Genius (2017) s02e10 Episode Script
Picasso-Chapter Ten
1 Previously on Genius Franco has Hitler and the Nazis on his side, Pablo.
We need you on ours.
So then you did this? No.
You did.
So, Luc, tell me about Tunisia.
You should come and visit sometime.
I should have kissed you the first time I saw you.
What's going on? I'm not sleeping in there.
Not with these things.
Where are earth are you going? To catch a ferry to Tunisia.
To be with your teacher friend? Before we have time to build a life together? But, Pablo, it's beautiful.
'Cause that's how I see you.
You see the beauty beneath my ugliness.
What in God's name do you want?! You know what, Papa, just forget about me.
Maman, too.
No, wait, you already have.
I want Claude and Paloma to know the rest of their family.
You are an angel, Maya.
And a wonderful big sister.
They're wonderful children.
I've been getting a marvelous response to your paintings.
I sold three pieces this month.
She's not like Maman.
If you do not treat her better, you are going to lose her.
I should leave you.
Don't be ridiculous.
Nobody leaves Picasso! I don't think you've met my cousin Jacqueline.
It's an honor, Monsieur Picasso.
Pablo, I'm leaving you.
Is there someone else? Kostas.
Without me, what will your life be? I don't know.
But it will be my own.
His Excellency is in a very talkative mood today.
The same could be said for His Royal Barber.
I just thought you'd be overwhelmed with joy at the news of our beloved General Franco's recovery from influenza.
Yeah, the bastard refuses to die.
Eh, shh.
Be careful.
When old men start talking about dying, Death pricks up his ears.
Just finish up.
We are gonna be late for the bullfighting.
Pablo, you are not going anywhere.
How long were you listening? You're worse than Franco's spies.
You know very well Dr.
Bernal does not want you leaving the house.
Doctors, what do they know? Mm.
I'm feeling fine.
You are not going.
And that's that.
Mm.
I'll see you soon! Okay, my friend! PiCASSO: Amigo! Thank you! Yeah! Bye! Bye! - Hasta la próxima.
- Yeah.
Bye.
Didier, will you please open the gate for Monsieur Arias? Uh, Vamos.
Vamos.
Come to my house.
I want to paint you.
Maybe after work.
No.
No.
I must get back to work.
Listen to me.
Quit your job.
I'll take care of you.
Move in with me.
He's already moved on.
He's found himself some, 20-year-old, installed her in his mansion.
Poor thing.
Mm.
And what about Kostas, the Greek god of rescue? Where is he now? I didn't need rescuing.
I just, I just needed, some fun.
Oh.
Didn't last long.
You broke his heart.
Poor Kostas.
So, now what? I want to move on, too.
Be free of him.
Shh, you'll wake the children.
Let me help you.
Thank you.
It's very nice to meet you, Jacqueline.
Yes.
You, too.
Whoa! Two! What? For a moment, it was like the first time I ever saw you.
Come.
I want to show you what I have been working on.
Careful, careful.
Don't touch it.
Don't touch it.
Papa always lets us play with his paints.
Claude, Paloma, why don't you just go and unpack your suitcases? Jacqueline, please help them.
The lines are strong, but the colors are diffused.
As if the artist was in two minds about what he wants.
Listen, um, tomorrow, you must come to Cannes with me.
Jacqueline wants to buy a new house, and, I am not sure.
Why would you want me to help you pick a house for you and Jacqueline? Because I trust you.
I'm sorry.
I'm going back to Paris tomorrow.
Oh.
But I thought you were staying.
It's your time with the children, Pablo.
Right.
There is someone else, isn't there? That's why you want to rush home.
Fine, be a mystery.
Come out with me tonight.
If I bore you, just, then you can go back to Paris.
I made a terrible mistake.
I want you back, and I love you.
You were right, Pablo.
I met someone.
Who is he? His name is Luc.
He was an art teacher for a while in Tunisia, and, um, now he's back in Paris.
That's, that's the one you tried to run off to when the scorpions attacked.
You traded the greatest artist in the world for an art teacher? Last I heard, Matisse is still alive.
Poor Henri.
You know, he stopped working.
Yeah.
Yeah.
A painter must always reach for his brush or charcoal, every day, if he wants to stay alive.
Do one thing for me.
He wants you to go to Spain to ride around a bullring? No, he can't go to Spain.
Not with Franco in power.
Um, they built a ring in the square in Vallauris for this one bullfight, just for him.
Oh, of course.
Because his ego is not big enough already.
Someone always rides out and bows to el presidente, after which the corrida can begin.
And, for this one fight, it's him.
I'm sorry.
I was looking forward to spending time with you, too.
Without the children.
I just don't understand why it takes you 10 days to prepare for this.
I thought you knew how to ride.
It's dressage.
