Death Inhabits at Night (2020) - full transcript

Based on Bukowski's writings, this portrait of a penniless writer and the women in his life is drenched in alcohol and cigarette smoke. A cautious search for soulmates in a world full of self-destruction.

This fish being good,
it will pay off for this shitty wine.

May I?

- What did you think?
- It was great.

A little sour... Pretty good.

- What about the wine?
- Well, have a taste!

- Is this one mine?
- Yes, it is.

So what?

Did those grapes came
right out of an ass?

- Whose ass?
- Yours.

Not mine!

- What kind of wine is this?
- The one we could afford.



What a shitty wine!

Go ahead.

- When are you going to get a job?
- Ligia...

...for how long haven't you
praised my thighs?

They were thicker once.

But they are still good enough.

I think they should...

- ...walk you around to get some job...
- Say what, babe?

They are the nicest male thighs
ever seen.

They won 3 contests at downtown.

- What contests?
- Nice thighs contests!

Haven't you heard?
My thighs are a gift from God!

Ligia, I know I'm a loser,
but my legs are something!

And they are all yours.



Both of them.

What else could I ask for, right babe?

- Do you have cigarettes?
- I ran out.

Let's eat.

Are you kidding me?

I feel like puking...

Come, let's finish drinking the wine.

He looks so young.

Gosh, what are we going to do?

It could be an accident.

Ligia...

Ligia!

Come here.

Know now who kicked the bucket:

Elias de Souza Nascimento, from Varzea
20, single,

known as the flea market square poet
didn't want to live anymore

he jumped from the third floor
of Mare Building

to find death yesterday night.

It is the third person
to jump from Mare this year.

And attention...

OK, thank you.

Cachaça, please.

Hidden.

- Is it really there?
- Yeaaah...

Lit up!

In a while.

I only brought this one.

Liar!

Oh, hi, baby...

These are Marta and Jane...

They are coworkers from the
insurance agency where I worked.

How are you, Marta and Jane?

It's been long since
we last met, my love.

- Really?
- Really.

Tell you what, Jane also quit.

She got her first UI Payment
today.

We are celebrating.

Very good, Jane.

I am Jane.

Congrats, Jane.

We first met at the agency,

when Raul went to pick up insurance
his dad left him 4 years ago.

Well, I will...

if you excuse me,
I will wash myself, OK?

Yeah, right...

No...

Oh, love...

Do you know how to...?

Wow, love...

Wow, Ligia...

What are you drinking?

They brought a fine wine
and vodka.

I don't drink vodka for a while.
I'll take some.

- Ligia, pour some for me.
- Yes, love.

Ligia spoke highly of you, Raul.

She's everything to me.

What do you do, Raul?

Nothing at the moment.

Today I spent the whole day
at Sao Jose Market.

But there wasn't anything slightly...
you know?

Didn't you bring anything for dinner?

I'm sorry, I had no means.

I will owe you that one,
forgive me.

I will owe you that, love.

We brought you the wine and the vodka.
Now you could come up with dinner.

I was thinking...

down there at the square...

...there are some ducks, right?

You are joking, right?

I think it's a good idea.

But those ducks aren't supposed
to be eaten.

These ducks are there to
embellish the square, you know?

And not to worry even with death.

Nobody is going to miss just one.

- Only one.
- Just one...

Well...

It's just like chicken:
chop its head off and cook it!

It's going to be delicious
there's even that dish...

- Duck rice.
- Her favorite!

Yeah, but we don't even
have the rice.

You guys are drunk as skunks.

Drunk as skunks.

Marta cooks, Jane eats, I eat...

and you catch the duck.

I'm getting no fucking duck

because I'm not gonna hunt
ducks at squares.

I'm hungry, Raul...

- We are too, right, Jane?
- My mouth is watering.

- I'm not gonna...
- You're being rude with the visitors.

I'm not catching anything,
pour me more vodka.

RAUUUUL!

RAUL! RAUL! RAUL!

LOVE, YOU CAUGHT A DUCK!

We're now gonna have
to eat the duck.

Good morning, princess.

What's this?

They slipped it under our door.

It's an eviction notice, Raul.

The landlord is warning that
we must go until Sunday.

Who does she think she is
to evict us like this?

