Wonderwoman 1984 Page #5

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Would you prefer the KGB?

KGB. (clicks tongue)

You don't make joke about

what you don't understand.

(clicks tongue)

Yeah, well, can I just come in?

Can I...

-What you done? You look like

dead person. -Oh, yeah.

Thanks.

Great parenting. Great.

-Why don't you do it inside?

-Why don't you ring me?

-(Kate groans)

-You have phone.

Uh, it-it's broken.

(Petra exclaims

in Serbo-Croatian)

Why you not ring me

when I worry about you?!

Not to hear nothing.

No call, no Twitter,

no Snap... chat shot.

I think she's dead,

she's had lapse,

she's never coming home,

like her father

who is never here.

My life is hell, Katarina.

It's "Kate." It's "Kate."

"Kate" is not a name.

"Katarina" is name.

Katarina.

Cat is animal.

Cat, dog.

What I call Marta? Dog.

I call you cat.

-Meow.

-(clears throat)

Yeah, no, great,

but can I get some sleep?

One of us should sleep.

I don't sleep.

-Yeah.

-This is very...

-This is naughty.

-Yeah.

Mum!

Can I please just go to sleep?

Yes, you sleep.

We talk morning.

-You are clean, hmm?

-This... Yeah, yeah, um...

-Pillow. Pillow.

-Okay. Um, yeah, it's a pillow.

-Head. Sleep.

-Yeah, I am gonna...

I'm good. (mutters)

-Hmm.

-KATE:
Yeah, okay.

(sighs) Okay.

-Good night.

-Naughty.

(yawns)

Oh, God.

Mm.

♪ Spavaj ♪

♪ Dete, spavaj ♪

♪ Poljubac ♪

♪ Na kraju ♪

♪ Detko moze ♪

-♪ Snivat... ♪

-(high-pitched groan)

DR. ADDIS:

So, uh, tell me about the diet.

-Keeping up with the fruit

and veg? -Yeah, fine.

She's eating rubbish

when she is outside.

When she's at home, she's

eating my food, and it's good.

I'm sure it is.

Uh, what about sleep?

-Yeah, it's all right.

-She never sleeps.

-Exercise?

-Religiously. -Not at all.

-Alcohol?

-Every once in a while.

Oh, she's drinking

like the pirate.

-You say you're okay.

-KATE:
Yep.

And your mother says

the opposite. Who do I believe?

-Me, obviously.

-Me, the mother, of course.

-All right, all right, listen.

-(Petra scoffs)

There's nothing

conclusive here,

but you, Kate, you've got to

take care of your heart.

You need to rest more,

-eat better, drink less...

-Da. Da. Da.

-and stop being so angry.

-Da. -(Kate groans)

And you, Mrs. Andrich...

you need to worry less.

I not sleeping.

Can you please give me

something for sleeping?

Mrs. Andrich, you've been given

everything there is

for sleep, anxiety,

panic attacks, the lot.

You have the best that

modern medicine has to offer.

-Then what can I do?

-Join a club.

Hmm? Talk to other people.

Enjoy time with your friends.

-All my friends were murdered.

-Okay, fine.

Thank you, Doctor. Thank you

so much for your time.

-But it's-it's true.

-Let's go, Mum. Come on.

-They took them.

-Mum, come on. Come on. I know.

-Thank you. Um... -Come on,

Mama, out we get. Sorry.

-Sorry. Let's go. -Kate, we'll

see you in a... in a month.

-(speaking Serbo-Croatian)

-See you next year.

-There you go. All right.

-I am coming. I come.

-Get-get out the-- Right.

-I'm coming.

-Thank you. -(door closes)

-(sighs) Bloody hell.

(bell jingles)

Can I help?

No.

I'm having a self-pity party.

Ooh.

Am I invited?

Well, only if you promise

to judge me.

Oh, you definitely don't need

any help doing that.

Or maybe you do.

I'm very good at tidying up.

(clears throat)

Yes.

-These expensive?

