All language subtitles for That.Kind.of.Summer.2022.FRENCH.1080p_English

My name is Mathilde Esposito.

And I'm the founder
of this project.

You're here
of your own free will.

You're not here for a cure.

As we've said,

you are not forbidden any
sexual thoughts or behaviour here.

You are not sick.

All right, girls?

Once again,
my name is Sami Mansour.

I'm a social worker
and specialized educator.

But first, I'm Sami.

This is my second retreat.

I'm here to make
your stay run smoothly.

For your security.

I'm not a doctor or a therapist.

I'm here to assist Ms. Brodbeck.

Why am I here?

That's an excellent question.

First off, because I need a job.
Simple as that.

But more seriously,

I work in Montréal.

In a youth centre.

I also work with the psychiatry
department at the university.

I like people.

I have confidence in people.

That's it, I have no more secrets.

Time may drag on a bit.

Halfway through,
you get a 24-hour leave.

One day, one night,
wherever you want.

But 26 days can feel long.

Why 26?

Take your feet
off the sofa please.

30 is too much, 23 not enough?

30 is too much, 23 isn't enough.

I hope this stay will allow you
to take a well-deserved rest.

Allow you to think about something
other than your sexual issues.

There'll be a lot of introspection.

And testimonials, if you want.

You may even go further
than with your sex therapists.

Or not.

For obvious reasons,

Octavia Brodbeck
will be replacing me this summer.

Octavia is from Germany.

She'll write the reports
to be given to your therapists.

They'll go through it all
with you later.

This is a journey, not a treatment.

There is no judgment here.

See it as a vacation

from the chaos
that is probably your life.

Yes Léonie?
Do you disagree?

No, it's cool.

"The chaos that is probably
your life." I like that.

We want you to have
a fulfilling stay.

Away from others
and from temptation.

From people who marginalize you

and from
anxiety-provoking situations.

We seek to induce a shift
in your obsessions.

Ultimately,
you can't do that in 26 days.

You need to find a way to be,
other than through sex.

This is an exploratory approach.

The idea is for you
to shine differently,

to awaken other types
of stimulation.

To be honest, the need
for this approach is debatable.

We could be wrong,

but I think this retreat
will end up paying off.

For you,

and for us.

You're not reacting much.

That's normal.

We had four girls
with us last year.

Wonderful women.

No doubt very different from you.

Sami has basic knowledge
concerning sexual therapy...

Sure, sure.

Thank you, Mathilde.

A reminder of the house rules.

Telephone access
for 90 minutes a day.

You eat breakfast on your own.

Lunch is from noon to 1pm.

And supper we eat together
whenever possible,

around 7:30 or 8.

Drugs.

Drugs.

Obviously not advisable here.

But I'm not a narc.

Alcohol, yes.

There'll be a bottle or two
in the house.

That's allowed.

Octavia, you're not talking?

Eugénie, we'll have lots of time
to get acquainted, okay?

So, on behalf
of Ms. Esposito and Sami,

and of the universities
of Montréal and Düsseldorf,

thank you ladies
so much for trusting us.

Eugénie, want to go for a walk?

It's nice here.

Very nice.

Who owns the house?

The university.

What's it like in Germany?

It's okay.

Not a bad start, eh?

I think so.

We could do the same thing
with Düsseldorf.

Your university
is better equipped than ours.

Yes of course, but watch out.

The sexual problems of Germans
that are quite serious.

Twenty-six days
with hypersexuals.

Impure thoughts,
nocturnal emissions.

You okay with that?

What do you think?

I love those expressions,
we should bring them back.

"Impure thoughts."

I'm curious to see
how you're going to react to this.

We don't agree on everything.

But that's not crucial, right?

What would you be pleased to read
in my notes at the end?

Are you here to please me?

No, of course not.

But you created this experiment.

To be honest,
I'd love to be doing it this year.

But you're accomplishing
something else.

Yeah.

You're still an assistant prof
in Germany.

A successful stint here
and you could be given tenure.

Who told you that?

That's not how it works
in Germany.

