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(dramatic orchestral music)
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(dramatic orchestral music)
(spoon clacks against bowl)
(slurping)
(silverware clinks)
(clock ticks)
(footsteps tap)
- How are we today?
Today is the big day.
Today, we're going to smile, aren't we?
Aren't we?
(chuckles)
(ominous music)
We stop after three attempts.
One.
(machine clanks) (currents buzzing)
Two.
(machine clanks) (currents buzzing)
(gasps)
Three.
(machine clanks) (currents buzzing)
(gasping)
And again.
Again!
(dramatic orchestral music) (machine clanks)
(current buzzing)
(machine clanks)
(gasping)
Do it again.
(machine clanks) (currents buzzing)
Again, again, again.
(machine clanks) (currents buzzing)
(gasping)
Again. - You'll kill him.
- Again.
(machine clanks) (currents buzzing)
Again.
(machine clanks) (currents buzzing)
Again.
(machine clanks) (currents buzzing)
Again! (currents buzzing)
Again, again! (currents buzzing)
Again, again, again! (currents buzzing)
(dramatic music)
(EKG machine beeps)
(phone ringing)
(dramatic orchestral music)
- Hell,
Hello?
- [Anna] I'm missing, search for me on the net.
Anna Retter.
- I don't... - Listen.
It's important that you listen.
Tonight at 11:01 p.m., I'm gonna die.
Yes, it's sad but I'm gonna die,
and there's nothing that can be one about that.
You don't know me so you'll get over it.
However, it's important you search me.
- What?
- [Anna] I have to go.
But before I go, I have a question.
- Okay. - Wouldn't it be great
to know what it was like to die?
I mean like the feeling.
The aftermath, what comes next?
Do we find a way?
Do we meet our maker?
Do we actually even have a maker?
(music drowns out voice)
I don't just wanna fade away,
that I'm scared to do.
(music drowns out voice)
(voice distorted)
(booming distortion)
(traffic whirring) (dramatic orchestral music)
- Friend?
Friend?
- It's Fred.
- What are you looking at?
How do we feel about coffee?
How about that, aye?
How about being a combusted planet?
And you're now just a meteorite
that's about to enter a black hole.
Suck. (slurping)
(fingers tap)
You're gone.
What can you see?
Obsolete.
Blackness.
- There's something I'm forgetting to do.
Can you remember?
- Are you ready?
- For the life of me, I,
I can't remember.
(dramatic orchestral music) (fingers tap)
- Robbery.
Corner shop.
Four people, money.
We take the money, split it four ways.
Now, I get 40%.
It is my plan after all.
- What's that number?
(paper crumples)
- Are you ready?
Be real with yourself.
Are you?
(dramatic orchestral music) (whirring)
(footsteps tap)
- What is it?
(chuckles) It's ambivalent.
(sighs)
Aren't you forgetting...
- Something? (dramatic music)
- I need to get free.
I'm trapped.
- Then what of it?
What of freedom?
You break off your shackles.
They bind you no more.
You're free!
But then, then what?
- I don't know.
- You don't know.
Well you aren't free then!
Free me, free me!
You want freedom?
- I walk.
(laughs)
I dream.
(laughs)
I want to be.
(laughing)
- The rest of the time, it's not when you meet,
it's how you meet.
A love story told backwards
always has a happy ending.
(dramatic orchestral music)
Like for example, we met at,
"I was casually uni-cycling when we met."
"Oh, you'll never guess how we met."
"Sybil and I met at."
And so on.
No one ever said, "Well, it was 1:23 p.m."
"On a Tuesday when we met."
Or, "It was 5:46 p.m. when we met by chance."
Etcetera, etcetera.
Actually, maybe some people do,
but that sounds wrong, no?
- Yeah, I guess.
I guess that's true.
(dramatic orchestral music)
- I'm quite capable of sitting here all night.
- So am I.
- Hmm, well actually, you have no choice.
Humans are broken into two factions.
Those who are intelligent enough
to identify their limitations,
and those who will die,
continuing to chase dreams that quite simply,
will never be anything more than unfulfilled whims.
Where do you think you fit into that?
Definitive separation.
(orange squishes)
(chuckles)
Oh, come now.
I'm sure you have something to say on this subject.
I think I know.
(liquid drips)
Can I guess?
- I can't stop you.
- Hmm, that is true.
I'm gonna guess
that you think
that you fit into the dreamers group.
Always dreaming.
Always failing.
But what you don't realise yet,
but you will realise with time,
is that you're like me.
We're destined to be the same.
It is simple natural selection.
That's a theorem I shall never argue with.
Natural selection.
It's got us to where we are.
It has kept us alive.
And you, you are actually intelligent enough
to know your limitation group.
(laughs)
We can spot our own.
- We're not the same.
And you're wrong.
- I am?
- I continue to dream.
To want the best in all things.
I don't believe in limitations.
(laughs)
Well, I don't wanna put the cat amongst the pigeons here,
but maybe,
(gun clicks)
That's because you're crazy.
- I'm not crazy.
I'm not mad.
I can change.
I can be better.
Not crazy, I'm not crazy.
