Genius (2017) s02e07 Episode Script

Picasso-Chapter Seven

1 PICASSO: Previously on Genius PABLITO: My horse doesn't look real, Papa.
Not like your pigeons.
I want to paint like you.
JOSÉ: Then I will teach you, Pablito.
PABLO: I am going to be a great artist one day, Papa.
You were meant to be a teacher.
KAHNWEILER: May I introduce Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque, the founders of the Cubist Movement.
FERNANDE: Pablo is always with Braque.
MAX: Despair, my dear, is a readily treatable affliction.
PABLO: What are you doing? FERNANDE: You don't know how lonely I feel.
PABLO: I worked hard to get here, and I am not going to let you or anyone else make a mess of it.
ROSENBERG: The Nazis have labeled every bit of it as degenerate.
What do you suppose they do to degenerates? SERT: Franco has Hitler and the Nazis on his side, Pablo.
We need you on ours.
PABLITO: I made a vow to God if he let Conchita live, I would give up painting.
God knew I could never keep my promise.
So he took her.
PICASSO: I've been thinking that we should create something together.
Let's make a baby.
(theme music playing) GAILLARD: Can you tell our readers in your own words why you joined the Communist Party? PICASSO: All my life, I, I've used line and color to try to penetrate deeper, to understand the world and, uh, and man.
Art has been my weapon.
And I have fought in my own way like a true revolutionary.
But during the horrors of the Nazi occupation, I-I felt that that wasn't enough anymore, that I had to fight the Fascism not only with painting but uh, with my whole being.
BRAQUE: It's radical, isn't it? I thought of your still life, the one you applied the oil cloth to.
And I thought, what if I used wallpaper? PABLO: The wallpaper, it, it, it is itself and stands for itself.
You build up the illusion and call attention to it.
It's, oh it's brilliant.
BRAQUE: I proposed to Marcelle last week.
PABLO: Congratulations.
BRAQUE: You don't approve.
PABLO: Of course I do.
Marcelle is wonderful.
BRAQUE: And yet your dark eyes flicker with doubt.
PABLO: You've just created something completely new.
You work when you want, how you want.
Don't you worry having a wife and a family will interfere with that? BRAQUE: Flaubert said, "be regular and orderly in your life, so you can be violent and creative in your work.
" BRAQUE: I intend to have the most regular, orderly family imaginable.
PABLO: I would love to have children.
BRAQUE: Well, then you should get married too.
PABLO: Fernande is anything but regular and orderly.
BRAQUE: I didn't mean Fernande.
It is time to grow up.
Find yourself a suitable wife, settle down.
PABLO: Collage breaks all the rules.
You can use anything you want on the canvas.
Dirt and sand, wood.
Or paper that looks like wood.
We can bring everyday objects in, too.
A strip of newspaper, or wallpaper.
FERNANDE: He spent all weekend shopping for wallpapers.
PABLO: It is difficult to find ones that are ordinary enough to evoke everyday life.
LOUIS: You cannot just stick anything on a canvas and call it art.
PABLO: Why not? LOUIS: Then the idea of art becomes meaningless.
EVA: I think it sounds exciting.
I'd love to see one of your collages, Pablo.
LOUIS: Eva, you know I love you, but you're a terrible art critic.
You have no visual or spatial sense.
FERNANDE: Eva has the best taste of any woman I know.
Look at this home.
It's beautiful just like she is.
She even sewed the curtains.
PABLO: Well, you're very talented.
Fernande has never even sewn a button.
She just throws the shirt out and buys another one.
EVA: What's going on with you and Pablo? You seem irritated with him.
FERNANDE: All he ever talks about is work.
EVA: You don't realize how lucky you are.
Louis is never excited about anything.
At least Pablo is passionate.
FERNANDE: For his art.
Not for me.
EVA: I thought you two spend most of your time together in bed.
FERNANDE: Not anymore.
EVA: I had a dream I left Louis.
I ran out of the house but I had nowhere to go.
FERNANDE: Can I ask you a favor? If the topic comes up with Pablo, will you say that you and I are going for dinner together tomorrow? EVA: Why? PABLO: Eva.