You know you were by far
the best candidate.

And I'd like this project
to last five, 10, 25 years.

You won't be disappointed.

I know.

Sami?

Sami?

Yes, Gaëlle?

I wanna talk to you.

Are you there?

I need a clear invitation
before I come in, Gaëlle.

Please come here,
you may enter my room.

Call me Geisha, okay?
Everybody does.

Okay.

Why Geisha?

Think about it.
Gaëlle Champlain... Gei-sha.

Indeed.

You wanted to talk?

What's Octavia like?

Very relaxed.

I like her already.

Oh yeah?

Not like that.

She's very serious.

Very focused.
Very German, really.

What do we do
to make her happy in the end?

- You aim to please?
- No.

Last year, Mathilde often said

that sexual issues

are frequently the result
of a low sense of self-esteem.

I guess Octavia will work
with those kinds of things.

I never said
I didn't like myself.

That's possible.
I don't know your case file.

My case file...

I'm here on vacation.

For the nice accommodations.

I got tired of sucking dick in town.

When I'm working,

I always wear dark wigs.

Jet black.

I earn twice as much that way.

I don't get why
men love that look.

Leather, vinyl, chokers,
black lipstick, fishnet stockings.

Why do you think?

I dunno.

Do you think
it's a submissive look?

Do you think it's dirty?

Not in my eyes.

What does that look do for you?

I don't think I should be
talking about this with you, Geisha.

Leading them around
by the tips of their cocks.

You like the power,
you know what you're doing.

And you get paid.

Take me in your arms.

You know that's not allowed.

You like your room?

You're pleased?

What?

Nothing, get outta here.

Men have paid
$300 an hour for me.

Lots of men.

I'm offering you a freebie.

Lots of nice vacuums at that price
for your wife.

Your little wife.

I look forward to getting
to know you in other ways than this.

Are you okay?

Do you need anything?

My stomach hurts.

Something you ate?

Did you bring pads?
Need a tampon?

What are you reading?

I found this in English.

It's full of weird stories
of violence and fucking and popes.

Popes?

Yeah, all the shitty, dirty stuff
that popes have done.

A dude named Paul II died
of watermelon indigestion.

But rumour has it he really died
of a heart attack during a gay orgy.

That's sick!

Don't you use suntan lotion?

No, I never burn.

The sun doesn't like me.

It's good for Eugénie
to be here, eh?

Why do you say that?

It shows.

The lady loves to drink.

I noticed.

Is she a heavy case?

Paraphilia, spectacular imagination,
intrusive thoughts.

All the anxieties.

The works.

She was masturbating earlier.

How do you know?

No, I don't eavesdrop!

She was noisy
and I was walking by.

You're writing that down?

That's my job.

I complimented her on her teeth.

A sincere, innocent comment,
and boom.

Right away she starts
telling me about

her appointments at the dentist
or denturist or something.

She didn't pay a cent
for any of it.

Every time,
there was a sexual encounter.

Sometimes a three-way
with the dental hygienist.

She let it all out
with no shame.

Not even asking herself
if it made sense,

or if I was interested
or embarrassed.

What do you do when
you hear that kind of stuff?

I discreetly write it down.

It's a balancing act,
making them talk without triggering.

I listen, I'm always
asking questions.

But I need you.
I've only got two eyes and ears.

Of course you need me.

How was it last year,
with Mathilde?

Like this.

But she is her and you are you.

Did she say anything?

She trusts me.

Every morning
he'd read his paper.

Eat breakfast
without looking at me.

He'd eat four, five
scrambled eggs with lots of ketchup.

I remember he ate badly.

He'd always be dropping bits.

All over the paper,
like he was doing it on purpose.

You watched him?

I found it disgusting,
but yeah, I liked watching him.

How old were you?

All of a sudden,
he'd decide it was enough.

He'd fold up the paper with
everything he'd dropped into it.

I was too young
to find that lazy or vulgar.

I guess those memories

are from when I was three
'till 12 or 13.

Did you love your father?

Yes.

He was nice.