I need to select a horse, work with it You say you want to move on from him.
Yet, at the first opportunity, you let him draw you back in.
I think he sees it as a way to close the book on us.
And I do think it would be good for us going forward to be on friendly terms for the children.
Picasso! Picasso! Picasso! Picasso! Picasso! Picasso! Picasso! Pi I have some upsetting news.
Mm-hmm.
Paulo called.
Um, he was very shaken.
He says that, uh, Olga is dying.
I'm so sorry.
She's in the hospital, and he doesn't think she has long.
Can't you see I'm working? Didn't you hear me? She's dying.
I heard.
Aren't you going to visit her? I don't want to remember her that way.
Tubes, machines, and doctors, you know.
Hospitals are places of death.
Now leave me alone.
I am painting here.
Is that, uh, is that how it will be if I ever fall ill? You will leave me to suffer alone in a, in a hospital? I'm a curse in hospitals.
You wouldn't want me there.
Believe me.
You don't love me.
You don't, you, I should just leave you.
Do what you want.
This, is what I want.
I'm happy you called, Françoise, so.
Well, I figured, um, since you were going to be in Paris anyway Yeah, we had many happy years here, right? Yes, we did.
Luc and I are getting married.
That's why you came here? To dangle your happiness in front of me? Really? You have Jacqueline.
Mm-hmm.
I can't be happy, too? Are you doing this to make me jealous? Because if you are, you are succeeding.
I can get rid of her, and you and I can get back together again.
Huh? Pablo, this isn't a game.
I wanted your blessing.
Yeah? I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to upset you.
No, I am not upset.
You know, just go, get married.
You know, I hope it's a fiasco.
You know where the door is.
Where's my husband? He's not in the house, Madame? No.
When did you last see him? A couple of hours ago.
He walked his barber to the car.
Did you see him go back inside? Idiot! He snuck off to see the bulls.
Go find him, bring him home! Olé! Olé! Sorry, but I have strict orders from Madame Picasso to take you home.
When the corrida is over.
Oh, Madame said straight away.
Oeyeme, what's the matter? You deaf? Arias, Arias.
No, it's all right.
No, no.
Oh.
Pablo! Oh.
Come on.
Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
Shh, shh.
No, I'm fine.
I'm fine.
I'm fine.
Just a A little lightheaded.
Didier, come here.
Come here, son.
Just be a good boy and get me some water, please? Fenasse? Ven aquÃ.
Come here.
That man that just left, he's annoying me.
Don't let him back in.
Of course, Monsieur.
Go, go.
My apologies.
I'm gonna smoke another one.
Per Signora Simon.
Grazie.
Signora Simon.
It sounds even better in Italian.
Everything sounds better in Italian.
What is it? Uh, it's from Maya.
Paloma is sick, and Pablo is refusing to take her to the doctor.
My God, he is unbelievable.
We have to go.
No, you telegram Maya back, and you ask her to take Paloma to the doctor.
Actually, no.
You telegram the monster himself.
Luc, you don't understand.
He hates hospitals.
He's refusing to take Françoise, this is a ploy by him to ruin our honeymoon.
Do you understand that? Maybe.
But what if she's really sick? What is he going to buy next, huh? Versailles? Stay here.
Coming.
Coming! Oh.
Where's Paloma? She's upstairs.
I thought you were in Italy.
Jacqueline is taking care of her.
She'll be fine.
This is my time with the children.
Françoise! My love.
Mama.
Yeah, honey.
Come on.
Come on.
Come here with me.
Come with me.
Oh.
I feel so guilty.
We have no idea she was so ill.
If her appendix had burst, she could have died.
Jacqueline said it was nothing.
You did this deliberately.
You think I infected her? I don't understand.
I think she got sick and, instead of taking care of her, you used it as an excuse to ruin my honeymoon.
I adore her, Françoise.
How could you say such a thing? Because I know you.
You care about yourself and no one else.
Well, if that is what you truly think of me, I have nothing else to say to you.
Picasso sent me.
He, uh, wants his art back.
He can have it all.
What, Françoise? Are you mad? I don't want them.
They are worth millions.
You're always saying he comes between us.
What better way to get rid of him than get rid of his art? Please.
Daniel, not that one.
I'm sorry, Françoise.
He wants everything.
What am I supposed to say to him? I don't care.
You tell him that if he wants this one back, he can come get it himself.
Hmm.
Given all of this, I think it would be awkward for me to continue to represent you.
Yes, I'm sure it would be very awkward for you to make him angry.
I would be happy to recommend you to other dealers.
You know very well nobody else would dare go up against him.
Out! Françoise, you had no right to do that.
We are married.
That work belongs to us.
No, Luc.
It belongs to another time in my life.
And if I want to let all of that go, it's up to me, not you.
What do you think of it, huh? You must have something to say! You're a genius.
