NETFLIX PRESENTS
I'm being serious, my great-grandma had my grandad
in Hondarribia while sewing nets. -Wow.
The Basques know nothing. -Wow!
The Basques are cool. It'd be cool to go to Euskadi.
I'd like that, and to be greeted with an "aurresku."
Yes, an "aurresku." -A what?
You don't know what it is. -I do.
What is it? -A traditional dance.
From Euskadi. -At my grandad's baptism,
they dedicated one to him at the port where he was born.
That's so cool. -Lovely.
Come on! Go on! -Are you kidding?
I believe he was born outside.
They do those things in villages.
I don't know, they're crazy in mine.
I don't think women gave birth in the streets of your village.
No, dummy, but people do strange things.
Last year, they organised a funeral for a friend
and the guy was alive. -No way.
Alive? But how? -Yes, it was a normal party,
but someone played dead in a coffin.
Hold on. Was there a hole to bury him?
No, no, they didn't bury him.
He was just there in the coffin. -Wait, I like it.
We'll do it tomorrow. -For real?
I can get the coffin.
My house is free. It's Saturday.
It'd be nice on the terrace upstairs.
Okay, okay. Yes.
One issue. Who's playing dead?
No, don't even try. -No, that's creepy.
I have an idea. We have a dead guy.
Biel. -He won't want to, man.
No. -No? Let's bet on it.
Okay, come on.
Hey, hold on. Wait!
We have to invite the whole class,
have everyone bring food and drinks
and in return, whoever plays dead gets in free.
Well, okay.
Yeah! -Will you do it?
Slave, take me to Rome!
But it has to be controlled.
It'll be cool. -I'll do your makeup.
As a dead person? -I want humiliation.
Students, to class!
What are you doing? -They're crazy.
Come on, slave. Caesar is here!
You're here just in time to choose between two ways of seeing life.
Hedonists are on the left
and Kantians on the right.
MERLÍ: DARE TO KNOW
LIFE
High school children,
on my right, we have the Kantians:
people with puritan morals
convinced that happiness
is something we must earn through effort.
On my left, we have the hedonists:
people like Epicurus,
who refuse suffering
and believe a happy life
consists of enjoying the present.
I'm asking you to think out loud,
to doubt and, of course,
to switch groups if you need to.
What I'm asking is:
which one of the two paths
is the most direct one
for a fulfilled life?
Hedonism or Kantianism?
I'm certain of it.
Oh, you're certain. Let's hear it.
A hedonist life.
It allows us to enjoy pleasures more.
Because us Kantians are boring, right?
It's not about being boring.
You're more defined by not taking risks.
No, we're more open to improvising
and experiencing new things, without wasting time.
I see it and try it.
And that gives you a fulfilled life?
It's more about forging your own path
and not accepting what's given to you.
Exactly, what gives you authentic pleasure
is what we work for with sacrifice and effort.
How do you manage a life full of contingencies,
accidents and chance?
You have to learn to live with uncertainty.
More than living, coexisting.
We already do.
Who doesn't live with uncertainty?
No, you're so worried about building your future
that you forget to live here and now.
We could say your life is more boring.
You think my life is boring, Pol?
You're accusing us of being idealists and boring.
Yes, and I'd say you're naive.
We might be naive, but we don't have
a childish and ridiculous notion of pleasure.
Nan, I'm going to class. -Shush. Shut up!
"This award is also ours"?
Oh, the speech for your honorary award.
Not honorary. They're giving it to me for being old.
Nan, this phrase…
"Every time I step on a stage, I grow an inch as an actor."
Stay out of it. These awards are pure politics.
It's about looking good. Give it here.
Give it.
I could help you. -You?
You know nothing about the theatre world.
You're lucky. Leave.
You're distracting me.
Are you nervous?
A lot of people will go.
From my side,
the four enemies of mine
who are still alive will come.
And you? Will you go with your little pals?
Nan, don't call them little pals.
See you this afternoon.
What about Pol?
Won't you invite him?
You're mean to me.
Tell him to come.
Then I can tell everyone that he's my handsome grandson.
You think you're hedonists
because you like to party and fuck. That's it.
No, no! -Yes, yes!
