All language subtitles for you.will.be.my.son.2011.bdrip.x264-bipolar

Sir? Please...

The coffin's made of oak?

French oak. Tronçais forest.

So there's oak in with the...

Definitely, sir.

At this stage, it's tricky
to separate wood ash from the deceased.

He didn't like wood. Woody aromas.

I'm not sure he'd like the mix.

It's all carbon, sir.

It all breaks down.

YOU WILL BE MY SON

Now that's a Clos de l'Abbé,
a St. Emilion premier grand cru .

Wonderful, isn't it?

Superb nose.

Berries, of course. Peony, perhaps?

Wild rose.

A wine's aroma tells a story.
Like a woman's perfume.

And yours is earthy.

Vanilla.

Floral, talcum...

So it's a...

Guerlain. Heure Bleue .

Please, enjoy.

That would be a sin.

Your Abbé is so long in the mouth.

Would you care
to taste my mass wine?

The notorious Chardonnay.

Only to be drunk, as we all know,
on your knees and hats off.

- Chardonnay in St. Emilion? Ballsy.
- White soil, white grapes.

In a Burgundy bottle?

Criminal.

A table wine?

At 60 euros a bottle.

Goodness!

I like chin-up, chest-out whites
with a long, dry finish.

Oyster juice, fresh butter, hazelnut.

Pouilly de Marseul, planted by my dad
in 1978 in tribute to my mother.

She was from Burgundy.

It's table wine,
but close to a Bâtard-Montrachet.

Yes, it was astonishingly good.

You're joining us for lunch?

I'm supporting cast,
not on the poster.

With jugged hare, anything but
Clos de l'Abbé would be a sin.

My salesman's case!

Could we get a photo
outside the chateau?

A portrait of father and son
with a bottle.

Striking a pose? No, thanks.

After you.

Goodbye.

There, that's enough.

Not bad, your journalist.

She's not my journalist.

I call her up
and he puts on his show.

Lunch at Le Cheval Noir
with the perfect Pouilly,

brandy at the chef's table.

Take me to Le Cheval Noir.

Guinea fowl with mushrooms!

- Picture his face.
- I dare you.

He doesn't share your sense of humor.

I don't like to see you around here.

That's lucky.
I'm leaving.

How's my François?

Not good. I'll let him explain.

I doubt this is the right time.

A glass of wine a day
keeps the doctor away.

You've got jaundice.

Don't need 10 years at med school.

I brought you our 2009 wonders.

He can't drink!

They're just samples.

We need to take them out of the wood.

Back in the tank or bottle them.

Not one drop!

He still has a nose, though!

- Want a taste?
- Yes.

It's just, with the medication...

I feel all...

Can you take a look
up at Les Etourneaux?

There's a bit of mildew
that worries me.

On those young vines,
it's to be expected.

We need to wander up there,
get you some air.

He's on sick leave.

Sick leave?
What about our harvest?

Can I have a word?

Patient privacy? What are you saying?
She told me.

The pancreas is the worst, isn't it?

Thanks, I appreciate it.

You okay?

No, I'm not okay.

François has cancer.

In 6 months, he'll be gone.

It won't be easy.

I knew. She told me.

You can count on me.

We'll see it through.

Thanks, kiddo. I need some air.

- What's the reading?
- 11.4.

What's the point?

Of what?

Scuttling along like a hare,
for hours on end.

It's to keep fit.

Fitness falls into two categories.

Athletic and esthetic.

Two different approaches.

Which side are you on?

What do you mean?

I'm trying to understand you better.

What about François?

I mean...

- What do we do?
- Any ideas?

No. I mean, I'm here.

I'm available.

Start by taking a shower.

Enter!

Hello, Paul.

You've changed your perfume.

I have.

Miss Dior, isn't it?

A little sweet perhaps?

I preferred the other.
Drier, more genuine.

What brings you here, my dear Alice?

It's about the room...

Hold on, while you're here...

I was thinking of getting a new couch.

I'd like a female opinion
on the matter.

We'd replace both.
Facing each other.

Nubuck, naturally.
What do you think?

Looks good to me.

About the room adjoining ours...

What room?

You agreed 6 months ago.
You just have to empty your closet.

Really?

I don't remember that.

It's very tricky because...

it means moving my shoes.

- Tell me why again.
- To open out our kitchen.

That's nice.

You know, Alice,
if you want something from someone,

it's wiser to ask nicely.

Come on, let's go.

If it was for a baby room, of course...

I promise you'll be the first to know.

It's important, you know.

The Marseul name goes back
eleven generations without a break.

I just hope
Martin can give me a grandson.

Why shouldn't he?

He took 20 years to say a sentence
without stuttering.