He'd buy me candy,
gifts, little cars.

He'd find yellow Matchbox cars
for me in antique stores.

I didn't like wearing pants.

My dresses were short.

People could see the marks.

Newsprint ink
on my arms, my thighs.

Fingerprints.

My father's big fingers.

I was ashamed.

Not really, though.

It's like I wanted people
to see me, it's weird.

I'd run to the bathroom
to clean up before the bell rang.

I remember picking the crusts
of dried sperm off my skin.

You look stern.

I'm listening, Léonie.
Sorry.

I don't know if this is related,

but now, if a guy doesn't
come all over me, I'm offended.

On the face, stomach,
ass, tits, I don't care.

Just for the pleasure

of letting the sperm dry after.

Are you still in touch
with your father?

He's in South America,
I never hear from him.

What does he do?

When I was a teen,

he started going
on fishing trips all the time.

To Costa Rica, Honduras.

One day, I asked my mother
if he was a dealer.

She asked why I would say that,
but I knew I was right.

What do you do
with this information?

Nothing, I'm just listening.

Okay.

Will it take long for me?

Dealing with all my inside shit?

What would you say
to your father today?

Do you miss him?

Yeah, but he's forgotten me.

Or he wants to forget me.

We didn't have
a normal relationship.

In less than five minutes,

you told me
about your father's abuse,

your admiration for him,

the pleasure of walking around
with his dried sperm on you,

the need you have
for men to ejaculate...

I know, I know.

You talk about it easily.

How does it feel
to tell me all this?

It excites me.

Excites you?

Yeah.

Sorry.

No apologies here Léonie.

Your sexuality is tied up
in a knot.

It can take all kinds of forms,
it's unpredictable.

Slowly, we'll untangle your knot.

What's normal for you?

I'll ask you the same.

What's normal for you?

Not playing with myself all day.

Watching gang bangs on my phone

and feeling dirty
and dizzy all the time.

You always watch hard porn?

Yeah.

Could you last three or four days
without your phone?

No!

- Let's try.
- No.

Okay.

Are you still taking your meds,
the Celexa?

Any side effects?
Nausea, constipation?

No.

I was that aggressive only once.

You can't think of
any other time that happened.

I just think about it, that's all.
It affected me.

Are you just going to keep
listing my failures?

You wrote everything
in a little notebook?

That's not it. You're not the victim
and I'm not your tormentor.

You had to unpack all this
just before I left?

Was it all planned?

You wanted me to leave
thinking it was over?

We need to talk.
We can talk it out.

This can be fixed.

What's to fix?

You put your career first
and took off to Canada.

- So that's it.
- Octavia, please...

Monika, you're being unfair.

It doesn't work like that.

My career stability
means that we can be stable too.

Sure, that's it.

What are you doing now?

Cleaning out my stuff
from the apartment?

No, stop.

Then talk!

It's not just about my trip.

You're done with me,
but for no reason?

My mother is visiting.
She's here now.

Your mother's not there, Monika.

Yes she is, want to talk to her?

If I call back,
promise you'll answer?

Why don't you take advantage
of your stay to reflect on things?

- Is this bridge safe?
- It's okay.

That's where we're going?

There are canoes!

I don't canoe.

We have to push it.

Are you okay?
Should I go first?

On your knees is the best.

Who's first?

I'll go first.

My feet!

Take that!

Yuck. She won't canoe
but she'll throw stuff at us?

Either you're left and I'm right
or the other way around.

Having trouble, Sami?

To go forward,
bring your hands forward.

Bring your hands up.
There!

Sit straight on your horse.

Leave your legs loose.

Relax and try to follow
the horse's movements.

Relax. Breathe.

Great.
Stay straight.

Go on.
Trot, Opérette!

It works.
Go, Opérette!

- Like this.
- Show me?

We don't need you,
we're doing fine on our own.

No need for you.

I believe it.
And that's just fine.

Very, very good.

- No, don't cry.
- I'm going to cry.

It's a living being.

It's all tied up.
It's horrible and cruel.

Want me to show you

the difference between
a male and a female?

