NOVEMBER
Alfredo.
November was Alfredo.
Whenever I ask myself
that question,
it's the only answer
I can think of.
November was Alfredo.
MADRlD, SEPTEMBER 1997
Is this where the auditions are?
-Yes. Are you lmanol Astiarraga?
-No, why?
His name just got called.
I thought maybe it was you.
I think my audition's at five,
but I'm not sure.
Ask the lady.
She should be right out.
-You're the only person here?
-No...
I met him in the hallway
at acting school.
Just before our entry auditions.
I remember perfectly
because he caught my eye.
He had a black knapsack
over his shoulder
with some sort of bizarre
marionette sticking out.
He looked pretty odd.
-Where are you from?
-Murcia.
A small town in Murcia
called Lorca.
-And you live here?
-No, I just came to audition.
I said he could stay with us.
You guys are squatters, right?
In a home?
Not a home,
an abandoned building.
-We want to open a cultural center.
-With recreation.
Social services, painting...
A bit of everything.
It was an old abandoned building
near Lavapies.
It had previously been a printer's.
Daniel, the group and l
all moved in there in '96.
A year before Alfredo
got to Madrid.
-It's darling.
-Yeah, wait.
Careful. I'd better show you.
Right, the stick moves it.
And with this
you move the neck
and with this, the eyes.
And with this, the mouth.
Where'd you get it?
I made it.
-Alfredo...
-What?
What are these assholes
Iooking at?
I think I found a place
to sleep tonight.
So tell me, how's Madrid?
Madrid?
It's enormous, mom. Huge.
How's dad?
So-so.
He'll get over it.
Say hi for me.
And to Alejandro.
Have you auditioned yet?
Not yet, mine's at five.
Call me when you've finished.
What?
It's crowded.
I can barely hear you.
-Call me when you've finished.
-I will, don't worry.
I'm out of coins, mom.
I'll call you when I find a place.
Mom...
I love you guys a lot.
Big kiss.
We love you, too.
He'd made it for his brother
in a puppet-making class
he took while he was in law school.
Her name was Aphrodite.
He was quite fond of her.
He even said that
if it hadn't been for his brother
and that marionette,
he'd never have gone into theater.
Yes!
Yes!
Holy shit. Goddamn.
Yes.
He left it all behind.
Family, friends... He was plagued
by guilt for a long time
for having left Alejandro.
But he was absolutely
thrilled to be in Madrid.
Back then, Alicia and l
were living in the building
and I invited him to move in.
Alfredo!
Alfredo!
Alfredo!
Yes, you can. Please, tell me.
-What for? It'd make no difference.
-Yes, it would.
It can't be so bad.
Maybe if you told me you'd realize
it's not as bad as you think.
Okay, just once.
-Just one time.
-No, that's enough.
-Roll a joint.
-Okay.
Tell me, Juan.
You've got to tell me.
You can't keep it inside forever.
Let it out, my love.
I'll roll that joint.
-ln Argentinian.
-No.
-Peruvian.
-No.
-English.
-No way.
Japanese?
Over my dead body.
Another joint?
Okay.
Can you help us out?
-Here, Alfredo.
-Thanks.
Okay, here's the take.
Alfredo, that's your share.
That's not necessary.
-Go on, take it.
-No.
You guys keep it.
The other day you said no as well.
Quit fucking around, just take it.
That's not why I do it.
I don't want it.
I enjoy doing it.
Fuck the money.
That's irrelevant.
I enjoy it, too.
So why not get paid for it?
Here.
Keep your damn money, Dani.
I don't want it now, or ever.
-Are you kidding me?
-Pay him.
He is joking.
No, I'm not.
I really don't want the money.
Is that so hard to understand?
So your motivation is
love of art?
No, I just think
it's the only way.
Taking money in the end
means selling out.
Is that what you'll say
if you get offered an acting job?
-You "enjoy" it?
-I don't want to be a paid actor.
Then why the hell are you here?
I told you. To start an independent
theater company. Free street shows.
That's why I'm here.
Tell me, Juan.
You've got to tell me.
You can't keep it inside forever.
Let it out, darling.
Tell me what happened.
Please, tell me.
I can't.
Yes, you can.
Yes, you can.
Yes, you can.
It can't be that bad. Maybe if
you told me you'd realize...
I can't.
Yes...
I can't.
Alfredo.
Has anything ever happened to you
that you're ashamed to tell?
What? I couldn't hear you.
Something... unmentionable.
Something you've never told anyone.
Unmentionable?
I don't think so.
We all have some dark secret.
Surely you do as well.
There is one thing,
but I'd rather forget it.
There is? Tell us about it.
I was just a kid at the time.
No matter. Go on.
Well, the people who raised me
aren't my biological parents.
I was adopted.
Go on.
My parents died in a car crash
when I was six.
That's not a secret.
I imagine your friends knew,
the people around you...
Nobody knows.
I've never told anyone.
Why?
Why mention it now?
Why hide it?
I don't know. I always have.
I've never known why,
I just do.
Do you remember
when your parents died?
You don't remember.