It's still hit-or-miss.

You never pass up a chance.

Unlike you, wine is without mercy.

It doesn't tolerate hesitancy.

I prepare for the future. I anticipate.

But I'm a mere conduit.

What'll you do if he can't?

We'll adopt.

To choose the perfect grandson.

The ideal Marseul.

So I'd have to block off this entrance?

It would be "wiser," yes.

I'll think it over.
But you shouldn't have bothered...

Martin could have asked me.
I saw him this morning.

You're preparing him for a marathon?

Like you,
I'm whipping him into shape.

I enjoy our chats.

You're spiky.

All in all,
my son's best asset is his wife.

What are you going to do?

We're thinking it through.

You handle your exports?

I speak 4 languages.

My father's English scares people.

So it keeps you busy?

My father and I
have a proposal for you.

A pushier,
marketing-oriented approach.

- Cushier?
- Pushier.

In 20 years,
you've never had cause for complaint.

I'm not complaining.

What do we shift, 900 cases a year?
Mostly advance sales.

We want to change up a gear.

I could commit to 50,000 bottles,

times 40 euros, pre-arrival.
I'll let you tot up the zeros.

- 2,000,000 euros.
- Better than a kick in the ass!

- And in return?
- I get exclusivity overseas.

No less! I have solid relationships
with certain buyers.

Small territories are negotiable.

So half our wine one year.
And the next?

5-year contract. Renewable.

And for less attractive vintages?

No exceptions.

What you see's what you get.
No small print.

- You're in wine to make it.
- Selling it is our job.

Every year, you get a world tour.
Star treatment.

Tokyo, Shanghai, New York...

Becker's over from Australia.
You know him?

I'll need a few gems
from your dad's cellar.

- You want to dazzle him.
- We'll pay if needs be.

Want some Ruinart?

For your good lady.

And this for your dad.

I know he loves Clos Fourtet,
just hates paying for it.

The Virgin Mary
in a silk babydoll.

What's your doctor called?

Professor Vermont.

That's the son.
I knew his father, André, the dentist.

Is it time for me to call him?

Your friend Vermont's called time on me.

The bell has tolled.

It's aged better than us.

At Les Etourneaux,
you'll have to pick in 2 passes.

I'd rather you took a quick look.

If Nurse goes out,
call me and we'll skip up there.

You know what Nurse says?
Pack up your gifts and clear out!

He's tired. Can't you understand that?

Madeleine,
don't take it like that.

Unlike wine,
man isn't cut out for the cellar.

He needs air, a little oxygen...

Doesn't he?

Do something about your nails.

It's a sign of weakness,
says something about a man.

How'd it go at Lacourt's?

I saw them yesterday.

I know that. And?

They made me an offer.

Did they? Why you?

You didn't come.

So?

So, they'll take half our output

in return for exclusivity on exports.

Isn't that a brilliant idea!

Lacourt Jr's, I bet.

They have us by the balls
and you're out of a job. You said yes?

I didn't say anything.
I said we'd talk it over.

The point is,

they'll raise prices and relieve me.

You need relieving?

To replace François.

I mean, to look after the harvest
and vinification. With you.

- You?
- I got a degree in it.

You don't learn
to make wine in college.

You need a nose, a palate...

All you have is an ear.

You get it from your mother.

You went and asked Lacourt
to do your job,

so you could take François's.

You've got it all planned.

Not at all! They...

Admin isn't good enough?

I'd just like you to give me a chance.

Forget it.

They gave me this for you.

And they'd like these for a client,

an Australian.

They're prepared to pay.

Come with me.

After all,
you can get advice from François.

And Old Mother Big Stick likes you.

Prepare the harvest for me,
the pickers and all that.

I want a daily written report
to help you structure your ideas.

After that, we'll play it by ear.

Great!

Okay...

Lafitte 1959.

Bâtard-Montrachet 1990, magnum.

Your fancy-pants Australian

better have deep pockets.

He's happier here
than on the mantelpiece.

How old were you when he died?

Do the math!

17.

1963, annus horribilis.

Had he been drinking...

to drown in the Dordogne?

The Dordogne's the official version.

You ever taste a '63?
Not great.

And the unofficial version?

When he died, I hardly knew him.

I was in a Jesuit boarding school
from age 9 to 17.

I was no trouble to him.

I think it was that summer,
after I finished school,

all of a sudden
he noticed that I existed.

In 3 months, he taught me all he knew.

He made me taste all this.

Here.

We did the harvest together,

and one week later,
I found him dead.

In a vat.

A vat?

That's right. During fermentation.

The carbon dioxide knocked him out
and he fell in.

Not in the Dordogne?

No, I told you.
Drowned, asphyxiated in a vat.

