Juliet of the Spirits Page #4

Sangria.

It quenches the thirst

of those who drink it.

It quenches

our secret thirsts too.

They call it

the potion of oblivion.

...stay at least a week.

Have you already met?

I told you about Jos, remember?

I was his guest in Spain.

- When?

Last year, in Castilla.

A fabulous palace!

And his paintings!

Were they by Goya or Velazquez?

Neither. Rivera.

Beautiful.

He wanted to go to a hotel.

Where can you find this peace,

this quiet?

What matters is the fluidity

of the movements.

The balance.

A good toreador must have

a pure heart and clear thoughts,

like monks or dancers.

Jos owns one

of the biggest bull farms.

Sometimes, at night, this madman

puts on his own bullfight.

What courage!

Isn't it dangerous?

No. It's poetry.

Poetry's never dangerous.

My best friends are toreadors.

They compose music,

write verse,

and abhor blood.

Cordoba's style in the arena

is pure harmony.

May I?

Please, wait.

I have something more suitable.

How's this for a muleta?

There's the bull.

He dies in his chimera.

He is not killed by the sword

but by the magic

of an elegant illusion.

The beast falls into space

and I kill it with thrusts of illusion.

Miss one step, one measure,

like a rhyme in poetry,

and you're faced

with mortal danger.

A calculated spontaneity,

a pure sentiment, a clear mind,

an exact gesture,

and the monster

will be defeated.

I want you to see Jos's present.

I'll get it. It's magnificent.

"No one understood the perfume

of the dark magnolia of your womb.

No one knew you tormented

a hummingbird of love between your teeth."

You love Lorca's poetry, right?

Destiny plays some strange games.

I was in Madrid

and I didn't want to leave

because of a foreboding.

Now I am happy to be here.

There's nothing to life

if you take away nights like this one.

I owe you a happy moment

and hope it won't be the last.

For so little?

It can be everything.

Yes, a sudden decision,

meeting an old friend by the sea,

and feeling a lost sense of peace.

Everything becomes

clear, plausible.

Juliet, what is it? Come here.

Isn't this a great gift?

It's a magic telescope!

Last year there was

a scandal at their villa.

She organizes these parties.

The police were called in.

They wanted to deport her.

There are some fascinating

stories about them.

She's really beautiful.

Going to bed already?

I wanted to chat.

- Did you say something?

- It doesn't matter.

- Good night, darling.

- I'm going to read for a while.

I also changed

the color of the interior.

Now it's red and the seats brown.

Do you like it?

I told them:

"Boys, it's for a goddess."

Sure I didn't wake you?

What were you doing?

About me?

And what were you thinking?

Good night, little monster.

I'll wake you.

I forgot to get my wake-up call.

Lucky I remembered.

Who were you calling?

I told you. The phone company,

to wake me up.

Want some?

Let's go back to bed.

Who were you calling?

What is it? Come on.

- What now?

- Let's come back some other time, Adele.

Or you go on your own.

I am not used

to looking ridiculous.

- To have him followed, like a thief...

- But he is.

He stole your youth, your peace,

your trust. He's the worst kind of thief.

But someone spying

on what's going on

feels like a threesome.

Isn't it a threesome already?

You must have faith.

Trust them

as you would your confessor.

They take care of all the rest.

I apologize for my disguise,

one of the transformations

vital to the job.

I'm here to help my fellow man

when he's in need of information,

but are you sure

you won't regret it?

There's still time.

Stop and reconsider.

I always recommend a little trip

with your spouse,

a second honeymoon.

Think about the tender memories

in your old age.

Two white heads

on the same pillow.

Time wears out suspicion

and tomorrow you might be laughing

at your fears of today.

At our own sufferings?

Impossible.

My sister must know the truth.

You're right.

I'm at your service.

What does this gentleman do?

He gets people together,

I don't know...

I never understood exactly.

A public relations man?

That's it.

He organizes openings

for the fashion industry.

Do you have a photo?

For our psychologist.

Valli!

Sorry. I must ask

a delicate question.

What is discussed here

stays within these walls.

So, when you look at him...

Could you take off your glasses?

- My glasses?

- Yes.

Thanks. Does he blush

when you look at him?

Make up excuses?

I don't think so. Well...

Does he speak a foreign language

on the phone?

Sometimes, with his clients.

Do you use pet names

when you're intimate?

- I don't see...

- Pardon.

Valli, come in here.

I want to have a word with you.

I don't see the relevance...

Every little thing matters,

dear lady.

Even the smallest of details.

You can't ignore anything.

Valli. One of my

esteemed associates.

Could you give him

our subject's photo?

Do I really have to leave it?

Imperative.

See?

Pardon my deplorable indiscretion,

signora,

but my questions aren't over yet.

What about lipstick on his hanky?

Perhaps a suspicious scent

of perfume?

A scent of beauty cream,

hair on his coat

or... forgive me...

little scratches on his body?

No, never!

Let's hear from our psychologist.

Looking at the photograph,

I say he's about 40,

difficult personality,

cold rages, a ladies' man.

Be careful, 'cause he's capable

of rash gestures.

Hidden fear.

A great need for his mother.

And who doesn't need

his mother?

Very well, dear lady.

From now on we will be

devoted to your case.

Am I right?

- Of course.

In a week, you'll know

everything about your husband.

Our zoom lens makes ideas

like intimacy and secrecy obsolete.

We don't know

the word "secrecy."

We'll show you the husband

you've never known.

You'll share

his most secret hours.

You'll penetrate that shadowy zone

you were never allowed into.

Are you really determined to know?

Woe unto those

who shall tolerate sin,

for it makes them accomplices.

They shall burn with the sinner

in eternal fire.

Take vengeance

in the name of God!

I am the Lord of Justice.

Yes. I do want to know.

I have a full right to know.

I no longer know who he is,

what is mine, what I am to him.

I need to know

what he thinks and does.

I want to know everything!

Everything!

Have I gotten big?

You'll break the platform soon.

Do you like Nadir?

After all that trouble,

my archangel was right under my nose!

He's the doorman's son.

There might be some chocolate

in the fridge. Have some.

You haven't seen my new works.

Looking at my statues isn't enough.

You must touch them. Try.

If I touch them, I shiver.

They feel alive.

Michelangelo shouted

at his Moses:
"Speak!"

I'd like to shout

at these powerful forms: "Love me!"

I really would, you know.

My art is deeply spiritual.

You say no, eh?

Let's give back to God

his physicality.

I was afraid of God.

He crushed me, terrified me.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes