Kiss of the Spider Woman (1985) Script

She's, um...

Well, she's... something a little strange.

That's what you notice, that she's not a woman like all the others.

She seems all wrapped up in herself.

Lost... in a world she carries deep inside her... but surrounded by a world of luxury.

A sumptuous boudoir.

Her bed all quilted satin.

Chiffon drapes.

From her window, you can see the Eiffel Tower.

Suddenly, her maid brings in a gift-wrapped box.

A token from an admirer.

She's a cabaret star of the highest rank.

She opens the box.

It's a diamond bracelet.

But she sends it back.

Men are really at her feet. She's known a few.

But not the one she's been waiting for all her life.

A real man.

Her maid has prepared her a foam bath.

The star takes a towel and wraps it around her hair like a turban.

Her fingernails painted a rosy peach, she unfastens her taffeta nightgown and lets it slide smoothly down her thighs to the tile floor.

Her skin glistens.

Her petite ankle slips into the perfumed water.

Then her sensuous legs, until finally her whole body is caressed with foam.

I told you. No erotic descriptions.

Whatever, but she's a ravishing woman.

Do you know what I mean?

I mean... the most ravishing woman in the world.

Yeah, sure.

She really is.

Perfect figure.

Classical features.

But with these big green... eyes.

They're black.

I'm the one who saw the movie, but if that's what you want, big black eyes.

Kind eyes.

Tender eyes.

But beware. They can see... everything.

There's nothing you can hide from them.

No matter how lonely she may be, she keeps a distance.

She's probably got bad breath or something.

If you're going to crack jokes about a film that I happen to be fond of, there's no reason to go on.

All right, all right, go ahead.

Suddenly... we're in Paris.

Troops are marching right underneath the Arc de Triomphe.

Really handsome soldiers, and the French girls are applauding as they pass by.

Then we are on this typical Parisian back street.

Dead end, sort of -- sort of looking up a hill, and these really weird-looking Frenchmen -- not the typical ones with the berets -- are unloading a truck -- It's wartime of course -- and the boxes contain contraband delicacies like canned meat, the best cheeses... mm, peaches in syrup...

Don't talk about food.

Not to mention the hams and the patés.

I'm serious.

No food and no naked women.

You still feeling dizzy?

It's my back.

You've been bleeding again. Look at your shirt.

It's all wet.

It's just sweat. I had another fever break.

Well, what do you think so far? Isn’t it fabulous?

Helps pass the time.

Does that mean that you like it?

Doesn't help any great cause, but I guess it's all right.

Blessed Mary, is that all you can talk about?

You must have studied political philosophies in school.

The phrase is "political science," and the answer is no. I studied journalism.

Oh, so you can appreciate a good story.

And easily spot a cheap one.

I know it's nothing terribly intellectual like you must be used to.

It's just a...romance, but it's so beautiful.

Now... suddenly... this military convoy rushes forward!

Marvelous German soldiers catch those weird smugglers in the act and arrest them all.

But watching nearby... is this small truck.

With these two French thugs from the Resistance... who are spying on the Germans.

This hulking clubfoot and his half-deaf flunky.

Wait a minute.

Those weird guys the Germans arrested?


What do you mean they didn't look French?

They didn't look French. They looked... um...Turkish.

I'm not sure, but they had these, like, these caps on their heads, like these -- like these, um...

Turkish. Fezzes.

Those caps are yarmulkes.

Can't you see this is a fucking anti-Semitic film?

Oh, come on!


This must have been a German movie, right?

I don't know. It was from years ago.


I don't explain my movies. It just ruins the emotion.

This must have been a Nazi propaganda film done during the war.

I don't know. That's just the background.

This is where the important part begins, the part about the lovers.

It's divine.

Every night, the chic set flocks to this exclusive club, with lovers at every table, spies in every corner, and the top officers of the German high command.

One of them is Werner.

Werner -- so distant, so divine -- and the chief of counterintelligence for all France.

Oh, and Michelle, with her angel face, the cigarette girl who really is working for, the --

Well, you'll see.

And then...

The moment they're all waiting for...

Da da!

Stepping into the spotlight is that legendary star, that ravishing chanteuse, Leni...



Yakov and Naveed were arrested.

Did you get the map?

No. There was no time.

Just get it.

Nothing else matters.

Vive la France!

Werner's eyes begin to burn into her soul.

Eyes like the claws of an eagle.


What are you laughing at?

Well, it must be something.

At you.

And me.

What's going on?


They're bringing someone new.

What time is it anyway?

He's really bleeding.

Is it a political prisoner?

They don't treat you like that for stealing bananas.

Mm. You know him?

Come on. Go.

Your name? Hey! You!

And your name?

Luis Molina.

Valentin Arregui.

Do you want to shave?

Well, I didn't mean your legs.

What is the matter?

I don't understand why they stopped my interrogation.

It's been almost a week.

Why couldn't they give me that handsome leading blond man here to keep me company, instead of you?

What the hell are you talking about?