What's wrong, Alfredo?
Nothing, I can't.
Yes, you can.
I can't.
Yes, you can.
Lucia... your line.
Tell me, Juan.
You've got to tell me.
You can't keep it inside forever.
You have to tell me, my love.
You have to let it out.
I can't.
Now that's believable.
That's what I mean.
I can't get up in front of people.
Christ, Dani.
Juggling's one thing,
but monologues...
You might get laughed at,
that's all.
That's all?
That's the point.
Bullshit. They're supposed to laugh
with us, not at us.
Fine, just drop it.
It's harmless, but fine.
Another beer?
Okay.
I still refuse.
Paco.
Can I have a beer, please?
-Here.
-Thanks.
I won't do it.
Stop worrying, Dani.
Nothing will happen, okay?
That's that.
What?
-Were you there?
-Where?
The day your parents got killed.
You were there, right?
-Why do you ask?
-I don't know.
I was thinking,
it's hard to believe.
I always thought I had rotten luck,
but some people have even worse.
Dani, I was lying.
Bullshit.
It was all a lie.
None of what I said was true.
I made up the whole story.
No shit.
I swear.
What?
I don't believe you.
What a bastard!
Excuse me.
You did that scene
with Lucia, right?
Yeah, that's me.
Congratulations. I hadn't seen
anything that good in ages.
That's all I have to say.
-Thanks.
-Bye.
Of course I heard about it.
The entire school did.
In just a few days' time,
from poor orphan to total jerk.
Is acting not an exercise
in bringing credibility to fiction?
Well, he did exactly that.
And in such a way
that everyone fell for it
as if it were absolutely true.
Of course, perfectly.
I remember it perfectly.
I had a scene prepared,
but he was asked up instead.
Yuta was near the stage.
He called on Alfredo, who seemed
a bit uneasy. He went on stage
and sat on one of those crates
we used to use as props.
And Yuta said...
Alfredo.
-Why are you here?
-What?
What for?
Why acting school?
What's your aim?
Me?
To study.
To study what?
Acting.
Why?
What do you mean?
Why acting?
You must have a reason.
Or was it just either this
-or computers?
-Because I enjoy it.
What do you enjoy?
-Acting. I enjoy acting.
-Sure.
Tell me...
What do you think
is the point of acting?
I don't know.
Sometimes it seems like
there isn't one.
But you think there should be,
right?
Yes.
Self-improvement, at least.
To make us more self-conscious,
I guess.
You don't give a fuck
about that.
What?
You heard me.
You don't give a fuck about
improving yourself.
You're worried about other things.
That's your problem.
What the hell is this about?
The other day you humiliated me.
Me...
and everyone else.
You lied to us all,
telling us that fable
about your life. Look,
we're not your marionettes.
People come here
to commit themselves.
They reveal fucked-up things
about themselves.
Horrible things.
They take risks.
But not you.
And on top of that,
you ridicule us?
You're a scumbag.
You respect nothing and no one.
Get off that stage.
Get down.
That's not true.
It isn't?
Which part isn't true?
I wasn't ridiculing anyone.
Well, I think you were.
It's the only reason you came.
You're wrong.
Then why are you here?
Are you going to answer?
You know why acting?
Actually, I'm extremely interested
in finding out why you're here.
I'll tell you why.
To do something for me
and for others.
Acting,
because it's a form of human
communication, a way to reach
understanding and comprehension.
That's why.
-So you want to change the world.
-That's right.
I'd love to change
this fucked-up world.
And I think there's still time.
Alfredo!
Alfredo...
Wait.
Where are you going?
I don't know.
Anywhere but here,
that's for sure.
Come back inside.
They're all waiting for you.
No. I'm leaving.
You'll get kicked out.
I don't care. I could care less.
Fine.
But don't be upset.
-Are you going home?
-Yeah.
I'll go with you.
Let me get my things.
I'd like to change the world, too,
you know.
I'd love to change
this fucked-up world!
I hate having the audience
just sitting there,
unable to participate or interact.
It reminds me of him.
They should do something, anything.
They just sit there, like statues.
I want to see people respond.
I don't know, somehow.
How strange.
What?
I always liked theater
for just the opposite.
Why?
Because I hated my sister.
I wanted to be different from her.
I wanted to feel special,
unique.
When we were little
she was better at everything.
My parents always said
she was prettier, smarter...
And I hated her.
I hated her guts.
-You should come with Daniel and me.
-Where?
- When we act in the streets.
-ln the streets?
-No way, not me.
-Why not?
Because.
In the street? No way.
In a theater, or a movie...
Even on TV, which I hate.
But in the street?
No.
In a theater but not in the street?
-It's different.
-Why?
In the street anything can happen.
People react in unexpected ways.
In a theater,
the audience knows you're acting.
It's less unpredictable.
That's the whole point
to acting in the streets!
The same people always see plays.
The only way to reach everyone else
is to take the show
to the streets.
Well, l' ll see.
I' m quitting school.
What?
I quit. I'm not going back.
Table 10 still needs clearing.
This guy is clueless.
Orders for table 9 and 10.