EVA: You said you were having problems finding the right wallpaper for your collages, so I brought a roll of old ones I had in the closet.
Thank you.
Come in.
Fernande is out to dinner with some friends.
I thought you were going.
EVA: I, I changed my mind.
They're nothing special.
PABLO: They're perfect.
This was very kind of you, Eva.
EVA: Well, you've always been very kind to me.
PABLO: You belong in a Vermeer.
EVA: Don't I belong in a Picasso? PABLO: I would love to paint you some time.
EVA: Will you have a drink with me? Wine or something? PABLO: Why didn't you go to dinner? EVA: I don't like that Italian painter Oppi.
I heard he was going to be there.
PABLO: I don't really know him.
Why don't you like him? EVA: Pablo, can I ask you something? PABLO: You just did.
EVA: What if you found out that, that a friend of yours was lying to his lover? Would you tell? PABLO: Lying about what? EVA: A-About having an affair.
PABLO: What business is that of mine? EVA: I should go.
PABLO: Is it this Oppi character? EVA: I'm so sorry, Pablo.
I didn't know if I should tell, but I found out she was (birds squawking) MARCEL: Guess who is awake? FRANÇOISE: How is he this morning? MARCEL: The same as every day.
He wants you.
FRANÇOISE: Will you watch Claude for me? - Mm-hmm.
- Mommy FRANÇOISE: You don't want to get up.
PICASSO: Oh, Françoise.
The more I live, the more I die.
Todo es nada.
FRANÇOISE: Well, you're not dead yet.
PICASSO: My stomach bother all night.
It's, it's probably a tumor.
Gutman says you are perfectly healthy.
PICASSO: No, no.
Gutman doesn't care if I live or die as long as he gets his first edition! FRANÇOISE: Even so, the day is waiting.
PICASSO: Well, now I understand why they execute condemned men at dawn.
You know, the light is so hideous, just uh, f-force you to stare at it is, my, my head it spins and makes me dizzy and-and FRANÇOISE: You'll feel better once you start working.
Well maybe you are maybe you are right.
What would I do without you? FRANÇOISE: Besides you have to get up, an old friend is coming to visit.
PICASSO: "First World Congress of Intellectuals for Peace.
" I'm not an intellectual.
PAUL: Of course you are.
And your presence would send a message to the world.
PICASSO: I am not a French citizen.
I-I can't get a passport.
PAUL: The Poles will grant you a visa.
PICASSO: I'll issue a statement.
I stand for life a, against, uh, death.
And I stand for peace against, uh, war.
Something like that.
PAUL: It's not enough.
PICASSO: I give interviews.
I pose for photos.
I live humbly since I joined the party.
PAUL: Pablo, it's not simply a Que PICASSO: I can't go to Warsaw.
I have too much work to do.
Besides, I, I, I couldn't leave Françoise alone with the baby, not in her condition.
PAUL: When you joined the party, you said your art was a weapon.
Hmm? That you were a true revolutionary.
And now you're staying here to what? Be a nursemaid? Huh? That is how you are going to fight Fascism? PICASSO: Don't talk to me about Fascism.
When the Nazis came to Paris and everyone else ran away, I stayed.
PAUL: And that was brave, Pablo.
But the world is different now.
The Fascists don't have to be on your doorstep to threaten you.
A single bomb can destroy an entire city.
The next war could annihilate us all.
If you care about your family, their future, you'll come to the conference.
People idolize you.
Inspire them to take on the cause of world peace.
LAMAZE: It's dangerous to ignore this.
FRANÇOISE: Will it affect the baby? DR.
LAMAZE: We can usually bring the pressure down with medication.
PICASSO: Be direct for God's sake.
LAMAZE: This can be very dangerous for Françoise and the baby.
I want you to be seen three times a week at the hospital.
PABLO: No, no, no, no.
No hospital.
You come to us.
I'll pay for it.
LAMAZE: She needs to be monitored properly.
That cannot be done here.
FRANÇOISE: I thought you weren't going.
PICASSO: Paul convinced me that I am not doing enough for the Party.
FRANÇOISE: Maybe I'll actually get some painting done without you here to bother me.
PICASSO: Don't, don't worry, Th, the doctor will look after you.
And so will Claude.
