The Resort (2022) s01e04 Episode Script

A History of Forgetting

1
What brings you two to Akumal?
It's our ten year anniversary.
Holy shit. [screams]
This phone belonged to Sam Lawford
who went missing 15 years ago.
[gasps] Holy shit.
Violet Thompson
was also reported missing.
Baltasar Frías,
who was our prime suspect.
But the storm washed everything away
before I got any evidence.
Em, you should see this.
Which means that that's the pent
[gasps] That's Sam and Violet!

- [gasps, screams]
- Whoa, whoa, whoa!
I met a guy.
We have a date tonight.
[chuckles]
I found your board.
What skateboard?
- Hey!
- [grunts]
[gasps] Sam?

Man, Creepy Santa
keeps getting creepier.
[elevator dings] Oh, shit.
[whispering] That's Baltasar Frías.
He's got the phone.

[yelps]
- [phone buzzing]
- No!
[yelps]
[indistinct shouting]
- [phone buzzing]
- No!
[clattering]
[grunting]
[tense music]
[grunting]

What are you doing?
I figured we could, like,
lock him in a closet or something.
- No, no, no, no, no.
- We can't just leave him here.
Why not? He's clearly not dead.
What were you even thinking?
I couldn't let him take the phone.
So you tried to kill him?
- He's fine.
- [moans]
Oh!
- [whispers] The phone rang.
- Did you see that?
What what what are you
even talking about
- The phone rang.
- Right now?
- [screaming]
- Ah, fuck! Fuck.
- It's okay. It's okay.
- It's okay. It's okay.
[grunts] [panting]
What an unusual turn of events.
What are you doing here?
Well, I heard you found the phone.
Who told you that?
An old friend.
Oh, Luna.
- Yeah, where is
- Where is the phone now?
It's in a million pieces
at the bottom of the fucking
elevator shaft because of you.
No, the impulse to destroy it
came from you.
Hey, maybe you should sit down, man.
- I'm okay.
- Sit the fuck down!
- But, Em, chill out.
- What?
We don't know what he's going to do.
He's acting like a loose cannon.
Yeah, well, you have the weapon,
and I have not provoked you in any way.
What did you do to Sam and Violet?
You you think
I did something to them?
- Yeah.
- Why?
'Cause you had Sam's skateboard,
and because I know about
you and your family.
And that's all of your evidence?
[chuckles] Let me
Let me tell you something.
I come from a family of tailors, hmm?
Not murderers.
So if this is where
your investigation has led you,
I'm not sure you're capable of
believing the true story, hmm?
[panting] What are your names?
Okay, don't tell me.
Are you guys married?
- Mm-hmm.
- Yeah, oh, okay.
I think it's time to go.
You you seem good.
This all seems to be
a big misunderstanding, so
Well, maybe, maybe we can
understand it together, no?
What's the true story?
[sighs]
What happened to Sam and Violet
is just one thread in a tapestry
of interconnected stories.
[sighs]
Everything comes back
to the Oceana Vista
and the tragic demise
of its misunderstood owner,
Alexander Vasilakis.
No one knew exactly
where Alex came from.
One rumor was that he just wandered
out of the jungle one day
with only a dream of opening a resort.
A more accepted rumor
was that he was born
in a family of hedge fund managers,
and then he stole a yacht
and moved to Quintana Roo
to start his own path.
Alex possessed a profound human insight
and belief in the potential of others.
But let me be clear.
This man was not a brilliant man.
You into metaphysical shit, man?
I am not sure what you mean.
Good answer.
Sit.
Yes.
And you are Baltasar Peniche?
- Yes, sir. Yes.
- It sounds made-up.
So you are applying for
Any job.
I heard you were hiring all positions.
- Bold move
- Or the move of a fickle man
who doesn't know what he wants,
so what exactly do you want?
Like, in life, or
Because I get this feeling
like you're running from something,
rather than running towards it.
Let's go to the beach.
So why here, Peniche? Why this resort?
Because you're hiring?
That's true. Thanks for the honesty.
Yeah, we're hiring.
But it's more of a factory
where we mass produce
the single most precious thing
that humans are capable of.
- Hm. Children.
- No, no, no, memories.
- Oh. Yeah.
- Memories.
Memories can be bad, too, no?
Thumb wrestle. Let's do it.
One, two, three, four.
I declare a thumb war.
You're not even trying.