The male has a thin, straight tail,

and the female's tail is fleshier.

See?
It's wider.

Good use of a lobster!

Léonie, you're from Gaspé, right?

Don't tell me
you've never done this.

Unless you prefer lobster?

Well, I know there's no point
in eating oysters in summer.

- No point?
- What do you mean?

It's mating season,
they're all milky and gross.

Milky?

I said it before you!

Léonie, something to drink?
Some water?

- A glass of white.
- Wine it is.

This my glass?

No, that's mine!

- Calm down.
- It's my glass.

Calm down.

Leave my glass alone!

I was making a nice platter,
for our nice evening,

and you're messing it up.

- Cheers!
- Thanks.

Did you know that a shrimp's
vital organs are all in its head?

- What are you talking about?
- It's true.

Like most crustaceans.

The brain, heart, stomach,

ovaries and testicles.

All in the head.

At least we didn't
come here for nothing, eh?

I've got more.

Did you know that
kangaroos don't fart?

Nonsense.

Eugénie, I can't explain it.

You can read the research,

kangaroos don't fart.

That's awful,
imagine never farting.

I once had a client
who was into farts.

What? You can say that.
My farts, your farts.

This guy would ask me to fart.

I'd fart and he'd get a hard-on.

Dear Geisha,

my princess, my countess,
should I say my queen?

Coffee anyone?

No thanks.

I'd like some.

Léo, you okay?

I'm okay.

How was it last year
with the other girls?

A lot like this.

Food, laughter, a few issues.

Fewer crustaceans,
fewer oysters and fewer kangaroos.

Why?

Three, four, five
clueless sex addicts?

Seafood feasts, fart jokes
and dildos in the nightstands?

You're finding it long, Léonie?

I know that some of them paid
to be there.

I clearly heard a kid,
he was maybe 18,

ask if he could pay extra
to fuck me up the ass.

I didn't care.

I didn't care where I was,
I was willing to do anything.

I wanted it, that fantasy.

I wanted it, I wasn't scared.

My boyfriend was a perv.

I knew I was gonna do this
and then leave him.

My heart was beating really fast.

I got all warm inside.

Nothing had even happened yet
and I was like...

wide open,

frozen, burning, I dunno.

We were on a building site,
a totally white room.

A big shirtless guy
screwed a lightbulb into a socket.

That was the only lighting.

I could feel that
the guys were nervous.

I closed my eyes and...

I started to touch myself,
to lube up, and I waited.

I felt the first hands touch me.

My heart was gonna explode,
but I kept my eyes shut.

I was tiny, 19 years old,
taking on 15 construction workers.

I heard my boyfriend's voice say,
"It's okay, guys."

I felt a first dick
next to my mouth.

I sucked it.

That was the green light
for the others.

One guy penetrated me,

another put his dick
into my hand.

Then I heard a soft click.

Someone turned off the light.

A guy asked him,
"What are you doing, dumb-ass?"

But no one turned it back on.

The darkness allowed them to be

much dirtier, more aggressive.

It felt like the fifteen guys
had different sexual priorities.

One pulled my hair,

one shoved his finger up my ass.

I was slapped.

They squeezed my tits,
someone spat on me.

Some were shy.

Others were proud

and didn't want to share.

They were disgusted
to see their spit

mixed with another guy's sperm
on me.

I intellectualized everything,
I analyzed every detail.

One big guy kept saying,
"It's good, eh? It's good."

I said yes.

Twice.

I don't know if it was to please him
or if I really believed it.

He could tell I wasn't coming.

Maybe he wanted
my cries of pleasure

to cover up his shame.

Then it was over.

I think they all came.

Two or three coughed
with the effort.

I stayed down for a while.

I asked for a towel.

A soft voice said,
"Here."

I was handed a t-shirt
to wipe my face and breasts.

I put on my panties,
sat in the middle of the room

and said, "Hey guys,
could you turn on the light please?"

I heard the click.

They were gone.

Just three left, whispering
and smoking in the corner.

I heard cars leave.