Yeah, you will look after Mommy, won't you? FRANÇOISE: How long will you be gone? PICASSO: Just, uh, one week.
EVA: This week has been perfect.
PABLO: We can keep the house for the rest of the summer if you want.
FERNANDE: Pablo! PABLO: You shouldn't have come here.
FERNANDE: Is she here? PABLO: You know that she is.
FERNANDE: Pablo, why are you doing this? PABLO: Why did you go to bed with Oppi? FERNANDE: I was just so lonely.
You are always busy with your work.
And it was like you couldn't see me, even when I was right there.
But it was a mistake.
PABLO: And you don't think mistakes come with any consequences? FERNANDE: So this is what? Revenge? PABLO: Maybe it was.
FERNANDE: I know, I understand.
You're right, Pablo.
I deserved it.
Now come home.
Come home, we can go back to the way things were.
PABLO: No, we can't, we can't.
PABLO: I love her, Fernande.
FERNANDE: But she's so conventional.
PABLO: No, everything with her is easy.
With you, everything is hard.
FERNANDE: Pablo, I can change.
PABLO: No, she's not bitter.
Or spiteful.
She wants to take care of me.
FERNANDE: I can take care of you.
PABLO: No, you can't.
But you should try to take care of yourself.
FERNANDE: You would make me think there's something wrong with me.
But maybe it's you.
You broke every promise you ever made me and you'll do the same to her.
You couldn't even keep your vow to God when your sister was dying because your art is always more important.
PABLO: I don't want to fight with you.
Not anymore.
FERNANDE: I never thought I would be able to love anyone, Pablo.
But I loved you.
I hope she makes you happy.
PRIEST: Requiem aeternam dona ei et Lux perpetua luceat ei MARIA: Your father would want you to have it.
PABLO: All these years, I should have come to visit.
MARIA: No, don't torment yourself.
You were the pride of his life.
PABLO: And in return I was ashamed of him.
MARIA: Pablo.
Your father knew that everything you did, you did for your art.
Does this new girl understand that? PABLO: Yes, she does.
MARIA: Then don't wait, Pablo.
Marry her, start a family.
What could bring you more happiness? AUCTIONEER: 6,000 francs is bid, thank you, sir.
Can I hear 6,500? I have 6,500 francs.
Can I hear 7,000? I have 7,000 francs.
Thank you, sir.
Can I hear 7,500? KAHNWEILER: Congratulations, you just sold the most expensive painting in history.
PABLO: Jesus, how much? KAHNWEILER: 12,650 francs.
That is twice what anyone has ever paid for a Matisse.
MAX: "Amazing prices were paid for the works of undesirable foreigners.
" I think that the journalist was talking about Pablo, the dirty Spaniard! "And it was the Germans who pushed up the prices.
" He's referring to you, Kahnweiler, and all the other dirty Krauts who are ruining France! APOLLINAIRE: Forget that rag, Max.
They love Pablo in America! MAX: Oh, yay! I will drink to that! ALICE: Oh, you will drink to anything.
MAX: Gertrude! Your girlfriend already has me figured out.
GERTRUDE: No, darling Max, the nationalists are nothing to joke about.
They're trying to stir up a war with Germany.
KAHNWEILER: There's not going to be a war, Gertrude.
PABLO: I did not invite you all here to talk about politics.
BRAQUE: Yes, we are here to celebrate the sale of the Harlequins.
APOLLINAIRE: How Harlequin magically grows MAX: Oh! Ah, oh! (coughing).
I am a mess.
Not like you.
You tied it all up in a pretty little bow, didn't you? Hmm? You got rid of Fernande, you stole Pablo and now he's filthy rich.
PABLO: What did you say? MAX: Oh, a poem! A poem for the unmarried lady of the fancy new house, "The Gold Digger of Montparnasse.
" PABLO: You are a disgrace.
APOLLINAIRE: He's drunk, Pablo.
He does not mean it.
MAX: Oh, no, I didn't, I did not mean to offend all of you undesirable foreigners.
PABLO: Get out! Get out.
I should have thrashed him.
EVA: He had too much to drink and Fernande is his friend.
I understand why he's upset.
PABLO: You're too good, Eva.
