with delicacy this season.
from silk to linen and cotton cambric. "
Vanda?
It's Jos.
Vanda?
The Gynographer
I'm feeling nostalgic.
Nostalgia...
Sugarloaf Mountain...
...Maracana Stadium...
"And my beloved, of whose milk I had partaken,
made me drink from the water in which she had washed her blouse. "
...avenue...
...home...
...nostalgia...
"For wanda, a memento of our tte- -tte,
enchanted, K.K."
...astringency...
Your head's playing tricks on you.
There's nothing going on between Vanda and the German.
Now the German's all worked up.
with all the success, the guy's worried
you're going to show up out of the blue and claim authorship.
This is the affidavit.
It states what the parts have established.
My glasses... My glasses are...
"Mr. Jos Costa, Brazilian, married, ID card 106.755.3356-95...
- Correct? - Correct.
Jos Costa rendered typing services...
for Kaspar Krabbe. "
Dona Marcinha, some coffee please.
I can't drink coffee. I get gastritis, and the reflux is terrible.
"Kaspar Krabbe, German, writer, holder of passport number 849458240...
Correct? Is that it?
Mr. Jos Costa declares that he has nothing more to receive or request.
Mr. Alvaro Cunha here is witness to the affidavit. "
Have you got a pen, please?
The pen.
Thank you.
Mr. Jos Costa, please?
Great. All's well that ends well, right?
Mr. Costa.
"To Mr. Jos Costa, this modest writing, cordially, K.K."
The recognition, the glory, and the success will be yours alone!
Hi. Have you got the book The Gynographer?
Yes, I do. Here it is. Thank you.
Bye, thanks. Hi. Bye.
Hi. Hi. How are you?
Good. wow. Look...
That guy's book is absolutely amazing.
Amazing.
Hi darling.
- Is everything OK? - Yes.
Impressive.
Champagne?
Hmm, wow.
Vanda, darling. Got a minute?
Are you happy with the success of the new news program?
Over the moon! It is a big dream come true!
And our program, our reporting is very serious.
we have a commitment to the population.
- Congratulations, darling. Best of luck. - Thank you.
Champagne?
Gorgeous! This guy is a genius. A genius!
My good man, come here, this is for you.
A toast to Vanda's success.
You're tipsy, aren't you? where's your client, Kaspar Krabbe?
He's over the other side of the party, isn't he?
with your wife... I don't know.
Absolutely amazing.
would you like to live in my books?
Me?
Let's go outside?
Let's, let's.
Hey.
what's this, Costa?
Hey.
She's my wife.
what's this? Stop it? For God's sake. You're hurting me. Everyone's looking!
Costa! Stop it! Let go! Let go! Stop it! Let go! Stop! Stop!
Everybody's looking at us. Stop it, Costa, stop it.
Stop it, let go of me.
I am the author of the book. Not him. It's me.
It's Me!
...green, red, yellow, but translated with delicacy this season.
Pain 2345
"Perhaps, in order to forget the words I had spoken to Vanda,
I needed to forget the actual language in which they had been spoken.
Perhaps it was possible to replace one language...
with another in my head.
for a time, my head would be like
a house undergoing renovations,
with new words being hoisted up through one ear...
and the rubble being lowered down through the other. "
Living is dangerous.
Everything is always hanging by a thread.
I've made some delicious pumpkin rolls.
How many rolls do you want?
How many?
K˘sta!?
How many?
Are you forgetting everything I've taught you?
"Kriska got me a job.
Good morning.
She was trying to tell me I'd have to work like a slave
to pay my room and board. "
why are you crying like that if it doesn't do you any good?
It's the wise man...
One moment.
May I continue!?
Please.
why are you crying like that if it doesn't do you any good?
One Palinka!
Coming right up!
- Here. - Thanks.
A packet of Facsk cigarettes, please.
It's not Facsk. It's Fecske! I beg your pardon?
Do I know you?
It's not Facsk. It's Fecske!
which is the correct pronunciation in Hungarian
who are you to correct me?
A foreigner. Hungarian is my territory.
may be a foreigner...
but I'm not in the habit of mistreating my language like you!
How so?
- Facsk... - Am I mistreating Hungarian?
My mother tongue!
