All language subtitles for De.Big.Fuck-up.S01E01.Tony.Manero.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD.5.1.H.264-playWEB

This is a true story.

But eighties cops are not
really known for their reliability.

So, as true as possible.

Yup, that's me. Jan Laureys.
Right, you better sit down.

Despite the beautiful setting,
this is a crazy story

about the Belgian state police
in the eighties.

A story that should have stayed untold,
because it never should have happened.

Then again, as you can see,

I was not concerned then
with what was allowed or not.

Shit.
-My father.

Your friend. He needs to go.

I will get him.

Eli. Eli.
Her dad has turned up. Come on.

Leila.

Put your shirt on.

Leila.

Everything is OK?
-Everything OK. Eli is gone.

Good.

Mr Laureys.

Hello, Mr Naybet.
-Dad.

You're back.
-Go to your room.

Is something wrong?
-Go to your room.

Come.

Hello, sir.
Did you have a great stay in Belgium?

You can say that. I had a meeting
with the Minister of Defence.

With my father? Really?
-And his wife.

My mum too?
-And his only daughter.

That must be a misunderstanding.
-Cut the bullshit.

The Minister's name is not even Laureys.
You're a crook.

That's right. It's the police.

And guess what?
I'm the one who made the call.

I think it's time for me to...

Jan.

Your bag.

I love you.

Please come back.

Cops, I never really liked them.

Probably because my dad
was a major in the state police.

He really wanted me
to follow in his footsteps.

But I did not fancy that.

That's the reason I ended up here.
Travelling around the world.

To be rid of him.

I also wanted to get rid of these cops.

OK, OK.

But that was less of a success.

Everyone out,
apart from the Belgian guy.

Yep. There I was.
In jail in North Africa.

The weather was still gorgeous,
the setting less so.

A smelly cell where the rats
lick your toes at night.

The only things you could score there
were TB or diarrhoea.

Just when I thought
it couldn't get any worse...

my dad turned up.

The major.

Hello, Jan.

How are you?

Gran sends her regards.

Mark as well.

I want to get out of here.

It's not quite that easy here, boy.

A man filed a complaint
for defiling his daughter.

They don't joke about this.
-I did nothing wrong.

They found drugs.

I spoke to the prosecutor.
There was someone with you.

If you give me your friend's name...

he might be able to pull some strings.

I'm no snitch.

You want to stay here.

Do you want to stay?
-No.

Then give up that name.
-I won't.

Give it.
-I will not.

Jan.

Get me out of here.

Please.

The court.

Be seated.

The prosecution.
-Your Honour.

The charge against the defendant is
drug trafficking and indecent assault.

The charges are sufficiently proven
to require a 20-year prison sentence.

How long?

Hello. Do something. Twenty years.
That's impossible.

I order you to calm down, sir.

Someone...

would like to address
the court, Your Honour.

Jan is my grandson, Your Honour.
He certainly has his faults.

But he has been unlucky in life.

His parents are divorced.
His elder brother died in an accident.

But deep down he is a good kid.

His granddad was a gendarme in Belgium.

He was a colonel.
His dad is a major in the state police.

Your Honour.

If you give him another chance, Jan
could also become a gendarme in Belgium.

I won't be a gendarme.

Don't think about your dad.
Do it for me.

And for your brother, Mark.
He really misses you. Please.

No.

We made a deal with the prosecution.

My father wasn't stupid.

Fly Gran all the way over here
so I would do what he wanted.

Dirtbag.

Your Honour.

If you are willing to give me another
chance, I will join the state police.

I swear to the Court,

and to my grandmother.

Your Honour,
Madam's testimony really touched me.

Seriously? Fuck.

The prosecutor.

The man was deeply touched
by my dad's generosity.

Maybe it is worthwhile to offer
this young man one last chance.

You are very lucky
with your family, young man.

I hope you do realise this.
Right, the sentence is suspended.

You are free to go where you like.

I went from one prison to another.

The gendarmerie was an elite force
with military discipline,

trying its hardest to maintain order.

Especially at the start of the eighties,
in the midst of the Cold War.

Our politicians wanted to protect us:

they installed nuclear weapons
all over Europe.

Not everyone was happy about this.

So, those people...
we had to give a good beating.

Go on then. Come on.

Cathy?

Jan?

Take a nice picture.

Goddammit.

I've had enough.

Seriously.

Are you still enjoying this?

If you don't like it, just leave?
-I can't.

Seriously. If I could,
this is where I would go.

Indonesia. It's an island.
I was there a few years ago.

If I had the money,
I would start a hotel or a diving club.

One or the other.

Don't you dream, Paul?
-The new department.

The CDI.

They are going after drug dealers
the American way.

They're looking for young recruits.

They're even flying in an American.

The Americans didn't
just bring their bombs.

The real story starts with this man:

Commander of the Gendarme Unit,
Alain Gantois.

And his assistant,
deputy chief Felix Vroman,

the gendarme who has become
one with the rulebook.

Gantois's dream

was to employ American methods
to tackle the drugs issue in Belgium.

He found support
with the then Minister of Defence.