Is table 13's food ready yet?
Are these mine?
Three coffees,
one whisky shot, two with cognac.
Sergio, I need the veal
and that pasta for table 4.
Sergio, for the love of God.
I need the desserts for 13.
Thanks.
What's up, Alfredo?
Who are you?
I left right after you did.
I was sick of it. All that damn
psycho-analysis.
They said my problem was
I confused ego with self-esteem.
So I quit.
I'd put up with enough.
It wasn't acting, it was some
kind of self-help, or group therapy.
Anything but acting.
It was an insane asylum.
No wonder people go nuts.
I'm much better off in the street.
So am l.
By the way, Dani and I are doing
a little street show.
It's unreal.
People are really amazed.
I did theater at university.
There's no comparison.
I love acting in the streets so
much... you won't believe this...
but sometimes I get a hard on.
-No way.
-I'm serious.
I get hard as a rock.
You know what happens to me?
What?
I shouldn't say this...
Tell me.
Hey, who cares.
I get like this tingly feeling
in my ass right before...
Bullshit.
I swear.
Nerves, probably.
Because it's right before.
It fades once I get going.
Unbelievable.
There was no trick to it.
Well, there was, sort of.
I had a friend who lived upstairs.
This guy named Pablo, actually.
That was the trick.
I'd hang the chair from his place.
We went out drinking.
We hit every bar in the area.
Discussing heaven and earth,
as they say.
We stayed out until
ten the next morning,
ending up sloshed in some bar
in Lavapies.
It was the start of a great
friendship and of everything else.
Not only the first shows,
but also what would later become
the November company.
"THE HOT LADY"
MAY 1988
It was miraculous.
It really worked.
What we did, and how we did it,
really made us feel special.
Especially asking for nothing
in exchange.
That was unthinkable back then,
when nothing was free.
No explanation was necessary.
People came up with their own.
They came up with much more
interesting stuff than I could have.
Most people,
when we refused their money,
were baffled.
They didn't understand.
They were little skits,
in most cases without any plot.
Just simple improvisation.
Provocative situations
where the key
was spontaneity.
The first time, very nervous.
I can't explain it.
It was so exciting...
Especially right before.
" HAPPY PUNKS"
JUNE 1998
Good morning.
Don't be alarmed.
Hey, you all look scared.
You think we want money?
Are we thieves? Beggars?
You think we're hooligans, right?
Wrong!
You're all very mistaken.
We don't want money!
We hate money.
Right, kids?
We're here today for
a more human cause.
A much nobler,
more revealing cause,
much wiser than cash!
We have a gift for all of you.
That's right!
We'll put an end to your misery!
An end to your suffering!
An end to your pain, baby!
Get with it!
You can't just get up every morning
Iike zombies. Look at you.
Sleepwalking to the same office...
You need a gift, right?
Something different, something
to lift your spirits,
to make you feel alive,
to make you feel young again,
happy,
Iucky,
free.
That's why we're here.
To bring you something pure
and radically different
every morning.
Let's go, punkies.
Cool.
We are the best.
Shit, not again!
You're shitty at this.
We have Lucia, Alicia, Helena...
Three at least.
And lmanol.
How about it, Vanesa?
Anything for a buck.
What do you mean?
I could use the cash.
Not a penny.
No thanks.
How can you be so cheap?
We're not making a dime...
The November Manifesto?
We had several principles.
The first was to create a free,
independent theater.
The second was to avoid all forms
of both public and private aid.
No closed premises
where entry could be limited.
-What will you call it?
-November.
-What?
-November.
Could you pass the water?
All established acting methods
were prohibited.
How about October?
It's more revolutionary.
The November revolution came after.
I dream of changing the world...
Right, Alfredo?
-Bitch.
-The Fifth Commandment,
as Alfredo described it,
was "the law of Mohammed",
which meant we had to go wherever
the audience was.
That damn Seventh Commandment!
The Seventh Commandment
prohibited anyone from joining
who had in any way been involved
in film or TV.
Can't feed off the wind,
my diet's pretty thin.
But I can say my piece
without money.
I can't remember.
Well, I don't know.
I don't remember any manifesto,
I swear.
It's the first I've heard of it.
When I joined...
What? Are you pulling my leg?
The creation of original material,
with adaption of all existing text
strictly forbidden.
And the Tenth, and final:
to never betray the Manifesto
under any circumstances.
I don't want to bring misfortune...
I swear, when I joined the group
I never signed any manifesto.
Hell, I didn't even want
to be an actor.
I went because they had asked
to use my dad's van and...
They sure made a mess of that.
Juan, let's go!
Revolutions waiting to happen,
dreaming of changing the world.
Come on, here we go!
-Hey, wait for Juan.
-Juan!
All set?
Stilts, strollers, baby bottles,
balloons... I think so.
Let's get this damn show
on the road.
That way!
Over there!
That way!
"THE DEVlL'S CHERUBlM"
AUGUST 1998
What are you doing up there?
You didn't ask my permission
to go in the ice cream shop.
Give me permission, bitch!
Come again?