Keep it to yourself, okay?

Why didn't you tell the truth?

1963 was an average year.
That would have sunk the vintage.

Would you buy a wine
that had marinaded a stiff?

How could we ever prove
we'd thrown it all out?

You threw it all out?

What do you think?

Georges, try it now.

Stop!

What are you doing under there?

Trying to repair it.

So I see.
Can you put it back together?

Maybe we ought to get a new one.

This one's bust.

It worked fine when François was here.

Are you a mechanic now?

Let Georges take over.
He'll reassemble it.

The noise it made, I doubt it.

Should I get François to show you
how a sorting table works?

Where's your schedule?

In my laptop.

"In my laptop"!

With a Powerpoint slideshow for us?

The schedule goes on the board here.

Then we check the boxes, you see.

Method and discipline,
it's not rocket science!

You wanted to take charge.

Okay, let's try it one more time.

See you tomorrow!

Well?

It's going okay.

Except I have a problem
with the sorting table.

It's kaput.
It gave us lots of trouble last year.

We planned to change it.

I went up to Les Etourneaux.

We need to thin out the foliage
to get air on them.

There you are? The day's done?

I just dropped by to say hi.
I was about to go.

He's not bothering you, I hope?

Vinisystem has brought out
an optical table for 159 grand.

You don't need sorters.

Great for lazybones!
Grapes must be sorted by hand.

Out and about?

Look, you're in the paper.

The obituaries?

Don't joke.
You know, that reporter who came by...

- I said great things about you.
- So kind.

Say, can I ask you a favor?

Sure.
Martin, can you step outside?

Madeleine's gone shopping
and I'd like to...

have a word with my lad.

Take a seat.

Martin!

C'mon, make yourself useful!

Call up America on your thingy.

Thanks.

Dad! How are you?

Fine.

- You see the time?
- Did I wake you?

No problem. I was about to get up.
We pick early here.

You brought some croissants?

He doesn't know!

Doesn't know what?

The cancer. Nobody's told him.

Really? Nobody's told him?

Could you lose the habit
of repeating everything?

The day you find out I'm dying,
what will you do?

Give mom my love.

Yeah, of course, I will.

See you.

Done already?

Yes.

It was good to see him.

It's only natural. He's your son.

You're too tired to walk home.

Take us up there.

Where?

Les Etourneaux.

I can't. Madeleine'll kill me.

She's out. Just a quick look.

Paul!

What a surprise! How are you?

François!

Sorry. It's all coming up.

Usually,
flattery would get you nowhere,

but you write well.

You're quite the wordsmith.

Have you seen François?

Sure. He dropped by to say hello.

Of his own accord.
I asked Martin to drive him back.

That's him now!

You're both totally irresponsible.

I didn't...

Cut it out and apologize!

I'm sorry.

Martin wasn't obeying orders.

You have a nerve!

Yes, darling?

Just give me a second.

That was your son.
He just landed in Paris.

You did the right thing.

Any news?

What's wrong?

If it hails, it'll ruin the vintage,
and you wallow in it.

What can I do if it's raining?

Stick your nose in there.

Isn't it wonderful?

My nose?

They must have amputated it
in the ambulance.

I'll talk you through it.

It's a candy jar.

Wild mint, licorice,

a hint of crushed strawberries...

It's Wine Expo!

This is my son.

Just back from California.

A surprise visit.
He's Coppola's head winemaker.

And he brought a pick-me-up with him!

Be my guest.

Rarely when on duty
and never in a canteen glass.

A mistake!

Miss, you try...

Just the nose.

- Licorice?
- Good. And?

Moss.

A forest after it's rained?

You have a great little nose.

Perhaps we could examine Mr. Amelot?

Your son's put a smile on your face.
We'll tie him to the bedpost.

Shit, it's hammered him.

He's so thin!

- What's the doc say?
- Nothing.

There's nothing to say.

But it did him the world of good
to see you.

Take a breather. I'll perk him up
and you come back tonight.

The occlusion's under control.

A blast of chemo
and we'll pack him off home.

But you should know...

I can't work miracles.

You can see him now. Be strong.

Is that straight?

Look, the label's wonky.

Marseul means perfection,
not approximation. Do them all again.

I can't face seeing him.

This can't go on.

For Christ's sake, talk to him!

You're kidding.
I can't pin him down.

In that case, we take off.

What time did you say?

8 p.m.

Good evening, Paul.

My dear Alice, I'm sorry.
Last-minute invite so no flowers.

But fine wine for a beautiful hostess.
Or vice-versa, perhaps?

Thanks.

This is very cozy.
You've rearranged the room.

No, I don't think so.