Your mother tongue?
Yes!
My mother tongue!
Cut it out!
You're going to end up destroying my bar.
All right...
I survived the Germans, the Russians... And now, you two!?
All right...
OK. You're both right.
It's Fecske here in Budapest, and Facsk in the Szkely region.
Period!
Sorry.
OK.
See you!
Arse!
Fecske, Facsk!
Cunt!
Tits!
Arse! Tits!
Cunt! Arse!
Tits, cunt, arse!
Fecske, Facsk!
Shit!
what did you say, Pisti?
Don't say words like that. You learned it from your father, didn't you?
Yes.
There'll be no table soccer for a week.
It's written wrong. wrong!
Onomatopoeia in Hungarian poetry has been a tradition.
If we take the main phonemes...
Onomatopoeia in Hungarian poetry has been a tradition.
If we take the main phon...
has been a tradition...
in Hungarian poetry...
in poetry...
I need the transcription for tomorrow.
It's almost ready, sir.
Ready! Almost ready!
It's for you and Professor Pusk s S ndor!
You lazy pachyderm!
Sometimes I find you irritatingly...
familiar!
Flawless!
will forever be your disciple...
Nothing outside of here interests me.
Outside of Budapest, nothing exists...
we accept dissertations,
Yes.
we also write...
Yes.
speeches and novels.
Yes, yes, yes.
Signed Pusk s S ndor, writer.
And please put at the bottom of the ad, in bold:
Total trustworthiness.
Thank you.
Ladies and gentlemen
I have the honor of presenting Kocsis Ferenc!
The great poet.
Unique, intact, untranslatable!
Do you know how I can speak to Pusk s S ndor?
I work for him. How may I help you?
Saw the ad in the paper. I need to write
a dissertation on the Szkely dialect.
It's for my end-of-semester exam. I need a good grade.
Pusk s S ndor knows everything about this dialect.
Thank you.
Eastern Transylvania, the Szkely dialect...
Swallow... Swallow... Swallow... Swallow... Swallow... Swallow...
"The sentences were mine, but they were not sentences.
The words were mine, but they had a different weight.
I wrote as if I were walking through my own house, but in water. "
"I'd never written a single verse in Portuguese,
but in Hungarian I became a poet.
I could write anything. "
Good morning...
Have you got a piece of paper?
Coming right up!
I'd bought it to write my own verses on.
But in your poetic hands it will certainly be better used...
Thank you.
That's just the first poem. I can write others...
what makes you think that growing in shadows is noble?
SECRET TERCETS
One doesn't learn Hungarian from books
what did you say?
One doesn't learn Hungarian from books
It's the only language the Devil respects.
The Devil takes care of what's his...
why did they jump the queue?
Please, sir. Have a little patience.
Thank you, go ahead
It's unconceivable that a cultural event like this,
should become a pageant for the privileged.
Sir! Stop, please!
Nothing is sacred any more!
You are right, but I've already been here for over half and hour...
They're killing poetry in cold blood!
who do you think you are?
Ask the poet...
will you not honor me with an autograph?
with love, I offer...
for K˘sta Zsoze...
this unpretentious writing...
This is for my beloved, Flemle Krisztina.
For Krisztina with love.
Thank you very much... Next!
Photo!
Please feel at liberty, gentlemen! My wife truly is lovely!
Aren't we going on foot?
what was that scene all about?
Literature doesn't need to show off like that.
Secret Tercets is a beautiful book, isn't it?
The verses of Ornithic Introit...
the words are like the beating of a swallow's wings.
A lyricism that one doesn't see anymore.
And the words clashing together in Symphony of the Nymphomaniacs...
And what about the Specular Crepuscule?
Kocsis has an aura about him!
He's a true poet!
Isn't he absolutely amazing?
So-so...
How so-so?
Pisti, could you get the juice from the fridge for me?
It's just an opinion...
Opinion?
what can understand the woman...
that lives for telling stories to crazy loonies?
Pisti, take a look!
Just a little.
Mortiferous!
Good mortiferous or bad mortiferous?
So-so mortiferous...
well K˘sta, there are those who appreciate the exotic...
Exotic? what do you mean exotic?
Poem doesn't seem Hungarian.
It's as if it were written with a foreign accent.