My mind was empty.

Totally empty.

I was covered in rashes.
They really did a number on me.

My boyfriend was gone.

I waited until I was alone.

No one spoke to me.

Funny, eh?

I think I was the least ashamed
of the bunch.

Really?

I dunno.

You can rest your arms, Léonie,
you're safe.

Did you feel anything after?

It was just for fun.

I was happy to have done it.

I had no feelings about it.

I still don't.

I don't wanna be known
for my feelings.

I dreamed about it a lot after.

Until I did it again.

Often.

But

in more organized events,
never again like that.

Spontaneously, I mean.

How do you explain
your pleasure in numbers?

Why aren't one or two men enough?

What's so great about
having eight, 12, or 15 at once?

I don't know, Octavia.

You can't put words to it?

No.

Can someone fill my wine glass?
Is that okay?

Sure.

Hello Monika.

You're probably at work, I...

I wanted to hear your voice.

I read that there was a big fire
in Pempelfort.

Maybe you know something about it?

You're at least
taking care of Bella, I hope?

No gluten in her food, right?

Well, have a good day.

Bye.

Here, you have it until 2:30pm.

Ninety minutes with your phone
and you don't care?

Did Octavia tell you
what's wrong with me?

Yes.

Tell me.

Anxiety disorder,
intrusive sexual thoughts.

It's not just going away, Sami.

Hundreds of disgusting thoughts
every day.

We had fun at the lake,
remember?

Lying in the sun, paddling canoes,
the sun stroking our skin.

Relaxation, right?

Everything you want me
to be doing.

But it wasn't that.

Know what it was?

I had a single thought.

Eight or nine huge cocks,
coming all over my face.

And I swallow every drop.

If they come on my tits instead,
I smear it on my face with my hands.

It can last hours like that,
in my head.

It's dizzying.

Wanna go for a walk?

No.

Who are you?

Tell me who you are.

Would it make things easier
to know me?

You're just a cock.

You're King Cock around here.

You have no idea how often
you've fucked me since I got here.

You're a giant walking dick,
it's not cool.

What do you want to know?

Everything.

Your sense of control,
your clean shirts.

Where are you from?

Are you an Arab?
Or what?

The perfect immigrant,
with a wife and kids?

Okay then.
I'm 51 years old.

Yes, I have a girlfriend.

She's from here,
her name is Marguerite.

I came here in '98.

Alright. And before?

Before, I was in Algiers.

Got my papers,
left Algiers, came here.

I did some training.

Got a diploma
in specialized education.

And now here I am.

Are you fucking Octavia?

No, Eugénie.

And what's her story?

Her boyfriend, her life?

I don't know.
You could ask her.

She's cold.

Always upright and calm.

How does she do it?

Did you take your Xanax?

Yeah.

You're hot.

You have ten minutes
of phone access left.

Fuck the phone.

I have no one.

No friends.

What will you do
for your 24-hour leave?

I'll find a hotel,
hang out in the lobby, find a guy.

How old is your Marguerite?

She's 43.

The first thing you'll do
when you leave is find a man?

I need men.

I need them.

I just do.

Someone once told me
that I liked beginnings,

that I'm a woman of beginnings.

Yes, I thought about it and...

It's true.

I don't know.

I latch onto people very quickly.
Men and women both.

Yeah.

I'm also very quick to let go.

Too quick maybe, I don't know.

I don't give them a chance.

I just leave.

I also had a compulsive period.

With sex.

I had my little black book.

Men, women.

I wrote it all down:
names, circumstances, performance.

After a while you get tired

of the guys and girls who dump you,
or just don't call back.

So you flip the roles.
You use them and throw them away.

You consume them, yeah.

- Here? Are you sure?
- Yeah, this is good.

You're meeting someone here?

Don't worry,
I'll call you tomorrow.

Bye Léo.

Can I drive you to the city?

No Sami, the bus is fine.

Okay.

Any plans?

Yeah.

That's a nice nose ring.

You still have the nightmare?

With your father?

The bathtub?

No.

What will you do after the retreat?

