PORTUGAL AT THE END OF THE SIXTIES
Every year, the sea sweeps away
the strip of sand that cuts the line of the dunes, pours in,
penetrates the corridor and fills the Iagoon fertilising it with new life.
The wide basin, lined with black mud, swirls and ove_lows.
After the first rush of water it fills up with small flickering tails.
The lagoon lies calm and majestic
like the luminous skin of abandoned fish among the trees in the valley.
The lagoon and the Palma Bravo family
are part of the same stoy as far as the local inhabitants are concerned.
The width ofthe water at the mouth ofthe valley
looks like a large hall guarded by a number of governors.
A low reliefworn down by time
that is impossible to decipher figure by figure.
DAUPHIN
A FILM OF
BASED ON THE NOVEL OF
WRITTEN BY
There he goes, Palma Bravo, the engineer, the prince,
owner of the lagoon, our master,
with that woman, the nigger and the dog.
The son of a bitch!
Careful what you say, old man. He's a friend of mine.
You've got a good friend there! But let's leave it.
From here on in, l'll learn to keep my mouth shut.
Sorry if l offended you. If you'll excuse me, l'll go and get the bags.
Did you enioy the shoot?
One hundred and twelve ducks, in two days.
One hundred and twelve, very good. Not even Tomás could equal that.
Don't be subversive, Father.
- You are lucky. - Lucky? You mean know how.
Lucky to be invited.
l've never been invited.
l like to shoot too, just as much as you l'm sure.
l've been shooting since l was a youngster.
l'm the authority in this part of the world.
l'm chairman of the Parish Council, the post-master
and l'm also responsible for the wardens in the woods.
As well as that l'm a representative of the Insurance Company,
the Agricultural Cooperative,
and l have a daughter studying at the university in Lisbon,
but l've never been invited.
l don't exist as far as Palma Bravo is concerned.
Perhaps he has his reasons.
Politics, is that what you want to say. Politics?
A feeble excuse, very feeble.
Especially to me, he never needed politics with me.
l never belonged to the National Union, or even to this new thing,
neither one nor the other.
Gafeira made me, that and hard work, believe me.
Full stop. It's not worth crying over spilt milk.
He's entitled to invite whoever he wants.
What about us? The staff earns a bit with the folks he invites
who eat and sleep in the house, but don't give one dime?
What right do they have to treat us like they treat that nigger?
l'm not talking about you, sir. It's not your fault.
There's no doubt about that.
Well, l hope you'll excuse my letting off steam.
So, until next year. Gafeira won't go away, nor will l.
Manuel Rego, at your service.
See you next year.
Rego isn't a bad man. And he's right basically.
Being subversive again, Father.
Attacks on property are very seditious.
Things will end badly to you.
- See you next year, Father. - See you next year.
God willing.
- Where are you going? - To Lisbon for a few days.
- Alone? - Yes.
- Why don't you take me with you? - l'll be busy. Man's business.
l wouldn't be able to spend time with you
and l don't want you Ioose among your friends.
Another week shut up here without seeing a soul.
You've no idea how sorry l am for you.
Domingos!
l don't feel like doing anything.
Play solitaire...
Domingos!
What about the prince? Did you see him in Lisbon?
What about you? Are you still selling tickets that never come up?
Did you see him in Lisbon?
A crime. A crime, l'm telling you.
Dogs, servants, Dona Mercês. None of this exists any more.
- Oh, come on, man! - l swear to you on my soul.
Dona Mercês killed the servant and the prince killed her.
People are saying things about Dona Mercês and the servant.
lt seems she tried to run away and the prince killed her.
The prince was like that, wasn't he?
lt's over. It's all over.
They've torn each other apart and got their just desserts.
Anyone who wants to shoot over the lagoon
doesn't have to ask for the prince's permission anymore.
l know. l got a letter from Rego.
They've got a co-operative that rents out the lagoon, haven't they?
They haven't. The chairman has. He's a little prince.
PENSlON
- May l? - How are you?
Please, do come in. Put the bag down there, the girl will take it.
Come here, girl, take this. Did you have a good journey?
- Very good indeed. - The usual room.
Thank you.