Are you afraid to talk about sex?

You really want to know, Molina?

I find you boring.

Darling, you don't know page one.

You know I'm a faggot. Well, congratulations.

You know I corrupted a minor.

Well, that's even on TV, film at 11:00.

You really like those Nazi blonds, don't you?

Well, no, you see, I detest politics, but I'm mad about the leading man.

He's so romantic.

Should I be shot for that?

Your Nazis are about as romantic as the fucking warden and his torture room.

I can imagine.


You can't.

You can't sleep?

You mind if I tell my picture?

After the show, Leni changes into a satin evening gown that makes her look heavenly.

Firm breasts... thin waist... smooth hips...

Is this propaganda or porno?

Just listen. You'll see.

Excuse me.


What is it, Michelle?


I'm a traitor. A traitor to France.

What do you mean?

I'm going to have a baby.

But the father, he's a young lieutenant of the occupation army.

Is that so?

My poor Michelle.

But he loves me and wants to get married -- as soon as he can get permission.

I really can't understand.

How could you fall in love with an enemy of our France?

Love has no country, Leni.

But there's something else you don't know.

Leni, dear...

I'm working for the resist--

Come in!

For you, madame.

How can you remember all this crap?

You must be making it up.

No! I'm not, I sw--

Well, I embroider a little so that you can see it the way I do.

God help me.

You atheists never stop talking about God.

And you gays never face facts.

Fantasies are no escape.


If you've got the keys to that door, I will gladly follow.

Otherwise, I will escape in my own way.

Thank you.

Then your life is as trivial as your movies.

I'm going to sleep.

Tell the truth.

Who do you identify with the most?

The clubfoot patriot or the handsome Werner?

Who do you identify with?

Oh, the singer.


She's the star.

I'm always...

...the heroine.

Have some. It's delicious.

No, thanks.

What's the matter? You don't like it?

Sure, I like it, but, no, thanks.

Well, then go ahead and have some.

It's a long time till lunch.

Can't afford to get spoiled.

Do you really think that eating this avocado will make you spoiled and weak?

Enjoy what life offers you.

What life offers me is the struggle.

When you're dedicated to that, pleasure becomes secondary.

Does your girlfriend think the same thing?

How do you know I have a girl?

It's...the normal thing.

Does she avoid pleasure, too?

She knows what really counts.

That the most important thing is serving a cause that is noble.

What kind of cause is that, one that doesn't let you eat an avocado?

Molina, you would never understand.

Well, I understand one thing.

I offer you half of my precious avocado and you throw it back in my face.

Don't act like that! You sound just like a --

Like a what? Say it.

Say it. Like a woman, you mean.

What's wrong with being like a woman?

Why do only women get to be sensitive?

Why not a man?

A dog?

Or a faggot?

If more men acted like women, there wouldn't be so much violence like that.

-Maybe you have a point. -Oh!

A flimsy one, but still a point.

Oh, nice! "Maybe I have a point."

Molina, today's your lucky day.

The warden want to talk to you.

Why did the warden want to see you?

My lawyer called.

Parole seems out of the question.

For a while, at least.

How did he treat you, the warden?

Like a faggot.

Same as always.

Oh, no.


He told me something else.

My mother's not doing too well.

She has high blood pressure.

And her heart is kind of weak.

People can go on forever like that.

Sure, but not if you upset them.

Can you imagine the shame of having a son in prison?

And the reason?

Go to sleep. You'll feel better.


Only one thing can help.

Sure, man, go ahead.


Is there a man here? Don't let him go!

Did he get away?

Okay. Cut the crap and tell your movie.

And now... waiting in the moonlight, behind the cabaret... is Werner's limousine.

Werner's eyes are locked on the backstage exit.

"La sortie des artistes."

He signals his chauffeur to open the door for her.

Maybe because Leni sees a chance to help Michelle, or maybe because Leni wants to know what kind of man is hidden inside this enemy invader, she decides... to join him for the evening.


To a great artiste.

Michelle hurries to meet her secret love.

But dark forces have already decided the fate of this sweet girl, this girl from the French Resistance in love with a German lieutenant.

Her time is up.



Hanson! is a luxury a spy cannot afford.

Michelle, look out!

How can you leave me sitting there like that, chattering to myself like some silly parrot?


When Michelle was killed, I...

It was chilling.

It's just a movie, Valentin, just one of mother's many stories.

Yeah, but I keep thinking about... someone I know.

Your girlfriend. Tell me about her!

My lips are sealed.

It's just that I'm... so helpless in here, with no way to protect her.

So you have a heart after all.


Write to her, tell her to stop taking chances.

If you think like that, you'll never change anything in this world.

Now look who's living in a fantasy.

You call this fantasy?

I'm so sorry.

Someday the struggle will be won.

Don't worry, Valentin. You'll have your day.

I'm sure.

Great. I'm starving.


No. You take this one. It has twice as much.

Sure. Because those bastards want us to fight over it. Take it.

