Santos Dumont

EPISODE 1 YOUNG SANTOS

Hey! Hey! There's no one in there!

Where's the train driver?

What's going on?

Hey! Hey!

Run! Run! It's going to crash!

Ready to unload!

For the love of God, kid! What are you doing there?

Get out, now!

-What kind of game is this? -Who says it's a game?

Who left this kid in there all by himself?

So, can I drive it alone now?

Happy now, Alberto? You're just ten. Ten!

I'm sorry, I just...

Just because I let you use the farm machinery

doesn't mean you can grab a train and drive it.

-I know, I screwed up. -Yes, you did. Big time.

But not that much. It was a perfect ride.

It was a perfect prank that could've ended tragically.

You were disrespectful to me and my staff.

My kids must set an example. Go home and wait for me.

We're not done yet.

Go!

You two, come here.

How could he do that?

I don't know, Dr. Henrique.

Platform number 4's supervisor must've left for a moment.

So who connected the second car and released the brakes?

He did! He did it all by himself!

You guys need to understand

there's a line that needs to be drawn

between serious work and these childish games.

Alberto crossed a line today.

-Sorry, Dad, I... -I don't want to hear it.

But... But Dad...

That's enough, Alberto.

You've already been a huge nuisance today.

-But... I didn't want to... -Quiet!

Go to your room and think about what you did.

And while you're at it,

thank God nothing worse happened to you.

After the fun comes the pain. Ignore them, Alberto.

EXTRAORDINARY VOYAGES FIVE WEEKS IN A BALLOON

Leave it there, Manoel. I'll have it later.

Come see this story.

Last time it was a train. Now it's a balloon?

What else are you up to?

First I need Dr. Fergusson's equipment.

Ferg... Who?

Fergusson, the British adventurer who explored Africa on a balloon,

in five weeks from coast to coast.

You need to nourish yourself to do that.

Only moths eat books.

When will Alberto wake up from his fantasy world?

It's high time he behaved like a young man,

going hunting and fishing, supervising the employees.

He's much more mature than other kids.

Yet he's too squeamish to kill a little bird.

Big cats, carnivorous plants.

Gosh, they found all of that during their journey.

Who are "they"?

Dr. Fergusson and his manservant, John Wilson.

And professional hunter, "Dick" Kennedy.

When my balloon is ready, will you be my John Wilson?

I think it's safer to keep my feet on the ground.

And you should think so too, after all the trouble you caused.

You starve if you're too squeamish to hunt.

Plus a jaguar can eat you.

Will it come back?

I'll put a bullet in its head if it ever comes back.

Stop it, Luiz!

Where do you think you are? In the jungle?

It's so nice to see someone studying like this.

I only understand the drawings.

Then we'll start with what you understand.

Sa-bi-á.

Listen up, Manoel, if we add an accent here,

sabiá becomes "a wise woman."

Remove the accent,

and it's the past imperfect tense of the verb to know, you know?

All I know is you need to have your supper,

and be left all alone as your dad ordered.

PARIS, FRANCE JULY 4th, 1898

He's insane, totally insane!

Who does that Brazilian think he is?

I had told him so! I had told him!

THE FRENCH AEROCLUB

Get me the Ministry of War! Hurry! It's urgent!

MINISTRY OF WAR

Colonel, the Brazilian's balloon has vanished.

It had been heading Southeast.

Damn!

Attention, all rural units.

Brazil, Santos Dumont's balloon,

has vanished, after being headed Southeast.

I repeat, Brazil, Santos Dumont's balloon, has vanished,

after being headed Southeast.

I'll have the first glass.

A toast to young Santos, Brazil's great inventor.

Cheers!

-Cheers! -Congratulations, sir.

Thank you.

That's him then? The man who's too scared to look at us,

is Paris' greatest explorer?

That's Brazil's own Alberto Santos Dumont,

and one of the founders of our flying club, The Aeroclub.

Yes, he's built a balloon six times smaller than average.

Can you just imagine? So small, a suitcase would do the trick.

To hold the balloon or the balloonist?

-Cheers, my friends. -Cheers.

Who are they?

Don't you make a living drawing faces?

Just those I find interesting.

Interesting, I don't know, but definitely necessary.

Colonel Chevalier.

Next to him, Mr. Charles Leroux,

secretary-general of the Aeroclub.

And those young men?

My balloon-flying friends.

You hardly see them in the sky. They'd rather go out at night.

That parvenu seems to be a little shy.

I would say the Brazilian is rather bold.

Whatever floats his boat.

The colonel means

that no personal whim can be placed above the Republic.

Definitely.

Balloon flying is far more than a petite bourgeoisie game.

A toast to Paris young women students.

-Hurrah for champagne. -Hurrah for Paris.

Hurrah for love!

-Hurrah for love! -Cheers.

Excuse me.

Do you know her?

No.

Mr. Santos Dumont?

Aída de Acosta. It's a pleasure to meet you.

Nice to meet you, Miss de Acosta.

Are you of Spanish descent?

Yes, Spanish mother, Cuban father.

But I was born in the USA.

Then I'm your American brother. I'm from Brazil.

And this is my friend, Sem.

Pleased to meet you, miss.

Likewise. But why don't we speak French?

Because of him? No, no.

An artist's sensitivity does away with any need for words, right?

I think that's quite enough.

I know and admire the great Sem's works.

At your service, Miss. Please.

-Please, have a seat. -Thank you.

And I can't wait to see you flying the skies in Paris.

Wonderful.

But tell me about yourself.

Me?

After graduating in New York,

I talked my parents into sending me to Paris,

arguing it would be a good "finishing school".

What other options did you have?

Getting married, having children,

leading the life imposed upon us, women.

For now, I only have my aunt in Paris to answer to.

Although we've followed different paths,

we have both arrived at the same place.

Odd for the three of us to have met here,

as neither one of us is originally from Paris.

On the contrary, this couldn't be more Parisian.

We're totally at home here.

So, the great caricaturist meets the green fairy again.

We each must fly with our own wings.

Green fairy of absinthe,

what message have you for me in this bottle?

Yet, some say Americans are extravagant.

I've never prayed to a fairy before taking a hallucinogen.

There's no mysticism here, just pure science.

See this blend of herbs and alcohol? One substance

will automatically enhance the effect of the other one.

That's what makes it such a bombshell.

But once the two different parts are separated...

We can fly even higher without losing control.

Losing control can be good sometimes, right?

I love new experiences.

What I mean is, there's a combination

that allows you to fly the balloon in total safety,

like nobody has ever been able to.

Hurrah for young Santos! Hurrah for Brazil!

Congratulations!

A cylindrical balloon?

It's very easy. I have all the figures here.

Let's see what you're up to now.

It's no secret, actually.

-What's this? -A propeller.

-And this? -Just an engine.

Just an engine?

If you came all the way here

to tell me you're going to resume Giffard's experiments,

I have bad news for you, they all failed.

Resuming those experiments on an obsolete steam engine,

that spits out sparks like fireworks?

No, certainly not.

So what do we use? An electric engine?