Who am I to express an opinion? You are the one that I chose to be here, to challenge me, to inspire me! Would you like me to pose for you? I went to the doctor's today.
Everything all right? Yes.
Um, it got me thinking about what would happen to the children if, um, if I had some horrible disease or, if I had got run over by a bus, you know, or something.
A bus? I would take care of Claude and Paloma, and I would raise them as my own.
I know, and that is so sweet, but it shouldn't be your financial responsibility to look after them.
It's his.
He's their father.
So, what are you proposing? I'm going to ask him to set up a trust for them.
All we talk about is Picasso.
I feel like I'm married to him, too.
We are never going to be free of him, are we? I'm not asking for much, just a small amount placed into a trust for our children.
But if he won't answer my letters, what else can I do? Madame, there are no grounds upon which to file a lawsuit.
I went to law school.
There's always a way.
You and Picasso were never married.
His name isn't on their birth certificates.
Legally, they aren't even his children.
Then let's start there.
Your lawyer is here from Paris.
Oh.
Ah.
You could have phoned.
I did, several times.
But your Jacqueline, she's quite the guard dog.
Well, she protects me, so I can concentrate on what matters.
We have a problem.
It's Françoise.
Monsieur Picasso has instructed me to make you an offer.
In order to forgo the long and costly legal efforts required to legitimize your children under the eyes of the law, Monsieur Picasso suggests a simpler solution.
You divorce your husband and marry Monsieur Picasso.
Ah.
Is this, is this one of his jokes? No, no, nothing of the sort.
You and Monsieur Picasso could then divorce straight away, Madame, if that is what you desire.
But the children's rights would be established, once and for all.
You have to do it, Mama.
Yes, Mama.
Please! I don't believe he chose to involve you in this.
It's all he could talk about all weekend.
He was so excited! He talked about marrying me in front of Jacqueline? No, we hardly saw her.
They were fighting the whole time.
If I were to marry your father, it would be for legal reasons, not because we're going to be a couple.
Yeah, but maybe you could.
And we could be a family again.
Uh, see? It's not, it's not healthy to fantasize about things like this.
And what about Luc? He's been like a father to you.
We like Luc, but you and he are no better than Papa and Jacqueline.
We hear you arguing every night.
We're not arguing, we're talking.
We're happy.
Didn't you just say it's unhealthy to fantasize, Mama? We need to talk.
I'm tired.
I want a divorce.
Claude, Paloma! Eat.
I'm going to Pierre's after school, so I'll, uh, see you at dinner.
Mama? Of course.
Have a lovely day.
You need to see a specialist in Paris immediately.
Oh, it can wait.
My children are visiting.
This is our only time together, so thank you.
Um, I have a surprise for both of you.
I know it's not January, but, uh, you'll be back in New York then, and, um, I didn't want to miss our tradition, so, um Ah, galette des rois! I will serve it.
Have I ever told you about the time I threw a party for Henri Rousseau? Uh, no? No? Well, he was an old man who painted his entire life without no one recognizing his talent, so Fernande and I organized a party to honor him, and so we ordered a special cake like this one, but for the wrong day.
Who is Fernande? Nobody wants to hear about your past, Pablo.
We do.
Bon appétit.
Oh.
He got it.
Papa, I'm too old for this.
No, no, no.
No.
Hold on to your youth while you can, son.
Yeah, yeah.
All hail King Claude.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Papa, Mama is having her first show in New York.
You should come.
She would really love it if you came.
Enough.
You will not speak of that woman in my house.
She's our mother.
We can speak of her whenever we want.
Shut up, you little cow! Don't talk to her like that! Hey, hey, hey, hey, everyone, please.
They're spoiled brats, Pablo.
Selfish children.
Paloma! Paloma.
Paloma.
Your work is so controlled.
I love its simplicity.
You know, I own a couple of Picassos.
One of them is of you.
Perhaps you'd like to come over to my place and see it on my wall, tell me the story behind the creation.
Did you two paint together much? Did you share a studio with him? He warned me this would happen, that I'd be known forever as his ex-lover and nothing more.
Françoise, you sold five pieces tonight.
If I weren Picasso's mistress, you think that would have happened? I moved to New York thinking I could escape his shadow.
I know what my father would have said.
"Don't run from your problems, take them on.
" That nasty bitch.
Read it.
Read it.
And that's just an excerpt.
She's writing an entire book about you.
He's suing us for libel and defamation.
Every word I wrote is true.
We're not questioning that, but at this stage, we're in the court of public opinion.
40 artists and writers have signed a petition supporting him.
So we'll fight him.
Françoise, he's a powerful man.
I'm not going to let him win.
The sole purpose of this purported work of non-fiction, Monsieur le Président, is for a jilted lover to enact revenge on Picasso by smearing his reputation with lies.
