Tabu

---

presents

in co-producntion with

a film by

TABU:

Under the rain and scorching sun,

a melancholic creature

treks through jungles

and arid lands for months.

In the heart of the black contlnent,

neither beasts nor cannibals

seem to frighten

then intrepid explorer.

Followed by a contingent of men

carrying beads fabrics

and modern

scientlfic exmpedition tools.

The group includes in its ranks

His Majesty the King of Portugal,

or at least his will,

as expressed in a royal decree,

and He who is above

who all creatures call Creator,

and whose voice lives in the Bible.

But even if his legs move forward

by superior will

sovereign or divine

the heart, the most insolent

muscle of all anatomy,

dictates other reasons for the march.

Poor miserable man!

This whimsical organ

rules over both King and the Eternal.

So we here by reveal

the true law of this expedition

to roam the ends of the world

walking away from the land where he saw

his beloved wife perish,

as if he could ever stop death.

Intrepid he is,

but out of desperation.

Taciturn and melancholic,

the sad flgure wannders desolately

over thne inhospitable planes.

And by mysteries unknown,

he is visited from afar by the one

whom his heart begs for,

wearing

- oh morbid detail! -

the dress that hugged her

when she returned to dust.

You may run as far as you can,

for as long as you like,

but you will not escape your heart.

Then I will die.

You sad and poor soul.

A crocodile awaits its moment,

submerged in murky waters.

The intrepid explorer is well aware

he will meet his destiny in this river.

His men witness the horror.

The explorer bids farewell to life.

Night falls in the savannah,

as will a thousand and one more.

Then and ever since,

despite how absurd this may sound

to men of reason

some swear to have witnessed

this ghoulish sight:

a sad and melancholic crocodile

with a lady from days gone by,

an inseparable pair

united by a mysterious pact

never broken by death.

PART ONE.

A LOST PARADISE:

Let's go, Maya!

Hello.

Hi, Miss Aurora.

Yes.

All right.

OK.

Yes, Santa?

Miss Aurora called from the casino.

She has lost everything.

She has no money for the train.

Remember our conversation

a few months ago?

You told me

you wouldn't come back here.

My dear Pilar,

this time was different to the others.

Do you have any money left, Aurora?

No, dear. All gone.

So it was the same.

No, Pilar. It was different.

It was from a dream.

From a dream?

There were monkeys

with very hairy arms.

They were all fighting. Losts of them.

In the kitchen,

the living room, the bedroom...

All biting each other.

I even told them

to get out and be friends.

But all they wanted to do was bite.

What at nightmare!

I had to phone my daughter

to ask her to get me a lawyer.

And then I was somewhere else!

At the house of a friend

who died over ten years ago,

poor thing.

We were eating toast

with pumpkin jam delicious.

And one monkey could speak,

but sometimes

the monkey was her husband.

Thinking back,

her husband was a really hairy man.

When he pulled his sleeves up

you could see lots of hair.

Sometimes he was a monkey,

sometimes the husband.

I had to phone my daughter,

in case she came to visit

and saw only the biting monkeys.

To stop her from thinking

they had eaten me.

Then again... my daughter hardly

ever visits me anyway.

She can't, poor thing.

Especially now she's in Canada.

But you know what dreams are like.

We can't command them...

So the husband, or the monkey...

said he had made a fortune

on the machines at the casino,

in the old casino,

since the new one in rubbish.

The wife replied,

"Lucky at gambling, unlucky in love. "

And I thought she said that

because she was cheating on him.

She was dead,

so she was cheating on him

with the dead.

Even with some foreign celebrities.

The husband heard this

and was very sad.

I took the train with him

because I felt sorry for him.

I told him there were

other dedicated and honest women.

Like Our Lady.

When the ticket inspector came,

the husband pretended to be a monkey

and hung from the things

that people hold on to.

I had no ticket

so the inspector took me to get one,

but the ticket machine

was a casino betting machine.

I felt anxious in front of it,

the collector would say a colour,

I would bet the opposite

and always win.

Until I thought

maybe he was telling the truth.

And I had to decide

if I bet what he said,

or the opposite, or take the money.

I woke up before the end

and decided I had to come here

to see if I was lucky

I am such a fool:

people's lives are not like dreams.

But if I hadn't come

I'd still he wondering...

Are you mad at me, Santa?

What a dismal day.

The forecast was rain.

Nonsense...

I won't eat all these prawns, Santa.

I'll be alone for dinner, after all.

The Polish girl isn't coming.

They're for you and Miss Aurora.

We've already had dinner.

They'll go to waste.

I've kept lots.

Thank you, Miss Pilar.

How I decided to travel the world:

I was born in York in 1632...

...to a good family.

After becoming a rich man,

my father retired from business

and settled down in this town.

He had married my mother...

It is thought...

...to be a hideout...

...of the Moors...

...of the Moors and Romans.

This here was a passage

to the castle of Torres Novas.

All I'm telling you

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