Genius (2017–…): Season 2, Episode 9 - Picasso: Chapter Nine - full transcript

Previously on Genius...

Olga Khokhlova.

Russian aristocracy.

She must be looking for
the Duke or Viscount.

I cannot let you in.

We are not married.

She certainly has
you under her spell.

You're a married man,
with a reputation to protect.

You spend your
days with your snob of

a wife pretending you
are an aristocrat.

At least I have not
abandoned my friends.



I am the only Madam Picasso.

Hey, Olga!

Someday I'm going to
paint the perfect painting.

I had no idea
you were so talented.

Kahnweiler's been
asking me for new works to

show, and I just...

Don't have the time anymore...

Go on.

Play the game you played
the night we first met.

Even when you missed,
you didn't flinch.

She is so happy
when you are here, Pablo.

Do you think Maya wants
to watch me cuddling Paloma?

Maya loves Paloma.

And how long do
you plan to keep me waiting?



It did not occur
to me that you were interested

in an old man.

You don't seem old to me.

Clear!

I don't understand why
you let these women hang on.

I should leave you.

Ridiculous!
Nobody leaves Picasso!

My hand in your
hair will sow the stars of

sapphire, pearl, ruby...

that you never be deaf to my desire...

my oasis and my gourd whence I aspire.

Your writing is exquisite.

It's not me. It's Baudelaire.

You're absurdly romantic, Paul.

And you, you don't have a
romantic bone in your body, do you, hm?

To you, it's just
photography, politics and sex.

Sex is just a game.

Lately, it bores the hell out of me.

All these great
men you've bedded,

not one of them has managed
to get his claws into you?

God no.

I get tired of them
in a matter of weeks.

You've never been in love?

Paul...

I can barely tolerate romantic.

I absolutely despise sentimental.

Dora, uh, love is the
most creative force in nature.

What you need is an Amour Fou.

A mad love?

No thank you.

It's what inspires
true artists like us.

You don't have
to explain it to me.

I understand the Surrealist
dogma as well as anyone.

A magical love, born
of a chance encounter.

'Fate.' Frankly, I think it's
a ridiculous superstition.

You are a goddess, Dora.

What you need is a God.

Do you have someone in mind?

Oh!
Gorillas are chasing us. Yeah!

Pablo, stop that!

What, what?

You're embarrassing yourself.
Have you no sense of decorum?

Oh. Andre, Paul!

You've come just in time.

Ah, oh, uh, Andre Breton
and, uh, Paul Éluard.

My wife. Olga Khokhlova.

It seems you forgot to
mention to your friends that

this is a formal occasion.

For God's sake, Olga,
who cares how they are dressed?

If you want to entertain adults,

you should learn to act like one.

Let's go to my studio.

It's the only place
she can't torture me.

"I am not a gentleman."

That is exactly why
you are our hero, Pablo.

It's intuitive, automatic.

Emanations from the subconscious.

Charged with eroticism,

born from the chance
juxtaposition of images.

This painting is everything
I've been writing about.

It's a masterpiece of Surrealism.

Andre has just finished
a collection of essays,

Surrealism and Painting.

We would be honored
if you would endorse it.

Maybe come to our next meeting?

I don't want to be labeled.

Surrealist, Cubist and Modernist.

What is next? Communist?

The Communists are
going to remake the world.

Besides, my work
lately is nothing but anger.

Bitterness.

No one wants to see that, really.

That's absurd.

You're the most important
painter in France.

I am stuck in a
golden cage with a woman who

cares more about chandeliers
and Persian carpets than

anything I will ever paint.

I should have known better
than to ever get married.

I need someone new...

Excuse me, Mademoiselle.

Uh, yes?

Um, you have
an extraordinary face.

I beg your pardon?

It was fate that you walked by.

Oh, what do you mean?

I want to paint you.

Oh, I,
I don't think so, Monsieur.

I am Picasso.

I'm sorry, what?

You have never heard of me?

No.

Should I have?

Um...

Recognize him?

You're famous.

In certain circles.

Now would you let me paint you?

Why would you want to?

My sisters call me an ugly duck.

Oh, that's absurd.

They're jealous.

Let me show you how I see you.

My studio is just
two blocks from here.