- How are you? - Very well.
There he goes, off to the café, he's got no shame.
Well here l am again.
ln exactly the same room l stayed in
on my first visit to the village, a year ago.
Where for entertainment and out of curiosity
l made a note of my conversations with Tomás Manuel da Palma Bravo,
the engineer.
The window, the café, the square, the asphalt road,
pine trees on the horizon illuminated by a crown of clouds.
The lagoon.
When l make my will l want to be buried in the lagoon.
lt's much better to be in the lagoon than in a grave full of insects.
Buried down in the mud where the fish can't get at me.
There are fish in the lagoon that bury themselves.
l admire their pride.
l call that breeding, nerve, wisdom.
They're special fish.
They cary out their own last requests.
Dona Mercês, dead in the lagoon, poor thing.
What a state of affairs.
lf only Palma Bravo hadn't thought so much about the lagoon.
All because of his grandfather, Dom Tomás and his father.
He had great respect for them. He wanted to be like them.
He made many mistakes, l can't deny that...
... but if he spent a fortune on wardens and on the lagoon
his intentions were good, l can understand his honouring the dead,
so all his mistakes can be forgiven.
There's never been the slightest scandal in the family.
- Don't you believe me? - Now a crime's been committed.
The lottery ticket seller, Holy Mother of God.
So? These things are now part of the lagoon.
The lottery ticket seller is ungrateful. Completely worthless.
lf he bit his own tongue he'd die of poisoning.
But there are still those who believe his tales,
through wickedness or ignorance.
l should shut up!
As if Palma Bravo would kill his wife over a servant...
A servant! What nonsense!
A man like that. If he had any faults at all it was that he was a womaniser,
always chasing skirts as they say.
Kill his wife over a servant, nonsense!
lf there'd been a killing like he says,
if someone had thrown her into the lagoon,
the body wouldn't have stayed down there.
Wouldn't it have floated up to the top? And the autopsy?
What are autopsies for?
What are they for? Would they be wrong?
An accident, it was iust an accident, nothing more.
God forgive me.
The lagoon destroys.
lt destroys.
Palma Bravo keeping that poor woman in a deserted spot like that.
Dona Mercês...
A good...
... but an unhappy life.
Unhappy.
Come in.
l've brought some lemonade, l thought you might be thirsty.
Here. Thank you.
You'll spoil the girl.
Didn't l tell you? The prince isn't in Lisbon.
The devil, this is the very devil.
Do you think he might have gone to Africa?
Africa? Don't make me laugh.
He'd never be safe in Africa, they'd catch him straight away.
Well anyway, he's run away.
Somebody who runs away doesn't want to be caught and that's a fact.
Now, they'll try and catch him.
He killed, committed a crime,
and they say life's iust. - Two deaths.
One.
One. Domingos was killed by the lady of the house.
The truth came out at the inquest.
The verdict was no crime was committed.
According to the post-mortem the servant died a natural death.
The woman killed herself, that's all. Full stop.
Never mind the inquest. She killed the servant out ofjealousy
and the prince killed the woman out ofjealousy. Can't you see that?
Can't you see that if it was like that
the prince, the very soul of the devil,
would have nothing to hold on to?
Don't you understand?
They talk about ghosts, even ghosts of dogs.
They've taken the tiles off the house.
The souls of the Palma Bravo family are brawling it out.
The souls and the dogs.
The soul of Domingos even appears disguised as a three-legged dog.
- They say. - Serves him right.
Didn't Domingos want to be the prince's dog all his life?
Didn't he behave like one?
He got the comeuppance he deserved, nothing more nor less.
He died like the dog he was.
The prince came to a iust end. He made his bed and had to lie in it.
As they say,
he who fucks around, gets fucked.
A complete mess.
A very big mess.
lt's got cramps. It needs new springs.
When l saved Domingos from the guillotine, he was completely useless.
l did a lot of work on him! And look at him now.
He can do anything he likes with the Jaguar.
An agile hand is a clever hand.
He is a precision instrument. And there's no precision
without the special, highly refined touch that he has.
Come to think about it, it's like dogs,
faithfulness can be measured by their precise reaction to stimuli.
