The Journey (1992) Script

Edition Downloaded from YTS.MX Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX

At the world's arse Ushuia – Tierra del Fuego


Hey, Pablo!


Five minutes!

I said five minutes!


Go on!

And your smock?

What smock?

They're obligatory!

Since Garrido.

Don't cause me any trouble, boys.

No arguing about Headmaster Garrido's orders.


Kraus, your cap!

Why? – Because.

It's snowing...

It's starting to snow in again.

What a calamity!

The heating oil is used up. – Already?

I think someone's stealing it.

This country is a freezer.

Who fell?

General Saavedra.

Further away. It was General Pueyrredon.

The materialists' arrogant vanity pales before the mysteries of our Lord.

Let us be humble and have faith.

Let us follow for Him our ancestors' example of virtue and sacrifice.

We must adapt ourselves to what is modern.

The world is mathematics.

Our country, too.

Whatever cannot be calculated serves no purpose.

What counts is the tangible country.

You will live off this land, not from your dreams.

I caught it!

What are you doing?


Go out!

Argentines, have confidence, you will survive. President Frog The hole in the ozone layer provokes the demise of numerous small creatures in the Australian Oce...

They destroy the phytoplankton which is the basis of our ecosystem.

It has been calculated that in the year 2000 the temperature of the Earth...

She's right.

They're destroying the environment, and no one reacts.

I don't, either. And yet ecology fascinates me.

And biology?

I'm going to be graduating and don't know what to do. I'm keen on everything.

How much longer will I hesitate?

Am I perhaps afraid of failing?

Will I procrastinate much longer?

Maybe anthropology...

The Indians have always interested me.

They lived here 4000 years ago.

How did they manage?

They survived everything except the invasion of the white man.

And if I studied history?

To understand the past.

Papa says there's not just one road.

He went from geology to comics.

That doesn't mean anything!

I should write.

Pablo's right.

Whoever isn't creative is spineless.

He knows what he wants.

To be a musician and composer.

I've finished the text.


I'm afraid of leaving.

Maybe because I love you.

How can I leave you?

I'll exterminate you!

Go on, roaches, into your cells!

Do you think I'm a fool?

Five warnings!

Go on, faster, faster!

Don't let me catch you again!

Who was it this time?

The Secretary of the Junta. – Moreno?

He took a dive.

Poor man!

And he fought so hard.

What a country! – What misery!

Everything's collapsing.

And that's nothing.

Something else?

Ramirez just told me they've stolen the General's horse.

That's the limit!

Away with it, before it's stolen.

Where is Ramirez?

Why didn't he tell me?

How awful!

I'm going to investigate.

San Martin's horse was stolen. Where can anyone use that horse?

At the foundry.

There's poverty everywhere.

Everything has to be chained down.

This month chalk and notebooks.

And the new boiler.

Please keep an eye on it for me.

These guys are capable of anything.

Quiet! Why are you laughing?

It's a scandal.

I'll investigate and find the culprit.

Go away!

Martin Never, come to my office.

Madam, your son has merited 20 warnings.

For your sake, I'll give him only three.

He already has 21.

Here they are.

You signed them.


Laura, we'll be rich!

Raoul! – Yes, my love?

He's being expelled from school.

He forged my signature.

Bravo, and you're laughing.

You wretch!

You should be ashamed of yourself.

Take your feet off there!

Don't make such a fuss!

Is it nothing to you?

Don't get upset, you do the same thing.


At the factory.

That has nothing to do with it!

Must I put up with you much longer?

I was 6 when my parents divorced. During the dictatorship.

They fired Papa at the refinery.

He went to Peru.

My mother married this good-for-nothing.

Cut out that noise.

What are you staring at with your shitty face? You idiot!

Watch your table manners.

You, too?

What shall we do with this fool?

Eat, my darling.

And afterwards you'll want money again?

That's what I was waiting for.

Stop it or leave the table!

Wash your plate, the maid isn't coming.

Did you hear your mother?

Don't piss me off!

I have to go find Papa.

Why doesn't he write to me?

Confide in this little notebook.

It will help you.