(dramatic orchestral music)
I can be better.
Be better.
- Some people use music to provide or compliment mood.
Are you sad today?
I'll listen to Bob Dylan.
I'm happy today!
I'll listen to The Supremes.
To use music to fill in the gaps
between when you converse and consume information.
Now, that's unique.
To use it as a drug.
It may be the most perfect use of the art.
Being the same as everyone else is not smart.
I mean, in the more conventional sense of the word,
it is smart, but in a more elevated,
one tiny sense of the word, it is stupid.
No one ever got anywhere by being the same,
the average, right?
- Yeah, I guess. - Yeah.
Oh, God, you're such a motormouth.
- Sorry. (mimics alarm buzzing)
Don't be sorry, be better!
One day I'll be old,
and you'll remember this moment when I was young
and beautiful and fiercely opinionated
about things that most likely don't even matter.
Mary, by the way.
Oh! (laughs)
Now, that question about not getting anywhere
by being the average, that was a jumping off point.
You were supposed to challenge me on that
because some people get very far
by being very average.
- Oh, I see.
- Yeah. - Wait, so,
talk more. - No,
no, we don't talk more.
That would infringe on what I'm bringing to the party here.
Shh. - Right.
- (laughs) I don't know.
Oh, maybe less gorm.
- Gorm? - Yeah, the whole
gormless thing you got going on.
- I'm gormless? - Well, you lack gorm, so.
- Lack gorm?
- That helps.
- What? - Well the repetition
really helps with the perception that you're gormless.
- Oh, sarcasm.
- Ding, ding, ding, ding!
Read this?
- No. - Oh.
- But, but, I.
I just got rid of one book.
(bright orchestral music)
- [Daniel] This is Friend.
This is Leanne.
This is T.
This is me.
We will enter the target individually.
- Why?
- Because when do you ever see four people
enter a corner shop together?
- Right.
- Four guns.
We shall use these.
- Why? - Because you get more
jail time for using real guns.
- Right. - Four masks.
- Why? - Because we don't want
our faces on camera. - Why?
(sighs)
Well why don't we all have books like him?
- [Daniel] Friend, why do you have a book?
- Is it friend or Fred?
- Friend, why do you have a book?
- I, I don't know.
(Daniel sighs)
(sighs)
- So, shall we?
- Not yet.
- Now?
(engine whirring)
Now.
Now?
- Now!
Friend?
Give us every penny in your safe, good sir.
- Are you 5'11?
I've always thought I was 5'11 but you seem a bit...
(light pop music)
Is that a water pistol?
- Forget about him.
Give me all the money in your safe!
(grunts)
Money, now!
All right, we're not playing around.
We are without the slightest doubt
(tires screech) in the world,
(sniffs)
(engine revving) the scariest people
you are ever likely to meet. (tires screech)
(car doors slam)
- All right, this is a fuckin' robbery!
- Um, chaps, uh, I hate to get technical,
but, um, we were robbing this place first.
- Can we go then? - No!
- Go get that money I told you to get.
(laughs)
- You think that you're gonna walk out here
with all that money?
- Me? - Aye.
- [Daniel] Hey, friend.
(pigeons cooing)
- So.
- How much is there?
- Plentisome.
- How much is plentisome?
- Enough to go around.
- If you lot fell in a barrel of tits,
you'd come out sucking your own thumbs.
It's not your lucky day.
Now give us the money,
and we'll all on go on with our lives.
- Is she even interested?
- This is a load of bumbaclot!
Can't we just be done with these sad lads and shoot them?
- Hang on there, young fella.
We are gentlemen.
We handle things gently.
- Well, off the bat,
let's get a few things straight.
No one is going to shoot anyone.
You don't have bullets in your guns,
and we have mere water pistols.
(guns tap)
So let's get that out the way.
Uh, secondly, as we were in the shop first,
I believe we're entitled to a larger portion of the profits.
- That's a very well made point.
Would you allow me to air my perspective on things?
- Why, of course, chap.
The metaphorical forum is yours.
Free commonwealth.
(gun fires)
(ceiling patters) (wings flaps)
Excellent point.
So how should we split this money?
60-40, maybe?
- 70-30.
- 65-35?
- 80-20.
- 70-30 sounds good again.
Astute, fine sir.
William Wallace would be proud!
So, let's get counting, shall we?
(cash crinkling)
- 2,000 pounds, I came all the way
from Cardiff for this?
- [Man] This is the sum that you say is plenty?
- Well, you chaps get 1,400 pounds,
we get 600 pounds.
We're all happy! - Uh, can I go?
- No, no, hang on.
On account of the recent revelation,
that the money, in fact, is not plentisome,
I think our arrangement's changed.
- [Fred] Uh, I'm cool with five.
Can I go? - How do you mean?
- Now it's 99-1.
(gun clicks) - Could I?
- Oh, come on, chaps.
- You're fucking funny. - 99-1?
- You fucked me.
You're fucking us. - Did I?
- I'm the one that does the fucking.
- I'm fucking you, am I? - I don't get fucked,
I fuck.
(group chattering)
- Fuck you. - I've had enough of you.