Go back home.

You live alone?

No, I've got three roommates.

Three guys.

You cut your hair?
Looks cool.

You still live in that big house?

Can we go there?
I've got all day.

Check this out.

Not in a good mood?

Hey, you know when...

Forget it.

When we're fucking,

it'd be cool
if it wasn't like last time.

Less, uh...

Like a porn film.

Okay?

Hello Mathilde.

Forgive my surprise call.

Can you talk?

Yes, I can talk.

Are you okay?

- Is it going well ?
- Very well.

- I'm all alone.
- Oh yeah?

Yes, it's the girls' day off,
and Sami's gone to Montreal.

Hello?

No problems then?

No.

How's your pregnancy going?

One night with last year's group
and you might have cracked.

It seems relaxed this year.

Their 24-hour leave
really stressed me out.

But that was the plan, right?

Yes, of course.

You can't compare them.

I'm happy for you.

Sami's doing okay?

He's doing very well.

This must be quite different
from your university job?

Of course it is, Mathilde.

I look forward to reading
your report, Octavia.

Having fun?

Or not so much?

- You don't drink anymore?
- No.

Can I sleep here tonight?

Is the sofa okay?

Of course.

Sorry.
I just remember last time.

You were a little pushy.

Yeah.

You know, uh...

It's okay.

You know the rules.

Do you want to keep going,
do the electricity?

Yes.

Please.

Are you lost?

How big is the bunk in the back?

Big enough for two.

Can I sleep
in your bunk tonight?

How much is it, and for what?

Sir, I'm not a prostitute.

I have places I can go.

But I have a fantasy
about your bunk, man.

Holy fuck.

Yeah, I know it's not reasonable.
Reasonable disgusts me.

Does your truck have a name?

A girl's name?

Truckers do that sometimes.

Shirley?

Samantha?

My truck's got no name.

"My truck's got no name."

Anything we could
do in your bunk.

Anything you could do to me.

I'd lie down next to you.

You'd caress me, your ugly face.

I'd give you my tits, my pussy,
my ass if you want it.

Your expert tongue up my ass.

Spasms, trembling, screaming.

Muffled or not, you decide.

Put your cock between my tits.

I'd jerk you off.

You'd tell me about your boring
truck route until you come.

We'd have fun in your truck, no?

Your nights
aren't always this crazy.

On all fours, you'd lick my asshole
at your own pace.

One finger, two or three,
I don't care.

If you don't want to sleep,
we don't.

We can talk about
whatever you want.

The sun will rise through
the dirty windshield.

I'd swallow your balls,
one at a time.

On my knees.

Pull my hair,
blindfold me, spit on me.

Whatever you like.

You don't look as if you've seen
much pussy.

I'd lay down, spread myself open,
you could look.

I won't count the minutes.

You got food?
Coffee, in your truck?

You could spank
my ass until it bleeds.

Or just a soft massage,
that would be cool too.

Can I come up?

I'm tired.

Please say yes.
Be nice, okay?

Hello.

I'll show you.
You cut off the ends.

Like this.

Then a tiny slit, like this.

- Like this?
- Yeah.

Then with the spoon,
you slide along the skin,

staying as close to it
as possible.

So you get all the flesh,
like this.

- It comes off?
- With the spoon, yes.

Oops, I messed it up a bit.

In high school,

one day I was a tomboy,
the next day, a total slut.

I'd play good girl-bad girl,
just to make the boys crazy.

It was a game, it wasn't serious.
I was a little idiot.

One night at a party,

I met an older girl.
She was really hot.

She was bragging about
having taken Spanish fly.

I didn't even know
what that was.

After, I saw her get gang-banged
by six guys on a pool table.

It was crazy.

After that, at school,
they all called her a nympho.

I couldn't stop
thinking about her.

I dunno, in my mind
she wasn't a victim.

She wasn't to be pitied,
it wasn't rape.

I saw her as strong.

She had wanted it.
She was the predator.

She was wild.

Free.

Léonie, are you okay?

No.

You've been in the tub forever.