What are you doing?
Okay, okay, I know, I know.
Okay. If you win, you get the job.
One, two, three, four.
I declare a thumb war.
All right, rapid fire.
What is your first memory
of joy, motherfucker?
- Um, I don't know, sir.
- Try.
- I've had a complicated life.
- Okay, cool, me too.
Everyone does.
But it all starts from joy.
The first memory is joy, and
everything springs from that.
- So what the fuck is it?
- Uh, reading.
- I like reading, sir.
- Terrible reader over here.
What are we reading?
- Detective novels.
- Why detective novels?
Because my father gave me
those when I was a kid.
Okay, you and your father were close?
Come on! Don't stop!
The reason I like detective novels, sir,
is because I understand them.
They raise questions
that always have answers.
They try to answer both
the mystery of a crime
- and the mystery of life.
- Ah, come on!
- And I like the characters!
- Which characters?
- The detectives, sir!
- Why the detectives?
Because they're obsessed and alone
and they're home is on the edge
of the void of hopelessness.
That's why you like detectives?
That is so fucking weird, Peniche.
They want to do the right thing,
even if that kills them.
It's for a greater good.
You think it's gonna kill you?
I don't know! I don't know, sir!
Ah! Ah!
I don't know! I don't know!
- Do you feel alone?
- Yes!
Is there a world
in which joy and loneliness
- can exist in harmony?
- Yeah, sometimes!
But do you want to be alone, Peniche?
- Do you want to be alone?
- No, I don't want to be alone!
I don't want to be alone!
Then what do you want to be, Peniche?
I want to be a detective, sir!
[both panting]
Then be one, you son of a bitch.
[chuckles]
We became fast friends.
Alex personally hired every employee
of theirs in the vista,
each one a lost soul
running from their past.
We had Edwin,
a glass cutter from Honduras
heading concierge.
[radio clicks] [speaking Spanish]
Patricia, a runaway nun from Tampico
on my security team.
Abigail, an actual fugitive
from Puerto Rico,
chief landscaper.
She was arrested for stealing
and then crashing
the governor's helicopter.
But most dear to me was Luna,
who lost her family in a car accident.
She became my sister.
So then began
what vacationers referred to
as the sandcastle days.
And whatever sprung from
the odd garden of Alex's mind
found its way into the fabric
of the Oceana Vista.
[laughs] Ah!
[phone ringing]
He used to call me at dawn
and leave me messages
about dreams he had.
We were singing
"Happy Birthday" in my dream.
And before it was over,
I saw that your head
was a crumpled piece of paper, man!
What the hell do you think that means?
Oh, my God, oh, my God,
oh, my God, oh, my God!
I did not mention my past as a Frías,
and he didn't ask.
He always looked ahead.
[fireworks booming] all: Whoa!
Aww.
Alex wanted to create
memories for our guests,
but in doing so, he created
a home for his employees.
- [farts]
- Oh, what the fuck, Alex?
- He just farted here.
- [laughs]
The fuck is wrong with you?
[speaking Spanish]
But are we made only of memories?
All: Oceana Vista!
- Whoo!
- Let's see.
[applause]
I fucked it up.
All right, one more time.
- Okay.
- Ah!
All right, tres, dos, uno!
All: Oceana Vista!
[camera shutter snaps]
- Yeah!
- Whoo!
[applause]
Five years. Five.
- [together] Five!
- Whoo!
The Oceana Vista is a manifestation
of a dream, of a memory haven.
Uh
I love, uh
The
[eerie music]

[mumbling]
- [music stops]
- Are you okay, Alex?
Uh
What?
What?
Stop fucking looking at me!
Alex!
[waves crashing]
[sighs]
How are you doing, my friend?
You ever feel like
something from the past
is missing from the future?
I have memory leakage.
Hmm, yeah.
Sometimes I forget things, too.
I found that writing notes
to myself helps a lot.
- Post-its.
- No, you don't understand.
I have memory leakage.
- Leakage?
- Yeah, from my ears.
This is a condition called
Tempus Exhaurire.
From my ears, from my ass
Everywhere.
I've never heard of Tempus Ex
Is that some kind of amnesia?
I want to show you something.
[mellow music]

It's my attempt to
preserve my memories.
What do you mean?
- People, places
- All my memories documented.
The hippocampus,
it's the brain's pantry.
We need to keep it stocked.

