“See, he's gone. All his stuff's gone.”
The repeated gone lands like a door closing: he is absent, and so is everything he owned.
Informal
Chapter 6 of 22 · 2'13"
Two people find a room emptied out and a set of numbered cards left behind. Reading them aloud, they discover the story of Juan Apagato, a young man who drifts through his days and does as little as possible. "I guess that means all of us," one of them says.
The Postcards Left Behind
All His Days Are About the Same
Entering a room that has been emptied out, two people find only a stack of numbered cards with writing on the back. The cards tell the story of Juan Apagato, who quit college, wants an easy job, seldom sees his housemates, and sleeps until noon. The last card promises a sequel.
The scene is a portrait of a generation written on the backs of postcards. Juan Apagato is not one person but a type: he quits whatever takes effort, wants work that does not involve work, and lets his days run together. The cards are funny because they are so specific — he cannot remember which grandparent died, and he plans to put his finger in a fan — and sad for the same reason. The line that lands is a small one: "I guess that means all of us." Everything before it sounds like a joke about a stranger, and that sentence turns it into a mirror. The closing promise of a sequel, with Juan joining a terrorist group and returning with homemade nuclear weapons, is the punchline: the only future the story can imagine is an absurd escalation.
A1–C2 is the CEFR scale. Cards above the level you pick fade, and playback will not auto-pause on them.
“See, he's gone. All his stuff's gone.”
The repeated gone lands like a door closing: he is absent, and so is everything he owned.
Informal
“I guess that means all of us.”
One throwaway guess turns a stranger's card into a mirror for everyone in the room.
Informal
“They're numbered. It's like a little story or something.”
Calling the cards a little story makes a stranger's notes feel like a serial.
Informal
“"All his days are about the same.”
One flat sentence captures a life of identical days, and that is exactly the point.
Neutral
Up next · 07same old, same oldThe scene: Stephanie Returns from DallasA numbered story about Juan Apagato. Each card describes part of his life: quitting college, looking for easy work, avoiding his family, and sleeping late every day.
Because the story is not just about a stranger. The habits it describes, such as doing as little as possible and drifting through the days, feel familiar to the people reading.
The subject of the postcards. He seems to be the man who left the room, and the cards tell his story in numbered episodes as if he were a character in a series.
The final card sets up a sequel: Juan joins a European terrorist group and returns to the US with homemade nuclear weapons. It never happens, which is the joke.
They read it through and take it in without much comment; the response is simply that it is interesting, which is the film's deadpan way of ending the scene.