Palindrome (2020) - full transcript

- How are we today?

Today is the big day.

Today, we're going to smile, aren't we?

Aren't we?

We stop after three attempts.

One.

Two.

Three.

And again.

Again!

Do it again.



Again, again, again.

Again.
- You'll kill him.

- Again.

Again.

Again.

Again!

Again!

Again, again!

Again, again, again!

- Hell,

Hello?

I'm missing,
search for me on the net.

Anna Retter.

- I don't...
- Listen.



It's important that you listen.

Tonight at 11:01 p.m., I'm gonna die.

Yes, it's sad but I'm gonna die,

and there's nothing that
can be one about that.

You don't know me so you'll get over it.

However, it's important you search me.

- What?

I have to go.

But before I go, I have a question.

- Okay.
- Wouldn't it be great

to know what it was like to die?

I mean like the feeling.

The aftermath, what comes next?

Do we find a way?

Do we meet our maker?

Do we actually even have a maker?

I don't just wanna fade away,

that I'm scared to do.

- Friend?

Friend?

Friend?

- It's Fred.

- What are you looking at?

How do we feel about coffee?

How about that, aye?

How about being a combusted planet?

And you're now just a meteorite

that's about to enter a black hole.

Suck.

You're gone.

What can you see?

Obsolete.

Blackness.

- There's something I'm forgetting to do.

Can you remember?

- Are you ready?

- For the life of me, I,

I can't remember.

- Robbery.

Corner shop.

Four people, money.

We take the money, split it four ways.

Now, I get 40%.

It is my plan after all.

- What's that number?

- Are you ready?

Be real with yourself.

Are you?

- What is it?

It's ambivalent.

Aren't you forgetting...

Something?

- I need to get free.

I'm trapped.

- Then what of it?

What of freedom?

You break off your shackles.

They bind you no more.

You're free!

But then, then what?

- I don't know.

- You don't know.

Well you aren't free then!

Free me, free me!

You want freedom?

- I walk.

I dream.

I want to be.

- The rest of the time,
it's not when you meet,

it's how you meet.

A love story told backwards

always has a happy ending.

Like for example, we met at,

"I was casually uni-cycling when we met."

"Oh, you'll never guess how we met."

"Sybil and I met at."

And so on.

No one ever said, "Well, it was 1:23 p.m."

"On a Tuesday when we met."

Or, "It was 5:46 p.m.
when we met by chance."

Etcetera, etcetera.

Actually, maybe some people do,

but that sounds wrong, no?

- Yeah, I guess.

I guess that's true.

- I'm quite capable of
sitting here all night.

- So am I.

- Hmm, well actually, you have no choice.

Humans are broken into two factions.

Those who are intelligent enough

to identify their limitations,

and those who will die,

continuing to chase
dreams that quite simply,

will never be anything more
than unfulfilled whims.

Where do you think you fit into that?

Definitive separation.

Oh, come now.

I'm sure you have something
to say on this subject.

I think I know.

Can I guess?

- I can't stop you.

- Hmm, that is true.

I'm gonna guess

that you think

that you fit into the dreamers group.

Always dreaming.

Always failing.

But what you don't realise yet,

but you will realise with time,

is that you're like me.

We're destined to be the same.

It is simple natural selection.

That's a theorem I shall never argue with.

Natural selection.

It's got us to where we are.

It has kept us alive.

And you, you are actually
intelligent enough

to know your limitation group.

We can spot our own.

- We're not the same.

And you're wrong.

- I am?

- I continue to dream.

To want the best in all things.

I don't believe in limitations.

Well, I don't wanna put the
cat amongst the pigeons here,

but maybe,

That's because you're crazy.

- I'm not crazy.

I'm not mad.

I can change.

I can be better.

I can be better.

Not crazy, I'm not crazy.

I can be better.

Be better.

- Some people use music to
provide or compliment mood.

Are you sad today?

I'll listen to Bob Dylan.

I'm happy today!

I'll listen to The Supremes.

To use music to fill in the gaps

between when you converse
and consume information.

Now, that's unique.

To use it as a drug.

It may be the most perfect use of the art.

Being the same as everyone
else is not smart.

I mean, in the more
conventional sense of the word,

it is smart, but in a more elevated,

one tiny sense of the word, it is stupid.

No one ever got anywhere
by being the same,

the average, right?

- Yeah, I guess.
- Yeah.

Oh, God, you're such a motormouth.

Sorry.

Don't be sorry, be better!

One day I'll be old,

and you'll remember this
moment when I was young

and beautiful and fiercely opinionated

about things that most
likely don't even matter.