You must admit, I don't often
get the chance to be invited in.

Please, make yourself at home.

What can I get you?

What do you have, my dear Alice?

Philippe!

What a surprise!
When did you get here?

- I arrived today.
- How are you? Come on in.

- Look who it is!
- I was passing by...

Great to see you, my boy!

Same here.

- You know my wife, Alice?
- No.

Nice to meet you.

No, I missed your wedding.
I was in New Zealand.

How long is it since you came home?

3 years at Xmas.
My folks came to Chile to see me.

- You're all alone?
- Mom's at the hospital with dad.

Have dinner with us.

- Is that okay, Alice?
- Sure.

Don't let me interrupt...

You're not interrupting.

Let's celebrate the return
of the prodigal son. Champagne!

I brought my wine. Rubicon.

Let's taste it.

How's your father this evening?

Not that!
He's not glugging my Ruinart!

- It's all we have chilled.
- So?

That was your gift to me.

Sorry, we're out of champagne.
A glass of port?

A gift from your cleaning lady.

Thanks for telling me.

You got away no problem?

They wouldn't give me time off,
so I just came anyway.

Logically, I'm out of a job.

You made the right decision.

Sorry to interrupt.

We can't dine in my tiny kitchen.

Yes, the open kitchen...

See all, smell all!

It has a hint of earthiness

that isn't at all unpleasant.

It's woody, but I expected that.

There's a fruity note
that stands out

amid all the richness.

It holds up well.

It holds up beautifully!

In Napa,
some wines rival the best Bordeaux.

What does it sell for?

- $180.
- Really? Yikes!

It's not a Pétrus.

What do you think?

I like the floral note on the finish.

A hint of wilted rose.

Where'd you find a rose in there?

It's not a Côte de Nuits,
it's California!

It's not a romantic wine,
it's Coppola, the Valkyries!

Not very subtle. A tad brutal.

Brutal? That's over the top perhaps.

I agree with Martin. Wilted rose.

Something floral, at least.

I can't stand yes-men.

You're confusing the issue.

Martin's lack of palate is regrettable,
given his pedigree,

but if you don't have one,
I worry for my grandson.

You're expecting?

Not as far as I know.
It's one of Paul's obsessions.

Remind me to lend you
my biodynamic yearbook.

It lists the most fertile periods.

Too kind, but we fuck like rabbits,
all day, every day.

Everybody finished?

We're out of ammo.
Come on, let's get the second wave.

Haven't we had enough?

It's not one too many
until you drink it!

Clos des Mouches 1928!

Romanée Conti '45!

It's Ali Baba's cave.

- What's your year of birth?
- '76.

Here...

Open that up.

You know what they say?

"If your wife's expecting,
better make it a good vintage..."

"Or look a fool every birthday."

Your dad was dancing with the gods.

There's divine light in this.

I wish he had as much life left in him.

Here, I'll take this up
for our rabbits.

Chambolle Amoureuses 1966.
Ever tasted it?

The ultimate in delicacy.
Roses for our little florist!

And some of this.

To show you
how good your dad and I were.

I don't cut it
with my California wines.

No, you've made a good start.

You have to move up a notch.

What you need now is a plot of land,
land with history

to let you bring out your wine.

The one in there.

Come on.

Now that's what I call a shoe!

Supple, smooth lines...

A touch vulgar for my taste.

Italian, I bet.

Spot on.

Italian kangaroo, very rare.

Single hide from Pinto.
Says so inside.

If you want craftsmanship,
I'll show you some footwear.

Great idea!

Don't miss Paul's footwear tour.
I'm off to bed.

Hold your horses!

It's not every day
I have a palate in my palace.

What does young Martin say to that?

Wilted rose?

There's some of that.

Some of that.
And some rotten apple, too?

Young Martin says the wine quiz is over
and we're closed.

Temper temper, Alice.

She's a bit...

Sure, let's get you to bed.

I mean, let you get to bed.

Those are great shoes,
for a hairdresser.

You must be joking.

They're sheer class.

I don't go for nuts on my shoes.
It's a hard look to pull off.

John Lobb,
if you don't mind, my friend!

Come to bed.

What a night!

- Why the long face?
- I have a migraine.

I find fine wines never hurt.

Did we piss Alice off?

She says when she's sick of it.
Maybe you noticed.

I never saw your dad like that.
He's full of energy.

Yep, he's everywhere.

How are you?

They've been down
since your dad got sick.

What do you think?

The plant's stressed.

They're tired,
in need of tender loving care.

Silica after harvest,
then a long rest.

For now,
raise the canopy to the west.

Got that? Air on them.
If you're not sure, ask Philippe.

- We were just discussing it.
- All talk, no action.

