O Fim e o Princípio (2006) - full transcript

"THE END AND THE BEGINNING"

SÃO JOÃO DO RIO DO PEIXE

BACKLANDS, PARAÍBA STATE, BRAZIL

We came to Paraíba

to try to make a film

with no prior background research,

no particular theme or location.

We wanted to find

a rural community

that we liked

and that would accept us.

We might not find

the place right away

and would keep looking in

other settlements.

Maybe we wouldn't

find the place at all

and the film would become

this search for a location,

and especially a search

for characters.

Our only prior research

was for lodging.

According to a guidebook,

in São João do Rio do Peixe

there was a decent hotel.

So we started our search

in that county.

The night before

we started filming,

the production director,

Raquel Zangrandi,

made some contacts

at the hotel,

to locate some volunteer

from the Children's Mission,

we knew because

of their work,

they would know all the

villages and settlements.

That's how Raquel located

Rosilene Batista, "Rosa",

who lived at Araçás,

4 miles from town.

We showed up

unannounced,

since they

had no telephone.

90-some years old, ma'am?

94.

- What relation are you to her?

- Granddaughter.

- What's your name?

- Rosa.

- Luzia.

- Granddaughter?

- Yes.

- And him?

José.

Grandson?

He's a grandson.

- What do you do for a living?

- I'm a schoolteacher.

I teach first grade.

I'm also a volunteer

in the Children's Mission.

Do you know

why we're here?

- Not really.

- Not a clue?

She told me sort of to do

a film, or something like that.

You're doing a survey.

A film, like a documentary.

But we had a reason to look for you,

besides your having

such a nice family.

The Children's Mission

volunteers are supposed

to know the whole county,

all the villages, true?

Yes, I know the area

pretty well.

Not every last inch

firsthand,

'cause I don't live there

in all the villages,

but I know a little

about each one.

The idea is not to film

the State or the county seat.

We want a little place

here in São João.

If we don't find it here

we'll go to Cajazeiras.

If not there, then Patos.

We have to find the place.

We're starting here.

From scratch.

We found you. You're the first person.

So we're asking you to help us.

Who knows, we may make

the entire film here, or part of it.

Because if it doesn't work

to make the film here,

we'll go to another county,

like gypsies.

But if we can shoot it here

it'll be fantastic.

We want to hear stories.

We want to hear people talk

about their lives. What about you?

If she told her story she'd tell

about when she was born

the time when they ate

roots to keep from starving,

during the Great Drought,

Granny-Godmother,

could you tell

what your life was like

ever since you were a child?

I can't say much, because

my memory fails me.

But can you remember anything

from when you were little?

Back in 1915,

during the Great Drought,

what was life like?

All I know is

1915 was dry.

We ate boiled cactus

to keep from starving.

I spent my days

hoeing the fields.

Working from sunup

to sundown, right?

Just slept a little

at night.

Got up before sunrise

to card cotton,

so I could spin

when I found time.

Did you pray

over the sick children?

I prayed over many.

Prayed away all their ills.

Like what?

The evil eye, the runs,

drooping breastbone,

congestion,

hot and cold constipation.

I healed it all with prayer.

Pray out loud now

for me to hear.

- Rosa.

- Rosa. What ails you?

- The evil eye.

- Evil eye...

Get thee away

with the olive branch.

Take this ailment

from Rosa.

The evil eye, the hex,

and the runs.

Take this ailment

from Rosa's head.

The evil eye, the hex,

and the runs.

God is good, God is great

and washes away all evil.

Get thee back forever more!

God is the Father,

Our Lady the Mother.

SECOND DAY OF FILMING

Rosa, we have a long journey

today, where are we going?

Riachão dos Bodes, Pedra Redonda,

Jerimum, and Bandarra.

Are they villages?

Some are villages.

Turn there, take the next right.

Tell me a little

about each place.

The first village, Riachão,

what's it like?

It's a community like mine.

But with fewer people.

Where the drought relief

program dug the wells.

- Where is Mrs. Rosa?

- She's inside.

We want to have a

word with her, alright?

Morning, Mrs. Rosa,

how are you?

I'm almost alright.

See these people here?

Who do you think they are?

They from drought relief?

No, they're outsiders,

from Rio de Janeiro.

They want to know a little

about life in the backlands.

I ain't telling my life story

to nobody.

People say, "Rosa,

you've got a good life,

people talk to you

and you say you're fine."

I say, "You expect me

to say I'm down-and-out?

All I can say is

I'm fine."

I live as God will have it,

by the grace of God.

- Who lives over there?

- A family.

- What do you think?

- It's a brother and sister.

- You think that's interesting?

- Who knows, what can I say?

He's the one with the scythe.

He's president

of the local council.

I'd like to stop by to tell

them about our next meeting.

Go ahead.

Hi Dedé, back from the fields?

How's life treating you?

We can't afford

to hire a tractor.

It's hard to get to town,

25 miles away.

Life is hard here.

We just scrape by.

We're on our own.

What makes it so hard?

The distance?

It's far, and dry.

Two days of filming

in Riachão dos Bodes

and similar communities

convinced us

to interrupt our search

for other places.

We realized

that Rosa's relationship

with the locals was limited

basically to work issues,

and didn't create

any real closeness.

So we decided to concentrate

on Araçás,

where Rosa's family has lived

for more than a century.

Start with the drawing

without me saying anything.

Alright.

So, here I'm going

to basically draw

Araçás, the map.

Let's say this is the entrance

to Araçás, okay?

- It might not look perfect.

- That's okay.

But this is basically it.

This is Araçás.

It's big,

because there are more

than 80 families.

This is about where

our house is located.

This is our house.

Can I write in "Rosa"?

And here you've got

my cousin, Zefinha.

She lives next to us.

Zefinha, who's cooking

your meals with my mother.

She's my cousin.

Here from Zefinha's house...

I mean from my house,

here, this way, here,

a little to the east,

is the house where

Zequinha Amador lives.

He's highly respected

around these parts.

He's kin of ours, too.

His mother is

my mother's cousin,

or she's my aunt,

or something like that.

I know she's kin

somehow.

This here is Vermelha,

niece to my aunt Dôra.

And therefore niece

to Assis, right?

Vermelha.

Interesting, Vermelha.

When we took a child for her

to pray over, she'd say:

"Our Father, who art in heaven.

Your papa kill a hog today?

Bring me a piece

of salt pork.

Bring the boy back

to pray again tomorrow."

And there's Leocádio,

who is our kin, too.

He's kind of stuck-up,

because he can read.

And from here,

along this road,

we can see

where Maria Borges lives.

She's kin, too.

Maria Borges,

the midwife.

She was midwife for most of

my brothers and sisters.

Mariquinha?

How are you?

Bless me, Mariquinha.

- Are you ailing?

- Yes, I am.

I wanted to have

a word with you.

Can you talk?

Sure, by the grace of God,

can I ever!

Are you all right?

Look, Mariquinha, this here

is Mr. Coutinho.

These people work with him,

Jacques, Bruno,

and those gals,

and some fellows that also

work with him.

He works with cinema.

They came to make a film

here in Araçás, about the lives,

of the backlanders.