I'm beginning to lose the sense
of who I am, Baltasar.
I need your help to pick up the pieces.
I don't trust anyone else.
My appetite makes no sense.
I have a primal hatred of iguanas
I just don't understand.
And I'm I just want to be a kid again.
And I
I don't remember my family.
Well, maybe we should
at least tell Luna?
No, it's just
No one will understand.
I do not understand, Alex.
You will someday, though.
I don't know. Um
This is really fucked up.
Maybe if we ask for help
or talk to a doctor
or if you change your diet,
you know, take some medication.
I know you're a Frías.

I knew the moment I met you.
You have the fucking
bone structure of a Frías.
And nobody wakes up dressed like you.
But then your brother Alonso
came to the resort
offering me the deal of the century
on Frías-sewn uniforms if I fired you.
It was a shakedown.
Ask me what I told him.
What did you say to him?
I told him "Fuck the fuck off."

No more secrets between us.
We're all we have. I need you.
Right?
I'm I'm here for you.
I'm sorry.
That's when I knew Alex's
condition would be a problem.
The leak became a flood.
It affected the resort.
Renovations started, but never finished.
Bills went unpaid.
He turned on the staff,
accusing them of stealing
to him, lying to him.
Memory leakage.
Yeah, memory leakage.
I never thought Alex was capable of
being a dangerous man, but
Then came the iguanas.
I had to honor my friend's secret,
but I was asking myself, why?
[tense music]
Over the course of that year,
he retreated to his penthouse,
a recluse, unraveling,
until it all wove together on Christmas.
[dramatic music playing over radio]
[mumbles]
[indistinct chatter]
I am a galactic activation portal.
Enter me. [door handle clicking]
Are you okay, jefe?
A little disappointed.
Yeah? Late night?
I could have been. I don't know.
I'm having a real problem
figuring out
What happened to your hands, man?
When.
Yeah, we need to get
you out of here, okay?
- Do you need some help?
- Fuck. Yeah.
There you go.
So I've been thinking
I thought forever it was, like
Yeah. We need to wash these hands.
- But then I was like, it's
- Yeah, yeah.
But now I'm like [hissing]
All good, man. All good.
What the hell? Is it Christmas?
Yeah, it was yesterday.
- Really?
- Yeah.
Okay.
Um, listen, we need
to address the iguanas.
It's beginning to disturb the staff.
I guess it sounds nuts,
but I think I was killed
by a fucking dinosaur in my past life.
Really? That's very interesting.
- What the hell?
- This way.
Excuse me, sir. Excuse me.
Question, if this hurricane
does change its course,
is that something that you
have safety protocols for?
Uh, it's highly unlikely to occur,
but yes, we have a shelter
being prepared in case we need it.
You'll need it.
That hurricane is headed
straight for us.
Mm-kay. [elevator pad beeps]
I wanted to help my friend,
but a security matter required
my immediate attention.
I'm Detective Baltasar Peniche. [knocks]
Good morning, sir.
I am Detective Baltasar Peniche,
head of security.
I'm here to help you find your son.
- Yes, yes.
- Is that Sam?
- Who is that?
- No, no.
It's a security guy.
It was my biggest case.
I'd only dealt with petty
theft and marital disputes,
never a missing person.
God's sake.
Do you happen to have a photo
of Sam that I can see?
- Uh, yeah, I may have one.
- Let me just check.
- Where's his passport?
- Yeah.
You know, I don't have one on me,
but, um, I could describe him.
Yes, please.
Well, he's very handsome.
That's not what he's looking for.
No, no, that that that works.
That's very helpful.
He is he's attractive.
Do we need to call the police?
No, Jan.
He's probably just dicking
around somewhere, right?
I mean, you must deal with this
kind of thing all the time.
Well, um,
I promise I will find him, hm?
- I'm going to call him again.
- Yeah.
80 bucks a month,
he should answer the darn phone.
Yeah, it went to message.
Come on, Sammy. Come on.
Sam, we got you this phone
so you'd answer it when we call you.
So, uh, call me.
You can talk to us.
Uh, this is Dad.
What do you mean by that? Hm?
What do you mean when you say,
"You can talk to us"?
Nothing. We're his parents.
He can he can talk to us.
Both: Don't lie to us, Carl.
I caught him looking
at a picture of a penis
on the way over on the plane.
What? How do you know?
I know what a penis looks like, Jan.
Someone texted it to him.
What? both: Hey.
Uh, any luck?
Uh, no, he's not anywhere by the beach
or anywhere around the pool.
Excuse me, señorita, can I ask you
for a photo of Sam that I can see?
Yeah.
Was that photo of his own
penis or someone else's penis?
Oh, my God!
- Well, I don't know.
- It could have been Sam's.
It could have been someone else's.
I don't know what's worse.
I don't know which I'd rather it be.
It might have been a little small.
- Oh.
- Maybe a little big for Sam.
[laughs] I um
oh, I don't know.
- Just stop.
- What do you think?
- Hmm?
- Were you two having problems?
- No.
- No?
No. God, no.
No, we've been together forever.
And I'm here on vacation
with his family.
And, you know, we're always talking
about marriage, you know?
He's saying, "I want to marry you."
And what do you say to him
about marriage?
Yeah, yeah no, yeah, I mean, it's
Well, 'cause we have a lot of time.
We're young. But we've been together
It's like, it could
I don't know what you guys
are staring at.
What are you thinking?
I was surprised when
I saw it on his phone, okay?
I was surprised.
I didn't immediately go,
- "Jan, look, a penis."
- Don't lie to me.
Maybe the penis was,
like, an art channel.
Is this your your son?
- Sí.
- Yeah.
Can I keep this?
Yeah, mm-hmm.
[exhales heavily]
Oh. Hello again, Mr. Thompson.
I am Detective Baltasar Peniche,
Oceana Vista head of security.
- Oh.
- Can I come in?
- Yeah, sure.
- Yeah?
Did you enjoy the mezcal?
Uh, well, I finished it.
Ah.
Listen, I was wondering if
I could speak to your daughter?
Um, what is this about?
Another guest is trying
to locate their son,
and your daughter was the last person
- Hey, Vi?
- [knocking on door]
He was seen with.
[foreboding music]
Oh.
Oh, no.
Where is she?

