INTERNATIONAL CRITICS PRIZE CANNES 1955
Screenplay by J. A. BARDEM Based on a Story by L. F. De Igoa
DEATH OF A CYCLIST
He's still alive.
Juan!
I'm frightened.
Why? Nobody saw us.
Are you sure?
It's late.
Yes, it's late.
- Will you call me? - Of course.
All right, all right.
They're making the most of it!
If a husband gives his wife a bracelet for no special reason, it means -
Business is going well.
A new bracelet versus a thousand impoverished customers.
It means -
He's cheating on her.
- It means - - He loves her.
Love, love, love!
When's dinner around here?
- Be patient, Rafa. - When do we eat?
You mind if we wait for Carmina and Jorge?
Jorge's too important not to wait for him.
What's that?
You like it? It just came to me.
- What's it called? - "Blackmail."
I saw you.
5:30 p.m., the highway to France, in a Fiat, going 60 mph.
- Destination? - Unknown.
Reason for journey? - Tourism.
Anything to declare? Jewels? Drugs?
Sins? - Just personal effects.
Lovers?
- Madam is waiting dinner for you. - What?
Dinner.
I'll be right there.
Forgive me.
- Carmina and Jorge? - They're always late. I never wait.
Is something wrong?
Is something worrying you?
No, Mother. Why?
- How are classes going? - Fine.
Will they make you a professor?
I don't think so. I'd have to work too hard.
Then work. You can go out to the ranch. It'll be quiet there.
And boring.
Of course. I keep my affairs in order.
Yes. Carmina is happily married.
I fulfill my role as black sheep.
The virtuous brothers are deceased...
and the family's glory is on display behind glass.
And here!
Anything wrong with that?
No, it's just fine.
It's Miss Carmina.
Mother? Yes, I know we're very late.
We stayed at the Castros' place.
Jorge says you must excuse us.
What a pity! Juan's gone too?
It's Mother.
You forgive us, don't you? We'll have lunch tomorrow.
We couldn't stay long tonight anyway. We're all dressed up.
No, at the American embassy. All right.
Maria Jos� sends her regards. Tell Juan we're waiting for him.
It was your sister.
She and Jorge send their regards,
and so does Mrs. Castro.
They're waiting for you at the party.
I'll pass.
- Not interested? - In my sister?
No, the party. Maria Jos� and that crowd.
Not much.
Neither Carmina, nor her husband Jorge -
your son-in law and my brother-in-law.
Why not? He's a fine man.
He should be, as high up as he is.
Isn't he good to us all? And to you?
Sure. I owe my modest salary as assistant professor to him.
You might be made professor.
For that matter...
I might be dean too,
thanks to Jorge,
but...
My brother Juan's a failure.
- Why? - He doesn't want to do anything.
- A pity, isn't it? - What?
The way Juan is destroying his future. Jorge could help him so much.
At no time in history have such marvelous circumstances come together.
He always sounds like he's giving a speech.
At no time, I tell you!
One of the rare men who can talk for hours yet say nothing.
You might ask, "In other moments, in other circumstances,
have similar opportunities not arisen?"
No, a thousand times no!
With this I conclude my talk.
This voice of mine falls silent,
this voice that reaffirms once more our vigilant and unwavering position
on every aspect of our life as a nation.
His final remarks met with vigorous applause.
The party continued in a stylish and congenial tone,
heightened by the presence of notable figures.
Our society ladies took up a collection
for the Christmas campaign,
raising much more than in preceding years.
"Keep the change, ma'am."
Tucson, Arizona. A terrible fire has cost the Bardem Stores $800,000.
- What? - Wouldn't you like to come?
Where?
What's the matter?
Haven't you been listening? - I'm sorry. You were saying?
- I was talking about that trip. - Take me along.
On a business trip?
Business ends at sundown all over the world.
How do you spend your evenings?
Missing you.
You know I always miss you.
Do you really want to come?
You come here.