So we came to your house,

because you're an important

person in the community.

Such a grand project,

and an old hag like me.

You sit here.

I always sit here, dearie,

because I'm ailing.

I put the chairs over there.

My name is Maria

Ambrosina Dantas.

But people call me

Mariquinha.

Really? Do you prefer

to go by Mariquinha,

or by your real name?

My given name is Maria,

by the grace of God.

Nicknames are worthless.

If you pray over someone by their

nickname, it don't work.

And you heal everything by prayer,

drooping breastbone,

Open chest, headache,

toothache,

evil eye, the hex, the runs,

chilblains.

The red ill,

taking blood by the word.

Drooping breastbone,

y'all pray here

with a bag of ashes

and lift up

the arms three times.

And tug here

on the ears.

How does the prayer go?

Prayers ain't to be taught.

Does it always work?

Always. Every time.

And they all come

to my door.

Do you charge money?

Never charged a penny.

Praying ain't for sale.

Is it?

Mariquinha, did you enjoy

a shot of liquor now and then?

- Did I ever!

- Was it good?

- It was, and still is.

- You still drink?

- Sure do.

- How so?

When I feel like drinking,

I drink.

She likes a shot of moonshine.

Why shouldn't I drink?

Only when I've got a notion.

True, true.

I'm not asking a favor.

It's my money.

- Were you ever married?

- Just once.

Just once?

Been a widow for 45 years.

- How was your marriage?

- Terrible.

- That bad?

- My marriage was terrible.

Why?

Because he boozed all the time

and was mean to me.

- How long did the marriage last?

- Oh, 17 years.

- Was he mean to you?

- Mean as the devil.

One day he got drunk

was coming through a thicket

and they killed him.

How many children did you

have with him?

Fourteen.

How many survived?

Two.

And it was lucky

that was all.

- Why?

- I'm telling you!

One I raised is now

in Porto Velho, Rondônia,

in the Amazon, this huge world.

I only see him

every five years.

- Does he remember you?

- Yes, he does.

Does he write?

- Call.

- Call?

Do you miss him?

Do I ever.

It's far, isn't it?

But that's all right.

My daughter lives over yonder.

When we're born,

Jesus writes down

how many days we'll live

and the hour we'll die.

- When we're born?

- Yes, sir.

So you aren't worried

about dying, are you?

Scared to death.

- Aren't you?

- Of course I am.

Holy Mother!

What can you do?

Right?

Ain't nothing we can do,

right, sonny?

When the time comes, farewell.

It's like these lights,

all sparkling and all,

and we're left in darkness.

And a lantern is lit,

but it don't light the darkness.

- Why not?

- Because it don't light nothing.

A little light, Holy Mother,

good for nothing.

Yes, sir.

This man is so serious!

Where's he from?

Rio.

Rio de Janeiro.

From Rio de Janeiro?

I never seen you

around these parts before.

Do you like serious people?

- What?

- Do you like serious people?

I don't like stuffy people.

But you're so kind,

and we can gossip.

Old folks like to chat.

Good Almighty!

- Come in, young lady.

- Bless me.

- How are you?

- Better, but getting old.

- How are you?

- Hello, sir, how are you?

Make yourself at home.

Get some chairs

for these youngsters.

Don't worry,

poverty ain't catching.

Girl! Make some coffee

for these folks.

Coffee and sugar.

Do it!

When I go visit, I need to know

if there's food and coffee.

Thank you.

Life's like a clock, that only

Jesus can wind, true?

On the day of reckoning.

How so?

- Sir?

- Explain that to me.

I said, our life

is like a clock

that only Jesus can wind

on the day of reckoning.

That's faith for you.

I reckon so.

Why reckon?

'Cause ever since

I was little

I took life by the horns

raising my kids,

and now I'm old.

But I've seen the good

and the bad,

and now I'm at the end of the road.

Finished. Eighty.

Brought up with no

mother or father.

But I never gave

or took a beating,

never took a beating

from anybody.

Never quarreled with the wife,

never beat her, thank the Lord.

She still has

a little bit of flesh on her

that she's had

ever since we were married.

What do you mean?

I liked to watch over her

when I was young.

But not any more, cause I'm old,

at the end of my road.

It was good, after all,

she's my wife.

I didn't drink.

When I was single

I drank a lot.

But with her, I gave up booze,

cause it's no good.

Before you were married,

did you sow your wild oats?

I drank and partied.

Were you a lady's man?

Man! Was I ever!

You must have been good-looking.

You're still in fine shape.

How long you been married?

What year was it, girl,

that I got married?

It was in '57.

December 26th, 1957.

In '58 I was working

on a drought relief project.

Life is hard.

You worked for drought relief?

From start to finish.

- Did you suffer with the drought?

- Man, did I ever!

Yes, sir!

As I was telling you,

I broke this finger.

I had to haul sandbags,

and couldn't even remember

how I broke my finger.

It was to bring food home

to feed my children.

When I noticed,

the bones had already mended.

I don't care for riches,

although I have a rich nephew,

but I don't give a hoot for his money.

I prefer a poor fellow like me.

He don't give me the time of day.

Cause the money's his, not mine.

But I'll bring a poor fellow

into my home

and give him

food and water.

How was your childhood?

Hard work in the fields?

Ever since I was 5,

toiling in the fields.

Now I'm retired,

cause I'm old.

My eyesight's bad,

can't work anymore.

But I liked it.

Even to this day,

when the rain comes, I say,

"Praise the Lord."

Lordy! If Jesus would just

turn the clock back for me

to work in the fields again.

It's so good!

And later I got married

to a young fellow,

younger than me.

I was 26, he was 18.

We got married, thank the Lord.

We're happy to this day.

Where I live,

nobody says,

"Rita and Zequinha quarrel,"

right, Rosa?

Never.

Rita and Zequinha

never bickered,

were never mean

to each other.

Thank God that ain't for me.

I'd rather die

than spend one second

arguing with him.

- You never argued with him?

- Never!

How long you been married?

Over 40 years.

How are you, sir?

Zequinha, it's me again.

How you been, Rosa?

And married life worked out.

She'll be 70 in October.

Can't recollect the day.

The 19th.

And I'll be 63

on the second of October.

And it all worked out?

The marriage?

Speak up!

- Come again?

- The marriage worked?

- It sure did.

- He's hard of hearing!

No problem with

the difference in age?

None at all.

Worked out fine.

I always figured we

were made for each other.

And it worked.

Because just a touch older

is all right, you know.

After all, I'm getting on, too.

Know who I bought this

land from?

Rosa's father.

Rosa's father? Geraldo?

Geraldo Timóteo.

Sold me these two leagues,

just a little corner of land.

I was a tenant,

and he sold it to me.

Never even wrote up a deed.

He sold it to me,

I paid for it.

He said, "When you want

to register the deed."

I said, "No, leave it as it is."

So we never

registered a deed.

There it is, no deed.

All on your word?

Yes sir, just on our word.

You're still young,

but do you ever think

about growing old,

about when you're going to die?

What?

Ever think about growing old,

dying, that kind of thing?

No.

What we're certain about.

But I think about it a little.

