Before Night Falls Page #2

Synopsis: Episodic look at the life of Cuban poet and novelist, Reinaldo Arenas (1943-1990), from his childhood in Oriente province to his death in New York City. He joins Castro's rebels. By 1964, he is in Havana. He meets the wealthy Pepe, an early lover; a love-hate relationship lasts for years. Openly gay behavior is a way to spite the government. His writing and homosexuality get him into trouble: he spends two years in prison, writing letters for other inmates and smuggling out a novel. He befriends Lázaro Gomes Garriles, with whom he lives stateless and in poverty in Manhattan after leaving Cuba in the Mariel boat-lift. When asked why he writes, he replies cheerfully, "Revenge."
Director(s): Julian Schnabel
Production: Fine Line Features
  Nominated for 1 Oscar. Another 15 wins & 21 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.3
Metacritic:
85
Rotten Tomatoes:
73%
R
Year:
2000
133 min
$2,768,814
Website
1,047 Views


I said we don't know|who the author is.

Okay.|Do you have any other books?

Yes, I have many.

I usually read out here|so I can be alone.

I like it here.

Sorry to bother you.|I'll leave.

It's okay.|I'm going home anyway.

You live around here?

Not far.

You want to come over|and hear some music?

What?

I have some|French records.

Maybe you like...

Edith Piaf,|and Jacques Brel.

Pero estpido idiota!

Are you out of your mind?

Take the book with you.

Ojal se te caiga|la pinga, maricn!

Estpido!|Coo.

And so, ladies and gentlemen,

we have arrived at this|auspicious moment.

We are happy to announce|that the first prize goes to,

"Vivir en Candonga"|by Ezequiel Vieta.

And the honorable mention|goes to Reinaldo Arenas

for "Celestino Antes de Alba. "

Thank you.|Gracias.

Thank you for coming|ladies and gentlemen,

and another round of applause|for our contestants.

- Congratulations.|- Thank you.

You're invited to|Lezama Lima's house.

Hello.

He left after his brother|made the film "P.M."

You've heard about it.

The brother had to leave, too.

Simple film.

Just a group of people|dancing and getting drunk.

It made no judgments.

It made no judgments.

People that make art are|dangerous to any dictatorship.

They create beauty.

And beauty is the enemy.

Artists are escapists.

Artists are counter-|revolutionary,

and so you are a counter-|revolutionary, Reinaldo Arenas,

and you know why?

Because there's a man|that cannot govern

the terrain called beauty,|so he wants to eliminate it.

So, here we are, 400 years|of Cuban culture

about to become extinct|and everybody applauds.

And what happened to your lip?

I found somebody who doesn't|like French music, that's all.

Be careful.|Be careful.

No, no, no.|Keep it-

He would love for you|to have it.

There are 150 books that|contain everything

that literature has to offer.

You read them and you don't have|to read anything else.

So which book would|be the first?

"The Bible. "|You have to read the Bible.

Oh, croquettes.|Ooh, Mara Luisa.

These croquettes don't stick|to the roof of your mouth.

They are delicious.

What kind are they?

I n this country, you don't|ask that question.

We're all being placed|on an international diet.

Let's go back|to the Bible,

it's far|more interesting.

Now, I don't mean|to convert you.

Just read it like a novel.

I tell you what, I'm going|to give you five books-

Correction, I'm going to lend|you five books.

You return them,|then I'll give you five more.

"Moby Dick," Melville,

Robert Lewis Stevenson's|"Treasure Island,"

Proust's,|"Remembrance of Things Past"

Kafka's "Metamorphosis,"

Flaubert's,|"Sentimental Education. "

Mara Luisa,|coffee please.

One, two, three-

four, five.

Reinaldo, I don't mean|to be presumptuous,

but we've read your book.

We both think|it's far superior

to the one|that won first prize.

They robbed you|of the first prize.

But, to be frank,

there's always room|for improvement.

If you'll allow,

Virgilio would like|to help you clean it up.

