Boca Page #4

Search him.

Let's go, hurry.

Get this car out of here.

Here you go, my little doll.

To Silvia, forever our Miss Petrpolis!

Give me a cigarette.

What time is it?

Turn the radio on, will you?

That music sucks. Turn it off.

- Who's that?

- Relax, Hiroito,

she's a good friend of mine.

She's going to help us, trust me.

Help us?

Help us how, exactly?

Show him, Clarinha.

Hi, how are you?

Check this out.

I need to get away for some time, too.

If I go with you, it's ours.

Listen up, girl.

Are you a minor, by any chance?

No, I'm not. Here.

It looks like I have to refer you

to a better forger.

How old are you?

Age is a matter of perspective.

Can we have a drink now,

or are you going to tell the judge?

Let's get out of here, quick.

And you, get ready.

That's a treasure.

The two months that these two kids and I

spent together on the run

was the craziest time of my life.

The absurd became routine.

It was perhaps the beginning of the end

of my rule in Boca do Lix o.

Hiroito?

Hiroito, open up.

Come on, open up.

Hiroito, Hiroito, open up.

Hiroito, Hiroito, open up.

Let's go, kid. Let him be.

I was outside calling you for ages.

Gosh, you are really pale!

You should take a break from that sh*t.

Where is Robertinho?

- Our vacation is over.

- Yeah.

Now that it has gotten better.

You're not a bad driver, are you?

Wait, we're not going to have a last drink?

I know, I know. You don't have to say that.

Let me tell you something.

I will sit here quiet, hiding,

not doing anything,

and you promise me

they'll go easy on my arrest warrant.

All right.

I'll call you tomorrow.

Who is it?

It's me.

I heard that you were looking for me.

What's that?

Now you can leave.

What?

Isn't that what you wanted?

Get ready while I call a cab for you.

When will they let you go?

I'm going to let myself go today.

You're crazy.

You have to wait more. You still look sick.

Right, Clarinha?

What?

What happened?

What's that face?

Tell me, damn it!

I'm going to tell you the truth, Hiroito.

While you were on the run,

Osmar was stealing money

from that new whorehouse of yours.

We know that for sure.

Lowlife son of a b*tch!

I was an idiot.

- Give me a cigarette.

- No way.

Give me that sh*t!

Son of a b*tch.

Son of a b*tch!

What is it?

Get out!

Is it better to be loved than feared,

or vice versa?

We wish to be both,

but how difficult it is

to muster the qualities to achieve that.

It's much safer to be feared than loved,

should you have to fail at one of them.

It's Osmar.

Let's go upstairs.

What a screw-up, Hiroito.

Why did you do that?

I already know.

You think you're above

everything and everyone.

Above the law!

And you're gonna get me like this,

behind my back?

What are you going to do now?

Go on the run again?

It would be the same as suicide.

What do you want from me?

Nothing.

I pity you.

But you are still going to continue

feeding on this contaminated blood.

It was this same blood

that fed you for so many years.

It was this carcass

that paid for your grand private party.

You parasite.

How disgusting.

How arrogant you are.

I don't give a damn what you think of me.

This time not even a miracle

will get you out of jail.

Enough with this bullshit.

What are you waiting for

to handcuff the guy?

It's not going to end like this.

It was cold,

and not the kind of cold

from which flesh can give us relief.

It cut like the cold, sharp blades

of knives in a butcher shop.

But you didn't come to see my downfall.

And I went out as if rejecting everything,

an old casket carrying remains,

taking to the tomb only the carcass,

the unique parchment of the skin,

and the fateful rattle of the bones.

Hiroito spent 7 years in jail

and was released on parole in 1970.

He wrote the book this film is based on.

He died in So Paulo in 1992.

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