A couple of questions...
Keep your passport.
Could you sign here?
- Here? - Yes, there.
What a pretty pen!
A Parker?
No, a Mont Blanc...
Will you be with us long?
Mr. Albajara?
For a few days.
I'm not very sure.
I'd like... If possible...
A room overlooking the sea.
Why! Of course!
Leave it to me! I'll give you the best room.
A beautiful view!
You'll see.
Not at me.
At your service.
Excuse me...
I'll be there in five minutes.
Of course.
Let's see.
Nationality?
- American? - Yes, American.
Address... San Francisco.
A beautiful city!
Union Square...
China Town...
Fisherman's Wharf...
Good morning, Sir. Did you sleep well?
Have a good day.
San Francisco...
With its high hills...
...the cable cars...
What a city!
Have you been there?
No, unfortunately... What a pity!
But I've often seen it in films...
And without bragging, one does read...
One reads things from over there...
Room 302 for Mr. Albajara.
Fine, your passport.
Anything you may need.
Gervasio Losada, manager, at your service.
Not at all.
Allow me to say it again...
All of us are at your complete disposal.
Hotel Asturias...
Hello, Don Jose Luis. Of course.
Come in.
The closet...
The bathroom...
Shall I open the window?
It's the same, Dollars or Pesetas.
Very well, then. Pesetas and Dollars.
Call me if you need anything.
I will.
Your key.
But of course she's weak!
She starves herself to lose weight.
She lives on tea!
Nothing but tea!
"I'll just go have a cup of tea."
She refuses to eat anything.
One moment, please.
She won't listen to me.
Tea, always tea.
The result: She never comes to work.
I have to hung up.
She's your daughter.
Well... Why did you get married, then?
Us spinsters don't have those problems.
I'll call you later.
Pretty, isn't it?
It's a matter of life or death.
Don't say no...
We must dance the next dance.
My God, it's you...
I think we were the first ones to do these things.
Here, at least.
How did it start?
- From a film we saw. - Did it?
It did. A film about the South Seas
where people bathed naked.
I remember "Redhead" said:
"You girls would never do that
not even if you lived through ten reincarnations."
You're right.
And I said:
"Do you want to bet?" He laughed.
I said: "tonight".
"Alright." "At the Perlora beach."
There were you and that blonde girl...
Margarita.
And Covina, the one with the curly hair.
Very pretty.
But not as pretty as you.
You've always been the prettiest.
Really?
I remember that night was very dark.
There was no moon, no stars, nothing at all.
We could have worn tuxedos for all we could see.
There's an image I've never forgotten.
While we were bathing
the tiny mountain train went by.
We could see it perfectly.
With a light in every window.
They couldn't see us but we could see them.
There were some boys playing the guitar.
Just then...
...you called me.
Helena.
You were right behind me.
You caressed my face with blind fingers.
You kissed me.
When I opened my eyes, the train was gone.
It's one of those images
that always remains with you.
I used to see you in the afternoons
walking with girlfriends. You never looked at me.
Then, one day
"Redhead" told me: "Dance with her!".
But I didn't know how to dance. In those days
it was a tragedy.
I'd have preferred to limp.
Anyway...
"Redhead" said: "I'll bet you five pesetas."
"What if she says no?" "You lose, then."
"If she dances, the five pesetas Are yours."
So that's when I told you that famous sentence.
But whispering so that Margarita, who was eavesdropping, wouldn't hear.
"Hi.
This is a matter of life or death."
And without waiting for your answer...
I ran to the orchestra. I knew one of them.
A musician.
Avelino.
I asked him:
Could you play something slow?
I don't know how to dance,
and there's this girl I like a lot.
Don't worry. We'll play "Begin the Beguine."
"It's real easy."
Sure, easy!
When they started playing, I was dying of fright.
I came towards you.
You stood up.
The three worst moments of my life.
You never get anything straight!
The five pesetas were mine.
Every afternoon I saw this very shy boy.
That boy never said anything but "hello, hello, hello".
All I did was dream about that boy
who, besides playing on the Sporting soccer team...
...wrote poems for some magazines.