You want to pass as authentic and deep,
but you end up watching life from the sidelines.
You think you enjoy life,
but you confuse a fulfilled life with a good life.
It has nothing to do…
Biel. Where are you going, man?
Well, he's right.
Now hold on. You ask
if I'm a hedonist. And I say yes. Why?
Because Epicurus had two keys I identify with.
First: avoid pain. Second: freedom from fear.
What are we doing here?
Isn't that what philosophy is for?
To know the world better in order
to free ourselves from suffering?
Listen up, what about death?
It's better not to think about it.
Yes, no need to suffer
thinking about when we'll die.
I don't know. It'll come and until then, let's enjoy.
What if someone dies then?
Well, that's different.
It's not nice, of course.
Is that how a hedonist sees death?
Does death disturb you?
Have you lost someone and has it hurt?
Yes, honestly.
I'll have you know,
a hedonist doesn't see death as traumatic.
Neither do I.
For Kantians, death is distressing.
It provokes an intimate pain process.
Remember,
the only forbidden phrase in this class is:
"I'm certain about it."
What's your deal?
What are you doing?
Don't pour more.
Look.
The renegade hedonist.
I'll go back to hedonism soon.
I promise.
Is the weekend looking promising?
Well,
there might be a party or two.
I don't want to know how those end.
I don't mean because of the drinks.
The drinks…
And…
You don't have many plans, right?
I'll go out with some friends.
What do you think?
That you're the only one who'll puke in a dark alley?
No, no. -Remember,
"the night is young" is a fallacy.
The night is old and sleazy.
I'll be careful.
All students say that,
but on Mondays,
I see nothing but baggy eyes and hickeys.
Awesome. Thank you.
You're lucky, there was only one left.
"Meditations." Yes, this is the one.
Hey!
How studious. -Bruno.
What are you doing here?
Minerva, Bruno.
Hello. -Hello.
Pleased to meet you.
I'll get back to work.
Come to our party if you want.
Tell him, Pol.
A party?
Come, if you want. No problem.
Tomorrow, at her house.
I can't, man.
I came to invite you to my nan's award event.
Is that tomorrow? -Here in the auditorium.
It would be cool, but…
Relax, your thing is more fun.
Plus, you have to take advantage.
Your lover must be at the party.
Shut up. I can't deal, Bruno.
I can't deal with it. Rai makes me horny.
The guy is so delicate,
I don't know if he's being subtle or what.
He makes me hard.
I can't focus in class, man.
I came here to study philosophy. I feel good around him.
Right.
He smiles and you think he's interested.
And when he talks to others, you get jealous.
I know that all too well.
But it worked for you.
Maybe tomorrow will be the party of surprises.
I'll flirt with him tomorrow
and if there's nothing there…
At least you'll have Bruno.
The diploma.
Are you trying to guilt me?
Me? Not at all.
Look at him. Look at him, look.
My nan will miss you, just so you know.
Don't make me soft, Bruno.
Since when do I make you soft?
No, man, no. I was never told that.
I know, I know,
it's not your fault.
But I'm very upset with your company
and I'm going to vent to you.
Dammit, he hung up!
What are you laughing at, brat?
The kitchen robot we bought with Gloria
isn't working and I can't ask for a refund.
Go to the store.
I bought it online, but never again.
I assume you won't stay for dinner with us.
No, I have a party.
Oh, okay.
Now I understand.
You've been hanging there like a possum
for half an hour to warm up your muscles.
Look, your girlfriend is calling.
What are you talking about? It's Rai.
What's up, man? -Dude…
I have bad news.
Biel has died.
No way!
A heart attack.
A sudden death, you know?
The burial is today.
You'll help me with the coffin.
Okay, but do you have it?
Not yet.
They'll bring it at seven.
At eight, Rai. -At eight.
You have to help, because we can't drive
Henry's van through the Gothic quarter.
Don't tell me we're carrying it down the street!
Coffin? What are you talking about, kid?
Do you want to see Biel in it or not?
Are you crazy?
How can I say this in front of everyone?
Your speech isn't personal.
I like this one too.
Did you write it or is it from a film?
Nan, you're making things up.
Sorry, but you're not well.
