Did you like it?
You want more
Come here.
Asshole!
- Hi. - Hi, Peter.
What was that?
Stop!
I need at least one
- to take home. - You want some?
Come on, let him try.
Have a seat.
Two lollies.
Thank you.
Hey, give it here.
Hey, Machuca. Come and get it.
Forget it. I'll buy you another.
Listen to your girlfriend. Women know best.
They're in love! They're in love!
Peter, you want it?
Come and suck it.
Let go of him!
You disappoint me.
You all disappoint me.
What kind of arrogance
has gotten into you?
Look at yourselves.
Please!
You.
You insist on acting like
an animal.
It's all about you
and only you.
And the others?
Don't they count?
Hasn't this school taught you anything?
And you.
you.
You think you can gain their respect with you fists?
Tell me.
What will you do after you hit your classmate?
Will you strangle him until he can't breathe?
Until he's dead?
And then what?
Will you eat him?
And you. What's so funny?
That's enough.
- Your glass. - Not the kids, Patricio.
Why not? They need to learn.
Otherwise they lose control.
That's enough.
When I was a baby, they'd dip my pacifier in wine.
That kept me quiet.
- Really? - Yeah.
Dad, will you be traveling more often?
A bit more often.
Especially to Rome. The FAO office is there.
- What language do they speak there? - Italian, dummy.
Why?
He wants the Lone Ranger.
So?
- And you want a Neil Diamond record. - Yeah, please, Dad.
- It's... - So you want me to turn smuggler.
- It has a blue cover and... - I could use a pair of new shoes.
- Really? - Really.
Let's all move to Italy.
What?
Let's move to Rome.
I could easily get a transfer.
Considering the situation here...
It's not all that bad, but...
We'd be better off there. I'd be making dollars.
Socialism may be best for Chile, but not for us.
Well, not yet.
- I mean it, let's move! - Yeah, Mama. It would be fun.
You don't even speak Italian.
Who cares?
- What do you say? - Come on, Mama!
Mama! Mama!
What is it?
- What? - There are people outside.
They're hunting dogs and killing them!
Calm down! It's all right. There's no danger.
Go watch TV.
Go on.
Your mama'll be right out.
CIVIL WAR
Gonzalo, I hope you have money for the movies.
I won't pay for you.
- Of course I do. - When I have money,
I won't spend it on stupid things.
I'll open a shop. I'm sick of selling
- in the street. - I want to be a priest.
Like Father McEnroe.
A priest? What for?
To help people. Especially the poor.
You mean to help yourself. For the cash.
What about you, Gonzalo?
I don't know. Maybe a priest, also.
See? That's two of us.
Are you crazy? You two don't even go to church.
So? What does that matter?
It doesn't? You know who a priest marries?
Priests don't marry. - Yes they do.
God. And forget about sex. You guys are too horny for that.
Look who's talking! You're the horny one!
Come on, run!
I want to show you something wonderful!
What a boring movie!
Gonzalo, look.
Gonzalo.
Look over here, man.
Stop reading that. It's bullshit.
And you can't even dance.
White men and Indians are never friends.
Sure they are. It's possible.
- What do you want? - Where's the money?
- There's none left. - Where's the rest?
Hold it, stay there.
Come here.
- Give me that! - Let go!
Let go! Let go!
Shame on you! Pushing me around like that!
Who's that?
A friend.
A friend, right.
Some friends you have.
Know where your friend will be in 5 years?
Starting college.
And you'll be cleaning toilets.
In ten years, your friend here
will be working at his daddy's company.
And you'll still be cleaning toilets.
In 15 years, your friend will own his daddy's company.
And you? Take a guess.
You'll still be cleaning toilets.
Some friend.
He won't even remember your name by then.
- Your friend. - I think you better leave.
- Your friend. - At this rate,
you'll just get drunker and drunker
and in two years you'll be dead.
Don't you dare touch her!
Let go of her!
Leave!
Go find some booze.
Your friend better go home.
Go on, kiddo. Go home.
You, go find your father.
Mama!
Go on, do as I say. Be a good boy.
Kids and drunks don't lie, do they?
Sometimes they do.
We praise you, oh, Lord.
Dear parents,
I'd like to take a break from the Gospel
to discuss
what is happening
here at the school.
Father, I'd like to say something.
The recent violent behavior at the school
is unacceptable. My son gets in fights every day. The new kids
are constantly
provoking our children.