No, you need it more than I do.

Please. Please. To build your strength.

Don't argue. Take it!

May I have a spoon?


What's the matter? Afraid of getting fat?


This glue is not so bad today.



When I said you should write your girlfriend, I also meant you should tell her that you love her.

It's so nice to get a letter from someone that you love.

Are you crazy?

A letter would be like denouncing her to them.

The only reason I'm still alive is because they want some information from me.

And if anyone tries to save me, they'd hide my arrest by killing me on the spot.

Valentin, please. Just don't say things like that.

The same thing could be happening to her right now.

You love her very much, don't you?

Love should always come first.

That's great. Now I'd like to eat in peace!

Don't worry. I won't disturb you.


What is it now?

It's my mother.

She must really be in bad shape, or she'd come visit me with groceries.

This happened once before.

Sorry to hear that.

Well, I told you she was sick, but of course you weren't paying any attention.

But that's not what I'm crying about.

So what is it, for Christ's sake?

Because it's so beautiful... when lovers are together for a lifetime.

Why is it so impossible?

You got to be crazy crying about something like that.

I will cry about whatever I want to.

Valentin, do you think you're the only one who's suffered?

You think it's easy to find a real man?

One who's humble and yet has dignity.

How many years have I been searching?

How many nights?

How many faces filled with scorn and deceit?

I mean, you know, working as a window dresser -- enjoyable as it is -- sometimes, at the end of the day, you wonder what it's all about.

You feel kind of...empty inside.

Then one night...


It's something new she just invented herself, which she calls it La Chikka-Chakka.

And she goes, "Chikka-chakka, chikka-chakka."

And it's an overnight sensation!

Next day she's in all newspaper, and her husband becomes so jealous because he thinks she's nuts.

Good evening, gentlemen.

Would you care for the daily special, or would you like to order a la carte?

I haven't decided yet.

Okay. Right.

My heart was pounding, so afraid that I would be hurt once again.

Are you ready for me, sir?

Um...what do you suggest?

Well, perhaps the lasagna and antipasto.

Don't you think the lasagna might be fattening?

Then perhaps the steak and onion soup.

That sounds wonderful.


-Thank you. -Okay.

His white tunic, the way he moved, his sad smile.

Everything seemed so perfect, like in the movies.

You have no idea how much trouble I went through, month after month, just to get him to go for a walk.

But little by little, I made him see that I respected him.

Anyway, after more than a year, we finally became friends.

Jesus, did it take you another year to get him in the sack?

Are you out of your mind?

Nothing at all happened, ever.

You got to be kidding.

Don't you know anything at all? He's straight. He's married.

I said to him, "Just once. Let's do it just once," but, uh, he never wanted to.

I don't believe this.

Here I am staying up all night thinking about your boyfriend.

Sounds like a real bind, Molina.

All you can do is take it like a man.

I take it... like a woman.


That's why I want a husband who's the boss.

Did you ever meet his wife?


But when they were on the verge of splitting up, God, such illusions I had.

Like what?

That he might come home and live with me.

With my mother and me.

And I would take care of him... and help him lose that sadness of his forever.

Well, that's life, Molina.

No, it's a shame.

With your looks and charm, you should work in a chic restaurant or in a big luxury hotel, making three times what you're getting now in that stinkhole.

That's not so easy.

I know someone who works in a big hotel on the coast.

He could talk to the manager, and -- presto -- a new life.

And be what, a busboy in a snob joint?

I would make less money than now.

I could help you with a loan.

With your poise, you'd be a waiter in six months.

I don't know.

Of course you do.

In a year, a maitre d' in a tuxedo.

You could pay me back in no time.


Anyway, I appreciate your offer.

I'll think about it.

I got to get my bus. I'm gonna be late.

See you tomorrow.

Bye-bye, Molina.

Good night, Gabriel.

Kiss the children for me.

And then it's over -- again.

My dreams disappear... into the darkness...

and I wake up alone... waiting, as always, waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.

Waiting for what?

A man...

Ha ha. A real man.

But that can't happen because a real man, what he wants is a real woman.

Can I ask you a question?

What is a real man in your terms?

Well... to be marvelous-looking and strong, without making any fuss about it, and walking very tall like my waiter.

He just gives you that impression, but inside it's another story.

In this society, without power behind you, no one walks tall.

Don't be jealous.

Don't be stupid.

You see how you react?

There's just no talking about a guy with another guy, without getting into a fuss.

Look, just keep it at a certain level, okay?

Or let's not talk at all.

Okay, you tell me what a real man is.

I don't know.

Sure, you do. Go ahead, tell me.

Well, not taking any crap from anybody, not even the powers that be.

That's not the most important thing.

What really makes a man has to do with not humiliating anybody.

It's not letting the people around you feel degraded.

That sounds like a saint.

Forget it.


What's wrong?

-My stomach. -Maybe it's your appendix.

No, I had mine out. God, it hurts.

You feel like throwing up?

No, it's below there. It's in my guts.