They're giving us free ice cream.
Coconut.
You want coconut?
The freedom to improvise
ignited our imagination.
It gave us
a release that would have been
otherwise impossible.
Where's your mommy?
Have you seen her?
Upstairs?
He's not usually such an angel.
Not like today.
It's really all his mother's fault.
Where are you going with that?
I'm gonna spank your butt!
This is a goddamn circus.
This is getting out of hand.
Those spoiled little brats.
Calm down!
Don't do that.
Come on.
Freak!
To the baby strollers!
They never do this.
-Just look at them.
-Adorable.
A tse-tse fly must have bit them.
-They're out cold, darling.
-Bitten by tse-tse flies.
MlME FROM CORDOBA
I HAVE 4 KlDS, PLEASE HELP
Need a light?
There's more where that came from.
I'm sorry, but the show's over.
Let me see some l.D.
Ask your friends for theirs, too.
You haven't got a permit.
Satan!
Satan!
Satan!
-Hands off!
-Calm down.
He wasn't doing anything.
Let him go!
Everybody calm down!
You need a permit, that's all.
-We need a permit?
-It's no big deal.
You don't have a permit.
Calm down.
Hey, you handle this. Make sure
they get their stuff
and clear on out of here.
Make way!
Next time request a permit.
Tell your friend he can't go around
grabbing hats off policemen.
He'll get his ass kicked.
Shit.
How long before
we get our stuff back?
About a month.
Well that really fucking sucks.
I can't believe it.
Believe it, choirboy.
What the fuck are you staring at?
-He was staring at me.
-So what?
-You got a problem?
-Yeah.
Quit fucking staring.
Would you shut up?
What are you staring at?
You, retard.
This way, Ramon.
Are you starting trouble already?
I didn't do anything.
Stop being a punk and get in here.
Most of the stuff isn't even ours.
I understand,
but there's nothing I can do.
Sure there is.
Do this and you
-leave us bare.
-You already are.
You have no right.
It's our stuff.
I told you, my hands are tied.
Look.
If I could help, I swear I would.
I could care less about
-you kids acting in the street.
-But...?
But the law is the law.
No permit,
no show, wherever you are.
And you must always carry l.D.
Tell me your name.
Your name!
Alfredo Baeza.
With a " B".
How do I tell Eusebio
that his stilts
are gone for a whole month?
If they give them back.
We might never see them again.
Really?
They can't do that.
-How do you know?
-What a drag.
We should pay a fine, period.
Those bastards. They have
no right to keep our stuff.
There's no way.
I have to return the wigs and suits
to the school.
Come on, it's no big deal.
-Not at all.
-What now?
We're screwed.
What can we do?
Come on, it's okay.
We'll do something else.
-Like what?
-We'll come up with something.
Sure, we're all in such
a creative mood...
We have to do another show.
-Have you got any ideas?
-ldeas?
My head is fucking full of them!
I just have to pick one, that's all.
So...
Let's go.
Well, my mind's a total blank.
Our first show
and we get arrested.
And all our props get confiscated.
As you can imagine,
it didn't look promising.
We'd thought of everything
except the permit.
What mattered was getting out there
and doing something.
So they wanted to play rough,
did they?
"THE FORGOTTEN"
NOVEMBER 1998
November is a tight group...
of desperate actors.
They may not have a dime,
but they feel oh, so...
oh, so...
oh, so very well-paid.
Help me!
Help me!
I' m hungry!
What a cutie!
Can I borrow your cell
to call home?
Have you got a cell phone?
Have you got one?
Here, use this to call.
Thank you.
We're in the same boat.
Good afternoon.
Have you a free moment?
Get off me!
-Don't fucking touch me!
-Asshole.
Asshole yourself!
We had to live inside
the very skin of each character,
in a realistic way,
with the street as our stage.
When we came up with the idea
to break with
mainstream acting methods
and interpret characters
whose credibility could be
measured in a real situation,
that's when we realized
how far we could go with it.
Alicia played the junkie.
Lucia played a Romanian gypsy,
and Alfredo,
the gypsy patriarch.
Imanol played the bum.
Helena and Pedro played
the battered wife
and the blind man.
And beyond that,
we went from popular,
holiday-style theater
to a more social style of theater,
more critical.
It was much harsher,
more aggressive.
It was the start of,
though we were unaware at the time,
of what we later came to call
"Documentary Theater. "
We were all...
This I realized later...
We had become a reflection
of Alfredo's brother.
That's what it boils down to.
We were a reflection of Alejandro.
You can't say
you weren't begging this time.
It's part of the act.
They were playing beggars.
Go on, sit.
-Just part of the script, right?
-Yes.
More or less.
You've got some nerve, kid.
You made this all up to make a buck
without getting in trouble.
Unbelievable.
What?
-That you think so.
-lt wouldn't surprise me.
Isn't there somewhere else
you can go and act?
This is the best area.
We can't do this
out in the desert.
No cash to be made.
It's not about the cash!
You know what we planned to do
-with the money?
-Don't tell me. Give it to the poor.
How did you know?
Come on.