Only for a few
minutes, I have to get home.

You, your sisters
couldn't be more wrong about you.

You are magnificent.

Like a Roman statue.

That's a very special book.

Go ahead, take a look at it.

120 Days of Sodom by Marquis de Sade.

Have you heard of it?

Marquis de Sade destroyed
old-fashioned literature the

same way I have
destroyed the rules of old

masters of painting.

"Bestowing heartfelt kisses
on my mouth and eyes, he said,

'If I am to teach
you what to do in order

to give me pleasure,

'tis only fair that at
the same time I teach you

what to do in order to receive it.'

He then placed his hand upon my..."

I don't want to make you late.

Why don't you come back
and see me again tomorrow?

I still live with my mother.

She, she might not approve.

You seem
like an intelligent girl.

I am sure you can think
of something to tell her.

If you want to come, be
here at 3:00 in the afternoon.

Precisely.

Where have you been?

I'm sorry...

I went shopping and then...

I, um, I played tennis with Nicoline.

In those clothes?

Tell me the truth.

I met someone...

Who?

An artist.

He wants to do my portrait.

He's probably
trying to get you into bed.

For all you know, he's not
really an artist at all.

Oh, I-I think
he's quite successful, actually.

His name is Picasso.

Picasso?

By all means, let him paint you.

You're late.

I'm sorry, Monsieur Picasso.

And you must call me Pablo.

I promise
to always be on time...

Pablo.

Don't be shy.
You can look at it again.

Read out loud.

"She had very handsome eyes,

exceedingly fair skin,
and one of the most splendid

and plumpest..."

Are you a virgin?

Yes.

Then I will be your first.

Shh, don't laugh.

It's Amour Fou...

This girl, Geneviève.

She's so young and vibrant and...

It's different this time, Paul.

All my romantic adventures
have been ruined by friction

and-and suffering; Two
bodies coiled in barbed wire,

you know, chafing against each
other, tearing their flesh.

But with this one, it's been
all sweetness and honey.

She's a hive without bees.

She must be very good in bed to

elicit such poetry from
the great Picasso.

She makes me feel alive.

And Françoise doesn't?

She looks at me like I am old.

Anyway, I have a favor to ask you.

Of course, anything.

I have to sneak all the way
to Paris when I want to see her.

I need a place closer.

St. Tropez would be perfect.

I'll see what I can do.

Yes...

A flat, a house, a castle?

Thanks for helping
me watch the children, Kostas.

Well, maybe they
should take naps and we could

have some sangria.

Sangria?

You've been spending too much
time with Pablo's nephews.

Actually, I don't
like the way Javier makes it.

No, we do it better in Greece.

Didn't you have
a dissertation to finish?

I could go
back to Paris tomorrow.

All day long it's
mama this, mama that.

You need a little adult time.

Oh, I wish I could,
but when Pablo comes home...

I have a third child to look after.

Where is he anyway?

We barely
ever see him these days.

He's always dashing off
to Paris or St. Tropez.

The children miss him.

What about you?

You're right, Kostas.
The children need their nap.

And you need to get on a train.

Daniel...

Uh, it's very nice to see you,
I'm sorry, Pablo isn't here.

Well, that's
my good fortune then.

It gives me some time to see
what you've been working on.

Well, I'm afraid I don't
have anything new to show you.

I've been too busy with the children.

That's a shame.

I've been getting a marvelous
response to your paintings.

You're just being kind.

No, not at all.

I've sold three pieces
this month and...

do you know Janine Charrat?

The choreographer?

She's looking for a
designer for her new ballet in Paris.

I told her you would be perfect.

I've never designed
a set or a costume in my life.

Neither had
Pablo when he did Parade.

She loves your work, Françoise.

God that sounds like fun.

It's impossible.

How can you go to
Paris for weeks on end?

Who's going to take
care of the children?

Well, they have a father.

You know I cannot
look after them night and day.

I wouldn't get any work done.

Open the door
before I break it down!

What in God's name do you want?

You must get dressed.
We're going

to be late for dinner
with the Beaumonts.

No, you go without me.
I'm working.

You're always working.

You are never home
and when you are home,

you lock yourself in here.

Well, why wouldn't I?

All you ever do is complain.