It's hard to know what one wants.

You're the person I love most in all the world. Wherever I am, I'll always wait for you...

Your father.

This brochure is my first comic book.

I'll send you drawings of the best-looking people I meet on my trip across the continent.

The inventor of roads.

One evening I had a breakdown in the Andes.

Americo Unfinished joined me.

He told me his story.

You can't imagine the life of a Caribbean black.

They brought us over from the Ivory Coast.

They sold my grandfather to the Amazonian rubber plantations, my father to the Cuban sugar plantations.

They sold me to a banana plantation in Guatemala. I told myself: They have to respect you more than a banana.

You can't imagine what Caribbean dictatorships are like.

I fled.

I ran for hours... when suddenly I realized that I was still among the banana trees.

Their paths keep leading you back to them.

From Vera Cruz to Manaos, from Maracaibo to Punta Arenas, there's not a road I haven't taken, nor a village I haven't stopped in.

Will it go on like this for long?

Raoul has been very kind to us.

He's given us everything.

And in addition, he loves you!

Don't be ungrateful.

You've always had all you wanted.

Except what matters most.

Few children have as much as you.

I can't stand the guy.

He's my husband.

Crazy, how you always stand up for him.

That's not true.

Don't leave.

They're waiting for me.

I've got to go.

It's always the same.

Really, Violeta is waiting for me.

Do you have any money?

I took some of yours.

Hello, my love.

Your father?

He's not here.

A strange habit, always in the dark...

Grandma, you should knock!

Are you asleep, my dear?

Close the door.

She's a pain in the neck!

Thank heavens she's short-sighted.

They're going to throw me out.

I want to go visit my father, see South America, see if I'm able to do it.

How do you plan to do it?

The main thing is to make a decision.

You know, Martin, I'd love to go with you.

Seriously? – Yes.

I've never been to Buenos Aires.

We'll go see my grandparents and go to Brazil.

Where is your father?

In Paraiso, in the Amazon.

A good day to all of you in your slanting position. Have fun, all of you!

Today, the deregulation of the island will effect a slope of 32º to starboard, with heavy winds.

Don't fall.

Who on earth is stealing heating oil?

Garrido's mafia!

Nonsense! Are you serious?

The stealing began when he arrived.

The supply of smocks, the new boiler...

San Martin's horse. – That, too?

THIEF That's too much!

Where is Ramirez?

I'm going to investigate.

Why didn't you tell me?

How horrible!

Even if it's hard to admit,

it's the Argentines' fault.

Who had the notion of independence?

The patriots!

Why are you laughing?

Stand up, please!

Stop laughing!

Otherwise you'll be dismissed.

Hold tight!

The island is swaying!


Starboard wind!

Leave your cells!



Listen to this: more than

4 million unemployed.

100 million children dead by 2000.

Do you care for this topic? That's all.

Aren't you feeling well?

I'm pregnant.


You, my love from the end of the world, with your Tierra del Fuego skin, you leave me here dying.

I want to leave, but I'm afraid, maybe because I love you and don't know how I can leave you.

I'll turn the world on its head to return to your deep-sea scent, because I love you.

I'll roam through your body and the world which is the earth of my fire.

I caught you!

To the director's office!


I have a mission to accomplish here.

I don't think I'm being unjust.

I used to be a judge.

You must understand that for disciplinary and moral reasons, your son cannot stay in this school.

Let me explain...

What shall we do with him?

Dura lex... sed lex.

Poor Pablo!

His father didn't even hit him.

He never spoke to him again.

He didn't want to cultivate the family land, so they took away his house.

Guys, I'm clearing off.

To Buenos Aires, going to make music.

You've made up your mind, Screwdriver!

If you don't do what you want to, they snatch you. I've chosen music.

Who will you play with?

What do your parents say about it?

That I'm crazy.

That I'm going to die of hunger.

How will you survive without money?

You know what I have instead?


To write, compose songs... you don't need money, but time.

New music. Eight themes.

They've got to be super.

You've worked like a horse.

I've only started.

In the beginning you think inspiration, the magic... it will all just come.

But it's not like that.

