Three Crowns of the Sailor (1983) - full transcript
A drunken sailor recounts the surrealistic odyssey of his life story to a murderous student.
No use going into detail,
let's just say that
we weathered a storm
before arriving
in the West Indies.
Three Crowns of the Sailor
On the night of July 25, 1958,
I killed Ladislav Zukakevitch,
antique dealer,
my mentor, my master in the art
of polishing diamonds,
my tutor
at Warsaw Theological School.
I got nothing out of this crime,
except the ring
he offered me many times,
several hundred marks,
a collection
of old coins, of no value,
a long letter where he advised me
to leave the country.
It was the last piece of advice
among others he'd given me,
and one I had to follow.
Tadeusz, student,
referring to himself as "he",
walked straight for the
first train to Warsaw.
Being in the streets
after midnight
was in itself suicidal.
Wandering aimlessly,
he heard echoes of a scuffle.
He thought a stray bullet
whizzed past his head.
It should have killed him,
but once again,
fate granted him that inch
which definitely spared him
a relieving death.
Then he saw the sailor.
What're you looking for?
You.
At this time of night?
You have a pass?
Do you?
My case is different.
I need money.
I knew it.
Just a little.
I knew it.
I've got plenty on me.
That's too much.
Those pre-war marks have no value.
I've got money, too.
Let me treat you.
At this time? Where?
Here, or over there. Why not?
I'm a sailor.
We sailors, we know places...
Don't worry.
There are places... and places.
I must go.
You know I don't have a pass.
There're places only sailors know...
That's what they say.
I've got to go.
Too late.
I need you, er... you need me.
Why'd I need a drunken sailor now?
Why'd a poor sailor
need to help a student in trouble?
Why him? Why not another?
Why should he help him flee tonight?
Why should a student trust
the first stranger
claiming to protect him?
Why should a discerning stranger
share his last hours
with a sought-after delinquent?
You look like an interesting person.
Thank you.
I need money.
I knew it. I've got money.
- Marks...
- Worthless!
That's not so important.
Isn't money everything in life?
I need 3 Danish crowns
now... before sunrise.
Would you have them?
Who knows? I wish I knew.
You must go. True or false?
Before sunrise.
There's a job on my ship.
My job.
It'll cost you 3 Danish crowns.
I think I can find them.
Let's talk about it.
Do you believe in the here-after?
You mean another life?
- I said the here-after!
- Let go!
No I don't.
Let me tell you first off,
I'm an atheist.
My story should interest you.
It's...
about the here-after.
I think it's a good story for you.
- I don't think so.
- Yes, it is.
I think it's a good story for you.
Besides, it's a story...
you'll have to listen.
That's...
- the price, you know...
- I see.
It's the price of the job
on the ship.
That's cheap.
Yes, you're right.
That's the price... plus...
Shit, I don't remember...
plus 3 Danish crowns.
Yes, 3 crowns.
Is that all?
The student, referring
to himself as "I" when bored,
listened to one more story.
One of those stories I loved
when searching from bar to bar
for the ship
for the ship to take me away.
It all started in Valparaiso.
Broke, I was looking
for a job on a ship
like hundreds of others,
looking for anything
that would take them away.
Everyday, down in the harbor,
long lines left no hope for work
for several months, or even years.
The same thing, day after day...
Days of waiting with nothing to do.
It seems like yesterday...
One man couldn't stop
himself from lying.
Nothing he said was true.
All he seemed to be was unreal.
Nothing about him
fit what one could call normal.
Moreover, none of his anomalies
fit what one could call eccentric.
On the docks,
they called him the Blindman.
May I die if it's not true,
if my days are not already numbered.
It means you're in good health.
A drink?
How're you gonna pay for it,
my friend?
Here, take it.
You pay,
so they'll have nothing to say.
Some advice:
- never take money from others.
- Especially from you!
You've been warned.
Give me the money back.
Take it.
With it...
I'll buy you a beer with it.
Everyone here knows
that I'm buying you
a beer with your money.
- How do you know?
- I know it,
but I don't believe it.
Some advice: never give
money to anyone
without something in return.
For the money you gave me,
I'll tell you something...
tonight in the port,
there's a job on the Funchalense.
Don't believe me.
Never trust people like me.
I don't believe you.
Don't stop mistrusting me later on.
Am I to believe there's really
a job for me?
No one believes it,
anyway, I've done my duty.
This type of information...
is worth at least three beers.
As you like.
Waiter, 3 beers!
We drank all afternoon.
I fell asleep.
An old sailor woke me up.
Someone's waiting for you.
Don't believe it.
It's only red paint.
For fun, someone...
put some red paint on me.
There were 5 of them.
They wanted to get away.
The Blindman tricked them.
He promised them a job
on the Funchalense
which had left over a week ago.
Is that you?
No, it's something else.
Wait for me!
I've got something to tell you.
The old man wanted
to tell me another story.
He didn't stop talking for 2 hours.
15 years ago, I landed in this area.
In Bilbao,
there's a replica of this area.
Over there...
The Texas Bar
is called there La Estrella.
It's got the same number of tables.
On a similar lamp,
3 rebels were hung in Singapore.
Every year,
I light candles for them.
I ignored him.
I didn't even look at him.
I could only think
of the Blindman's death.
When I wanted
to say goodbye to him,
he was no longer there.
I realized I had been
wandering alone for hours.
Yet, I could have sworn
I'd heard his voice.
It was then, in front of me,
I saw the Funchalense
for the first time.
The ex-Socrates 4, Athens...
The ex-Flora, Mondrovia...
I almost turned and walked away.
But I couldn't.
Help yourself...
Cheers!
Would you point out a place
on the map?
Talara.
That's correct, my friend...
if I can call you that.
I've never been on the open sea.
Those are not really voyages...
only little jaunts...
Do you have a job for me?
I mean, a job for a sailor
out of work?
Of course!
Who'd go out on such a boat?
I like it.
Could you point out another place?
Tour.
Incredible!
Halifax.
Close.
An other, and another one...
- Bastia...
- Wrong!
Koo-Loong.
Maybe, but valid.
Bring your papers and duffel bag,
we sail at dawn.
Son, what's wrong?
You're white as a sheet.
- What happened?
- I walked around the docks.
You met some friends.
You wasted your time
drinking with them.
Without deserving it,
you got a job on a ship
that'll take you away forever!
His eyes are blood-shot.
He's blue!
Mother, I'm leaving.
I shove off tonight.
God only knows if we'll see
each other again.
Are you afraid of leaving?
You've got a forced laugh.
You see this ring?
Bring me another one.
A better one...
If you have time,
find me a necklace,
like the one
my next-to-the-last fianc gave me.
Like the one I threw away,
in the canal.
Bring back at least two bicycles,
and some of the coffee
we used to drink.
Now, look at me...
kiss me and don't forget me.
Mother woke the neighbors,
they brought wine and guitars
for the farewell.
I'm your sister's fianc.
I like her very much.
Now that you're leaving,
I'll be the only breadwinner
in your family.
I accept this duty.
I ask nothing for this sacrifice.
Besides, I love your sister,
but you should know
you're making us rush into it.
The least a globe-trotter could do
is to make an effort...
Think of me...
That's my only request.
- Think of me once a week.
- I promise.
That's what they say...
but then forget.
Do you remember the first time
you heard "apple"?
- Neither do I.
- Does that bother you?
Not really.
But everything is a lie.
Remember me, and I promise
to forget everything.
- Would you like a doll?
- Three, no, five!
- A baby carriage?
- Eight, no, two!
- A bicycle?
- I don't know.
- A record player?
- I don't know.
- A boat?
- I don't know.
- A train set?
- Yes, a train.
You'd like a train.
What does she want?
I don't know.
Son,
the queen has arrived.
She's waiting to dance with you.
I seem to still be
hearing her voice.
Mother said she was the prettiest.
She came to dance
the last waltz with me.
I know it's my fault
that you're leaving.
All the boys my age are leaving.
It's my fault.
They only see my beauty.
They don't see I'm only beautiful.
Look, they're hiding as usual.
It's good you're going.
You'd end up killing
yourself because of me.
You'll come back, get married
and have kids.
Maybe you and your wife'll die.
Your kids will be orphans.
But I'll be there to raise them,
because I'll never get married.
When you're only beautiful,
you're always alone.
Hear that?
That poor baker has
just killed himself!
See?
That's my destiny.
It's good you're going.
That bitch! She killed him!
The party was over,
Mother was sleeping
maybe dreaming of my return.
While everyone was singing.
I slipped away.
While leaving Valparaiso,
I wanted to write to my mother.
I wanted to write her
what I had never dared
to say to her.
For example:
"The night is starry,
"the stars are twinkling.
"I'm ready to forget
the slaps on Christmas,
"the beating I got on
my 10th birthday."
I forgave her for not having
given me a name.
I forgave her Valparaiso,
the nights with no electricity,
that time,
and all the other times,
when I lost the pen and the shawl.
I also told her...
that I loved her.
This was my first letter.
My first friend
was the Impersonator
who imitated everyone,
dead or alive.
So, you've left your little fiance?
We all have a little fiance.
Why?
- It's not the same, I hope!
- What do you mean?
We all have the same little fiance.
We call her
"The little fiance from America".
She's very pretty, very beautiful.
Mine's already forgotten me.
She forgets us, too.
She's got amnesia.
- Mine never loved me...
- She loves no one.
Maybe she's not the same one,
but she's the same.
We're all the same.
That's why I have this...
I keep looking at my photo.
This way,
I can't forget what I look like.
I've seen you somewhere...
No, not me, it's the other.
It's the same thing.
We're all the same.
We'll all end up in the same place.
Don't stare,
or you'll end up like me.
Like my so-called best friend,
who lost himself,
like everyone else.
I was his best friend,
because...
I loved him
better than I loved myself.
This friend in question...
he messed around with my fiance
who I loved more than anything.
I realized that the voice I heard
belonged to someone I thought dead.
You know whom I'm talking about...