- About what?

- About dying.

- What good does it do?

- No good at all.

The hour is not for us to decide.

God's will be done.

I know God decides the time,

but I think about dying anyway.

Thinking about it is worse.

You have to think about

everything in life.

Leocádio!

If he's not here,

he might be at Vermelha's place.

- Where's that?

- Here, next door.

He's home.

Leocádio!

Can you go over to the window?

If he's asleep, forget it.

Leocádio!

Can you have a word with us?

There's company.

I've got no "punctuation"

for anything today.

Shall we come back

another day?

Sir, please excuse me

until some other day.

What's the best time for you?

My "punctuation"

is all off today.

This here is a shed,

almost a lions' den.

You ever heard

of the lions' den?

The lions' den was

where they threw

the Prophet Daniel,

but the lions

paid him no heed.

So King Darius said:

"Daniel, what have you done,

that the lions haven't

swallowed you?"

And Daniel replied:

"My King, my Lord,

my life is eternal."

So you have an education?

I used to read the Bible.

That's what I liked to read,

and the newspapers,

back during the War,

and the Holy Bible.

But nothing else.

Oh! And a beautiful chapbook.

- A beautiful chapbook?

- A chapbook

by Leandro Gomes de Barros.

Do you know

"Cancão de Fogo"?

- Yes, I do.

- João Grilo?

Camões?

I even had a chapbook,

"The Dream of Camões"

and "The Tin Soldier".

Just poetry.

Such a beautiful book.

Were you ever married?

No, I liked being free.

Free as a bird.

Nobody to tell me

where I could go.

When I was a boy,

my father used to say.

Father never forbid me

from going anywhere.

Not once!

But he'd say,

"If you'd listen to me."

I'd already given

up on the trip.

How many people

working with you?

Seven or six,

all from Rio de Janeiro.

So you're captain

of the Armada?

Or so they say.

You're like

Pedro Álvares Cabral

when he discovered Brazil.

The information

was from an almanac.

There was a lot of good

information in it.

Did you read that a lot?

Indeed I did.

Bought one every year.

- You still read the almanac?

- No, not any more.

This distance from the moon,

how'd you find that out?

87 thousand leagues

according to the information.

From here to the moon.

87 thousand leagues.

This information was straight

from the almanac.

Is it true? Must be, right?

Who knows?

So many words

written in vain.

What do you mean?

Words written in vain

are written but lost.

You think there are ordinary

words and proper words?

There are ordinary words

and proper words.

What's the difference?

A proper word is

one that's really proper.

while a word in vain

is a word with no future.

You mean a proper word

is one that's in the dictionary?

The one in the dictionary

is proper!

And do you prefer proper words

or ordinary words?

We can't use the proper word

'cause not everyone knows

what the proper word is.

Nobody around here knows?

Not just anybody, sir.

Although some may know,

others do not.

When Jesus made the world

He used one word,

and one word only.

For example, window

was really the name window.

It wasn't an awning,

or a Dutch door,

or anything else.

Nowadays, there are

lots of numbers.

Back then it was one word

and one word only,

when Jesus made the world.

And then,

as the story goes,

from the East they came

to build a tall tower

up into the clouds

to mix up all the words

for mankind.

And thus they built

the Tower of Babel.

And thus

mixed up all the words, all the

tongues, all the dictionaries,

with the Tower of Babel.

Thus goes the story.

And if that's a lie,

whoever wrote it is a liar.

This is Leocádio's house.

And next door

is Mrs. Vermelha's place.

And from here we can see

where Vicar lives,

who's my mother's cousin.

Let's stop by.

You on your way?

It's a long walk.

One of these days

we'll stop by.

I'll be on my way,

cause it's time.

- And who's she?

- Teresinha, Careca's aunt.

Anybody home?

- Bless me, Vicar.

- God bless you.

Got some new visitors today.

You like company?

Nobody wants to be alone.

Is Vicar your real name?

My name's Geraldo,

but folks know me as Vicar.

Why?

My Mama talked about

sending me to the seminary.

But she died when I was 5.

I hardly remember her.

So what she used to call me

when I was little

other folks called me, too.

When they say "Geraldo", I look

to see if it's somebody else.

So I'm Vicar.

The name stuck.

Were you born,

in Araçás?

In this very house.

In 1949.

Still work in the fields?

- Right, farming.

- What do you grow?

Corn and beans,

and some livestock.

Lots of folks grow cotton,

but not me.

What do you raise, cattle?

A few cattle, goats,

chickens here and there.

Around these parts, I'm the

only one who rides horseback.

You notice any saddles

in the other places you visited?

I still ride horseback, instead of

a motorcycle, car, bicycle.

Tough life, nothing but work?

Year in, year out.

I ain't never left here.

How'd you happen

to fall in love and marry?

- Bumped into a lady.

- What do you mean?

Stumbled into a girl,

and she said she wanted to.

No beating around the bush.

We just up and got hitched.

This other dame came from Rio

Grande around 3 months ago.

I asked her if she wanted

to stay and cook my beans,

and she said, "I'm staying."

Just like that? Later she can

tell her side of the story.

She just might tell the same

story, give or take a little.

Was it good

getting hitched twice?

Yes, I was married

29 years to the first missus.

It was wonderful,

but sad when she died.

Any children?

No, sir.

First wife, when I got married,

was already middle-aged.

You regret not having children?

Sometimes I wonder,

but I see folks that have kids,

and they quarrel all the time.

Their children don't lend a hand.

Just yesterday there was

a terrible fight.

The father killed the son,

or the other way around.

So to waste time with hassles,

I'd rather not have any.

I ain't never been angry.

Don't know what it feels like.

Some folks fuss and feud,

but not me.

Any regrets?

No, I never curse my luck.

This old man over yonder

used to say

that good and evil

go hand in hand.

Good and evil

keep each other company.

When a man does evil,

goodness is close by.

That's what he used to say.

Manuel Vicente.

I believe it.

- Have any saints in your house?

- Yes, I do.

There's one right there,

and others inside, 'cause

the silverfish ate some others.

But do you worship St. Francis?

No, I have no patron saint.

I believe in them all.

But as Father Levi says:

"The Earth shall have only

what Heaven decrees."

Zeca Amador, the one

you visited, tells a story,

that a man was falling

out of a tree

and made a vow to St. Francis,

and he fell onto a St. Francis,

who asked:

"St. Francis of the Wounds?

or St. Francis of Assisi?"

So he replied:

"St. Francis of the Wounds."

But the one who spoke to him

was St. Francis of Assisi,

who let him drop,

and he died from the fall.

What about her?

Can she come talk to us?

Of course. Antonia!

What is it?

This man wants to speak

with you.

- She's really getting gussied up!

- No, I don't know.

You still getting fixed up.

I'm coming!

Take your time already.

Be ready by tomorrow.

Be patient, I'm coming.

You hollered for me to come,

and here I am!

Sit here beside him.

You were there for 10 minutes.

So we were talking.

You changed dresses, right?

He's asking you a question!

I came here on an outing

with a sister-in-law of mine,

and here I stayed.

Stayed with him.

How many months has it been?

When was it?

On the first?