I'm not a kamikaze.
I can't make a scene like this in front of everyone.
They'll think I'm insane.
You've done worse.
Yes, and I haven't explained it.
As you wish.
I don't like the dress.
So your goal is to ruin my night.
It's not you. I don't like it, Nan.
You're younger.
Yes, to know my age, you need Carbon-14.
See?
You have a spark, you laugh at yourself.
Why did you write a speech that's so…
So what? Say it.
So bland. -Enough.
You're sabotaging an honorary award.
If I'd known, I wouldn't have invited you.
I'll dress how I like
and do the speech I prepared
because I don't make scenes.
I'm not like your father.
Fuck it!
Your father was like me.
You'll get me something from the shop, right?
Yes, of course.
The Olympic T-shirt
and a gold medal, as long as we're shopping.
One ticket.
I'll get in with a teacher ID.
Oh.
I left it in my other purse.
Then you'll need two tickets.
Six euros total. -Come on.
You're joking, right?
Sorry. I can't if you don't have the ID.
Look,
I'm telling you my ID is at home.
I could look for it, but it's a pain.
Mom. -Shut up.
Look.
I'm a professor.
What should I explain?
Leibniz's monads?
If there's any doubt,
I'll give a masterclass on monads.
Please. -Look, we're going to spend money.
Don't worry, we'll go through the shop.
If you don't want us to enjoy the museum, we'll leave.
Come on, Laura. -No need.
Your free ticket for being a teacher.
Three euros for the other one.
Put it on my card.
Why do you argue so much?
What's wrong? Ashamed of me?
What about you when you sing?
You also sing.
Yes, but I sing well. Come on.
Go inside, I'm going to the toilet.
Okay, let's go.
Laura, sweetie.
What's wrong? Are you okay?
I sing well.
Is that it?
Yes, of course, you sing very well.
But you told me I didn't. -I said you…?
I don't know, it must have slipped.
Yes, sweetie, you sing very well.
With your own style, well.
I'll let you choose the film tonight if you want.
Okay, but I sing well.
Yes, you sing well.
Minerva!
I know it's too early, but I don't know which tie to wear.
Which do you prefer for the next life?
Let's see those ties.
This was one is more subtle. -Okay.
The suit is in the bag, should I put it on?
No, you and I are going to my room first.
Oh!
To do your makeup.
My condolences.
Oh, no, no. I'm pleased to be dying.
Man, this is heavy!
What's inside?
Orange juice, lemonade, water…
Everyone is staring.
I like them staring.
Sorry. Watch out. -Honestly…
Sorry, sorry!
Excuse me! -Beep, beep!
Sorry!
Here, here!
Here we go!
Let's have another shot before Biel dies.
Hello, Pol. Hi, Ettiene, how are you?
Ready to cry?
No, tough men like me don't cry.
Right.
Biel!
Coming! How annoying.
Yes, let's go.
You've eaten mandarins.
Yes, does it bother you?
No, no. Not at all!
Okay, perfect.
Well?
Well? Do I look good?
Or do I look like a Halloween zombie?
No, you're a dead guy from high society.
Shall we go?
Come on.
Guys, Biel has died.
He looks like a banker! -Handsome.
What do you think? Not bad, huh?
It's very good! -It's my dad's.
Coming!
What? -A toast to Biel!
Okay, wait!
Minerva, Biel… -Get in.
I have to go in here? -Of course.
Don't back out now. Get in!
No, no. Okay, but… -Hold on!
Were you toasting without me or what?
I brought a cake that says "Latin America", Amy.
And a condolences book
for whoever wants to write to the dead.
Wow!
This will fill up in two minutes.
I want to have a shot. Come on, Rai!
Coming, coming! -You're a friend.
You can't move for at least an hour, okay?
Okay, guys. It's been nice knowing you.
And you've been nice classmates.
I'll leave happy with my life.
It's full.
Yes, full, but no one is checking on me.
They've left us alone here.
Typical of this country. No love for artists.
The taxi we took was comfortable.
Yes, and the driver didn't talk.
But we had to pay him ourselves.
In Madrid, I'd have a chauffeur at the door
and they'd have two flasks inside:
one with coffee and one with soup in case I'm cold.