You remember the painter Luisito?

You know what he told me? To be good, really good, you don't have to work like a horse, but like twenty horses.

For twenty years!

And be inspired.

I'm taking off like an Argentine, Latin-American dragon.

Ciao, Screwdriver.

I'll be waiting for you in Buenos Aires!

Since arriving on the island I hear that we're heading for a catastrophe because the world is tilting.

Isn't it a sign of maturity to accept ourselves as we are?

Isn't it more honest to admit that we live aslant?

Thanks to private initiative we can replace the Liberator's horse.

It's not made of bronze like the old one and it doesn't have the former sheen, but it represents the county's eternal spirit.

It's cardboard!

Hello, Papa.


What did I tell you?

I don't want to see you here again!

Hello, my love.

Are you ill? What's wrong?

Tell me.

I had an abortion.

Two days ago.

I don't believe you.

I went with Grandma.

You really did that?

You let them do it?

It was my decision.

And what about me?

I was afraid.

That beastly father of yours.

You don't understand a thing.

Papa says, when you make a decision, your whole life changes to fit into your scheme of things.

Like a journey full of stops, detours, errors, setbacks, where you seek yourself to have a new and better start.

To Buenos Aires

I'm going... going to start my journey.

I'm going... and I'll go dreaming.

I know that I don't know who I am, don't know where this will lead me.

I know that a journey means discovery, that to live means to choose, that I am seeking my reality.

I know that a trip means solitude.

I am like a bicycle

rolling out my story.

I know I'll arrive in the end and that I'll always, always return.

I'm all that I've experienced, including my own self-doubts.

I know that nothing will change if I don't risk going to the end.

The Strait of Magellan.

When I think that here there are more than a thousand shipwrecks...

My ancestors came from Asturias

to look for gold.

They were stranded in Santa Cruz.

How old this one is!

Could it have been Magellan's?

It reminds me of one of Papa's comics.

One very stormy morning the old boatman Somebody Boga told me of his odyssey.

There was an old fishing village on the canals of Tierra del Fuego.

One day...

they were attacked by shipwrecked, famished people.

The survivors abandoned their village. They fled to the region of the southern seas.

Their children were born there.

And ever since, they row and row against wind and tides.

When Somebody Boga let me out on the other shore, he said to me:

Tomorrow will be better!

I've gotten lost.

I've been biking for two days now, but I haven't seen a soul.

I don't get it.

Am I in Chile or still in Argentina?

My bike broke down. No English...

Are these the Malvinas?

Drink maté.

What colony?

Do you like it here?

Are there many sheep?

Is this a farm?

This isn't part of Argentina?

But who sold you all that?

I see.

And to go to Buenos Aires?

Do you want to kill me?

What's wrong, buddy?

Where are you going with that old thing?

What business of yours?

Don't put on airs, my friend.

Come on, climb in.

I'll take you along for a stretch.

Where are you going? – To Buenos Aires.

What's that accent of yours?

I'm from the Caribbean.

My father's Cuban, my mother Guatemalan, and to top it all, I was born in Panama.

What's your name? – Unfinished.

Americo Unfinished?

That's me, driving this vehicle.

That's my father's comic book!

I never saw it.

It's rather me who thought up your father.

Keep your eyes on the road!

You don't see anything?

Not even with a magnifying glass.

I drive with faith.

I imagine the road.

I feel it in my bones.

In 50 years I've never once gotten lost.

How old are you?

60 and I don't know how many dictatorships and invasions.

Horrible! I remember everything, from the assassination of Sandino to the death of Torrijos!

I forget nothing. Absolutely nothing.

What a catastrophe!

The day I die, there won't be any more troubadours.

But new singers will fall down out of the sky.

That's the Wan-Wan-Co of Havana.

Hello, two red.

Someone with two loves, loves them like brothers. The cage in one hand, the little bird in the other.

That's a rumba.

Where are you from?

What are you doing here?

You going far?

You'll freeze to death.

Can I take you somewhere?

It's almost dark.


Get on, don't be afraid.

Going to Buenos Aires for vacation?