The food didn't do anything to me.

I don't know. Maybe it's my ulcer.

I don't like this.

Why don't you go on with your movie?

God! I never felt a pain like this.

Go ahead and tell it.

Leni...lingers at the window, so sad, so alone, so afraid that she will fall in love...

Tonight, the invaders murdered your friend Michelle.


You must complete her mission and find the secret map to the German arsenal.

Their chief of counterintelligence is in love with you.

I could never get involved in such a thing.

Nonsense. Nothing could be safer.

Do you love France?

Of course I do.

That Kraut can't keep his hands off you.

Next time he touch you like this... and like this, think of your country and get the map.


Aah! Ohh!

Stop her, you idiot!

Leni, desperate, runs along this dark, empty street, but, furious, Clubfoot hobbles after her.


When suddenly...

This girl is finished.

What girl?

Me, stupid!


Guard! Guard!!


You're strong enough to go back to your cell.

Your diarrhea will stop tomorrow.

Till then, no food.

Only water. Clean water.

If you can find it.

Doctor, I need to see the warden right away.

That's what they all say.

I don't understand how you can pass out from an ulcer.

I'm no spring chicken, darling.

I'm getting dizzy even looking at these pictures.

God, wouldn't it be wonderful if you told me a movie for a change?

One that I haven't seen.

I don't remember any.

Don't be like that.

Come on, tell me one.


Don't be such a crybaby.

Valentin, have you ever loved someone that you didn't want to love?

What do you mean?

Leni didn't want to fall in love with Werner, but what could she do?

She steps through his doorway like a goddess.

Her slim, graceful figure trembles at the sight of Werner descending the marble staircase.

Their eyes meet.

Leni says...

My best friend has been killed.

I need a place to stay.

Prepare the guest room.

This music is magical.

I feel like...

I'm floating on air.

But her heart is saying, "Oh, Werner, you seem like a god, but your tears... your tears are proof that you have the feelings of a man."


I can't hear.


Fascist murderers.


Fascist murderers.


Fascist murderers! Murderers!

Fascist murderers!


Murderers! Fascist mur--

Motherfucker! Motherfucker!


I'll clean it up.

You son of a bitch.

They're killing one of my brothers, and what am I doing?

Listening to your fucking Nazi movie!

Don't you know anything?!

Don't you know what the Nazis did to people?

Jews! Marxists! Catholics!


Of course I know.

What do you take me for, an even dumber broad than I am?

You son of a bitch!

You don't know shit!


You wouldn't know reality if it was stuck up your ass!

Why should I think about reality in a stinkhole like this?

Why should I get more depressed than I already am?

You're worse than I thought.

You just use these movies to jerk yourself off.

If you don't stop, I will never speak to you again!

Stop crying!

You sound just like an old woman!

That's what I am. That's what I am.

What's this between your legs?! Huh?!

Tell me, lady!

It's an accident.

If I had the courage, I'd cut it off.

You'd still be a man. A man!

A man in prison!

Just like the faggots the Nazis shoved in the ovens!

Don't look at me like that.

Luis Alberto Molina... you shall endure the full weight of the law and not one day less.

You will be confined without a chance of parole for a period of not less than eight years.

Poor Mama.

Her eyes filled with tears as if someone had died.

A life full of humiliation and then the humiliation of a son steeped in vice, but she never gave me that black look.

Her heart broken by too much suffering, too much forgiving.

Because of me she could die.

If he ever says one unkind word about her, I'll strangle the son of a bitch.

Him and his filthy words and his piss-ass revolution!

Get me some water!

It's my stomach.

It's like a bomb exploding.

It's the same thing that happened --

I think it's the food.

We got to get to the infirmary right away.

-Guard! -No!

Wait! Stop!

I'm a political prisoner.

Don't be ridiculous.

This is no time for your damn discipline.

Get away from the door!

Look at me. They gave me a shot, and I'm better already.

Are you crazy? That's what they want.

They'll get me hooked on those shots, and I'll tell them everything.

What are we going to do?

Just leave me alone.

Oh, God.

What about my movie?

It might help you forget the pain.

Later that night, on the moonlit veranda, Leni feels so safe, so secure in Werner's arms.

Even when the phonograph stops, they continue dancing.

Dancing and dancing.


To the music of the evening breezes.


Who are you?

It's okay.

There, now.

Try to rest.


You shouldn't eat this garbage while you're sick.

I have to get my strength back.

It will only make you worse.

Tastes piss.

My poor little Valentina.

Don't call me "Valentina." I'm not a woman.

Well, I've never seen proof to the contrary.

And you never will.

Now, uh, the clubfoot told...

You'll like this part. Wait and see.

The clubfoot told Leni that her sweet lover was ordering the execution of her countrymen every day.

But she refused to believe it.

She only wanted to live this love, to feel his touch, to hear his voice.

It's a difficult decision.

Ja, Herr Kommandant. We captured 10 of them.

They are all French, but their activities prove that they are enemies of the people.