Mary, by the way.

Oh!

Now, that question about
not getting anywhere

by being the average, that
was a jumping off point.

You were supposed to challenge me on that

because some people get very far

by being very average.

- Oh, I see.

- Yeah.
- Wait, so,

talk more.
- No,

no, we don't talk more.

That would infringe on what
I'm bringing to the party here.

Shh.
- Right.

I don't know.

Oh, maybe less gorm.

- Gorm?
- Yeah, the whole

gormless thing you got going on.

- I'm gormless?
- Well, you lack Gorm, so.

- Lack Gorm?

- That helps.

- What?
- Well the repetition

really helps with the
perception that you're gormless.

- Oh, sarcasm.

- Ding, ding, ding, ding!

Read this?

- No.
- Oh.

- But, but, I.

I just got rid of one book.

This is Friend.

This is Leanne.

This is T.

This is me.

We will enter the target individually.

- Why?

- Because when do you ever see four people

enter a corner shop together?

- Right.

- Four guns.

We shall use these.

- Why?
- Because you get more

jail time for using real guns.

- Right.
- Four masks.

- Why?
- Because we don't want

our faces on camera.
- Why?

Well why don't we all have books like him?

Friend, why do you have a book?

- Is it friend or Fred?

- Friend, why do you have a book?

- I, I don't know.

- So, shall we?

- Not yet.

- Now?

Now.

Now?

- Now!

Friend?

Give us every penny in
your safe, good sir.

- Are you 5'11?

I've always thought I was
5'11 but you seem a bit...

Is that a water pistol?

- Forget about him.

Give me all the money in your safe!

Money, now!

All right, we're not playing around.

We are without the slightest doubt

in the world,

the scariest people

you are ever likely to meet.

- All right, this is a fuckin' robbery!

- Um, chaps, uh, I hate to get technical,

but, um, we were robbing this place first.

- Can we go then?
- No!

- Go get that money I told you to get.

- You think that you're
gonna walk out here

with all that money?

- Me?
- Aye.

Hey, friend.

- So.

- So.

- How much is there?

- Plentisome.

- How much is plentisome?

- Enough to go around.

- If you lot fell in a barrel of tits,

you'd come out sucking your own thumbs.

It's not your lucky day.

Now give us the money,

and we'll all on go on with our lives.

- Is she even interested?

- This is a load of bumbaclot!

Can't we just be done with
these sad lads and shoot them?

- Hang on there, young fella.

We are gentlemen.

We handle things gently.

- Well, off the bat,

let's get a few things straight.

No one is going to shoot anyone.

You don't have bullets in your guns,

and we have mere water pistols.

So let's get that out the way.

Uh, secondly, as we
were in the shop first,

I believe we're entitled to a
larger portion of the profits.

- That's a very well made point.

Would you allow me to air
my perspective on things?

- Why, of course, chap.

The metaphorical forum is yours.

Free commonwealth.

Excellent point.

So how should we split this money?

60-40, maybe?

- 70-30.

- 65-35?

- 80-20.

- 70-30 sounds good again.

Astute, fine sir.

William Wallace would be proud!

So, let's get counting, shall we?

- 2,000 pounds, I came all the way

from Cardiff for this?

This is the sum
that you say is plenty?

- Well, you chaps get 1,400 pounds,

we get 600 pounds.

We're all happy!
- Uh, can I go?

- No, no, hang on.

On account of the recent revelation,

that the money, in
fact, is not plentisome,

I think our arrangement's changed.

Uh, I'm cool with five.

Can I go?
- How do you mean?

- Now it's 99-1.

Could I?

- Oh, come on, chaps.

- You're fucking funny.
- 99-1?

- You fucked me.

You're fucking us.
- Did I?

- I'm the one that does the fucking.

- I'm fucking you, am I?
- I don't get fucked,

I fuck.

- Fuck you.
- I've had enough of you.

Okay, this isn't gonna be willy-nilly.

This is the real world, okay?

- Everybody!
- I suggest

you grow a pair of testicles!

- Who the fuck are we?

I will blow you away, okay?

- Back when I loved you,

back when I loved you,

everything mattered.

The delicacy of the universe was projected

onto my every latent thought.

The fragility of time seem to always

tether on the end of breakage.

The closer I hold you,

the further away my doubts seemed.

That fragment in time

when our love burned bright

has left us with a fossil

that will continue to show generations

beyond and behind us,

reminding those
who encounter it of that time.

Well then.

- Hey, hey, you've changed your hair.

- I did?