EVA: Hmm.
PABLO: He insulted you.
EVA: He wasn't entirely wrong.
I am the "unmarried lady of the house," after all.
PABLO: I could change that.
EVA: No, I wasn't trying PABLO: No, I love you, ma Jolie, more than I have ever loved anyone in my life.
I want to, to write your name in all my works.
I want to have a family with you.
EVA: I'll be back in a moment, darling.
(coughing and gasping).
BRAQUE: Drive to Nice tonight, Pablo.
Apollinaire will still be there.
You can enlist together.
PABLO: If I go to Nice, it will be to stop him.
I wish I could stop you.
BRAQUE: What do you want? German occupation and domination? PABLO: We are artists, not soldiers.
Painting won't save France from the German military machine.
I'm not even French, Georges, I'm Spanish.
BRAQUE: And what has France done for you? Given you a home where you're free to paint whatever you want, love whoever you want.
France has made you a rich man.
PABLO: So to show my gratitude, I should run across a field and bury my bayonet in another man's belly? BRAQUE: If that is what it takes, yes.
PABLO: You are blinded by nationalism, Georges.
This war is not for France, it is-it is not for freedom.
BRAQUE: Coward.
PABLO: It is for imperialists and bankers! BANKER: I just need one more signature, Monsieur Picasso.
EVA: 100,000 francs? Why are you withdrawing so much money? PABLO: So if this horrible war causes the bank to fail, I can take care of you and the beautiful babies we are going to have.
Are you feeling all right? EVA: It's just a tickle.
PICASSO: I want to make Mademoiselle Gilot a signatory on my accounts.
BANKER: I'll just prepare the documents.
FRANÇOISE: Is this really necessary? PICASSO: How else would you be able to get the money if the plane crashes on the way to Poland? FRANÇOISE: If you're so afraid of flying, Pablo, don't go.
Claude doesn't want anyone else but you tucking him in.
PICASSO: Look, this is serious, Françoise.
I have never trusted anyone else to handle my money before.
FRANÇOISE: And all these years I thought you were in love with me because I'm an artist.
But it turns out what you needed was a bookkeeper.
And a maid and a secretary.
PICASSO: Oh, Françoise.
FRANÇOISE: Perhaps His Lordship would at least allow me to hire a nanny? PICASSO: You know how that would look to the Party.
You know, a nanny is a, is um, a bourgeois indulgence.
It's, it's FRANÇOISE: Of course.
Comrade Picasso.
PICASSO: Do you think the pilot knows what to do in case that there is some problems? FRANÇOISE: The plane is not going to crash, Pablo.
PICASSO: How can this monstrous bird possibly stay in the air? MARCEL: Hundreds of planes fly every day all over the world.
Why do you think the only one you've ever been on is going to crash? PAUL: Just take a deep breath and look out the window, Pablo.
It's beautiful.
PICASSO: It's all squares and rectangles.
A Cubist painting.
I got it right.
I got it right.
MAX: Pablo.
I had a vision.
Jesus appeared to me.
PABLO: Were you smoking opium? MAX: No.
No, it was real.
It was a message.
I must atone for my sins, all of them, for being a-a deviant, a mean drunk, I treated Eva so terribly.
You owe her an apology.
MAX: Of course.
But, apologies are not enough.
I need to do something more with my life.
The army wouldn't take me, so I, I cannot fight.
And, um, well, I will never have a family.
You'll always be family to me.
MAX: Do you mean that? Truly? Because I need you to help me do something.
PRIEST: Ego Te baptizo in Nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.
PABLO: So now I'm Max's Godfather.
Before I am even a real father, I have a son who is 38 years old! GERTRUDE: And a Jewish son to boot! PABLO: Well, he's not Jewish anymore.
ALICE: And what about the two of you? When are you going to get married and have some actual children? EVA: I want to wait until this wretched war is over.
PABLO: And I keep telling her war is the best time to make babies.
An antidote to death.
EVA: The soup is delicious.
GERTRUDE: The lights, quickly.
(sirens) PABLO: Under the table.
DELEGATE: To Picasso! DELEGATES: Picasso! Na zdrowie! Na zdrowie.
PICASSO: It is an honor to be here.
