All language subtitles for Portrait.of.a.Lady.on.Fire.2019.FRENCH.1080p.BluRay.H264.AAC-VXT

First, my contours.

The outline.

Not too fast.

Take time to look at me.

See how my arms are placed.

My hands.

Who brought that painting out?

From the stock. I shouldn't have?

No.

Did you paint it?

Yes.

A long time ago.

What's the title?

Portrait of a Lady on Fire.

Where do I go?

Head straight up toward the trees.

I'm Marianne.

It was a reception room.

I've never seen it used.

-Have you been here long?
-Three years.

Do you like it here?

Yes.

I'll let you get dry.

Sorry, I helped myself.

I was hungry.

-Is there any wine?
-Yes.

May I be curious?

What is your young mistress like?

I don't know her well.

You've been here three years.

She only arrived a few weeks ago.

Where from?

The Benedictines.

Has she left holy orders?

They brought her home.

Because her sister died.

She was the one due to marry?

Did disease take her?

No.

Will you manage it?

Manage what?

To paint her.

Why do you ask?

Another painter was here.

He wasn't able to.

What happened?

I don't know.

I'm afraid it's the only one.

She has no dresses yet
and wears her convent clothes.

-She has blond hair?
-Yes.

This will do.

Do you recognize it?

My father painted it.

One of his first.

It was in Milan, before my marriage.

My daughter's suitor is Milanese.

We'll go there if he likes the portrait.

You'll leave.

I have to tell you...

she wore out one painter before you.

In a very simple manner:
she refused to pose.

-He never saw her face.
-Why won't she be painted?

She refuses this marriage.

You must paint her without her knowing.

She thinks you're a companion for walks.

She's delighted.

Since she arrived, I don't let her out.

Why not?

I wasn't wary enough with her sister.

She thinks I'll watch over her.

And you, observe her.

Is painting her that way feasible?

More than being a companion.

The portrait arrived here before me.

When I first entered this room,

I found myself facing my image
hanging on the wall.

She was waiting for me.

She's waiting to go out.

Come in.

Tell me, what happened to your mistress?

How did she die?

We were walking by the cliffs.

She was behind me and vanished.

I saw her broken body below.

-Did you see her fall?
-No.

I think she jumped.

Why do you think that?

She didn't cry out.

I've dreamt of that for years.

Dying?

Running.

One must show the ear
and study its cartilage closely,

even if covered with hair.

It must be of a warm and transparent hue,

except for the hole,
which is always strong.

Its tone, even in light,
must yield to the cheek...

which is more prominent.

Did you bring a book?

Yes.

May I borrow it?

I'll fetch it.

Thank you.

It's odd you sleep here.

Miss?

Miss!

She's waiting.

-Is she downstairs?
-Yes.

I must cover you up. It's windy.

I'd like to bathe.

On a calmer day.

Yes.

How long will you stay?

Six more days.

Do you swim?

I don't know.

It's too dangerous if you don't.

I meant, I don't know if I can swim.

How was your day?

Difficult.

She always stays ahead of me
and walks alone on the beach.

Have you started painting?

Not yet.

I haven't even seen her smile.

Have you tried to be funny?

Is it unfinished?

My sister was embroidering it.

Do you think she wanted to die?

You're the first person
unafraid to ask that.

Apart from you?

Not out loud. But yes.

In her last letter, she apologized.
For no reason.

What could she be apologizing for?

For leaving me her fate.

You make it sound terrible.

What do you know of my marriage?

You're to wed a Milanese gentleman,
that's all.

That's all I know too.

You see why it worries me.

Put that way, yes.

I put it the way it is.

You'd rather have stayed in the convent?

It's a life that has advantages.

There's a library.

You can sing or hear music.

And equality is a pleasant feeling.

I found the convent unjust.

I left after my first communion.

They punished me
for drawing in my notebooks' margins.

You draw?

Yes. A little.

What about you? When will you marry?

I don't know if I will.

-You don't have to?
-No.

I'll take over my father's business.

You can choose.
That's why you don't understand me.

I understand you.

How are your days?

We return late
and I have little light to work.

I'll keep her here tomorrow afternoon.
You'll be free to make progress.

Perhaps you could allow her
to go out alone.

Fear not. She isn't sad, but angry.

You think I don't know her anger?

I know it well.

Yes, I know it too.

Where did you learn Italian?

In Milan.

You know Milan?

I can't wait to go back.

It's 20 years since I was there.

Tell her Milan is beautiful.

And that life will be sweeter.

She doesn't talk much to me.

I'm not marrying her to the local gentry.

I'm trying... to take her elsewhere.

She'll be less bored there.

And you too.

Indeed. Why not?

I'll leave for the coast
at the same time as you.

If you don't have to return to Paris,

I have a friend
who'd like her portrait done.

Thank you.

It won't be easy.

My friend is particularly ugly.

She's very ugly!

You've made me laugh.

It's ages since that happened.

I didn't do anything.

You're here.

It takes two to be funny.

Marianne?

Do you have tobacco?

Yes.

Your mother will let you
go out alone tomorrow.

You'll be free.

Being free is being alone?

You don't think so?

I'll tell you tomorrow.

I'll go to mass.

To receive Communion?

I want to hear music.

Organ music is pretty but bleak.

It's all I know.

-You've never heard an orchestra?
-No.

Have you?

Tell me about it.

It's not easy to relate music.

What is it?

A piece that I love.

Is it merry?

Not merry, but it's lively.

It's about a coming storm.

The insects sense it.

They become agitated.

Then the storm breaks.

With lightning and the wind.

I can't remember it.

You'll hear the rest.
Milan is a city of music.

Then I can't wait for Milan.

I'm saying there will be good things.

You're saying that, now and then...

I'll be consoled.

How was mass?

-You look cheerful.
-I sang a lot.

-Are you leaving me already?
-Yes.

Will you come out tomorrow?

Yes.

In solitude,
I felt the liberty you spoke of.

But I also felt I missed you.

The portrait is finished.

Are you happy with it?

I think so.

Let's go to see it.

May I ask a favor?

Go on.

I'd like to show her first.

And tell her the truth myself.

I understand.

She's very fond of you.

How do you know?

She talks about you.

Héloïse...

I must tell you something.

I'm a painter.

I came here to paint you.

I've finished your portrait.

I see now why you praised
the charms of exile.

You felt guilty.

Are you leaving?

Later today. With your mother.

Then I shall bathe today.

Well, can you swim?

I still don't know if I can.

Did you see me?

You can float.

Let's go back.

It explains all your looks.

You're saying nothing?

Is that me?

Yes.

Is that how you see me?

It's not only me.

What do you mean, not only you?

There are rules, conventions, ideas.

You mean there's no life?

No presence?

Your presence is made up
of fleeting moments that may lack truth.

Not everything is fleeting.

Some feelings are deep.

The fact it isn't close to me,

that I can understand.

But I find it sad it isn't close to you.

How do you know it isn't close to me?

I didn't know you were an art critic.

I didn't know you were a painter.

I'll fetch my mother.

It wasn't good enough. I'll start again.

You're joking.

I'm sorry. It wasn't satisfactory.

You're incompetent then. You can leave.

She's staying.

I'll pose for her.

Really?

Yes.

Why?

What does it change for you?

Nothing.

I'll be away five days.

When I return, it will be finished.

And I decide, not you.

Understood?

Say good-bye like when you were little.

Sit down.

Turn your chest towards me.

A little more.

Turn your head slightly.

Rest your arm here.

-Not like that. May I?
-Yes.

Take your hand.

The other way.

Like this.

-Are you comfortable?
-Yes.

-Can you hold this position?
-Yes.

Look at me.

The heat will do you good.

The cherrystones hold it in.

Thank you.

I usually have one ready,

but I haven't had my monthlies.

More than once?

Three times.

-Is this the first time?
-Yes.

-Do you want a child?
-No.

I was waiting for Madam to leave
to see to it.

-I can't.
-A little more.

I can't go on.

No.

It mustn't be in flower.

It's ready.

-Will it be enough?
-We'll see.

Has it happened to you?

Yes.

You've known love.

Yes.

What is it like?

It's hard to say.

I mean, how does it feel?

I can't make you smile.

I feel I do it and then it vanishes.

Anger always comes to the fore.

Definitely with you.

I didn't mean to hurt you.

-You haven't hurt me.
-I have, I can tell.

When you're moved,
you do this with your hand.

-Really?
-Yes.

And when you're embarrassed...

you bite your lips.

And when you're annoyed...

you don't blink.

You know it all.

Forgive me, I'd hate to be in your place.

We're in the same place.

Exactly the same place.

Come here.

Come.

Step closer.

Look.

If you look at me,

who do I look at?

When you don't know what to say,
you touch your forehead.

When you lose control,
you raise your eyebrows.

And when you're troubled...

you breathe through your mouth.

-I didn't touch!
-I win.

I win.

You touched it.

Try to concentrate.

Your turn.

-You're cheating.
-I'm not cheating, I play fast.

-Go on.
-Two.

-Two cards.
-Two.

Two sixes.

-I win.
-You win, yes.

Your turn.

No, go on.

Go on!

Uncover your throat.

More.

You have my future husband in mind.

Do you paint nude models too?

Women, yes.

Why not men?

I'm not allowed to.

Why not?

Because I'm a woman.

Is it a matter of modesty?

It's mostly to prevent us
from doing great art.

Without any notion of male anatomy,
the major subjects escape us.

-How do you manage?
-I do it in secret.

It's tolerated.

What do you tell your models...
to amuse them?

-Are you bored?
-No.

I'm interested in you.

Your complexion is remarkable today.

You're very elegant.

You pose beautifully.

You're pretty.

That's what I tell them.

"Then, striking the lyre
to accompany his words, he sang:

'Oh, Gods of the Underworld
to which all mortals descend,

I am here to seek my wife.

A viper that she trod on

poisoned her and robbed her of her youth.

I beseech you,

unravel the thread
of Eurydice's early demise.

All will be yours.

We all end up here.

This is our final abode.

You reign over the human race.

After living out her fair span of years,
she will be yours.

If the fates refuse my wife this favor,
I am determined not to return.

You may delight in both our deaths."'

-He's convincing.
-Very .

I hope they say yes.

"Then, for the first time,

tears wet the cheeks of the Eumenides,
won over by his words.

Neither the king's bride,

nor the ruler of Hades
could resist his prayer.

They sent for Eurydice.

She was there, among the recent spirits,

and approached, limping from her wound.

She was returned to Orpheus on condition

that he would not look back until outside
or the favor would be void.

In deep silence, they took a sloping path,

steep and dark, shrouded in thick mist.

They were nearing the surface,

approaching the threshold, when,

fearing losing Eurydice
and impatient to see her,

her loving spouse turned
and she was instantly drawn back.

She reached out for his embrace
and wished to hold him.

Her poor hands
clutched only the empty air.

Dying a second time, she did not complain.

His sole fault was loving her."

That's horrible.

Poor woman. Why did he turn?

He was told not to but did, for no reason.

-There are reasons.
-You think so?

Read it again.

"They were nearing the surface,
approaching the threshold,

when, fearing losing Eurydice
and impatient to see her,

her loving spouse turned."

No, he can't look at her
for fear of losing her.

That's no reason.
He was told not to do that.

He's madly in love. He can't resist.

I think Sophie has a point.

He could resist.
His reasons aren't serious.

-Perhaps he makes a choice.
-What choice?

He chooses the memory of her.
That's why he turns.

He doesn't make the lover's choice,
but the poet's.