We could leave right away
and escape.
From what?
Everything.
Always the same faces. Every day like all the others.
Nothing ever happens.
You really think so?
Miguel, let's leave right away.
It must be shown that the outline of the toroid
is equal to the circumference -
If we suppose that the center of the circumference
describes an ellipse of semi-axis M and N,
the parametric equations of this ellipse will be -
DEATH OF A CYCLIST
Eliminating alpha gives us equation No. 1...
...an orthogonal projection on plane Z-0
of the base circumference of the surface...
Go away!
Miguel, Emperor is ready.
I should say! He ran five furlongs in -
- In 1.4. - Let's give Emperor a hand.
- He died. - Who?
The cyclist.
Did it say so in the paper?
Nothing else? - Just that.
I see.
I assume they know nothing about the car.
What are we going to do?
I can't think of anything. Wait.
To be found out?
- We have to stay calm. - And make a plan.
- Will I see you later? - Yes.
Hey, Maria Jos�! Juan!
Have you seen the paper? - Anything important?
Depends what you call important.
- What is it? - Wait a minute.
Not the editorials. The comics are dumb.
Sports - nothing.
"News in brief." Here it is. Let's see.
Don't you love the news in brief?
"House under construction collapses." "Crime of passion."
"Death of a cyclist." Here it is.
"Theft." Thieves stole Piluca Bravo's emerald necklace.
Isn't that great?
I'm sure he knows. He has to.
We're ruined, Juan!
Nobody could know. Nobody saw us.
He did. He told me so last night.
What did he say exactly?
He saw you on the highway in your car.
He saw you - and only you.
That's different.
What about the paper? He knows everything.
Think about it.
It could be a coincidence, an innocent remark.
Isn't that possible?
I don't know. I'm so frightened.
I'm afraid, Juan.
What are we going to do? - There's nothing we can do.
Just wait, right? For what?
We have to find out. - What?
What they know.
The police. Rafa.
We have to find out what we did.
We killed a man, didn't we?
All right. I'll look into it.
- I'll see to Rafa. - Be careful.
- Of Rafa? - Everything.
You might reveal one thing while trying to cover up another.
Like what? That I love you?
No, not here.
I'd like a word with you.
With me?
What's the matter? - I failed my exam.
Your name is Matilde Luque, isn't it?
And they failed you. That's a shame.
It's not fair.
Perhaps not. Professors make mistakes too.
It wasn't the professor. It was you!
- Me? - You were reading the paper.
I presented my problem perfectly.
- How do you know? - Because I do!
And so do my classmates. - So I read the paper. What else?
Nothing. You told me to go away.
Then the grades came out, and I had failed.
Perhaps you're right, but there's nothing I can do.
There's one solution. Go see the dean.
Why? Your brother-in-law is very powerful.
Say that again.
Any dispute with the university would be useless.
You have the university and your brother-in-law on your side.
Is that the rumor?
That I have my brother-in-law's protection?
You're brave. I like that.
- Forgive me. - For what?
You've been honest. Besides, it's true.
It's you who must forgive me.
I treated you unfairly.
It's not that. The worst part is that there was no reason.
You just suddenly cut me off.
Why?
I'm not sure I can explain.
I was thinking of personal matters.
I may have a serious problem.
It's the only possible reason.
- It will do. - Try and forgive me.
Why not? There's a simple explanation.
Your selfishness.
Number 21.
"Summer." Do you get it?
It lacks clarity. No firmness in the line or colors.
It's very tentative, don't you think?
Well, that's all.
Now you tell me why. - Why?
Why we've come here today,
why this interest in a third-rate art show.
Just what is it you want?
To know. - To know... abstract art?
Cold.
- Klee's influence on modern painting? - Cold.
- What I earn as an art critic? - Freezing.
- How much I like you? - Warmer.
- What you suspect? - Hot.
- What I want? - Sizzling.
You see, it's all very simple.