LVOVICH: They say Americans will stop buying your works now that you're a Communist.
PICASSO: We will see.
LVOVICH: It's a small price to pay, I suppose, for the richest painter in the world.
PICASSO: Do you know my work? LVOVICH: Yes.
And I wonder, why do you continue to paint in bourgeois impressionist-surrealist style? DAIX: Please.
Be respectful.
PICASSO: Impressionist-surrealist? If you are going to denigrate me, at least use the correct terms, and insult me for Cubism.
LVOVICH: Where do your paintings hang, Comrade Picasso? In rich people's homes.
Who else can afford them? PICASSO: You are not the first to tell me my work does not conform to someone else's idea of what it should be.
LVOVICH: And why don't you paint in simpler, more clearly understood symbolism? PICASSO: If I were a shoemaker, would I have to hammer my shoes a special way just to show my politics? LVOVICH: Your work is not Communist.
PICASSO: I am a Communist.
If I make a painting, it's a Communist painting.
LVOVICH: Men ennoble themselves by working for the common good, not to enrich themselves.
Your painting is decadent, Comrade.
PICASSO: The Nazis called it "degenerate.
" You are exactly the same.
So now I am not Communist enough? Hmm! Did you listen to those bastards who condemn me for joining the Party? PAUL: Who cares what he thinks? PICASSO: Marcel, we are going back to Paris.
- Please, Comrade Picasso, don't DAIX: Forget Lvovich, he's small-minded and doesn't understand what we're trying to do.
PAUL: Pablo, you remember Pierre Daix, the writer.
DAIX: Please, if you'll permit me, I'd like to show you what we are fighting against.
Arbeit Macht Frei.
Work makes you free.
A great lie, of course.
There was no freedom.
Not for political prisoners like me.
Not for homosexuals.
And certainly not for the Jews.
Those who didn't die on the journey were separated as soon as they arrived.
Babies ripped from mothers' arms, the strong sent to work.
The weak to the showers.
Another lie, of course.
No water poured from these pipes, only poison gas snaking down from the ceiling.
Naked people, shivering, humiliated, crammed shoulder to shoulder, women, men, tiny children, their screams ending only when the vapor stole their voices, choking the life out of them.
PABLO: This miserable war.
Will it ever end? GERTRUDE: If you hate the war so much, why don't you stop belly-aching and actually do something about it? PABLO: What can I do? ALICE: Gertrude and I are driving supplies to local hospitals.
EVA: That's wonderful.
GERTRUDE: It's not enough to declare yourself a pacifist, Pablo.
You have a very loud voice and an obligation to make it heard.
PABLO: I am not a politician.
GERTRUDE: No, but you are one of the most famous artists in Europe.
Use your art to speak out against the war.
PABLO: Art should not be political.
GERTRUDE: Well that's a very principled position and a convenient one, isn't it? You get to do nothing and still feel morally superior to everyone else.
PAUL: You say your art is a weapon.
So use it to speak out against these atrocities.
DAIX: Comrade Eluard is right.
The Nazis may be gone, but Franco still rules your beloved Spain.
Fascism is not dead.
And our Party is dedicated to fighting it.
To make sure that this never happens again.
PAUL: Paint a peace symbol, Pablo.
For the Party conference in Paris.
FRANÇOISE: Oh-oh! It's from Papa.
ALICE: I'm sorry it wasn't a more pleasant evening, we'll have more fun next time.
EVA: Nonsense, there's no one we'd rather hide under a table with than the two PABLO: Eva? What's wrong? What's wrong? (coughing and gasping).
DOCTOR: You have lung cancer.
I'm sorry.
PABLO: How do we treat it? DOCTOR: We will do everything we can to make you comfortable.
PICASSO: Papa's home! Oh.
Aren't you glad to see me? FRANÇOISE: You said you'd be gone one week, it's been three.
PICASSO: Didn't you get my telegrams? FRANÇOISE: You mean the ones addressed to "Madame Picasso"? You couldn't be bothered to send them, so you what? Had Marcel write them? How dare you abandon me.
PICASSO: You are exaggerating, Françoise.
FRANÇOISE: Then you didn't just leave me alone, sick and pregnant to care for a baby for almost a month? PICASSO: I was doing something important.