Are you going to see your dad?
I'll give you a lift.

I need the bed.

If you eat, you're out next week.

Fine.

For the harvest.

But he doesn't go near
the wine press.

Of course not.

No acrobatics!

Goodbye, doctor. Thank you.

That's wonderful.

Yeah.

Old man Marseul
pulled the stops out last night.

Really?

We were feeling no pain.

Come in.

- We were talking about you.
- All good I hope.

Sure.

A small gift.

Two Côte Roties
I happened to pick up.

Courtesy of Lacourt Jr.

Give one to Vermont,

he'll be eating out of your hand.

I hear you gave my son
a skinful last night.

Just rounding off his education.

He shows a certain aptitude.

Actually, a thought occurred to me...

It came to me last night.
A brainwave.

How about he takes charge
of the harvest?

And the vinification.

If you agree, of course.

Providence sent him.

Or something like that.

Turning up just at the right time,
you need a nose for it.

He has a nose on him,

that's for sure.

We're ten days from harvest,

you're off sick

and we have a real professional to hand,

who's worked in America.
Couldn't be better!

What do you say?

What about Martin?

You don't exactly help.

It's all part of the genetic puzzle.

Anyway, if he does it,

there'll be a bit of you in the vintage.

How about it?

If I can help out.
I'm not gonna sit twiddling my thumbs.

There we are. Some good news at last!

Usually, we finish here,
where the grapes mature later.

We'll start downhill
and work up to where it's cooler.

What do you think?

That's how it works, yes.

That was the job center.
They don't have enough people.

That should've been done a month ago.

How many are you short?

Four.

I'll find people at the college.

If you don't mind, I'd rather drive.

Sorry, am I late?

- Get in the front.
- It's okay.

Don't stand on ceremony.
With your legs...

It's awesome!

I had the previous model at Coppola's.

But the vibrating table
really respects the fruit.

Everybody's picking. Action stations.
Mr. de Marseul...

Mr. de Marseul junior...

- Young man...
- Philippe.

François's son.
He's supervising my harvest.

Bucher. It's Swiss.
The Rolls Royce of sorting tables.

Yes, that's the problem.

What's the problem?

Rolls Royce prices for a heap of steel.

If it's action stations,
prices must be going down.

No, a Bucher never goes down.

In 20 years,
your son will thank you for it.

What's your game?

Sorry.

In 20 years, optical sorting
will make this an antique.

Hold on, I never made any promises.

I said we'd see how it went.

Put yourself in my shoes,
you have no experience.

Your time will come, kiddo.

Trust has to be earned.

We've got it on free trial.
If we buy it, he'll buy back the old one.

All right! Hats off to you, sir.

It's a pleasure.

Last but not least.

Here I am,
revved up and ready to go.

No lunch breaks with this.

Right. We agreed, imagine
you're watching the harvest on TV.

It's okay, mom. I'll look after him.

I can't do it all this year.

Cooking okay, but no shopping.

Martin!

Logistics is his thing.

Philippe supervising,
Martin shopping and Madeleine cooking.

And me watching it on TV.

I'm not doing the shopping.

Unless you know something I don't,
I'm the boss.

Churlish spirits aren't wanted here.

Drink anyone?

Look at that.

On the button.

It's caviar!

You're an artist.
Your grapes are magnificent.

Yeah, not bad.

- Are you okay?
- Sure.

Getting some air.

Cooped up, I ferment.

I'm making the most of my last harvest.

Drive before we all burst into tears.

What the hell is this?

What's wrong?

Do you do it on purpose?

Give me those. Call them in.

Everybody, gather round, please!

I'll say it again
since nobody was listening.

You sort the grapes on the vine first.
No leaves...

No unripe grapes.

And, above all, no mold.

The basics of grape-picking.
Okay, back to work.

You can sort all these crates again.

Martin! Wakey wakey!

- Okay?
- Sure.

A glass of bourru , Paul?

Is something wrong?

No, nothing's wrong.
Excellent work, my friend.

Hey, the lights!

- What are you doing here?
- Nothing.

I love the smell of the cellar
when the whites are just in.

Can't you feel it starting to sting?

Your nose is shot.
C'mon, it's not good for you.

No, I like it here. Underground.

I'm practicing.

That's not funny.

It's true, though, son.
I'm checking out.

Slowly...

but surely.

I don't want you to go.

I need you.

You're doing a grand job.

The pupil has overtaken the master.

The son has killed the father.

Okay, take me up.

Old man Marseul
sprinkles something in the vats,

from a little box he has.

Yes, I know.

It's not yeast, is it?

No, ashes. It's his...

His father's ashes.

He's nuts!

A bit.
But in a whole vat, you can't tell.