What's this smell?
Go straight to the shower!

We haven't paid the rent
for five months, Raul.

And she says she got
new plans for the building.

Her plans are to fuck us.

Ligia...

you got me going
with this fresh smell.

Let us go back to the room, now.

I'm tired of your jokes.

They are destroying our
relationship day-by-day, Raul.

And we are still
with empty stomachs.

C'mon, don't we have pasta here?
And a duck?

Where's the stinky one?

The pasta spoiled in the pan.

And the duck vanished
with the girls.

I don't know what I was thinking
to invite them over.

Amidst all this misery.

I doubt that you think
I'm not funny anymore.

Stay back with that smell.

I will split it in half.

To remove its viscera and gills.

- I got it.
- Got it? It's that simple.

- Love...
- Ligia!

I'm at the kitchen.

What are you doing?

I'm cooking a shrimp stew.

But it's not a tiny shrimp.

It's big, gray, you know?
Look.

There are over 20 like this one
in the pot.

Where did you get money
to buy shrimp?

I got a job.

It's a filthy one, but it's something.

Then I was dirty, smelly...

So I rushed to take a shower,
to smell good when you arrived.

Raul, you get me speechless
like that.

Tasty...

This is a night of good news.

I got a room

at a friend's husband's
boarding house.

We can stay there for now.

She said she was gonna book
my name under room 12.

This is perfect, Ligia.

Perfect.

Here...

have a taste.

We're safe, Raul.

- Smells good.
- I know, I took a shower to wait for you.

- Not you, the shrimp.
- Oh, OK.

So come here and taste it.

- This one...
- No, too big.

I know, but I bought all the same size.
There aren't smaller ones.

Taste it.

- It's hot.
- But it's well seasoned, right?

It tastes good, right?

It's good.

Isn't it too hot?

I know that some night,
in some room,

soon my finger will make way
through the clean and soft hair,

songs such as the ones
no radio plays.

All the sadness runs down
in a stream.

- We will taste islands and the sea.
- We will taste islands and the sea.

Fuck...

One would have some future
if it wasn't for this building roof.

Right?

He thought he could fly.

He's probably pissed for not
being stronger than these 16 meters.

Let it go, love.

We are still alive.

How much is the croaker?

- How much?
- It's fourteen.

Can you weigh one for me, please?

- Sliced or whole?
- Whole.

Oooops... sorry about that.

Do you want me to weigh it for you?

- This one.
- OK.

It's 18 bucks.

There's a reservation
under my wife's name.

Hi.

I have a reservation on my wife's name.

Hi. Her name's Ligia. Room 12.

- Room. 12.
- That's right.

12. Room 12 under there.

- Ligia.
- Yeah, Ligia. I'm Raul.

- And you are?
- Raul. I'm Raul.

Could you, please
also give me the keys?

- They left it for you.
- Right.

But there's no reservation
on your name.

See you.

Love...

I don't love you anymore.

I've decided to move on
by myself.

Don't look for me.

Some night, in some room,

we will taste islands
and the sea.

I'll miss you.

Ligia

I think you must go to Calçadas St.

Why is that?

You buy some Christmas lights
and place them around here.

Lilac. It will be awesome.

Yesterday I saw something
like that at MKB Bar.

- Did you go to MKB?
- For a birthday.

- Why didn't you invite me?
- You weren't here.

Next time I want to go.
Invite me.

It's amazing.
I went to the dark room.

I can't believe you.

- Look at that hottie...
- I was loose.

Jorge, can you pour me some rum?

Double.

Double rum.

Hi.

Are you moving out?

Yes, I am.

I just found out that my wife
and I broke up.

Really?

Seems bad.

But that's how things are,
right, Jorge?

What if I told you that an old friend
jumped from the apartment he lived?

Don't say. Which building?

Mare Building, man.

Yeah, I saw, I used to live there.

I watched when the body
dropped by my window.

Jorge...

make another.

Just a sec.

Excuse me.

Hello.

Oh, it's you.

Of course I remember.

Hold on a sec.

Hi.

Hey, eyes off.

I told you it's a secret.

Do you think I want to know
how you do this shit?

It's too sweet for my taste.

But you might want to learn it
to impress some women.