Father. To a certain extent, we're all responsible for what's happening.
Silence, please. In my opinion,
the blame rests with you,
Father.
You're trying to brainwash our children by mixing them
with people they don't need to know.
You're manipulating them, and we won't stand for it.
All parents were informed in advance
about the measures the school intended to take.
Those who don't like the school can leave the school.
Why don't you leave, you communist priest!
Hold on, wait a second.
The father represents the sentiment of a considerable group here.
Those of us who want equal opportunity
and a democratic education for our children.
Go on, clap. Father, this madness
will bankrupt the school.
We'll soon have returns from the farm
managed by the students.
That will cover the small deficit we're operating under.
Father, you know I donated 30 pigs to your farm.
Pigs I brought from my own farm, which the communists want to steal from me.
I heard the pigs are dying because they're not receiving vaccinations!
These things happen.
It's part of the process
your children are going through.
Excuse me, Father, for turning my back on you...
Look, I don't think this is a good thing.
This sort of paternalism, frankly,
because people don't want
to receive things...
for free, without having done something to deserve them.
- We've earned everything we have! - They're hard-working people!
Paternalism is what you're doing, speaking for others as if they couldn't!
I speak on behalf of
a great majority of people.
Father, what's the whole idea of mixing pears and apples?
I'd like to know why it is you try so hard...
Let me finish. Why mix pears and apples?
I'm not saying we're better or worse, just different.
When I was a child...
I lived on a farm
next to San Nicolas.
My father took care of the cattle.
If something happened to an animal,
it was docked from our food at the end of the month.
The reason didn't matter.
My father was always to blame.
I came here to Santiago
when I was 15...
because I didn't want my children to be blamed for everything.
But I can see things here are the same.
Everything is always our fault.
That's just how it is.
No one will blame you for not changing.
Sometimes I ask myself,
when will things change?
When will we dare to do things differently?
That's my opinion.
Save your bitterness! Get the hell out of here!
Get these Marxists out of here!
Nationalists! - Present!
National Front, freedom and country!
Nationalists! - Present!
National Front, freedom and country!
Nationalists! - Present!
National Front, freedom and country!
National Party flags!
Chilean flags!
Flags!
Flags...
SOCIALIST PARTY
Communists, bastards!
Living off the state!
Communists, bastards!
Living off the state!
Maria Luisa.
- Why come if you're not protesting? - Come on, make some noise.
Okay, that's why I came.
Living off the state!
Communists, bastards!
Living off the state!
Here.
Hey, you have to pay!
Pay me, you asshole!
Pay me, you shithead!
Who do you think you are?
Up yours, motherfucker!
Pablo, hi.
What are you doing here? What if Patricio saw you?
I'm married, not retarded.
You didn't bring my daughter, I hope.
No, of course not. See you.
Who do you think you are?
What was that?
She spat on your car.
Hey, you little bitch! Clean it up!
What's your problem, you fucking snob?
Look what you did, you scumbag!
Fuck you, snob!
Calm down. She's just a kid.
She's just a kid!
Hey!
You fucking little bitch!
Fuck you, snob!
I was sticking up for you, you little shit!
Go back to your shantytown!
You're all fucking snobs!
Go home, you scumbag!
You fucking lowlife!
Your mama didn't look happy.
That was your mama?
Was that your mama?
Answer me.
Your mama is a real shitbag.
The whore.
Fucking snob.
Cocksucker.
Whore.
Whore, whore,
Where were you? Let's get out of here!
What are you doing?
Are you crazy?
They're all dead, Father.
They were sick.
- Pack some sweaters, please. - Which ones?
All of them.
- Why? It's summer in Europe. - End of summer.
All of them.
Don't, give me that. A little girl smoking...
Let her smoke, she's old enough.
- Just one. - Fine.
- Your ties? - Yes.
What are you looking for?
The camera.
Are you taking it with you?
Of course, it's a trip. Rome, Italy, the Vatican...
I won't be working the whole time.
4th drawer, you put it there yourself.
You mean the 2nd.
The 4th, in back.
- Shall I close it? - Yes.
Careful, careful...
Not so hard, asshole!
- What? - You bit me, man!
I didn't mean it. - Yeah, sure.
A kiss of mine'll make it better.
Better my ass, you jerk!
- Get off me! - You ruined it for both of us!
You shithead! Why'd you go
and bite her?