Okay, this isn't gonna be willy-nilly.
This is the real world, okay?
- Everybody! - I suggest
you grow a pair of testicles!
(group chattering)
- Who the fuck are we?
I will blow you away, okay?
(dramatic orchestral music)
(gun firing)
(panting)
(gentle piano music)
(laughs)
(sighs)
(laughs)
- Back when I loved you,
back when I loved you,
everything mattered.
The delicacy of the universe was projected
onto my every latent thought.
The fragility of time seem to always
tether on the end of breakage.
(laughs)
The closer I hold you,
the further away my doubts seemed.
(gentle piano music)
That fragment in time
when our love burned bright
has left us with a fossil
that will continue to show generations
beyond and behind us,
(chuckles) reminding those who encounter it of that time.
(cries)
(sighs)
- [Mary] Well then.
- Hey, hey, you've changed your hair.
- I did?
- Yeah, it's straight now.
It's nice, it's really kinda like...
- You've had a personality transplant.
- (chuckles) Yeah, yeah, I guess.
So, what are you reading now?
What's it about?
- Ah, the futility of life.
- Futility... - Why swim
against the current?
- I totally understand that concept.
- Huh, yeah?
- Yeah, I'm trying to get freedom.
- Is that a question, or...
- A statement. - Oh, a statement.
Based on? - Based on my desire
to get freedom. - I see.
Yeah, read the book.
(Mary gasps)
(Mary laughs)
Yeah, your freedom means nothing.
Did you know we were spawned from fish?
From there, our brains evolved,
took us to land to escape destruction,
from there, our brains evolved us into various mammals
to escape destruction once again,
and now we're,
well, we're this.
Yay, evolution, right?
- Right. (chuckles)
I'm, I'm gonna read this.
I think.
- Did you read the last one?
- Kinda.
- Is that a no?
- Uh, I... - Ooh, it is a no.
Why not?
I ponder.
Maybe it's because you already think you're fully-formed.
No more space to grow and develop.
- Hey, no, I just know what I want.
- Freedom.
- Exactly.
- Yeah, I need a new book to read.
- But, but.
(traffic whirring)
- Hey, aren't you forgetting something?
- I am?
- I believe so.
It's 7:00 p.m.
Only four hours left.
- (sighs) I can't remember.
You were laughing before.
- I'm always laughing.
- You won't be laughing when I reach the light, old man.
- Wait, you're following the light?
- Yes. - Why on earth
would you want to follow the light?
- To escape!
Like you're gonna do when you die
because you're old.
- In all forms of literature and religious text,
the light represents the end, the death.
Do you want the death?
- No.
Stop it.
- What?
- Stop looking at me with your old eyes.
- Why?
- You're judging me.
- I don't know who you are.
I can't judge you.
- Exactly, and you never will do
because you're old and you're gonna die soon.
(laughs)
What the hell are you laughing at?
I'm not your damn courtyard jester.
(laughs)
Careful laughing so hard,
you might have a heart attack and die.
- How exciting!
I might come back as a rich man.
(laughs)
- Maybe I need to be someone else.
Maybe then I'll be free.
Maybe, right?
Maybe I'm too inflexible.
Maybe if I just stop fighting
and let it all wash over me.
(waves crashing)
Identify my limitations.
(dramatic music)
Stop chasing dreams, become the inevitable.
My limitations.
Know my limitations, be a slave to them.
Kill your dreams.
Start again.
(dramatic orchestral music)
- Are you finished?
But is the painting finished?
Then you aren't finished.
And even if you never finish it,
I'll still love it.
Because it's you.
(dramatic orchestral music)
- Mary.
- Where's my book?
- Uh.
- You didn't read it, did you?
I knew it, useless.
- No, well, I made a decision.
- Ooh, if we're driven by the subconscious,
are we ever fully making decisions?
- Yes.
- You say that so assuredly,
leaving me to belief that your subconscious
has already decided that you do not wish
to be pigeonholed or have no freewill.
- No, not at all.
- No? - No, that's not true.
- All right, when then tell me about this decision.
- I'm not sure it's relevant anymore.
- Why, because I dare challenge your freewill?
- Yes.
- Then subconsciously, you've already decided
the conclusion to this conversation.
- Yeah, I've decided I'm gonna win this debate.
- Hah!
You've already won.
- How?
- A while back, I made the subconscious,
and then later, the conscious decision
to rid myself of possessions, materials,
and all other such things,
rendering myself fully non-committed
in obtaining anything at all expense.
- Even life?
- Well especially life.
Therefore, to concede defeat to your weak argument
means nothing to me.
(both chuckle)
- I need to save Anna.
- Who?
- Do you have a pen?
- Ah. (sighs)
Huh, doo-doo-doo-doo, hi!
(chuckles)
(pen scrapes) (gasping)
- It's a telephone number.
I just need the last four digits.
- Defacing classic literature, that is a huge sin.
- I'm a sinner. - Uh!
Oh, what possessions will you let go of?
- None.
We're all different, right?
We all choose different paths.
- Maybe you're starting to finally get this.