The hard part is finding out where to start.
I am Rafael Sandoval, or Rafa.
Good for nothing, but granted entrance to the most exclusive circles.
At your charity balls,
at parties for wealthy merchants and landowners,
I, art critic, represent culture with a capital C.
I eat your caviar, drink your whiskey and smoke your cigarettes.
In exchange - and I'm the loser in the bargain - I endure you all.
- And you're bored stiff. - No, I'm really not.
It's fun observing you.
I see your sins, classify them, file them away... and wait.
For what?
The right moment to act.
All the ugly things you hide, I dig them up and lay them before you.
It's a means of purification.
Or blackmail.
That's an ugly word, and not really even Castilian.
- But the meaning is clear. - If you say so.
- And what do you want? - Not much.
First, stop taking me for such a fool.
Granted.
Second, don't try to see my cards.
If you want to see my hand, you'll have to pay.
I suppose there's no other way. Very well.
Anything else?
In fairy tales, the evil fairy always asks for three things.
What's your third wish?
You.
I'll have to tell my husband.
Just what I intend to do.
...fidelity of wife to husband in body and soul,
in things small and large, in joy and in sorrow.
Fidelity purifies love,
enlarges it, elevates it, ennobles it,
and raises it up to the kingdom of God,
giving it its true reason and deepest meaning.
Lovely words, aren't they, Miguel?
- His usual. - Of course. What else could he say?
Something different. He said the same thing at our wedding.
Oh? I didn't notice. I was very preoccupied.
- About the future? - My veil was pulling a bit.
- Bored? - Quite.
I've heard you two are going away. When?
No point in me setting a date, since she'll have the final word.
How are things? - Good. I'm working on something exciting.
Have you taken up business now?
Not exactly business.
More like a game.
A forbidden game?
A dangerous one.
- Aren't you listening? - Of course.
This canasta tournament will be great fun.
It's for poor children, or stupid children, or something - but it'll be fun.
I'm organizing it myself.
Come along, kids! Time to eat!
You looking for someone?
- The porter. - Take that walkway and come up.
Hey, listen!
Tell Mrs. Antonia someone's looking for her.
Mrs. Antonia.
- What is it? - There's a man looking for you.
Excuse me. Where does Aurelia G�mez Tejedor live?
Upstairs, in number 11.
No one's home.
- I'm looking for Mrs. Tejedor. - She's not in.
- Doesn't she live here? - Yes, but she's not home.
She went to Madrid about the insurance. What do you want?
- To speak to her. - Are you with the insurance company?
I'm a reporter.
My goodness! Will she be in the papers?
Something like that. It's for a story.
Her husband had an accident, didn't he?
Yes. That's why I took you for an insurance man.
It's too bad. I can't come back another day.
What did you want to know?
I just wanted to see her, ask a few questions.
How big the family is, how she lives,
what she does - that sort of thing.
I can tell you. Come in.
There's not much to see anyway.
All these apartments are the same.
Well, she has a sewing machine.
She's a good woman. Very... you know.
Our husbands worked together at the metal factory.
Same thing could have happened to my husband.
- What happened? - Don't you know?
Yes, but I mean the details.
- A car hit him. - And the car?
I suppose the car is fine.
I mean do they know anything about it?
- It didn't stick around! - Aren't they looking?
That's what I asked the policeman who came to talk to Aurelia.
- Policeman? - Yes, the secret police.
He said looking for the car was out of the question.
They don't even have a description.
May I have a little water?
Not until my daughter gets back. She's in line.
- Never mind then. - I won't hear of it.
Merche!
- What about family? - Just Merche and a younger girl.
No, I mean her.
This one's hers, and an older boy down there.
Tonio!
That's him.
- What did he say? - The priest?
- No, Rafa. - Just small talk. Why?
I can't stand that creep.
He's just a poor devil, a poet.
- He's always criticizing. - Isn't that his job?
He's always gossiping.