[keypad beeps, door clicks]
Alex?
[grimaces]
Alex?
Ah, fuck.

Just emptying out what's left.
[scoffs]
What is "pasaje"?
That one's important.
I don't know why,
but it must have been important once
'cause it's right there.
This fucking thing.
I'm thinking this mural is actually more
about the Oceana Vista's memory, right?
Not just my memory,
but the Oceana Vista's memory.
Two kids are missing.
And you were the last one to see them.
What?
They came to your room last night.
- No.
- Yes.
No. That's not right.
Wait, what?
What do you remember from last night?
Uh, last night.
You're really torturing me
with a question like that.
What the fuck?
Uh
- We went dancing.
- Uh-huh.
- It was the Christmas party.
- Yes.
- Gotcha.
- What else?
Soy pasaje. What?
- Hey, Alex.
- What?
- What do you remember?
- I don't know.
- You don't know.
- What do you remember?
Okay. Uh, okay, who is this?
- Luna.
- Uh-huh.
- And this?
- Some guy with a hat?
Yeah, I guess.
Um, who is this?
- Oliver.
- And this?
- That's you, dummy.
- Yeah, who am I?
Baltasar Peniche Frías,
head of security and my best friend.
Everything is fine, man.
I'm really I actually am okay.
Oh, man.
Alex, who who are these two?
- That, I don't know.
- You don't know.
What what were you doing
in your car this morning?
Because you had blood on your hands.
Where were you coming from?
- You don't know?
- I don't know.
Mm-hmm.