Why's he do it?

Because it's his way
of paying tribute to his father.

By messing with my wine!

Your wine?

What are you talking about?

Clos de Marseul
will never be Clos Philippe, remember.

Know your place, son.

How will you pay tribute
to your father?

Excuse me,
I'd just like to say a few words.

Of course,
it'll be the vintage of the century,

as we say every year.

Seriously, I'm very confident,
so thank you.

And a huge thank-you to Philippe,

who stood in for his father with talent

and efficiency.

If I may, I'd like to pay
special tribute to François.

For his key contribution
to the estate's reputation.

For watching over the vines
like a father his children.

For sleeping with the vats
whenever necessary...

We get the picture.

He's still around.

Honor and respect to François Amelot!

You're leaving?

We're going home.

Goodnight.

- Who's coming clubbing?
- I will.

Martin is back!

- You coming?
- No.

Goodnight.

Coming, Paul?

Not my scene.
I have refined eardrums, young man.

Goodnight then.

No way! What a surprise!

How are you?

You're looking older and better.

Who's the lucky guy?

Richard, the boss. 2 kids.

Damn!

Congratulations.

What about you? Hitched?

No, my body has been lying fallow.
But I'm tempted to go sowing...

Too late, youngster. Pity.

Here, a consolation prize.

They're ripe.

Ripe for the picking!

Aren't you sick of it?

Of what?

I dunno...

Attracting flies.

What are you talking about?

Aren't you sick of trampling on people?

Look, we've been drinking,
but watch your mouth.

Kills you to hear it, huh?

Stop it, Martin.

Don't you feel you're muscling in?

Cut the bullshit.

I helped out when you were in the shit,
so back off now.

Thank you, your Highness.

- Thanks for saving us.
- Watch out!

Take what you will, sire!
The kingdom is yours.

And the king, too.

Well played.

You always were...

ahead of the game.

- Your dad's giving out on you, so...
- Shut it!

- Want me to carry him up?
- Please.

Why not fuck my wife, too?

- Isn't she sexy enough for you?
- Stop.

You Pig!

Excuse me.

Thanks.

When I arrived,
I could hardly breathe in here.

It nearly killed me.

I forgot to up the ventilation
last night.

I was a bit out of it.

How was your little excursion?

Fun, yeah. Very nice.

But I don't think I'll stay on here.

Why not?

I don't want to take anyone's place.

I was just doing you a favor.

What's the problem?

I think that your son
would like to take charge.

Martin?

I won't take his place.

Martin has no place here.

It's a vineyard, not a charity.
End of story.

- I want to see Martin.
- He's asleep.

Wake him up.

It's Sunday, Paul. Can't he rest?

Get him for me.

What's up?

What's up? You!
What did you tell Philippe?

Nothing.

Being useless doesn't allow you
to stop others working.

Cut that out now.

I may not be your ideal son
but I'm not your dog!

Have fun with your new toy
and get the hell out of my house!

I'm your father, aren't I?

My what?

That's not being a father.

You've been on my back all my life!

You stifle me! You suffocate me!

You lie to me, you despise me,
you humiliate me, you lay traps for me!

You're the opposite of a father!

You're a snake. A fucking snake!

Get the hell out of here now!

Go!

We'll be back tomorrow.

I left instructions for you
on your desk.

Good evening, I booked rooms
in the name of Paul de Marseul.

That's right.
Paul and Philippe de Marseul.

Rooms 514 and 515.

My name's Philippe Amelot.

I'll correct that immediately.

Welcome to the Grand.

Thanks. Have a good evening.

Martin, this is Philippe again.

My second message.

Just to make sure
you checked the Cabernet temperature

and punched the cap
on the three Merlot vats. That's all.

Feel free to call me back.

A Richelieu Balmoral.

Goodyear stitching
and semi-brogue pattern.

A very distinguished shoe.

Available in Cabernet, Merlot or Gamay.

They're magnificent.

- And the price?
- 2,900 euros.

The young man will try a pair.
Size 10 1/2.

Why not?

Well?

Sheer class.

Like slippers!

Luxury's an easily acquired taste.

Hermes, son of Zeus.

God of travelers, commerce and thieves!

A leading light in mythology
and leather goods.

You're crazy!
What are you doing all alone here?

You wanna end up like your granddad?

Prodigy and master in Paris,
underlings in the vats.

Jump in, you'll love it.

It's warm and wet.

My dear Paul,
you are a benefactor to humanity.

France acknowledges you
as one of her knights.

On behalf of the French Republic,

by the powers invested in me,

I hereby name you
Knight of the Legion d'Honneur.

From here, I can't do anything.

Tell him
he has to punch the cap tonight.