- Yeah, it's straight now.

It's nice, it's really kinda like...

- You've had a personality transplant.

Yeah, yeah, I guess.

So, what are you reading now?

What's it about?

- Ah, the futility of life.

- Futility...
- Why swim

against the current?

- I totally understand that concept.

- Huh, yeah?

- Yeah, I'm trying to get freedom.

- Is that a question, or...

- A statement.
- Oh, a statement.

Based on?
- Based on my desire

to get freedom.
- I see.

Yeah, read the book.

Yeah, your freedom means nothing.

Did you know we were spawned from fish?

From there, our brains evolved,

took us to land to escape destruction,

from there, our brains evolved
us into various mammals

to escape destruction once again,

and now we're,

well, we're this.

Yay, evolution, right?

Right.

I'm, I'm gonna read this.

I think.

- Did you read the last one?

- Kinda.

- Is that a no?

- Uh, I...
- Ooh, it is a no.

Why not?

I ponder.

Maybe it's because you already
think you're fully-formed.

No more space to grow and develop.

- Hey, no, I just know what I want.

- Freedom.

- Exactly.

- Yeah, I need a new book to read.

- But, but.

- Hey, aren't you forgetting something?

- I am?

- I believe so.

It's 7:00 p.m.

Only four hours left.

I can't remember.

You were laughing before.

- I'm always laughing.

- You won't be laughing when
I reach the light, old man.

- Wait, you're following the light?

- Yes.
- Why on earth

would you want to follow the light?

- To escape!

Like you're gonna do when you die

because you're old.

- In all forms of literature
and religious text,

the light represents the end, the death.

Do you want the death?

- No.

Stop it.

- What?

- Stop looking at me with your old eyes.

- Why?

- You're judging me.

- I don't know who you are.

I can't judge you.

- Exactly, and you never will do

because you're old and
you're gonna die soon.

What the hell are you laughing at?

I'm not your damn courtyard jester.

Careful laughing so hard,

you might have a heart attack and die.

- How exciting!

I might come back as a rich man.

- Maybe I need to be someone else.

Maybe then I'll be free.

Maybe, right?

Maybe I'm too inflexible.

Maybe if I just stop fighting

and let it all wash over me.

Identify my limitations.

Stop chasing dreams,
become the inevitable.

My limitations.

Know my limitations, be a slave to them.

Kill your dreams.

Start again.

- Are you finished?

But is the painting finished?

Then you aren't finished.

And even if you never finish it,

I'll still love it.

Because it's you.

- Mary.

- Where's my book?

- Uh.

- You didn't read it, did you?

I knew it, useless.

- No, well, I made a decision.

- Ooh, if we're driven
by the subconscious,

are we ever fully making decisions?

- Yes.

- You say that so assuredly,

leaving me to belief
that your subconscious

has already decided that you do not wish

to be pigeonholed or have no freewill.

- No, not at all.

- No?
- No, that's not true.

- All right, when then tell
me about this decision.

- I'm not sure it's relevant anymore.

- Why, because I dare
challenge your freewill?

- Yes.

- Then subconsciously,
you've already decided

the conclusion to this conversation.

- Yeah, I've decided I'm
gonna win this debate.

- Hah!

You've already won.

- How?

- A while back, I made the subconscious,

and then later, the conscious decision

to rid myself of possessions, materials,

and all other such things,

rendering myself fully non-committed

in obtaining anything at all expense.

- Even life?

- Well especially life.

Therefore, to concede
defeat to your weak argument

means nothing to me.

- I need to save Anna.

- Who?

- Do you have a pen?

Ah.

Huh, doo-doo-doo-doo, hi!

- It's a telephone number.

I just need the last four digits.

- Defacing classic literature,
that is a huge sin.

- I'm a sinner.
- Uh!

Oh, what possessions will you let go of?

- None.

We're all different, right?

We all choose different paths.

- Maybe you're starting
to finally get this.

Beep!

- What, what?

No, no, no, no, no.

I'm not crazy.

I'm not crazy.

I'm not crazy.
- So, friend.

What's our conundrum here?

- What you are

is beyond science.

Your sins.

All your sins form an impenetrable wall

that prohibits confusion.

I am confused here.

- What?

- It's Fred.

- What?

- You keep calling me friend.

It's Fred, not friend.

- You're a meteorite that's about

to enter a black hole.

What can you see?

Pure darkness?

Do you become a new star?

Maybe a new planet.

- It doesn't matter.

- What?

- I am a slave.

- But you're not.

I am.

- Maybe I was wrong.