They call themselves patriots, but in fact they're common criminals.

Jawohl, Herr Kommandant.

Let the execution take place at dawn.


Her fingers trembled with the agony of betraying the man that she loves.

It's like a nail in my gut!

That's better.

Do me a favor and stop all this crap about beautiful women in tears?

Leni's heart was beating so fast, that her swelling breasts leapt out of her low-cut gown, like luscious hors d'oeuvres on a silver platter.

Oh, don't make me laugh. It hurts!

Here. Have a nice juicy tit.

Have another.

The best places serve them in pairs.

The bucket, quick!

Oh, no!


Phew. Christ. What a smell.

I'm sorry.

You don't know how much it hurts.

Just let it all out.

It can't smell any worse than it already does.

God, I can't stand this.

You've been through worse.

Much worse.

I'm so ashamed.

Aren't you the one always saying, "Take it like a man"?

So what's this business of being embarrassed?

I can't stand this. I can't stand myself like this.

Take off your pants.

Here. Come on. Come on.

Cover yourself with this. Here.

Why do you always have to... pick on yourself so much?

That's it. That's it. This one first.

Now this one. That's it.

Okay, now... wipe yourself off.

No! It'll -- It's yours.

No, it's not. It's ours.

Wipe yourself.


There's a little more here... and here...

Jesus. Aren't you disgusted?

No, it breaks my heart to see you like this.

There, almost finished.

Good. Now take off your shirt.

No. It's all right.

The shirttails are soiled. Please.

There. That's it. That's it.

There we go. Now just a second.

Okay, now, try to stand up.

No, it'll stink.

My weekly shower is tomorrow.

I'll have it all clean by noon.

There we go. There we go.

There we go.

All wrapped up like a little papoose.

It doesn't disgust you?

Lie down.

There we go.

We don't want you to catch a chill.

What a shame I have no talcum left.

There. Are you comfortable now?

Yeah, but I'm so cold.

I'll make you a nice hot cup of tea.

This will work wonders. It's hot -- hot, hot.

You'll burn yourself.

You're very kind, honestly.

I don't know what to say.

Don't burn yourself.

Oh, um, this...fell out of your shirt.

Go ahead, read it. I know you've been curious.

No, I only read love letters.

I don't want to know anything about your politics.

It's from my girlfriend. Her name is Lydia.

What about Marta?

How do you know about Marta?

You mumbled her name in your sleep.

What else did I mumble?


The letter's from Lydia.

She's my girlfriend in the movement.

Her handwriting is like a child's.

She hasn't had much of an education.

I'm gonna tell you the truth.

During torture, whenever I felt close to death, it was Marta I would think about, and she would save me.

My whole body ached to hold her.

What's she like?

She's upper class.

Pure bourgeoisie.

She's got everything.

Money, looks, education... freedom.

I'm such a hypocrite.

Just like all those class-conscious pigs.

I must admit, it was convenient.

A safe place to stay while I was forced to hide.

Until one day I had to tell her about my other life.

She just listened in silence like she knew already.

Then she asked me to leave the movement.

But how could I do nothing when my friends were disappearing every day?

I sensed that she was right, but I had no choice.

So once again I didn't know what to say.

Things are what they are.

I'll be back in a few days. Same as always.

I can't take it anymore.

Always waiting, watching the phone.

Always alone.

Valentin... if you leave, don't come back.

Please. Don't come back.

I no longer believed in violence, but I had to do something.

As a journalist, I was always hearing about the illegal arrests and secret torture.

Then leaking this information abroad.

My assignment was to meet one of the last surviving members of the original movement.

His code name was Dr. Americo.

He needed my passport to leave the country.

Are you all right?

A little tired.

You should have left a long time ago, Dr. Americo.

This is where I'm needed.

I keep wondering if it's all worth it when nothing really changes.

Well, good luck. Here's your passport.

Take care of yourself.

Thank you.

He had accomplished almost nothing, but I was glad I could help him.



Here! Open your legs! Open your legs!


What happened to Marta?

I don't know anything for sure except...

I'll never see her again.

Don't say that.

I don't deserve to die in this cell.

I only confessed some code names they already knew.

I can't stand being a martyr.

It infuriates me.

I don't want to be a martyr.

My whole life, a mistake.


Give me your hand.

I don't want to die, Molina.

I don't want to die.

Don't let me die.

Of course not.

You look thin, Molina.

What's the matter?

It's nothing. I was sick, but I'm better now.

So stop trembling.

There's nothing to be afraid of.

Arregui doesn't suspect anything, does he?

No, sir.

What has he told you?

Well... nothing yet.


I feel I should proceed very cautiously.

Molina, you are lying.

What are you hiding?

Nothing. How can you accuse me when I almost died for you?

He insisted...that I eat the bowl with the poison.

Why? You made a mistake there.

One plate had twice as much as the other one, so he insisted I eat the larger portion.

Sir, you told me that the poison food would be in a -- in a new tin plate.