Madame Gilot has simply portrayed Monsieur Picasso as she saw him, using her words, just as Picasso portrayed Madame Gilot as he saw her, using his brush! Hello, hello? Congratulations.
It's been a while since we last spoke.
It's been 10 years.
Well, you know me.
I only enjoy the company of winners.
Well, you did everything you possibly could to make me a loser, Pablo.
Yet still you persisted.
Did you read my book? I ended by thanking you.
What for? You taught me so much.
We have two beautiful children.
And you forced me to, learn to survive on my own, to find my voice.
I'll forever be grateful to you for that.
And I will always love you.
The surgeon will be right in.
You're losing your prostate, Pablo, not your life, hmm? It doesn't seem that way to me.
So, would you rather make love and die, or live and paint? Hmm.
Yes.
Turn him away.
I decide, I decide who comes in and out of my house.
Understood? Good.
I'm sorry, Claude, Monsieur Picasso is very busy at the moment.
The gardener is let in but I am not?! I have flown all the way from New York to see him, to introduce him to my girlfriend.
I'm sorry.
Who was at the gate? Just the gardener.
Hmm.
Look at all of our children.
They're so vibrant.
Have you heard from my children lately? Huh? They know I had surgery, right? You asked me to protect you so that you could work without distractions.
You don't have to protect me from my own family, Jacqueline.
All they want from you is your money, Pablo.
Hmm? I am the only one who truly loves you and cares about you.
Speaking of which, your lawyer called, asking about your will.
No, no, no.
We are not talking about this.
Pablo.
To prepare for death, no, no.
It's just, it's just, it's a death warrant in itself, and I'm not ready to die.
There is one thing, Guernica.
I want it to be displayed in Spain.
But only after that bastard Franco is rotting in his grave.
Hmm.
Yeah.
Why are you an artist? That's a big question, Dr.
Salk.
Oh, please.
Call me Jonas.
Well, I want my art to keep people curious.
I think it's tragic how adults lose their sense of wonder about the world.
Is that the idea behind modernism? What? I'm sorry.
This is the first time in a very long time I've had a conversation about my art without being asked about Picasso.
Well, I'm not here to meet Picasso.
Thank you.
Well, I hope we can do this again soon.
It's only fair to be direct about expectations.
Try me.
All right.
One: my art comes first.
Two: I won't sacrifice my ambitions for a man.
Three: I won't cook for a man.
Four: I won't clean up after a man.
And five: I, um, I need time to paint every day.
None of that's a problem for me.
Don't be difficult, Pablo.
It's the Louvre.
And you would be the first living artist ever to be exhibited.
The Louvre is for dead artists, and I am not dead yet! And I am certainly not finished painting.
Georges Pompidou.
What? He would be there.
I don't give a damn about the president of France.
I'm Spanish.
You go.
I have no interest in the past.
I only look forward.
I am tired of painting you.
I need someone new.
Yes.
There is no one else.
I am all you have left.
Look how happy they are.
It reminds me of Málaga, when my father took me to the bullfights.
Olé! I should have taken my sons here more and, uh, taught them the beauty of it all, just like my father did with me.
It's not too late.
I'm sure if you call them, they would love to come with you sometime.
Don't you miss them? You think I don't have a heart, don't you? Well, I think, uh, I think you're at a bullfight with your barber and not with your children.
Huh.
I love them, but if I ever made them more important than my art, I could never have accomplished anything.
I don't believe that for a second.
How would you know? You cut hair.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to say that.
No.
No, I'm proud of the work I do, but first I'm a father and a husband.
You are a good man, Arias.
Call them, Pablo.
Call them.
Hey.
Oh, Papa.
I'm so glad you came.
Yes, oh.
Hello Pablo.
Marie-Thérèse.
Mi niña, Maya.
Hey, Papa.
The last time I saw the two of you, you weren't much older than Olivier.
I can't believe you're a grandmother.
Neither can I.
Françoise.
It's lovely to see you again.
Oh, Paulo.
It's been far too long.
Son.
Dora.
You look so beautiful.
Are these your children? Paloma, meet Dora Maar.
It's a pleasure.
And this is Claude.
I've seen your work in New York.
I'm a photographer myself.
He has your eyes.
Careful.
They are dangerous weapons.
Everyone, let's make a toast.
Wait for us.
Olga.
Fernande.
And us.
Eva.
Carles.
Carles.
How are you, my friend? Pablo.
Pablo? We are not a traditional family, but we're a family nonetheless.
All bound by blood and love.
It warms my heart to see the man who has only looked forward his entire life taking a moment to look back, at what is truly important.
Perhaps in the end, we are your perfect painting, Pablo.
To Pablo.
To Pablo.
I'm here, my love.
I'm here.