Women love this.

I impress them with my legs.

Get real, man.

Nice... This little shitty colored room
of yours.

What?

Nothing.

- What have you been up to?
- None of your business.

But if you want to know...
I'm doing a gig at Sao Jose Market.

You?

How old are you, love?

What kind of chit-chat is that, girl?

Fuck, I'm half a century.

Listen...

Do you really think I'm hot?

Like I told you:
you're kind of hot.

Not the catwalk type.

I think you're sexy.

Yeah...

You probably say that
to every old man.

I have seen you going out
with an old man.

But I'm not stupid, girl.

Nor have money to give you.

It's a matter of attraction,
I'm not only interested in young guys.

You're too young for me.

Hey...

Come back here.

I was enjoying looking at you.

Your meaningful eyes.

It's late.

May I spend the night here?
At your shitty colored little room?

- What color?
- Shit.

We can fuck tomorrow morning,
what do you say?

Good morning, specific hottie.

Look...

I didn't wake up very chatty today.

There is crackers, bread,
eggs, coffee...

You eat, then you vanish.

Did you know you were the first guy
who was OK not to fuck at night?

Forget about it, girl.

Maybe we don't even need to fuck.

Help me! Help me!

Help! Help me!

GOD!

GOD MADE NOTHING!

GOD...

Hottie...

I came to say "hi".

...made nothing.

Sunglasses!

Brand pants!

They are bastards.

They just want to use me.

They are only into
my goddamn body.

You should already know that.

I know.

But I always hope
for a little attention.

Did you know I was abused
by my father and my brother?

They did what they could
to hurt me.

They pretended to be jealous.

Jerks, just as the guys at the bar.

They are even worse.

I'm sorry for what happened
the other day.

I've rather been by myself, lately.

Don't worry.

Do you hope that
she'll be back some day?

Give me a smoke.

You're going to ruin your lungs.

That's fine. A gypsy told me
I'm going to die young.

Wait a sec.

Mr. Raul!

Comin'.

Drop the mean face, I'm used to it.

Thank you.

For breaking me loose, hottie.

When are you going to be out of trouble
and forget about me?

It wasn't my fault.
I only took a stand, this time.

You open to any guy
who pay something to you.

It's not like that, you're mistaken.

For the record,
I didn't want to hook up tonight.

- Really? I do believe you...
- Yes, it is.

I argued with an asshole who wanted
to make me hook up with him.

How about that?

I argued...
and broke a bottle on him.

- That's not how you treat a lady.
- How crazy...

It could have gone wrong.

It could.

But Jorge lost it
and called the cops.

Jorge?

Is Jorge that waiter
who looks like Madame Satan's son?

Is this the one?

I'm tired of rudeness.

Come here.

We're going to have a drink, right?

I can't. I have a sore throat.

C'mon, just to get sleepy.
It can be wine.

It's hot.

I don't know
how to explain it, hottie,

but I feel as if the pepper goes
straight to my pussy, contracting it.

Sorry for the joke.

See...

If I fuck you someday,

I will spread pepper all over my dick.

You got smarts.

It would be quite an experience.

My mom was beautiful, hottie.

The prettiest on the street.

Every man was attracted to her.

But she fell for my dad.

It was the worst scenario.

I get emotional
every time I talk about her.

Your father is terrible.

And I probably am too.

And you are just a girl.

She began cutting herself.

She made a terrible slash
at her face.

She was admitted at an asylum.

Nowadays she locks herself at home,
she never leaves.

She fears everything.

But her hair is still very pretty.

I was the one who used to cut it.

I'm a natural hairstylist,
did you know?

I cut my own hair.

You can sleep over, if you wish.

Hmmm... Breakfast...

- Delicious!
- That's right...

Smells good.

- It's strong.
- Not like tea, right?

It's strong! I like strong coffee.

Tea is only good in songs.

- Strong and tasty, just like you.
- Strong and tasty, like me.

Oh, I had an idea.

- An amazing idea!
- What is it?

Come here.

We are going to fix that hair
and trim that beard.

- You lost your mind.
- No, I'm serious.

- You're not trimming my beard.
- Look!

I have my tools here,

- I'm not trimming. I like my beard.
- Why?