A student? Does my talking bother you?

We don't have to talk.

As if we knew each other...

It's better like that.

I don't know.

Don't you think so?

You won't say anything?

Buenos Aires by way of Laguna Sur?

Shit, where am I?

Dry yourself off well.

Watch out for the cesspool.

To go to Buenos Aires?

It's a long way.

How do I get there?

With Somebody. – Nobody's here.

Somebody Boga, at your service.

Can I put it in? – Sure, climb in.

Help me, it's floating away!

Somebody Boga?

Expert on tides and shipwrecks.

The one from the comics?

I don't read that stuff.

Where are you from?

The other side.

I'm Chilean.

Still a boatman?

The Pinochet tide washed me up here.

And here I still am, stuck fast.

And these people?

They've had enough of filthy water.

And this boat, Boga?

The Reliable.

What are they doing? – Propaganda.

Help for the flood victims.

Rice, dried shad, and bait for fishing.

Hi, Marisa! What are you doing?

Washing dollars?

If I only could, with so many kids.

"Fish," says President Frog.

Participate in the Argentine miracle!


A bad flood?

It ruined everything... not a single cow still alive.

And the people stay?

Where can they go? They don't want to lose the little bit they still have.

But there's nothing left!

And the ground?

It's listed on the stock exchange.

They're selling shares of water.

Father Marcos!

Still surrounded by your lambs!

What else can I do?

Submerged, but full of hope!

That pot smells good.

A bouillon of tiger fish and catfish.

Come eat a bowl of it.

I'm taking him to Buenos Aires.

May God be with you!

Could you see the flood coming?

No one wanted to see it.

We've gotten used to it.

Posters of the Frog? Here?

Frogs live in water.

Hey! What are you pasting on my wall?

That's disgusting!

Go mess up other walls!

Bill, it all tallies.


Laura, we'll be rich!

Floods in greater Buenos Aires.

We're lucky.

The cesspool.

In the south the water is barely neck-high. Farther south it comes up to below your nostrils.

Where are we?

In the center of the city.

What's that stench?

It's shit?!

Of course. They shit 4 million times a day here.


What is it, Madam?

You didn't come yesterday.

We can't handle it.

Remove this crap, it drives my customers away!

I've already had the shit bag here.

What a lot of shit!


Don't let it get you, little guy.

There's some syrup next to your feet.

Take a spoonful.

What is it?

It's called antivomitive.

Deputy Esquival!


What's happening?

The President will make an appearance.

Dr. Frog, the reason for your visit?

The enlargement of the sewage system, thanks to foreign investors.

But we haven't touched bottom?

Absolutely. I'd say we continue to navigate, the wind astern.

Has the level dropped?

It will barely stay above the estimated values.

Do you want to add anything more?

Argentines, don't rock the boat...

Have confidence! You'll stay afloat.

Remember my campaign slogan:

Argentines, dive in and swim!

Those were the words of our President.

Accompanied by his committee, he is going to the Ministry for Social Action in his presidential catamaran.

Do you know the Nevers?

From which landing stage?

I don't know.

Look behind the Nauti-Shopping.


That's Buenos Aires! The only city in the world where the dead navigate.

Do they fish coffins?

It's much more difficult to fish out the living.

Misfortune is always good business.

What a comic strip!

Alberto Mujan!

May peace be with the deceased Mujan!

Fiscal Never!

May peace be with the deceased Never!

That's my grandfather!


Mrs. Never!

Is a Never here?

Who's calling me?

Catolico, the fireman.

What brings you here?

I'm bringing your husband back.

He was drifting alone toward the Gulf.

I can't believe it.

Please bring him to me.

The tide raised him, Madam.

The vaults are crumbling.

Of course, everything is rusting.

My love...

You've come to visit me.

All day long I've felt that you would be returning to me.

Your grandson.

Me, Grandmother.

How big you are!

How could I have recognized you?

My boy!

How happy I am!

How are you?

Very well, with so many visitors.

When did he die? – A month ago.

We can't yet leave each other.

Imagine, 45 years together!

That's why he came back.

Lucrecia, your cousin.