I see it all in the mirror.

The stomach, neck,
around the eyes

the ass, the arms.

Léonie?

Léo?

What? It disgusts me,
I'm allowed.

- Sami?
- Yeah, I'm here.

Do you want
to watch me masturbate?

Just a bit?

I'm not hitting on you anymore,
you're too old.

All right, that's that.

But for real,
you're like an animal, pure sex.

What do you do
when you can't have sex?

When you can't talk about it?

You know, it really bugs me
that I'm not something better.

An artist, an architect,
a farmer, whatever.

But I'm just me, all the time.

I stopped asking myself
who I am.

I just love sex.
It's not complicated.

I love sex, therefore I am.

I've read more complicated
feminist theories, haven't you?

Piss off!

What did you do during
your 24-hour leave?

I screwed!

- That was the priority?
- Yeah.

Did you think about
why you're here?

It seems I have issues.

That's what your sexologist says.

That's what the doctors and Octavia
all say. But what do you say?

Eugénie, Léo, me,
you think we're just sluts, eh?

Absolutely not.

Octavia listens,
she wants to hear it all.

For you, this is just a job.

You've already made up your mind
about us.

I do have a job to do.

But that doesn't mean I can't
empathize with your situations.

A youth centre?

Yup.

How long?

Eight years.

So, you get off
helping young mothers in need?

You roll your eyes,
but you know I'm not wrong.

Saviour Syndrome,
something like that.

I know you social workers.

You're chipper tonight, eh?

So this is really
your role in life?

To help us at any cost?

To make us believe
that our problems interest you?

I don't like this!

Check it out!

You afraid?

No.

You?

No, I'm good.

There's almost no stars out.

No.

Do you know how a star dies?

I didn't know they could die.
How?

By exploding.

At some point it loses
its energy or its light,

then suddenly...

it explodes.

Cool.

They found one that exploded,

but instead of dying it regenerated.

Know what they called it?

What?

The Zombie Star.

I've waited a long time
for a night like this.

It's sticky!

You see it?

What is it?

An owl.
A beautiful owl.

Owl.

That's a bad omen.

Yeah, but it's beautiful.

An extraordinary hunter.

You never know
if an owl is nice or not, eh?

That's true.

Mysterious.

Proud.

Majestic.

Magnificent.

Solemn.

Obscure.

Lordly.

Yes, we're staring at you,
beautiful prince of predators.

All wise.
All powerful.

I'm cold, I'm hot.

It heats up,

and then there's a gust of wind,
you feel it?

Sometimes it burns or freezes,
but never for long.

Have you been drawing long?

I'll draw for days straight,
and then give it up for months.

They're exquisite.

It smelled like smoke
a while ago.

Like somebody burned something.

Eugénie.

Did you take drugs?

It's so good.

I don't know if it's day 19,
day 12, or just the third night.

What did you take?

Just a bit of Molly.

MDMA?
Ecstasy?

It rebalances everything.

Dopamine.

Serotonin.

All is good, baby.

Sorry if I'm naked,
but it's okay.

You're not naked, Eugénie.

I heard you speaking in German.

Yes, I called someone.

We are always alone.

You are human, too.

You have desires, ambitions,
dreams, plans.

We fall in love with something,
and then out again.

It's when we're sad
that we're most alive, right?

How do we know if we're alive
if we're never sad?

Of course.

What is it?

I'm just looking.

The sun will come up soon.

Won't you sleep at all?

If I close my eyes,
I have the worst dirty dreams.

I wake up in a sweat.

We spend our lives

hoping the white part
can contain the black part.

It's a balancing act.

Sheer chaos.

Acrobatics.

It's always at night
that I find my violence.

An electric toothbrush?

You're always dressed the same.

Yeah, I know.

I don't have many surprises.

I can feel it cracking.

- You've never done this?
- No.

It's good for your skin.

What are you gonna do,
back in Montreal?

Gonna fuck for two weeks.

I'm glad to know you.

We could stay friends after.

Yeah.

Yup.

You are my friends!

Hey, Diane.