Cut the crap already.
You don't believe me.
No, I don't.
In any case,
it still wouldn't make
any difference.
What was your name?
Alfredo Baeza.
-With a " B"...
-I got it.
What next?
You know the routine.
Thank you.
-What about the wheelchair?
-Next month.
Okay.
For the poor, eh?
I swear to God.
You're crazier than I thought.
It was frustrating,
you know? A pain in the ass.
All our effort
would disappear in a second.
It left an empty feeling inside.
Above all,
a profound sense of impotence.
I don't know, as if...
we were literally stunned.
Stilts, diapers, bedding,
sheets, a microphone...
What's the use?
With a little cash
we could cover our expenses.
Some stilts and a few rags?
Is that the price of our dignity?
We said we wouldn't turn back.
We need ideas.
That's not all they took from us.
There's more.
The strollers took forever to make.
Manu's wigs,
-Pablo's chair, lots of stuff.
-All that is trivial.
Sure, none of it was yours.
Juan...
It's the truth.
Let's not get into whose is what,
okay smart-ass?
Take a look around you.
It's not an issue.
People contributed
whatever they could.
We all knew nobody was getting paid.
If we're throwing away
our principles,
to hell with it.
Making a profit is one thing,
paying expenses is another, Dani.
We'd end up doing commercial
theater, just like everyone else.
This was supposed to be different.
Dani, nobody's proposing that.
No, but this is how it all begins.
You know what we should do?
We should steal
-our stuff back.
-From the cops? Yeah, right.
Well, maybe not.
There must be a way.
Unless someone's got a better idea,
I say we move on.
-Juan, you remember Marble?
-Sure I do.
Didn't he study acting at one of
-our workshops?
-He's still at the Royal Theater?
Sure, he had a contract.
He said he hated it,
but he's still there. Why?
Well, he said to call him
if we needed anything.
So?
We'll rob the Royal Theater
instead of the cops.
How many people fit in here?
Well, 700 seats...
plus the boxes... 1,200.
Can you imagine acting here
with a full house?
It must be amazing.
I'd shit myself.
I couldn't go through with it.
Wait, keep quiet a second.
-What?
-Be quiet. Dani, hold still.
It's unreal, isn't it?
Yeah, but I prefer the streets.
Marble was a stage director
at the Royal Theater
and a big fan
of independent theater.
He directed "The Fleas",
who worked small playhouses
in Madrid back in the nineties.
His job gave him time for the group,
but he was ready to move on.
He used to give us all the gossip
about the Royal Theater.
Like the initial budget
for renovation,
and how it ended up costing
seven times that.
He hated their policies.
He said disgraceful sums of money
were going to only a few people.
He said we could have
anything we wanted,
that it was ours for the taking,
because somehow we'd earned it and
we couldn't steal from ourselves.
So it's actually
yours for the taking.
It's better off with you
than rotting here.
-We can take anything we want?
-Sure. Help yourselves.
This, too?
" KlNG AND EXECUTlONER"
APRlL 1999
" NUCLEAR WAR"
MAY 1999
"THE FUCKlNG TV"
JUNE 1999
"THE SlXTlES ARE YOURS"
JULY 1999
"LUNCHTlME"
AUGUST 1999
"RED SUMMER WlNE"
SEPTEMBER 1999
Watch it.
Can we go now?
Wait, I want to see something.
What's so funny?
I can't say.
Why not?
Because. I'll tell you later.
Look at the painting.
Come on, tell me.
No!
Asshole.
Airhead.
You fucking faggot.
Bitch.
You filthy swine.
Scum-sucking son of a bitch.
You nasty whore. I hope some pig
rapes you dry and infects you
with fleas and ticks.
You cocksucker. I hope a sex maniac
rapes your mother,
wife and children
right in front of you and chops them
up and makes you eat them while...
I give up, you win.
I don't know if it's what you said,
but I don't feel very well.
Your payback for being a shithead.
And for keeping things from me.
I feel dizzy.
No wonder.
We've been in here for 3 hours.
No, I'm serious.
I don't feel well at all.
Really?
Do you need to sit down?
I'm going to faint.
-Don't be silly.
-Here goes.
Alfedo? Alfredo...
Can you help me?
Alfredo...
Please!
-Excuse me!
-Alfredo...
Please!
-Can you hear me?
- What is it?
A guy just fainted in here.
Send me someone, quick.
-What happened?
-He said he felt dizzy and he fell.
All of a sudden.
Alfredo...
He's not moving.
Alfredo...
Hold on, listen to me.
You always take everything too far.
You couldn't leave
well-enough alone.
That has nothing to do with it.
It's about something else.
I don't care. Just leave me alone.
I'm sorry, Lucia. Forgive me.
Goddamnit.
Incidentally, Documentary Theater
was born that day in the Prado.
Alfredo thought it up while looking
at "The Maids of Honour. "
And I was the first audience
to endure it.
I still hadn't told Alfredo
I was pregnant.
You scared me.
I didn't understand.
There, it's over.
I thought you were joking at first,
but later
I thought it was serious.