You are.

- Let's start off fresh.

Wash away everything, hmm?

- It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter.

- Of course it matters.

Everything matters.

Every single thing, a singular atom.

That doesn't matter?

Be real with yourself!

Wait, are you a nihilist?

- Maybe.

- What kind of person
claims to be a nihilist?

What kind of person
believes in exactly nothing?

Not a person you can trust.

That's for certain.

- Look, it's almost 11 o'clock.

I just need the last four numbers.

We can still save Anna.

- You're ungrateful.

I took you in, I helped ya.

- I've...
- Most people

would be happy to have
someone like me in their life,

but not you.
- I just...

- You're selfish.

You don't listen.
- I...

- All right, everything
revolves around you.

I called you friend.
- It's Fred.

- And all you ever want is more and more!

What about my needs, aye?

What about what I want?

- What do you want?

- What do I want?

Huh.

That made me so happy.

Nobody ever asks me that.

What I want is, one,

you to answer my metaphysical conundrum.

And two, for us to spend
2,000 pounds together

like a couple of real friends.

- 2,000?

- What?

- That's it.

That's the last four digits.

Oh, I see.

Back to you again, is it?

When will you ever learn?

When will you ever get
out of your own head?

But we all live in our own heads.

Right?

Our own heads.

Maybe you are mad.

We live collectively as one.

An inverted, polyamorous society.

We take and they take.

Perfect fluidity

of the left-hand and the right-hand.

Do you think we rob for joy?

Do you think we take for money?

No, Fred.

No!

This is about the flow.

Natural order.

Balance.

Communion.

Space.

Time.

A rhyme.

Reason.

A perfect communist allegory.

They flood in,

others flood in.

What once was sacred

Is now tarnished.

So we tarnish back.

We strive.

We rise up!

We sit down.

Build the barriers.

Keep them out!

Capitalism flourishes

in a space where there is control.

The perfect system.

With a line discourse.

Queue here, stand behind the yellow line.

That's what this country was built on.

Formation, discipline.

Take a country by force,

but pat them on the back after,

and say, "There, there."

"Now things will be better."

"Now you're part of something."

"Now you're part of us."

"And we're normal."

"And we're correct."

"And we're the only way."

Just like that previously combusted planet

that's now a meteorite
entering a black hole.

Huh, now you're part of the commonwealth!

A commonwealth.

A place where your wealth

and our wealth

is common.

Take by guns,

control by commonality.

Capitalism flourishes in a space

where there is perfect control.

Order!

No chaos.

The perception of symmetry and fluidity.

What you have, I also have.

And what better way to bring about order

than communism?

So, my friend,

we take, they take.

We take,

they take.

- That's not right.

Fluidity,

fluidity is freedom.

- Wrong!

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Why don't you ever listen?

- I can tell you about that black hole.

- Ah, too late.

You want to live in your own world.

You can die there too.

- No, no, wait, wait, wait!

Wait, wait!

- I said, "Interesting piece, huh?"

I hear the artist is
notoriously difficult.

- Really?

- Those are the rumors, yeah.

- I never trust rumors.

Everyone's wearing the
emperor's new clothes

until they become the emperor.

- Is she around?

- Who?

- The creator of this piece.

- I hear she's in the lobby.

She will accept nothing but high-praise.

- That's vile.
- Disgraceful.

- So, can I have your autograph?

- Sure, why not?

You know, most people want selfies,

but you want an autograph.

That's fine.

Some of us are digital,
some of the less developed

of us are not.

- Wow, I get what they mean
by notoriously difficult.

- Talia, do you think most people

would still like my work if I was Indian?

- Indian?

What do you mean?
- I mean not white,

middle class.

- Ah, I gather that if you were Indian

you'd be more celebrated.

You'd have a niche, at least.
- You're not getting

the point, I mean, those
people, that crowd specifically.

- Does it really matter?

- I guess not.

Well don't forget.

To buy rizz, if you want.

Anna.

- You guess not?

- Yeah, I guess not.

- Although, I was
thinking, so maybe it does.

- Typical artist, never satisfied.

- I am satisfied.

Okay, maybe I'm not.

I seek perfection, shoot me.

In the head.

- No, baby, you think universal adulation.

- Who doesn't?

- I don't.

- Well, maybe if you weren't
in poofty development

or whatever it is you do,

you'd care more.

- Unbelievable.

You've known me for six months,

now you don't know what I do?

- I don't,

I don't care what you do.

- I see, but it does make a difference.

- Okay, I see.

Also, what do you mean by more celebrated?

- What?