We all talk about what we see, imagine, suspect.
You talk about others, and they talk about you.
- What do they say? - It was just an example.
You know people talk about us.
The way you behave. The things I do.
Social chatter. It's not important. - It could be.
Never.
In my book, it's not what you say, it's what you do.
I wish I could get away from all this.
I can't take it. When are we going away?
Little Maria Jos� is bored. She wants to fly off.
Odd how weddings make married couples sentimental.
One remembers the good old times.
Don't use that word "old."
Come. I have some juicy gossip.
- Can't we hear? - Gossip is for one person at a time.
Group sessions are so tiresome.
Now comes the scene between the wicked count and the virtuous lady.
- You know it? - It's an easy one.
Then you start.
How odd. He hasn't come.
- Who? - Juan Fern�ndez Soler.
Was he supposed to come?
Of course. He's a distant relation of the bride.
You miss him?
Me? Not exactly me.
Your husband tells me you're leaving Madrid very soon.
That's my plan. Why?
Just curious.
I'd rather you didn't run off. I thought I might -
- What? - Surprise you.
You're going to die.
Mrs. Castro, phone call for you.
Will you excuse me?
- Send my regards. - To whom?
Whoever it is.
Is that you? I can hardly hear you.
There's a crowd here.
To put you at ease. Can you hear me?
Yes. Go on.
Nobody knows a thing. That's right.
You hear me? Nobody knows a thing.
But he does! It's awful, Juan.
That man knows something, but I don't know what.
No, I couldn't get anything out of him. He wants to use it against me.
I see him talking to Miguel and I tremble.
Help me, Juan. We have so much to lose.
Yes, I'll stay calm. We have to meet.
No, I'll call you. Thank you, Juan.
You're all I have. I love you.
- His skull was shattered. - Poor thing!
And they left him lying there like a dog.
The brutes. Maybe if you'd found him in time -
- Who knows. - Who could it have been?
- With that traffic - - A truck.
Or one of those illicit affairs that Encarna hides, eh?
I'm sure it was a truck.
He's obsessed with trucks, so whoever it was can relax.
They all speed like madmen out there.
- We have to go. - Encarna, phone for you.
An illicit affair!
- Want some? - No. Give me a light.
- What's wrong with you, Juan? - Me? You mean both of us.
What are you thinking about? Tell me.
About us.
That's right. What is this?
Love? Passion? A pastime?
Do you love me?
Yes.
I think so.
I'd never asked myself the question.
You've been so many things to me over so many years.
- Sweetheart, lover - - But never my wife.
But I almost was, wasn't I?
The war... - That's right. The war.
The war is very convenient. You can blame everything on it.
All the death and destruction,
all the guys like me left hollow inside
who never believe in anything ever again.
Not even the sweetheart who doesn't wait and marries a rich man.
Now I'm talking nonsense. I sound like some dime store novel.
That was wrong, but I had to do it.
- For your own sake? - Don't be cruel.
You know it's you I love.
But why? Mrs. Castro yawns her way through cocktail parties,
is bored silly at canasta tournaments,
falls asleep at gala concerts.
The old teenage affair becomes a romantic adventure,
nice and exciting... as long as there are no complications.
Now there are, and everything falls apart.
What do you mean?
We can't even kiss now.
You can't stand to let me caress you.
I don't dare touch you.
Maybe I don't even want to.
There's something more important than you or me: Fear.
Of what?
Everything.
People watching. A phone ringing.
Rafa.
I can't take it. What could happen to us?
If they find out?
If they find out we killed a man.
We'll lose everything.
What does "everything" mean?
To you? I don't know.
Your world, your home, your husband,
your position in society, your wonderful life -
And you.
Thanks. I'm in there somewhere too.
- Don't talk like that. - I'm sorry.
Don't mind me. Everything will be fine.
Though sometimes I wish it would all come out.
That we killed one man while deceiving another,
that we think only of ourselves. It would be a relief.
