Frida Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Frida script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the movie starring Salma Hayek as Frida Kahlo.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Frida. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

Frida Script


   

                   

  And she is the flame  



 

                   

  That rises up  



 

                   

  And she is a bird in flight  



 

                   

  In the night

that catches fire  



 

                   

  Hell is this heaven  



 

                   

Up! Up, up, up up!



 

                   

Careful, guys.



 

                   

This corpse is still breathing.



 

                   

Try to get me there

in one piece.



  

                   

Hello, Professor.



  

                   

Hello, Frida.



  

                   

Diego Rivera is back

in the auditorium!



  

                   

- Who cares?

- With a naked woman.



  

                   

Oh, yeah. Yeah.



  

                   

Shh.



  

                   

Why is this whore still here?



  

                   

Huh?



  

                   

Tell me.



  

                   

Tell me, mi amor.



  

                   

Are you planning to have her

after lunch,



  

                   

or have you fucked her

already?



  

                   

Lupe, please don't start.



  

                   

Y-You think I don't know

what's going on.



  

                   

You must think I'm an idiot.



  

                   

- I can't work like this.

- Yes, you can.



  

                   

Your food and your slut.



  

                   

That's all you need to paint

your pinche murals!



  

                   

Hey! Get out!



  

                   

And don't come home!



  

                   

Don't come home and give me

one of your speeches



  

                   

about the artist and the people

and your fucking revolution!



  

                   

You only care about yourself,

you piece of shit!



  

                   

So much for lunch.



  

                   

Although...



  

                   

I could eat you, perhaps.



  

                   

I-I've eaten female flesh

before. Yeah.



  

                   

Yes.



  

                   

Wrapped up in... tortillas.



  

                   

Tastes like...



  

                   

the tenderest young pig.



  

                   

Watch out, Diego!

Lupe's coming back!



  

                   

Fucking punks!



  

                   

Come on,

you little anarchists!



  

                   

Let's go! Frida!



  

                   

Just keeping you honest,

panzon.



  

                   

Panzon.



  

                   

Do I look fat to you?



  

                   

Shh!



  

                   

- Shh!



  

                   

Shh, shh, shh, shh!



  

                   

Oh, yeah.



  

                   

- Here you are.

- Gracias.



  

                   

Frida, we found

the most beautiful fabric



  

                   

for my wedding dress today.



  

                   

Fantastic.



  

                   

It cost a fortune.



  

                   

- Mama?

- Yes?



  

                   

Are these ripe?



  

                   

They should be.

Let me see.



  

                   

Yes, they're fine.

Just need a day or two.



  

                   

Maybe you'll get married,

too, one day.



  

                   

One can only hope.



  

                   

Lunch is almost ready.



  

                   

Go get the artist.



  

                   

I love this one.

It's beautiful.



  

                   

I like it, too.



  

                   

They're busy with the wedding.



  

                   

Cristina is so excited

about her dress.



  

                   

Good.



  

                   

Everyone should be excited

when they get married.



  

                   

I suppose.

If that's what you want.



  

                   

And, uh... what do you want?



  

                   

I don't know.



  

                   

I just don't think

that marriage is for everyone.



  

                   

Well, you need

a good reason to do it,



  

                   

just like with anything else.



  

                   

What do you think matters most

for a good marriage?



  

                   

A short memory.



  

                   

Why did you get married,

Papa?



  

                   

I can't remember.



  

                   

So I could have you.



  

                   

And concentrate, everybody.



  

                   

Wait. Where is Frida?



  

                   

Adriana, go tell your sister

to hurry up.



  

                   

I always wanted a son.



  

                   

And, Matilde, everyone,

eyes to the camera,



  

                   

and...



  

                   

Come on.

We'll miss our bus.



  

                   

- Frida!

- Excuse me.



  

                   

How much is the calaca?



  

                   

Frida, come on!



  

                   

- The bus!

- We'll take the next one.



  

                   

No, no, no!

Come, come, come!



  

                   

W-Watch out. Hey! Hey.



  

                   

Anyway, I just don't think

he's completely apolitical.



  

                   

That's all.



  

                   

But that's because you read it

after you read Marx.



  

                   

You... you always read things

in the wrong order!



  

                   

That's ridiculous.



   

                   

Why should it matter

what order you read it in?



   

                   

Because if you have

already read Marx,



   

                   

then of course Hegel is

going to seem political.



   

                   

But the truth is the idea

of history as a dialectic.



   

                   

It just predicts Marx...



   

                   

Is that gold? Real gold?



   

                   

For the ceiling

of the opera house.



   

                   

Move!



   

                   

Move it, idiot!



   

                   

Your brake!



   

                   

The spinal column was broken,



   

                   

as were the collarbone

and two ribs.



   

                   

The pelvis is broken

in three places.



   

                   

The metal rod entered

the right side of the body



   

                   

and came out the vagina.



   

                   

The right leg has

   fractures,



   

                   

And the foot was crushed.



   

                   

Will she ever walk again?



   

                   

Let's make sure

she lives first.



   

                   

Is Alex alive?



   

                   

- Frida.

- Is he all right?



   

                   

He was hurt, but not terribly.



   

                   

He was here yesterday

when you were not awake.



   

                   

And Mama?



   

                   

It was too much for them,

Fridocha. They are at home.



   

                   

How long have I been here?



   

                   

Three weeks.



   

                   

We're almost there.



   

                   

Gently, now.



   

                   

There is nothing left to spend.



   

                   

I will sell some of

my equipment.



   

                   

For another operation

that probably won't work.



   

                   

- No. No. Listen.



   

                   

Maybe this time it will work.



   

                   

And then how will you

make money?



   

                   

I'll... paint portraits again.



   

                   

Admit it, Guillermo.



   

                   

She'll never walk again.



   

                   

Go on in, Alex.

She's waiting for you.



   

                   

Hello, ugly.



   

                   

They're beautiful.



   

                   

How do you feel?



   

                   

Like I've been hit by a bus.



   

                   

Come on, silly.

Come, come. Come sit with me.



   

                   

Look.



   

                   

It's my only good angle

at the moment.



   

                   

No, it's not.



   

                   

I like you this way.



   

                   

You're easier to keep up with.



   

                   

Spengler...

because you love him.



   

                   

Schopenhauer

because it's good for you.



   

                   

Oh, Alex.



   

                   

You know I adore you.



   

                   

I've missed you so much.



   

                   

I told the doctor the handrail

had taken my virginity.



   

                   

And I'm sure he believed you.



   

                   

You know...