Help me!

He hated humidity.

The flood killed him.

These were his favorite biscuits.

If only Rogelio could see you!

How long has it been?

10 years since you and your mother left.

She must be worried if she doesn't hear from you.

Mother's going insane.

She burned my last letter from Papa.


Just leave the spoon.

Whatever falls down is lost.

How is Papa?

He married a Brazilian.

Her name is Janaina, an anthropologist.

I have some snapshots.

Do they have children?

I don't know.

He never writes to me.

Pretty, isn't she?

The feathered serpent.

He's crazy, isn't he?

He's expecting me.

How do you know?

He said so several times in letters.

Your father adores you.

He's promised you a lot, hasn't he?

I wrote to him when your grandfather died. But no reaction!

I don't know if he received my letter.

What's that noise?

It's Tito's drum.

Whenever your grandfather broadcasts, he accompanied him from a distance.


Here is the Voice of Noise.

At the microphone, Fiscal Rogelio Never, addressing the people from the free radio of Villa Ajena.

We denounce President Frog's new project.

We will not remain silent!

Let us launch the War of Noise.

All together, at the same hour.

Water makes good business.

We cash in on everything, Martin.

The big boom now is in plots of water.

What used to be here?

A big park.

It cost a fortune to keep it clean.

Every tourist wants to buy a share.

This wonderful wood is unique in the world.

As in Marbella, they come here on week-ends, to catch wolf fish.

We are the Venice of the south.

And she doesn't want to sell her ruins.


Did you hear that?

She doesn't understand anything.

Not another word!

You can't live in the water.

I'm here to help you.

Did you help when Rogelio was fired?

Everyone his own opinions.

Yours used to be the same.

That was 40 years ago!

The world changes.


I'm your brother. – You were!

You'll be lonely as a toadstool.

Certainly not! Rogelio is with me.

You're burying him for the second time.

I'm completely lucid, I know what I'm saying. You were elected to battle the flood.

And now you're using it to speculate.

The old ideologies are outdated.

Even the Berlin Wall has fallen.

You talk like the Frog!

You're only a tadpole!

And proud of it! The young will inherit an exceptional country.

14 provinces sold within one year!

The highest bidder gets the Obelisk and the Cabildo. And you're not selling.

Stop it.

I'm not selling the house.

I'll stay here until the end.

Floating on the water, like Rogelio.

Thank you for coming, my love.

But please don't do it again.

It's dangerous.

Take good care of yourself.

In Buenos Aires no one drifts like me.

I drift through life, seek how to get away.

I drift in this swamp of oil and shit.

I drift in this lousy, nauseating world.

Frogs and tadpoles mill around down on the bottom.

Mafiosi, civil servants, hypocrites, everything in Argentina, among shit and ruins, drifts around with my dreams that no one controls.

I sing, and they take everything away and leave terror in their wake; they work with drug addicts and buy up the country with laundered money.

Are you waiting for someone?

What's your name?

Say something!

You're so secretive.

My name's Martin Never.

You laugh!

It's no doing of mine.

Do you always gaze like that?

You still won't say anything?

Don't just go away.

Do I annoy you?

Can I come with you?

How can I reach you?

Tell me!

How can I reach you?

The Voice of the Cesspit! Papers!

The War of Noise prohibited!

A search for Tito El Esperanzador!

What's that, Boga?

El Esperanzador.

Tito El Esperanzador?

I'd say Tito the Memory.

Where's that coming from?

From far away.

It's the "fugitive drummer."

Tito's drum could be heard a long time ago.

But his legend arose later, during the succession of dictatorships and betrayals.

Everyone had lost hope.

They thought Tito was dead.

But one evening

Tito El Esperanzador returned with a strange drum.

And when the repression began, it reverberated elsewhere.

This "damned echo" rekindled hope and the War of Noise.

At last I've found you!

I'm the son of Nicolas Never.

You met him at a demo.

He did a comic book about it.

But I'm not Tito.

I'm scarcely a shadow of myself.

The damned echo, you hear it?

He told me that your drum reverberated day and night.

How's that possible?

Come, I'll show you.