If it's too thick,
he'll have to jump in.

Thanks for the advice, son,
but he already has.

Why'd you scoot off to Paris
now of all times?

He can do it this once.
It's not the end of the world.

You tell him, he can hear you.

Go on, tell him.

Great.

I have to go now.

Tell him to call if he needs me, okay?

The Légion d'Honneur?
Why not, I suppose.

They give it to anyone.

Sorry, Martin,
but I really don't get it.

Did you know?

No.

You know Ginastet?

Sure. The "prince" of Bordeaux.

Unbearable but unbeatable.

My daughter, Marie-Cécile,
who runs several of our estates.

Is this your son?

My estate manager's son.
A nose like a truffle hound's.

Sir...

Come and meet the boss of Wine Expo.

Nice to meet you.

I know it.

Coming.

Excuse me.

Don't sell yourself short.

The first person to make you an offer,
you grab it with both hands.

He just asked me to meet him.

And become a fat dealer's lackey.

How much is he offering?

A lot, I guess.

Ginastet's a springboard...

To jump his daughter's bones?

Now for the vitality treatments,
gentlemen.

Did you sleep well?

Like a baby.

Think it over?

What?

My offer.

You left me in four expert hands.
I have a reputation to live up to.

You mean you...

You're very naïve, in fact.

What would win you over?

Rosemary conditioner,

acacia honey relaxing bath oil...

And some after-shave for you.

You took everything?

At 2,000 euros a night,
the bathrobe's a no-no,

but you can steal the soap.

Those were on the hotel?

What?

The shoes.

A thank-you gift from Paul.

- Thank you for what?
- The harvest and everything.

Your suitor's going all out.
How much?

I don't know. A gift.

He's not taking the piss.

Actually, he made me an offer.

He offered me a job.

Doing what?

Cellar master, head winemaker...

He doesn't waste any time.
I'm not dead yet.

That's not the point.

It is the point.
Cellar master, head winemaker?

Bullshit for tourists.
Sounds better than estate manager but...

The title's not important.

He'd put me in charge
and make me a partner.

A partner? What did you say?

That I'd think it over.

Apparently,
it's not to everyone's liking.

You'll never be your own man here.

Never!

The shoes aren't enough.

Things change, dad.

Things pretend to change.

That's all.

I prefer him being here
than halfway round the world.

Think of the future.
We don't even own this house.

I'm looking for your dad.

I'm not.

You'll have to wait a bit for that one.

Hi, Paul.

- How are you?
- Fine.

- Can I have a word?
- Sure.

If you need anything, just whistle.

He's still having his teenage crisis.

I've been thinking about your offer.

I can't accept it.

It's not the way of things.

You know the way of things?

You have a son.

He should take over.

I spoke to Ginastet this morning.

I'm seeing him Monday.

You'd leave your father alone
to die here,

to play court jester to a salesman.
A Médoc salesman, what's more!

Bravo!

Don't worry,
I'll be here when he needs me.

You're turning down
the chance of a lifetime.

Come on, follow me.

This notebook's our bible.

All my father's notes.
And your father's.

Here...

On loan.

I remember seeing my father cry
when he achieved this quality.

The magic of the aromas.

I spent my whole childhood
running around that vineyard...

Looking all over for him.

Then, one day, when I was 15,

I found out he wasn't my father.
I mean, not my...

Not my biological father.

Shortly before he died,
he called me in and he said,

"You were born on this land,
so it belongs to you.

"The land has chosen you."

He adopted me as his son.

Nobody knows about this.
It's our secret.

And now, you see...

I could say the same to you.

This land has chosen you.

You must make your wine here.

- But you have a son of your own.
- Apparently.

If you don't take over after me,
that's it, I'll sell the estate.

If you want this to be yours...

it's yours.

Take 48 hours to think about it.

The simplest solution

would be to marry Madeleine Amelot.

You adopt her little genius
and your son can't complain.

I'll put that to one side as you clearly
have no particular affinity

for the young woman.

Who isn't so young either,

and, above all, not yet widowed.

So, solution number two.

The adoption of young Philippe Amelot.

It's possible to adopt Philippe?

Yes, it's a wonder of our Civil Code.
You can adopt anyone.

As consenting adults.

It's led to many marvelous family feuds.

Bastard progeny needed protection.

However, in this instance,

the judge can request
the consent of your son, Martin.

So, you'll need some sharp arguments.

What is it that can't wait?

Well, I have a proposal for you.

Just for once, wait before you jump
on your high horse

and hear me out.

I'm listening.

I sense
you'd be prepared to leave the estate.

- You sense that?
- I haven't finished.

That's why I'm offering you
the apartment in Bordeaux.