They treat you like a queen.
They could've given it to me there.
Don't lie, you wouldn't even try the soup.
No, but you know what you have.
Aren't you nervous?
No, not at all.
I'll just go out there, read the speech…
Fucking hell!
If you're nervous, you'll do better.
You want to kill me? -Trust me.
Are you nuts? -You're the great Calduch.
You know what to say straight to an audience,
you don't need text.
You'll do well because you're my father's mother.
Okay.
He looks so handsome.
He was a heartless hedonist.
Look at him.
Cold and pale.
All because he converted to puritanism.
That's how it went.
Pass me a beer.
He was a generous guy.
You didn't have to ask him for his notes.
Let's not kid ourselves,
he was stingy.
He was after me for weeks to get back four sheets of paper.
Four! -He was a great student.
Good grades and scholarships.
And he was the sweetest student at uni.
THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME BE WITH YOU
I DIDN'T KNOW YOU, BUT YOU'RE A NICE PERSON
TELL NIETO I SAY HI
To us!
Fuck, it wasn't like that.
In the village, we leaned the coffin against the wall
and stuck it with duct tape.
Who is this guy? -I don't know.
Haven't you told them?
It doesn't matter, we did it like this.
But it's cooler like a vampire, right?
This is Arnau, my boyfriend.
Holy shit! -You didn't tell me you had one.
I've come to terms with it. It's been three years.
Damn. I'm Pol.
Pleased to meet you. -Hey, Pol.
Rai.
I study Maths, maybe you've seen me around.
No. -Don't give them maths talk. Come.
The philosophy talk…
Honestly, I'm happy.
Because I'm receiving this award
from the people in my craft.
Today, you,
by giving me this award, are making me retire.
But who told you
that I want to stop working?
This award is very lovely,
but you can keep it.
Therefore, with all the love in my heart,
producers, theatre owners,
directors, don't kill me.
God.
I want to continue stepping on stages.
And don't tell me
there are no female protagonists.
Change the gender and that's it.
I can be Molière's "The Miser",
"The Misanthrope", "Queen Lear"…
You can dress me as "Tiresias."
I can transform into a lake.
But never forget
that I'm Calduch
and I want to continue to thrill you and myself.
Thank you!
Families of murdered people want the death penalty
and it's their right.
Isn't a life sentence enough?
It's worse: a slow death.
It's better to be fast.
A life sentence has too much public cost.
And the death penalty is free?
You go to sleep!
When we talk about money, the fucker wakes up.
Europeans are more intelligent than Americans, Amy.
In France, they invented the guillotine.
In Germany, the Holocaust.
In Spain, you kill bulls.
We should get Biel out and put her in the coffin.
Thank you.
Here, don't get dehydrated.
Okay, guys, let's continue on the terrace.
Yes.
Water. -Finally.
Stop, you're hurting me. Jesus!
I like you so much. You're my idol.
What's up, guys?
You're weird. They're crazy.
Laura, are you okay? -Are you?
What are the monads?
It's very complicated.
Philosophy things…
You never explain
anything about philosophy.
Won't I understand?
It's very complicated, sweetie.
Even for the students.
Everyone hates Leibniz's monads.
Didn't you go to the wrong class the first day?
You went to Maths.
Yes. It was Biel's fault.
What a mess. Hilarious.
The party is fucking cool!
Yes, yes.
All thanks to Oti, you and your rural knowledge.
Oti, come!
Come, Oti, look. -What's up?
We have to thank you for such a macabre idea.
The party is really weird.
That's why I love it.
That's awesome, man.
I'm glad you're taking it well
since your dad died not long ago.
Oti…
What's your deal?
I meant it as a good thing.
What? Did someone you know die too?
Okay, it's no big deal.
It is a big deal. You're a bit untimely.
Pol, don't react like that.
Rai, I said it with admiration.
Because I know your dad died.
Oti, I want to introduce you…
Don't get upset, she wasn't thinking.
Yes, like the day she flirted with me.
No way! -Yes.
Now you see her with the Maths guy,
but she was all over me,
touching my pecs, my arms…
Damn, she likes going hard, right?
There isn't much whiskey left.