Beep! (chuckles)
(ominous music)
(pigeons cooing)
- What, what?
No, no, no, no, no.
(breathes heavily)
I'm not crazy.
- So, friend.
What's our conundrum here?
(ominous music)
- What you are
is beyond science.
Your sins.
All your sins form an impenetrable wall
that prohibits confusion.
- [Fred] I am confused here.
- What?
- It's Fred.
- What?
- You keep calling me friend.
It's Fred, not friend.
- You're a meteorite that's about
to enter a black hole.
(dramatic orchestral music)
What can you see?
Pure darkness?
Do you become a new star?
Maybe a new planet.
- It doesn't matter.
- What?
- I am a slave.
- But you're not.
- [Fred] I am.
- Maybe I was wrong.
- [Fred] You are.
- Let's start off fresh.
Wash away everything, hmm?
(water bubbling)
- It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter.
- Of course it matters.
Everything matters.
Every single thing, a singular atom.
That doesn't matter?
Be real with yourself!
(grunts)
(water bubbles) (gasping)
(grunts)
(water bubbles) (gasping)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(Dr. Gladstone grunts)
(water bubbles)
(Dr. Gladstone breathes heavily)
Wait, are you a nihilist?
- Maybe.
- What kind of person claims to be a nihilist?
What kind of person believes in exactly nothing?
Not a person you can trust.
That's for certain.
- Look, it's almost 11 o'clock.
I just need the last four numbers.
We can still save Anna.
- You're ungrateful.
I took you in, I helped ya.
- I've... - Most people
would be happy to have someone like me in their life,
but not you. - I just...
- You're selfish.
You don't listen. - I...
- All right, everything revolves around you.
I called you friend. - It's Fred.
- And all you ever want is more and more!
What about my needs, aye?
What about what I want?
- What do you want?
- What do I want?
Huh.
That made me so happy.
Nobody ever asks me that.
What I want is, one,
you to answer my metaphysical conundrum.
And two, for us to spend 2,000 pounds together
like a couple of real friends.
- 2,000?
- What?
- That's it.
That's the last four digits.
(Daniel laughs)
- Oh, I see. (laughs)
Back to you again, is it?
When will you ever learn?
When will you ever get out of your own head?
- [Fred] But we all live in our own heads.
Right?
- (sighs) Our own heads.
Maybe you are mad.
We live collectively as one.
An inverted, polyamorous society.
We take and they take.
Perfect fluidity
of the left-hand and the right-hand.
Do you think we rob for joy?
Do you think we take for money?
No, Fred.
No!
This is about the flow.
Natural order.
Balance.
Communion.
Space.
Time.
A rhyme.
Reason.
A perfect communist allegory.
They flood in,
others flood in.
What once was sacred
(object clatters)
Is now tarnished.
So we tarnish back.
We strive.
We rise up!
We sit down.
Build the barriers.
Keep them out!
Capitalism flourishes
in a space where there is control.
The perfect system.
With a line discourse.
Queue here, stand behind the yellow line.
That's what this country was built on.
Formation, discipline.
Take a country by force,
but pat them on the back after,
and say, "There, there."
"Now things will be better."
"Now you're part of something."
"Now you're part of us."
"And we're normal."
"And we're correct."
"And we're the only way."
Just like that previously combusted planet
that's now a meteorite entering a black hole.
Huh, now you're part of the commonwealth!
A commonwealth.
A place where your wealth
and our wealth
is common.
Take by guns,
control by commonality.
(scoffs)
Capitalism flourishes in a space
where there is perfect control.
Order!
No chaos.
The perception of symmetry and fluidity.
What you have, I also have.
And what better way to bring about order
than communism?
So, my friend,
we take, they take.
We take,
they take.
(humming) (gun taps)
- That's not right.
Fluidity,
fluidity is freedom.
- Wrong!
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Why don't you ever listen?
- I can tell you about that black hole.
- Ah, too late.
You want to live in your own world.
You can die there too.
- No, no, wait, wait, wait!
Wait, wait! (gun fires)
(soft jazz music)
- I said, "Interesting piece, huh?"
I hear the artist is notoriously difficult.
- Really?
- Those are the rumors, yeah.
- I never trust rumors.
Everyone's wearing the emperor's new clothes
until they become the emperor.
- Is she around?
- Who?
- The creator of this piece.
- I hear she's in the lobby.
She will accept nothing but high-praise.
- That's vile. - Disgraceful.
- So, can I have your autograph?
- Sure, why not?
You know, most people want selfies,
but you want an autograph.
That's fine.
Some of us are digital, some of the less developed
of us are not.
- Wow, I get what they mean by notoriously difficult.
- Talia, do you think most people
would still like my work if I was Indian?
- Indian?
What do you mean? - I mean not white,
middle class.
- Ah, I gather that if you were Indian
you'd be more celebrated.
You'd have a niche, at least. - You're not getting
the point, I mean, those people, that crowd specifically.
- Does it really matter?
- I guess not.
(woman mumbles) - Well don't forget.
To buy rizz, if you want.
(woman mumbles)
Anna.
- You guess not?