Don't you agree, Mercês?
ls he a good driver?
He doesn't like to drive but he's getting used to it.
lt's not surprising, with the frights he's had.
When the car gets onto the road, he starts getting dizzy.
Nerves?
Heart. He's got the heart of a little bird.
My darling, Tomás. Why don't you say that the boy is afraid?
There's nothing to be ashamed of in being afraid. l am afraid.
The way you drive l don't know anybody who wouldn't be afraid.
What nonsense!
lf it weren't for his heart we'd see if he could really put his foot down.
Domingos is untouchable as far as this man's concerned.
When l make my will, l want to be buried in the lagoon.
lt's much better to be buried there than in a grave full of insects.
How awful, Tomás. You're impossible today.
Buried at the bottom in the mud where the fish can't go.
For a start l think it's in very bad taste.
Besides which a funeral like that must cause an awful lot of bother.
l don't see why, Mercês.
There are some villages in Amazonia that have underwater cemeteries.
So, that's it. Get some diving suits.
Diving suits, again. What a mad idea. You'll end up giving me nightmares.
Gravediggers in diving suits!
ls that or isn't it amazing?
There are fish in the lagoon that bury themselves.
l admire their pride. l call that breeding, nerve and wisdom.
They're special fish, they carry out their own last requests.
You, disappear!
Honestly, this story fascinates me.
A few days ago one of my servants saw two of their bodies being dragged up
from the bottom of the lagoon. They were immaculate.
Bodies of saints, bodies of holy fish.
Absolutely. He said they were immaculate.
That's enough.
Well, l've got to go.
- See you tomorrow. - See you tomorrow.
Another whisky for the road?
Cemeteries are for everybody, the lagoon is mine alone.
l love being exclusive.
Absolutely love it.
Absolutely.
Father, these names,
names of sons who succeeded their parents.
The blessings of the Palma Bravos.
And l'm barren...
... barren as a desert.
- l haven't given Tomás an heir. - l understand your sorrow.
Perhaps you don't believe me, but l understand.
But l can't absolve your despair.
Despair is the worst of sins. It's the ultimate sin.
You have to love and respect your husband as you promised.
No matter what he does, no matter who he is,
you must be patient,
find Christian patience and above all, needless to say...
... you must believe in the grace of God.
God will never abandon you,
but you might abandon Him.
Do you understand what l mean?
l understand, Father.
Then go in peace, and wait.
Wait.
- Is everything in order? - Yes. Thirty-seven, all members.
- Let's be off then. - When you're ready.
- Does everyone know what to do? - Yes.
- You're absolutely sure? - Yes, absolutely.
Good, let's not have any accidents. Let's go, good hunting.
Thank you.
l've kept the best part for you. You're almost family.
- Thank you. - Not at all.
You'll be treated the same with us as you were in the days of the engineer.
As a special guest.
- Have you got a lot of members? - Everybody.
The teacher, the doctor, even the parish priest.
ln time we hope to get a subsidy from Tourism.
Subsidy?
Of course, shooting is a tourist activity.
Development, progress, and besides that,
if we're well organised, we can supply some restaurants in Lisbon.
The better ones, you understand. Good business.
Your license is almost out of date, by the way, don't forget.
Nothing like having your documents in order.
The Palma Bravo family, the three-legged werewolf,
the one-armed dog, Domingos, the whole mess.
Noblemen, servants, dogs.
Nobody's missing.
Give everything away except the dogs and horses.
l know that one,
it belongs to Uncle Gaspar.
The nobleman who went blind.
Quiet. Can't you see he's in heavy mourning?
ln mourning, why?
Hell, are you deaf or something?
Mourning because of his daughter who dishonoured him, who else?
When Uncle Gaspar said he'd give everything away
except the dogs and horses he had his reasons.
Can l go on?
- And we stop drinking? - Have some respect, man.
lt's a man's honour that's at stake.
- Sounds like a fado. - Quiet!
This isn't a fado. This is a man, Uncle Gaspar.
When his daughter ran away with a no good, a complete idiot,
he dressed in mourning from head to toe.
Trousers, waistcoat, shirt, the whole nine yards.