Please, Olga, I'm working. Please.

Don't you ever
get tired of painting me?

Your face, in this light?

How could I ever get tired of that?

I'm glad
you still feel that way.

Now go and get cleaned up.

I have a surprise for you.

Do you?

I bought us
tickets to see Josephine Baker.

Yeah, well
it's a, it's a popular play.

We might run into someone who knows
Olga and what would I say to them?

So even after all these years,

this little flat will be the only
place we can ever be together?

Pablo, when are you
going to divorce her?

You promised me.

You know I would like nothing

better than to be
free from that woman.

But, but divorce is very complicated.

I love you...

but for now we need to
keep things as they are.

If Olga found out about you,
she would make life hell.

It's heaven...

Our own secret little Shangri-La.

Yes, I thought it was
a rather romantic little flat.

I'm delighted you like it.

We love it.

Thank you so much, Paul.

I owe you one favor, my friend.
Oh.

Monsieur Picasso, a-a few
questions for my readers, please.

Oh, not now.

Who's your pretty friend,
a new muse perhaps?

Get out of here,
before I break that thing.

Ah, Mademoiselle
Gilot, how may I help you?

I've come to collect
Monsieur Picasso's pieces.

I'm sorry,
they have not been fired yet.

But they should be ready by the
time he returns from St. Tropez.

He's in Paris, actually.

Oh, well.

The papers must be mistaken.

Mistaken about what?

I'm sure
it's just silly gossip...

What kind of gossip?

Well, if you must know...

they say he has been seen there in the

company of a striking young lady.

Ah, what are these? Costumes?

Mm.

I've accepted the
position with the ballet.

I'm leaving for Paris next week.

But I told you it,
it was not possible.

Well, if you can do
whatever you want, so can I.

Do what I want?

Uh-huh.

What are you talking about?

Your new girlfriend...

in St. Tropez.

How can you listen
to such ridiculous rumors?

There is no girlfriend.

Don't lie to me, Pablo.

After everything we've been through,

the one thing I've always
counted on is that we always

tell each other the truth.

Well, I, I am telling the truth.

And if I was with another woman,

it would be your own fault.

When was the last time you
showed me any affection?

That's hard to
do when you're never here.

Oh, I see. You're punishing me.

No. No, I'm rewarding myself.

Oh.

For all the
sacrifices I've made to your

art at the expense of my own.

It's my turn, Pablo.

My God, you are made of ice.

How else could a mother
just abandon her children?

I'm not abandoning my children.

I've spoken to Maya, she's
gonna come and watch them.

I'm only going away for two months.

They can visit me on weekends.

Who is she?

You've painted her
over and over again.

She's nobody,
just, just a model.

I won't be made a fool of.

I gave up everything for you.

My career, my country, my body.

I won't have myself and my child
humiliated by some harlot.

Humiliated?

You live like a Russian princess.

Get rid of her.

Marie-Thérèse.

What is it?

I know it's complicated,

but we must get married.

We have discussed this.

You know how difficult
that is and especially now,

Olga is just...

Pablo...

I'm pregnant.

Did you tell her it's over?

I want a divorce.

It was a, a wedding gift.

I never liked it, she can have it.

I'm told there's a second floor?

Yeah, but that's my studio.

Everything there belongs to me.

Monsieur Picasso,
"one half of all possessions"

includes any artwork that you own.

Um, But I painted them.

I'm afraid
the law is quite clear.

The divorce is off.

So you are
getting rid of the girl?

No.

Then what?

I am not going to let you get

away with half of my life's work.

I see...

God forbid you should lose any
of your precious paintings.

They mean more to you than people do.

Oh, I know you, Olga.

You would only sell them
to buy shoes and fur coats.

Do what you wish.

But I refuse to be humiliated
when the papers discover you

are having a baby with
your filthy mistress.

Paulo and I are moving
to the Hotel California.

At your expense...

I hope you and your new
family are very happy...

Thank you for
taking such good care of me

and little Maya.

Oh, of course,
you're my two girls.

Marie-Thérèse...

Marie-Thérèse...

The doctor said it's okay.

It's been two months.

We have plenty of time
while the baby's asleep.

Yes...

Is, is something wrong?

I haven't painted anything
since I have been living here.