- You said I'd be more celebrated.

- So?
- So,

I'm not celebrated?

Can we stop walking and get a cab?

- No, I didn't say that,

but if you want me to, I can.

- It's just a strange thing to say is all.

- Oh, please, let's not.
- What?

- Not tonight, okay?

We are not getting a car, walking is good.

- Oh, fine.

I'm a slave to my art!

- You're a slave?
- Yes, to my art.

- My God, you're so fucking white.

She's a fucking slave.

- To my art, yes.

I'm a slave!

I'm a slave, I'm a slave.

I am the product of slavery.

I don't know her.

Are you sure we can't get a cab?

- You know, I think we
should buy the good shit.

Tonight was a success.

Good shit we buy for a success.

- Maybe I should die.

- I'm not even going to entertain that.

- It's true.

It's the 27 Club.

All great famous people die at 27.

- You have Hendrix, Cobain.
- I know.

So your serious?
- Winehouse, Tupac.

- I heard you.
- Tupac.

- I don't like Tupac.

I've never had this type.

Actually, looks great.

- Exactly, I don't know
why you haven't had it yet.

You know why?

It's 'cause you're country's undeserved.

If you could choose one way to die,

what would you choose?

- Drowning, fire, guns?
- I'd go into a gun shop.

- I would choose drowning.

I heard it's nice.

- How would anyone alive even know?

- What method would you choose?

- I choose to change the subject.

- That's fine, we'll
circle back to it later.

- Oh, we'll circle around to it, maybe.

You're still coming out tonight, right?

- Oh, do I have to?

I don't think so.

The story of Lazarus

goes as so.

So there's this sick dude called Lazarus.

And he's on his deathbed.

Basically, he's a goner.

And his two sisters go to Jesus,

and they say, "Jesus, our
brother's in a spot of bother."

"He's dying, help."

Jesus says, "Don't worry about it."

"This sickness isn't gonna
end in this fellow's death."

Anyway, Lazarus pops his cork, as you do.

And they bury him.

And there he is,

buried for four whole days.

Then one of his sisters goes to Jesus,

she says, "Listen here, Jesus."

"Have you'd come out here,"

"brother wouldn't have died,"

"with your healing hands and all that."

Once again, Jesus is resilient.

He says, "I am the
resurrection and the life."

"Whoever believes in me, shall live."

"Do you believe in me?"

She says, "Yes."

So they go to the tomb.

And then Jesus has a chat with God

and thanks him for listening.

And then he says,

"Lazarus, come forth."

And lo and behold,

Lazarus is resurrected.

Huh.

Are you religious?

- No.

- So I just wasted a
perfectly good tale on you.

Stop crying.

Babies cry.

Are you a baby?

Hmm?

I can't hear you.
- No.

- What?
- No.

- Louder.
- No.

- Oh, you can do better than that, louder,

scream it, like your life depended on it.

- No!

- Now that was a good no.

But you were crying.

So, let's try it again.

But this time, without all
that unnecessary sobbing.

Burn up.

- No.

- I like you.

Your friend over there,

not as much.

But you, you're a different
animal all together.

You're almost worth keeping alive.

I'm not sure.

Tell me something
interesting about yourself

and I'll consider it.

- What?

- Tell me something
interesting about yourself

and I'll consider it.

- I'm an artist, I paint.

- Boring.

Try again, Picasso.

- My name is a palindrome.

- What now?

- You can spell it the same
way backwards and forwards.

Anna, A-N-N-A, A-N-N-A.

It doesn't matter what way you go,

it's the same thing.

- That was bloody special.

Wow, that was not interesting at all.

But it did make me laugh.

I'm gonna let you live.

Or is it a God-complex, maybe.

Choosing who and when I take a life

and who I breathe life into.

Take your buddies bad batch over there,

and go live to the fullest.

You any good at that painting malarkey?

Famous?

What's your surname?

- Smith, Smith.

- Anna Smith?

I hate that name.

I hate that name.

Get yourself a nice
little palindrome surname

to go with that palindrome
first name of yours,

and turn all this energy here tonight

into a ball of darkness and light.

Paint something so beautiful,

so lush,

that everyone asks what
the inspiration is.

And just before you go
to answer that question,

every time you're asked it,

only to see my face.

Every time you give a diplomatic response,

My face.

Something that reminds you of the time

you were basically dead.

You were dead.

And I decided to raise you

from the tomb.

Huh.

I, Jesus,

you, Lazarus.

- I think you said something sweet.

- Si.

Come on, just come out, please?

- Not tonight.

