All About My Mother

I'm going to call.

TRANSPLANT COORDINATION

National Transplant

Organization.

- Manuela, Ramn y Cajal Hospital.

- Yes.

We've got a possible donor.

We've done the first EEG,

and the family has agreed.

Give me the details.

Male, 35 years old.

Blood group?

''O'' positive.

Weight, about 1 50 pounds.

LIVER:

LIVER RECIPIENTS

Not a single drop!

- With Dodoti Diapers...

- Dodotis!

you won't feel a drop!

- Mom!

- What?

The movie's starting.

I'm coming.

Eve Unveiled

They always change the title!

''All About Eve'' should be

''Todo Sobre Eva.''

But that sounds odd.

What are you writing?

Nothing.

Future Pulitzer winners.

ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER

Eat up. You have to put on

a few pounds.

Some day you may have

to work the street to keep me.

You don't need pounds for that.

You need a big dick.

Where did you learn

to talk like that?

- You asked.

- I was joking.

- And you?

- What about me?

Would you prostitute yourself

for me?

I've already done

just about everything for you.

Eat up!

Autograph fiends!

They're not people.

They're little beasts

that run in packs like coyotes.

They're your fans.

They're nobody's fans.

They're juvenile delinquents,

mental defectives.

Fans, indeed!

They never see a play or a movie.

They're never in doors long enough.

Well, there's one indoors

right now.

I brought her back to see you.

Come in, Eve.

I thought you'd forgotten

about me.

Not at all.

Margo,

this is Eve Harrington.

- How do you do, my dear?

- Hello.

Would you like to be

an actress?

It was hard enough

becoming a nurse.

If you were an actress,

I'd write parts foryou.

I was in an amateur group

when I was young.

I wasn't bad.

I must have a picture

somewhere.

I'd love to see it.

I'll look for it later.

Look, Esteban.

I found a picture.

We were doing a show

based on texts by Boris Vian.

Cabaret for intellectuals.

Happy birthday!

- Already?

- It's midnight, sweetheart.

'' Music for Chameleons.''

How did you know I wanted it?

I know you like Capote.

Read me something,

like when I was little.

''Preface.

I started writing

when I was eight.''

See? I'm not the only one.

''I didn't know

that I had chained myself for life...

to a noble

but merciless master.

When God hands you a gift,

he also hands you a whip...

and the whip is intended

only for self-flagellation.''

That's enough

to put you off writing

Don't be so lame.

It's a wonderful preface.

How do you want

to celebrate your birthday?

I'd like to see

one of your seminars.

Why?

I'm writing a story about you

for a competition.

And I'd like to see you act

in those organ donation courses.

Well, I'd have to check

with Mamen.

She's the psychologist

in charge of the seminar.

Fine. Do it.

I don't think I likeyou writing

about me.

Your husband is dead, ma'am.

That's impossible.

We just saw him in the ICU.

He seemed to be breathing.

We've explained that, ma'am.

A machine is breathing for him.

Would you like us

to contact your family?

Idon't have any family.

Just my son.

My God!

How am I going to tell him?

When he was alive,

did your husband say anything...

regarding organ donation?

Did he care about such matters?

When he was alive,

he cared only about living.

But I presume he was concerned

with the lives ofothers.

I don't understand.

What my colleague means

is that your husband's organs...

could save other patients' lives.

But we need

your authorization for that.

You could give him

a transplant?

Not exactly.

The other wayaround, actually.

Now we'll discuss

what happened in the simulation.

Look when you cross the street!

- What were you thinking?

- I had an idea.

An idea!

Give him the tickets.

Why are you looking at me like that?

Do I look awful?

No, you look better than ever.

Look, that must be

the gentleman you were expecting.

You aren't Mr. Huntleigh!

Neither are you!

These finger nails will have

to be trimmed.

The jacket, Doctor.

Ask her to let go ofme!

Please!

Let her go.

Get up.

Lean on my arm...

Miss DuBois.

Thank you.

Who ever you are...

I have always depended

on the kindness of strangers.

Come on, baby.

The worst is over.

Don't touch me.

Don't ever touch me again, bastard!

Watch your language!

Stella, come here.

I'm never coming back

to this house.

Never!

I'd like to get

Huma Rojo's autograph.

- In this weather?

- What's that got to do with it?

What if nobody comes out?

Let's wait a while.

It's my birthday.

Look, autumn's here already.

- So long.

- See you tomorrow.

Nina Cruz really moved you,

didn't she?

No, not her. Stella.

Twenty years ago, we did Streetcar

with the drama group in my town.

I played Stella.

Your father was Kowalski.

Some day you'll have to tell me

all about my father.

All I know is

he died before I was born.

- It isn't an easy story to tell.

- I guess not.

Or you'd have told me by now.

I nearly asked for that

as a birthday present.

I'm not sure

it would be a nice present.

You're wrong.

It would be the best one.

Then I'll tell you everything

when we get home.

Working in theater

is worse than being a nun!

You think not being able to get stoned

all day is being a nun!

Yeah, I do!

Alfonso XII Street, number 30.

Come on, forget about it!

My son!

TomorrowI turn 17,

but I look older.

Boys who live alone with their mothers

have a special look...

more serious than normal,

like an intellectual or a writer.

In my case that's normal,

because I'm also a writer.

''Intensive Care Unit''

This is Lola, at Ramn y Cajal.

Yes?

We've got a possible donor.

He's in the ICU.

They've done the first EEG...

but the mother hasn't given

her consentyet.

Can I have the details?

I don't have them.

It's Manuela's son.

The Manuela that I know?

The coordinator?

Yes. He's dead.

It's awful.

Unfortunately...

the result of the EEG

is what we'd feared.

We have to make a decision

immediately.

CONSENT BY NEXT OF KIN

OPERATING ROOM:

HEAR:

It's from the hospital!

We have to go.

We have to call.

- I'll do it. You calm down.

- I am calm-- but call them.

ALVEDRO AI RPORT, CORUA

REGIONAL HOSPITAL, CORUA

THREE WEEKS LATER

We're outside now,

sweetheart.

We're out at last.

He looks great.

Who'd have believed it?

He certainly didn't.

I feel I can breathe

like before.

- Even better.

- With an 1 8-year-old's heart!

- I'll fix you some apple fritters.

- No, he has to be careful.

Last night, Mom showed me

a picture of when she was young.

Half of it was missing.

Ididn't want to tell her,

but my life is missing that same half.

I was worried.

I thought you'd never call.

I called

as soon as I got to Madrid.

I mean in Argentina.

I called you loads of times...

but I must have got

your aunt's numbe rwrong.

I wasn't in Argentina, Mamen.

I went to Corua.

Why did you go there?

I went after my son's heart.

Who told you?

How did you know?

I looked in the files...

until I found the name and address

of the transplant recipient.

Rate this script:3.5 / 2 votes