I need to go back to my studio.

I thought
you loved the light here.

Yes, yes, I,
I, yes, but it's, uh...

different now.

It's not me, is it, Pablo?

I, I still inspire you, don't I?

No, no, no,
no, you, you mean the,

you mean the world to me...

It's just, uh, too
many distractions here.

I need to go back to my studio.

I have to.

Hey.

Dear Maya.

Papa will come see you
and Mama very soon.

You are an angel, Maya.
How many stories did it take?

Four, but
they're finally asleep.

Well, I don't know
what I would do without you.

You're a wonderful big sister.

They're wonderful children.

Obviously, Françoise
is a very good mother.

Good mother?

No, we have barely heard from her.

I'm sure she's quite
busy with the ballet.

Yeah, but her real
responsibilities are here.

She's taking advantage
of your kindness.

No, don't be silly.

I'm glad to help.

I want her to be able
to pursue her work,

just like you do, Papa.

But she can work here.
Nobody's stopping her.

She doesn't have to run
off to Paris to do it.

Instead of
complaining about her,

you should be her champion.

She's not like Mama.

She's more independent and if
you do not treat her better,

you are going to lose her.

Kostas, what?

Javier told me
you were working here.

Why didn't you tell
me you were in town?

I've been busy.

Is it going well?

It is, actually, it's, um,

it's thrilling to work with
so many talented artists...

Well, sounds wonderful.

What are?

Oh, I thought we
could have some sangria.

And you know where
to find sangria in Paris?

No.

No, I know a place
with a Chablis I can afford.

Merci.

So, let me guess, you left him?

No, why would you say that?

Well, it's the only
way I could imagine Pablo

allowing the mother of his children

to run off to Paris without him.

I didn't give him a choice.

Good for you.

I do miss the children though.

I finish work and I go
home to a quiet apartment.

If you're lonely,
you can always call me...

Well, we all know Pablo
does whatever Pablo wants.

Why can't you do the same?

Heraclitus said nothing remains still,

change is the essence of the universe.

All day on his knees,

before the rag so dirty
as it dribbles down.

Love seated in the
corner of the kitchen.

To amuse herself, she cuts her nails.

It's uh, bold.

Original, just like your paintings.

You are afraid
to tell me it's dreadful.

You see, I know I am an
amateur, but poetry...

Is the only way I can
express myself lately.

I, I haven't painted in-in months.

I, nothing moves me
anymore, not the light,

not Marie-Thérèse, nothing.

You need something
new to inspire you.

Let me guess.

Another Amour Fou?

No.

Actually, I was thinking...

another artist.

Do you know Renoir?

Of course, but I have always

despised his pretty paintings.

Ah, not the father, the son.

Now, he's doing some
very interesting work.

Cut!

Cutting, that's a cut.

Checking the gate, moving on.

Let's print the
last two takes, please.

So this is how
Charlie Chaplin does it?

Well, Chaplin's a genius...

Ah.
I can only hope.

Jean, is that, uh?

She's Dora Maar,
our set photographer.

Ah, you should meet
her, Pablo, she's fascinating.

Come, I'll introduce you.

Florelle is our lead actress.

Florelle, please meet Pablo Picasso.

Monsieur Picasso,

you're even more handsome
than your pictures.

And you are as ravishing
as you are in your films.

Even dressed as a laundress?

Especially
dressed as a laundress.

Why don't you introduce
me to your friends?

That went well.

He's easily
distracted, like a child.

I thought you said he was a God?

Ah, you'd think so
too if you got to know him.

I would have to meet him first.

And you will.
Just not today apparently.

Honestly, I can't understand

why you think we are so well-suited.

Because my dear
Dora, you are the two most

extraordinary people I know.

This is absurd, Paul.

Why don't you simply invite
us both to dinner instead of

contriving a "chance encounter"?

You know the rules of Amour Fou.

If it's arranged by you,

it's not exactly "fate" is it?

Ah, I'm just trying
to give fate a little push.

Well?

We've tried it your way.

Now, we are going to try mine.

What are you having?

Whatever you are.

Pernod.

Are you going to show
me your latest poems?

I've had a new idea.

No punctuation, and um...

What?

Reinventing painting wasn't enough?