Well, they loaded it up so much, I had no choice.

I had to eat it myself or he would have become suspicious.

Poor Molina. I'm sorry for the mix-up.

I commend you.

Sit down, here.


Your mother is feeling much better since she learned you may be paroled.


Of course, so stop crying.

You should be pleased.

It's from happiness, sir.

What did Valentin say about his cadre?

His what?

His group.

Who they are. Where they meet.

Nothing, sir. He -- He is very sick.

If he has any more poison, I don't know what will happen.

His girlfriend. What did he say about her?

He says that personal things... are secondary to the revolution.

He thinks everything else is trash, so...

I think he's warming up to talking about it.

For me?

Thank you.

What did he say about the new prisoner?

The one across the hall.

The one who's all messed up.

He said no crime justifies that kind of punishment.

This coffee really hits the spot.

Did he tell you his name?

Of course, sir. It's Valentin Arregui.

No, you idiot!

The name of the new prisoner.

Of course not. He's always wearing a hood.

Who put a hood on him?

It's routine. He's political.

How do you expect him to talk if he can't even see the bastard's face?

It won't happen again.

Molina, we've got to know everything they are planning.

As soon as he sees that new prisoner's face, he will spill his guts.

Remember every damn word he says.

Yes, sir.

The quicker he talks, the quicker you get out.

Now, get back to work.

Uh, warden? Um, one more thing.

Um, he heard the guards say that my mother was coming.

And I had told him that she always brings me a bag full of groceries, and...I don't want him to get suspicious.

Okay. Dictate what she brings.

To you, sir?

Yeah, to me. And make it quick. I'm busy.


Two roast chickens in butter... um... egg salad... canned peaches... uh... condensed milk, two bags of -- of tea -- one regular and one chamomile... a jar of pickled herring.

Four bars of toilet soap. What else?


Blessed Mary, my mind's a blank.

What else? Let me think. Um...


Rye bread, sugar, I need. Um... roast chickens... canned peaches...

Cheddar cheese. Mmm.


Rye bread.

What happened?

Look at this. Two roast chickens.

Two! How about that?

Just watch how fast you get better now.

Your mother came?

Yes. Tea!

Um...oh... sugar.



That's great. How is she?

Oh, she's much better. Much better. Thank you.

And look... at all she brought me.

I mean "us."

Well, really that's all meant for you.

No, you have to stop eating that damn prison chow, and you'll feel better in no time.

You think so, huh?

You're damn right I do.

Starting today a new life begins.

Oh, and I took a chance... and left the sheets out to dry... and no one walked away with them, so tonight we both have clean sheets.

Nice going.

Just let me get this started and...


In a few minutes, you'll be licking your fingers.

I expect you to eat all of these chickens, both of them.

Well, what about you?

I'm not gonna just let you sit around and drool.

No, I have to keep an eye on my girlish figure, or at least what's left of it.

Not yet. That's for dessert.


Would you like some more peaches?

No, thanks, I'm stuffed.

Good food, good cigarette.

I don't remember when I felt so good.

There's only one thing missing.


And I thought I was supposed to be the one who was the degenerate around here.

No, no. I mean a good movie.

Oh, of course!

Geez, why didn't I think of that?

Your Nazi movie. How does it end?

I thought you hated it.

Yeah, but I'm curious to see how it turns out.

Well, let's see...

They are dining at the majestic table in Werner's chateau.

As Werner begins to notice Leni's cold distance... she, suddenly, impulsively... hurls her wine glass across the room and says...

I refuse to love a man who is the butcher of my country!

Oh, my love.

Come with me, and you will understand.

Werner takes her to this government archive filled with photos and documents about famine throughout the world.

He shows her how the elite create false shortages to enslave the masses.

Leni is deeply moved and begins to see things through Werner's eyes.

From that moment on, Leni understood Werner's mission -- to liberate humanity from injustice and domination.

As they leave the baroque archive, Leni feels the anguish in her heart being transformed back to her previous admiration, but this time... with the depth of a love... reborn.

Oh, my love.

How could I ever have doubted you?

She begs him to forgive her... and promises to help ensnare his enemies.

She arranges this secret meeting with the head of the Resistance, by telling him that she will give the map --

Remember the map?

Only to him.

I believe this... is what you want.


Well done.

So often, I was tempted to steal it from him myself, but some things are best done by a woman, a woman who betrays the man she loves.

And there is something else I have wanted... almost as much as the map.


You know very well.


I've prepared a lavish banquet for two.

I'm not hungry.

I am... for you.



Werner hears her sing.

She sings like never before.

She sings of her eternal love for him and begs him not to cry, because her sacrifice was not... in vain.

The end.

Well, what'd you think?

You told it well. Next time, tell one I like.

Come off it. The love story was divine.

Forget about the rest. It's so perfect.

When Leni...

What's going on?

What is it?

That guy is Americo.


The man with my passport!


They don't know he's here.

Who doesn't know?

Please, Valentin. Maybe I can help.