You've surely guessed
what I was thinking about:
we're all dead here.
This is the other life.
But how can they lift
the heavy crates?
Break their necks?
And how can they eat?
They eat in the here-after?
Who said it was the here-after?
The rest is easy to guess.
You've heard this story before?
Yes, but no one was eating in it.
Eating's got nothing to do with it.
But, they were eating anyway.
We ate at different hours.
Whenever you'd go into
the dining room,
you'd see 3 or 4 guys snacking.
Sometimes, they'd be crying
in their soup,
salting it with their tears.
The only salt on board
was smuggled on.
Inspection! Everyone up!
Sometimes the captain
and his officers
searched the bunks.
Inspection!
Move your ass!
What the hell is in there?
I'm sure he hid it there.
Captain, look, salt!
Those shitheads!
They hid the salt!
What is that?
Alcohol?
I'll have some.
It's sea water!
You shitheads! We got you!
Listen, Captain...
It's not my fault.
There're sick men on board.
They'll die without salt.
Don't laugh, Captain.
Captain! You never listen to me!
Don't laugh, Captain!
He's crazy!
That makes you laugh,
you assholes!
You take away life and our teeth!
I can't take this shit anymore.
I'm gonna beat it.
I'm gonna chuck it all.
But first,
I'm gonna get dressed up.
I don't want to croak
looking like this.
Those assholes, they'll pay for it.
My tooth!
Keep my tooth as a souvenir...
It's all your fault, Captain...
I saw him jump overboard.
Yet, the next day,
he was with the other men...
Did they fish you out?
Who me?
I saw you fall in the water...
It wasn't me.
I know you well, we talked
about your fiance.
That wasn't me,
that was the other.
Each had his own tune.
That's all they had.
I didn't have one.
I had less than nothing.
Until that day in Buenaventura...
We arrived early...
No one came to meet us.
I slept most of the day.
The singing woke me up at nightfall.
What you're saying is interesting.
Pity it's already been
said many times.
Pity I've already hit
another idiot like you!
Interesting. Where?
In a port, similar to this one.
- Interesting.
- Shit!
Same goes for this song.
I'm Marina.
I like everything but that.
I don't like you,
but I know certain things...
I'm Estrella, I don't like
the lights out.
I'm very mean,
but I have beauty spots.
Don't come if you don't like that.
I like them all.
Come to the back of the patio.
You'll say yes.
Come on. You'll please me.
I touch...
Let's go up there.
With or without lights.
Only one didn't speak to me.
She didn't even look at me.
She'd ignored me.
I knew she'd picked me.
Why are you making fun of me?
I know I'm not your type.
You'd never pick me.
If we were the only two left
in the world,
you'd despise me
And even if you didn't,
you'd stay with me,
because you're nice.
But I'm sure
you wouldn't touch me.
The only possible thing you'd do
is take my hand...
Nothing more than
a brotherly kiss
before leaving me forever.
Come with me...
You'd pretend to choose me
only because... you're polite,
and I'd be grateful.
But I could never accept
your kindness.
Normally, I should've brought you
to the Roosevelt Room,
or the Japanese Room.
Better yet,
to the Trafalgar Room.
Or to the Andalousian room.
But since you've been
so nice to me...
I might speak to you
in Maria's room...
In other words, my room.
Can you hear this song?
Can you hear the words?
That expresses everything I feel.
You want to give love
You're so alone in your pain
It's so beautiful! Listen!
It's wonderful.
You're so blind when you suffer...
A cold, a cruel cold...
Where men meet...
Frightening wave of my love
Holy shit! That's great!
By the way,
why are you chewing gum?
By the way?
It's not me, it's another girl.
Of course, she's prettier.
They call here "By-the-way".
She's always saying it.
So, for the chewing gum...
Let's just say... it's you.
Can I be frank with you?
Please, go ahead.
Then listen closely.
There're some men,
not very many,
who've come here
and left screaming.
Maybe that's why everyone
laughs at me
by calling me
"The Virgin Mary".
Let them say what they like.
Everything I own is here:
a toothbrush,
a book, a missel,
a bottle of perfume,
the last letter from my father,
a record by Caruso...
Countless stockings I never wear...
And this shoe that I love above all.
Do you like that?
You know me and souvenirs...
Look!
I decided that you'd be there.
Touch if you want.
They represent all the men
who've come here.
You must know, once and for all,
I'm not a virgin.
You know, me and virgins...
Do coffins bother you?
Coffins?
What do you want me to say?
What's a coffin?
It's like any other bed.
- A bed?
- It's the same...
I guess... I mean, it's a thing!
A coffin is like a...
A boat.
That's it, it's like a boat.
A boat?
I don't know... Like a car,
A coffin is like a... car...
It's like a toothbrush, a shoe...
It's like a hat, a hankie.
Oh shit, I don't know!
A coffin is like a coffin,
that's it!
Anyway, I wouldn't leave
just for that.
Then I'll tell you my story.
Dad got one when he found out
I was going to die.
My agony lasted many, many years.
When I came to,
I had several new brothers.
I kept my coffin.
Is it that grave?
Is it that sad?
We made love.
She told me her story.
Always the same...
She was the only breadwinner...
Misery, the life of the poor...
She had to pay off one
of her father's debts.
She wanted to leave
for the big city with her brothers
and lead a decent life.
I had no money on me.
I went to the ship.
The men were sleeping,
barely breathing.
The safekeeper was up.
As if waiting for me,
smoking a cigarette...
Can you lend me some money?
- How much?
- Less than what you have.
That's already too much.
You could spare more than that.
Less than nothing
is still too much.
I'll pay you back.
Well, I hope so.
The problem is these bills
are family mementos.
You'll have to give
the same ones back.
- I'll never find the same currency.
- Sure you can!
A dollar is always a dollar,
a quid is a quid,
but a dollar is not a quid.
I understand.
Maria was waiting for me.
Others had wanted her
while I was gone...
the sailors knew they'd
never find a girl like her.
I'd had never thought
you'd give me the money I needed.
No doubt,
you're different.
Until now,
I thought there were only
dirty things in this world,
and nothing existed
beyond these walls.
Until now, I thought that everything
was a synonym of sex.
Do you hear the children in the yard
reciting the 365 names
of the masculine organ?
Count the money,
I must give the same ones back.
There's 30000 escudos here.
Hear that?
127 names of the female organ!
Count it!
7000 carabes,
4000 old lantaros.
9000 nationales...
4000 old lanteros...
9000 nationales, 20000 stars...
90 dollars...
4000 pears.
We sailed for several months.
I couldn't get along
with the crew.
They named me "The Other".
One night, I happened
upon a strange scene.
Some sailors were showing
their tattoos.
Each called his tattoo
"the Letter".
They wondered how many letters
were missing.
If the letter happened
to be the same,
they hugged each other
like brothers.
If not...
they'd be wary of one another.
They kept repeating
an old saying:
"Words are made of letters,
and songs of words".
This was a popular song
at that time.
The captain only liked Beethoven.
He sang "Ode to Joy" day and night.
No one else was allowed to sing it.
He constantly changed the words.
We often talked about him
and his tapestry.
I'll tell you later.
Sooner. Why not now?
Oh yes. I remember now...
- You, bastard!
- Yes sir!
We sailors,
we're strange beings,
but we have a heart.
On this boat, we're all one.
It's a big brotherhood.
It is necessary...
each one has his place.
You are one of us.
You be the letter "N".
You're already part of the story.
Which one A.M. I?
Several. A human being
is very complicated.
Do you claim to be
as simple as one letter?
This time, it was a long crossing.
We talked like the soppy
novels we read.
We spent endless nights
living other lives.
We didn't care anymore,
we slept all the time.
Until the day
I was in Singapore...
I was looking
for the famous brothel
when I saw a very young child.
He was reading.
I felt like a father to him.
I wished for him
a better life than mine,
a doctor perhaps.
There's not enough light,
you'll ruin your eyes!
Dr. Wepoyoung is explaining
that he doesn't need light.
He is the light.
He's furiously poetic.
I never get tired
of listening to him.
Let me introduce myself:
Arnaud de Prfontaine,
the French Honorary Consul.
What's a European doing
in such a neighborhood?
It's completely unusual
and furiously dangerous.
What are you doing
in the opium district?
I have good reason.
In this bitch of a city,
bitch in every sense of the word,
you can't find cigarettes,
especially Gauloises
I smoke six packs a day,
in a pipe.
If not, they'd swipe them.
Recently, the Consulate's
been invaded by thieves
and cross-word fanatics of all kinds.
It's furiously unpleasant.
How old is he?
He's older than he seems.
- At least 90.
- Is that true?
Obviously!
He's lived and will live
more years than you
and I will ever see.
But he's ill.
May I be ill like him!
He's getting younger.
When he doesn't eat,
he gets younger.
It costs me a fortune
to keep him from eating.
The least bowl of rice
makes him age a year.
I wasted infinitely precious years
maintaining Dr. Wepoyoung
in this state.
10 years of effort
reduced to nothing!
Alas, I'm being transferred
to Porto Galiegos
where I'll waste
my precious time
with Brits
whose beastliness is known
and with Argentines.
I'll leave the doctor to you
since you're
furiously attached to him.
The Consul recommended
two orphans to me.
To my great surprise,
I realized they knew my son,
the doctor.
The French Consul sent me.
They didn't want to tell me
how they'd met him.
I only asked them
to take care of him.
I wanted to know
how much it'd cost me.
I don't understand.
I understand less and less.
I see...
They asked a nominal fee
as he barely ate a thing.
I had no money on me.
I went back.
On board, I met the 1st Officer.
Straight out,
I asked him for money.
He had ready
the exact amount I wanted.
How had he known
what I didn't know?
And we sailed throughout the world.
Sometimes I seemed
to be living in another body.
Until I finally woke up
in the body of an other.
I wanted to look in the mirror,
I found myself on the deck.
I hit a door and felt nothing.
Many other feelings overtook me.