100 m² on Allée de Tourny,
and a lump sum that we will agree upon

to help Martin start over.

We've no intention of leaving.

Martin's very attached to the estate.

I'm not very attached to Martin.

How much?

Get out.

I feel I should remind you...

That I'm in your house? No.

This is my home. I pay rent.
What goes on in your mind?

Are people nothing but toys to you?

Sorry?

Don't act older or dumber than you are.

That's enough. Get out.

Not so old and not so dumb!

Adopt me?
But I'm not an orphan.

It's a simplified form of adoption.

You remain your parents' son and heir
and become Paul's son and heir.

You can choose to use both family names.

I can't do that to them.

I agree. For now at least.
However, you and Paul de Marseul

can start a company

that will be granted a lease
for perhaps 18 years

on the whole estate,
vineyard and buildings.

That gives you both time
to work things out.

We can save the adoption for later,

when it's less painful.

I have no sense
of what all this implies.

A wonderful mark of trust.

The estate was valued
by the IRS at over 30 million euros.

Let's meet again next week.

I say you should think it over.

30 million euros!
What do you risk, after all?

Nothing.

Except missing out on 30 mil,
according to the attorney.

- What's he want in return?
- Nothing.

He wants a partner to run the estate.

They mentioned adoption,
but as I have parents...

Adoption? He's out of his mind!

That's why your father...

"Paul de Marseul with his son..."

It really upset him.

I said it was a misprint,
but the damage was done.

Here comes your father.

I'd rather not see him.
I can't stand the creep.

You never talk about her.

She was a wonderful woman.

Joyful.

Then you arrived 6 weeks early.
A puny little thing.

We thought you wouldn't make it.

But you clung on.

You're still clinging on.

Your mother changed completely.

Always anxious...

Dragging you
from one doctor to the next.

She overprotected you for 4 years,
and it killed her.

Snuffed out like a candle.

There you go.

Why are you telling me this?

I'm telling you

because it's pointless
you clinging to me.

I can't do it. You see?

You have to leave here.
For your own sake.

No, not today.
Let's give youth its head.

There you go. My son
and daughter-in-law are crying off.

A lesson in good manners.

Meursault Mon Plaisir,
produced by Roulot.

Miss,
it's just the four of us actually.

No respect for tradition.

I raise my glass

to you all.

Your son and I will perpetuate
what we started together.

Same again.

Excuse me.

I have something important
to tell my father.

Are you listening?

I'm having lunch, Martin.
I'm busy.

Busy, are you?

You blame me for my mother's death.

You're worse than cancer.

Listen carefully...

You can stuff your estate.

I'm gone.

You win.
You're on your own now...

with your wine and your money

that reek of death.

Same again!

Maybe you've had enough.

Thanks.

What are you staring at?

He's exhausted. We'd better go.

Out for the count.

My dear François,
in your state, it's fine.

Thanks for everything. Thank you.

Let's have dessert at the chef's table.

What is it now?

I found you under Dad
in his phone.

He was very lucky, you know.

He or she is about the size of a bean.

I'll show you the real one
in 197 days.

We thought we'd drop by
before we see the oenologist.

Oncologist!
It's not quite the same thing.

- How are you, sunshine?
- I'm okay.

You gave us a fright.
Come home soon.

We're not coming home.

We're going away.

For good. We're moving on.

- Don't do that.
- We must.

- We're clearing out.
- What do you mean?

Paul doesn't want him.

He changes sons like shoes.

- What can we do about it?
- You'll see...

He's waiting for a vacancy.

A bit brutal, perhaps.

Letting her down easy.

We're going to stop the chemo.
It has no impact anymore.

The important thing now is pain relief.

I'm sorry.

We'll get a second opinion.
We'll ask Paul to call...

We won't ask him for anything.

When I'm gone, I...

I'd like...

I mean...

What?

Nothing.

I want to go home.

I was just calling you.

To find out how it went,
your appointment.

The results were good.

We're even putting
the treatment on hold.

Great.

I'm so pleased.

I'd like us

to have a talk.

Sure. Right now?

Yes, but not here.

Take me for a drive.

Sorry, dad, I'm running late.
I'm due at the attorney's.

And I'm out tonight,
but tomorrow I'm all yours.

I gotta run.

So?

Looks like I won't be
cashing in my chips just yet.

- The test results were good?
- Stable, at least.

Stable. That counts as good news.

I forgot to lock the cellar.

Can you do it?
And crank up the ventilation.

You can't breathe down there.

Staff don't know their place anymore.

Is anyone there?

François!

We are ready for the incineration.

Go with them, I'll need the car.

Comfortable in your new shoes?

Subtitles: Simon John

Subtitling: CNST, Montreal