- Yeah, I guess not.
- Although, I was thinking, so maybe it does.
- Typical artist, never satisfied.
- I am satisfied.
Okay, maybe I'm not.
I seek perfection, shoot me.
In the head.
- No, baby, you think universal adulation.
- Who doesn't?
- I don't.
- Well, maybe if you weren't in poofty development
or whatever it is you do,
you'd care more.
- Unbelievable.
You've known me for six months,
now you don't know what I do?
- I don't,
I don't care what you do.
- I see, but it does make a difference.
- Okay, I see.
Also, what do you mean by more celebrated?
- What?
- You said I'd be more celebrated.
- So? - So,
I'm not celebrated?
Can we stop walking and get a cab?
- No, I didn't say that,
but if you want me to, I can.
- It's just a strange thing to say is all.
- Oh, please, let's not. - What?
- Not tonight, okay?
We are not getting a car, walking is good.
- Oh, fine.
I'm a slave to my art!
- You're a slave? - Yes, to my art.
- My God, you're so fucking white.
She's a fucking slave.
- To my art, yes.
I'm a slave!
I'm a slave, I'm a slave.
I am the product of slavery.
- [Talia] I don't know her.
(Anna laughs)
- [Anna] Are you sure we can't get a cab?
- You know, I think we should buy the good shit.
Tonight was a success.
Good shit we buy for a success.
- Maybe I should die.
(atmospheric rock music)
- I'm not even going to entertain that.
- It's true.
It's the 27 Club.
All great famous people die at 27.
- You have Hendrix, Cobain. - I know.
So your serious? - Winehouse, Tupac.
- I heard you. - Tupac.
- I don't like Tupac.
I've never had this type.
Actually, looks great.
- Exactly, I don't know why you haven't had it yet.
You know why?
It's 'cause you're country's undeserved.
(laughs)
(chattering)
If you could choose one way to die,
what would you choose?
- Drowning, fire, guns? - I'd go into a gun shop.
- I would choose drowning.
I heard it's nice.
- How would anyone alive even know?
- What method would you choose?
- I choose to change the subject.
- That's fine, we'll circle back to it later.
- Oh, we'll circle around to it, maybe.
(bright orchestral music)
You're still coming out tonight, right?
- Oh, do I have to?
I don't think so.
(gun fires)
(upbeat dance music)
(sobbing) - The story of Lazarus
goes as so.
So there's this sick dude called Lazarus.
And he's on his deathbed.
Basically, he's a goner.
And his two sisters go to Jesus,
and they say, "Jesus, our brother's in a spot of bother."
"He's dying, help."
Jesus says, "Don't worry about it."
"This sickness isn't gonna end in this fellow's death."
Anyway, Lazarus pops his cork, as you do.
And they bury him.
And there he is,
buried for four whole days.
(sobbing)
Then one of his sisters goes to Jesus,
she says, "Listen here, Jesus."
"Have you'd come out here,"
"brother wouldn't have died,"
"with your healing hands and all that."
Once again, Jesus is resilient.
He says, "I am the resurrection and the life."
"Whoever believes in me, shall live."
"Do you believe in me?"
She says, "Yes."
So they go to the tomb.
And then Jesus has a chat with God
and thanks him for listening.
And then he says,
"Lazarus, come forth."
And lo and behold,
Lazarus is resurrected.
(sobbing)
Huh.
Are you religious?
- No.
- So I just wasted a perfectly good tale on you.
(sobbing)
Stop crying.
Babies cry.
Are you a baby?
Hmm?
I can't hear you. - No.
- What? - No.
- Louder. - No.
- Oh, you can do better than that, louder,
scream it, like your life depended on it.
- No!
- Now that was a good no.
(sniffs)
But you were crying.
(sobbing)
So, let's try it again.
But this time, without all that unnecessary sobbing.
Burn up.
- No.
- I like you.
Your friend over there,
not as much.
But you, you're a different animal all together.
You're almost worth keeping alive.
I'm not sure.
Tell me something interesting about yourself
and I'll consider it.
- What?
- Tell me something interesting about yourself
and I'll consider it.
- I'm an artist, I paint.
- Boring.
Try again, Picasso.
- My name is a palindrome.
- What now?
- You can spell it the same way backwards and forwards.
Anna, A-N-N-A, A-N-N-A.
It doesn't matter what way you go,
it's the same thing.
(laughs)
- That was bloody special.
Wow, that was not interesting at all.
(sobs)
But it did make me laugh.
I'm gonna let you live.
(gasps)
Or is it a God-complex, maybe.
Choosing who and when I take a life
and who I breathe life into.
(sighs)
Take your buddies bad batch over there,
and go live to the fullest.
(sniffs)
You any good at that painting malarkey?
Famous?
What's your surname?
- Smith, Smith.
- Anna Smith?
I hate that name.
(whimpers)
I hate that name.
Get yourself a nice little palindrome surname
to go with that palindrome first name of yours,
and turn all this energy here tonight
into a ball of darkness and light.
Paint something so beautiful,
so lush,
that everyone asks what the inspiration is.
And just before you go to answer that question,
every time you're asked it,
only to see my face.