What could I do?
And my friend always answered:
"He likes you. No need to worry."
"He's too embarrassed to speak to you."
I thought: That's all very nice.
But why he doesn't speak to me?
He never asks me to dance.
One evening I found "Redhead" in the café
So I asked him: "Why doesn't your friend ask me to dance?"
He said: "I don't know".
"He is shy."
"Then why don't you push him a little?"
"Certainly not", he answered.
So I had to bribe him.
"I'll give you five pesetas if he asks me."
"It's a deal!"
As you can see, that coin was mine.
What a character he was!
The worst moment was when, before I could say yes...
...you darted off to the orchestra.
I thought: "He won't be back".
But you came back.
Before we started, you said, very solemnly:
"I promise not to step on your feet."
We danced all evening.
Afterwards, I walked you home.
The next day I gave you a record: "Begin the Beguine."
And I wrote...
Do you remember it?
"Antonio Fred Astaire."
Hotel Asturias.
From where did you say?
Yes, I hear you.
Yes, Mr. Albajara is staying here.
Who did you say it was?
Hold the line, please.
What is it now?
There's a call for Mr. Albajara.
Well?
It's the King.
What king?
The King from the Royal Palace.
Very well. Put the king through to Mr. Albajara.
- Did you say the King? - That's what I told you. The King.
This is Gervasio Losada, Manager of the Hotel.
Who's calling, please?
Hello?
It's me, Losada.
You see... There's a call for you from the King.
Put him through.
Yes, Sir. Immediately. But it's the King...
Hello. This is Juan Carlos.
Good evening, Your Majesty.
I've just been told you're in Spain.
I was most pleased to hear that.
I had been told that from Stockholm
you'd go straight back to the States.
A last minute decision, Your Majesty.
I want to thank you for your words of praise
about the Crown when you received the prize.
And to congratulate you for the Nobel prize.
Your Majesty, I only said what any Spaniard
would have said at that moment.
In my opinion, Sir, you're the man this country needs.
As for the prize, well, I was very surprised.
There were many... worthier candidates.
The Queen is a fan of yours.
I've only read a few but she's read them all.
"Robledo Theater” is my favorite.
You can imagine I don't have the time to read all I'd like to.
Yes, Your Majesty.
If you're planning to spend some time in Madrid, let me know.
I'll take you to a good "steak-house."
I'm sorry Your Majesty, not this time.
I'm leaving in a few days.
This is but a short visit.
If I may postpone it till next time...
I wish to thank you for your cables to Berkeley.
It was a pleasure.
Well, till next time. You know you have a friend.
- And a colleague. - A colleague? Why?
There was no doubt in Stockholm, Your Majesty,
that the next Nobel for Peace...
would be yours.
And very justly so.
Those are rumors spread by my friends.
Until very soon, Albajara.
Thank you.
This call has been one my life's greatest joys.
Your words, to be here in my country with my old friends.
Everything tells me that I am home.
So it is. Well, until next time.
Goodbye.
Goodbye, Your Majesty.
What did the King say to you?
Well...
He told me...
That he thanked me.
But not a usual thank you...
He really meant it.
Thanks a lot.
Notice the "a lot".
Well, back to work!
Answer that phone.
When you answered the phone, did you mention the hotel?
I said: "Hotel Asturias..."
Take a basket of fruit to Mr. Albajara.
And a couple of bottles of whisky and some sherry.
They usually like typical things.
And flowers!
One moment, Saturna.
Roses... Lilies...
Carnations... Don't stare at me that way!
Do you know who's called me?
Well, turn it off!
Turn off the T. V!
Do you know who your husband has been talking with?
With the King!
What do you mean, what king?
Our King!
I don't know why it should be me
who's never been more than a good substitute,
that should give this speech.
Especially when we have with us our dear President
and our beloved dean.
We all know why we are here today.
We have with us Antonio Albajara.
Our well known writer.
It is a great honor to have here with us,
not only for me but for all of us,
the author of many books
and winner of the Nobel Prize.
We now have our own "Nobel". Hardly anything!
But that's not the only reason we're glad to have him.