You got here

on the first of May.

He came after me.

He came after you?

Yeah. This stuck-up goat!

And you?

He came after you,

and what did you do?

Twas him who come after me.

I never come after him.

Twas him who come after me.

- And you?

- So, I wanted it.

I fell in love with him.

They showed me a lot of widowers,

but I never fell in love with a one.

I just fell in love with him.

And you were a widow, too,

weren't you?

Yes, I was.

Do you like your donkey?

I sure do, it's a good little

donkey to ride on.

I come home, let him loose.

and he never runs off.

Sometimes I get drunk,

and he brings me home.

Nobody's got to lead him

by the reins.

You're drunk, and you

trust your donkey?

That's right

And folks think:

"Brother, didn't that donkey

throw you? Brought you home?"

When he gets older,

do you intend to keep him?

I'll let him die out in the field.

Can't sell an old donkey.

But you don't plan

to abandon him, do you?

No, I've never abandoned

an animal.

When it's too old to ride,

I let it die out in the field.

By the grace of God,

I had plenty of proposals

for courting.

Plenty of offers.

All the young fellers wanted

to shoot the breeze with me.

They shot the breeze, but I

never gave them the time of day.

And when did you

meet your husband?

I was engaged to one feller,

and another showed up,

and we started to chat,

so I called off the wedding

and married the other.

I liked the other one better.

You broke it off with one

and married the other?

- Was it worth it?

- Was it ever! He was poor,

but he was kind to me.

Never thrashed me,

we never quarreled.

We were very close,

very happily married.

Through thick and thin.

I really missed him

after he died.

How did you happen

to become a midwife?

A woman went into labor,

and they called me.

I never intended it.

But they called me,

so I came.

When I got there,

the baby was born right away.

I cleaned it and wrapped it,

like I'd done for my own.

Did you make good money

as a midwife?

Whatever they could pay.

I didn't have a set price.

Some paid well.

They made it worth the while.

And others were dirt poor,

not even a piece of cloth

to wrap the baby.

What was I to do?

God paid me as He saw fit.

'Cause there were a lot.

Often times

the mother didn't even have

a shred of cloth

to wrap the little critter.

No swaddling clothes, nothing.

Too poor.

If somebody knocks and says,

"It's time, now."

You think I won't go?

Of course I will!

God lights my way,

and there I go.

Just last year

I went to deliver one.

Last year they were about

to take a woman to the hospital.

But it was too late

to make it into town.

So they came a-calling,

and I rushed to help.

But I'm happy,

cause I fought the good fight,

and won.

No more hassles with the children.

They're all married off.

I live the good life,

with my grandkids close by.

When I take a notion to sit back,

here I sit in my chair.

Or I lie down with my head

on a pillow, on the brick floor.

I lie down for a nap,

sound asleep.

Right on the floor.

Then I get up,

make myself some coffee,

and go fix my supper.

Night comes,

I lie down and fall asleep.

There's a TV set.

I watch the soap opera.

- You like soap operas?

- Sure do.

My mind wanders when

the TV's turned on.

Are you afraid of dying,

or don't you think about it?

I ain't afraid of dying.

No, sir.

The day will come

when God calls.

When Jesus calls,

when my time has come,

I'll be ready.

If I go see the doctor,

and he says:

"Your time's up,

you're going to die tomorrow."

I won't worry.

I'll pray to God

and wait for death to come.

Anybody home?

Rosa, see if he'll come

to the door, okay?

Afternoon.

- Bless me.

- God bless you.

Let's go in, okay?

How are you?

Have a seat, right over here.

What should I do?

Can you tell me?

She knows.

Explain it to him.

These folks are from Rio de Janeiro.

He's Mr. Coutinho.

This is Jacques,

and that's Bruno.

And there are some girls

and some fellows.

This is Cris, who's part of the crew.

And they make movies.

It's just an ordinary

everyday conversation.

I'm in no shape.

I've been ailing.

I can't talk too long.

But can't you just

have a chat with us?

No. These things

are beyond me.

I been ailing, so I can't, no.

You still ailing?

That's right, I'm ailing,

so I can't.

It's got to be something fancy,

you know,

got to be something refined,

something like that,

and my head's aching,

it's splitting. So I can't.

I'm in no shape

to answer this gentleman.

I mean, on his level.

It's not the same level,

this movie business.

Filming pictures is for

movie-makers.

Y'all are movie-makers,

ain't you?

Pretty much,

we work with cinema.

Can we have a chat? You sit there,

you don't have to do anything.

What do I say?

Tell us about your childhood,

farming, these things.

Work, family life.

Religion, everything.

Did your parents live

in this house, too?

- Sure did.

- How old is this place?

I think it goes way back

to the discovery of Brazil.

When Papa bought the place,

the house

was already built. He bought it

before he got married.

Added a couple of rooms,

more walls.

Big family?

We were 5 brothers and sisters,

but now we're only 3.

Him and 2 sisters. One sister

and a brother have already died.

- Did you ever get married?

- No, all 3 of us are single.

Did you ever want to marry?

No, no! My time

has passed, 'cause...

I was engaged once,

but it didn't work out.

Finished.

But thank God,

I only miss Ma and Pa,

because without your folks,

you know,

that's life.

- Always lived the 3 of you together?

- Always.

- Never argue?

- Never.

I even studied Literature,

and finished Law School.

I even set up an office,

but it didn't work out.

Your brother was an alderman?

He was Deputy Mayor.

Papa was an alderman.

And my uncle was Mayor.

So, ma'am,

you like to embroider, sew?

I embroider, sew, knit, paint.

What do you paint, portraits?

I paint fabric.

Do you paint as a pastime,

because you enjoy it?

Because I enjoy it,

as a pastime, for myself,

but there's no future in it

for making money here.

Because folks think

you whip it up in just a day,

and when you charge

your price, they balk.

Care to show us

some of you work?

- There's some embroidering.

- Can you show us?

This here.

She's my godmother.

- Aren't you my godmother?

- Sure am.

- Are you fond of me?

- Sure am.

When you see someone beautiful,

what do you say?

I don't know.

- "So beautiful, looks like me."

- Yes, she says, so beautiful.

- Didn't your sister come?

- No she didn't.

But don't you know

where she is?

She's over at Mrs. Aurélia's.

When are you leaving?

You staying for a while?

We're going to stay

almost two weeks.

Is Dedé alright?

Yes, he's at home.

They're both there,

Granny Godmother and Dedé.

Can she see alright?

Her eyesight's bad,

but she can still see.

- Do you miss Dedé?

- Yes, and a lot of folks.

- You do?

- She misses Dedé.

Because she knows him better?

Why?

Why? She's known Dedé

since they grew up together.

When you, Granny, and

Dedé were little, how was it?

- Was it good, Godmother?

- Sure was.

What did you used to do?

- What did she say?

- She always visited her house.

Does Granny Zefinha still sew?

Not any more.

- And do you sew?

- No, she doesn't sew anymore.

Don't you sew?

I still sew now and again,

but it's hard.

Beautiful sewing machine,

perfect, brand spanking new.

Did you ever published this?

Never.

Never published it.