The wind took my breath away,
even though
I was completely sheltered.
I could at last see myself
as I reached the deck.
I tried very hard
to look at myself,
and get to the place
I was standing.
The body I was living
in wasn't obeying me.
I steered my body, clumsily.
I steered the body
that I had usurped
for an instant.
My body was pushing me
to the depths...
I was in two places
at the same time.
That would be the end of me.
I had to gather my wits
as fast as possible.
But where was I?
I thought I saw myself
in 2 or 3 places.
Finally, emptiness.
I saw me through
the eyes of an other.
I saw me walking toward
the water, ready to jump.
An unrepressible thirst
was forcing me.
I could hear me say:
"Sing!"
I said to me and my body:
"Sing!"
Suddenly, a voice was heard.
A song broke out.
For once, everyone was singing
the same tune.
That's how the song saved us.
Too bad for the other!
May God find him among
the millions of tuna. Amen!
Perhaps it was this song...
The song...
Tell me about the letters first.
The other student
wanted to know, too.
I mean, the tattoos...
This one?
This one?
This one?
Continue...
Now, you'll tell me
about the shipwreck.
I was just about to tell you.
We weathered several storms.
We weren't afraid.
We were sure the ship
would never sink.
And the storms were our friends.
Each one had a name:
There was Lily, the singer,
Marguerite, the whistler,
Mimi, the bitch,
Belinda, the liar,
and then, the faithful Natacha
who came every December 15th.
Then, one day
they stopped coming.
Nothing happened
for a long time.
Now, I was really afraid.
One day,
when there wasn't even a ripple,
not even a breath of wind,
the boat sank!
The boat had begun to sink
and I saw disaster coming.
I tried to help the sailors.
No use!
They showed no fear.
They were resigned,
simply to die.
I thought of my mother,
of my love in Buenaventura,
of my son in Singapore.
I wanted to live!
I managed to launch
a lifeboat and get in.
Then I saw the ship.
I swear I saw it sink!
I swear by your mother, by your son,
and by your only love!
The Funchalense was engulfed
by a glassy sea,
under a full moon.
Oh yes, by a beautiful
summer night.
I drifted for 4 days.
On the 5th, I woke up to a mixture
of uneasiness and well-being.
Now that I think of it,
it must've been the salt.
Or maybe
the weight of a coin
under my tongue.
I really don't know.
I heard voices blaspheming:
"Star of the sea... Pray for us!"
The former is a tavern in Hamburg,
the latter is a brothel in Cyprus.
I'd gladly sell my soul
for a pint of beer.
I couldn't help not being surprised
by this weird scene:
the return of
the Vallon de Marseille,
the ex-Funchalense,
ex-Socrates 4.
I said to myself:
"What's life?
It's just an absurd wound."
By the way,
I must tell you about Tangiers.
What do you know about Tangiers?
Nothing?
Neither do I.
I got to know by chance
a lady who managed
to soften me up with
the story of her brother
who'd disappeared like me
in a hurricane.
Two men walked
towards us menacingly.
I decided not to fight back.
One was Ali.
He was mean, weak and yellow.
The other was Ahmed.
He was good, strong, resolute.
Men put out torches.
This knife is a torch
which puts out men instead.
This knife's the sun.
Your fear's its seed.
Your pockets are the trees,
and your money, their fruits.
Ali loved women,
Ahmed loved only one.
You're the house
where beauty lies.
Your mouth is the castle's door
through which my dove
has flown away.
Your nose is the tower
from where I saw the car
bringing my love to me.
Other women are drops of water,
you're the sea.
Drops run through my fingers.
My hair is wet,
and I float on you.
Help!
How'd I get in this light
on the brothers' side?
I don't remember.
I woke up in jail.
Some died, and the sentence
might be long.
They told me their sad story.
A loanshark swindled
them out of everything.
They killed him.
I swear he was really dead.
We became inseparable,
like three brothers.
They told me about their life
Ahmed thought he was Ali,
and Ali Ahmed.
Both believed the world
should be its opposite.
They acted as if the world
was what it should be.
The prisoners called
them "The Rebels".
One day, we were visited
by the man who taught me about lies
and meanness.
May God find him among
the 50000 unfaithful.
Open the cells!
He came everyday
to tell us about the truths.
He insisted, curiously,
that the cells be opened
and the guards taken away.
The father is God.
Very good.
Then, there's the son.
We finally understood
he wanted us out.
But first,
we had to get rid of him.
Thanks to him,
I'm here before you today.
May God explain the bellies
of the 100 million ants.
So, how many Gods weren't there?
Three...
No my children, that's not it.
First off, there's a father
who is God.
Then there's the son
who is God...
and the Holy Spirit who is God.
We promised
to make a fortune together
one day.
I went to the harbor.
I knew I'd find the ship.
It'd be too much to say
it was waiting for me.
Let's just say it was there
by chance, as usual.
I told you the sailors
were continually eating.
I didn't tell you
they never defecated.
Every time they thought
they'd catch me at it,
they'd make fun of me for weeks.
One day, I had the answer.
Your hand!
Me tell you guess!
A moujik is walking
around in a zoo,
near the walrus pool.
Two walruses are fighting...
Your hand!
...and when the moujik
passes near the pool,
they stop fighting. Why?
Go on, keep on talking.
Why do they stop?
Tell me the story!
That's when I knew
they couldn't defecate:
instead of sweating,
worms oozed out.
That's really interesting.
- Metamorphosis?
- Butterflies.
Yes sir, butterflies!
But it's not what you think.
The worms died,
butterflies came directly out
of the sailors' pores.
The ship was invaded by worms.
Everyone went up on the deck;
and then...
metamorphosis took place.
The butterflies were eaten
by migratory birds
who fell on the deck, poisoned,
the ones we ate for weeks on end.
The boat went back
to the Americas.
Valparaiso was seen off
in the distance.
I was looking forward
to see my mother again.
Some neighbors
pretended not to know me.
No one had heard of my sister
or my mother.
Carlos Alberto Cores,
traveling salesman...
You're looking for the party, too?
Don't tell me you don't
know anything!
I seem to be the only one
who's unfamiliar
with this story.
The salesman told me a story
that I didn't want to believe.
This house's been closed
down for many years.
You have to go around the back way.
A hallway leads to a tunnel
under the city.
You'll see, it's very beautiful.
Look!
Now, we're walking past
the room without windows.
From here, the Free Masons
run the world.
This room is located exactly
under the famous Jesuit pool
where they drown their sons.
Maybe that's why, in this area
the laws of gravity are inverted,
and we walk on the ceiling.
It's not too bad.
You get used to it quickly.
It's very good
for the heart.
To top it off,
it stimulates erections.
A year ago,
there was a party here.
Several years ago,
there was another party here.
We aren't the only ones.
Let me guess...
Like me, you met a girl
in the port,
she told you she was alone,
her fianc'd left.
You too,
you fell in love.
They invited you...
No, my case is different.
I'd just made a big sale
when I saw her.
Maybe because I have
a mother and a sister too,
when I see a woman crying,
I want to comfort her.
I told her tender things,
and all the jokes
that traveling salesmen know.
I even got her to laugh.
Without her fianc,
life had no meaning anymore.
I liked her,
I told her about the moon,
I said sublime things.
I alluded to
a Platonic relationship.
I evoked the loneliness
of night trains.
We kissed,
her icy lips burnt me.
Carlos Alberto Cores,
traveling salesman...
Delighted!
We were to meet
in the garden of her house.
I took a bath, put on perfume,
ate a steak and salad
so she wouldn't be disappointed.
She was waiting in a sexy negligee.
She wasn't bad, padded hips,
small but firm breasts...
Why should I tell you
what she told me?
Even I blushed.
When we least expected it,
we heard screams.
We came back to earth.
My son,
it's about time you got here!
You sister's with God knows who!
She's not a little girl anymore.
Is that what they taught you?
That's how the brother
and mother caught me
in the quite pleasant act of...
I narrowly escaped.
Now I'm back
to see her again
because this girl left
a thorn in my heart.
I discovered the house in this state.
It hadn't been lived
in for 10 years.
A drama must have
taken place here.
Now, it's haunted by ghosts.
What?
All my characters are ghosts?
That's scandalous!
Excuse me, I'm going
to take a piss...
Dear brother...
My beloved son...
fruit of my womb
piece of my flesh
esteemed and respected brother
my open wound, my torture...
Farewell, my brother.
I decided to return home that night.
You've come back! How dreadful!
Your sister couldn't
take the shame.
She committed suicide.
Why?
First her fianc! What despair!
What endless agony!
You'd never understand
your sister's languishing
day after day
and finally dead!
What a disgrace!
Think of your sister's shame.
And you added to it:
your fighting,
your life-sentence...
She wasn't strong enough to wait.
Now that you're free,
everything will be better.
She died yesterday.
I wasn't strong enough
to stay with my mother,
nor resist coming back the next day.
Are you on the demolition team?
No, I lived here before.
Really?
What's going on here?
We're to tear this house down.
They wanted a church,
but red tape...
So what are you going to put up?
A high obelisk in the middle
of a large square.
You must forget the horrors
of the past.
I used to live here.
I remember an old lady who waited
for her son's return.
I saw him, then...
Accident?
The butcher's truck ran him down.
Then his poor old mother
starved to death.
You sure it happened here?
Of course I am.
Is it yours?
No it's not.
It sure is yours.
For days I wandered
from bar to bar,
drunk, trying to forget.
That night,
I saw the "Femme fatale"
who plays with the delicate
heart of the sailor.
Here you forget all
the worries of the world.
The only true haven is art,
beauty...
Mathilda was nudity made art.
This cursed woman
made me suffer so much
that I forgot all my cares.
Yes, that's it...
or rather...
You see what I mean?
Was it that day?
I noted it down.
Woman...
I thought that...
I don't know...
I was feeling good,
no,
rather...
You see what I mean...
Yes,
that's it
or rather...
You see what I mean...
Nudity is an art.