Something much bigger than taking care of one baby.
FRANÇOISE: So now it's not only your art that comes before your family, it's politics as well.
PICASSO: I was in a country ravaged by bombs, misery and death.
Talking with leaders of the world about how to stop war.
FRANÇOISE: You're right.
My concerns are trivial.
Accounts, baths, doctor's visits, laundry, vomit.
PICASSO: How difficult has it really been for you? Were you starving? Were you beaten and-and worked to death? Was Claude ripped from your arms by Nazis? FRANÇOISE: So unless I'm a victim of Nazi war crimes, my concerns don't matter? You were the one who wanted children, Pablo.
And I agreed.
But I didn't agree to give up my work so I could cater to all your needs.
PICASSO: I'm sorry, my love.
You can't imagine what I saw.
We can't live with blinders on, fixated on our little family, shut off from the struggles of the rest of the world.
We, we have to do more for others.
FRANÇOISE: That is a very noble sentiment, Pablo.
But is it really why you went? PICASSO: What do you mean? FRANÇOISE: I mean maybe you're just bored.
Maybe you want to get away from us, maybe you don't like me turning into a giant bump again.
PICASSO: You have never been so beautiful to me.
But you are right.
I did want to get away.
When Lamaze said you were sick, that you have to go and see doctors in the hospital, I, I had an urge to run.
And it's terrible, I know.
But suddenly I thought, maybe it was happening again.
FRANÇOISE: What was happening again? EVA: I'm so tired.
PABLO: I know, my love.
But don't be discouraged.
You're going to be home soon.
EVA: Pablo, I won't be coming home.
PABLO: Of course you will.
We're going to get married and have babies.
EVA: Pablo.
You will get married and you will have a family.
But not with me.
PABLO: You're not thinking clearly.
It's the morphine.
You're going to get well soon.
And I'm coming every day to sit with you until you do.
EVA: It's a long train ride to make so often, Pablo.
PABLO: I don't mind.
Because at the end of it there is you.
EVA: You're very sweet.
But now I need to rest.
You should go home.
COCTEAU: Monsieur Picasso.
I, I'm Jean Cocteau.
I'm a great admirer of yours.
Um, I'm about to leave for the front, I was hoping you would paint my portrait, it's for my mother.
PABLO: The woman I love is dying.
You think I want to paint your goddamn portrait? COCTEAU: I'm sorry, I'm (explosion) (singing in French).
MEDIC: We need a stretcher.
This one's alive.
(singing in French).
My fiancé's at the front.
Why aren't you? PABLO: I don't believe in war.
GABY: What about you? You must have someone else, too.
GABY: How do I look? PABLO: Like I could paint you for the rest of my life.
GABY: Here.
Lace me up.
PABLO: Marry me.
GABY: I have a fiancé.
And you just lost the woman you love.
PABLO: I want to give you everything.
Paintings, children.
GABY: I know you're in pain, but this isn't the answer.
I'm sorry, Pablo.
I can't.
BRAQUE: The doctors want to drill into my skull to relieve the pressure.
But they don't know if it will give me my sight back.
PABLO: I'm sure it will.
BRAQUE: Marcelle says the same.
She's so innocent.
She still wants a family.
PABLO: You'll have beautiful children.
BRAQUE: Every night I dream about leaving the trench.
As soon as I'm over the top, my fear turns to terror.
My nose fills with Sulphur.
I taste metal on the roof of my mouth.
She'll never understand and neither will you.
PABLO: No, I, I don't suppose I could.
BRAQUE: You stayed at home painting and now I may never be able to paint again.
PABLO: Braque is right.
I hid in my studio while the rest of you suffered.
I am so sorry, Guillaume.
APOLLINAIRE: You were right not to go, Pablo.
Artists should create, not destroy.
PABLO: But what have I created? Not even a child.
Only pretty pictures for Eva and Gaby.
I should have at least tried to create something to tell the world how I feel about this wretched war.
MARIE: We heard you donated a million francs to the striking miners! What a magnanimous gesture.
PAUL: You're becoming quite the philanthropist, Pablo.
MARIE: And now, you're doing the art for the Paris peace conference as well.