But also because we have with us the best soccer player
the Sporting team ever had and, I must add,
of Spain.
The young players that have made this team,
the best one we ever had,
should have seen how he stopped the ball,
at midheight,
with his left food...
and without letting it fall,
he threw it 40 yards further.
Antonio was a tough player.
But a noble one also.
A player that fought for the entire ninety minutes,
who had a hand instead of a leg.
What he also had
was magnificent rhythm.
Rhythm that simply broke the opposite team.
For me, and I'm not blinded by friendship,
Antonio has been one of our top players.
And his place...
will always be among the best players of the Sporting.
No more speeches!
Let us toast to Antonio Miguel Albajara.
For what he has been...
...what he is...
...and what he'll always be!
To the Sporting.
We haven't changed a bit!
And why should we?
This is the house I've always wanted.
- It's yours. - Thank you.
- Any news from your daughter? - My daughter?
Well. I'm not sure.
The last time I spoke with her was... let see...
On Christmas day.
She called me from Quito or La Paz.
A bad connection.
She said she was fine. Working.
She asked me how I was.
She's an archeologist, isn't she?
She told me her team would be in Europe this year.
You know she's always been very independent.
When her mother was alive,
I saw her more often.
It's alright.
She likes what she does.
And here we are.
And your children?
I hardly ever see my daughter. She's in Boston.
She married an engineer.
I see my son more often.
Something to do with films,
commercials, television... You know.
He works a lot.
He comes over and spends a few weeks with me.
He gets along better with his mother
than with me.
Did I tell you Francis and I were separated?
We haven't got a divorce because...
I think because we're too lazy.
We separated seven years ago.
She teaches at U.C.L.A.
I hardly see her.
Why did you come?
I've been asking myself that question for days.
Why are you here?
You're not one of those who said:
"Until Franco dies I won't come back, etc..."
- Because of Ventura. - Who?
Ventura Martínez Soto.
A friend.
A Chilean. A colleague in Berkeley.
A great economist.
One of the very best.
He was tall.
Strong.
Always laughing-
They called him "Mister Smile".
He had one of those clean faces
that lets you know...
that you're with someone real.
One day, in class,
he started staring out of the window...
Then he started speaking in Spanish.
He spoke about...
...his country.
Its landscape.
The people.
The tiny village where he was born.
Then he sang a popular Chilean song.
Until he collapsed.
A heart attack.
He died the next day. He never spoke again.
I've wondered for many months
why Ventura for a few seconds remembered
his world.
His past, a song...
The river he used to bathe in when he was a child.
What happened?
Well... Can't you read English?
Mailer, a friend in Berkeley
says seven months.
Sorenson in Stockholm gave me six.
Eight months.
More or less.
What are you taking?
How often?
Every eight hours.
Sometimes every six. It depends.
Will the end be painful?
It's silly, I know.
But it worries me.
I can't even stand a toothache.
Well...
Nowadays... it's pretty well under control.
The best would be
to go to a hospital when you don't feel well.
You'd be calmer.
They'd take care of you.
And that's a help.
How long can I work?
Three months.
Perhaps less.
I need more time.
I have to finish a couple of books.
And there's Francis... the children...
I want to do things well.
For that, one needs time.
Then, I'll rest.
It will have to wait.
Those players are much better than we used to be...
Number four, that tall blonde guy...
He's incredible!
He's an international player.
And number eleven...
Really great.
He's from Argentina.
I'm sorry.
I'm very sorry.
It's all right.
It's alright, "Redhead".
"How soon does pleasure disappear..."
"Why, when remembered..."
"is it painful."
This is the way the author,
in his poem to his father Don Rodrigo,
recreates with a poetical strength that I would call incomparable,
one of the thoughts most beloved by the Classics,
the Carpe Diem. In other words,
the fugacity of life.
The poet Pedro Salinas says that,
and I share his opinion,
that three thoughts lead Jorge Manrique
to draw his poems from tradition.
First of all,
the capacity to choose
what is most understandable in this subject...
...mortality.
Mr. Albajara is not here now.
No, I don't know when he'll be back.
Who's calling?