(chuckles)
Every time you give a diplomatic response,
(sniffs)
My face.
Something that reminds you of the time
you were basically dead.
You were dead.
And I decided to raise you
from the tomb.
Huh.
I, Jesus,
you, Lazarus.
(ominous music)
(footsteps tap)
(water spraying)
(ominous piano music)
- I think you said something sweet.
- Si.
Come on, just come out, please?
- Not tonight.
- Really? - Really,
I just wanna relax.
- (scoffs) I can't believe this.
I hate you so much right now, you know.
- I'd hate me too I drew an object of importance.
I'm sorry, okay?
- Well don't be sorry and I'll be better.
All right, well if you're not going out,
I'm not going to go out.
- Why?
- Because I don't trust you.
- Why?
Oh, come on.
Last time was a mistake, okay?
I just took a bad batch.
It was.
Listen, I know I've been speaking about dying tonight,
but I am just playing the role of dissatisfied
but actually very satisfied artist.
Okay?
You can go out, have fun.
- I just want you to be happy.
- I am happy.
Very happy, okay?
Okay?
Oiu, oiu? - Si, si.
(both laugh)
All right, all right, fine, okay.
Do you ever think.
- Spit it out, whatever it is,
spit it out.
- No, I don't want to.
- Okay.
- Okay, that's it, okay?
- I'm not gonna force you to tell me
whatever it is you're internalizing.
- Well I was just gonna ask you
if you think we are a cute couple?
- (chuckles) Was that you asking or...
Yeah, sure.
- That's it?
- Define "cute couple."
- Um, filling each other's gaps.
Compliment each other.
Do we, do we spark enough?
- I don't wanna speak about love.
- Why, you never... - It's such
an unquantifiable thing.
- No, it's not.
- Oh, it fucking is.
- How so?
- Okay, go on, quantify it.
- All right, forget it. - No, quantify it.
- Well it's quantified by my emotion.
- Your emotion?
- Well, yeah, through my emotion.
- Okay.
Well I guess you quantified it then.
- Yes, I did.
So do you love me?
- Do you love me? - Love is a construct.
- All right, so not a prison. - No, no.
- Okay, Jesus. - No, no, just a construct.
- Answer me, dear, do you love me?
- If you ask me that question again,
I'm going to stab you in the eye
with this dirty fork.
(bright pop karaoke)
Not all people use dishwashers.
You end washing your shit by hands anyways.
- That is not the answer to the question I just asked.
- I answered your question.
I said, "No."
I mean, you gotta be real with yourself.
I might find someone better than you.
- Oh. - There's so many people
out there. - Really?
- So many countries, so many genders, species.
- I hear ya, same here.
(singers laughing)
(slow jazz music)
(phone dings)
- Can you please stop using the phone?
- People are posting comments about the piece.
- You live your life worrying about being influential
to people you've never met.
- I don't see what's wrong checking my cellphone
and the net to see what the response is to my work.
(door thuds)
(toilet flushes)
- Answer the question. - What?
- [Talia] I've been with you through everything.
- So?
- [Talia] So, so if you're not going to answer my question,
at least don't ignore me on your phone.
Talk to me. (water splashing)
- Have we not talked enough tonight?
Talking is overrated.
Some people just want action.
- [Talia] Action is overrated.
(bright music)
âª I wanna tell you something âª
âª It's on my mind âª
âª Yeah, I gotta tell you something âª
âª The very first time âª
âª 'Cause I think I miss you, darling âª
âª I miss your smile âª
âª Yeah, I really miss you, darling âª
âª For the very first time âª
âª I step out in the morning âª
âª Her face runs dry âª
âª I woke up in the evening âª
âª Be by your side âª
- Okay, I'll do it. - Huh?
- Paris. - Really?
- Yep, I guess so.
- What made you change your mind?
- Don't ask me anymore questions,
or I'll change my mind.
- I'm affirmative.
- This country's going to the shits anyway.
- That would be the reason then?
- So, when shall we do it?
- Soon, like two weeks.
- Wow, you don't waste time, huh?
- No, I've always wanted to move there.
We'd be alone, it would just be you, me, Paris.
Paris being the name of our kid, or course.
- I'm not having a fucking kid with you!
Shut that noise up.
Plus, you barely got me to agree to this.
- Oh, barely? - Yes, barely.
Now, drink up.
I have to see a woman about a dog.
- What? âª 'Cause I really miss you âª
- A little business deal.
- I thought you said you weren't gonna sell anymore.
- Acting doesn't pay as well as you think it does,
plus I have to pay my way around Paris, don't I?
- I see.
- I promise, last time I'll sell.
We'll be in and out in five minutes tops.
Girl god's honor.
- I'm pretty sure it's scout's honor.
- Mm, girl gods of honor, too.
- Oh, do they?
- Yeah, immense honor.
- You know girl's can't join the scouts.
- (gasps) Really, wow.
Very topical.
- So.
- [Claudia] So?
- Do you love me?
- You know tonight's party was meant
to be your party, right?
- I know, I don't feel comfortable with all that hoo-ha.