What will you paint? PICASSO: I don't know yet.
PAUL: Marie's trying to get me to attend.
FRANÇOISE: You should go.
Paul Robeson is coming from America.
PAUL: Hmm.
FRANÇOISE: Do you know him? PAUL: The singer? FRANÇOISE: His father was a runaway slave.
He and Pablo have been corresponding.
PAUL: Marie and I were thinking, with all the causes you have been taking up, perhaps you would donate a few painting to our little Museum in Antibes.
PICASSO: Oh, your museum is a cause now? MARIE: Art is its own cause, is it not? PICASSO: You cater to rich tourists.
MARIE: Well, I suppose, but, a gift from you would really help us.
PAUL: Perhaps I can help you in return.
We heard you got trouble traveling to Poland because you don't have a passport.
I still have friends in the Conseil des Ministres who could secure French citizenship for you.
PICASSO: First you demand a gift then you want me to change my nationality? I'm Spanish.
I represent Spain in exile.
PAUL: Pablo, I do not mean PICASSO: And as long as a Fascist dictator rules over my people, I will stand in solidarity with them.
MARIE: Françoise, people are staring.
PICASSO: And what gives you the right to ask for my paintings? Do you think I paint them for you? What do you think an artist is? An idiot who paints to decorate the walls of museums? And why have you stopped eating? Food here isn't good enough for you? MARIE: Françoise! FRANÇOISE: Don't look at me.
I agree with him.
PICASSO: Thank you for taking my side.
FRANÇOISE: We are allies, Pablo.
PICASSO: In Warsaw, a Soviet donkey told me I should make art with a more easily understood symbolism.
FRANÇOISE: I'm sure you appreciated his suggestion.
PICASSO: Even if I agree with it, I wouldn't know how.
I mean, I, sense, I see, I paint.
The next day even I, I, I don't know how I have done it.
I need a universal symbol, but I can't find it except instinctively and, and unconsciously.
FRANÇOISE: If you want something instinctive, go back to the beginning.
PICASSO: My beginning was picadors and pigeons.
Then start there.
PABLITO: My horse doesn't look real, Papa.
I want to paint like you.
JOSÉ: I will teach you, Pablito.
PABLITO: My horse doesn't look like your pigeon PABLO: You have taught me all I need to know.
PAUL: A pigeon? PICASSO: A dove.
Paloma in Spanish.
My father bred them.
PAUL: Honestly, I was expecting a worker holding a hammer or someone laying down his sword.
PICASSO: Too literal.
But the Bible does tell beautiful stories.
Like the Paloma bringing an olive branch to Noah after the flood.
PAUL: Yes.
To symbolize that God had made peace with mankind.
It's beautiful, Pablo.
And it's also hideous.
One day, my father brought home a baby bird.
And I saw a pair of doves peck it to death.
Now how is that for a symbol of peace? PAUL: I don't understand you.
PICASSO: Art is the lie that tells the truth.
Don't try to understand.
You have to feel.
And I hope this dove makes people feel.
The truth.
That we are capable of the most horrible violence.
Which is why we must fight so hard against it.
FRANÇOISE: It feels as though the baby is fighting me.
It wants to stay, but I want it out.
LAMAZE: I agree.
It's time to induce labor.
I'll call Pablo.
The last place he wants to be is a hospital.
It would upset him.
LAMAZE: Françoise, this is his child, too.
FRANÇOISE: But he's at the Peace Conference.
It's important.
LAMAZE: More important than his family? (crowd gasps).
LAMAZE: Push, push, push.
Ready? Now, push.
PAUL: I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night Alive as you and me Says I but Joe, you're ten years dead I never died says he I never died says he Says he PICASSO: Hey.
Are you all right? FRANÇOISE: Oh.
PICASSO: Oh, oh, oh! FRANÇOISE: Look at her.
PICASSO: She's a work of art.
FRANÇOISE: And we made her.
PICASSO: Paloma.
We will call her Paloma.
FRANÇOISE: Now that's a lovely name.
PICASSO: That way we can be sure.
FRANÇOISE: Sure of what? PICASSO: That we will always have peace in our family.
Oh! (music playing through credits)
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