Very good.
Radio station SER.
For Don Antonio?
Taking it easy?
May I come in, please?
I'm in the bathroom.
I don't know what to do.
It's incredible, .
Just look! That many in just an hour.
National Radio of Spain.
Station SER.
Another program from the National radio station.
Two daily papers: El País and ABC cultural sections.
Television: You may choose your own time.
The local stations...
Can you answer it, please?
For God's sake... I told you not even one call!
Not even one call without asking me first.
The radio again...
Pratt's program.
The Vanguardia, the daily from Barcelona.
Station SER.
The "Cambio 16" magazine. The intercontinental station.
Television, again. They don't stop calling.
You haven't touched your breakfast!
I'm not hungry.
There's a team from Dutch television downstairs.
I told them they're wasting their time,
but they insist.
They won't budge until they speak with you.
Besides, they're rude.
You should have seen them smoking...
...no class whatsoever.
My friend... you're wonderful.
Let's keep it the way it is.
You haven't seen me, you don't know where I am.
Or when I'll be back.
There won't be any problems except for the Dutch TV.
I'll manage.
Don't worry. Everything is under control.
The car you were waiting for...
I've asked it to go round the block.
- To the back entrance. - Let's go than.
This way, please.
Such a beautiful day!
Mr. Losada.
Don't send me any more flowers.
Or whisky.
Or sherry.
No more roses... No more lilies.
No more flowers.
I just...
I understand perfectly...
But, believe me, it's just too much.
On the contrary.
I've got an idea.
- Are you married? - Yes, I'm a very lucky man.
I've got wonderful wife. Saturna.
- What? - Her name's Saturna.
Well, we're going to give all the flowers to your wife.
She'll just love them.
Very good.
A great solution. Very worthy of you.
- Mrs. Larrañaga's juice... - Don't worry.
I've taken the liberty to prepare...
a little something.
Not at all.
- Are you running away? - I am, I am.
- What's that? - I don't know...
- We have all we need... - Who can say no to Losada?
Who's Losada?
You see that man who's smiling and about to bow?
See? See how he bows?
And bows again?
Well, that's Losada.
The one and only Losada.
Let's go.
The Dutch people want to watch TV.
I've told them there's nothing on now.
But they're fiddling with all the buttons.
I'll solve this!
Tell Carolina to call the police.
ALBAJARA WAS BORN HERE, THE NOBEL PRIZE FOR LITERATURE
Careful! It's very hot.
I forgot about the chamomile.
But it's very week, mostly water.
- An american coffee. - It's delicious.
Ovideo says that Jupiter
Tired of ambrosia,
and of hearing Orpheus playing the lire...
...decided to visit the world.
He disguised himself as a beggar.
...and started to beg for food wherever he went.
But no one would give him anything.
He finally arrived to a poor hut, the poorest he had ever seen.
It belonged to an old couple.
The couple not only opened their home to him.
They didn't know he was a god.
But they laid everything they had in front of him.
Some olives, a few radishes,
a cabbage.
He told them he was Jupiter.
And that could ask for anything they wished.
Do you know what they asked?
"Don't allow us to ever be without each other."
"Allow us to die together."
Time went by.
And one day, when the couple was very old,
they were talking about their happiness,
the love they has always shared
they realized that they were being covered by leaves.
Then bark started to envelope them.
He hardly had time to tell her:
"Goodbye,
my dear friend.
Thank you for your love."
No sooner had he spoken,
they both became trees.
But they were joined for eternity.
The oak and the linden had only one trunk.
- Know what we'll do? - What?
We'll spend the night together like wanton lovers.
Yes, sir, wanton.
In a love-nest I have rented for this purpose.
Well?
At last, Ana Karenina...
I thought you'd never get around to it.
- What are you doing? - Nothing.
Did I wake you?
What are you writing?
Whenever I wrote a book,
an article, whatever.
I thought about you.
What would Helena say?
Would she like it?
Always.
Ever since I left in March of 1938.
Ever since.
You were behind each sentence.
Each word.
I started Robledo Theater for you while in France.
In the concentration camp
with the pen you gave me.