Then he burnt everything that was hers: portraits, letters,
clothes, even furniture.
Whatever it was that would remind him of his daughter.
Even the furniture!
ln the end, all that was left was a sort of emptiness...
... of fear.
Then Uncle Gaspar called the servant and told him,
''Saddle up Cadete and come with me. Wait.
''Bring Pardala as well''.
Off he went with Cadete with silver reins,
a white suede saddle and Pardala, a greyhound,
wearing a beautiful collar.
Nobody in the house saw him.
But they heard the shots from a distance, down by the lagoon.
One for Pardala and five or six for Cadete.
- At least he didn't kill the servant. - Keep quiet.
This is a question of a man's honour.
The moral of the story is that when Uncle Gaspar killed Pardala and Cadete
it was to be free of everything he'd believed in.
He no longer believed in loyalty.
He preferred to be alone.
There are some dogs over by the lagoon.
They're mine. People who know animals know them by their bark.
Uncle Gaspar knew women. He certainly did!
What's that saying? Keep a goat and a woman...
He said he knew them by their teeth.
lt's nothing to laugh about. l do too. One day l'll show you.
l'm like Uncle Gaspar.
lf l had a daughter she'd be educated for marriage.
Don't you believe me? Indeed. If she were unfaithful to her husband
it would be like being unfaithful to me. Definitely.
Keep a goat and a woman on a short leash.
Aninhas, isn't there any more whisky in the house?
You can all me primitive, you can call me what you like,
l don't give a shit, get it? l don't give a shit.
But this, there's nothing in the world to justify it.
As far as l know there's always whisky in the house.
Aninhas, do you know the justification for being unfaithful?
The real theory of cuckolding? You don't know?
Sure you don't.
- What a way to talk! - Then Aninhas, you're fucked!
- Where's my wife? - Playing solitaire, as usual.
Twenty-three years she's been working for her sick husband
and if you ask her she'd answer immediately:
''What can l do? Marriage is a contract.''
That's how it should be, but this you don't talk about.
Did you know that in times gone by, gamblers bet women?
So l've heard.
And if they lost?
lf they lost they handed them over.
Or do you think they were cuckolded because of that?
l think to your way of thinking they broke the contract.
Contract? l don't understand.
l think l've had too much to drink.
Do you know why you shouldn't fuck your wife?
Because you shouldn't fuck a member of the family.
A man who loves his wife, doesn't fuck her.
No, no l can't, l've already told you l can't.
l can't even go to Gafeira, to the Sabrosas to play canasta,
much less go to Lisbon. Especially not with you.
l'm locked here.
With seven keys. With seventy.
With seven hundred keys.
You can't imagine, like the dogs and the servants.
What an idea, he won't let me have a car, precisely because of that.
''Definitely, my darling, there's no way''.
There's no way l can go out without him or his nigger
and Tomás knowing everything l do.
What do you think? l even miss school, l miss the nuns.
l even miss that one and Mother Lúcia.
You probably don't believe me, my dear,
but l dream about the telephone or somebody coming to the house.
Believe it or not days go by without my speaking a word.
Sometimes l even forget the sound of my own voice
and l start shouting,
''Maria das Mercês Pereira Palma Bravo,
''Maria das Mercês da Cunha Pereira Basto''
well known families in Santarém and Sáo Martinho do Porto.
lt's not really iealousy; l don't know how to explain it.
He doesn't like anyone l like.
lf he suspects l like someone, or l find someone nice,
he gets rid of them or starts to say bad things about them.
Anybody, even Aunt Fininha, can you imagine!
Mr. Palma Bravo says he is waiting for you to taste the wine.
Tell him l'll be there in a minute.
lt was the maid. Tomás is waiting for me.
He's so faithful, loyal to himself.
You? You mainly.
No, it's not worthwhile.
Do you really want to know?
You're a whore in rhyme, you write erotic poetry.
You publish a book every year and every year you change your lover
to keep Francisco betrayed.
And other things, but it's not worthwhile.
You're a worthless, fucked up poetess.
Separate! You're mad! You don't know Tomás.
Besides...
... l can't live without him.
Mercês are you coming or not?
lt's him, he's here. Sorry, l have to go, l must go.