What can I do for you? I need, I need What? I need, I n What do you need? I need paper, and charcoal.
Olé!
We need you on ours.
So then you did this? No.
You did.
So, Luc, tell me about Tunisia.
You should come and visit sometime.
I should have kissed you the first time I saw you.
What's going on? I'm not sleeping in there.
Not with these things.
Where are earth are you going? To catch a ferry to Tunisia.
To be with your teacher friend? Before we have time to build a life together? But, Pablo, it's beautiful.
'Cause that's how I see you.
You see the beauty beneath my ugliness.
What in God's name do you want?! You know what, Papa, just forget about me.
Maman, too.
No, wait, you already have.
I want Claude and Paloma to know the rest of their family.
You are an angel, Maya.
And a wonderful big sister.
They're wonderful children.
I've been getting a marvelous response to your paintings.
I sold three pieces this month.
She's not like Maman.
If you do not treat her better, you are going to lose her.
I should leave you.
Don't be ridiculous.
Nobody leaves Picasso! I don't think you've met my cousin Jacqueline.
It's an honor, Monsieur Picasso.
Pablo, I'm leaving you.
Is there someone else? Kostas.
Without me, what will your life be? I don't know.
But it will be my own.
His Excellency is in a very talkative mood today.
The same could be said for His Royal Barber.
I just thought you'd be overwhelmed with joy at the news of our beloved General Franco's recovery from influenza.
Yeah, the bastard refuses to die.
Eh, shh.
Be careful.
When old men start talking about dying, Death pricks up his ears.
Just finish up.
We are gonna be late for the bullfighting.
Pablo, you are not going anywhere.
How long were you listening? You're worse than Franco's spies.
You know very well Dr.
Bernal does not want you leaving the house.
Doctors, what do they know? Mm.
I'm feeling fine.
You are not going.
And that's that.
Mm.
I'll see you soon! Okay, my friend! PiCASSO: Amigo! Thank you! Yeah! Bye! Bye! - Hasta la próxima.
- Yeah.
Bye.
Didier, will you please open the gate for Monsieur Arias? Uh, Vamos.
Vamos.
Come to my house.
I want to paint you.
Maybe after work.
No.
No.
I must get back to work.
Listen to me.
Quit your job.
I'll take care of you.
Move in with me.
He's already moved on.
He's found himself some, 20-year-old, installed her in his mansion.
Poor thing.
Mm.
And what about Kostas, the Greek god of rescue? Where is he now? I didn't need rescuing.
I just, I just needed, some fun.
Oh.
Didn't last long.
You broke his heart.
Poor Kostas.
So, now what? I want to move on, too.
Be free of him.
Shh, you'll wake the children.
Let me help you.
Thank you.
It's very nice to meet you, Jacqueline.
Yes.
You, too.
Whoa! Two! What? For a moment, it was like the first time I ever saw you.
Come.
I want to show you what I have been working on.
Careful, careful.
Don't touch it.
Don't touch it.
Papa always lets us play with his paints.
Claude, Paloma, why don't you just go and unpack your suitcases? Jacqueline, please help them.
The lines are strong, but the colors are diffused.
As if the artist was in two minds about what he wants.
Listen, um, tomorrow, you must come to Cannes with me.
Jacqueline wants to buy a new house, and, I am not sure.
Why would you want me to help you pick a house for you and Jacqueline? Because I trust you.
I'm sorry.
I'm going back to Paris tomorrow.
Oh.
But I thought you were staying.
It's your time with the children, Pablo.
Right.
There is someone else, isn't there? That's why you want to rush home.
Fine, be a mystery.
Come out with me tonight.
If I bore you, just, then you can go back to Paris.
I made a terrible mistake.
I want you back, and I love you.
You were right, Pablo.
I met someone.
Who is he? His name is Luc.
He was an art teacher for a while in Tunisia, and, um, now he's back in Paris.
That's, that's the one you tried to run off to when the scorpions attacked.
You traded the greatest artist in the world for an art teacher? Last I heard, Matisse is still alive.
Poor Henri.
You know, he stopped working.
Yeah.
Yeah.
A painter must always reach for his brush or charcoal, every day, if he wants to stay alive.
Do one thing for me.
He wants you to go to Spain to ride around a bullring? No, he can't go to Spain.
Not with Franco in power.
Um, they built a ring in the square in Vallauris for this one bullfight, just for him.
Oh, of course.
Because his ego is not big enough already.
Someone always rides out and bows to el presidente, after which the corrida can begin.
And, for this one fight, it's him.
I'm sorry.
I was looking forward to spending time with you, too.
Without the children.
I just don't understand why it takes you 10 days to prepare for this.
I thought you knew how to ride.
It's dressage.
I need to select a horse, work with it You say you want to move on from him.
Yet, at the first opportunity, you let him draw you back in.