This here trophy

is from the first

poetry festival

in São João do Rio do Peixe,

back in 1970-something.

I won first prize.

So I got this trophy.

"Women" is the title

of this sonnet.

They are the flowers

in the garden of life

Old, young,

blonde, brunette,

Married, widow, fiancée,

or harlot.

To my eyes,

all are fair damsels.

An elderly woman is like

a withered flower

The young, like red roses,

always fresh,

Blossoming

with the crimson dawn,

Fragrant as Easter lilies.

Woman, sunshine, joy.

Girl, maiden, or elderly.

I shall praise her

whoever she may be

May they remember me

on the day of my death,

and lay a wreathe

on my cold tomb

with carnations, roses,

and forget-me-nots.

Author: José Amador Ribeiro Dias.

Araçás, São João do Rio do Peixe.

Paraíba State, Brazil.

How did you fall in love

and marry?

I started seeing him in 1933 and

married on December 20, 1934.

Was marriage good?

Yes, praise the Divine Creator.

I only had peace and happiness

in my life

while he was alive, 'cause

he was a hard worker.

He took work seriously,

whatever the job was.

Did he treat you nice?

- Pardon me?

- Was he nice to you?

Yes, thank the Lord!

Thank the Lord!

He was never mean to me

not in the slightest,

or me to him.

How many children?

Four.

My firstborn, a boy,

died teething his fangs.

He was a strapping boy.

Folks all marveled

at how healthy he was.

All stout and ruddy,

a regular little man.

What do you mean,

"teething his fangs"?

I don't follow you.

You said "teething his fangs".

What's that?

When his fangs came,

'cause when baby teeth come,

the fangs come last.

The fangs are deathly

for young 'uns.

Yes, sir.

When his fangs came in,

he came down with a fever,

and no medicine

could make it go away.

He was so sickly,

he wouldn't even nurse

and he died full-bodied.

Darn near went crazy.

Darn near went crazy.

I frittered the day away,

wandering around the yard,

sitting under an old jujube tree.

Didn't even want to

come into the house.

After he died, Jesus granted me

three daughters.

After your husband died,

did you consider remarrying?

I had plenty of offers,

but I turned them all down.

My heart locked up tight

till Judgment Day.

I had plenty of offers,

but I turned them all down.

God deliver me!

One day a dimwit

showed up at my doorstep.

I was out in the yard.

- "Top of the morning, Dôrinha!"

- "Good morning."

Lordy, it takes all kinds

to make a world.

What a featherbrain!

So I left the yard,

went inside, and he

tagged after me, sat down:

"I came here, Dôrinha,

to ask for your hand in marriage."

"You what, buster?

Not on your life!"

He said, "Do you think

if I marry you

I'm going to mistreat your daughters?

That I'll thrash them, or force

them to toil in the fields?"

I'm not marrying you,

or anybody else.

On the subject of marriage,

I've tied up my bun.

Until Judgment Day."

Was it hard raising your children

after you lost your husband?

I worked the fields myself.

Had no father to look after me.

My mother was too old,

and a widow herself.

My brothers were all either

married or had already died.

No one to look after me,

no man, no brother,

no father, no husband.

But I never faltered,

to die of hunger, me or

my daughters. Praise the Lord.

I took to the fields to work.

With my youngest daughter

slung on my back,

and a big washbasin

I used to carry clothing

to wash down by the river,

with a cooking pot, plates,

and a coffee can.

All day long in the fields,

working, with my daughters

under a shade tree,

under a jujube tree, while I

hoed around in a circle,

all around the jujube tree,

while the food cooked on the fire.

When noon came,

we ate, and I went back to hoeing,

and the girls stayed under the tree.

When I had hoed

a big enough circle

I moved to another tree.

That's how I raised them.

They weren't raised by the good

graces of any boss, lord, or master.

I raised them

as I was raised.

Have I ever left them

to fend for themselves?

- Mrs. Vermelha?

- Sir?

Today we visited aunt Dôra,

a relative of yours.

Godmother Dôra! My aunt!

My Mama's sister.

My aunt, and my Mama's sister.

You get along with her?

Holy Mary!

She's my favorite aunt!

Aunt and god-sister.

And godmother.

She's a big part of me.

She's old, isn't she?

Haven't seen godmother Dôra

for ages!

I was brought up

working in the fields.

I never plowed

or pulled up stumps.

But I harvested beans,

picked cotton.

Holy Mary!

It was wonderful.

I filled my pipe

with tobacco

and went out to hoe.

I can never get to sleep.

Ever since I was single,

I can't sleep.

And now it's even worse.

Rooster crows in the night,

or before sunup,

and there I sit, wide awake.

When I'm tired of sitting,

I lie in my hammock,

drinking coffee and smoking.

Some nights before I fall asleep

it's almost sunup.

How do you manage

with your meals?

It's the young 'uns

who bring me food.

Lordy, if I didn't have

those two sons,

Rosa, I'd darn well

be dead by now.

Didn't you want them to marry?

No, I'd rather they

didn't get married.

As long as I live, I want them

right here beside me.

If a young girl came around

to stay with you

and help you with the housework,

would you like that?

Dearie, like folks used to say,

better alone than in bad company.

- Mr. Nato.

- Sir?

What's this about finding water?

Water's like this.

A man goes to school

and learns many things.

But farm-learning,

you learn on the land, follow?

You bide your time,

and watch,

pick up the knack,

and learn the way of the land.

Divining for water is like this.

When there's water nearby,

a bird tells you, or a tree.

At night,

you're walking nearby,

on a hill, in a valley,

and you can feel the water.

If you're sharp, and pay attention,

bide your time, you dig a well.

An artesian well, and watch

for the springs.

- Just anybody? Can you feel it?

- I sure can.

What is it, the scent?

No, it's a wave, I feel the

vibration, that atmosphere rising.

You're either well-read

or well-bred.

- Are you well-bred?

- Thank the Lord!

- And well-read, too?

- No.

The other day I was signing

a check at the bank.

When I got married, I had to put

my thumbprint on the license.

It's embarrassing, your print

instead of your signature.

It's not like signing

an important piece of paper.

So I decided it was time

to learn to read and write, a little.

When did you get married?

1968, August the 6th.

Did you marry straight away?

No, I got married

before the priest

announced the wedding

I didn't even want to marry,

'cause I couldn't afford to, I just

wanted to save up some money.

What about her parents?

My Papa sent for me

in the State of Ceará.

Said for me to come home

to get married.

No, I ran off alone, 'cause

I didn't want to get married.

I had plenty of girlfriends,

and couldn't afford to marry.

Instead of marrying, I planned to

save up, to support the house.

- So you ran away?

- I ran away.

- What about her?

- She stayed behind

yelling bloody murder.

Search and seize.

That's how Papa put it.

- Hogtied?

- Hogtied.

My father said:

"If my son fiddles with a girl,

he's got to marry her."

Was married life good?

Yes it was.

We're both alive to this day,

working for

our little nest egg,

which is a fortune for us,

cause we were both dirt poor.

That business of inheriting

wealth is no good.

I'll tell you why.

Want to know?

You get used to not working,

and die poor.