Now you've got to...

You don't even flinch.

That is the point.

It's, uh, hypnotizing.

Dora! I didn't see you there.

Pablo, Dora Maar, the photographer.

Yes, I've, I've heard your name.

A Surrealist, yes?

You should see her work.

Intense, provocative...

Well, if it as
daring as she is, it must be.

Where did you learn that game?

Game?

This is quite serious.

I could lose a finger.

But one must
sacrifice for one's art.

Very true.

Perhaps you might be willing to
make a small sacrifice to my art.

What do you have in mind?

Come to my studio.

You have a most interesting face.

I want to photograph you.

I will agree to that.

But only if you allow
me to keep your gloves.

I would like a memento of the day
that fate put you in my path.

I have tried my
hand at photography but it's,

it's not for me.

Oh, no?

No, too unpredictable.

Not like painting where
the artist is in control.

Not a slave to the whims of the sun.

But the sun is similar to paint.

How is that?

At first you feel you must work

within its limitations, its quirks.

But with practice, you learn to
use those to your advantage.

You feel what it wants from you.

But paint I can touch.

I can move with a brush...

or my fingertips...

Mm-hmm.

But the sun surprises you.

Plays with you.

And film reveals
things that aren't uh...

obvious to the naked eye.

Maybe you would enjoy it a bit more...

if you gave up some of your control...

Françoise.

I wasn't sure you'd come.

Well, how
could I miss your debut?

I am your greatest champion.

Bravo!

Bravo, bravo.

How did you get back here?

I, uh, slipped
the doorman five francs.

Yeah, he should be more
careful because any scoundrel

could just sneak in here.

Your work is stunning, Françoise.

These are for you.

Thank you.

I'm, I'm so sorry, I have to
go, Pablo is waiting for me.

Well at least I
have one kiss to remember.

Oh, bravo.

I'm sorry I kept you waiting.

I waited two months
for you to finish the ballet.

I don't mind a few extra minutes.

But it will be wonderful
to have you home again.

Yes, I'm excited
to see the children.

Now you can concentrate
on being a mother again.

Is that the only
reason you want me back home?

No, no, of course not.

I-I only meant that the
children have missed you.

And so have I.

So, you know, it has been
a change for all of us not

having Mama to look after us.

Well, change is the
essence of the universe, Pablo.

Françoise, where are you going?

No, keep them open.

Look at me.

What's wrong?

Nothing's wrong.

I, realized Paul was right.

He was right that I
have never been in love before.

Dora, I already have a studio.

Not like this.

This place is perfect for you.

A place to start something new.

To forget about Olga and dinner
jackets and stuffy cocktail parties.

What do you think?

The light is good.

Did you know this
building is the setting for

Balzac's story
Le Chef d'Oeuvre Inconnu?

The one where the protagonist
Frenhofer is striving...

Trying to paint
the perfect painting.

You're right.

It would be perfect.

Dora, you know I cannot live with you.

At least not right now.

Pablo, I could
never live with you.

You would drive me mad.

You have come to your senses.

Yes, I have.

I knew you would.

No one understands you like I do.

Pablo, I'm leaving you.

Don't tell me.

Now you want to do an opera.

I'm not joking.

I can't live with you anymore.

Is there someone else?

Kostas.

My, my nephew's friend?

Is that who you choose to replace me?

An he's an amateur philosopher?

The last thing I
need is a replacement for you.

I need to be free, to work
and live the way I want.

I need to learn how to be happy.

I have made some
arrangements for the children

to start school in September in Paris.

We'll be leaving then.

We both know that
you will never do that.

Without me, what will your life be?

I don't know...

but it will be my own.

Well, then you
will be known as the

foolish woman who left Picasso.

Yep.

She must be out of her mind.

Those poor children being
kept from their father.

Yeah, but I am sure
she won't go through with it.

Here are the
pieces you asked for.

I don't think
you've met my cousin Jacqueline.

No.

It's an honor, Monsieur Picasso.

Jacqueline is very handy.

She has been a great help to me.

I'm sure she could help you, too...

if you do find yourself needing
someone to cook or clean.

Or anything else you may want.

Paloma, Paloma.

I need mine, Mom...

All right, we'll
get it, we'll grab it after.