I think he sees it as a way to close the book on us.
And I do think it would be good for us going forward to be on friendly terms for the children.
Picasso! Picasso! Picasso! Picasso! Picasso! Picasso! Picasso! Pi I have some upsetting news.
Mm-hmm.
Paulo called.
Um, he was very shaken.
He says that, uh, Olga is dying.
I'm so sorry.
She's in the hospital, and he doesn't think she has long.
Can't you see I'm working? Didn't you hear me? She's dying.
I heard.
Aren't you going to visit her? I don't want to remember her that way.
Tubes, machines, and doctors, you know.
Hospitals are places of death.
Now leave me alone.
I am painting here.
Is that, uh, is that how it will be if I ever fall ill? You will leave me to suffer alone in a, in a hospital? I'm a curse in hospitals.
You wouldn't want me there.
Believe me.
You don't love me.
You don't, you, I should just leave you.
Do what you want.
This, is what I want.
I'm happy you called, Françoise, so.
Well, I figured, um, since you were going to be in Paris anyway Yeah, we had many happy years here, right? Yes, we did.
Luc and I are getting married.
That's why you came here? To dangle your happiness in front of me? Really? You have Jacqueline.
Mm-hmm.
I can't be happy, too? Are you doing this to make me jealous? Because if you are, you are succeeding.
I can get rid of her, and you and I can get back together again.
Huh? Pablo, this isn't a game.
I wanted your blessing.
Yeah? I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to upset you.
No, I am not upset.
You know, just go, get married.
You know, I hope it's a fiasco.
You know where the door is.
Where's my husband? He's not in the house, Madame? No.
When did you last see him? A couple of hours ago.
He walked his barber to the car.
Did you see him go back inside? Idiot! He snuck off to see the bulls.
Go find him, bring him home! Olé! Olé! Sorry, but I have strict orders from Madame Picasso to take you home.
When the corrida is over.
Oh, Madame said straight away.
Oeyeme, what's the matter? You deaf? Arias, Arias.
No, it's all right.
No, no.
Oh.
Pablo! Oh.
Come on.
Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
Shh, shh.
No, I'm fine.
I'm fine.
I'm fine.
Just a A little lightheaded.
Didier, come here.
Come here, son.
Just be a good boy and get me some water, please? Fenasse? Ven aquÃ.
Come here.
That man that just left, he's annoying me.
Don't let him back in.
Of course, Monsieur.
Go, go.
My apologies.
I'm gonna smoke another one.
Per Signora Simon.
Grazie.
Signora Simon.
It sounds even better in Italian.
Everything sounds better in Italian.
What is it? Uh, it's from Maya.
Paloma is sick, and Pablo is refusing to take her to the doctor.
My God, he is unbelievable.
We have to go.
No, you telegram Maya back, and you ask her to take Paloma to the doctor.
Actually, no.
You telegram the monster himself.
Luc, you don't understand.
He hates hospitals.
He's refusing to take Françoise, this is a ploy by him to ruin our honeymoon.
Do you understand that? Maybe.
But what if she's really sick? What is he going to buy next, huh? Versailles? Stay here.
Coming.
Coming! Oh.
Where's Paloma? She's upstairs.
I thought you were in Italy.
Jacqueline is taking care of her.
She'll be fine.
This is my time with the children.
Françoise! My love.
Mama.
Yeah, honey.
Come on.
Come on.
Come here with me.
Come with me.
Oh.
I feel so guilty.
We have no idea she was so ill.
If her appendix had burst, she could have died.
Jacqueline said it was nothing.
You did this deliberately.
You think I infected her? I don't understand.
I think she got sick and, instead of taking care of her, you used it as an excuse to ruin my honeymoon.
I adore her, Françoise.
How could you say such a thing? Because I know you.
You care about yourself and no one else.
Well, if that is what you truly think of me, I have nothing else to say to you.
Picasso sent me.
He, uh, wants his art back.
He can have it all.
What, Françoise? Are you mad? I don't want them.
They are worth millions.
You're always saying he comes between us.
What better way to get rid of him than get rid of his art? Please.
Daniel, not that one.
I'm sorry, Françoise.
He wants everything.
What am I supposed to say to him? I don't care.
You tell him that if he wants this one back, he can come get it himself.
Hmm.
Given all of this, I think it would be awkward for me to continue to represent you.
Yes, I'm sure it would be very awkward for you to make him angry.
I would be happy to recommend you to other dealers.
You know very well nobody else would dare go up against him.
Out! Françoise, you had no right to do that.
We are married.
That work belongs to us.
No, Luc.
It belongs to another time in my life.
And if I want to let all of that go, it's up to me, not you.
What do you think of it, huh? You must have something to say! You're a genius.