   

                   

when I get out of this cast,



   

                   

I'm going to show you

a couple of things



   

                   

I still remember from before.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

My aunt and my uncle are

leaving for Europe, and...



   

                   

they've invited me

to come along.



   

                   

But that's wonderful.



   

                   

When would you leave?



   

                   

Soon.



   

                   

Next week.



   

                   

How long will you be gone?



   

                   

They're going for two months,



   

                   

and... afterwards I might

stay on at the Sorbonne.



   

                   

I will be staying on.



   

                   

Did I tell you

that I'm going to walk again?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

Do you believe it?



   

                   

Of course I do.



   

                   

You'd better.



   

                   

Because

you're going to miss it.



   

                   

N-No.



   

                   

Frida...



   

                   

I want you to leave

before I finish this butterfly.



   

                   

How are you feeling?



   

                   

How am I feeling?



   

                   

I can't even remember what

it felt like before the pain.



   

                   

Isn't that horrible?



   

                   

Dr. Farril is coming

on Monday.



   

                   

He is bringing

a back specialist,



   

                   

Dr. Cervantes.



   

                   

I feel like some rich girl

with a new suitor every week.



   

                   

But all my suitors

have turned into doctors.



   

                   

And I'm not a rich girl,

Papa.



   

                   

How come you never ask me

about my plans anymore?



   

                   

Hmm?



   

                   

You used to always say,



   

                   

"Tell me your plans, Frida."



   

                   

What are your plans... Frida?



   

                   

Right now I'm a burden.



   

                   

But I hope to be a

self-sufficient cripple one day.



   

                   

After that, I don't know.



   

                   

You are not a burden...



   

                   

my love.



   

                   

See? Here.



   

                   

We have something for you.



   

                   

Matilde, come.



   

                   

We noticed that there was

no more room left on your cast,



   

                   

- Oh.

- So...



   

                   

Mm-hmm.



   

                   

Now you look like

a gringa movie star.



   

                   

Let me see.



   

                   

It's too much money.



   

                   

Mama, Papa...



   

                   

I have a surprise.



   

                   

Careful, now.



   

                   

Don't worry. Don't worry.

It's all right.



   

                   

Aah!



   

                   

Do you want a rich tamale?



   

                   

Delicious...



   

                   

I need the ochre.



   

                   

- Is it ready?

- Almost.



   

                   

No. Now.

I need it now.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

Seņor Rivera?



   

                   

Diego!



   

                   

Who are you?

What do you want?



   

                   

I have something important

to discuss with you.



   

                   

I'm working.



   

                   

I'll wait.



   

                   

I don't have time to chat

with schoolgirls.



   

                   

I'm not a schoolgirl, panzon.



   

                   

Okay. Come on up here.



   

                   

No. You come down.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Look, I didn't come here

for fun or to flirt.



   

                   

I've done some paintings



   

                   

which I want you

to look over professionally,



   

                   

and I need an absolutely

straightforward opinion



   

                   

of my work.



   

                   

You were that girl

in the auditorium.



   

                   

Yes, I was, but that has

nothing to do with now.



   

                   

I just want

your serious opinion.



   

                   

What... what do you care

about my opinion?



   

                   

If you're a real painter,

you'll paint



   

                   

because you can't live

without painting.



   

                   

You'll paint

till you die, okay?



   

                   

I have to work

to earn a living,



   

                   

so I don't have time

to fool around just for vanity.



   

                   

If I'm not good enough,



   

                   

I have to do something else

to help my parents.



   

                   

Leave the best one here.



   

                   

Go home and paint another one.



   

                   

If this one's any good,



   

                   

I'll come and look at that one

on my day off.



   

                   

Orozco is a true artist.



   

                   

He's tremendous.



   

                   

And Siqueiros could be great



   

                   

if he'd pull his head out

of his own ass and look around.



   

                   

Comrade Rivera.



   

                   

What a nice surprise.



   

                   

What if I told you



   

                   

that easel painting like yours

is finished,



   

                   

that it's headed

for the trash



   

                   

like other elitist,

bourgeois pastimes?



   

                   

I'd say cut the propaganda.



   

                   

This is very good work.



   

                   

You have real talent.



   

                   

Oh, come on.



   

                   

I'm not looking

for your compliments.



   

                   

I want a serious critique.



   

                   

But I'm being sincere.



   

                   

These are

very original paintings...



   

                   

none of the usual tricks.



   

                   

But that's...

that's not specific.



   

                   

You have to trust

a true compliment



   

                   

as much as a critique.



   

                   

Yeah, well, some people

have told me not to trust



   

                   

what you say.



   

                   

They say if a girl asks

your opinion,



   

                   

and she's not

a complete fright,



   

                   

you'll gush all over her.



   

                   

I need you to tell me

one thing honestly...



   

                   

do you actually believe

that I should continue to paint?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

You'll like Tina.



   

                   

She's a brilliant

photographer,



   

                   

one of the few

with real taste.



   

                   

Do you know Alvarez Bravo?



   

                   

I know his work.

It's good.



   

                   

I'll introduce you to him.

He'll want to photograph you.



   

                   

Without clothes, of course.



   

                   

Of course.



   

                   

That's the thing

about these radicals.



   

                   

They're a little dangerous,



   

                   

but they definitely throw

the best parties.



   

                   

Ah, at last!



   

                   

The monster!



   

                   

Tina!



   

                   

This is Frida Kahlo.



   

                   

She's a wonderful painter.



   

                   

She wants to be

a wonderful painter.



   

                   

Oh, don't be shy.



   

                   

Nobody really thinks their own

stuff is good except Diego.



   

                   

He's the only one who's sure.



   

                   

Go find Siqueiros.



   

                   

He's been bad-mouthing you

again.



   

                   

You come with me.



   

                   

Great party.



   

                   

Everybody, I have someone

for you to meet.



   

                   

This is Frida Kahlo.



   

                   

She came with Diego.



   

                   

Another pretty girl...



   

                   

She's quite a talent, no?



   

                   

Julio Mella, the Cuban.



   

                   

Tina took the last photo

of him.



   

                   

She was with him on the street

when they gunned him down.



   

                   

Incredible.



   

                   

They're like clay

in his hands.



   

                   

It must be that body.



   

                   

No.



   

                   

It's the way he looks

at you...



   

                   

and finds beauty

in all your imperfections.



   

                   

It's irresistible.



   

                   

You'd never think it

to look at him,



   

                   

but he's had

half the women here.



   

                   

I'm sorry.

Did you come with him?



   

                   

Oh, n...

we're just friends.



   

                   

I'm Frida Kahlo.



   

                   

I'm a painter.



   

                   

A painter. No wonder.