- Really?
- Really,

I just wanna relax.

I can't believe this.

I hate you so much right now, you know.

- I'd hate me too I drew
an object of importance.

I'm sorry, okay?

- Well don't be sorry and I'll be better.

All right, well if you're not going out,

I'm not going to go out.

- Why?

- Because I don't trust you.

- Why?

Oh, come on.

Last time was a mistake, okay?

I just took a bad batch.

It was.

Listen, I know I've been
speaking about dying tonight,

but I am just playing
the role of dissatisfied

but actually very satisfied artist.

Okay?

You can go out, have fun.

- I just want you to be happy.

- I am happy.

Very happy, okay?

Okay?

Oiu, oiu?
- Si, si.

All right, all right, fine, okay.

Do you ever think.

- Spit it out, whatever it is,

spit it out.

- No, I don't want to.

- Okay.

- Okay, that's it, okay?

- I'm not gonna force you to tell me

whatever it is you're internalizing.

- Well I was just gonna ask you

if you think we are a cute couple?

Was that you asking or...

Yeah, sure.

- That's it?

- Define "cute couple."

- Um, filling each other's gaps.

Compliment each other.

Do we, do we spark enough?

- I don't wanna speak about love.

- Why, you never...
- It's such

an unquantifiable thing.

- No, it's not.

- Oh, it fucking is.

- How so?

- Okay, go on, quantify it.

- All right, forget it.
- No, quantify it.

- Well it's quantified by my emotion.

- Your emotion?

- Well, yeah, through my emotion.

- Okay.

Well I guess you quantified it then.

- Yes, I did.

So do you love me?

- Do you love me?
- Love is a construct.

- All right, so not a prison.
- No, no.

- Okay, Jesus.
- No, no, just a construct.

- Answer me, dear, do you love me?

- If you ask me that question again,

I'm going to stab you in the eye

with this dirty fork.

Not all people use dishwashers.

You end washing your
shit by hands anyways.

- That is not the answer to
the question I just asked.

- I answered your question.

I said, "No."

I mean, you gotta be real with yourself.

I might find someone better than you.

- Oh.
- There's so many people

out there.
- Really?

- So many countries, so
many genders, species.

- I hear ya, same here.

- Can you please stop using the phone?

- People are posting
comments about the piece.

- You live your life worrying
about being influential

to people you've never met.

- I don't see what's wrong
checking my cellphone

and the net to see what
the response is to my work.

- Answer the question.
- What?

I've been with
you through everything.

- So?

So, so if you're not
going to answer my question,

at least don't ignore me on your phone.

Talk to me.

- Have we not talked enough tonight?

Talking is overrated.

Some people just want action.

Action is overrated.

♪ I wanna tell you something ♪

♪ It's on my mind ♪

♪ Yeah, I gotta tell you something ♪

♪ The very first time ♪

♪ 'Cause I think I miss you, darling ♪

♪ I miss your smile ♪

♪ Yeah, I really miss you, darling ♪

♪ For the very first time ♪

♪ I step out in the morning ♪

♪ Her face runs dry ♪

♪ I woke up in the evening ♪

♪ Be by your side ♪

- Okay, I'll do it.
- Huh?

- Paris.
- Really?

- Yep, I guess so.

- What made you change your mind?

- Don't ask me anymore questions,

or I'll change my mind.

- I'm affirmative.

- This country's going
to the shits anyway.

- That would be the reason then?

- So, when shall we do it?

- Soon, like two weeks.

- Wow, you don't waste time, huh?

- No, I've always wanted to move there.

We'd be alone, it would
just be you, me, Paris.

Paris being the name
of our kid, or course.

- I'm not having a fucking kid with you!

Shut that noise up.

Plus, you barely got me to agree to this.

- Oh, barely?
- Yes, barely.

Now, drink up.

I have to see a woman about a dog.

- What?
♪ 'Cause I really miss you ♪

- A little business deal.

- I thought you said you
weren't gonna sell anymore.

- Acting doesn't pay as
well as you think it does,

plus I have to pay my way
around Paris, don't I?

- I see.

- I promise, last time I'll sell.

We'll be in and out in five minutes tops.

Girl god's honor.

- I'm pretty sure it's scout's honor.

- Mm, girl gods of honor, too.

- Oh, do they?

- Yeah, immense honor.

- You know girl's can't join the scouts.

Really, wow.

Very topical.

- So.

So?

- Do you love me?

- You know tonight's party was meant

to be your party, right?

- I know, I don't feel
comfortable with all that hoo-ha.

- The main party guest
isn't there, it looks bad.

- They'll live.
- Si, maybe.

- Talia, did we buy rizz-liz?

Hello?

- I reminded you.

- Is that a no?

If it's a no, you could just say no.

None or whatever you Spanish people say.

Fine, screw you.

I don't speak Spanish.

Of course you don't.

- Talia?

I had a dream last night.

Don't usually sleep enough to dream

or have the energy to
remember even if I did,

but this one was so vivid.

My mother and father were fighting.

He was telling me to become an accountant.

Follow the family tradition.

He had my head and he was pushing it

into a pond or a lake.

Like he was baptizing me or something.

My mother, she smiled.

But it wasn't an sadistic smile,

she was smiling at me.

She was happy

'cause I wasn't submitting.

I wasn't swayed, I wasn't
cowering to it all.

I was serene as I was dunked in.

Over and over again.

- Aren't you bored of this city?

I've been everywhere.

I've seen everything.

Literally everything.

You have to earn an astronomical amount

to even get on the property ladder.

And so who wants to be a
slave to corporate capitalism?

- Then come to Paris with me.

- What do you mean?
- I'm moving there.

Are you still
banging on about this?

- I'm serious, I'm going,

my art doesn't do well here.

Maybe I just need to
see more of the world.

Get out there.
- Of course

you fucking have to.
- Okay.

- Listen, I used to go to
audition after audition

after audition, and I would treat each one

as if it was the end of the fucking world

if I didn't get the role.

Then one day, I was rejected so much

that I walked into the room

and I just did not give a fuck anymore.

And that's when I landed that TV job.

- Yeah, well that was a while ago.

- I'll get another one.

Oh, I bloody hope so.

I'm broke over here.

Anyway, point was and is,

is that you were born
into money in the suburbs

and you have sucked from your
mother's teat ever since.

- That is not true.
- Oh, but it is.

Be real with yourself.

You gotta live on the edge more.

Then you art will improve.

- Right, so you're coming
to Paris with me then?

- Not a chance in hell.

- You'll miss me.

- No.

- In English?

- I said, you never answer
me and I don't get why.

- About?

You know what?

Not this again!

I'm sorry, okay?

- Well don't be sorry,

be better.
- Be better.

I know.

- All right.

How many times have I said
to you that I love you?

So many.

You can't even say it once.

I've heard you say it
to her so many times.

- Oh, come on, that is unfair.

That is so unfair.

- And eight months ago,
she left you in pieces.

Six months ago, I came into your life,

and I've turned things around.

Your art is better.

Your maturity is better.

Even your health is better.

- Wow.

- Look, all I'm saying is she
was really bad for you, okay?

Like really bad.

And I am really good for you.

For that reason alone, you should love me.

- Interior designers, huh?

So self-consumed.

- Oh, so you do know what I do then?

- Vaguely.

- Can I trust you to be
responsible with yourself

when I am not here?

- Yes, Mom.

- For your concession, huh?
- Oui, Mom.

- This bad batch, is that a true story?

- Yes.

- Where did you get it from?

- Around.
- Around,

what kind of answer is that?

Is it the same batch
from that fucking bitch?

- Hey.

- Where's this batch now?

- Where do you think?

I flushed it, it was bad.

- I'm serious, Anna.

You nearly OD'd last break.

- I know.

Bad batch, I almost died,

it won't happen again.

They're tucked away.

Disposed of.

Have fun at the party, Mom.

- You're wrong, you know?

- About what?

- That your art should not leave you

for it to become legendary.

Yeah, everyone remembers
the name of the artists.

Dali, Da Vinci, Drake,

but no one remembers the
actual art attributed to them.

- Not true.
- Look up Van Gogh.

No one remembers any of his art.

Just that the guy cut
off his own fucking ear.

- And that, my dear, is my point.

- Do you think we're going to make it?

It feels like we won't, Anna.

I know how true love feels like

and it's never a struggle like this.

- I need to buy some rizz-liz.

- Huh, okay.

I won't be here when you get back.

- Ever or?

Have fun tonight.

- Maybe I'm too beautiful.

- What?

- I keep ending up in shit films.

Maybe if my face matched my character.

I'm serious.
- Okay.

- This shitty short film I'm working on,

they haven't a clue.

So there's a scene where the protagonist

is shot by the antagonist,

and he stands there like this,

and then, bang, the antagonist
shoots him in the chest,

and he, of course, survives.

What bullshit.

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

If you were a big, bad
antagonist, cold-blooded,

you're going to shoot to kill.