It even has a door.

It's playing by itself!

Do you think I never sleep?

Battery, amplifiers, loudspeakers.

It resonates from all over.

Of course, Sir.

I play with the wind.

Where do you get these rhythms?

The same beat.

I've been improving it for years.

The heartbeat of the people so to speak.

The drum has a soul.

It pulsates like the heart.

The day it stops, it will die.

What are you fleeing from?


The War of Noise!

Crazy, my grandfather's invention!

I like the letter where he writes:

even if we are inundated, another country is possible.

Everything began with a dream in Buenos Aires.

Across IndoAmerican But I never would have thought that the landscape, too, would change.

The Bolivian forests a Sahara!

Or these plateaus now garbage dumps for toxic waste.

What am I doing in the midst of all this?

Laura, we'll be rich!

A report on taxes and tributes.

All citizens are required today to bear the following burden of the foreign debt:

14.95 kg and 1.65 from the last adjustment.

Fulfill your obligation!

Settle your daily account!



Listen to the Voice of the Collection-Truck for the Foreign Debt.

Bring your contributions for a flourishing and prosperous Peru.

Hello, boss.

What is there to eat here?

This is a hairdresser's shop.

There's a lot to buy at the market.

Do you want a haircut?

No, I don't have any biscuits.

Bread, chocolate? – No.

I have salt.

And to eat? – Nothing.

Give me matches.

Two boxes.

I sell them one at a time.

And salt.

How much?

No, it's only by measure.

Where are you from?

By bicycle?

What's wrong?

Are you drunk?

Don't you feel well?

Lift your head.

The old man told me so much!

The Quechuas had a different notion of time and life.

They worked for themselves and for the community.

Nowadays it's forced labor.

The Mayas discovered that the Earth is round.

They discovered the zero before us.

Despite that, they were invaded.

Within just a few years millions of them were exterminated.

That's monstrous!

When will someone admit it?

They take what belongs to us.

We'll never be able to pay this foreign debt.

Comrades, let us cancel it!

Some are watching us with terror

and continue to defend themselves.

You can't stop the Foreign-Debt Truck!

You're committing a crime forbidden by law!

I read one day that it's important that differences also be respected.

Where is the parade ground?

When I think that at school we celebrated the Day of Race!

Long ago white men came, without women.

They had red necks.

They left thieves, liars and gamblers here.

What will become of our people?

Do you want to buy?

Very nice. Do you make them?

This is ceramic.

My bike!

Stop him!

Where is my rucksack?

This is where I live.

In the Sun Temple?

No, in the patio behind it.

My godparents are watchmen here.

The most sacred temple of the Incas.

The Spanish destroyed it and built this church over it.

Come, there's no problem.


Where were you? – At the pharmacy.

You're always outside.

Hurry up, there's a lot of ironing.

Bring me my shawl.

Don't worry, the temple is shut.

No one ever comes here.

You're soaked, you'll catch cold.

I'm four months pregnant.


But without a father.

The son of the madam.

He's studying in Lima.

He raped me one day.

What a son of a bitch!

Did you denounce him?

No, otherwise they'd fire me.

My mother lives in the country.

My brother and I came here to eat.

I'm leaving Cuzco.

I think there's nothing greater than a beautiful story.

To love and feel loved.

How did Papa do all these years?

He married Janaina.

Was he happy?

Or lonely, like me?

I understand now what he wrote me:

It is just as important to achieve fulfillment as it is to enjoy life.

It would be hard to realize in dying:

I've committed the worst of sins...

I was not happy.

Your papers! The Brazilian border.

Please show your tickets and papers.

I'm going to northern Amazonia.

Just a few more days to Paraiso.

The world's biggest gold mines.

How will he react when he sees me?

Will he recognize me?

Courage! The soil is fertile there, but exhausted. Let us treat it with love.

Here, my brothers, is a brother who hopes we will take his hand.


Join our despairing group in its search for bread, hope and faith.

The gods are angry.

Everything is against you.

The soil is no longer fertile, the birds no longer sing.

But to whom should we kneel down?

He alone will pardon us.