Mm-hmm.



   

                   

I'm Lupe Marķ n.



   

                   

I'm his wife.



   

                   

Ah...



   

                   

I was his wife.



   

                   

Good luck to you.



   

                   

Bad-mouth him

all you want, Diego.



   

                   

But while we have been talking

about socialism



   

                   

over drinks at parties

for    years,



   

                   

Stalin is making it work.



   

                   

He's achieving it.



   

                   

Achieving what?



   

                   

His only big idea so far



   

                   

is to throw out all

the real thinkers in the land.



   

                   

But he...

he just threw you out.



   

                   

No. Not just me.



   

                   

No, not just you.



   

                   

Mr. Trotsky... a man

who plays the martyr



   

                   

when, in truth, he was rejected

by his own country.



   

                   

- Good riddance.

- No.



   

                   

He had to run for his life.

Stalin would have had him shot.



   

                   

That's his version

of socialism...



   

                   

kill anyone

who disagrees with you.



   

                   

Well, some people have to get

shot in a revolution, you know.



   

                   

Well, I prefer evolution.



   

                   

Educate the poor.

Mobilize the workers.



   

                   

Rise like a slow tide.



   

                   

But you...

you'll have your revolution



   

                   

and kill half the poor

to save them.



   

                   

Diego, this from a Communist

who's getting rich



   

                   

painting for the government

and wealthy patrons?



   

                   

I can't help it

if the rich have good taste.



   

                   

The rich don't have

good taste.



   

                   

They pay someone

to have good taste for them.



   

                   

And they don't hire you

because you are good.



   

                   

They hire you because you

assuage their sense of guilt.



   

                   

They use you, Diego,



   

                   

and you are too vain

to see it.



   

                   

- No!

- Diego, no!



   

                   

What are you doing?



   

                   

Basta.



   

                   

Whoever takes the biggest

swig can dance with me.



   

                   

Bravo.



   

                   

Diego, let's see...



   

                   

I'd rather have

an intelligent enemy



   

                   

than a stupid friend.



   

                   

- Oh!



   

                   

It's more than

the man, no?



   

                   

Shall we?



   

                   

  The night will go by  



   

                   

  Without hurrying nostalgia  



   

                   

  Our wound will be a tango  



   

                   

  Our souls

a bleeding accordion  



   

                   

  We will be tonight

all day long  



   

                   

  Come back to me  



   

                   

  Love me in the dark  



   

                   

  In our blue room  



   

                   

  Where there was no sun

for us  



   

                   

  Blind me  



   

                   

  Kill my heart  



   

                   

  In our blue room  



   

                   

  My  



   

                   

  My love  



   

                   

The village, united,



   

                   

advance to the defeated!



   

                   

The village, united,

advance to the defeated!



   

                   

The village, united,

advance to the defeated!



   

                   

...and more women.



   

                   

Next time I'll make sure

that happens, okay?



   

                   

Miss Kahlo.



   

                   

You may have to hold me up.



   

                   

That Torres is a good man,



   

                   

but he's got to be

much more careful.



   

                   

What is this, your studio?



   

                   

One of the benefits

of being party leader...



   

                   

you can arrange for the drinking

to be done close to home.



   

                   

And now that you are

officially a comrade,



   

                   

I believe I can let you see it,

if you like.



   

                   

Hey, listen.



   

                   

If you think

I'm going to sleep with you



   

                   

just because you've taken me

under your wing,



   

                   

you're wrong.



   

                   

Me?



   

                   

I was painting murals



   

                   

and womanizing in peace

when you came along.



   

                   

Anyway, sex is like pissing.



   

                   

People take it

much too seriously.



   

                   

In Russia... oh, my God...



   

                   

in Russia, everyone was

fucking like rabbits.



   

                   

Well, this isn't Russia.



   

                   

No, thank Christ.



   

                   

I have a proposal.



   

                   

We will not sleep together.



   

                   

We will solemnly swear,

right here, right now,



   

                   

that we will be friends only.



   

                   

Fine.



   

                   

Comrades... colleagues...



   

                   

and friends forever.



   

                   

Did you arrange for that?



   

                   

Cost me a fortune.



   

                   

I have a scar.



   

                   

Let me see it.



   

                   

You're perfect.



   

                   

Perfect.



   

                   

Mmm!



   

                   

I always wanted a man

with melones bigger than mine.



   

                   

You know

what I've always loved?



   

                   

What?



   

                   

A girl with cojones.



   

                   

Aah!



   

                   

Ooh!



   

                   

Aah!



   

                   

- Aah!

- Oh!



   

                   

These are good, Frida.

I love them.



   

                   

Hmm.



   

                   

And you were probably painting

better when you were   .



   

                   

That's nonsense.



   

                   

I could never paint like this.



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

I couldn't.

I-I'm serious.



   

                   

I paint what I see...

the world outside.



   

                   

But you...



   

                   

you paint from here.



   

                   

It's wonderful.



   

                   

I can see why you're

so successful with women.



   

                   

We'll have to get married,

you know.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

The thing is...



   

                   

I think it's quite possible



   

                   

that we were born

for each other,



   

                   

so we should marry.



   

                   

But you don't believe

in marriage.



   

                   

Of course I do.

I've had two wives already.



   

                   

Exactly.



   

                   

You can't be true

to only one woman.



   

                   

True, yes.



   

                   

Faithful... no.



   

                   

Unfortunately,



   

                   

I'm physiologically incapable

of fidelity.



   

                   

- Oh, really?

- Yes.



   

                   

A doctor acquaintance of mine

confirmed this.



   

                   

What a convenient diagnosis.



   

                   

Is fidelity that important

to you?



   

                   

Loyalty is important to me.



   

                   

Can you be loyal?



   

                   

To you?



   

                   

Always.



   

                   

Good.



   

                   

Because I love you, panzon.



   

                   

Fridocha.



   

                   

I accept.



   

                   

What a beautiful bride

you are.



   

                   

- You have to come in.

- Don't touch me.



   

                   

Oh, you think

I'm going to, uh...



   

                   

But he's divorced twice.



   

                   

He's had God knows

how many children.



   

                   

And he's an atheist,

Guillermo.



   

                   

Perhaps you have forgotten,



   

                   

and forgive me

for reminding you,



   

                   

but I am a German Jew,

and you married me, remember?



   

                   

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 bitch!



   

                   

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.

- Sķ, seņora.



   

                   

Quit it.



   

                   

Eh?



   

                   

Time for your nap.



   

                   

The other night...

I was very drunk.



   

                   

I know.



   

                   

It's all right.



   

                   

Ay, niņa, 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.