You eat up what you have, thinking

it'll last forever, and it's gone!

Think about it:

to work thinking

you're never going to die,

pray knowing you'll die

and work without having to.

When you work and have to,

you have nothing.

You only have something

if you work without having to.

I know one day I'll die,

but I want to work.

You and your crew are

fending for yourselves, ain't you?

You all know you're doing to die,

you could have stayed put.

"I'm going to die anyway,

so I ain't going anywhere."

Nobody ever thinks

they're going to die,

they just keeping having and

doing, increasing the pile.

Am I right?

If you have 10 head of cattle

you want 10 more to make 20.

- Are you like that?

- Everybody is.

People that work to have things

are like that, everybody is.

I might need a compact car,

but I'll buy a truck if I can.

People want a tractor

to plow their fields.

They want a herd of cattle

and a hired man.

They might think

they won't die, but they will.

It's best to pray,

knowing you're going to die.

But you make more,

and want more.

Exactly, to have

is never enough.

- Can't you rest once in a while?

- No you can't.

And look, to have

is a big source of worry!

To have is a big source of worry.

And if you're greedy it's worse.

'Cause then you forget to pray.

And Satan is lurking

to push you into the caldron.

When you pray...

- Do you pray?

- Sure do.

You're a smart man.

- Are you well off now?

- Yes, thank the Lord!

I have a house in town,

own some land.

Nothing mortgaged,

don't owe nobody nothing.

I've got jewels and stuff.

I eat whatever I please,

dress however I please.

What more could I want?

I wish I wasn't going to die,

but I know I am.

Who's the person

you trust the most?

My Mama!

She fed me

at her breast,

fed me porridge,

changed my diapers,

and all that.

Even to this day

I know my Mama loves me.

- May I ask you something?

- Of course, if I know the answer.

You said the only person you

trust is your mother.

- What about your wife?

- No! My Ma comes first.

Women are women,

but a mother's a mother.

A mother don't cheat on her son.

I've got a son.

Look at this little cutie-pie...

Her mama cheated on my son.

Cheated on my son.

- How so?

- The mother cheated on my boy.

This little girl is

my granddaughter.

Your daughter-in-law

cheated on your son?

She had heaven on Earth.

My son even owns a house

in Brasilia.

What do you mean

by cheating?

Messing around.

Played hanky-panky on him.

That's what I mean

when I say

I only trust Mama!

Do you prefer cigarettes

or your pipe?

Don't smoke much,

just 2 or 3 a day.

- No pipe?

- I smoked a lot,

but gave it up.

No pipe?

I used to smoke a pipe,

but I quit.

Smoked since I was 14.

- Did you work in the fields?

- Yes, I did,

planting, weeding,

picking cotton.

Whatever the job.

I worked like a man.

Even as a young girl?

Young girl, young lady,

and that's how I grew old.

So when I was ready

to quit working,

I was already over 80,

80-some.

- Ever get married?

- No.

I never wanted to marry.

Never wanted a man.

And who do you live with?

With this girl I brought up,

Sebastiana.

My niece and foster daughter.

After Sebastiana got married,

her first 4 babies were premature.

The first three were born alive,

but died right away.

Then one was born

and baptized.

So I made a vow

to Saint Francis.

If they were born

and survived until christening,

they would all be named

Francisco.

She had 18 children.

- They were all named Francisco?

- That's right.

- So they had nicknames?

- Right, they all had nicknames.

I didn't pray for them

to be brought up.

I prayed for them

to reach christening time.

'Cause as folks say,

we never know.

Men go to heaven,

and the babies in darkness.

Every day they pray for

the world to come to an end.

That's what folks say.

The little pagan angels.

That's what they pray for.

And about

these seraphim, angels...

Seraphim are these

little critters that are born

but don't eat anything

from this world.

That's a seraph angel.

- What do you mean?

- Born, die, and never eat.

Neither eat nor drink.

The seraphim, the little ones

that never get to eat.

I don't recollect

who once said,

when they bury a seraph

at the cross...

sometimes you hear

it crying, true?

That's what folks say.

Some say

they cry for 7 days,

7 months, or 7 years.

Folks say they're crying

for someone to baptize them.

That's what folks say.

I never heard one myself.

Near Maria Borges' cross

there's a lot of babes buried.

When the world

came to an end in yesteryear,

it was in a flood.

And Saint Noah...

spent 100 years

in a little boat

while the world

was under water.

They say the next time,

there'll be a huge fire.

The world will come

to an end by fire.

With nobody left.

Don't you believe

in God the Father?

God comes down to Earth

to judge the living and the dead?

The dead are those

that have already died,

and the living are us,

who die on that day.

Is that Judgment Day?

He shall come down to Earth

to judge the living and the dead.

The living are those that die

on that very day.

And the dead are those

who have already died.

But everyone is saved.

- Everyone is saved?

- Everyone is saved, no one is lost.

What about those in hell...?

Folks say everyone is saved,

so no one is lost.

Good morning!

- God bless you.

- Alright, fine?

Alright, fine.

You're hard of hearing.

And she brought something.

I can't hear a thing.

"We're making a movie.

How did you lose your hearing?

How does it feel?"

What can I do?

A fellow can't hear.

But thank God,

although my eyesight is bad,

I can still read a thing or two.

I'm up to date, you know.

I'm happy when a fellow

writes things for me.

So I find out about something,

'cause if folks speak,

I ain't got the faintest notion

what they're talking about.

"Was marriage good?"

Mine was, thank the Lord.

I'm sad today.

It's been just 2 years since

the missus passed away.

"Do you feel very...

Feel very lonely?"

Yes, and it's not good.

I sit out in a chair

here or there.

My daughter leaves me

at around noon,

and comes back after dark.

She goes to her sisters' house

over yonder,

and I spend the afternoon

sitting by myself.

Watching the passersby.

Sometimes I know them,

but don't recognize them.

My eyesight's bad, they walk by,

and I don't know who it is.

They come and go.

I sit here all afternoon

until dark,

she comes home,

fixes supper,

and comes to poke me,

when it's dark, to come for supper.

"Would you like to say

anything else?"

No, I've said a lot.

I don't know much, and anyway,

a man who says everything he knows

makes a fool of himself, don't he?

I liked the conversation.

Let's go...

for lunch.

I've got some medicine

for the mugwumps

For fever, flu,

cough, and all

There's crazy mugwumps

all around

Let's send the mugwumps

to the hospital

With cough syrup and aspirin

Painkillers, alka-seltzer,

and valium

Give 'em tranquilizers

to calm their nerves

The mugwumps

are taking a beating

They got the runs so give 'em

kaopectate and lomotil

But the pain of defeat

is bitter

There is no cure

for such a beating

The mugwumps

will soon be silent!

"Come one, come all!

Come to the rally

this Friday, here in Araçás.

Anísio Dantas

will be here in person

with Nivaldo Amador!"

Give the mugwumps

their medicine!

Aspirin, lomotil,

alka-seltzer

- How old are you?

- 57.

Do you farm your own land,

or rent?

Both, on my own land

and on other people's land.

Was your childhood hard?

It weren't no good for me.

- How so?

- 'Cause it weren't no good.