Right now it's good,

but it's too good|not to be great.

Let's fix it.

Second prize|gets published too.

That's the real prize.

We both think that|you were born to write.

You can't be too careful.

This is the only possession|that you really need.

...de la vida.

Las lagartijas son muy grandes|en este baado.

Si t las vieras!|Las lagartijas...

tienen aqu distintas formas...

Where's Pepe?

He's getting supplies.

I don't have to work today.

Let's pick up|Nicolas and Juan.

Okay.

Look, look, Toms.|"Celestino Antes de Alba. "

Now, you are really a writer.

- You like that cover?|- I like it, it's beautiful.

I thank Virgilio|for this book.

He gave me a lesson|in literature and editing.

...my brothers Juan|and Nicholas are writers too.

Oh, come on.

Pepe, we've got the Bronte|sisters in the back-seat.

Look at them.

Lezama is a Catholic;|Virgilio is an atheist.

So what do they|have in common

besides being faggots?

Lezama doesn't type,|he writes everything by hand.

Something you|wouldn't understand

It's called|intellectual honesty.

I don't understand!

Well, if you took the time|to actually read their books,

maybe you'd have something|intelligent to say about it.

Oye,|look at this.

Give him the cigarettes.

Oye, guapo!

Maricones!

Mariquita! Mariquita!

Hazle comer|el mojn de caballo!

Coo! Qu es eso?

Qu pasa ahora?

Oye, welcome to our picnic,|compaero.

Tranquilo,|no te muevas de all.

- What do you want?|- Shut up.

What do I want?

I want Carlos first|to frisk this guy.

Why him?

See if he's got a weapon.

He's not even dressed.

What's your name?

My name?

Franz Kafka.

You're funny.

You think I'm ignorant?

Let's see how|ignorant you are.

Ever heard of a summer camp|called La Isla de la Juventud?

No, then maybe|you can tell me...

when was the last time|you took it up your ass?

The last time?

Oh, I don't remember.

You don't remember?

But, I remember|the last time you did.

When was that?

Maybe the last time|you bent over

to tie your boots?

Est bien,|lo ves, no?

Est bien, est bien.

Do you have a cigarette?

Yes, I have a cigarette.

There was also a sexual|revolution going on

that came along with excitement|of the official revolution-

but the drums of militarism|were still trying to beat down

the rhythm of poetry and life.

When I wasn't at my job|at the library,

or guard duty,|or attending rallies,

there were three|wonderful things

that I enjoyed|in the 60's:

my typewriter, at which I sat|like a dedicated performer

sitting at his piano;

the youth of those days,

when everyone was ready|to break free;

and lastly, the full discovery|of the sea.

Did you ever notice there|are four categories of gays?

Really?

Really.

Which are they?

Well, the first one|is the dog collar gay-

He's loud,

shows off that|he's gay,

there's no limit|to his sexual voracity,

therefore he's constantly|being arrested.

The system has created|a permanent collar

around his neck,

so they can|hook him up

and take him to|a rehabilitation camp

like a Valparaso.

Two is the common gay.

He's made his commitments|with other gays,

has a job, film clubs,

likes to sip tea|with his friends,

writes a poem|now and then,

only has relations|with other gays,

never takes a risk,

and never gets|to know a real man.

The third one,

the closet gay,|okay,

nobody knows|he is gay.

He's married,|has children,

hides on his way|to the bathroom,

still wearing the ring|that his wife gave him.

They're hard to spot,|but I've got one here.

Most of the time they're|the ones who censor other gays.

And fourth, the royal gay,

a unique product|of our country,

a communist country.

Because of his closeness|to our Maximum Leader

or special work with|the State Security,

he can afford|to be openly gay,

travel freely in this|country and abroad,

cover himself|with jewels, clothes...

Coo, he even has|a private chauffeur.

Hey, hey.|Stop!

Reinaldo!

Hey, Reinaldo!

Come on.|We'll give you a ride.

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