- What can we do? - Nothing.
We have to wait a short while,
like when you mourn some distant relative.
- I couldn't bear it. - We must.
Everything will work out. No one will lose anything.
Everything will go on as before.
We'll come back here one day and kiss
without fear getting in our way or people driving us apart.
There!
Better every time.
- What do you do when I'm not here? - I wear a scarf.
Can you be ready in a few hours?
Dinner is tonight. - Don't be a pain.
You know I don't like being late.
- Who's this dinner for? - Those Americans I mentioned.
- Will Jorge help you? - Of course.
He'll pressure them to give me the contract. Quite a deal.
- Including for Jorge. - Sure. He's a good fellow. Very sharp.
It's his wife who's a bore. - Carmina?
- She takes after her mother. - She comes from a family of heroes.
Juan too?
No. He's just a poor devil.
You were sweethearts once, right?
Nothing too serious. We grew up together.
By the end of the war he was a provisional lieutenant or something.
We went out a few times. - To celebrate the victory.
You're talking nonsense.
- Is he still in love with you? - Juan? What a thing to say!
Why not? You're prettier by the day.
Very kind of you.
I'm in love with you too, and I'm a proud man.
Lots of people envy you. - Me? Why?
Because you're pretty, with a good family name.
- And because I'm your wife? - The wife of an important man.
What do they envy most? The name or the money?
What do you think?
A name can be tarnished by some unseemly act.
Unseemly? Like what?
I don't know. How about murder?
Is that all murder is?
- This is all hypothetical. - Go on.
An unseemly act tarnishes a name, but the name still remains,
whereas money is more fragile.
- I don't understand. - Sure you do. Listen.
The other day someone told me an interesting story
about a prominent couple who lost everything.
Why?
- The woman cheated on her husband. - How original!
Let me continue.
The woman cheated on her husband.
They were upper-class - especially her. He had a lot of money.
- Did he kill her? - No, better than that.
He left her without a penny.
She was suddenly left without her accustomed life.
No one would help her.
You like it? - Your story? Not bad.
Who told it to you?
Rafa.
Yes, of course.
Of course. You give the orders.
And you're not shy about it.
Juan.
Juan worries me, though he's the smartest in the family.
And the least successful. I'm not worth a penny.
Don't be silly. I'm sure Juan's a genius.
Any day now he'll do something stupendous. He's writing a novel.
- Is that true? - Pay her no mind.
Carmina's annoyed that I'm not a person of note.
She wants me to do something unique.
- Why don't you work? - What a thing to say!
Will you excuse me?
Rafa spoke to Miguel.
- Are you sure? - Positive.
Miguel has been asking questions about us.
- Like what? - Like were we sweethearts.
Didn't he know?
Of course. That's what's strange. Why bring it up now?
I'm very frightened.
He mentioned murder.
He related a story similar to our own. - The cyclist?
No. It feels like everyone knows, like they're watching us.
Try to relax and smile.
Talk about anything, but smile.
- But Juan - - Let's talk to Rafa.
We must confront him and find out what he knows.
Juan, you haven't been around much.
- "Blackmail" again? - This tune?
No, this one's in honor
of the USA.
What's in store for them later?
Something "typically Spanish," I'm sure.
Ol�, ol�, toreador.
- Did you speak to Miguel? - About what?
What you mentioned at the art exhibit.
- Not much. There's still time. - May I join you?
You mind?
Still time for what? - I'll do the talking.
We have a little business matter. - You and Maria Jos�?
And Juan.
A business matter? I'm intrigued. What kind?
Buying and selling.
Is it a secret?
- Is it? - No. Tell him.
- You agree? - I agree.
- He may not like it. - I play a role in this little drama?
I should say! The worst one.
- What's my role? - You pay.
What's your part?
I have the best role: I collect.
Tell me more.
He's dying to know. Sorry, I can't tell you yet.
There's one small detail missing, isn't there?