-(rattling)

(Kate stammers)

Idiot. Follow me.

Ah.

(singsongy):

Tra-la.

Tra-la.

All right, Mr. Muscle, you can

get to refreshing that tree.

-This one?

-Yeah.

Going home

always makes me crazy.

How was it?

Hell. Mum sung me to sleep.

You're the only person

who can make being sung to

sleep sound like waterboarding.

Well, it's not that dissimilar.

(laughing):

These, um, folk songs

make you want

to string yourself up.

Is that where you get

your singing from?

Yeah, she was a singer

back in, um, the homeland.

Where was that?

Former Yugoslavia.

We had to escape.

-'Cause of the war?

-Exactly.

Mm. Must have been hard.

Yeah. Dad was a lawyer.

Um, and now he stays away

from home as much as he can

because he'd rather be dead.

(chuckles)

Except he's a minicab driver,

which is sort of

the same thing.

Can he not practice here?

No, he couldn't afford

to retrain,

so he's out all the time.

Also to avoid my mother,

who's given to depression

in much the same way as, um...

What?

You're looking at me like

some sort of science experiment

that's gone wrong.

Sorry.

-No, I'm interested.

-Huh.

I mean, your mother--

when was the last time

you saw her

not being depressed?

(chuckles)

Ooh, I think

when I got really ill.

And she was happy about that?

No, but she was happy

about the attention.

I mean,

I got a lot of attention,

but I was unconscious.

She got more.

Just the doctors,

the nurses, the hospital staff.

Drama. God, she loved it.

She sort of flowered

under it like a...

like a late blossoming

or something.

Anyway, when I got better,

it all went away,

and she's just never

been the same since.

Well, maybe she enjoyed

being needed again.

Oh, trust you to come up

with something understanding.

-That is truly horrific.

-(Kate chuckles)

I mean, who buys this stuff?

Santa. She's Chinese,

so she's, you know,

got access to some

really freaky outlets.

She just loves Christmas

more than anything else.

-More than taste or sanity.

-Yes, exactly.

And that isn't even

the nastiest thing we sell.

Inconceivable.

Hang on.

-♪ Dun, dun, dun! ♪

-Oh!

-Check it out.

-What is it?

-Is that donkey actually

smiling at me? -Yeah. Yeah.

And that baby

has a full set of teeth.

-Oof. -I sold four of these

last week. I'm that good.

(techno version

of "Last Christmas" playing)

Oh, it's a...

oh, it's a techno manger.

-Yeah.

-Oh, yeah, yeah. Cool.

-It's a disco nativity scene.

-(laughing)

Is that really

a good nutritional choice?

Oh, God, don't you start.

Where are you?

Look up.

Yeah.

Yeah, after you...

what you've been through,

I mean, shouldn't you be eating

quinoa or kale or something?

Yeah, but this

admittedly rank burger

is all part of my grand plan

to become a famous singer

and die like Kurt Cobain,

Amy Winehouse and all the rest

at the age of 27.

-How old are you?

Oh. Good to have dreams.

Not really. I'm 26.

Oh, thank God.

You still have time.

(chuckles)

-Come on. Get rid of that.

-Where...? Wait.

Let's go.

I've got a surprise for you.

-Ugh, really? (laughs)

-Mm, yummy!

There's something wrong

with me, you know.

-I'm too trusting.

-(Tom scoffs)

Down a dark alley again

with a complete stranger.

I don't even...

I mean, seriously,

-where are you... (chuckles)

-Pop yourself over here.

-All right, then.

-Need a hand?

No.

-(grunting):
Oh, Christ.

-Oh.

-(groans) Oh, my God.

-Oh! That looked painful.

-Yeah. I'm fine. I'm fine!

-Ah, you... you're fine.

That was like poetry in motion.

-Piss off.

-Come on.

Sure. Never wanted kids anyway.

(grunts)

(Kate groaning)

Okay.

Now I am intrigued.

-How are you gonna dispose

of my body? -Shh...

-Shh!

-I... am shh-ing.

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