"She spoke a last farewell

that scarcely reached his ears

and fell back into the abyss."

Perhaps she was the one who said...

"Turn around."

She says I'm still pregnant
and to come back in two days.

I'll come with you.

What about Héloïse?

She isn't well. She doesn't want dinner.

I thought you had been scared off.

You were right.

I am scared.

Do all lovers feel
they're inventing something?

I know the gestures.

I imagined it all, waiting for you.

You dreamt of me?

No.

I thought of you.

You don't want to come anymore?

I'm coming.

Get up.

Wait.

That's good.

Lie down.

Lift your legs.

There.

Thank you.

Deep breaths.

Look.

There, it's over.

Go to bed.

I'll watch over her.

I don't want to go to bed.

Sophie?

Are you asleep?

No.

Can you get up?

Help her.

Get your things.

We're going to paint.

Sophie.

Come here.

Sit down.

Come closer.

Lie down.

Look at her.

Arch your back a little.

Sophie, straighten your head.

Yes.

Stop that.

What?

What you're doing.

Be serious.

Keep still.

I bought it from a woman at the feast.

It's a plant.

She said it makes you fly.

Have you ever tried it?

Never.

-Do you want to?
-Now?

She said it makes time last longer.

Your eyes.

You have to drink.

This time, I like it.

Perhaps because I know you better.

-Perhaps I've changed.
-Perhaps.

You didn't destroy the last one for me.

You did it for you.

I'd like to destroy this one too.

Why?

Through it, I give you to another.

It's terrible.

Now you possess me a little,
you bear me a grudge.

-I don't.
-You do.

You know you do.

You're not on my side now.

You blame me for what comes next.
My marriage.

You don't support me.

You're right.

Go on.

Say what burdens your heart.

I believed you braver.

I believed you braver too.

That's it then.

You find me docile.

Worse.

You imagine I'm collusive.

You imagine my pleasure.

It's a way of avoiding hope.

Imagine me happy or unhappy
if that reassures you.

But do not imagine me guilty.

You'd prefer me to resist.

Yes.

Are you asking me to?

Answer me.

No.

Have you seen Héloïse?

No. She isn't in her room.

We've had news.

Madam returns tomorrow.

Very well.

Will you be ready?

Yes.

Forgive me.

Forgive me.

Your mother returns tomorrow.

Come here.

With me.

When do we know it's finished?

At one point, we stop.

Finished.

Who is that for?

For me.

You can reproduce that image to infinity.

Yes.

After a while...

you'll see her

when you think of me.

I'll have no image of you.

Do you want an image of me?

Yes.

Which one?

That one.

Give me your book.

Give me a figure.

28.

Your eyes are closing.

Don't go to sleep.

I feel something new.

What?

Regret.

Don't regret.

Remember.

I'll remember when you fell asleep
in the kitchen.

I'll remember...

your dark stare when I beat you at cards.

I'll remember the first time you laughed.

You took your time being funny.

That's true.

I wasted time.

I wasted time too.

I'll remember
the first time I wanted to kiss you.

When was that?

You didn't notice?

At the gathering around the bonfire.

I wanted to, yes.

But that wasn't the first time.

Tell me.

No, you tell me.

When you asked if I had known love.

I could tell the answer was yes.

And that it was now.

I remember.

-Good morning.
-Good morning.

They're here.

Very good.

For you.

Thank you.

Héloïse. Come with me.

-In a minute.
-No, now.

I have a gift for you.

I'll say good-bye here.

Good-bye.

Have a safe journey.

Turn around.

You've made me look so sad.

You were.

I'm not anymore.

I saw her again a first time.

Are you standing guard?

I'm observing reactions.

Do you want mine?

This Orpheus is excellent.

Your father is in shape.

It's my painting.
I submitted it in his name.

Usually, he's portrayed before he turns
or after, as Eurydice dies.

Here, they seem to be saying good-bye.

I saw her one last time.

She didn't see me.