Hey, look at me and listen.
Yeah, these two were at the party.
And you had an altercation with them.
- No.
- Yes.
And then they ran into your elevator
and got off on your floor.
And five minutes after that,
you did the same.
So I need you to tell me
what happened next, please.
I'm calling bullshit.
- This is a fuck hunt.
- Fuck off.
[indistinct muttering]
What did you do, Alex?
- What did you do?
- What did I do?
I don't know. What did you do?
- Well, what did I do?
- Tell me what the fuck I did!
I'm telling you I don't remember!
Try to remember something, please.
Because if you put them there,
there must be something up there
- There's nothing in here, man!
- Okay, try to remember.
It's empty!
[tense music]
Jesus!
What did you do, Alex?
[skateboard wheels rattle]
Wait, where where did you get that?
I've had this since I was a kid.
No, you haven't.
This is Sam's. The missing boy.
Look the other way one last time.
You and me, this resort
This is the family
we always wanted, right?
Right?
The hurricane's gonna come.
Everyone's gonna forget about this.
This never even happened.
Come on, B.
[liquor pouring] This isn't the end.
The second half is a heartbreaker, man.
Come on.
[vacuum whirring]
[soft dramatic music]

[wind whooshing]
[thunder rumbling]
[dramatic music]

Alex!

Is it the end or the beginning?
[inhales]

[uneasy music]
[gasps]
Alex!
Alex!
The next morning,
before the police
could even get involved,
the hurricane changed its course,
just as Alex said it would.
My sweet friend, I can see your face,
but I can't remember your name.
But thanks for your time ♪
Then you can thank me for mine ♪
Seems like we're finally
at the end of the line.
I got to say it sucks.
That's said, forget it ♪
My mind, my memory,
it's just an empty space,
where I find myself completely alone.
No reason why you should
stay here lying to me ♪
Alone and afraid that I can't remember
any of the things you were
afraid I might have done.
Don't say anymore,
just walk out the door ♪
You asked me if I remembered
the kids in my room.
I tried to remember myself as a kid
falling in love for the first time.
But, um, I can't remember a thing.
Then you can thank me for mine ♪
So if I can't remember love,
then what's the point?
That's said, forget it ♪

If there was a word,
but magic's absurd ♪
I'd make one dream come true ♪
Whatever did happen last night,
I hope that either everyone
can forgive me
But don't ever doubt how I felt ♪
Or forget me.
About you ♪

But thanks for your time ♪
Then you can ♪
Have you ever seen the green ray?
It's the first ray of the rising sun.
[thunder rumbles]
If you blink, you'll miss it.

[wind howling]
- [farts]
- [laughs] Baltasar.
[thunder crashing]
[speaks Spanish, laughs]
I thought you two would be gone by now.
[thunder rumbles]
I have nowhere to go.
Me neither.
Me neither.
What's that smell?
[wind whooshing]
[structures crashing, shattering]
[screams]
[wind whooshing]
[uneasy music]

After the hurricane,
the police finally investigated.
But by that moment,
any real evidence was destroyed.
They found the skateboard.
Well, it led to nothing.
My mother Beatriz got involved,
and I never said a word about Alex.
They would never understand.
Then I came back to El Caracol
to be a Frías again,
but that place never felt like home.
Maybe we are not meant to have one, hmm?
The sad truth is that
if you cut the head off an iguana,
it will die.
[laughs] Okay.
So so you lied to the police,
- to the
- The parents.
The parents, to everyone,
to protect a guy who said
that his memory was leaking
out of his fucking ears?
- Come on!
- This is a crime scene.
- Oh, this is something, yes.
- This is all a crime scene.
Wait, wait, hey, hey, hey,
hey, hey, hey, hey, listen.
I'm almost, almost done, yes?
I spent a year
studying this mural, looking for a clue.
Just emptying out what's left.
[gentle music]
I could tell he wasn't there.
He was lost in a different time.
I saw his memory drain.
But maybe this was different.
Maybe this was the memory
of the Oceana Vista
or maybe something else.
[sighs] But no.
This was not the work of a man
with any profound insight
into the human condition.
These was the meaningless scribbles
of a crazy person.
So I made a mistake.
I was looking for an answer
where there was none.
But today,
I realize
I was wrong.
- [object clatters]
- [gasps]
Holy shit.
Uno, dos, tres.
[upbeat Latin music]

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