Besides, art is only nudity.
He admires you like one admires art.
There's no more art,
only too much civilization.
Art is barbarious.
I don't know
what your opinion is.
It's the same as yours.
That's what they all say.
But nudity scares them
sooner or later.
My friend'd like to stay
alone with you.
He's right. Art is loneliness.
She accepted to see me
the next day.
Tomorrow, when
and where I choose!
Delighted...
This disgusts me.
We should have met outdoors,
in the eye of the storm,
far from the prejudices of the world.
At the supreme moment,
lightning would have annihilated us.
Nothingness
is perfect nudity.
I'll render your
desires transcendent.
I want to see you naked.
Tangible nudity is the skin
which clothes the being.
I want to make love.
Love can't be made,
love is!
I had never seen
someone completely naked.
But I'm not naked.
You see,
I have only one orifice.
I do everything with my mouth.
I wanted to escape,
but she had it set up.
I had to do things
I'll tell you someday.
Despite my growing disgust,
I couldn't help coming back
to Mathilde night after night.
A week later, everyone
was pointing at me.
Luckily,
the ship was leaving.
I couldn't get Mathilde
out of my mind.
She's engraved in my memory.
I saw her in other
women's gestures,
even in those of my comrades.
She even appeared
in my shaving mirror.
And later, only later,
in my dreams.
I began to drink to forget her,
but it got worse.
She appeared in every glass
I emptied,
staring at me with her fake eyes.
She half-opened her only orifice.
Until that fated day
I was able to forget her.
It was in Tampico, if I remember.
Or rather in Puerto Viejo.
I was attacked and hit on the head.
Thanks to a child, I didn't die.
With an old gun,
he frightened the aggressors.
When I came to,
Mathilde didn't exist anymore.
Even her name meant nothing.
Who are you?
Antonio Morales' son.
I saw you being attacked,
but you didn't see me
when you looked into my house.
I don't cry when I see bandits.
My parents say I'm free
because I can go wherever I want,
within their domain,
but it's so vast
I'll never reach its edge.
I'm free and I'm a prisoner.
Morales'd seen a lot
and experienced little.
He thought books were
the opposite of life.
To prove him wrong,
I told him my story.
It's good to hear some Spanish.
All that you've told me
is there:
those writers have already
written your story.
They spent their lives writing it.
I want to live it.
Take me with you.
I promised to find him
a place on the ship.
We made a date,
but when he showed up,
we'd sailed.
You can't change a destiny.
You'll see.
Want a cigarette?
Not that one!
The middle one,
the others are contaminated.
Everything around is
always contaminated.
Pity the world's made up
of things around...
So everything is contaminated.
There are two kinds
of contamination:
solid,
like furniture, this ship...
gaseous,
the air, the wind...
Only one thing is pure:
Our Lady, the sea and some alcohol.
The rest is infected.
I'm seeing her today.
I don't know if mother
wants to see you.
The 1st Officer hid a stowaway
in his cabin.
Mommy!
Everyone needed a mother,
so he rented his.
Hello, Mom.
A little chap wants to see you...
Have a good time!
I thought I had met a person
able to explain
the meaning of life.
Who are you?
A...
Nothing?
Where are you from?
Nowhere.
You must come from somewhere.
Valparaiso...
From Valparaiso?
From the North?
From the South?
Yes, the South.
Peasant blood...
What do your parents do?
I don't know.
My mother sews.
Service of provision...
What were you doing
in Valparaiso?
Nothing.
Drinking.
Lumpenproletariat.
I wanted to see her every day.
- Where are you going?
- To see Our Lady.
It's very expensive.
I'll pay.
I've already paid for your excesses.
I know you still owe
a lot of money.
- Sooner or later, you've got to pay.
- I keep my promises.
I don't believe it.
I'll find the money.
They all say the same thing.
Ghosts have told me their stories,
you know,
and yet I don't believe it.
Once I saw some flying saucers,
yet I don't believe it.
Once I saw land coming out
of the sea.
Next day, it was all gone.
I don't get it.
I don't believe it anymore.
People came to pay
off their debts,
yet I don't believe it.
The only thing I believe in
is this!
And in Our Lady.
The 1st Officer stopped me
from seeing my mother.
I felt repudiated. I rebelled.
I did things that I regret today.
Maybe I already told you,
but to get on the boat,
you had to kill on land
and on sea.
It was the secret rule.
I obeyed it unknowingly.
I spent 2 weeks in chains.
When I was set free,
my mother had been made
to leave the boat.
She had written us a letter.
You will follow her precepts:
develop the memory
which belongs to everyone.
If someone remembers something
forgotten by the others,
let him forget it, too.
You will honor
her with understanding:
let everyone understand
the same thing.
And if someone seems to understand
something the others don't,
let him admit his ignorance.
You will honor her with feelings:
you will love
and hate at the same time.
You will honor her
with imagination:
invent new ways of being
and acting together.
Never forget that memory, feelings,
imagination and understanding
must be used
for an honest and productive life.
To pass the time,
we told stories.
We even had contests
where I always won.
Do you know the story
of the albino twins?
Of the gray snakes?
Of the flying rabbit
who kills newlyweds?
Never mention rabbits on a boat!
Of the crying bull?
Of the living dead?
- Of the mother with her children...
- Stories... Stories!
I came back to the house.
It was shut.
Neighbors told me the story...
Several years ago,
a mother and her daughter
were waiting for a sailor.
One day, he came back.
He was crossing the street
to embrace his mother
when he was run over by a truck.
Then the mother and his sister
starved themselves to death,
in the house.
Then,
other people wanted to move in
because the house was haunted.
Three men died there.
I spent a night in the house
with three ghosts.
With my stories
I even managed to scare the ghosts!
I know a ghost story.
A real one!
It happened to me
when I was a young sailor.
When I got to the freighter,
everyone was dead...
A ghost freighter.
That's all?
It's too short to be a story.
Maybe it's not a story,
but it's a true ghost story!
A few days later, in Dakar,
I met an old black doctor.
He knew the Bible by heart,
and also
the secret Testament
where God says
the Blacks will become
His Chosen People.
He taught me many things,
everything.
I called him "Father"...
I never paid a lot
for luxury items.
Bread is expensive,
but a whole city
with its palaces, its shops,
can be bought with a single coin
if you know how to choose
the currency and the time.
Even though he was among
the chosen
he didn't know
the name of his people,
because he'd been brought
to Dakar as a child.
I wanted to give him some money,
he was so poor.
This is for you...
That's a lot of money,
and yet, not enough.
If you want to help me,
bring me, but don't ask me why,
three Danish crowns.
Why can't I ask you why?
The answer'd be too long
because each event of my life
is part of my explanation.
To explain one minute
of my life,
I'd need a whole day.
To explain my whole life,
I'd need an infinite number of years.
Curiously,
this infinite number of years
would be totally found
in this single instant of my life
that we will share
if you bring me
three Danish crowns today.
I went straight
to the captain's cabin.
He was sleeping,
but I knew
he was singing "Ode to Joy".
I need three Danish crowns.
I'll pay you back.
Three crowns?
You said three crowns?
We anchored
in many little ports.
No one shared my joys and cares.
I became gloomy like
my unfortunate comrades.
Sometimes, I'd stop a passer-by
and treat him to a drink,
while I told him my story.
This stopped only a month ago.
It seems like yesterday.
The captain called me.
Without reminding me of my debt,
he simply asked me
to play cards.
We played all night long.
By dawn, I'd won
most of the money in the safe.
You've won about
how much you owe me.
Now, choose.
You keep this money,
or pay me back.
I want to keep it, I need it.
I'll pay later.
We'll be in Antwerp soon.
I want to buy me a bar in Antwerp.
With the rest,
I'll send for my mother,
the black father from Dakar,
my son from Singapore,
the dancer from Valparaiso,
the seamstress
from Buenaventura.
So be it!
Look here!
"Your" letter goes there.
I'll begin weaving this part
in a few weeks.
I bought a bar,
I sent for my family.
20 years time seemed
to have been written on their faces.
My son hadn't changed.
My wife had suffered
from my absence.
My two brothers
from Tangiers were rich.
The kid from Tampico had drowned.
The black had died
10 years before we met.
The "Femme fatale"
was still beautiful,
mean and treacherous.
Then,
I decided to be happy.
Last night, a company rep
brought me a letter
from my captain.
He demanded repayment
of my debt within 24 hrs
in the same currency he'd given me.
I gambled
and I won enough to pay.
Today, I changed this money.
But I still need
3 Danish crowns.
Everything comes to its end.
What do you mean,
"everything"?
You're looking
for 3 Danish crowns.
It's the only thing
I need in this world.
I'll be the one
from the here-after.
Let's look for these crowns together.
Follow me.
Let's get out of here.
I already know
where you're taking me.
The letters!
The spots...
No matter what shape
those spots take,
we'll always be reminded
of the image we have.
The world is poor.
It's a mix of lines
and curves, squares, circles,
plus the misleading conviction
that we're surrounded
by all these forms.
The world has two dimensions!
Currency...
Currency...
I had them in my pocket
all the time.
Our presence here is gratuitous,
like most of the things in life.
The first...
The second...
The third...
You promised me a job
on the ship.
You promised me, so pay up!
I listened to you patiently.
If you want it, earn it!
I found the coins...
If you want my job, earn it.
But I already did!
You can't just "become" a sailor.
You have to deserve it.
It's not given to just anyone.
You owe me this job. Pay up!
Can I go piss
while you're talking?
I'll only be 5 minutes...
May I?
No one's ever made fun of me!
Please excuse
my slightly unusual reaction.
I swear...
It's not my nature...
It's the first time...
I did that.
It's the first time... believe me.
If all the jerks spread their wings,
we'd never see the sun.
Everything you told me
about Valparaiso
was really beautiful.
Really beautiful.
But the worms oozing out...
That was disgusting!
Disgusting!
That was poetry! True poetry!
That's disgusting!