Shall we share?
Okay, sure, yes. Wait.
With a straw, it hits harder.
Yes? -Okay, yes.
Together. -Come on.
One, two…
and three.
Yeah!
We don't know what your last wishes were,
but you drank
through a straw with your friend Pol.
I don't want you to die, Rai.
Come on, wake up, man.
Don't die, please.
What's happening here?
You like dudes?
What's that? What is it?
What are you saying? Dummy.
Does…
bisexuality really exist?
Go to hell, Rai.
Seriously, have you been with other guys?
You hadn't told me.
Dude, what a burn.
Ettiene is gay.
I can't stop fucking up, man.
First with Rai,
and now with the French guy.
I shouldn't have done it.
Relax.
Pol.
Are you still hungover?
What do you want?
Come on, you've slept enough.
You spent all Sunday in bed.
Laura.
Mum. -Have you told your dad I drink?
I'm fed up with you.
I'm working.
Stop for a moment, I'm your mother.
Come.
Just so you know,
thanks to your little number,
we won't be able to see each other.
Is that what you want?
To never see me again?
They're saying our visits are over.
All because you found some hidden bottles?
Of course I hide them.
When you find them, you empty them.
Tell me, what do I offer my guests?
I saw lots of bottles.
Of course, Laura,
a lot of bottles, a lot of guests.
Because I have my social life.
I can have guests whenever I want, right?
Did you want to move in with Victor?
Forget about it,
because your cretin father opposes it.
He hasn't had the patience or understanding
I've had with you since you were born.
Enough, Mum. -Yes, yes.
I'll stop.
Have a good one.
Don't make it worse now.
If you tell him I've told you off,
you won't see me in 20 years.
God!
Do you see this woman?
The flower neighbour.
She has no one.
There must be someone.
No way. No one visits her.
Her phone doesn't ring.
She's alone.
I know that feeling very well.
What? You've never been alone like that lady.
True.
But I know what it feels like
when something important is gone.
We both know.
I got a six in Logic.
Congratulate me, no?
Congrats! -I got a seven.
I've been looking for Wi-Fi for a while
and I can't access the virtual campus.
Here, mine is open.
Oh, thank you. -Congratulations, Pol.
Rai, what did you get? -A six and a half.
A three? No, no, it can't be.
No, shit! No. -Relax, Biel.
Go to the exam revision. I'm going.
Have you failed too?
No, I got a seven.
A seven? You?
Yes, I got a seven. You got a three.
So what? -Dammit, okay.
I'm good at logic!
No!
"Causa sui":
cause of itself.
It's paradoxical: the uncaused thing.
A substance not caused by anyone,
but its effect is its own causality.
As Baruch Spinoza wrote in
"On the Improvement of the Understanding",
you can buy it or get it in the library.
The second proposition says:
"Two substances that have different attributes
have nothing in common."
"If they have nothing in common,
then, by the fifth axiom,
they can't understand each other."
"Therefore, by the fourth axiom,
one can't be the cause of the other."
"Quod erat demostrandum."
Don't you think we're all a bit hedonist and Kantian?
You've caught me red-handed.
It's my fault,
I encourage you to know thyself. Sit.
Is it just me or are you having a crisis?
Oh look, a hickey.
Fuck.
You remind me more and more…
I told you I had a teacher…
That you admired so much.
What was his name?
Merlí.
Was he a magician?
More or less.
Have you come for me to teach you a trick?
How can someone escape pain when it's always present in life?
How do you avoid the search for pleasure?
Do we have to satisfy all our desires?
Reflecting can save us
from the anguish of not having what we want.
It seems like we're both having a crisis.
No…
I don't have crises,
I provoke them.
If you're depressed, hang on, there are curves ahead.
You're young, I'm warning you.
It will get worse.
Philosophy helps us face the pain.
Physical pain,
the pain of disease,
but also the pain of not having the life we want.
I'm afraid philosophy doesn't even comfort us in those cases.
We have to satisfy our desires,
we have to give the body what it craves
and not fill it with concepts
that are powerless against the strength of feelings.
What we want aren't notions like
the monad or the "res cogitans."
What we want is to eat, to sleep,
to drink and to fuck.