- The main party guest isn't there, it looks bad.
- They'll live. - Si, maybe.
(gentle orchestral music)
- Talia, did we buy rizz-liz?
Hello?
- I reminded you.
- Is that a no?
If it's a no, you could just say no.
None or whatever you Spanish people say.
Fine, screw you.
(speaking in foreign language)
I don't speak Spanish.
- [Talia] Of course you don't.
- Talia?
I had a dream last night.
Don't usually sleep enough to dream
or have the energy to remember even if I did,
but this one was so vivid.
My mother and father were fighting.
He was telling me to become an accountant.
Follow the family tradition.
He had my head and he was pushing it
into a pond or a lake.
Like he was baptizing me or something.
My mother, she smiled.
But it wasn't an sadistic smile,
she was smiling at me.
She was happy
'cause I wasn't submitting.
I wasn't swayed, I wasn't cowering to it all.
I was serene as I was dunked in.
Over and over again.
(train rumbling)
- Aren't you bored of this city?
I've been everywhere.
I've seen everything.
Literally everything.
You have to earn an astronomical amount
to even get on the property ladder.
And so who wants to be a slave to corporate capitalism?
- Then come to Paris with me.
- What do you mean? - I'm moving there.
- [Claudia] Are you still banging on about this?
- I'm serious, I'm going,
my art doesn't do well here.
Maybe I just need to see more of the world.
Get out there. - Of course
you fucking have to. - Okay.
- Listen, I used to go to audition after audition
after audition, and I would treat each one
as if it was the end of the fucking world
if I didn't get the role.
Then one day, I was rejected so much
that I walked into the room
and I just did not give a fuck anymore.
And that's when I landed that TV job.
- Yeah, well that was a while ago.
- I'll get another one.
Oh, I bloody hope so.
I'm broke over here. (chuckles)
Anyway, point was and is,
is that you were born into money in the suburbs
and you have sucked from your mother's teat ever since.
- That is not true. - Oh, but it is.
Be real with yourself.
You gotta live on the edge more.
Then you art will improve.
- Right, so you're coming to Paris with me then?
- Not a chance in hell.
- You'll miss me.
- No.
(train rumbles)
(machine clattering)
(gentle music)
(speaking in foreign language)
- In English?
- I said, you never answer me and I don't get why.
- About?
- (scoffs) You know what?
- (sighs) Not this again!
I'm sorry, okay?
- Well don't be sorry,
be better. - Be better.
I know.
- All right.
How many times have I said to you that I love you?
So many.
You can't even say it once.
(dramatic orchestral music)
I've heard you say it to her so many times.
- Oh, come on, that is unfair.
That is so unfair.
- And eight months ago, she left you in pieces.
Six months ago, I came into your life,
and I've turned things around.
Your art is better.
Your maturity is better.
Even your health is better.
- Wow.
- Look, all I'm saying is she was really bad for you, okay?
Like really bad.
And I am really good for you.
For that reason alone, you should love me.
- Interior designers, huh?
So self-consumed.
- Oh, so you do know what I do then?
- Vaguely.
- Can I trust you to be responsible with yourself
when I am not here?
- Yes, Mom.
- For your concession, huh? - Oui, Mom.
- This bad batch, is that a true story?
- Yes.
- Where did you get it from?
- Around. - Around,
what kind of answer is that?
Is it the same batch from that fucking bitch?
- Hey.
- Where's this batch now?
- Where do you think?
I flushed it, it was bad.
- I'm serious, Anna.
You nearly OD'd last break.
- I know.
Bad batch, I almost died,
it won't happen again.
They're tucked away.
Disposed of.
Have fun at the party, Mom.
- You're wrong, you know?
- About what?
- That your art should not leave you
for it to become legendary.
Yeah, everyone remembers the name of the artists.
Dali, Da Vinci, Drake,
but no one remembers the actual art attributed to them.
- Not true. - Look up Van Gogh.
No one remembers any of his art.
Just that the guy cut off his own fucking ear.
- And that, my dear, is my point.
- Do you think we're going to make it?
It feels like we won't, Anna.
I know how true love feels like
and it's never a struggle like this.
- I need to buy some rizz-liz.
- Huh, okay.
I won't be here when you get back.
- Ever or?
Have fun tonight.
- Maybe I'm too beautiful.
- What?
- I keep ending up in shit films.
Maybe if my face matched my character.
(laughs)
I'm serious. - Okay.
- This shitty short film I'm working on,
they haven't a clue.
So there's a scene where the protagonist
is shot by the antagonist,
and he stands there like this,
and then, bang, the antagonist shoots him in the chest,
and he, of course, survives.
What bullshit.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
If you were a big, bad antagonist, cold-blooded,
you're going to shoot to kill.
And if you're going to shoot to kill,
you're going to shoot him straight in head.
Bang!
Head clean off.
The amount of films I've seen
where the good guy gets shot in the chest
and survives is countless.
Total bullshit. - And you're speaking
from experience, of course.
- Maybe.
- Oh right, so you've shot someone?
- Again, maybe.
- So actress by day, but lethal assassin by night
who shoots people in the head.