I had no paper,
so I wrote it on another book.
I wrote it again a year later, in Mexico.
And afterwards?
The States.
A college in the Mid-West.
A book that is finally published.
A better university.
A colleague named Francis.
Two children.
More universities. More books.
And you? What about you?
One summer, at the beach...
I met Ramon.
He was from Oviedo.
I fell in love again.
We couldn't get married.
He was already married.
He never lied.
He told me about it the very first day.
His wife was ill.
Paralyzed. He couldn't leave her.
I understood.
It was very hard.
But I understood.
He divided himself between the two of us.
Between the love he felt for me,
and the warmth and responsibility he felt for her.
Just like in a novel.
He was incredible.
Always laughing. Never a harsh word.
But I know,
especially now...
...that it was awful for him.
He loved me so much.
More than I loved him.
He died in 1962.
I love my children.
Very much.
Although I don't know how to tell them.
I also loved Francis.
I'd never be anything else but a writer.
I still love to teach.
It would not be fair
to say America had not been kind to me.
But it's true that
I prefer the first part of my life.
Do you know why?
Because you were there.
Hurry. Breakfast is ready.
How much sugar?
- Four lumps. - Four?
But don't stir it.
Your sugarless coffee is getting cold.
One can't ask for more. Not even in the movies.
Do you want butter on your toasts?
- Lovely sunny day. - It will clear up soon.
What are those pills?
Nothing.
A habit. One of our Americans vices.
Didn't you know?
We all take pills. There are many colors.
But I prefer orange.
You know...
America would not be the same without pills.
When do you leave?
When one's young, one never thinks that older people
fall in love.
I didn't either.
I thought people like us...
liked each other,
felt affection,
but were not in love.
That they wouldn't feel passion.
It's not true.
Men and women can love till the very last moment of their lives.
One only gets old when one doesn't love.
"Though nothing can bring back the hours of splendor in the grass,
of glory in the flowers...
we will grieve not...
rather find
strength in what remains behind."
It's beautiful.
Did you write it?
No, an Englishman did.
We've had a good time.
I always have a good time with you.
Your books are selling very well now.
What with the prize and all...
Here.
Thank you. Rest assured I'll read them with great interest.
That "Robledo Theater" is the one here, isn't it?
That's right.
- Thank you. - It was nothing.
Please take it.
Thanks again.
Well, don Antonio...
I hope to have you with us again soon.
You know that everybody here expects you.
Besides the Hotel Asturias, I personally, Gervasio Losada...
will always be at your disposal.
Anything you need...
Everything ready?
Everything's ready.
Now, let's see.
Dollars or pesetas?
It's the same... Dollars or pesetas.
I've taken the liberty to buy you some magazines.
Till next time.
Come back as soon as possible.
Are you sure you don't want me to go?
Well, "Redhead".
A gentleman.
What did he write in the books?
Let's see.
To my friend Gervasio
whose kindness made my stay so pleasant
And the date.
Saturna will like that!
And the other one?
To my friend Gervasio a lover of flowers, whisky...
... and the early fruits. - What?
Early fruits.
From his friend Antonio.
And the date.
He is real nice.
Come on! Back to work!
That telephone!
Go up to room 406...
And don't smoke!
To my friend Gervasio.
There it is.
My friend Gervasio.
Keep the change.
We're going to miss the plane.
You're not taking me?
We're not eloping?
Drink it before it gets cold.
Here.
But you must promise me something.
Don't open it before you get home. You promise?
I promise.
Who told you I was leaving...
...on that flight?
"Redhead".
This morning.
What else did he say?
Nothing.
Was he supposed to?
I'll close the gallery next summer
and go to San Francisco.
See you next year.
TO HELENA, THE ONLY ONE I NEED. ANTONIO FRED ASTAIRE.
GIJON - JUNE 1936
THANK YOU. THESE DAYS HAVE BEEN WORTH AN ENTIRE LIFETIME.
GINGER ROGERS - 1981
Dedicated to those who started living in the thirties
specially for their hope, love, enthusiasm, courage and faith.
To that interrupted generation. Thank you.