You always need a living sailor
on a ship full of dead.
That was me.
Subtitles: Paul J. MEMMI
let's just say that
we weathered a storm
before arriving
in the West Indies.
Three Crowns of the Sailor
On the night of July 25, 1958,
I killed Ladislav Zukakevitch,
antique dealer,
my mentor, my master in the art
of polishing diamonds,
my tutor
at Warsaw Theological School.
I got nothing out of this crime,
except the ring
he offered me many times,
several hundred marks,
a collection
of old coins, of no value,
a long letter where he advised me
to leave the country.
It was the last piece of advice
among others he'd given me,
and one I had to follow.
Tadeusz, student,
referring to himself as "he",
walked straight for the
first train to Warsaw.
Being in the streets
after midnight
was in itself suicidal.
Wandering aimlessly,
he heard echoes of a scuffle.
He thought a stray bullet
whizzed past his head.
It should have killed him,
but once again,
fate granted him that inch
which definitely spared him
a relieving death.
Then he saw the sailor.
What're you looking for?
You.
At this time of night?
You have a pass?
Do you?
My case is different.
I need money.
I knew it.
Just a little.
I knew it.
I've got plenty on me.
That's too much.
Those pre-war marks have no value.
I've got money, too.
Let me treat you.
At this time? Where?
Here, or over there. Why not?
I'm a sailor.
We sailors, we know places...
Don't worry.
There are places... and places.
I must go.
You know I don't have a pass.
There're places only sailors know...
That's what they say.
I've got to go.
Too late.
I need you, er... you need me.
Why'd I need a drunken sailor now?
Why'd a poor sailor
need to help a student in trouble?
Why him? Why not another?
Why should he help him flee tonight?
Why should a student trust
the first stranger
claiming to protect him?
Why should a discerning stranger
share his last hours
with a sought-after delinquent?
You look like an interesting person.
Thank you.
I need money.
I knew it. I've got money.
- Marks...
- Worthless!
That's not so important.
Isn't money everything in life?
I need 3 Danish crowns
now... before sunrise.
Would you have them?
Who knows? I wish I knew.
You must go. True or false?
Before sunrise.
There's a job on my ship.
My job.
It'll cost you 3 Danish crowns.
I think I can find them.
Let's talk about it.
Do you believe in the here-after?
You mean another life?
- I said the here-after!
- Let go!
No I don't.
Let me tell you first off,
I'm an atheist.
My story should interest you.
It's...
about the here-after.
I think it's a good story for you.
- I don't think so.
- Yes, it is.
I think it's a good story for you.
Besides, it's a story...
you'll have to listen.
That's...
- the price, you know...
- I see.
It's the price of the job
on the ship.
That's cheap.
Yes, you're right.
That's the price... plus...
Shit, I don't remember...
plus 3 Danish crowns.
Yes, 3 crowns.
Is that all?
The student, referring
to himself as "I" when bored,
listened to one more story.
One of those stories I loved
when searching from bar to bar
for the ship
for the ship to take me away.
It all started in Valparaiso.
Broke, I was looking
for a job on a ship
like hundreds of others,
looking for anything
that would take them away.
Everyday, down in the harbor,
long lines left no hope for work
for several months, or even years.
The same thing, day after day...
Days of waiting with nothing to do.
It seems like yesterday...
One man couldn't stop
himself from lying.
Nothing he said was true.
All he seemed to be was unreal.
Nothing about him
fit what one could call normal.
Moreover, none of his anomalies
fit what one could call eccentric.
On the docks,
they called him the Blindman.
May I die if it's not true,
if my days are not already numbered.
It means you're in good health.
A drink?
How're you gonna pay for it,
my friend?
Here, take it.
You pay,
so they'll have nothing to say.
Some advice:
- never take money from others.
- Especially from you!
You've been warned.
Give me the money back.
Take it.
With it...
I'll buy you a beer with it.
Everyone here knows
that I'm buying you
a beer with your money.
- How do you know?
- I know it,
but I don't believe it.
Some advice: never give
money to anyone
without something in return.
For the money you gave me,
I'll tell you something...
tonight in the port,
there's a job on the Funchalense.
Don't believe me.
Never trust people like me.
I don't believe you.
Don't stop mistrusting me later on.
Am I to believe there's really
a job for me?
No one believes it,
anyway, I've done my duty.
This type of information...
is worth at least three beers.
As you like.
Waiter, 3 beers!
We drank all afternoon.
I fell asleep.
An old sailor woke me up.
Someone's waiting for you.
Don't believe it.
It's only red paint.
For fun, someone...
put some red paint on me.
There were 5 of them.
They wanted to get away.
The Blindman tricked them.
He promised them a job
on the Funchalense
which had left over a week ago.
Is that you?
No, it's something else.
Wait for me!
I've got something to tell you.
The old man wanted
to tell me another story.
He didn't stop talking for 2 hours.
15 years ago, I landed in this area.
In Bilbao,
there's a replica of this area.
Over there...
The Texas Bar
is called there La Estrella.
It's got the same number of tables.
On a similar lamp,
3 rebels were hung in Singapore.
Every year,
I light candles for them.
I ignored him.
I didn't even look at him.
I could only think
of the Blindman's death.
When I wanted
to say goodbye to him,
he was no longer there.
I realized I had been
wandering alone for hours.
Yet, I could have sworn
I'd heard his voice.
It was then, in front of me,
I saw the Funchalense
for the first time.
The ex-Socrates 4, Athens...
The ex-Flora, Mondrovia...
I almost turned and walked away.
But I couldn't.
Help yourself...
Cheers!
Would you point out a place
on the map?
Talara.
That's correct, my friend...
if I can call you that.
I've never been on the open sea.
Those are not really voyages...
only little jaunts...
Do you have a job for me?
I mean, a job for a sailor
out of work?
Of course!
Who'd go out on such a boat?
I like it.
Could you point out another place?
Tour.
Incredible!
Halifax.
Close.
An other, and another one...
- Bastia...
- Wrong!
Koo-Loong.
Maybe, but valid.
Bring your papers and duffel bag,
we sail at dawn.
Son, what's wrong?
You're white as a sheet.
- What happened?
- I walked around the docks.
You met some friends.
You wasted your time
drinking with them.
Without deserving it,
you got a job on a ship
that'll take you away forever!
His eyes are blood-shot.
He's blue!
Mother, I'm leaving.
I shove off tonight.
God only knows if we'll see
each other again.
Are you afraid of leaving?
You've got a forced laugh.
You see this ring?
Bring me another one.
A better one...
If you have time,
find me a necklace,
like the one
my next-to-the-last fianc gave me.
Like the one I threw away,
in the canal.
Bring back at least two bicycles,
and some of the coffee
we used to drink.
Now, look at me...
kiss me and don't forget me.
Mother woke the neighbors,
they brought wine and guitars
for the farewell.
I'm your sister's fianc.
I like her very much.
Now that you're leaving,
I'll be the only breadwinner
in your family.
I accept this duty.
I ask nothing for this sacrifice.
Besides, I love your sister,
but you should know
you're making us rush into it.
The least a globe-trotter could do
is to make an effort...
Think of me...
That's my only request.
- Think of me once a week.
- I promise.
That's what they say...
but then forget.
Do you remember the first time
you heard "apple"?
- Neither do I.
- Does that bother you?
Not really.
But everything is a lie.
Remember me, and I promise
to forget everything.
- Would you like a doll?
- Three, no, five!
- A baby carriage?
- Eight, no, two!
- A bicycle?
- I don't know.
- A record player?
- I don't know.
- A boat?
- I don't know.
- A train set?
- Yes, a train.
You'd like a train.
What does she want?
I don't know.
Son,
the queen has arrived.
She's waiting to dance with you.
I seem to still be
hearing her voice.
Mother said she was the prettiest.
She came to dance
the last waltz with me.
I know it's my fault
that you're leaving.
All the boys my age are leaving.
It's my fault.
They only see my beauty.
They don't see I'm only beautiful.
Look, they're hiding as usual.
It's good you're going.
You'd end up killing
yourself because of me.
You'll come back, get married
and have kids.
Maybe you and your wife'll die.
Your kids will be orphans.
But I'll be there to raise them,
because I'll never get married.
When you're only beautiful,
you're always alone.
Hear that?
That poor baker has
just killed himself!
See?
That's my destiny.
It's good you're going.
That bitch! She killed him!
The party was over,
Mother was sleeping
maybe dreaming of my return.
While everyone was singing.
I slipped away.
While leaving Valparaiso,
I wanted to write to my mother.
I wanted to write her
what I had never dared
to say to her.
For example:
"The night is starry,
"the stars are twinkling.
"I'm ready to forget
the slaps on Christmas,
"the beating I got on
my 10th birthday."
I forgave her for not having
given me a name.
I forgave her Valparaiso,
the nights with no electricity,
that time,
and all the other times,
when I lost the pen and the shawl.
I also told her...
that I loved her.
This was my first letter.
My first friend
was the Impersonator
who imitated everyone,
dead or alive.
So, you've left your little fiance?
We all have a little fiance.
Why?
- It's not the same, I hope!
- What do you mean?
We all have the same little fiance.
We call her
"The little fiance from America".
She's very pretty, very beautiful.
Mine's already forgotten me.
She forgets us, too.
She's got amnesia.
- Mine never loved me...
- She loves no one.
Maybe she's not the same one,
but she's the same.
We're all the same.
That's why I have this...
I keep looking at my photo.
This way,
I can't forget what I look like.
I've seen you somewhere...
No, not me, it's the other.
It's the same thing.
We're all the same.
We'll all end up in the same place.
Don't stare,
or you'll end up like me.
Like my so-called best friend,
who lost himself,
like everyone else.
I was his best friend,
because...
I loved him
better than I loved myself.
This friend in question...
he messed around with my fiance
who I loved more than anything.
I realized that the voice I heard
belonged to someone I thought dead.
You know whom I'm talking about...
You've surely guessed
what I was thinking about:
we're all dead here.