Yes, l'll phone when l can. l promise, honestly. Goodbye.
Mercês, if you're not coming I'll go on my own.
Just a minute!
- Who were you talking to? - Nobody.
Yes, you were, with that whore Micucha, l bet.
For God's sake, Tomás, l wasn't talking to anybody.
- Much less to Micucha. - If l were you l wouldn't go on so.
l don't know whether l told you or not but l'm going to Lisbon tonight.
Good evening. Good evening gentlemen.
Hello!
Sit here.
- So you're here again, sir? - Yes, Martins.
Get another one for the boy here. Very strong.
Paulo!
''More than a thousand years
''Have passed
''And l don't know whether l love'' Drink, man.
Hey you.
No, not you, the other one.
- Yes, you. - Me?
Hey there...
Come here.
l'll be back, alright?
Open your mouth, girl.
What's your name?
Lurdes, sir.
Lurdes, yes...
Very appropriate. What a lovely name.
Well, Lulu, take five hundred escudos to take the boy upstairs
and scrub the boy well. Very well.
lt'll be a pleasure.
So? What are you waiting for? Service is service.
- Off you go. - Don't be afraid, l'm very gentle.
Hey, Lurdes. Don't spoil him.
He's mine.
l'm trying to cure him, the bastard. Sometimes he looks like a pansy.
Give me another one, Martins.
How long did it take you to get here?
From Gafeira to here? An hour and a half.
A hundred and thirty five kilometers, an hour and a half
not a second more.
- But l've done better. - So you've given up racing then?
l'm still thinking about it, Martins.
Lotus want me, Jim Clark too...
He even called me, but l don't know...
lt's tough, Martins. It's a hard life.
- Don't you miss it? - Of course l do. What do you think?
ln Milan l missed winning by a second, had a problem with the transmission.
More than a thousand years Have passed
- Hello, prince, so you're here? - l might say the same,
l thought you were in Africa.
Pregnant and married to a second lieutenant.
TO a Captain, Virß inia, to a captain at the very least.
Me? Not even to a general!
l couldn't agree with you more. Absolutely!
lt's ruined for you people now, isn't it?
That's Portuguese colonisation for you. Get me another one, Martins.
Sorry, sir,
but you're driving home, the road's dangerous...
Martins, three things. First,
l never get drunk not even with all the whisky in the world.
Second, my car knows the way home, from here to Gafeira. Third.
What's the third?
Third.
The third l'm now going to show to Virgínia. Oh yeah!
Domingos is very complicated. l take him to Lisbon, give him money,
leave him to do as he likes and he does nothing.
- Nothing? - Nothing. So the girls say.
Must be his complex about his hand...
Or he doesn't like it. l don't understand.
They must be awful.
Mercês, it's all you can get. And they're not that cheap.
That's all l need, a queer servant.
Tomás, don't say that, poor Domingos.
When we got married you were always talking about midnight bathing.
- In this weather? - Who knows?
They say the water's better at midnight.
And you promised. A king doesn't break his word.
Yes, my queen. That's settled then.
Tonight at midnight, a ceremony in the lagoon.
Naked?
Yes, naked, it's much more fun.
- What about wardens along the river? - What do l care about the wardens.
- What about a touch of pneumonia? - Excuses, Tomás.
Aren't you the one who is always saying these waters are miraculous?
And they are...
Excuse me.
Tomás.
Dom Tomás, my lady.
As l am the oldest
l have been chosen, if you'll allow me,
to say a few words.
God, in his infinite mercy
wanted the poor of Gafeira to have as their masters,
people with hearts illuminated by love and charity
for the less fortunate.
For this great gift, we thank God
and give thanks to Dom Tomás
and his wife, Dona Maria das Mercês, who have most generously invited us,
called us here to sit
at this table on Christmas Eve.
Our gratitude is eternal, as eternal as the life that the Lord grants
to those who do good on earth.
But the old ones say that everything has its time
and the time has come for us to say farewell.
We have to get ready for tomorrow.
Tomorrow there's another party.
The chairman of the parish council has arranged an excursion.
Didn't l tell you? Poor and not at all grateful.
Do stop, Tomás.