- There's a lot about me you don't know, Anna.
- Well if it is more on this nonsense,
then thank god it's all over.
(mimics gun firing)
- We never really get to know someone fully, do we?
- Maybe, but I like to think we're different.
- (laughs) None of us are different, Anna darling.
None of us are unique.
We're all simply tiny specs of insignificance
in a universe that engulfs us.
Did you know it takes a million years
for a light from a distant star
to travel to Earth?
Which means that the light you see from a star at night
is from a million years ago.
- Okay. - And the light
you see from the sun everyday
is from eight minutes ago.
Time travel.
- Light, sun, we live in the United Kingdom, my dear.
- Oh, stop being so pedantic.
(laughs) I really hope
an antagonist shoots you in head.
- Wow.
I'm the protagonist?
Oh, and you're my sidekick.
(laughs)
Bang.
(dramatic orchestral music)
Do you think artists create more awe-inspiring art
when they're high?
Intoxicated?
Case in point, I happen to think
the best music, the most seminal music ever created
was created in the 60's.
You have the Rolling Stones, for example.
The Beatles, all of bloody Motown.
They should have called it Blowtown.
Yeah, fine, that was a lame joke.
Where was I?
Oh, yeah.
All of those individuals
and pretty much everyone from that era,
drugged up.
They say heartbreak creates art.
That's true.
Or at least I think it's true.
But that's irrelevant though, isn't it?
Because most conflict creates art.
However, to create great fucking art,
like mind-bending, legacy making,
Alexander Mc-fucking-Queen art,
would you say you need drugs?
(dramatic orchestral music)
My thoughts exactly.
(dramatic orchestral music)
(door slams)
(panting)
(laughs)
(fingers tap)
(dramatic music)
âª I gotta tell you something âª
âª It's on my mind âª
âª I gotta tell you something âª
âª For the very first time âª
âª If I could âª
âª Tell you âª
(banging on door) (speaking in foreign language)
Really?
(banging on door) (speaking in foreign language)
Hello?
(speaking in foreign language)
Who is it?
(speaking in foreign language)
I have a gun!
(speaking in foreign language) In English, I speak English!
- [Man] I'm sorry.
Wrong place.
- Yes, fucking wrong place!
(panting)
(pills rattle)
(ominous music)
(gasping)
(retching)
- So you love coffee.
- Everyone loves coffee.
- Jet black coffee?
- Jet black.
- I'll keep that in mind for our future dates.
- Is this a date?
- You are a palindrome.
- I'm a what?
- It's the name of a sequence that's exactly the same
backwards and forwards.
Anna, palindrome.
- (laughs) Huh?
- Let me show you.
(atmospheric rock music)
A-N-N-A.
See it's the same forwards and backwards.
Palindrome.
- Wow, that was fun.
- (laughs) Fuck off!
I'm educating you.
- You know, actually reminds me of a story I heard once.
Do you know a love story told backwards
always has a happy ending?
- Who said that?
- I don't actually remember.
Anyhow, have you ever had deja vu?
Like you've been here before?
(customers chattering)
âª For the very first time âª
(birds chirping)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(gasps)
(rotary dial clattering)
- [Fred] Come on, come on, come on.
(phone rings) - Hello?
- Anna?
- [Anna] Did you search for me on the net?
- No. - Why?
I asked you to.
I explicitly told you to search my name.
- I forgot.
- [Anna] How could you forget such an explicit instruction?
A person tells you that they're going to die
and ask you to search their name and you forget?
- I've had a lot going on.
I'm stubborn.
I'm stubborn, selfish person, I know this now.
I didn't know it before, but now I do.
I think I have to be this way.
I think so, anyway, but I'm here for you now.
- [Anna] Uh, correction, you're there, I'm here.
- Well tell me where you are.
I can still save you.
(dramatic orchestral music)
Anna?
Please, Anna, there's only two minutes left.
- [Ana] Go to the door.
(distorted whirring)
(wind whistling)
(dramatic music)
- Mary, no book?
- I guess I finally got to your level.
Too clever to learn new things.
(chuckles)
- I don't wanna get better.
I wanna remain crazy.
What if I forget you if I get better?
- Get better.
Whoever said you were crazy?
(dramatic orchestral music)
(water sloshes)
(gun pump clacks)
- Wisdom is better than weapons of war,
but one sinner destroyeth much good.
- I don't have any limitations.
- Hmm.
Mozart had to go to Vienna
to become what he wanted.
You merely have to shoot me.
(dramatic orchestral music)
Much better than going to fucking Vienna.
Those fucking Europeans.
Kill me and become your own person.
Find your freedom.
- This is what I am.
And that's okay.
I am destiny and perpetual repetition.
(gun fires)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(seagulls squawking) (waves crashing)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(bright music)
âª Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh âª
âª I wanna tell you something âª
âª It's on my mind âª
âª And I gotta tell you something âª
âª For the very first time âª
âª 'Cause I think I miss you, darling âª
âª I miss your smile âª
âª And I really miss you, darling âª
âª For the very first time âª
âª I step out in the morning âª
âª My face runs dry âª