Frida Page #3

Yes.

Hmm.

He's also a Communist.

A Communist

who is generous enough

to pay off our mortgage.

It's like the marriage

of an elephant and a dove.

Your toe.

It's been a long time.

I don't want to talk.

I told you

I wanted you to come.

- I don't want to talk.

- Please!

Please.

Cris... Cristina!

Stay here!

I give them... six months.

Six?

I give them two.

I don't believe in marriage.

No, I really don't.

Let me be clear about that.

I think at worst

it's a hostile political act,

a way for small-minded men

to keep women in the house

and out of the way,

wrapped up in the guise

of tradition

and conservative

religious nonsense.

At best,

it's a happy delusion...

these two people

who truly love each other

and have no idea

how truly miserable they're

about to make each other.

But...

But...

when two people know that,

and they decide

with eyes wide open

to face each other

and get married anyway,

then I don't think

it's conservative or delusional.

I think it's radical

and courageous

and very romantic.

To Diego and Frida.

Diego and Frida.

Aah!

You're crazy!

You know that?

You're crazy.

You son of a b*tch!

Who cares?

Ah!

You like these legs?

Oh, Lupe. Lupe, no.

You like those legs, Diego?

You give up these beauties...

for these matchsticks?

This peg leg?

Look! Look!

Viva la revolucion.

Ay!

My mother was wrong

about you, you know?

She said you were an elephant.

But you're not.

Elephants are strong

and courageous,

and they defend their mates.

You are a toad.

You even look like a toad.

And you look like a dog.

Dove! Dove!

Did I say "dog"?

No, I meant "dove."

You are my little paloma.

What will

people say about such a pair?

They'll have never seen

a better match.

Thank you.

For what?

For making a fat, old,

crazy Communist a happy man.

Ohh.

Sit. Eat.

Mi amor!

Mmm!

Good, huh?

Mmm!

What a wonderful morning!

Lupe's special recipe.

Well, you've mastered it.

I can't cook to save my life.

She brought it down for us

while you were sleeping.

- Brought it down?

- Mm-hmm.

She's in the apartment upstairs

with my kids.

I let her have it

till she finds a place in town.

I'm not just passing through,

you know?!

I'm here to stay!

Is that what you came

to tell me?

I'm here to stay.

So stay out of

my damn kitchen.

You like my mole?

So-so.

Well, he lives for it.

So if you're here to stay,

you better learn how to make it.

I was so angry.

He didn't come home

for three days.

Pass me the cilantro.

So, I took two

of his damn Aztec idols...

that he adores, you know...

And I smashed

the pieces of clay

in the boiling pot

of beef stock

and told him

it was sopa Azteca.

Liar!

Did he eat it?

He did.

Did he like it?

He loved it.

Of course,

until he found out.

Then he got sick.

He got furious. Oof!

It didn't make me feel

any better.

And it definitely didn't

stop him from cheating.

But what the hell?

Mama.

Brute!

Get out!

Come on!

Ven aqui.

Oh...

Marie.

- Come on. Let's go.

- S, seora.

Quit it.

Eh?

Time for your nap.

The other night...

I was very drunk.

I know.

It's all right.

Ay, nia, Diego has never

belonged to anybody.

He belongs only to himself.

And that, of course, is what

makes him so desirable.

He's the best of friends

and the worst of husbands.

Diego will never be

anyone's husband.

Not really.

We'll see.

You'll know it's over

when he gets the next commission

out of town.

He'll say he'll send for you,

then he never does.

Seora Rivera?

- Yes?

- Yes?

What do you think?

The tits lack...

gravity.

Oh, come on.

Eat your posole

while it's still hot.

It's not like you to be late

for lunch, Diego.

Uh, I was at the ministry

explaining why a history

of the Mexican people

is an appropriate subject

for the Mexican National Palace.

Again?

When I work,

they scream about my politics.

When I don't work,

they scream about the delays.

It's a farce.

Ugh.

Diego, son of a b*tch!

That model, huh?

Yes.

It was just a f***,

that's all.

I've given more affection

in a handshake.

Well, that makes me feel

so much better.

Was she good, at least?

Not very.

Too bad.

She had such a great ass.

When you get home,

take a good bath.

We're going out tonight.

And now, yes, wicked witch

You already sucked my son

You already sucked my son

And now, yes, wicked witch

And now you're going

to suck him

Your husband's navel

Your husband's navel

And now you're going

to suck him

The witch grabs me,

she takes me to headquarters

She turns me into

a flowerpot, and she feeds me

The witch grabs me,

she takes me to headquarters

She sits me on her legs,

and she gives me kisses

Tell me, tell me,

tell me, you

How many creatures

have you sucked?

None, none, none,

can't you see?

I intend to suck you

More tequila!

Rivera!

Hey!

Yeah, you.

You know what I think of you

and your stinking murals?

Why don't you get the f***

out of here, huh?

This is a bar for workers,

not for government whores.

Aah!

Aah! Ah ha ha!

Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay!

I tell you, that kid

was one of Siqueiros' boys.

Siqueiros is a hero

to these fucks,

but what's he actually done?

Nothing!

I put socialism

on the government walls.

I've got the fascists

calling me

the most dangerous subversive

in the country,

and I'm the traitor

to the party?

Soon we'll have no one left

to drink with.

It's not funny.

I'm not kidding.

Tina says they'll kick you

out of the party

for the Palace mural.

They won't have to.

I quit.

So you'll quit

and keep on working.

That's all that matters

to you anyway.

I've been offered a show

in New York.

A solo exhibition

at the new Modern Museum.

It would be

a wonderful entree.

I could get commissions

out of it.

I thought you'd be excited.

They don't care that

you're a Communist pig?

They can't afford to.

All the greatest painters

are Communist pigs.

That's wonderful, Diego.

When do you leave?

As soon as you decide

to come with me.

Oh, my little monster!

We'll take Gringolandia

by storm.

Dear Cristi,

the invasion

of Gringolandia has begun.

They are never gonna know

what hit them.

New York has Diego on fire.

What's your impression

of New York, Mr. Rivera?

Magnificent.

There is no reason

why any artist born

in our two continents should go

to Europe for inspiration.

It is all here...

the might, the power,

the energy.

The sadness.

The glory and youthfulness

of our American lands.

I see the majesty

that Diego sees.

But all that American comfort

is a myth.

While the rich drink

their coctelitos,

thousands are starving.

Diego is working

almost constantly

to prepare for his show,

so I have to find ways

to entertain myself.

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Breaking all records,

over 50,000 people

have lined up

outside New York's

new Museum of Modern Art

to see the paintings

of Mexico's greatest artist...

Diego Rivera...

...the most-talked-about man

this side of the Rio Grande.

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