And if you're going to shoot to kill,

you're going to shoot
him straight in head.

Bang!

Head clean off.

The amount of films I've seen

where the good guy gets shot in the chest

and survives is countless.

Total bullshit.
- And you're speaking

from experience, of course.

- Maybe.

- Oh right, so you've shot someone?

- Again, maybe.

- So actress by day, but
lethal assassin by night

who shoots people in the head.

- There's a lot about
me you don't know, Anna.

- Well if it is more on this nonsense,

then thank god it's all over.

- We never really get to
know someone fully, do we?

- Maybe, but I like to
think we're different.

None of us are
different, Anna darling.

None of us are unique.

We're all simply tiny
specs of insignificance

in a universe that engulfs us.

Did you know it takes a million years

for a light from a distant star

to travel to Earth?

Which means that the light
you see from a star at night

is from a million years ago.

- Okay.
- And the light

you see from the sun everyday

is from eight minutes ago.

Time travel.

- Light, sun, we live in
the United Kingdom, my dear.

- Oh, stop being so pedantic.

I really hope

an antagonist shoots you in head.

- Wow.

I'm the protagonist?

Oh, and you're my sidekick.

Bang.

Do you think artists create
more awe-inspiring art

when they're high?

Intoxicated?

Case in point, I happen to think

the best music, the most
seminal music ever created

was created in the 60's.

You have the Rolling Stones, for example.

The Beatles, all of bloody Motown.

They should have called it Blowtown.

Yeah, fine, that was a lame joke.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah.

All of those individuals

and pretty much everyone from that era,

drugged up.

They say heartbreak creates art.

That's true.

Or at least I think it's true.

But that's irrelevant though, isn't it?

Because most conflict creates art.

However, to create great fucking art,

like mind-bending, legacy making,

Alexander Mc-fucking-Queen art,

would you say you need drugs?

My thoughts exactly.

♪ I gotta tell you something ♪

♪ It's on my mind ♪

♪ I gotta tell you something ♪

♪ For the very first time ♪

♪ If I could ♪

♪ Tell you ♪

Really?

Hello?

Who is it?

I have a gun!

In English, I speak English!

I'm sorry.

Wrong place.

- Yes, fucking wrong place!

- So you love coffee.

- Everyone loves coffee.

- Jet black coffee?

- Jet black.

- I'll keep that in mind
for our future dates.

- Is this a date?

- You are a palindrome.

- I'm a what?

- It's the name of a sequence
that's exactly the same

backwards and forwards.

Anna, palindrome.

Huh?

- Let me show you.

A-N-N-A.

See it's the same forwards and backwards.

Palindrome.

- Wow, that was fun.

Fuck off!

I'm educating you.

- You know, actually reminds
me of a story I heard once.

Do you know a love story told backwards

always has a happy ending?

- Who said that?

- I don't actually remember.

Anyhow, have you ever had deja vu?

Like you've been here before?

♪ For the very first time ♪

Come on, come on, come on.

Hello?

- Anna?

Did you search for me on the net?

- No.
- Why?

I asked you to.

I explicitly told you to search my name.

- I forgot.

How could you forget
such an explicit instruction?

A person tells you that
they're going to die

and ask you to search
their name and you forget?

- I've had a lot going on.

I'm stubborn.

I'm stubborn, selfish
person, I know this now.

I didn't know it before, but now I do.

I think I have to be this way.

I think so, anyway, but
I'm here for you now.

Uh, correction,
you're there, I'm here.

- Well tell me where you are.

I can still save you.

Anna?

Please, Anna, there's
only two minutes left.

Go to the door.

- Mary, no book?

- I guess I finally got to your level.

Too clever to learn new things.

- I don't wanna get better.

I wanna remain crazy.

What if I forget you if I get better?

- Get better.

Whoever said you were crazy?

- Wisdom is better than weapons of war,

but one sinner destroyeth much good.

- I don't have any limitations.

- Hmm.

Mozart had to go to Vienna

to become what he wanted.

You merely have to shoot me.

Much better than going to fucking Vienna.

Those fucking Europeans.

Kill me and become your own person.

Find your freedom.

- This is what I am.

And that's okay.

I am destiny and perpetual repetition.

♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh ♪

♪ I wanna tell you something ♪

♪ It's on my mind ♪

♪ And I gotta tell you something ♪

♪ For the very first time ♪

♪ 'Cause I think I miss you, darling ♪

♪ I miss your smile ♪

♪ And I really miss you, darling ♪

♪ For the very first time ♪

♪ I step out in the morning ♪

♪ My face runs dry ♪