   

                   

Seņora 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 bitch!



   

                   

That model, huh?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

It was just a fuck,

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 fuck

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       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.



   

                   

Seņor Diego Rivera!



   

                   

The gringos are

friendly enough,



   

                   

but the most important thing

in Gringolandia



   

                   

is to have ambition...



   

                   

to succeed

in becoming somebody.



   

                   

And the somebodies



   

                   

are the only ones

that interest them.



   

                   

I despise this pretension.



   

                   

This big shit

interests me not at all.



   

                   

Of course, Diego loves it.



   

                   

He's like a big Mexican piņata

with enough candy for everyone.



   

                   

Everything about this country

inspires him.



   

                   

Two loose eggs,

hot cinnamon bun,



   

                   

two black coffees...

anything else?



   

                   

- That's fine.

- Thank you.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

Are you guys ready?

Hmm?



   

                   

Well...



   

                   

I never thought

I'd hear myself say this...



   

                   

but you were better

than your husband.



   

                   

You weren't upset about that,

were you?



   

                   

I mean he... he said

you wouldn't be.



   

                   

Oh, he did, did he?



   

                   

Well, you weren't the first,

and you won't be the last.



   

                   

Why do you put up with it?



   

                   

Look, Diego's how he is,



   

                   

and that's how I love him.



   

                   

I cannot love him

for what he's not.



   

                   

Anyway...



   

                   

my sweet Gracie...



   

                   

I get along just fine.



   

                   

- Congratulations.

- Thank you.



   

                   

Over here.

Can we get your picture?



   

                   

Mr. Rivera.



   

                   

That's a lot of wall.



   

                   

It's all there is.



   

                   

Gentlemen, please. Please,

I have to get back to work.



   

                   

I'm sorry.



   

                   

- Thank you.

- Thank you very much.



   

                   

Are you a painter too,

Mrs. Rivera?



   

                   

No. Just killing time.



   

                   

She's much better than me.



   

                   

You'll see.



   

                   

What did the doctor say?



   

                   

He might be able

to improve the pain,



   

                   

but the bones

would have to be reset.



   

                   

Blah, blah, blah.

Blah, blah, blah.



   

                   

The usual speech.

I know it by heart.



   

                   

I'm pregnant.



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

Can your body take it?



   

                   

If it can take you, it can take

a little Dieguito.



   

                   

No, no, Frida.



   

                   

He's not very optimistic.



   

                   

This is not...



   

                   

I-I c-can't bear

to think of you in pain.



   

                   

I'm used to pain.



   

                   

This is not...



   

                   

I'm not a good example of...



   

                   

It's not a good time.



   

                   

There's the Rockefeller

commission.



   

                   

Detroit. Chicago.



   

                   

All that traveling.



   

                   

No, it's... it's too much.



   

                   

You really want this baby,

Frida?



   

                   

I do.



   

                   

All right.



   

                   

All right?



   

                   

All right, let's try

and have this baby.



   

                   

Shh, shh, shh.

Listen, listen.



   

                   

Hmm.



   

                   

He's reciting

The Communist Manifesto.



   

                   

Hoy!



   

                   

She's lost a lot of blood.



   

                   

I want to see her!



   

                   

She needs to sleep.



   

                   

You should go home and try

and get some rest.



   

                   

Frida!



   

                   

You should be in bed,

Mrs. Rivera.



   

                   

The baby came out in pieces.



   

                   

Come with me.

Let's go back to bed.





 

                   

It never formed properly.



 

                   

We can try again,

but you must rest.



 

                   

- Mrs. Rivera...

- But he's my son.



 

                   

Mrs. Rivera.



 

                   

I want to see him!



 

                   

What did you do with him?!



 

                   

I want to see my son!



 

                   

Mr. Rivera, please...



 

                   

What did you do with him?!



  

                   

All right, chiquita,

I'll take care of it.



  

                   

Diego...



  

                   

I promise. I promise.



  

                   

What the hell is this?



  

                   

Breakfast.



  

                   

You trying to kill me?



  

                   

I need fuel to work.



  

                   

Listen, panzon,

if you get any fatter,



  

                   

it's going to be you

in the hospital next time.



  

                   

You know, I don't

believe in God,



  

                   

but I still thank him every day

that he kept you safe for me.



  

                   

Hmm, really?



  

                   

I tell him he's got

a lot of explaining to do.



  

                   

From now on, I'm going to

get Happy Rockefeller



  

                   

to bring my breakfast

over from   .



  

                   

Uh-oh.



  

                   

Frida?



  

                   

Frida...



  

                   

You are here.



  

                   

I left him.



  

                   

And that was his parting gift?



  

                   

I should have

been there for you.



  

                   

You're here now.



  

                   

She'll throw a fit

if I let her damn plants die.



  

                   

We fought so much.



  

                   

Sometimes I...



  

                   

sometimes I would regret

that I ever married her.



  

                   

I would think how I hated her.



  

                   

You do enough damage

to one another,



  

                   

you begin to think that way.



  

                   

Well, then she gets sick and...

I tend her garden.



  

                   

The soul of our sister, Matilde,



  

                   

rest in peace.



  

                   

In the name of the Father,

the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.



  

                   

Amen.



  

                   

Our Father, who art in Heaven,

hallowed be Thy name.



  

                   

Thy kingdom come,



  

                   

Thy will be done on Earth

as it is in Heaven.



  

                   

Give us this day

our daily bread...



  

                   

You'd seen my work.



  

                   

You knew my politics

when you hired me.



  

                   

Yeah, I showed you

the sketches.



  

                   

I discussed them with you

and your father.



  

                   

What were you expecting from me?

A line of dancing girls?



  

                   

No, but nor was I expecting

a portrait of Lenin.



  

                   

Now, let's be honest.



  

                   

In the sketches that

you showed me originally,



  

                   

it was just

some anonymous worker.



  

                   

He transformed himself into

Lenin of his own accord.



  

                   

No, you transformed him

into Lenin



  

                   

because they took shots

at us in the paper!



  

                   

Do you really think

that my family



  

                   

is influenced

by newspaper hacks?



  

                   

I would've defended you.



  

                   

I will defend you

against any attack



  

                   

because the work is thrilling.



  

                   

As always.



  

                   

But a portrait

of Vladimir Lenin



  

                   

will offend many people...



  

                   

in particular, my father.



  

                   

You see, you're putting me

in an impossible position.



  

                   

So I'm asking you to please

change this one detail.



  

                   

It's against my principles.



  

                   

Yes, well, you've adjusted

your principles



  

                   

to come to our parties

and eat at our table,



  

                   

so I hope

you will reconsider.