Who am I to express an opinion? You are the one that I chose to be here, to challenge me, to inspire me! Would you like me to pose for you? I went to the doctor's today.
Everything all right? Yes.
Um, it got me thinking about what would happen to the children if, um, if I had some horrible disease or, if I had got run over by a bus, you know, or something.
A bus? I would take care of Claude and Paloma, and I would raise them as my own.
I know, and that is so sweet, but it shouldn't be your financial responsibility to look after them.
It's his.
He's their father.
So, what are you proposing? I'm going to ask him to set up a trust for them.
All we talk about is Picasso.
I feel like I'm married to him, too.
We are never going to be free of him, are we? I'm not asking for much, just a small amount placed into a trust for our children.
But if he won't answer my letters, what else can I do? Madame, there are no grounds upon which to file a lawsuit.
I went to law school.
There's always a way.
You and Picasso were never married.
His name isn't on their birth certificates.
Legally, they aren't even his children.
Then let's start there.
Your lawyer is here from Paris.
Oh.
Ah.
You could have phoned.
I did, several times.
But your Jacqueline, she's quite the guard dog.
Well, she protects me, so I can concentrate on what matters.
We have a problem.
It's Françoise.
Monsieur Picasso has instructed me to make you an offer.
In order to forgo the long and costly legal efforts required to legitimize your children under the eyes of the law, Monsieur Picasso suggests a simpler solution.
You divorce your husband and marry Monsieur Picasso.
Ah.
Is this, is this one of his jokes? No, no, nothing of the sort.
You and Monsieur Picasso could then divorce straight away, Madame, if that is what you desire.
But the children's rights would be established, once and for all.
You have to do it, Mama.
Yes, Mama.
Please! I don't believe he chose to involve you in this.
It's all he could talk about all weekend.
He was so excited! He talked about marrying me in front of Jacqueline? No, we hardly saw her.
They were fighting the whole time.
If I were to marry your father, it would be for legal reasons, not because we're going to be a couple.
Yeah, but maybe you could.
And we could be a family again.
Uh, see? It's not, it's not healthy to fantasize about things like this.
And what about Luc? He's been like a father to you.
We like Luc, but you and he are no better than Papa and Jacqueline.
We hear you arguing every night.
We're not arguing, we're talking.
We're happy.
Didn't you just say it's unhealthy to fantasize, Mama? We need to talk.
I'm tired.
I want a divorce.
Claude, Paloma! Eat.
I'm going to Pierre's after school, so I'll, uh, see you at dinner.
Mama? Of course.
Have a lovely day.
You need to see a specialist in Paris immediately.
Oh, it can wait.
My children are visiting.
This is our only time together, so thank you.
Um, I have a surprise for both of you.
I know it's not January, but, uh, you'll be back in New York then, and, um, I didn't want to miss our tradition, so, um Ah, galette des rois! I will serve it.
Have I ever told you about the time I threw a party for Henri Rousseau? Uh, no? No? Well, he was an old man who painted his entire life without no one recognizing his talent, so Fernande and I organized a party to honor him, and so we ordered a special cake like this one, but for the wrong day.
Who is Fernande? Nobody wants to hear about your past, Pablo.
We do.
Bon appétit.
Oh.
He got it.
Papa, I'm too old for this.
No, no, no.
No.
Hold on to your youth while you can, son.
Yeah, yeah.
All hail King Claude.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Papa, Mama is having her first show in New York.
You should come.
She would really love it if you came.
Enough.
You will not speak of that woman in my house.
She's our mother.
We can speak of her whenever we want.
Shut up, you little cow! Don't talk to her like that! Hey, hey, hey, hey, everyone, please.
They're spoiled brats, Pablo.
Selfish children.
Paloma! Paloma.
Paloma.
Your work is so controlled.
I love its simplicity.
You know, I own a couple of Picassos.
One of them is of you.
Perhaps you'd like to come over to my place and see it on my wall, tell me the story behind the creation.
Did you two paint together much? Did you share a studio with him? He warned me this would happen, that I'd be known forever as his ex-lover and nothing more.
Françoise, you sold five pieces tonight.
If I weren Picasso's mistress, you think that would have happened? I moved to New York thinking I could escape his shadow.
I know what my father would have said.
"Don't run from your problems, take them on.
" That nasty bitch.
Read it.
Read it.
And that's just an excerpt.
She's writing an entire book about you.
He's suing us for libel and defamation.
Every word I wrote is true.
We're not questioning that, but at this stage, we're in the court of public opinion.
40 artists and writers have signed a petition supporting him.
So we'll fight him.
Françoise, he's a powerful man.
I'm not going to let him win.
The sole purpose of this purported work of non-fiction, Monsieur le Président, is for a jilted lover to enact revenge on Picasso by smearing his reputation with lies.