This is the other life.
But how can they lift
the heavy crates?
Break their necks?
And how can they eat?
They eat in the here-after?
Who said it was the here-after?
The rest is easy to guess.
You've heard this story before?
Yes, but no one was eating in it.
Eating's got nothing to do with it.
But, they were eating anyway.
We ate at different hours.
Whenever you'd go into
the dining room,
you'd see 3 or 4 guys snacking.
Sometimes, they'd be crying
in their soup,
salting it with their tears.
The only salt on board
was smuggled on.
Inspection! Everyone up!
Sometimes the captain
and his officers
searched the bunks.
Inspection!
Move your ass!
What the hell is in there?
I'm sure he hid it there.
Captain, look, salt!
Those shitheads!
They hid the salt!
What is that?
Alcohol?
I'll have some.
It's sea water!
You shitheads! We got you!
Listen, Captain...
It's not my fault.
There're sick men on board.
They'll die without salt.
Don't laugh, Captain.
Captain! You never listen to me!
Don't laugh, Captain!
He's crazy!
That makes you laugh,
you assholes!
You take away life and our teeth!
I can't take this shit anymore.
I'm gonna beat it.
I'm gonna chuck it all.
But first,
I'm gonna get dressed up.
I don't want to croak
looking like this.
Those assholes, they'll pay for it.
My tooth!
Keep my tooth as a souvenir...
It's all your fault, Captain...
I saw him jump overboard.
Yet, the next day,
he was with the other men...
Did they fish you out?
Who me?
I saw you fall in the water...
It wasn't me.
I know you well, we talked
about your fiance.
That wasn't me,
that was the other.
Each had his own tune.
That's all they had.
I didn't have one.
I had less than nothing.
Until that day in Buenaventura...
We arrived early...
No one came to meet us.
I slept most of the day.
The singing woke me up at nightfall.
What you're saying is interesting.
Pity it's already been
said many times.
Pity I've already hit
another idiot like you!
Interesting. Where?
In a port, similar to this one.
- Interesting.
- Shit!
Same goes for this song.
I'm Marina.
I like everything but that.
I don't like you,
but I know certain things...
I'm Estrella, I don't like
the lights out.
I'm very mean,
but I have beauty spots.
Don't come if you don't like that.
I like them all.
Come to the back of the patio.
You'll say yes.
Come on. You'll please me.
I touch...
Let's go up there.
With or without lights.
Only one didn't speak to me.
She didn't even look at me.
She'd ignored me.
I knew she'd picked me.
Why are you making fun of me?
I know I'm not your type.
You'd never pick me.
If we were the only two left
in the world,
you'd despise me
And even if you didn't,
you'd stay with me,
because you're nice.
But I'm sure
you wouldn't touch me.
The only possible thing you'd do
is take my hand...
Nothing more than
a brotherly kiss
before leaving me forever.
Come with me...
You'd pretend to choose me
only because... you're polite,
and I'd be grateful.
But I could never accept
your kindness.
Normally, I should've brought you
to the Roosevelt Room,
or the Japanese Room.
Better yet,
to the Trafalgar Room.
Or to the Andalousian room.
But since you've been
so nice to me...
I might speak to you
in Maria's room...
In other words, my room.
Can you hear this song?
Can you hear the words?
That expresses everything I feel.
You want to give love
You're so alone in your pain
It's so beautiful! Listen!
It's wonderful.
You're so blind when you suffer...
A cold, a cruel cold...
Where men meet...
Frightening wave of my love
Holy shit! That's great!
By the way,
why are you chewing gum?
By the way?
It's not me, it's another girl.
Of course, she's prettier.
They call here "By-the-way".
She's always saying it.
So, for the chewing gum...
Let's just say... it's you.
Can I be frank with you?
Please, go ahead.
Then listen closely.
There're some men,
not very many,
who've come here
and left screaming.
Maybe that's why everyone
laughs at me
by calling me
"The Virgin Mary".
Let them say what they like.
Everything I own is here:
a toothbrush,
a book, a missel,
a bottle of perfume,
the last letter from my father,
a record by Caruso...
Countless stockings I never wear...
And this shoe that I love above all.
Do you like that?
You know me and souvenirs...
Look!
I decided that you'd be there.
Touch if you want.
They represent all the men
who've come here.
You must know, once and for all,
I'm not a virgin.
You know, me and virgins...
Do coffins bother you?
Coffins?
What do you want me to say?
What's a coffin?
It's like any other bed.
- A bed?
- It's the same...
I guess... I mean, it's a thing!
A coffin is like a...
A boat.
That's it, it's like a boat.
A boat?
I don't know... Like a car,
A coffin is like a... car...
It's like a toothbrush, a shoe...
It's like a hat, a hankie.
Oh shit, I don't know!
A coffin is like a coffin,
that's it!
Anyway, I wouldn't leave
just for that.
Then I'll tell you my story.
Dad got one when he found out
I was going to die.
My agony lasted many, many years.
When I came to,
I had several new brothers.
I kept my coffin.
Is it that grave?
Is it that sad?
We made love.
She told me her story.
Always the same...
She was the only breadwinner...
Misery, the life of the poor...
She had to pay off one
of her father's debts.
She wanted to leave
for the big city with her brothers
and lead a decent life.
I had no money on me.
I went to the ship.
The men were sleeping,
barely breathing.
The safekeeper was up.
As if waiting for me,
smoking a cigarette...
Can you lend me some money?
- How much?
- Less than what you have.
That's already too much.
You could spare more than that.
Less than nothing
is still too much.
I'll pay you back.
Well, I hope so.
The problem is these bills
are family mementos.
You'll have to give
the same ones back.
- I'll never find the same currency.
- Sure you can!
A dollar is always a dollar,
a quid is a quid,
but a dollar is not a quid.
I understand.
Maria was waiting for me.
Others had wanted her
while I was gone...
the sailors knew they'd
never find a girl like her.
I'd had never thought
you'd give me the money I needed.
No doubt,
you're different.
Until now,
I thought there were only
dirty things in this world,
and nothing existed
beyond these walls.
Until now, I thought that everything
was a synonym of sex.
Do you hear the children in the yard
reciting the 365 names
of the masculine organ?
Count the money,
I must give the same ones back.
There's 30000 escudos here.
Hear that?
127 names of the female organ!
Count it!
7000 carabes,
4000 old lantaros.
9000 nationales...
4000 old lanteros...
9000 nationales, 20000 stars...
90 dollars...
4000 pears.
We sailed for several months.
I couldn't get along
with the crew.
They named me "The Other".
One night, I happened
upon a strange scene.
Some sailors were showing
their tattoos.
Each called his tattoo
"the Letter".
They wondered how many letters
were missing.
If the letter happened
to be the same,
they hugged each other
like brothers.
If not...
they'd be wary of one another.
They kept repeating
an old saying:
"Words are made of letters,
and songs of words".
This was a popular song
at that time.
The captain only liked Beethoven.
He sang "Ode to Joy" day and night.
No one else was allowed to sing it.
He constantly changed the words.
We often talked about him
and his tapestry.
I'll tell you later.
Sooner. Why not now?
Oh yes. I remember now...
- You, bastard!
- Yes sir!
We sailors,
we're strange beings,
but we have a heart.
On this boat, we're all one.
It's a big brotherhood.
It is necessary...
each one has his place.
You are one of us.
You be the letter "N".
You're already part of the story.
Which one A.M. I?
Several. A human being
is very complicated.
Do you claim to be
as simple as one letter?
This time, it was a long crossing.
We talked like the soppy
novels we read.
We spent endless nights
living other lives.
We didn't care anymore,
we slept all the time.
Until the day
I was in Singapore...
I was looking
for the famous brothel
when I saw a very young child.
He was reading.
I felt like a father to him.
I wished for him
a better life than mine,
a doctor perhaps.
There's not enough light,
you'll ruin your eyes!
Dr. Wepoyoung is explaining
that he doesn't need light.
He is the light.
He's furiously poetic.
I never get tired
of listening to him.
Let me introduce myself:
Arnaud de Prfontaine,
the French Honorary Consul.
What's a European doing
in such a neighborhood?
It's completely unusual
and furiously dangerous.
What are you doing
in the opium district?
I have good reason.
In this bitch of a city,
bitch in every sense of the word,
you can't find cigarettes,
especially Gauloises
I smoke six packs a day,
in a pipe.
If not, they'd swipe them.
Recently, the Consulate's
been invaded by thieves
and cross-word fanatics of all kinds.
It's furiously unpleasant.
How old is he?
He's older than he seems.
- At least 90.
- Is that true?
Obviously!
He's lived and will live
more years than you
and I will ever see.
But he's ill.
May I be ill like him!
He's getting younger.
When he doesn't eat,
he gets younger.
It costs me a fortune
to keep him from eating.
The least bowl of rice
makes him age a year.
I wasted infinitely precious years
maintaining Dr. Wepoyoung
in this state.
10 years of effort
reduced to nothing!
Alas, I'm being transferred
to Porto Galiegos
where I'll waste
my precious time
with Brits
whose beastliness is known
and with Argentines.
I'll leave the doctor to you
since you're
furiously attached to him.
The Consul recommended
two orphans to me.
To my great surprise,
I realized they knew my son,
the doctor.
The French Consul sent me.
They didn't want to tell me
how they'd met him.
I only asked them
to take care of him.
I wanted to know
how much it'd cost me.
I don't understand.
I understand less and less.
I see...
They asked a nominal fee
as he barely ate a thing.
I had no money on me.
I went back.
On board, I met the 1st Officer.
Straight out,
I asked him for money.
He had ready
the exact amount I wanted.
How had he known
what I didn't know?
And we sailed throughout the world.
Sometimes I seemed
to be living in another body.
Until I finally woke up
in the body of an other.
I wanted to look in the mirror,
I found myself on the deck.
I hit a door and felt nothing.
Many other feelings overtook me.
The wind took my breath away,
even though
I was completely sheltered.