- Because I let it grow. I want it long.
- No.

- Not doing it, don't even think about it.
- You're gonna be even hotter.

I'm not gonna look hotter,
let me finish the coffee.

Come here.

What do you think?

Looks good, doesn't it?

Looks like shit.

It's fucking bad.

What have you done, girl?

- I think it looks great.
- Holy shit!

Holy sh...

What's up with you?

The coffee is fucking cold.

Why are you always so angry?
Look at me.

You look hot, it looks great,
you're a life younger.

- I look ridiculous, ridiculous.
- No, you don't.

Come here, what have you done
for breakfast today?

No, give me a break.

My back hurts...

Fuck.

- Don't do that
- Go, go, go!

- Swirl, swirl, swirl, and look up.
- I will just a bit.

Look up, to the sky.

C'mon, swirl, now lay on the floor.

- Are you high or not?
- Yeah!

The song. It goes like that:

"I'm so insecure because
the wall is too high".

- Who is Sandra? Sandra is his tower.
- Who is his wife.

And he says: "to take a leap, I grab
to the tower on the top of the hill."

It's beautiful!
Tell me something...

For how long Gilberto Gil was
in the asylum?

My mom told me,
but I don't remember.

Give me the lighter and a smoke.

Friend, can I borrow your cigarette
to light mine?

This is sexual harassment, motherfucker.
Don't you have anything else to do?

Sexual harassment, man?

I'll tell you what...

Fuck you!
Drop dead, son of a bitch!

This is the excerpt you like.

No, no, I like the "tea" excerpt.

"Salete made a 'coffee tea'
which is a weak coffee I like."

"And that week, drinking that weak coffee
became an addiction..."

Good morning.

It was OK, he just needs to have
a strong pulse, which he doesn't.

We attend the client, pick up the piece,
fix things... all at once.

We should have another person
to pick up the pieces.

Someone with a motorbike.

What about you, noob?
What do you do?

Engine, suspension, gearbox...?

I'm a writer.

Writer, huh?

There you go.

- Let's have a drink?
- You can't drink.

Just a shot.

Listen to the sax.

Look there...

- It's weird.
- What's going on?

Look at Jorge.

- What's going on, Jorge?
- Sandra...

Who's Sandra?

Your date. Your friend.

We found her on the floor
right there.

She was already dead.
She cut herself with a razor.

What a tragedy...
Her face is unrecognizable.

She has always had some problems.

Her father and brother are here.
They came to pick up the body.

She will be buried tomorrow.

I'm going to close the bar
for a couple of days, in her memory.

It's better.

Sandra...

There are some books
my grandchildren can't see.

My wife was converted
and wanted to burn them all.

But I didn't let her.

You may open up.
Those are the ones.

Wow, you are fucked up.

Grab a tablet, here.

You did well by keeping those.

Read them to your grandchildren, hidden.
As in a secret club.

What about my wife?
Have you forgot?

She rather read the Bible
and go to the mass.

You know what?

I'm old, tired of being a sinner...
I want my spot in heaven.

You can keep all of those.

Since you are an atheist, and couldn't
care less about eternal life.

What eternal life...

The only visitors we will have
after death will be from maggots.

You can still fuck well,
commit a sin.

Commit it before it's too late.

I thank you for the books.

I have written some.

Over 30 years ago.

Really? Are they good?

I'm asking you because I have
a wild brother-in-law

that is opening an indie publisher
at Caruaru.

He could take a look.

It was a nice chat, but you're going
to start to clean up.

Begin by this shelf.

Throw away the old pieces,
then file the shelf.

This shelf leaning
at this wall full of centerfolds...

Rip it all out and burn them.

I'm going to drink coffee at the curb.

Just keep Betty Faria's '84 poster.

The one where she's at Taioba,
full body shot, hairy.

Maybe I can still pray for her.

What a female... A true one.

Can I really bring my stuff?

Sure, bring it and I'll take it
to my brother-in-law.

Maybe I can still see one
at a bookshop...

...before the maggots feast on me.

Last week the doctor said
that I'm half dead.

Before turning my back
to close the door,

I told him I met a girl named Cassia.

The most energetic girl I've ever met.

Who was dead
at the peak of her youth.

Dead.

Totally dead.