More than a thousand years Have passed...
Domingos, Aninhas! Mercês, let's drink a toast.
l don't know if l will find Love in eternity
But there as here, take my mouth The taste of me
l shan't possess you
l am nothing l have no illusions in my life
l do the good
l'm so poor l can't do Anything else
More than a thousand years Have passed
And l don't know if l will find Love in eternity
But there as here, take my mouth
The taste of me
l shan't possess you
l am nothing l have no illusions in my life
- Tomás! - What's this then?
What's this? So?
You're an animal.
l'm sorry about the Christmas Eve supper.
lt wasn't a good idea.
l couldn't give a shit.
Tomás, don't be so vulgar.
Body of Christ.
Amen.
- Body of Christ. - Amen.
Body of Christ.
Get out of here, you fucking nigger, out!
You stink! Get out of here!
Shit! You mean you let a bastard like that beat you up?
Don't you understand that when they insult you they're insulting me?
You shit. Do you hear? Be a man. Defend yourself, chicken shit.
- Defend yourself. - Stop that!
- Leave Domingos in peace! - Let me go! Let me go!
Tomás...
For God's sake, Mercês...
Forget it.
Tomás, my dear love...
Mercês, let me sleep.
Have you seen Domingos?
He's in the attic, in his room.
- Are you sure? - l've just come from there.
Promise you'll never go to Lisbon again with my husband?
l promise. If l do l'll cut off my other hand.
Don't say that, never say that ever.
- l promise, l'd rather go blind. - Quiet.
Dona Maria das Mercês,
please don't tell your husband what happened.
What's the matter? What are you looking at?
You want to talk, is that it?
What are you looking at?
- Have you gone mad? - Let's talk!
Have you gone completely mad?
Have you gone mad?!
Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!
You shitty prince!
Mercês!
That night, Mercês ran through the wood to Urdiceira.
When they found her she was injured, she had scratches
on her face, arms, hands,
legs, knees. It was very sad.
l'm not being sentimental.
l don't want to make her into an Ophelia.
She ran away blindly in her bare feet and nightdress,
she got caught on the branches, brambles, she slipped on the moss,
hit the pine trees, poor soul.
More than two kilometers, to Urdiceira.
The lagoon finally got her.
But l'm sure she was heading for the sea.
For the sea. It could only have been the sea.
Bury this whore!
Bury the whore.
Bury this whore.
Bury this whore!
You didn't dare coming here, did you?
You don't have the balls, do you?
Fucking bastard!
Shitty prince!
She betrayed you, didn't she? Yes she did.
And very well.
And with the nigger, my noble lord...
... with the one-armed man.
Dare to say you own the lagoon, Palma Bravo!
Come on, say you're our boss!
You don't boss anything! Nothing, you asshole!
You're dead!
And you know what l say?
This!
This, this, this and this!
- What's going on, Father? - Palma Bravo's at the petrol station,
drunk as a lord and he's getting ready to come here.
Tomás Manuel coming to Gafeira? Never.
Dear God, if he comes here all hell will break loose.
Don't exaggerate, it isn't the end of the world.
You'll see, this is serious.
No it isn't. Relax.
Even when he's drunk Tomás Manuel knows just how far he can go.
You can't imagine how worried l am.
Yes l can. l'd be worried too if he were to come here, but he won't.
Look, don't stand out there, why don't you sit in the car?
None of this would have happened if l'd taken Domingos seriously.
Three days before he died he came to me to see if l'd help him
to get a iob in Lisbon and stupidly l just didn't realise.
Believe me, l could have saved him.
The trouble was l didn't realise he was in a panic.
- He was strange, Domingos. - He was. He was an odd fellow.
Tomás Manuel had beaten him the night before
and l thought that was why he wanted to leave. How stupid of me.
l'll never forgive myself.
Forgive yourself, Father, be charitable.
l'll see you next year, Father. Don't be upset.
Mercês is dead, Domingos too
and the prince is finished.
He'll never come back.
You're probably right.
Thank you.
And now sleepiness
sleepiness, sleepiness...
Let the night fall.
Adaptation and Subtitling Alexandre Bettencourt l CRISTBET Ltd.