Good morning. Did you sleep well?

Turn the other way, will you?


Because you'll laugh.

At what?

Something on any healthy man, that's all.

Whoo. A hard-on.

Well, that is healthy. Shall I close my eyes, too?

Hey, I missed breakfast. Why didn't you wake me?

I told the guard not to bring us anything as long as our food holds up.

Damn it, Molina. Stop running my life for me!

They already took him away.

I didn't want to wake you.

The water's almost hot if you want some tea.


-Have some cake. -You eat it.

Oh, come on, let me spoil you a little.

Back off, Molina.

It's not my fault they killed your friend --

Shut up! You damn faggot!


Oh! Oh, Luisa. My favorite friend. all the wonderful things Mama brought me.

Here's a special treat!

Assorted bonbons.

What's the matter? You don't like candy?

About the -- this morning.

Uh, about my temper. I'm really sorry.

Oh, nonsense.

It -- It wasn't even you I was mad at.

I've been thinking maybe I am mad at you.


Because you're so kind.

I don't --

I don't want to feel obligated to treat you the same way.

"Unable to take.

Unable to give."

Every day he opens up more and more with me.

Just give me a few more days. I'm sure he'll talk.

If he doesn't, he'll be interrogated again.

And thoroughly this time.

But he's too weak to be tortured.

And if he drops dead, we all lose out.

I can't take anybody being nice to me without asking anything in return.

If I'm very nice to you it's because...

I want your friendship and...

No -- Yeah.


Why not say it? Your affection.

The same way that I try to be good to my mother, who's never harmed anyone and who accepts me for what I am and loves me.


It's like a gift from heaven... and the only thing that keeps me going.

The only thing.

And you, too, are a very good person.

Very selfless and devoted.

Risking your life for your ideals, ready to die, even in here, for what you believe in.

Am I embarrassing you?


Well, sir, there might be a way to speed this up.

I'm not sure, but I'm...

It's just a hunch.

Say it straight, Molina.

Well, you know how inmates are, sir.

When -- When a cellmate leaves... they feel all sentimental and helpless.

So, um...

Well, he's gotten a bit attached to me, so if he thought that I was being released, he's bound to open up and talk, get a few things off his chest.

What do you think?

So, that's why I respect you and like you... and hope that you feel the same way about me.

So I want us always to be friends.


The reason I... wanted to get this in the open is... because I may be leaving, since I just heard from the warden that I may be paroled soon.


Tell him that you're up for parole, that we are going to move you to another cell in 24 hours.

Yes, sir.

And this is your last chance, so get going.

You've got 24 hours.

One thing, sir.

You can't catch a fish without bait.

I, um, I need more food.

This time, sir, I've prepared a list.

They'll probably move me to another cell in 24 hours.

My lawyer says that's the procedure.

I don't want to get my hopes up too high.

Do you want an apple?

No, thanks.

I guess I should be happy for you.

I don't know.

Yes. All I wanted in life was to get out of here and take care of my mother.

Nothing else mattered, but now that my wish might be...

Be happy, damn it. I'd give anything to get out.

But is it fair?


That I always end up with nothing?

That I don't have anything truly my own in life?

You've got your mother.

Yes, but listen, though, she's had a life and lived it.

She had a husband and a son. But I'm still waiting.

At least she's still alive.

But so am I.

When is my life supposed to begin?

When do I strike it lucky and have something for my own?

Right now you just got lucky. Take advantage of it.

You're getting out.

And do what? Hang out with my friends?

A bunch of silly old queens like me?

Tell a few jokes till I can't stand the sight of them, because they're a bunch of mirrors that send me running for my life.

My life of waiting for nothing?

Tell a movie. You'll feel better.

Once upon a time... in a tropical island far away...

...there lived a strange woman.

She wore a long gown of black lamé that fit her like a glove.

But the poor thing -- she was caught in a giant spider web that grew out of her own body.

One day... a shipwrecked man drifted onto the beach.

She fed him and cared for his wounds.

She nourished him with love and brought him back to life.

When he awoke...

...he gazed up at the spider woman... and saw...

...a perfect teardrop slide from under her mask.

Why is she crying?

I don't know.

Why do you always need explanations?

Valentin, I'm so tired. I'm tired of suffering.

You're not the only one they've hurt.

You don't know.

I hurt so much inside.

Where does it hurt you?

In my neck and shoulders.

Why does the sadness always jam up in the same spot?

Please don't touch me.

Can't a friend even pat your back?

It only makes it worse.


'Cause I've fallen in love with you.

I'm sorry, Valentin. I wish it hadn't happened.

I understand. Don't be ashamed.

Can I touch you?

If it doesn't disgust you, I'd like you to.

Can I touch your scar?



Do what you want with me because that's what I want.

If it doesn't disgust you.


You are so kind to me.


You're the one who's kind.

Wait, I'm squeezed against the wall.

That's better.

No, wait, let me lift my legs.

You know, when I woke up, I put my hand to my eyebrow... to feel my scar.