  

                   

- Go home!



  

                   

Go home!



  

                   

You've got quite a crowd

out there.



  

                   

Half of them think

you're the devil...



  

                   

Half of them think

you're a hero.



  

                   

Tell me honestly

what you think.



  

                   

If you lie down with dogs,

you should expect fleas.



  

                   

No, seriously.

This is really frightening me.



  

                   

Why?



  

                   

Because I'm actually

wondering if he's right.



  

                   

Perhaps I am being foolish,

risking too much.



  

                   

Diego, you can't lose.



  

                   

Forget about

artistic integrity.



  

                   

You've done better ones

than this, and you'll do more.



  

                   

But whatever happens,

you have aroused people.



  

                   

You've made them get passionate

about their ideals.



  

                   

There's not another painter

in the world who can say that.



  

                   

He could walk in here tomorrow

and tear it down.



  

                   

You'd still have won.



  

                   

Ah, maybe.



  

                   

He doesn't have the balls.



  

                   

Diego!



  

                   

Seņor Rivera.



  

                   

I must ask you one last time

to reconsider your position.



   

                   

I will not compromise

my vision.



   

                   

In that case...



   

                   

this is your fee,



   

                   

paid in full, as agreed.



   

                   

But your services

are no longer required.



   

                   

It's my painting!



   

                   

On my wall.



   

                   

It's the people's wall!

You bastard!



   

                   

Diego, let's go home.



   

                   

Frida, we have to fight

these bastards.



   

                   

They tore down the wall,

but the painting is up here.



   

                   

I'll do it again,

and I'll use his money!



   

                   

What money? We don't even have

enough to get to Chicago.



   

                   

We're not going to Chicago.

They canceled the commission.



   

                   

It's time to go home.



   

                   

What?!



   

                   

With my tail between my legs?



   

                   

We don't belong here.



   

                   

I am tired of these people,



   

                   

and I am tired of

who you are around them.



   

                   

See that?!



   

                   

Hmm? You want to

go back to that?!



   

                   

Yes!

I want to go back to that!



   

                   

Ahh.



   

                   

I'm working.



   

                   

I can see that.



   

                   

I brought you some lunch.



   

                   

The doctor says you should

eat more, for once.



   

                   

Puta madre!



   

                   

Diego.



   

                   

All right, that's enough.



   

                   

Diego!



   

                   

Diego, stop!



   

                   

Lord X olotl...



   

                   

prince of darkness.



   

                   

You're the best

art critic there is.



   

                   

Only you see what shit

this country has made of me.



   

                   

Diego...



   

                   

You need help.



   

                   

Frida, why do you and Diego

have separate houses?



   

                   

Because we are

two different people,



   

                   

but our love makes us

into one.



   

                   

That's why we have the bridge.



   

                   

So, you mean,

the bridge is your love?



   

                   

Yeah. That's a

good way to put it.



   

                   

Then why is it such

a small bridge?



   

                   

He's not working.

He's sick.



   

                   

He's depressed.



   

                   

He says the people

in this country are like mules



   

                   

they're so stupid.



   

                   

And he blames it all on me

for making him come back.



   

                   

That's ridiculous.



   

                   

Still, you are lucky

to have him.



   

                   

I feel so desperate every day.



   

                   

Sometimes I even think

of going back.



   

                   

Well, you're not.



   

                   

What about a job?



   

                   

You could help me out

organizing Diego's studio.



   

                   

Where do I start?



   

                   

Don't touch anything.



   

                   

Diego...



   

                   

Don't worry.

He's a pussycat.



   

                   

Shh.



   

                   

Go downstairs and play.



   

                   

- Now!



   

                   

- Now!

- Oh, my God.



   

                   

Ay!



   

                   

My goddamn sister!



   

                   

You're an animal!



   

                   

Son of a bitch!



   

                   

Frida... Fri...



   

                   

Get out! Get out!



   

                   

- Frida.



   

                   

Frida.



   

                   

I'm a beast.



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

I-I-I-I'm an idiot, but it meant

nothing, Frida, nothing.



   

                   

Frida, talk to me!



   

                   

There have been two big

accidents in my life, Diego...



   

                   

the trolley and you.



   

                   

You are by far the worst.



   

                   

  I'm tired of crying  



   

                   

  And the dawn doesn't break  



   

                   

  I don't know whether

to curse you or pray for you  



   

                   

  I'm afraid of looking for you

and finding you  



   

                   

  Where my friends assure me  



   

                   

  That you go  



   

                   

  Now you've taken your bill

for the spree  



   

                   

  Black dove  



   

                   

  Black dove  



   

                   

  Where, where will you walk?  



   

                   

  Don't play with my honor...  



   

                   

  If your caresses have to be

mine from no one else  



   

                   

  And although I love you  



   

                   

Get out!



   

                   

  Madly  



   

                   

Out! Out! Go!



   

                   

  Black dove  



   

                   

  You are the rule

of suffering  



   

                   

  I want to be free  



   

                   

  To live my life

with whom I want  



   

                   

  God, give me strength  



   

                   

  I'm dying from going

to look for it  



   

                   

It's a limp up three flights

of stairs,



   

                   

I can't afford any furniture,

and it's cold at night.



   

                   

But at least I know who's

fucking who in my own house.



   

                   

Diego's not giving you

any money?



   

                   

I'd rather be poor.



   

                   

She was my sister...



   

                   

not some model.



   

                   

My own sister.



   

                   

To hell with him.



   

                   

To hell with him.



   

                   

Find some work.

Pay your own bills for a while.



   

                   

I'll sell some paintings.



   

                   

Not enough to cover

your bar bill.



   

                   

No, don't get me wrong...

I love your paintings...



   

                   

I'm just not sure you should

count on them for a living.



   

                   

They're tough, you know.



   

                   

I mean, look at this.



   

                   

What the hell is this?



   

                   

It was in the damn papers.



   

                   

A man stabbed his wife

   times,



   

                   

and when the judge asked him

why he did it,



   

                   

he said, "But it was just

a few small nips."



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

Mmh.



   

                   

Who's that?



   

                   

The ghost of Frida Kahlo.



   

                   

Oh...



   

                   

I remember her.



   

                   

How are you?



   

                   

Lonely.



   

                   

Only you ghosts come

to visit these days.



   

                   

So...



   

                   

how is your Diego?



   

                   

I don't know why

I called him that.



   

                   

He was never mine.

Never will be.



   

                   

But he's fine.

Painting, I guess.



   

                   

And you?

Are you also painting?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

And I want you to pose for me.