The anger of the gods will descend... on your heads.

I see what He sees.

Man understands nothing.

Let us not lose hope and faith in this unjust world.

To Paraiso, all together!

You're underage. Your permit?

I'm with my father.

You're inventing stories, Argentinian!

I swear it, Papa's already gone through.

What do want at the mine?

Visit my mother.

Do you think I'm a fool!

He really did travel with his father.

I give you my word.

OK, go on.

I'll find my father!

Parana, come here you little bastard.

Is that all?

That's all they gave me. – Who?

The priest and Martin.

Are you Martin?

Where's the rest?

Calm down.

What was that? – Cocaine.

Do you know Nicolas Never?

I don't understand.

Who knows the Argentine geologist?

I know him.

I'm his son.

Do you know where he lives?

He went away several months ago.

He was ill.

Do you know where he is now?

No, I don't.

What will you do now?

You don't know anyone.

I can't read.

The main square of Paraiso.

It's a long way.

I'm broke.

Me too.

Shall we work at the mine?

You motherfucker, no you don't!

Your bag is empty.

Come up here, you bastard!

You want to rob the boss, or what?

Take another sack, and fill it!

Come on, little fucker, come up here!

Get out of the way, clear the ladder!

The stupid bastard's not Brazilian.

Bravo, Argentinian!

The mighty

want to enter His kingdom.

The white men must descend from their towers

to see that mulatto America, with its meat and grain, stuffs the swine of Japan and of the whole world!

It is only right that we also feed our own.

They're hungry and out of work.

Where are there people more skilled than the Latin-Americans, who with their own hands build up this noble continent?

Here they are, taking a job for hardly 3 dollars a day, 20 times less than in the north.

Who cultivated your soil with more wisdom and love?

See for yourselves!

Are there any workers more patient than these natives?

Who can brave better the heat, the bad weather and history?

The Indians of Xingu, of Mato Grosso, the Caribbean, Paraguay, the Andes...

They manage to survive patiently after so many massacres and persecutions.

Do we have any doubts about the most wounded of races, who survived slavery, invasion, and the plague.

Here they are, men being marketed – they cost almost nothing.

Hardly two dollars a day!

Come nearer, gentlemen, make your offers.

Here TV Paraiso.

Our daily image of tightening.

The Minister of Economy requests that we tighten our belts by two holes.

To save energy, and so that you will become more slender: diet.

A special report from the main square of Paraiso.

We are showing the new belts from the World Economic Fund.

How beautiful!

What freedom of movement!

What elegant agility!

What a response to all the critics!

And now, an economic and dietetic supermodel, the 3-in-1.

For those who live together.

Mr. President, what do you think of these new belts?

A brilliant idea.

A great economic measure for the country and incumbent on every citizen.

May God bless us!

A tight-belted samba school!

Long live Brazil!

Madam Janaina?

Who's there?

The son of Nicolas.

I can't believe it! Come in, Martin!

When did you arrive?

Two days ago.

Your father is in Mexico.

He's better now.

He's with Faustino, his publisher.

Is he coming back?

I haven't heard from him any more.

You're wearing one of those, too?

It's obligatory.

It's hard to live belted up.

Did Papa also wear one?

He left before.

We've been separated for a year now.

I didn't know.

He didn't tell you?

He doesn't write often.

Mama burned his last letter.

But why?

She was probably afraid you might want me to come here.

That's ridiculous! Poor Helena.

Your father spoke of it once.

I don't know what happened.

I would have liked to have you here.

I'm doing a video on the quality of life in Brazil.

What's your opinion of the government?

You kill me with that question!

I'll be shot!

The government is neither good nor bad.

It's like the guy who wanted to cross a bridge and they said to him:

If you say God is good and the devil bad, you'll fall off the bridge.

So he said, "God is good and the devil's not bad."

At the end of the bridge he said, "To the devil with the devil!

God alone is good!"

That's your father.

He accompanied me when I went exploring.

Is he crazy?

What's that on his head?

A peasant hat from the north.

He's really a kid, Nicolas.

How do I get to Mexico?