What have you got in your mouth? A razor blade?
Learn how to kiss, carrot head.
Don't tease the snob, he might start crying.
Give me my bike back.
Don't be stupid.
Give it back! Give it back!
- Thanks for the bike! - No, give it back, shit!
Give it back! Come on, give it back!
Give it back!
Fucking rabble! Sons of bitches!
What did you say?
My mother isn't a bitch.
Go on, hit me. Hit me.
My little boy.
Stop seeing that old fucker.
...bravely risking his own life, the second person to enter the room
as shots rang from inside the palace,
stray bullets flying everywhere.
Apparently the gun was
a gift given by Fidel Castro directly to the President.
It is the gun he used to kill himself.
The inscription, "To Salvador, from your brother in arms, Fidel Castro."
Where exactly did you find it?
It was in Mr. Allende's hand when we entered his office.
Hello, Mama? Yes.
When will you be back?
But Mama...
Bye.
the armed forces have restored order,
with unanimous support, after having endured three years of
the Marxist cancer.
Eat your sandwich and drink your milk
No, thanks.
- Was Mama all right? - Looks like it.
both moral and social,
which could no longer be tolerated.
The armed forces and order itself
today have responded,
driven purely by patriotic duty and nothing else,
to save the country from the unyielding chaos
of Salvador Allende's Marxist government.
Move on, faster.
Hurry up.
Go on, keep moving.
Faster.
Faster, keep moving.
You, over there.
Inside.
Let go of me!
You, inside.
You, smart-ass!
What are you doing to the children?
This is not a barracks!
This is humiliating!
Go on, keep moving.
Army bastards! Go back
to the barracks!
- You okay? - What do you care?
Good morning, boys.
Ma'am. - Good morning.
Mrs. Gilda,
you left this in the Teacher's Lounge.
Thank you very much.
Boys,
I'm Colonel Sotomayor,
the new Principal of the school
As you all know,
strange things have been going on here at the school.
Inappropriate things.
We're here to fix that.
To put everything in order.
So that once and for all, you can devote yourselves to your studies
and nothing else.
As far as the students who don't pay,
they should be advised
that we don't want lazy people here,
nor criminals of any kind.
So we're gonna do a little house cleaning.
As you can see, the priests are gone.
And they should be forgotten.
Which means if rumors about them continue to circulate,
I'll assume you're the source.
Is that clear?
Yes.
Good.
Hang this in back for everyone to see.
The following students...
Hamilton,
Kucevic, Orellana,
Vildosola
and Parraguez,
gather your things and go to the office.
Right now?
Yes, darling. Right now.
- Where are they going? - They're expelled, stupid.
Remember, Lord, your Church spread across the land,
Pope John Paul,
and especially our honorable government the Junta.
Let your light guide them as they rebuild
this torn country.
This place is not sacred anymore.
The Lord
is no longer here.
Teachers, have the students return to their classrooms.
Mama?
Come in.
How was school?
Fine. Where's Mama?
She went out. She'll be back later.
And my sister?
She isn't back yet.
Go get changed.
I don't want the laundry to pile up.
I'll make you a snack.
Get out here, you fucking communist!
Fucking military! Bastards!
No, Juana! Stay out of this!
- Stay back! - Shut up!
Can't you see I have a baby?
You like flags, asshole? Go on, eat them!
Hold this bitch!
Leave her alone, you fucking bastards!
Dad!
Shut up!
Everyone to the truck! To the truck!
Turn around, you piece of shit!
Eat it, you fucker!
Shut up, bitch!
Turn around, you scumbag!
Get down, you fuck! Hold it right there!
All the women in the truck!
Turn the fuck around!
Turn around, dammit!
Where do you think you're going?
No! I don't live here. I have nothing to do with it.
- I live across the river. - Don't lie to me.
Get moving! - I don't live here!
Look at me!
Go on, scram.
You're supposed to die!
- Hi, Lucy. - Hi, Gonzalo.
...with a friend. We were eating fries and everything spilled.
On the table. And they snubbed us..
No, don't step on the carpet!
Over there, please.
Through that door.
Hi, sweetie.
You okay?
Are you happy?
I'll be right back.
FIFA TELLS THE WORLD THAT LIFE IN CHILE IS NORMAL
Thanks.
In memory of Father Gerardo Whelan,
Principal of Saint George's School in Santiago from 1969 to 1973.