Madame Gilot has simply portrayed Monsieur Picasso as she saw him, using her words, just as Picasso portrayed Madame Gilot as he saw her, using his brush! Hello, hello? Congratulations.
It's been a while since we last spoke.
It's been 10 years.
Well, you know me.
I only enjoy the company of winners.
Well, you did everything you possibly could to make me a loser, Pablo.
Yet still you persisted.
Did you read my book? I ended by thanking you.
What for? You taught me so much.
We have two beautiful children.
And you forced me to, learn to survive on my own, to find my voice.
I'll forever be grateful to you for that.
And I will always love you.
The surgeon will be right in.
You're losing your prostate, Pablo, not your life, hmm? It doesn't seem that way to me.
So, would you rather make love and die, or live and paint? Hmm.
Yes.
Turn him away.
I decide, I decide who comes in and out of my house.
Understood? Good.
I'm sorry, Claude, Monsieur Picasso is very busy at the moment.
The gardener is let in but I am not?! I have flown all the way from New York to see him, to introduce him to my girlfriend.
I'm sorry.
Who was at the gate? Just the gardener.
Hmm.
Look at all of our children.
They're so vibrant.
Have you heard from my children lately? Huh? They know I had surgery, right? You asked me to protect you so that you could work without distractions.
You don't have to protect me from my own family, Jacqueline.
All they want from you is your money, Pablo.
Hmm? I am the only one who truly loves you and cares about you.
Speaking of which, your lawyer called, asking about your will.
No, no, no.
We are not talking about this.
Pablo.
To prepare for death, no, no.
It's just, it's just, it's a death warrant in itself, and I'm not ready to die.
There is one thing, Guernica.
I want it to be displayed in Spain.
But only after that bastard Franco is rotting in his grave.
Hmm.
Yeah.
Why are you an artist? That's a big question, Dr.
Salk.
Oh, please.
Call me Jonas.
Well, I want my art to keep people curious.
I think it's tragic how adults lose their sense of wonder about the world.
Is that the idea behind modernism? What? I'm sorry.
This is the first time in a very long time I've had a conversation about my art without being asked about Picasso.
Well, I'm not here to meet Picasso.
Thank you.
Well, I hope we can do this again soon.
It's only fair to be direct about expectations.
Try me.
All right.
One: my art comes first.
Two: I won't sacrifice my ambitions for a man.
Three: I won't cook for a man.
Four: I won't clean up after a man.
And five: I, um, I need time to paint every day.
None of that's a problem for me.
Don't be difficult, Pablo.
It's the Louvre.
And you would be the first living artist ever to be exhibited.
The Louvre is for dead artists, and I am not dead yet! And I am certainly not finished painting.
Georges Pompidou.
What? He would be there.
I don't give a damn about the president of France.
I'm Spanish.
You go.
I have no interest in the past.
I only look forward.
I am tired of painting you.
I need someone new.
Yes.
There is no one else.
I am all you have left.
Look how happy they are.
It reminds me of Málaga, when my father took me to the bullfights.
Olé! I should have taken my sons here more and, uh, taught them the beauty of it all, just like my father did with me.
It's not too late.
I'm sure if you call them, they would love to come with you sometime.
Don't you miss them? You think I don't have a heart, don't you? Well, I think, uh, I think you're at a bullfight with your barber and not with your children.
Huh.
I love them, but if I ever made them more important than my art, I could never have accomplished anything.
I don't believe that for a second.
How would you know? You cut hair.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to say that.
No.
No, I'm proud of the work I do, but first I'm a father and a husband.
You are a good man, Arias.
Call them, Pablo.
Call them.
Hey.
Oh, Papa.
I'm so glad you came.
Yes, oh.
Hello Pablo.
Marie-Thérèse.
Mi niña, Maya.
Hey, Papa.
The last time I saw the two of you, you weren't much older than Olivier.
I can't believe you're a grandmother.
Neither can I.
Françoise.
It's lovely to see you again.
Oh, Paulo.
It's been far too long.
Son.
Dora.
You look so beautiful.
Are these your children? Paloma, meet Dora Maar.
It's a pleasure.
And this is Claude.
I've seen your work in New York.
I'm a photographer myself.
He has your eyes.
Careful.
They are dangerous weapons.
Everyone, let's make a toast.
Wait for us.
Olga.
Fernande.
And us.
Eva.
Carles.
Carles.
How are you, my friend? Pablo.
Pablo? We are not a traditional family, but we're a family nonetheless.
All bound by blood and love.
It warms my heart to see the man who has only looked forward his entire life taking a moment to look back, at what is truly important.
Perhaps in the end, we are your perfect painting, Pablo.
To Pablo.
To Pablo.
I'm here, my love.
I'm here.
What can I do for you? I need, I need What? I need, I n What do you need? I need paper, and charcoal.
Olé!