By a foreigner, K˘sta, not a Hungarian.
There's something missing.
True poetry collapses on the inside,
like love.
I'm sick of spaghetti Bolognese!
Mortiferous...
Good evening, sir. Your passport, please.
X CONGRESS OF ANONYMOUS wRITERS
Ladies and gentlemen...
The recognition may be someone else's, but all the merit
belongs to our award-winning ghostwriter.
Now hand you over to Mr. Hungarian.
Best Narrative Award 2001.
This book got the best reviews in the big European newspapers.
The number one best seller for weeks and weeks.
It is not they who take possession of our words...
It is we who write in their notebooks!
Surely you've all heard of this book?
Secret Tercets
Secret Terceiros...
I wrote it.
Yes, yes, yes!
I wrote it! I wrote it!
I you will allow me, I'll read a few verses...
"I wanted to humiliate Kriska's husband with my poetry.
It was an art of which he was ignorant,
and which would make him suffer much more
as he would not know where it hurt.
Who was the better writer, after all?"
That which your eye surmises, seize with your hand and will;
that which your heart disguises, is yours to kiss or kill.
J˘zsef Attila, Hungarian poet, threw himself off a train platform.
True poetry collapses on the inside.
Mr. Brazilian, please...
This gentleman is...
I've been looking for you!
Immigration officer.
we got a tip-off... Your passport, please.
Your situation is completely irregular. Your passport has expired.
I'll check in with the embassy.
I can get it straightened out quickly.
You have 48 hours to leave Hungary.
Get a cold one. feeling thirsty?
Step right up! Get a cold one.
Hey you. Got nothing to do?
Hi. Can I help you?
I'd like The Gynographer.
The Gynographer... Is it a technical book?
No, it's a huge success...
It's been on the bestseller list for 5 years.
- You have it on display. - Hold on. You must be mistaken.
This here is The Shipwreck!
It's already sold more than one hundred thousand copies!
,It's all the rage at the moment. Alvaro Cunha is the author, look.
He's a great philosopher.
Hello?
Hello, K˘sta Zsoze?
Speaking.
Praise the Lord! We've finally found you!
I'm the Hungarian Consul in Rio de Janeiro,
Puski K ntor.
Have you ever heard of Lantos, Lorant & Budai?
Yes, yes, I have. They're the biggest publishers in Hungary.
They have purchased a Rio-Budapest plane ticket in your name.
And you will be granted permanent residency!
what do you mean, permanent residency?
The consulate will take care of everything.
You will be welcome in our country!
See you soon, Mr. Costa.
Secret genius!
Genius!
Secret genius!
Genius!
Secret genius!
Genius!
what does Budapest mean in your life?
Has it changed your life?
I am not the author of the book!
Did you record that?
You've got the wrong guy!
Thank you very much!
Is it mine?
Few ex-husbands are like that. when he heard I was pregnant,
he told Pisti he'd bring you back to me.
Pumpkin rolls...
...this hairless German, Anonymous Authors' Conference,
this woman Vanda... where did you come up with all this?
Amazing!
Absolutely amazing!
My Kriska...
will you not honor me with an autograph?
I course!
word... word... words...
want to be a true poet?
Jump!
No!..
No!
what's wrong?
Is everything OK?
- You've already read it so many times... - A literary work must...
have nuances that can only be perceived through the author's voice.
The self that speaks.
K˘sta Zsoz...
A book is like an intimate encounter between two people.
Read... read to me... It will calm you.
I love the ending...
"It should be against the law to mock someone...
who tries his luck in a foreign language. "
Dear Kriska...
did you know that I conceived this book that is now ending just for you?
Jos Costa...
K˘sta Zsoze..
"Kriska knew I was reading the book...
at the same time as the book was happening.
And my beloved,
of whose milk I had partaken, made me drink from the water...
in which she had washed her blouse.
It should be against the law to mock someone
who tries his luck in a foreign language.
One morning,
when I accidentally left the metro at a blue station exactly like hers,
with a name similar to that of the station near her place,
I called from a phone booth
and said: there I am arriving almost.
I instantly suspected I'd made a blunder.
She started to laugh and asked me to repeat the sentence.
There I am arriving almost... "
Cut!