   

                   

You don't even have to

leave the house.



   

                   

I want to leave the house.



   

                   

All right, then.



   

                   

We'll go somewhere different

every day.



   

                   

That sounds good.



   

                   

You've painted everyone else

in the family.



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

A long time ago.



   

                   

Remind me what I wanted then.



   

                   

You wanted to be

your own person.



   

                   

Frida...



   

                   

She never liked you, you know.



   

                   

She told me you would only

bring me troubles.



   

                   

There is something

I must discuss with you...



   

                   

A favor I need to ask of you.



   

                   

You've got a lot of nerve



   

                   

to come here asking me

to do you favors.



   

                   

No, it's not for me.

It's Trotsky.



   

                   

The Norwegians

have expelled him,



   

                   

no other country

will take him,



   

                   

and Stalin wants him dead.



   

                   

I have appealed

to President Cardenas myself.



   

                   

They have granted him asylum

here in Mexico.



   

                   

I want you to welcome him

with me.



   

                   

Let him live

in your father's house.



   

                   

I know it's a lot to ask,



   

                   

but this is a difficult

transition for them.



   

                   

And you, Frida...



   

                   

you bring life and warmth

to any place.



   

                   

Anyway...



   

                   

Trotsky is a very great man

in enormous danger,



   

                   

and we have the opportunity

to help him.



   

                   

Yes, all right.



   

                   

Such commotion.



   

                   

I don't understand...



   

                   

such a commotion

for a philosopher.



   

                   

A very great man, Papa.



   

                   

A true revolutionary.



   

                   

It's an important service

we're doing.



   

                   

If you admire him,

why don't you advise him



   

                   

not to get involved

in politics?



   

                   

Politics are ruinous.



   

                   

Good advice, Papa.



   

                   

I'm sure he'll agree.



   

                   

I regret it was not possible

for me to meet you at your boat.



   

                   

Natalia and I,

we are deeply indebted to you



   

                   

for your generosity

in these difficult times.



   

                   

Your charming wife,



   

                   

she has made the last leg

of our trip such a delight.



   

                   

We are profoundly honored



   

                   

to have you and your wife

in our home.



   

                   

Ay, Diego, they're starving.

Let's feed them.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

No, i-it's true!

It's true!



   

                   

I could not believe it!

These people are idiots!



   

                   

They scream about

Hitler's aggression,



   

                   

a-a-and then sing

Stalin's praises.



   

                   

Aren't they the same creature?



   

                   

Yes, but not exactly.



   

                   

Of course

they are both monsters,



   

                   

but Hitler at least

is a madman with a vision.



   

                   

Vision? He's insane!



   

                   

Of course he is insane,



   

                   

but he has the ability

to mobilize the people's minds,



   

                   

whereas Stalin, he's...

he is so dull.



   

                   

There is the brutality,



   

                   

but when you get

right down to it,



   

                   

Stalin is nothing

but a bureaucrat,



   

                   

and that is what is

smothering our revolution.



   

                   

They are the same,



   

                   

but only in that the insanity

of power has overruled them.



   

                   

And between them,



   

                   

they will consume

the continent.



   

                   

Madness.



   

                   

Yes... but a challenge.



   

                   

Look at us...

Mexican, Russian, French...



   

                   

in this wonderful new planet

Rivera.



   

                   

I tell you this, my friends,



   

                   

in the experience

of my lifetime,



   

                   

the failure and the pain



   

                   

have certainly outstripped

the triumphs.



   

                   

But this has not only

not destroyed my faith...



   

                   

my faith in reason, in truth,

in human solidarity...



   

                   

but, on the contrary,



   

                   

it has made it

indestructible.



   

                   

I see the hope of the world

in you,



   

                   

and, from my heart,

I thank you.



   

                   

Na zdorov'ya!



   

                   

- Na zdorov'ya!

- Na zdorov'ya!



   

                   

- Salud!

- Salud!



   

                   

Imagine living your life

like that...



   

                   

with a price on your head...

and staying so calm.



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

Good night, Diego.



   

                   

Whoo.



   

                   

Oh, stop it, Andre.

I hate flattery.



   

                   

I don't care.

It is wonderful, wonderful work.



   

                   

You've seen all these,

I take it?



   

                   

Of course.

I tell her all the time.



   

                   

Julian Levy took a couple

of her paintings to New York



   

                   

and sold both of them,



   

                   

and she sold another four

to that actor...



   

                   

t-t-the gangster.



   

                   

Edward G. Robinson.



   

                   

Yeah, for $    apiece.



   

                   

He was robbed.



   

                   

We haven't been able

to fool anyone else.



   

                   

My little paintings can't mean

anything to anyone but me.



   

                   

Stop!



   

                   

Get down!



   

                   

They put a bag by the door!

Get back!



   

                   

- Let's get inside.

- Get back!



   

                   

- Inside, quickly.

- There is no time.



   

                   

- Cover him! Hurry!

- Inside. Everybody inside.



   

                   

- Take him inside!

- Frida!



   

                   

Frida, what are you doing?!



   

                   

Hallowed be Thy name...



   

                   

I give you five seconds

to get out of here.



   

                   

One!



   

                   

- Two!



   

                   

It's all right.



   

                   

It's all right.



   

                   

Sorry about that.



   

                   

It was my mother's sisters.



   

                   

What do you mean?



   

                   

They were leaving icons

and sprinkling holy water.



   

                   

They think this house

is cursed,



   

                   

and that you

are the antichrist.



   

                   

I want you to think

about it seriously.



   

                   

You could be part of the

Mexican exhibition in Paris.



   

                   

What I really want is a show

in my own country.



   

                   

Which they will give you



   

                   

once you become famous

somewhere else.



   

                   

Your paintings should be seen.



   

                   

So, who is coming up with me?



   

                   

It's harder than you think.



   

                   

Ah, everything

is harder than we think.



   

                   

I'll go.



   

                   

Are you sure?



   

                   

If an old man can do it,

why not a cripple?



   

                   

No, no, no, no.

It's okay.



   

                   

I don't think assassins

are awaiting at the top.



   

                   

I'll race you.



   

                   

Frida...



   

                   

how were you hurt?



   

                   

I couldn't even tell you

anymore.



   

                   

I've been cut into, rebroke,

and reset so many times.



   

                   

I'm like a jigsaw puzzle.



   

                   

And all the operations

have done more damage



   

                   

than the accident,

for all I know.



   

                   

Everything hurts.



   

                   

But the leg...

the leg is the worst.



   

                   

But I'm all right.



   

                   

At the end of the day,



   

                   

we can endure much more

than we think we can.