No time for nothing.

Nothing but work.

Just work?

Work, work,

and more work.

Field work is always

backbreaking.

Nobody to help

with nothing.

All by hand.

Never went to school?

Not for very long.

I had to drop out,

'cause my father

didn't want me in school,

so I could work in the fields.

I was mad. No more school.

Did you marry young?

I was 25.

How was it?

A worry.

Why?

'Cause of sickness,

and troubles.

How long have you

been married?

I got married when

I was 25, and now I'm 57.

How many children

did you have?

The missus?

How many children

did you have?

Why did you say "the missus"?

- 'Cause she had the babies.

- You had nothing to do with it?

I reckon so.

- How many?

- Five.

Do you have a dream in life?

What do you mean by dream?

Good question. Something you

wish for yourself, for your family.

I don't believe in that.

I don't believe in that.

As old as I am, and ever since

I was little,

I prayed faithfully.

Wishing all the time,

praying and asking,

but nothing ever came true.

I said: "It's not coming true?"

So I gave up right then.

I was praying

to grant me at least one wish.

Am I right?

Maybe so, right?

Or maybe not, right?

What did you pray for

that you weren't granted?

The list is long, believe me.

- Not a single wish came true.

- Just a few examples.

Good health, mainly.

Which I don't have.

It's the basis for everything.

Isn't life hard without

good health?

Hot and cold.

A person who's hot and cold.

- Like you?

- Yes, hot and cold, like me.

One minute you're fine,

the next minute you're ailing.

That's what's called

hot and cold.

One minute riled up,

the next minute laid back.

- Are you that way?

- It's true.

Are you hot and cold

right now?

Now I'm calm, here I am, look,

cool as a cucumber.

Neither hot nor cold?

Really cold.

I learned from Thomas.

That's where I learned.

For example, if the world

was the way Thomas made it.

Thomas got one part wrong.

- You mean Saint Thomas?

- Yes, he got one thing wrong.

'Cause he walked with God,

ate with God, and then denied him.

Yes, but he said,

"I only believe in what I see

and touch."

If we were all like that,

there would be no sin.

There would be no evil,

'Cause today's world is full

of lies, ain't it?

I suppose so.

Can you tell me some news

about the world out there?

You know as much as we do.

And who is the world?

- I don't know.

- Ain't it us?

It appears so.

Are you interested

in the world?

Wisdom don't come

only in writing.

Just 'cause it's written.

It's from the mind, it's a gift.

It's genius.

'Cause genius

is a fascinating thing.

If you got no genius,

how do you get by?

Where's the eye's strength, where's

that little clock ticking for you?

It all takes genius.

It's like the blood circulating.

Well, you need genius.

I better stop,

before I get carried away.

Sometimes a man knows,

but doesn't let on that he knows.

That's how I am.

Sometimes folks ask me something.

"Oh, no, I know nothing

about it."

"Can you read?"

"Not a word."

You can't let on

everything you know.

Is it secret?

Everything's secret. We have

many secrets in life, right?

Believe it or not,

I've been to hell,

twice, but in my dreams.

I mean, I wasn't there in person.

If I'd gone in person,

that would be alright, too.

- It would make a better story.

- How was the dream?

The dream was no good,

about me going there.

I walked through tree trunks,

stones, stumps,

and thistles.

When I got there,

the ground was boiling

like hot cement,

but the color of ashes.

The earth came up to my knees,

and in flames.

I didn't stay long.

It was a quick dream.

Didn't you see the devil?

Oh, yes, but only one of them.

- What did he look like?

- Not good-looking at all.

- Did he have horns?

- No, no horns.

He must have been the boss.

The boss, 'cause his horns

had fallen off, from old age.

- Were you there by yourself?

- What?

Were you alone in the fire,

or were there others?

Alone. I only made it

as far as the gate.

But they didn't let me in.

They threw me out.

Who threw you out?

Who threw me out?

All you have to do

is cry out to Our Lady

of the Perpetual Help.

Mr. Chico, have you

enjoyed our conversation?

Yes, I have, 'cause I didn't

even want to say a word.

- "I have nothing to say," right?

- That's how you started, right?

I guess so,

that's how I started.

I reckoned,

if I got started talking,

we'd be talking

into the wee hours.

But let me tell you something.

I tell it like it is. If it never

happened, I don't tell about it.

Take it or leave it,

believe it or not.

It was just like the word

of Saint Thomas.

Seeing is believing, hands-on.

The rest don't matter.

I wish you well.

I'm happy now,

after talking with a wise person.

You did most of the talking.

Covered water well,

with a sandy bottom,

unpolluted water,

sparkling well water.

- Guaranteed?

- Guaranteed, you bet!

- Spring water?

- From a hand-dug well!

- Who discovered it?

- I did.

In 1993, during a drought,

when folks were running to town for

emergency aid, to beg.

'Cause backlanders get used

to handouts.

I hardly ever sit still.

I just hope Jesus

will kill me quick-like,

so I won't be

a burden to anybody.

I'm demanding, restless,

want everything done right away.

- Were you fetching water just now?

- On the spot!

- Were did you go for it?

- Over yonder in my hollow.

You like this, don't you?

This here's salt for the cattle.

This here's salt for the cattle.

These are squash seeds,

to plant.

This is a memento

from my mother,

from a skirt I found in

her old house.

I kept it as a memento,

as if it were gold.

"Mama, this here

is to remember you by."

I kept all of her gold,

her little gold jewelry.

But I'm going to keep this

to remember her by.

Just look at the

candidate's photograph.

- We'll be back in a year.

- You really coming back?

With the film ready.

Will you still be

hale and hearty?

If I don't die,

I'll still be alive,

and I promise you

we'll have a roast lamb.

That's a promise.

- I'll be counting on it.

- You can bet your life.

If I'm still alive. But if I die,

say a rosary for me,

'cause the deceased

deserve a prayer.

- Indoors or outdoors?

- Indoors.

Girl, make some coffee

for these youngsters.

Is there any coffee?

What a beautiful word!

Beautiful words,

coffee and food.

I hate to go visiting where

there's no food or coffee.

- Can you open the door?

- Yes, but listen.

Is this a boinho?

It's a boio!

Made of horn, to light a fire.

There didn't used to be

matches or lighters.

You strike this flint?

Just close the lid

to put it out.

Was it to light fires, too,

or just to smoke?

To smoke and to light fires.

And you still keep it

as a souvenir?

Yes, sir!

As a grand souvenir!

For my grandchildren!

After I die, they can say,

"Look at Grandpa's boinho."

I took it to the bank

with me one day.

They all gathered around!

The bank manager

was eating it up.

Stop everything.

This scene has to go in the film.

Look at Assis.

Okay, okay.

- Thank you.

- Likewise!

Could have left it here

in good hands.

They once left money with me

for safe keeping, to buy a farm,

and three days later the man

came back, and here it was.

I know.

Thank the Lord!

I wish you all great happiness.

We'll miss you.

Miss you.

- We will too.

- But what can we do?

- In a year's time, you hear?

- God willing!

Come have a meal

here in the old man's shack.

God willing!

Great and good happiness

to you, my people.