The answer will be revealed in the next act.
What are you looking at?
Did Maria Jos� send you?
- Are you sick? - I'm fine!
- I'll take you home. - The good Samaritan!
You know what? You're afraid of me.
You're all afraid of me! - Why?
I know things. Despicable things about you.
You want to cover them up so no one sees.
Don't touch me!
I'm tired of always being your guest.
The intelligent and witty guest.
Good old Rafa. Nice Rafa.
I have the upper hand here! You're all filthy scum,
a bunch of selfish pigs.
And I know all your dirty secrets.
You'll have to pay me to keep quiet.
Shut up!
So you can go on being the virtuous lady,
the brilliant professor, the great businessman.
Shut up!
To hide the scum you are! Them, and you, and Maria Jos�!
Bad move.
Now the fun starts.
Come on.
Aren't you Juan Fern�ndez Soler?
They're asking for you downstairs.
- Who is it? - The police.
What is it, Juan?
The police are looking for me.
Bad news?
Stop it!
It's nothing. Rafa's just a little drunk.
Right?
Drop the bottle.
Come on. Some fresh air will do you good.
You come too.
Feeling better?
You talked a lot of nonsense back there. Were you just drunk?
Yeah, a little.
- What did he say? - You be quiet.
Think about what you have to say.
Let me talk.
Take your time. Calm down and think.
You don't believe me?
Good old Rafa. What an imagination!
- Don't you believe me? - You're lucky I don't.
This is my wife. You couldn't have seen her anywhere.
- What did he tell you? - Nothing.
Just one of Rafa's jokes.
What did you tell him?
You know perfectly well.
I saw you in your car
with that man on the highway. With Juan!
What else?
See why I can't believe you? She's not deceiving me.
She's mine alone and always will be.
She's my wife. You understand?
Come on.
When you've calmed down, come to the house and we'll talk.
But consider seriously what you have to say.
Fire Soler! Kick him out!
Get back!
Fire him!
See that?
All this could have been avoided,
but we had to look all over for you.
- I'm sorry. - I'm sorry too, but I can't have this.
I don't know or care whether they're right.
My job is to maintain order. What shall we do?
Let's not lose our heads.
Those boys feel a grave injustice has been done
to one of the coeds - What's her name?
Matilde Luque Carrajal.
Matilde Luque.
They say the culprit is Mr. Juan Fern�ndez Soler,
adjunct professor of analytical geometry.
And they demand - - Violently.
It's just a lot of noise.
They demand that this gentleman be dismissed.
It's quite simple.
We promise to give thorough attention to their demand,
according to prescribed rules, of course. Agreed?
Fine. This is in your hands.
Let's go. This won't be difficult.
You'd better stay here.
And you might want to speak to your brother-in-law.
May I?
Come in, please.
- The dean asked me to speak to you. - Why?
I don't know exactly. I'm so sorry about all this.
Sorry? Really?
Can't you see it's wonderful? - What is?
This selflessness, this unity, this solidarity.
- You're too - - Na�ve?
Don't believe it. Look.
Many are just along for the ride.
It could be "Promote him!" Or "Fire him!" - they don't care.
They just want to shout.
But the others are really in your camp.
Your problem - my unfairness - has become their own.
Why do you laugh?
I don't understand.
If you only knew, Matilde. May I call you that?
This morning I got quite a scare. The police came looking for me.
That's always frightening, even with a clean conscience.
Word was out that this "insurrection" would take place today,
and the dean wanted to take precautions.
Until I heard your classmates shouting, I only thought of my problem.
But now -
What?
Look out the window.
They've made me feel young and noble and selfless again,
like when I used to break windows and run from the police.
I feel like one of them. I too shout, "Fire him!"
That's a good one.
What?
I mean...
you're a good man.
You mustn't lose anything on my account.
Lose?
I've done nothing this morning but win back
so many things that I'd lost.
Don't worry for my sake, Matilde.
Look. It's all settled.