   

                   

That's what I loved

about your paintings...



   

                   

that they carry that message.



   

                   

You said that nobody

would care about them,



   

                   

but I think you are wrong...



   

                   

because your paintings express

what everyone feels...



   

                   

that they are alone in pain.



   

                   

Maybe.



   

                   

Leon...



   

                   

tell me about your children.



   

                   

My children.



   

                   

We knew the girls had been

murdered and one of the boys.



   

                   

We thought the other

was still alive in the prison.



   

                   

But that letter came.



   

                   

He was executed, too.



   

                   

They are all gone.



   

                   

I have condemned my family...



   

                   

as I am condemned.



   

                   

You mustn't say that.



   

                   

But it's true.



   

                   

Stalin has more power

than any tsar.



   

                   

I'm alone with few friends

and no resources



   

                   

against the world's biggest

killing machine.



   

                   

So what can I do

but keep on working... living.



   

                   

You cannot imagine what a joy

it is for me to be here,



   

                   

to see all this.



   

                   

It is the first time I felt

like a real person in years.



   

                   

In his book

"State and Revolution,"



   

                   

Lenin purged from the genuine

teaching of Karl Marx



   

                   

all the spurious ingredients



   

                   

introduced

by the social democracy.



   

                   

John, I am picking it up

from "social democracy."



   

                   

Frida.



   

                   

This is the book I mentioned.



   

                   

Tell me what you think.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

I'll be back in an hour.



   

                   

No, no, no, no, no.

It is better this way.



   

                   

We will stop disrupting

your lives.



   

                   

We're not going far,

just around the corner.



   

                   

I wish you would reconsider,

if only for security.



   

                   

We will be more than safe.

Trust me.



   

                   

Do svidaniya.



   

                   

Many thanks, my friend.



   

                   

We'll see you soon.



   

                   

Natalia...



   

                   

It makes no sense.

It was for his own well-being.



   

                   

He's not thinking

of his well-being.



   

                   

He's thinking of hers.



   

                   

What are you talking about?



   

                   

I'm talking about somebody



   

                   

willing to sacrifice a little

of their own pleasure



   

                   

rather than go on hurting

the woman who loves him.



   

                   

Have you lost your mind?!



   

                   

Go to hell, Diego.



   

                   

You know what the consequences

of this could be?



   

                   

He's not scared.

Why should you be?



   

                   

Oh, dear, God, Frida,

of all people, why?!



   

                   

Because we wanted to.



   

                   

You've broken my heart, Frida.



   

                   

It hurts, doesn't it?



   

                   

But why?



   

                   

It was just a fuck,

like a handshake.



   

                   

I told you who I was

when you married me.



   

                   

Yes, you did,

and I married you anyway,



   

                   

and you promised to be loyal.



   

                   

You've been my comrade,



   

                   

my fellow artist,



   

                   

my best friend.



   

                   

But you've never been

my husband.



   

                   

Fridocha...



   

                   

"Dear Diego,

how are you, panzon?



   

                   

Why didn't you tell me Paris

was such a nightmare?"



   

                   

"The French are the most

pretentious bores in the world.



   

                   

"I'd rather sit on the floor

of a market in Toluca



   

                   

"selling tortillas



   

                   

"than have to listen

to the prattling



   

                   

of the artistic bitches

of Paris."



   

                   

"There really hasn't been

as much interest



   

                   

in the exhibition

as Breton promised."



   

                   

"Mexican artists are nothing

but an exotic curiosity here."



   

                   

"All in all,

it's been lonely,



   

                   

and I crave news from home."



   

                   

"Diego, this letter is a lie.



   

                   

"Paris has been good to me.



   

                   

"But without you,

it means nothing.



   

                   

"All the rage of our    years

together passes through me,



   

                   

"and I'm left knowing that I

love you more than my own skin.



   

                   

"And though

you may not love me as much,



   

                   

"you do love me a little,

don't you?



   

                   

"If this is not true,



   

                   

"I'll always be hopeful

that it could be.



   

                   

"I adore you.



   

                   

Frida."



   

                   

There are rumors going around

that I wanted Trotsky killed.



   

                   

We fought lately, it's true,

but...



   

                   

They may try

to arrest me again.



   

                   

Talk to the president.



   

                   

No.



   

                   

No, I'm going to California.



   

                   

- California?

- Yes.



   

                   

And, Frida...



   

                   

I want us to divorce.



   

                   

For who...



   

                   

that American actress?



   

                   

Jesus, Diego.



   

                   

No, Frida, no.



   

                   

It will be better this way.



   

                   

We have both done better

as friends.



   

                   

- I haven't.

- You have.



   

                   

You're doing very well

on your own.



   

                   

I'm proud of you.

You don't need...



   

                   

If you want to go, just go.



   

                   

  Everyone tells me the dark  



   

                   

  Sad one  



   

                   

  Dark but affectionate  



   

                   

  Everyone tells me the dark,

sad one  



   

                   

  Dark but affectionate  



   

                   

  I'm like the green chile,

sad one  



   

                   

  Spicy but tasty  



   

                   

  I'm like the green chile,

sad one  



   

                   

  Spicy but tasty  



   

                   

  Woe is me, sad one, sad one,

sad one  



   

                   

  Carry me to the river  



   

                   

  Cover me with your wrap,

sad one  



   

                   

  I'm freezing to death  



   

                   

  I love you,

do you want, sad one  



   

                   

  Do you want me

to love you more?  



   

                   

  If I've already given you

life, sad one  



   

                   

  What more do you want?  



   

                   

  Do you want to ki...  



   

                   

Listen to me...



   

                   

I don't particularly care

for Mr. Trotsky,



   

                   

but we can't go around

having political refugees



   

                   

murdered in our country.



   

                   

Now, can we?



   

                   

Once more,

where is your husband?



   

                   

I don't have a husband.



   

                   

Frida?



   

                   

Oh, my God.



   

                   

Cristi.



   

                   

I'm so sorry.



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

It was not your fault.

It was mine.



   

                   

I should have never put you

in the room with him.



   

                   

What did you do

to get me out of here?



   

                   

Diego. He went crazy

when he heard.



   

                   

He called President Cardenas

immediately.



   

                   

Ay.



   

                   

Diego.



   

                   

Not much more.



   

                   

How long has your foot

been like this?



   

                   

Who knows? Let's take

one disaster at a time.



   

                   

Just patch me up

so I can paint, please.



   

                   

These are gangrened.



   

                   

They'll have to come off.



   

                   

You're lucky it hasn't spread

to your leg.



   

                   

You've lost weight.



   

                   

Ah.