I could at last see myself
as I reached the deck.
I tried very hard
to look at myself,
and get to the place
I was standing.
The body I was living
in wasn't obeying me.
I steered my body, clumsily.
I steered the body
that I had usurped
for an instant.
My body was pushing me
to the depths...
I was in two places
at the same time.
That would be the end of me.
I had to gather my wits
as fast as possible.
But where was I?
I thought I saw myself
in 2 or 3 places.
Finally, emptiness.
I saw me through
the eyes of an other.
I saw me walking toward
the water, ready to jump.
An unrepressible thirst
was forcing me.
I could hear me say:
"Sing!"
I said to me and my body:
"Sing!"
Suddenly, a voice was heard.
A song broke out.
For once, everyone was singing
the same tune.
That's how the song saved us.
Too bad for the other!
May God find him among
the millions of tuna. Amen!
Perhaps it was this song...
The song...
Tell me about the letters first.
The other student
wanted to know, too.
I mean, the tattoos...
This one?
This one?
This one?
Continue...
Now, you'll tell me
about the shipwreck.
I was just about to tell you.
We weathered several storms.
We weren't afraid.
We were sure the ship
would never sink.
And the storms were our friends.
Each one had a name:
There was Lily, the singer,
Marguerite, the whistler,
Mimi, the bitch,
Belinda, the liar,
and then, the faithful Natacha
who came every December 15th.
Then, one day
they stopped coming.
Nothing happened
for a long time.
Now, I was really afraid.
One day,
when there wasn't even a ripple,
not even a breath of wind,
the boat sank!
The boat had begun to sink
and I saw disaster coming.
I tried to help the sailors.
No use!
They showed no fear.
They were resigned,
simply to die.
I thought of my mother,
of my love in Buenaventura,
of my son in Singapore.
I wanted to live!
I managed to launch
a lifeboat and get in.
Then I saw the ship.
I swear I saw it sink!
I swear by your mother, by your son,
and by your only love!
The Funchalense was engulfed
by a glassy sea,
under a full moon.
Oh yes, by a beautiful
summer night.
I drifted for 4 days.
On the 5th, I woke up to a mixture
of uneasiness and well-being.
Now that I think of it,
it must've been the salt.
Or maybe
the weight of a coin
under my tongue.
I really don't know.
I heard voices blaspheming:
"Star of the sea... Pray for us!"
The former is a tavern in Hamburg,
the latter is a brothel in Cyprus.
I'd gladly sell my soul
for a pint of beer.
I couldn't help not being surprised
by this weird scene:
the return of
the Vallon de Marseille,
the ex-Funchalense,
ex-Socrates 4.
I said to myself:
"What's life?
It's just an absurd wound."
By the way,
I must tell you about Tangiers.
What do you know about Tangiers?
Nothing?
Neither do I.
I got to know by chance
a lady who managed
to soften me up with
the story of her brother
who'd disappeared like me
in a hurricane.
Two men walked
towards us menacingly.
I decided not to fight back.
One was Ali.
He was mean, weak and yellow.
The other was Ahmed.
He was good, strong, resolute.
Men put out torches.
This knife is a torch
which puts out men instead.
This knife's the sun.
Your fear's its seed.
Your pockets are the trees,
and your money, their fruits.
Ali loved women,
Ahmed loved only one.
You're the house
where beauty lies.
Your mouth is the castle's door
through which my dove
has flown away.
Your nose is the tower
from where I saw the car
bringing my love to me.
Other women are drops of water,
you're the sea.
Drops run through my fingers.
My hair is wet,
and I float on you.
Help!
How'd I get in this light
on the brothers' side?
I don't remember.
I woke up in jail.
Some died, and the sentence
might be long.
They told me their sad story.
A loanshark swindled
them out of everything.
They killed him.
I swear he was really dead.
We became inseparable,
like three brothers.
They told me about their life
Ahmed thought he was Ali,
and Ali Ahmed.
Both believed the world
should be its opposite.
They acted as if the world
was what it should be.
The prisoners called
them "The Rebels".
One day, we were visited
by the man who taught me about lies
and meanness.
May God find him among
the 50000 unfaithful.
Open the cells!
He came everyday
to tell us about the truths.
He insisted, curiously,
that the cells be opened
and the guards taken away.
The father is God.
Very good.
Then, there's the son.
We finally understood
he wanted us out.
But first,
we had to get rid of him.
Thanks to him,
I'm here before you today.
May God explain the bellies
of the 100 million ants.
So, how many Gods weren't there?
Three...
No my children, that's not it.
First off, there's a father
who is God.
Then there's the son
who is God...
and the Holy Spirit who is God.
We promised
to make a fortune together
one day.
I went to the harbor.
I knew I'd find the ship.
It'd be too much to say
it was waiting for me.
Let's just say it was there
by chance, as usual.
I told you the sailors
were continually eating.
I didn't tell you
they never defecated.
Every time they thought
they'd catch me at it,
they'd make fun of me for weeks.
One day, I had the answer.
Your hand!
Me tell you guess!
A moujik is walking
around in a zoo,
near the walrus pool.
Two walruses are fighting...
Your hand!
...and when the moujik
passes near the pool,
they stop fighting. Why?
Go on, keep on talking.
Why do they stop?
Tell me the story!
That's when I knew
they couldn't defecate:
instead of sweating,
worms oozed out.
That's really interesting.
- Metamorphosis?
- Butterflies.
Yes sir, butterflies!
But it's not what you think.
The worms died,
butterflies came directly out
of the sailors' pores.
The ship was invaded by worms.
Everyone went up on the deck;
and then...
metamorphosis took place.
The butterflies were eaten
by migratory birds
who fell on the deck, poisoned,
the ones we ate for weeks on end.
The boat went back
to the Americas.
Valparaiso was seen off
in the distance.
I was looking forward
to see my mother again.
Some neighbors
pretended not to know me.
No one had heard of my sister
or my mother.
Carlos Alberto Cores,
traveling salesman...
You're looking for the party, too?
Don't tell me you don't
know anything!
I seem to be the only one
who's unfamiliar
with this story.
The salesman told me a story
that I didn't want to believe.
This house's been closed
down for many years.
You have to go around the back way.
A hallway leads to a tunnel
under the city.
You'll see, it's very beautiful.
Look!
Now, we're walking past
the room without windows.
From here, the Free Masons
run the world.
This room is located exactly
under the famous Jesuit pool
where they drown their sons.
Maybe that's why, in this area
the laws of gravity are inverted,
and we walk on the ceiling.
It's not too bad.
You get used to it quickly.
It's very good
for the heart.
To top it off,
it stimulates erections.
A year ago,
there was a party here.
Several years ago,
there was another party here.
We aren't the only ones.
Let me guess...
Like me, you met a girl
in the port,
she told you she was alone,
her fianc'd left.
You too,
you fell in love.
They invited you...
No, my case is different.
I'd just made a big sale
when I saw her.
Maybe because I have
a mother and a sister too,
when I see a woman crying,
I want to comfort her.
I told her tender things,
and all the jokes
that traveling salesmen know.
I even got her to laugh.
Without her fianc,
life had no meaning anymore.
I liked her,
I told her about the moon,
I said sublime things.
I alluded to
a Platonic relationship.
I evoked the loneliness
of night trains.
We kissed,
her icy lips burnt me.
Carlos Alberto Cores,
traveling salesman...
Delighted!
We were to meet
in the garden of her house.
I took a bath, put on perfume,
ate a steak and salad
so she wouldn't be disappointed.
She was waiting in a sexy negligee.
She wasn't bad, padded hips,
small but firm breasts...
Why should I tell you
what she told me?
Even I blushed.
When we least expected it,
we heard screams.
We came back to earth.
My son,
it's about time you got here!
You sister's with God knows who!
She's not a little girl anymore.
Is that what they taught you?
That's how the brother
and mother caught me
in the quite pleasant act of...
I narrowly escaped.
Now I'm back
to see her again
because this girl left
a thorn in my heart.
I discovered the house in this state.
It hadn't been lived
in for 10 years.
A drama must have
taken place here.
Now, it's haunted by ghosts.
What?
All my characters are ghosts?
That's scandalous!
Excuse me, I'm going
to take a piss...
Dear brother...
My beloved son...
fruit of my womb
piece of my flesh
esteemed and respected brother
my open wound, my torture...
Farewell, my brother.
I decided to return home that night.
You've come back! How dreadful!
Your sister couldn't
take the shame.
She committed suicide.
Why?
First her fianc! What despair!
What endless agony!
You'd never understand
your sister's languishing
day after day
and finally dead!
What a disgrace!
Think of your sister's shame.
And you added to it:
your fighting,
your life-sentence...
She wasn't strong enough to wait.
Now that you're free,
everything will be better.
She died yesterday.
I wasn't strong enough
to stay with my mother,
nor resist coming back the next day.
Are you on the demolition team?
No, I lived here before.
Really?
What's going on here?
We're to tear this house down.
They wanted a church,
but red tape...
So what are you going to put up?
A high obelisk in the middle
of a large square.
You must forget the horrors
of the past.
I used to live here.
I remember an old lady who waited
for her son's return.
I saw him, then...
Accident?
The butcher's truck ran him down.
Then his poor old mother
starved to death.
You sure it happened here?
Of course I am.
Is it yours?
No it's not.
It sure is yours.
For days I wandered
from bar to bar,
drunk, trying to forget.
That night,
I saw the "Femme fatale"
who plays with the delicate
heart of the sailor.
Here you forget all
the worries of the world.
The only true haven is art,
beauty...
Mathilda was nudity made art.
This cursed woman
made me suffer so much
that I forgot all my cares.
Yes, that's it...
or rather...
You see what I mean?
Was it that day?
I noted it down.
Woman...
I thought that...
I don't know...
I was feeling good,
no,
rather...
You see what I mean...
Yes,
that's it
or rather...
You see what I mean...
Nudity is an art.
Besides, art is only nudity.
He admires you like one admires art.