- You should go join them. - What will happen to you?
Nothing.
Don't worry.
Everything will be fine.
Go join them.
I'd like to ask a favor of you.
One day I'd like to talk to you -
or rather, listen to you talk about everything,
how you see everything.
I don't understand.
It may seem strange,
but for so long now I've been cut off -
how should I say? -
from anything real, anything I could believe in.
Will you do that for me? - Of course.
Thank you.
Thank you very much.
And good luck.
- Why are we meeting here? - Juan, I'm so happy. We're saved.
- What about Rafa? - Miguel took away all his ammunition.
Rafa knew nothing.
His every word sounded like a threat. - But he knew something!
Yes, maybe he knew or suspected something.
- About the cyclist? - No, about us.
He's a dirty rat, but I'm no longer afraid of him.
He can't hurt us now. That's all in the past.
- What about the other thing? - What other thing?
The accident? Nobody saw it.
Juan, I'm so happy.
It feels good not to be afraid, to feel safe.
It's all been so horrible.
What happened with the students?
Nothing.
Listen, we should do something for that poor man now that we're safe.
We should send some money to his widow.
An anonymous gift. Take care of it, would you?
Are you leaving?
Yes. Let's let a few days go by. We have to be careful.
But I need to speak to you. It's crazy meeting here!
Yes, we'll meet and talk just like we used to. You remember?
Just wait a few days.
I'll call you.
Did you want something?
No, it's late.
- The one in yellow isn't doing badly. - No, he isn't.
He ran the 100 in 12.3.
You'd have settled for that in our day.
Don't be so negative. We didn't do too badly ourselves,
especially since we carried our rifles on our backs.
Someone called it "the ideal training device."
But he didn't say for what purpose, did he?
How did all that turn out?
All what?
Don't pretend. The trouble with the students.
Who was at fault?
I was.
What do you intend to do?
Set things straight.
Finally...
everything will be set straight.
Excuse me. I have to go.
Don't be a stranger. You know we're fond of you.
I know. Kisses to Magda and the girls.
Will do.
Hi there!
I'm not too late, am I? I just got your message.
What's the matter? - Nothing important.
I have a favor to ask, if it's no trouble.
I'd like you to be the one to hand this in.
- What is it? - My resignation.
I think it's the right thing to do.
I came by this position easily.
My family has influence, as you know.
It will be just as easy to leave it.
Have you thought this over carefully?
For the last few days - since that very day, in fact -
I think everything over very carefully.
Besides, I couldn't keep the job now. I'm going away.
On a trip?
Something like that.
A journey back to myself,
though that sounds like the title of a novel.
Will you be away long?
I'm afraid so.
You'll no longer be in school when I return.
Perhaps you'll have a large family by then.
- What should I do with the letter? - Just turn it in to the administration.
It's probably a foolish bit of symbolism on my part.
In my day there were too many symbols.
Will you do me that favor, Matilde?
And one other: Stay just as you are - always.
Will you do that for me too?
All that's left is to say thank you.
- For what? - Everything.
For being who you are. For the chance to know you.
Good-bye, Matilde.
But where are you going?
Where?
The place isn't important.
Why are you doing all this? Why go away?
Because of something bad that I did.
Bring down my large purse, and leave that suitcase there.
Hello?
I said I'd call you! You're being reckless!
But you didn't call.
I have to see you.
Yes, it's very important. For both of us.
No, don't be afraid. No one knows anything.
Darling, we can't meet. He's insisting I go with him.
A trip abroad. Today.
I don't know for how long.
You can't leave now!
Juan, listen!
Yes, he's home. We could lose everything.
We've already lost everything.
From now on we only stand to gain.
I want you to come with me...
to the police.
Let's turn ourselves in.
Yes, I understand.
Very well. I'll go with you.
As always.
I'll be there within an hour.
I've never understood you, Juan.
You're too complicated for a woman like me.
Everything was given to me sorted out and measured.