   

                   

You've lost your toes.



   

                   

Is that why you're here...



   

                   

to offer your condolences?



   

                   

I'm here to see how you are.



   

                   

How do you feel?



   

                   

Tired of answering

that question.



   

                   

Otherwise, like shit.



   

                   

How are you?



   

                   

I'm...



   

                   

I'm here to...



   

                   

ask you to marry me.



   

                   

I don't need rescuing, Diego.



   

                   

I do.



   

                   

I've lost the toes

of one foot.



   

                   

My back is useless.



   

                   

I have an infection

of the kidneys.



   

                   

I smoke. I drink. I curse.



   

                   

I can't have children.



   

                   

I have no money,

and a stack of hospital bills.



   

                   

Should I keep going?



   

                   

That's practically a letter

of recommendation.



   

                   

Frida...



   

                   

Frida...



   

                   

I miss... us.



   

                   

They say you should never

believe a limping dog



   

                   

or the tears of a woman.



   

                   

They're wrong.



   

                   

  Long live the life  



   

                   

  That yesterday,

that yesterday left  



   

                   

  Long live the shadows

of my voices crying far away  



   

                   

  Long live the dreams

that never awoke my love  



   

                   

  Happiness,

what good is it now  



   

                   

  If I sing to the light

of your shadow?  



   

                   

Cristina!



   

                   

Come on!



   

                   

Aaah!



   

                   

"Feet, what do I need you for

if I have wings to fly?"



   

                   

I want you to burn

this Judas of a body.



   

                   

I don't want to be buried.



   

                   

I've spent enough time

lying down.



   

                   

Burn it.



   

                   

Frida...



   

                   

No, I don't think

I'm Frida anymore.



   

                   

I think all the Frida in me

has disappeared.



   

                   

Look at what's left.



   

                   

Why do you stay?



   

                   

You stupid girl.



   

                   

Are you crazy?

I forbid it!



   

                   

Stop it, Diego!

You can't force me to stay!



   

                   

- Oh, yes, I can!

- Give it to me!



   

                   

No, Frida!



   

                   

No, we've been through

all this before!



   

                   

I'm going, damn it!

Give me back my fucking leg!



   

                   

Doctor, please help me.



   

                   

What's going on here?



   

                   

I told her

she had to stay in bed.



   

                   

She demanded we call you.



   

                   

- I'm going to my exhibition.

- Frida...



   

                   

I've waited for a show in

my own country my whole life.



   

                   

I'm not going to miss it.



   

                   

If the bronchitis gets worse,

it will turn into pneumonia.



   

                   

Frida, under no circumstances

are you to leave this bed.



   

                   

I'll bring you back

all the gossip, I promise.



   

                   

Cristina!



   

                   

There was this skinny kid

with these eyebrows



   

                   

shouting up at me,



   

                   

"Diego, I want to show you

my paintings!"



   

                   

But, of course,

she made me come down to her.



   

                   

I did, and I've

never stopped looking.



   

                   

But I want to speak about Frida

not as her husband,



   

                   

but as an artist.



   

                   

I admire her.



   

                   

Her work is acid and tender...



   

                   

hard as steel...



   

                   

and fine

as a butterfly's wing.



   

                   

Loveable as a smile...



   

                   

cruel as...



   

                   

the bitterness of life.



   

                   

I-I-I don't believe...



   

                   

that ever before has a woman



   

                   

put such agonized poetry

on canvas.



   

                   

Shut up, panzon.



   

                   

Who died?



   

                   

Where is the music?



   

                   

You see, doctorcito,

I followed your orders.



   

                   

I didn't leave my bed.



   

                   

Frida.



   

                   

Ay, doctor, if you let me

have this tequila,



   

                   

I promise not to drink

at my funeral.



   

                   

It's a deal.



   

                   

To Frida!



   

                   

To Frida!



   

                   

  You were leaving the temple  



   

                   

  One day, sad one  



   

                   

  When upon passing I saw you  



   

                   

  You were leaving the temple

one day, sad one  



   

                   

  When upon passing I saw you  



   

                   

  You wore such a beautiful

embroidered smock, sad one  



   

                   

  That I thought you were

the virgin  



   

                   

  You wore such a beautiful

embroidered smock, sad one  



   

                   

  That I thought you were

the virgin  



   

                   

Are you all right?



   

                   

Lie down with me.



   

                   

   years together,

mi Dieguito.



   

                   

Frida.



   

                   

Happy silver.



   

                   

It's not for two more weeks.



   

                   

   days.



   

                   

  Burn  



   

                   

  This house  



   

                   

  Burn  



   

                   

  It blue  



   

                   

  Heart  



   

                   

  Running on empty  



   

                   

  So lost  



   

                   

  Without you  



   

                   

  But the night sky

blooms with fire  



   

                   

  And the burning bed

floats higher  



   

                   

  And she's free to fly  



   

                   

  Woman so weary,

spread your unbroken wings  



   

                   

  Fly free

as the swallow sings  



   

                   

  Come to the fireworks  



   

                   

  See the dark lady smile  



   

                   

  She burns  



   

                   

  And the night sky

blooms with fire  



   

                   

  And the burning bed

floats higher  



   

                   

  And she's free to fly  



   

                   

  Burn this night  



   

                   

  Black and blue  



   

                   

  So cold in the morning  



   

                   

  So cold without you  



   

                   

  And the night sky

blooms with fire  



   

                   

  And the burning bed

floats higher  



   

                   

  And she's free to fly  



   

                   

  I love the dark days

painted in dark gray hues  



   

                   

  They fade

with the dream of you  



   

                   

  Wrapped in red velvet,

dancing the night away  



   

                   

  Fly, bird  



   

                   

  Midnight blue  



   

                   

  Spread  



   

                   

  Those wings  



   

                   

  Fly free  



   

                   

  With the swallows  



   

                   

  Fly one  



   

                   

  With the wind  



   

                   

  And she is the flame  



   

                   

  That rises up  



   

                   

  And she is a bird

in flight  



   

                   

  And she is a bird

in flight  



   

                   

  In the night

that catches fire  



   

                   

  Hell is this heaven  



   

                   

  And the night sky

blooms with fire  



   

                   

  And the burning bed

floats higher  



   

                   

  And she's free to fly  



   

                   

  Just as far in the sky  



   

                   

  Painting Heaven and hell  



   

                   

  With...  



   

                   

  Burn  



   

                   

  This house  



   

                   

  Burn  



   

                   

  It blue  



   

                   

  Heart running  



   

                   

  On empty  



   

                   

  So lost  



   

                   

  Without  



   

                   

  You  









 
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