She was like me, and went
to search answers in the darkness.

She twisted her bones and flesh
until the end.

So another body wouldn't appear
and steal from her

the wilderness that keeps love, peace
and freedom

away from becoming institutions.

"Do you think I...

a rasp dog aging 50,

really give a shit
for how long I have left?

Fuck you.

Fuck you.

Death has tried to take me
many times,

but everytime it knocks on my door,
the only thing it says is:

'"Let's have another drink
and fuck all night long, captain."

Open up, captain!

Fuck, I'm going!

For fuck's sake, Tomas...

What do you want, man?

Come over there with me.

She's plain dead, Tomas.

You're not serious.

Must have died short ago.

She's still warm.

I've never saw a corpse this pretty...

I came there and saw her dancing around.
Got turned on.

I went to fetch a drink,
and couldn't see her anymore.

Later, I went for a smoke,
and found her, all alone.

I approached her to ask
how much she charged for a fuck.

She offered me a fix.

She was already craving...

I took her to the car.

I saw when she injected
the last shot.

And then she didn't open
her eyes anymore.

That's when I figured
she could be dead.

May I fetch us some booze
while we decide what to do?

Is it OK for you to be alone with Ines?

Bring smokes.

I'll be back soon, Captain.

Morning, stranger.

Thank you for your kindness

and for protecting me
from your bastard friend.

I made some coffee.

Tasty?

You see, he's not a bad person.

He just thought you're beautiful...

You mustn't be a bad person either,
right, Raul?

Women are so beautiful
and it feels so good to fuck them.

Your coffee is very good.

So, you're alive, kid.

I could swear you were no more.

And talks a lot
for someone who just passed away.

"Alive" is not quite my case.

It's hard to describe.
My body is kind of... resistant...

I still feel the filthiness
from last night under my skin.

It was a rough night.

Listen... Could you make me look better
for my funeral?

Ines, could you give me
the news already?

I woke up cold and pale this morning.
Didn't I?

I don't know, Raul.

What if this night is only mine?

A writer?

Writers think that everything happens
for their own use.

That everyone exists
as supporting players for their stories.

Will you bathe me or not?

These are books I wrote.

They're stuck.
No one cares about them.

I try to pretend they are
somehow valuable, you know?

Just like the horrid cheap wine
I used to drink all my life.

Gladly.

Are these novels?

"Well, the only absence
is that of the others.

The others leave.
I remain.

The others are in a state
of perpetual departure.

They are, by nature,
migrant and elusive.

I am. I do love.

I am, by the other hand, settled,
stationary, at disposal,

in waiting, rooted, suffering,

like a forgotten package
at a dark corner of a station."

So, very deep, you are a romantic,
mourning for a lost love.

- It's just junk...
- Come on, admit it!

This one is deader than you are.

Dead or not, you look like someone
to have a good chat.

Was it also a suicide,
or did you just missed the dosage?

I must have missed the dosage.

But due to another miscalculation,
I also enjoy a good chat.

Very few men took the time
to talk with me.

Men are always in a hurry.

The girl in the poster...?

Slashed her own face with a razor.

She acted like she was fond of me,
and I acted like a tough guy.

I could have said "yes" to her,
and avoided the disgrace.

What do writers and poets seek
at whorehouses?

I, myself, fell for the last one
who got there.

He gave me an "yes".

But soon, things went back to the usual.

Same nightmares, same loneliness...

I realized, after all,
he was just like me.

Like you.

Like the girl in the poster.

No redemption.

Do you know how to braid?

If hearts could think, they surely
would stop, don't you agree?

Just as we bathe our bodies,
we should be able to bathe our souls.

To change lives
like we change clothes.

Not just to save life,
but as we do when we eat or sleep.

Or just for hygiene.

Some hogs could
disgust filthiness itself.

But they stay like this.

They just stand still,
like rabbits in the headlights.

But then, there are the hogs of fate,
like me.

My life is like a club
hitting my own head.

Some people rule the world.
The others ARE the world.

My eyes.

I think I'm losing my sight.

I feel like
I haven't slept in 100 years.

Do you know that saying?

"Don't kill yourself,
there's carnival next year"

It's a pity we're not kids anymore.

Good night, stranger.