But you always managed to escape,
and I've never known where your true place lies.
Forgive me.
I've never known how to help you.
I couldn't.
I must have been a great disappointment to you, Mother.
Always searching for a way out...
like bumblebees...
flying into windowpanes.
You know, the other day at school,
someone broke the windowpane.
Today is a great day, Mother.
I found the way out, the solution.
Solution to what?
Everything.
They won't be giving me any awards, but I'll be a sort of hero.
- Are you going out? - Yes. We'll stop by later.
- We? Who's the other person? - The same as always, Mother.
Rafa? Forget about him.
The important thing is what you might say now.
What you might do.
I wish I could believe in you.
- Miguel, you're what matters most. - No!
It's not me.
It's your selfishness. - My selfishness?
It's the only thing I can use to my advantage.
Your selfishness, your greed,
your lust for life, your unquenchable desires.
I love you, Miguel.
No, you don't. You love what I represent.
All this. Everything I can give you.
Everything I can take away.
I know. It's despicable.
But your selfishness is all I've got.
I'll go with you. I'll always be at your side.
You'd do anything not to lose me, wouldn't you?
Anything.
You'd throw away everything to save your life.
Yes.
Very well.
Our plane leaves at 9:15.
We'll be going far away, and for a long time.
You must choose. I'll be waiting.
- It's late. - Is it?
It's been so long since we could relax.
Remember? Last time we couldn't even kiss.
That was fear.
And shame.
Now we'll step forward and tell them,
"We killed a man.
We left him to die out of pure selfishness."
Tomorrow the whole world will know. How horrible!
We have to do it.
How long will we be apart?
I don't know. A few years.
Will you still love me?
You know, for the first time in a long time,
I have something to believe in.
- Yourself? - Us.
Our dignity.
I'm happy now, and you should be too.
We'll be masters of our own destiny.
We'll say no to so much filth, including this affair.
We won't lie and sneak around to see each other.
We have to make a clean start.
What?
- What if it was all a lie? - All what?
Everything.
What if I didn't love you?
What if I refused to go to the police?
- I'd still go. - Without me.
But I'd still go.
So I could still save myself.
No, you couldn't.
And you wouldn't save me?
No, there's nothing I can do. They would know.
And I'd lose everything, right?
- What do you think you still have? - I have you.
No, not if you didn't love me.
- Then I could keep - - Your world?
If you left me now,
I'd drag you down with me without even meaning to.
I feel so alone.
You're with me now.
You should have been with me all along.
I love you so much! I've loved you for so long!
We have to purify ourselves, become clean and good again,
and pay for a crime we committed. I love you!
His resignation? How strange.
I knew nothing of this.
Why?
- He mentioned a trip. - A trip?
I don't wish to alarm you, but - I don't know...
- Do you fear for him? - Yes. Something he said struck me.
- About what? - The reason for his trip, and that letter.
I remember perfectly.
"Because of something bad that I did."
Something bad.
That's odd.
I can't imagine Juan ever doing anything bad.
Is he that good?
Yes, I've always believed he was.
But perhaps I was mistaken.
But you must know him so well.
I love him very much, but that's not enough.
Perhaps I should know him, but how?
I often look at this photo album.
The pictures seem so strange.
I see my children grow up.
Their first communion...
school...
military service...
politics...
the war...
death.
The trenches were right over there.
I thought of you,
all the moments we'd spent together,
our last vacation together.
I still had faith in so many things.
I loved you.
I had great plans for the future.
It's strange.
This is the most important place in the world for you and me.
There's always been some part of us here.
Memories during the war, and then later -
It was right here, wasn't it?
We killed a man in this very spot.
We left him to die because he was a nuisance.
Are you cold?
I like this hour of the day. Twilight.
There's a moment when everything falls silent.
I want so much to live, like never before.
It's hard to start over...
but it's good.
You see?
The whole earth is in order.
There's only silence...
and peace.