You don't have one.

Like I wasn't me anymore. As if somehow...

I was you.

Look, let's not talk about this.

Let's not talk about anything at all.

Just for this morning, I'm asking.

Aren't you going to ask me why?


Because I'm happy.

I'm really happy, and I don't want to spoil it.

The nicest thing about feeling happy...

is that you think you'll never feel unhappy again.

You shit-face motherfuck.


Let me handle this.

Look at me, Molina.

What's the matter?

You're afraid this group will kill you?

Is that it?

No, sir, I want to help.

So what did he say?


Wouldn't it be worse if I told you something that was not true?

I'll have to move you to another cell, Molina.

No, sir, please don't do that.

As long as I'm with him, there's still a chance that he might talk.

You faggot piece of shit!

You fell in love with that bastard!

Okay, Molina. You can go.

Get your things ready. You're leaving today.


The minister approved your parole.

Oh. God. Thank you, sir.

Thank you.

And no more hanky-panky with the little boys.

Oh, no, sir. I swear.

They -- They would never suspect you.

I mean, really, there's no risk at all.

I'm sorry. I can't do it.

I'm -- I'm just too afraid.

All you have to do is give them a message... from any public phone.

No. No names. No phone numbers. Nothing.

I'm terrified of the police.


I guess I shouldn't drag you into this.

I swear, Valentin.

My only desire is to stay here with you.

Take care of yourself.

Valentin, I've only ever loved two people in my life.

My mother and you.

I'm gonna miss you, Molina.

At least the movies.

Yeah. Whenever I go to sleep, I'll probably be thinking of you and your... crazy movies.

Whenever I see bonbons, I'll be thinking of you.

Valentin, there's something I'd like to ask you that you've never done, although we've done much more.

A kiss.

Okay, but first promise me something.

I told you I can't, and I'm so sorry.

No, no, no, no, no.

Promise me you will never let anybody humiliate you again.

That you'll make them respect you.

Promise me you'll never let anybody exploit you again.

Nobody has the right to do that to anybody.

I promise. Thank you.


What? The kiss?

No. The...

The phone number.

Wait a few days. Dial two times, then hang up.

The third time...

Molina. Let's go.


Good luck, Molina.

Come on.

A beer.

Subject was granted a special parole by the minister of justice on orders from the Department of Political Surveillance.

The department believes he will lead our agents to the cadre of Valentin Arregui.


Whoo-hoo! Luisa!

Look who's here.

Nice to see you!

The return of the leopard woman!

Don't pay attention to them. You look great!

10 years younger, darling. Doesn't she?

Let's watch the show.

Oh, shut up, you bunch of faggots!

Now I would like to welcome home a very dear friend, a cherished sister, who spent Lord knows how many precious nights to pay a stupid debt to this hypocritical society.

This is for you, lovely Luisa.

Surveillance reveals subject has not returned to work and almost never leaves home.

He spends his evenings staring out the window for no apparent reason.

You sure you won't eat something?

Just coffee.

You want to talk, Molina? Is there something wrong?

No, I'm just not going to see you for a while.

I'm going away.

With another boy?

That's good.

Don't get arrested again.

You're too old for it.

I have a message from Valentin Arregui.

Yes, a pay phone.

Excuse me, is that really necessary?

Um, all right.


I'll be wearing a red scarf.

You don't have to close the account.

There's no penalty if you maintain --

Yes. Thank you. Do you have an envelope, please?

Thank you.

Now, this... is for Mama.

To take care of her while I'm gone.


All right, I'll handle it.

Wherever you're going, it's probably for the best.

Mama, you look so beautiful.

Remember, Mama, when I was little and you used to come into my room and kiss me good night.

I always pretended to be asleep, but I was always waiting for your kiss.

And though you're sleeping now, I know you understand me.

It's time for me to take care of my own life.

You understand, don't you, Mama?

Don't be sad.

Go that way. Move, quick.

Who are you?

I have a message from Valentin.

Are you Lydia?

Yes. Get in quick.

Get him!

Molina! Stop!

Stop, Molina!

Get the car. Move. Hurry!

Stand up. Move. Get in the car!

The number.

Tell me the telephone number, and you go to the hospital.

Talk, you fucking fag!

The number!

Subject was shot to death by the extremists.

His recent activities, such as closing his bank account, suggest that he planned to escape with them.

Also the way he was shot seems to indicate that he had agreed, if necessary, to be eliminated by them.

In any case, it appears that he was more deeply involved than we suspected.

This is morphine.

So you can get some rest, okay?

Oh, my God.

The way they worked you over.


Just don't tell anyone about this, or I'll lose my job.

Just count to 40 and you'll be asleep.


Come, Valentin. Come with me.

Don't be afraid. You won't wake up in the cell.

What about Molina?

Come, my love.

Only he knows if he died happy or sad.

I love you so much.

That's the one thing I never said to you because I was afraid of losing you forever.

That can never happen now.

This dream is short, but this dream is happy.