For a second there
I even thought you might die.
"SHOOTlNG"
NOVEMBER 1999
Somebody help me!
Please, somebody help me!
"Shooting" was the first
of a series of performances
designed around current events.
The idea was to incorporate
fiction into reality
and have the audience take part
without their knowing it.
We thought it would help people
understand modern issues,
like terrorism.
Please, everyone get back.
This way, please.
Please move back.
Quickly, that way, please.
It was around ten in the morning.
The shops had just opened.
It wasn't crowded,
but there were people around.
Goddamnit.
I had to get out of there.
-How'd it go?
-Fine, except for the stroller.
-What?
-I ran it over, I didn't see it.
Someone even had to be attended to.
An older woman, we were told later,
who fainted
when she saw Alfredo get shot.
Holy shit.
This is getting ugly.
Give me an update.
We put on a neck-brace, massage...
And we took his pulse.
Saline and adrenaline.
Get the Lifepack.
-Wait, hold it.
-What the fuck?
We're actors.
What?
We're a theatrical group.
We're performing here.
What?
I'm sorry, but we've no choice
but to file charges.
We were most tense
not when the verdict was read,
but when the D.A. read the charges.
That's when we realized
the trial was going to be much more
complicated than we had anticipated.
We were accused of simulating a
crime and of justifying terrorism.
We were told later that
the fact it all took place the year
of the cease-fire with E.T.A.
was the reason it all got buried
and the sentences were suspended.
Anything to do with terrorism
was kept quiet.
They wanted the cease-fire
to give people a sense of peace
and calm.
No, I never agreed with " Shooting."
The ends never justify the means.
I think we made a mistake.
We went too far.
Ana was born the day of the verdict.
I remember because we all celebrated
at the hospital.
Alfredo, Lucia and the baby moved
to an apartment in Chueca.
Daniel never forgave them
for leaving.
He didn't understand
why they had to leave.
We felt differently
about what had happened,
and about how it would
affect the future.
Not being allowed to act
anywhere in public for 4 years
ruined all our plans.
I told you, Daniel.
There's nothing we can do.
What are you talking about?
I'm sorry, but no.
I'm not going to explain it again.
-Alfredo.
-I'm coming.
Because I'm at work
and it's busy.
Excuse me.
Are you Alfredo Baeza?
Yes.
So, you work here?
Congratulations.
I've seen you guys and you're great.
-Thanks.
-Do you know when
the next performance is?
Actually, I have no idea.
I just wanted to say hi.
Great. Thanks.
Hi, Juan.
Well, you're the only one
against it.
Hi, Anita.
Go on, I'm listening.
I already said everything
I had to say.
What?
You won't let me get a word in.
Here we go.
Why not?
Because I don't feel like it.
You got that?
Think about what could happen.
Maybe you'll understand...
What?
I can't believe my ears!
No! Nobody's doing anything
until we get the damn permits!
End of discussion.
-Shit!
-Calm down.
What's wrong with daddy?
What's up, Juan?
Who was that?
We could hear you outside.
-Daniel. He wants to go it alone.
-So?
Let him.
What do you care? It's up to him
if he wants to ruin his life.
I just don't want him to ruin ours.
He's been calling all morning.
He's driving me up the fucking wall.
Dani, get off my case!
You're driving me fucking...
Excuse me.
I thought it was a friend.
Yes, speaking.
Who?
Oh, right. Sure, no problem.
I know where that is.
Tuesday at noon.
I'll be there.
Okay. Goodbye, Eduardo.
Ever heard of a producer
named Eduardo Echevarria?
How many shows would it be?
Right now I can't say.
But I need you to do as many shows
per day as possible. Why?
No reason.
I don't know.
-What? Is there a problem?
-No.
I'd have to talk to the others
and check the dates.
Look,
this might sound absurd, but
we've never worked professionally.
It's our first time.
I don't know if we're capable.
There isn't much of a difference,
I assure you. You'll be doing
-the same act.
-Well, we've never been paid.
I know, but try to understand.
I have to pay you something.
Otherwise I can't sign you guys.
Don't worry, it won't be much.
Don't expect to make millions.
Theater doesn't pay the rent.
It's not the amount.
It really isn't.
I know it sounds strange,
but it's a deal we made
from the start.
We wanted to be free,
to stay independent. That's why...
Look, just think it over.
You can let me know.
I'll call you
after I talk to the others.
-Hi.
-Hi.
-ls she asleep?
-Yeah, barely.
-Well? What did he say?
-Nothing.
He wants to hire us
to work at festivals.
He'd give us total freedom.
Any show we want.
Old stuff of ours, or new.
Starting when?
At the Alcala Festival.
I think it's in July.
What did you say?
That I'd talk to the others.
But I'm going to say no anyway.
What?
You have nothing to say?
I think you said it all.
I'm sorry.
What do you think?
-You really want to know?
-Yes, tell me.
I think it would be a lot of fun.
And legally, this is the only way.
Who the hell cares
if we're professionals or not?
You should talk to the others
before deciding.
They have a right to know.
We've never done it for money.
So why start now?