With a truck through Venezuela and Colombia.

But I don't advise it.

Stop! They're going to steal the truck!

My bike!

Hey boy! Is that comfortable?

What the hell are you doing here?

Get in! Don't stay alone here.

Where've you come from? – Panama.

That was real slaughter.

What's wrong?

You have a head like a sick scorpion!

It was ghastly. You can't imagine such cold-blooded killing.

It was horrible.

I know what you mean.

I never forget anything.

I've seen all sorts of crimes – carnage, assassinations, invasions...

But nowhere like in Panama.

At Christmas they bombarded my beloved neighborhood of Chorillo.

That's where the Yanks tested their weapons and their stealth planes.

In six minutes, 3,000 dead.

When was it?

I didn't know that.

3,000 dead and not a word in the press.

The life of a Latin-American isn't worth beans.

How many more must die before they respect us? You know what, my boy?

We've learned so much!

It will never be like it was, neither for them nor for us.

The Caribbean!

A news item of international importance.

The Organization of Kneeling Countries is holding its annual meeting in the rooms of the Pilton Hotel.

Latin-American representatives are present, as well as the American President, Mr. Wolf.

Here he is, accompanied by his Brazilian and Argentine counterparts, the Presidents Romulo and Frog.

Here he is talking to the President of the Association of Kneeling Women of Latin America.

Dr. Frog will now speak to you about the advantages of an average existence.

We are aware that in the face of extreme danger, the kneeling position is the only correct one – far removed from the verticality so dear to those who insist on living upright and who thus expose their heads to every random bullet.

And equally far removed from the horizontality preferred by the lazy, the out-of-date and the dead.

Gentlemen, this is why the kneeling position is the only modern and realistic alternative, capable of ensuring on our continent an average existence in accordance with the requirements of the New International Order.

The ceremony ended on an amiable and unexpected note, a match between Dr. Frog and his friend, Mr. Wolf.

Is Nicolas here?

Where did he go?

To the square, then to Monte Alban.

Monte Alban

Who are you?

His son. And you?


How are you?

What luck! And Papa?

He's fine... don't worry.

Where is he?

If I only knew... It's his first trip since his illness.

Was it serious?

I took him to the hospital.

We talked together day and night,

about politics, women.

How we laughed!

Papa's comics!

I've just published them.

He wanted to return to Argentina, but something was hindering him.

Your mother.

He thinks of her all the time.

They wrote to each other often.

Despite their quarrels?

You can quarrel and separate, but still the other is always there.

Are you sure? – Absolutely.

Stop being so formal with me, it makes me old.

Tell me.

Your father didn't know how to write to her. Her husband is jealous, isn't he?

So he wrote your name on the envelopes.

Mama burned them.

Luckily! They were love letters!

Your father hides nothing, you know.

You mean there's still something between them?

Of course!

He misses her pretty buttocks.

He's like me, a real womanizer.

Did he mention me? – Why, of course!

He was unhappy to be so far from you.

Why didn't he ever come get me?

He didn't want to meet your mother.

Don't worry, some day you'll find him.

I no longer look for him as I used to.

I've found him along the way.

I can see him as he is.

The Nicolas of Mama, of Janaina,

of my grandparents, of Faustino,

and Nicolas as I imagine him.

Even if he's always been away, whatever I desired from him this trip has given me.

I've learned.

No one can help me, do things for me.

I'm starting out on life with all my personages.

There she is again.

I'll never know if she really exists.

If she will vanish again, or if we will go on like this forever.

Some day I'll find Papa.

I've imagined 1000 reunions.

None of them could surprise me.

Here I am!

I travel with the Feathered Serpent.

You didn't expect that now, did you?

It's fantastic!


I heard that you're here and I came to get you.

We'll leave with the Feathered Serpent! We'll fly away!

We're beginning the journey!

I'll rent an apartment and we'll live together.

I'll cook creamed gnocchi for you again.

And I'll find strawberries for you.

Caramel creams. I promise!

What's wrong?

I'm your father.

Answer me.

I won't force you.

I no longer look for him as I used to.

I want to leave him in peace.

We're together.