There's no more art,
only too much civilization.
Art is barbarious.
I don't know
what your opinion is.
It's the same as yours.
That's what they all say.
But nudity scares them
sooner or later.
My friend'd like to stay
alone with you.
He's right. Art is loneliness.
She accepted to see me
the next day.
Tomorrow, when
and where I choose!
Delighted...
This disgusts me.
We should have met outdoors,
in the eye of the storm,
far from the prejudices of the world.
At the supreme moment,
lightning would have annihilated us.
Nothingness
is perfect nudity.
I'll render your
desires transcendent.
I want to see you naked.
Tangible nudity is the skin
which clothes the being.
I want to make love.
Love can't be made,
love is!
I had never seen
someone completely naked.
But I'm not naked.
You see,
I have only one orifice.
I do everything with my mouth.
I wanted to escape,
but she had it set up.
I had to do things
I'll tell you someday.
Despite my growing disgust,
I couldn't help coming back
to Mathilde night after night.
A week later, everyone
was pointing at me.
Luckily,
the ship was leaving.
I couldn't get Mathilde
out of my mind.
She's engraved in my memory.
I saw her in other
women's gestures,
even in those of my comrades.
She even appeared
in my shaving mirror.
And later, only later,
in my dreams.
I began to drink to forget her,
but it got worse.
She appeared in every glass
I emptied,
staring at me with her fake eyes.
She half-opened her only orifice.
Until that fated day
I was able to forget her.
It was in Tampico, if I remember.
Or rather in Puerto Viejo.
I was attacked and hit on the head.
Thanks to a child, I didn't die.
With an old gun,
he frightened the aggressors.
When I came to,
Mathilde didn't exist anymore.
Even her name meant nothing.
Who are you?
Antonio Morales' son.
I saw you being attacked,
but you didn't see me
when you looked into my house.
I don't cry when I see bandits.
My parents say I'm free
because I can go wherever I want,
within their domain,
but it's so vast
I'll never reach its edge.
I'm free and I'm a prisoner.
Morales'd seen a lot
and experienced little.
He thought books were
the opposite of life.
To prove him wrong,
I told him my story.
It's good to hear some Spanish.
All that you've told me
is there:
those writers have already
written your story.
They spent their lives writing it.
I want to live it.
Take me with you.
I promised to find him
a place on the ship.
We made a date,
but when he showed up,
we'd sailed.
You can't change a destiny.
You'll see.
Want a cigarette?
Not that one!
The middle one,
the others are contaminated.
Everything around is
always contaminated.
Pity the world's made up
of things around...
So everything is contaminated.
There are two kinds
of contamination:
solid,
like furniture, this ship...
gaseous,
the air, the wind...
Only one thing is pure:
Our Lady, the sea and some alcohol.
The rest is infected.
I'm seeing her today.
I don't know if mother
wants to see you.
The 1st Officer hid a stowaway
in his cabin.
Mommy!
Everyone needed a mother,
so he rented his.
Hello, Mom.
A little chap wants to see you...
Have a good time!
I thought I had met a person
able to explain
the meaning of life.
Who are you?
A...
Nothing?
Where are you from?
Nowhere.
You must come from somewhere.
Valparaiso...
From Valparaiso?
From the North?
From the South?
Yes, the South.
Peasant blood...
What do your parents do?
I don't know.
My mother sews.
Service of provision...
What were you doing
in Valparaiso?
Nothing.
Drinking.
Lumpenproletariat.
I wanted to see her every day.
- Where are you going?
- To see Our Lady.
It's very expensive.
I'll pay.
I've already paid for your excesses.
I know you still owe
a lot of money.
- Sooner or later, you've got to pay.
- I keep my promises.
I don't believe it.
I'll find the money.
They all say the same thing.
Ghosts have told me their stories,
you know,
and yet I don't believe it.
Once I saw some flying saucers,
yet I don't believe it.
Once I saw land coming out
of the sea.
Next day, it was all gone.
I don't get it.
I don't believe it anymore.
People came to pay
off their debts,
yet I don't believe it.
The only thing I believe in
is this!
And in Our Lady.
The 1st Officer stopped me
from seeing my mother.
I felt repudiated. I rebelled.
I did things that I regret today.
Maybe I already told you,
but to get on the boat,
you had to kill on land
and on sea.
It was the secret rule.
I obeyed it unknowingly.
I spent 2 weeks in chains.
When I was set free,
my mother had been made
to leave the boat.
She had written us a letter.
You will follow her precepts:
develop the memory
which belongs to everyone.
If someone remembers something
forgotten by the others,
let him forget it, too.
You will honor
her with understanding:
let everyone understand
the same thing.
And if someone seems to understand
something the others don't,
let him admit his ignorance.
You will honor her with feelings:
you will love
and hate at the same time.
You will honor her
with imagination:
invent new ways of being
and acting together.
Never forget that memory, feelings,
imagination and understanding
must be used
for an honest and productive life.
To pass the time,
we told stories.
We even had contests
where I always won.
Do you know the story
of the albino twins?
Of the gray snakes?
Of the flying rabbit
who kills newlyweds?
Never mention rabbits on a boat!
Of the crying bull?
Of the living dead?
- Of the mother with her children...
- Stories... Stories!
I came back to the house.
It was shut.
Neighbors told me the story...
Several years ago,
a mother and her daughter
were waiting for a sailor.
One day, he came back.
He was crossing the street
to embrace his mother
when he was run over by a truck.
Then the mother and his sister
starved themselves to death,
in the house.
Then,
other people wanted to move in
because the house was haunted.
Three men died there.
I spent a night in the house
with three ghosts.
With my stories
I even managed to scare the ghosts!
I know a ghost story.
A real one!
It happened to me
when I was a young sailor.
When I got to the freighter,
everyone was dead...
A ghost freighter.
That's all?
It's too short to be a story.
Maybe it's not a story,
but it's a true ghost story!
A few days later, in Dakar,
I met an old black doctor.
He knew the Bible by heart,
and also
the secret Testament
where God says
the Blacks will become
His Chosen People.
He taught me many things,
everything.
I called him "Father"...
I never paid a lot
for luxury items.
Bread is expensive,
but a whole city
with its palaces, its shops,
can be bought with a single coin
if you know how to choose
the currency and the time.
Even though he was among
the chosen
he didn't know
the name of his people,
because he'd been brought
to Dakar as a child.
I wanted to give him some money,
he was so poor.
This is for you...
That's a lot of money,
and yet, not enough.
If you want to help me,
bring me, but don't ask me why,
three Danish crowns.
Why can't I ask you why?
The answer'd be too long
because each event of my life
is part of my explanation.
To explain one minute
of my life,
I'd need a whole day.
To explain my whole life,
I'd need an infinite number of years.
Curiously,
this infinite number of years
would be totally found
in this single instant of my life
that we will share
if you bring me
three Danish crowns today.
I went straight
to the captain's cabin.
He was sleeping,
but I knew
he was singing "Ode to Joy".
I need three Danish crowns.
I'll pay you back.
Three crowns?
You said three crowns?
We anchored
in many little ports.
No one shared my joys and cares.
I became gloomy like
my unfortunate comrades.
Sometimes, I'd stop a passer-by
and treat him to a drink,
while I told him my story.
This stopped only a month ago.
It seems like yesterday.
The captain called me.
Without reminding me of my debt,
he simply asked me
to play cards.
We played all night long.
By dawn, I'd won
most of the money in the safe.
You've won about
how much you owe me.
Now, choose.
You keep this money,
or pay me back.
I want to keep it, I need it.
I'll pay later.
We'll be in Antwerp soon.
I want to buy me a bar in Antwerp.
With the rest,
I'll send for my mother,
the black father from Dakar,
my son from Singapore,
the dancer from Valparaiso,
the seamstress
from Buenaventura.
So be it!
Look here!
"Your" letter goes there.
I'll begin weaving this part
in a few weeks.
I bought a bar,
I sent for my family.
20 years time seemed
to have been written on their faces.
My son hadn't changed.
My wife had suffered
from my absence.
My two brothers
from Tangiers were rich.
The kid from Tampico had drowned.
The black had died
10 years before we met.
The "Femme fatale"
was still beautiful,
mean and treacherous.
Then,
I decided to be happy.
Last night, a company rep
brought me a letter
from my captain.
He demanded repayment
of my debt within 24 hrs
in the same currency he'd given me.
I gambled
and I won enough to pay.
Today, I changed this money.
But I still need
3 Danish crowns.
Everything comes to its end.
What do you mean,
"everything"?
You're looking
for 3 Danish crowns.
It's the only thing
I need in this world.
I'll be the one
from the here-after.
Let's look for these crowns together.
Follow me.
Let's get out of here.
I already know
where you're taking me.
The letters!
The spots...
No matter what shape
those spots take,
we'll always be reminded
of the image we have.
The world is poor.
It's a mix of lines
and curves, squares, circles,
plus the misleading conviction
that we're surrounded
by all these forms.
The world has two dimensions!
Currency...
Currency...
I had them in my pocket
all the time.
Our presence here is gratuitous,
like most of the things in life.
The first...
The second...
The third...
You promised me a job
on the ship.
You promised me, so pay up!
I listened to you patiently.
If you want it, earn it!
I found the coins...
If you want my job, earn it.
But I already did!
You can't just "become" a sailor.
You have to deserve it.
It's not given to just anyone.
You owe me this job. Pay up!
Can I go piss
while you're talking?
I'll only be 5 minutes...
May I?
No one's ever made fun of me!
Please excuse
my slightly unusual reaction.
I swear...
It's not my nature...
It's the first time...
I did that.
It's the first time... believe me.
If all the jerks spread their wings,
we'd never see the sun.
Everything you told me
about Valparaiso
was really beautiful.
Really beautiful.
But the worms oozing out...
That was disgusting!
Disgusting!
That was poetry! True poetry!
That's disgusting!
You always need a living sailor
on a ship full of dead.
That was me.
Subtitles: Paul J. MEMMI