-Done what?
-Get paid to act, Lucia.
Well, I think you secretly want to.
What does that matter?
It does.
It would be great if for once,
instead of your head,
you used this.
I didn't say that.
You did.
But you said you'd do it.
Yes, I'd like to. So what?
It's the only way.
I disagree.
-Fine, tell me how.
-I told you.
No, that's too risky.
Come on, Dani.
Nobody here wants
to break probation
and risk a real jail term.
-It's better than selling out.
-I agree.
Fine, but the others don't.
I see where this is going.
I have eyes.
I can't believe it.
Just like that,
our whole method goes out the
window. It's a matter of principle.
Principle? We just want to act.
It's been eight months!
You might not think so, but I do.
That's all I can say.
Nobody's forcing you.
I know that.
Don't worry, we'll be there.
I don't care what you do.
-What is it?
-Can I say something?
Go ahead.
Why not do what Helena said?
I think it's for the best.
Besides,
this is leading us nowhere.
I'm in.
No.
It seemed reasonable enough to me.
I said no.
I let the others decide.
You guys decide.
Yes.
Yes.
" MESSlAH"
JULY 2000
Who wants the blood of Christ?
You? You want it?
You want the blood of Christ?
Dani!
What the fuck are you doing?
What we've always done,
that's what.
-You prick.
-Go fuck yourself.
-You'll ruin everything.
-Really? I hope I do!
No, Dani!
-You want blood?
-You fucking idiot.
-You want blood?
-Watch the eyes, asshole!
Don't push.
If it gets in your eyes,
tough shit!
Dani!
Goddamnit, Dani!
Stop!
Dani!
Oh, Lord.
Why have you forsaken us?
It's the only way out.
There still may be time.
Yeah.
When would we need
the text ready by?
It's in October.
If we're ready by September,
I'll have time to send the paperwork
to the Ministry of Culture.
-Do we really have a chance?
-I think so.
But I have another project going,
so that's the best I can offer you.
You can't convince them?
No, I've been trying all morning.
It's a lost cause.
I've got to go. Start preparing
and think about what I said.
If you want to keep acting,
that is.
I can't work with someone like that,
it's too complicated.
This is my livelihood.
I can't gamble on a lunatic.
I'm leaving on my own accord.
You got that, asshole?
Would you drop it?
Just sit down.
Hey, it's no big deal.
All that commitment and talk
about free theater,
and now what?
You're prostituting yourself.
You sold out for peanuts.
You ruined everything.
Even worse, you did it on purpose.
And I'd do it again.
Why? Because I always
practice what I preach.
If you're going to screw things up,
just leave. You said so yourself.
My, how you've changed.
That's right. So what?
Some people evolve,
while others stay the same forever.
Like you.
You're damn right!
-Just shut up, Dani.
-I'll never change.
Even if it kills me.
It's my only salvation.
Let go of me!
Let's go.
What's wrong?
Our shows got cancelled.
Shit.
Hi.
Would you guys mind
taking a photo with us later?
We always take pictures
with people
from the festival.
If you don't mind.
The last time
we were all together,
in Alcala, was very sad.
It's hard to accept
when something
you created falls apart.
Not only something you created,
but something you've lived for.
Signing with Eduardo Echevarria
was like signing
our death sentence.
We lost what held us together:
our freedom and the desire
to be unique.
Without the one thing
that made us different,
we had no purpose.
Daniel was right.
We sold out.
Eduardo was only trying
to exploit the " Shooting" scandal.
It wasn't bad timing, or fatigue,
nothing like that.
It was simply
his extremism and radicalism.
His cause had been lost
to the rest of us.
Besides, at that point
it was completely unviable.
We sold out.
Not only by accepting money
for the first time as a group,
but also...
Well, it was very painful.
All the things we had to change.
Here's an example.
Whenever we used to do " Messiah",
we did it naked. Until that
goody-goody Eduardo came along.
That jerk made us wear
brassieres and loincloths.
Imagine that! In 1999!
After Daniel and I left the group,
there was no contact between us.
Just Pedro, who came to visit once.
He said Alfredo was playing
in pubs in Malasana.
But we didn't see him
until Alejandro fell ill.
It was because of his brother.
Everything Alfredo did
was directly related to his brother.
He had this recurring nightmare:
he dreamt that he had murdered him.
Alfredo at times confused
fiction and reality.
Alfredo!
Alfredo!
What is it?
I was at the Ministry.
And?
We didn't get the grant.
Open up.
-Hi.
-Hi.
When did you get home?
A little while ago.
I love watching her sleep.
Me, too.
I had to take off my shirt
and wash my hands.
Why?
Because it's sickening.
I can't touch her
after being in that damn bar.
I can't go on like this.
I'm rotting away.
I can't take it any more.
Then don't.
I don't want anything
to do with this.
Not even theater.
It's bullshit.
Alfredo?
What?
What is it?
Alejandro is ill.
He always destroyed
the ones we gave him.
I tried to stop him, but...
It's all right, mother.
I've missed you.
Would you like something to eat,
or would you rather rest a bit?