How are you?

- Washing your feet?

- That's right.

Where's Vicar?

Went to the hills

to check on the cattle.

We could wait

till he gets back.

- Yeah, wait.

- Will he be back before sundown?

Antonia, you think he'll be back

before the sun goes down?

He'll be here any minute.

You got all gussied up.

You like getting gussied up?

I sure do.

And Vicar went to check

on the cattle?

Yeah.

He'll be here any minute.

- Did he go alone?

- By himself.

He's fine now, isn't he?

Yes, thank the Lord,

he's a sweetheart.

What if he's riled up?

I never fight with him.

When he goes out,

does he come back late?

I wait all night long

while he's gone.

I'm not afraid

of being here alone.

Last night he went into town

and came home half-smashed.

He lay down, went back outside,

and I called him back in,

set some food out for him,

he ate and fell asleep.

But he comes home calm

and don't say a word.

He ain't ornery,

he ain't mean to me.

You don't get upset either,

do you?

Not me. I already knew

he likes to drink.

The day I fell in love

with him, he was drunk.

Our Lord gave the donkey

60 years to live.

The donkey said, to get whipped,

30 years was plenty.

The other 30 he left to man.

Who asked?

The donkey or Our Lord?

He gave the donkey 60 years,

but he only wanted 30.

To haul heavy loads,

30 years was enough.

The dog got 30...

but to chew bones

and get kicked, 14 was fine.

He only wanted 14.

The donkey and the dog

gave their extra years to man.

They didn't want

all those years.

Is that why man lives longer?

Right, some men live

to be over a hundred.

So it was a good deal for man?

Not if a man's suffering.

Mr. Leocádio.

How are you?

Where do you live?

Over there?

I'm like the wind,

a dry leaf.

Sorry, kind sir!

How's that? What are you like?

You're like the wind?

I'm just like the wind.

Oh, Jesus in heaven!

Do you believe in God?

Me? It's complicated.

You believe in nature, right?

If you believe in nature,

you believe in God.

I suppose so, basically.

Or do you think believing in God

is an illusion?

No, I don't think so.

I don't know.

It's hard telling such things.

- Is there a God in heaven?

- Come again?

Is there a God in heaven?

It'd be good, but I don't know,

although I'd like to.

Do you believe some people

go to heaven?

I'd like to know that, too.

- What?

- I wish I knew.

Nobody goes

to heaven. Nobody goes

to the Kingdom of God.

- Where do they go?

- The Kingdom of God is...

for Jesus and the Apostles

and a few saints

and nobody else.

But let's suppose

there's a nice place up there

in the Garden of Paradise,

for those who deserve it.

He who gains

eternal life

gets a nice little place,

and he who doesn't

gain eternal life

sleeps forever.

Bones and flesh turn to dust and

earth and ashes, nothing more,

and they only wake up the day

the Son of God calls.

When the Son of God calls,

they wake up?

They only awaken when He calls.

If He never calls, they never awaken.

That's what is called

eternal death.

- Does purgatory exist?

- Certainly does.

Purgatory is anywhere.

Even here?

The prayer talks about

purgatory.

Prayer is almost like poetry.

It's almost like poetry?

- Shall we go into the living room?

- Alright.

Let's talk.

I never thought I'd see

a photo of a pipe.

Mrs. Mariquinha, you never saw

a photo of a pipe?

I've seen them on TV.

Old folks smoking a big pipe.

- But you've never seen yourself?

- No, today's the first time.

- Isn't it beautiful?

- Fine and dandy.

Is the day you receive your

pension check good for you?

It's fine.

You mean...

Is it the moonshine,

the liquor?

Do you fall asleep at 6 AM?

I have my full of moonshine.

I drink a lot.

I buy some groceries,

pay my bills, and come on home.

- So you eat and drink well.

- I don't drink until I get home.

And you eat, too?

Put some meat on to cook, eat,

hang my hammock, and have a nap.

What's wrong with that?

Nothing! It's my own business.

- So you can sleep late?

- You bet!

Do folks like you

here in Araçás?

Not very many.

'Cause I'm cantankerous.

- What do you mean cantankerous?

- I don't like toadying.

Is cantankerous somebody

that hates toadying?

Full of hot air,

like a teakettle.

I don't like to toady anybody.

I like who I like.

But I hate quarreling.

Mrs. Mariquinha?

You know we've come

to say goodbye?

Because Sunday's the last day,

and we're going to Rosa's house.

So today is practically

the next to last day.

- Alright?

- Alright.

I wish you well, and hope

that in a year's time,

if we come back, we'll

find you hale and hearty,

...to show you the film, alright?

- That's fine.

That's right.

We'll meet again,

by the grace of God.

Ain't that right?

- Here he comes.

- Here I am.

Did anything else unusual

come up?

Why?

We came to say goodbye.

- So soon?

- On Sunday.

So we may not see each other again.

I really enjoyed our conversation.

I'm happy you all are filming.

And you all are filming me!

'Cause we enjoyed

your conversation.

- Did you really?

- That's why we came back.

And whenever,

if you liked it,

call on me, and I'll be ready

for another conversation,

to say the same thing again.

That's great. A year from now,

when the film is ready.

- A year from now?

- We'll be back.

I can't guarantee

I'll still be alive.

- Why not?

- 'Cause.

- Why not?

- 'Cause I can feel it.

- Because of your health?

- That's right.

Have faith and

take care of yourself.

Faith?

If it depended on faith, I'd be

on my way to heaven by now.

Is this angle better

for talking?

- Why do you say that?

- 'Cause I change.

You practiced a change,

didn't you?

- Oh, yes.

- You could be a movie actor.

Not if I've never worked

in the movies, what for?

That's what you say.

No, but why did I change?

'Cause I'm tired.

And does changing

help you rest?

It'll make me either

handsome or ugly.

Did you have one good angle,

and now it's another?

That's right.

Hard as you try to catch me

you never do,

even when I always stick

to the same line?

- Why is that?

- I can tell you.

You're the smart one.

- How so?

- 'Cause you are.

Why?

If I were smart

I'd be going around

filming and talking

to folks, right?

Am I wrong?

No, but I came to speak to you

twice, because you're smart, too.

I know. Do you think

I'm smart?

- Yes, I do.

- How so?

Just 'cause I'm

on film like this,

with these fellows.

Even without filming,

if I talked to you,

I'd see you have

some interesting ideas.

Too bad, right?

And I didn't tell

everything I know.

I just got started.

But you got the message.

- Did I?

- You got it.

Who came here first, wasn't it you?

There you have it.

But it's good to talk

with a smart fellow.

He just stands there...

He's more than a detective,

announcer, wise man, scientist,

and you're all of that.

But everything here is wisdom.

It's all intelligence.

So you found this old hillbilly,

talking about all kinds of things.

But I don't know if I know.

I think I know, but do I?

Good question, right?

The certainty is gone, right?

No, certainty

is like I said.

See it with you eyes

and touch it with your hands.

And here I can see it, but I can't

touch it, 'cause I don't want to touch.

You can touch it.

It's not God.

Someone needs to stop Clearway Law.

Public shouldn't leave reviews for lawyers.