Look, we're flapping in the wind.

Diane, come here!

- Our last evening together.
- Yeah.

Will you have a drink with us?

Yeah, maybe a bit.

You don't like us, eh Diane?

It's hard, sometimes.

What is?

I have two daughters your age.

Oh yeah?

Camille and Marion.

They normal?

Yes, normal.

- What do they do?
- They're both studying.

In what?

One's in environmental sciences,

the other's in administration.

- You must be proud.
- Very proud.

We could never be
your daughters, eh?

What do you mean?

Do they ever do anything wrong?

Men, nightclubs,
stupid mistakes in the shadows?

They're saints!

Geisha.

I'm gonna say this as nicely
and respectfully as I can.

I wish you'd see yourself
differently.

Other than by the way
others look at you.

Other than by men's desire.

It could be the end of something,
and a new beginning.

Come let me hug you, Diane.

Let me hold you.

- Thanks for the food.
- Yeah, thanks, it was good.

I won't forget you.

Are you pleased, in the end?

Yeah, it's okay.

How did you think
this would end?

You took notes, it's all good.

Did you want to quantify it?

Make charts?

There's no conclusion.

No resolution.

Not this year, not last year.

No grandiose ending.

Do I have the feeling
of being someone else,

and it'll pass?

Or am I completely myself?

There's only CDs.

Horrible vestiges of the 90s.

Is this salmon?

Look, they're having fun.

Twenty-six days,
no great drama, no mutiny.

Congratulations boss,
mission accomplished.

In my neighbourhood,
during the 80s,

the street was filled with kids.

Always parties, always playing.

My mother loved kids.

She always wanted them
around her.

She said that when adults
can't talk about their problems,

they should get children
to give words to events.

You should always ask a child
to solve an adult's problems.

So I guess we should've had
some kids here.

Yeah, that's it.

Do you know
the feeling of failure?

- Failure, you understand?
- Yes, of course.

Why, what's wrong?

Nothing, just a feeling.

How do you say it in German?

What haven't you told me, Sami?

Say it.
I just want to hear the word.

Why are you saying this?

It's not important.

I'm just feeling melancholy.

One winter I worked
at a fancy place.

We danced like this
while waiting for clients.

It's hard,
working in a whorehouse.

The looks.

Or rather,
the men who don't look at you,

who prefer others over you.

Waiting for a client
is terrible.

Keeping your mind busy.

Being inspected.

The wait.

Waiting to be desired
or rejected.

I'm glad I came here.

But I don't know how to convince
them that I just love to fuck.

With my sexologist,
it's disorder or A or disorder B.

That bugs me.

If I want to fuck my life away,
who cares?

I'm not hurting anyone.

Come! Sami, come!

- Is that champagne?
- Yes.

Sami, you want some?

I love champagne.

Me, I feel pleasure through my ears.

And there's nothing sexier
than that sound.

Hold on, just a moment!

I...

Ah, forget it.

I just want to thank you.

Let's drink!

To your health, everyone.

- Eugénie!
- Yes?

I wanted to thank you
for everything.

I hope you keep drawing.

Maybe one day,

I could buy one of your pieces?

- Why not? Thanks!
- Really, you're unique.

You have talent.

Yes.

Also, if ever you're in Germany,

come and see me.

I'm serious.

Hello?

Hello Octavia, are you okay?

Hello Mathilde, it's all fine.

So, it's the last...

Yes Mathilde, I'm very
satisfied with the retreat.

I'm proud of myself
and what I accomplished.

The girls were wonderful.

Thanks, goodbye!

- Coming Octavia?
- Yes!

We're taking a picture
for Diane.

- I wanna be on the ground too!
- Back up.

Okay, smile.
Octavia, please smile.

Yes.

- I want to be in one.
- A photo?

Let's see all of you.

Now, with everyone.

- Turn around.
- You can see everyone?

Girls, I'll send you a copy.

That's a nice one.

Thanks.

- Hey, the lake?
- Yeah, the lake!

Let's all go jump in the lake!

I'm first!

Wait for me!