No, I'm fine.
I'm going to lie down.
I'll leave you, then.
-I'll help your father.
-See you later, mother.
See you later, my son.
Why did you do it?
Are you sure?
I've lost all interest in acting.
That could change.
I don't know the business,
but maybe you'll have better luck
in a few years.
I doubt it.
Think it through.
You've always liked it.
There are worse things out there.
Yeah? That's not what you said
when I moved to Madrid.
Sure.
But I got over that.
Your brother helped me, I think.
Those marionettes of yours
were the only thing he ever liked.
Unbelievable.
What?
Nothing.
-What is it?
-No, nothing.
I never knew they mattered.
Nobody knows what happened in Lorca,
but something had pushed Alfredo
to call us with the theater idea.
I've heard all kinds of stuff,
but no one really knows.
Alejandro.
Hi. See who came to see you?
He was so excited.
He was inspired again.
The Royal Theater idea
sounded like madness to me,
but later I realized
it was like going back to our roots.
Hi, is Daniel there?
Dani, it's me, Alfredo.
Alfredo Baeza.
It wasn't so far-fetched.
The ruling prohibited us
from acting in the street.
It didn't mention a theater.
I didn't care much
about the Manifesto.
I said no because it was too risky.
It just didn't seem necessary to me
at the time.
" Shooting" was enough for me.
I said no because
I wanted to stay out of trouble.
"So you defend an idea on paper,
but you can't defend it
and make it a reality.
Is that it?"...
The way he said it,
he had such a way with words...
He convinced me.
I couldn't refuse.
" ROY AL THEATER"
SEPTEMBER 2001
-All set.
-I'm off.
Straight to the stalls.
Stop for nothing. See you later.
Okay, bye.
Dani? Dani!
Juan, is that you?
-Yeah, it's me.
-I'm in here.
What took you so long?
-I didn't see Pedro.
-Shit.
We're late.
Here, you need a quick touch-up.
-Wait, Dani. We've got to stop this.
-What?
-We have to warn Alfredo somehow.
-Why?
Quiet.
What is it?
What is it?
-Guess who just entered the theater.
-Who?
-The President.
-Alfredo...
Wait, hold on a sec.
-Are you kidding?
-I just saw him go in.
-The President?
-We have to warn Alfredo.
Wait. What for?
What for?
To tell him what's happening!
-That'll just make him nervous.
-Good!
No, he shouldn't know.
Are you nuts? You know what a scene
he could cause?
Damn right!
The bigger the better.
You're high.
I'll warn him.
-Wait.
-Let go.
-You're not warning anybody.
-Let go, Dani.
Juan.
Come on, let's think this through.
Okay, kids. Break a leg!
Let's get to it.
Let the real show begin.
Hello!
Excuse me,
could you cut the music
for a second?
If you don't mind.
Silence!
Thank you so much.
Come in, Alberto.
What is it?
Forgive this minor interruption,
of this production,
subsidised by the illustrious
Ministry of Culture. But...
I've got a little anecdote,
if you don't mind.
We happened...
to decide the other day
to take over this stage in order
to let our voices be heard.
Therefore, one...
two...
three...
and four.
We did it because we're fed up.
Yes.
We're tired.
We're drained.
We're desperate!
I'll check the actors.
Because lately theater,
and art in general...
really...
stinks!
Lower the curtain.
That's right.
The stench of business,
of boardrooms,
civil servants, commerce,
advertising, routine, comfort...
Ieisure, boredom, bureaucracy,
and deceit.
Everything except art!
Art!
Art is no more.
Only the art business...
or the art market...
or the business of art subsidies.
Just another bank account,
the art of adding numbers.
But we're not part...
What's he doing?
Still up on that swing.
Incredible.
We're... freeeeee!
We can try the other catwalk,
but it's far.
Any other way?
Excuse me,
you can't go in there.
Yes!
We believe that art
can change people's hearts...
Give them strength...
Don't touch me.
I'll go quietly.
Art can make people feel alive.
Art...
can reach the spirit of every man,
and every woman.
Art can bring social consciousness,
make us better people.
Art can be universal...
Iimitless...
free of religion,
free of race.
Art can be a weapon.
But not a prop.
A real gun.
-The shot must be heard...
-Shit!
The target must be hit.
Alfredo?
Alfredo...
Alfredo!
Alfredo!
If I could be twenty-something
again,
I'd do it all over again.
But knowing what I know now.
So we could make it work.
I don't know.
Whenever I think about it,
it seems...
absurd.
Time has passed...
It's still painful and absurd.
A waste.
A huge waste.
I'll never forget seeing Alfredo
dangling from the trapeze.
Never.
We couldn't believe it.
Even now I can hardly believe
Alfredo died.
It was like a bad dream.
A nightmare.
You can't imagine how much
something like this
can change a person's life.
The experience changed me forever.
I assure you,
not a single day goes by
that I don't think
about that moment.
We wanted to change the world.
We failed miserably.
Now I just try
to not let the world change me.
ART lS A WEAPON
LOADED WlTH FUTURE
TO MY FATHER