That's how DEA agent Bob Eastman
ended up in Belgium.

Together they would make the CDI
the jewel in the Gendarme crown.

Drugs are one of today's major threats.

Fighting it should be a priority.

Using new techniques
against the unscrupulous criminals

is a great move forward.

I would love to be part of that.

Sounds good.

And you have
an impressive file, officer.

Your career path is flawless, impeccable.

Any further questions, Commander?

That will be it for now,
officer Misotten.

Thank you for coming.
We will get back to you.

Jan?
-Paul.

So, how did it go?
-I think it went OK. Are you going in?

I thought I might as well.
-OK.

Officer Laureys.

At ease.
-Good luck.

Officer Laureys
at your service, Commander.

At ease.

Officer, your uniform.

Are you always this sloppy, officer?

Please accept my apologies,
deputy chief.

Are you really Major Laureys' son?

I want to apologise again, deputy chief.

Officer, why do you see yourself as a
suitable candidate for this department?

I'm not sure I am suitable.

I was just curious about what will
be happening at the CDI.

Is it true we wouldn't have
to wear a uniform?

Hold on.

Roll me a joint.

Do as you're told, officer.

Rolling a joint? Surrounded by cops?

I wasn't sure to try my best or not.

But, as usual my ego got the upper hand.

Thank you.

Looks like you got
a long smoking break ahead, Felix.

Look who's here.

Baby brother.
-Hey, brother.

Come here, you.

You're wearing your uniform.
-I am for once.

The girls will love this.
-Thank you, Mark.

Do you know who I bumped into?
-No.

Cathy.
-Really?

She was taking pictures
at the manifestation.

Jan, I'm happy to see you.
You're looking well.

Hey, Gran.

You look good in that uniform.
-Thank you.

Officer Laureys at your service, Major.

At ease.

Look at the two of you.
What do you reckon? A picture?

I'd rather not, mum.

Picture.

I've been hearing things.
Breaking the rules left and right?

Disrespecting the uniform,
not saluting higher ranking officers.

It's almost as if you
want to be thrown out.

You wanted me to join
the state police, so I did.

Nobody insisted I make an effort.

Come on. A picture to please me.
-Right.

Let's get it over with.
-Wait.

Put it on.
-Of course.

OK, sure.

A picture taken with the Major.
Better get it right.

There.
-Really, Jan.

One for the family album.

Since '77 everyone
was under the spell of John Travolta.

Saturday Night Fever was hot.

All the guys wanted to be Tony Manero.

At least I did.

Come on. You see the resemblance, right?

The CDI seemed to be impressed
by my handiwork.

They made me a member.

If we were going to use
American methods, why not look...

like a real American.

Paul made it in too.
I was happy for him.

Then there was Vic Barbier
and Franky Denil.

They were in the state police
their whole lives and seemed to like it.

Gantois was also pretty keen.

He imagined his name on the front page
with historic drug busts.

The American was there as well.

'The ghost'. He hardly said a word.
Peculiar guy.

We were told
not to smoke in his presence.

He hated cigarette smoke.

But he was an expert on drugs.

Any questions?

Commander, I have a question
regarding the legal framework.

Incitement and infiltration
were a real no go in our training.

How exactly?

The fact that it is illegal here.

Officer, I assure you our operations
have been approved by the colonel.

And the public prosecutor?

What about them?
-Well, Commander,

even if the top approves,
that does not mean it is legal.

I assume we will be covering up
incitement and the like?

Using informers so we can keep the names
of the officers out of the reports?

With due respect,
do we have sufficient funds?

Incitement means setting up
our own drug deals.

We will need purchasing money.
Will it be provided?

At my previous job, I had to buy
my own bulletproof vest.

The department was underfunded.

All operational resources will be
provided for, superintendent.

Just checking.

Yes.

How far can we go in the field?

For credibility?

What do you mean?

If we will be hanging around dealers
we can't behave like nuns.

If we are asked to taste?

We are gendarmes.
We will stick to the internal rules.

I understand this is tricky for you.
But that is the way we operate,

officer Laureys.

As the deputy chief mentioned:
use your common sense.

We are drawing up protocols
for every possible situation.

It will become clear which lines
we do not cross. Clear? Get to it.

With that amazing framework,
we went to work.

Franky, Vic, Paul and myself.

Cruising the streets,
looking for incredible amounts of drugs.

The CDI would do a major swoop.

We would show them.

Right, boys, we had a complaint they
are dealing weed outside this school.

So let's try and find this dealer.

This is why a special DEA flew in?

The American has nothing to do with it.
These orders come from Felix himself.

He's obsessed with what happens
outside his nephews' school.

This is why we are here.

But the American is
an ordinary DEA agent, right?

What about you?
Are you an ordinary gendarme?

Or more particularly Major Laureys' son?

Is there a problem?

It depends. Like father like son?

I don't think so.

But, hey.

You tell me tonight.

Our aim was to disappear in the crowd.

Casually eavesdrop
to track down dealers.

Paul had to say very little
before everyone knew we were cops.

Where can I get hashish?

What?
-Hashish?

You might as well tell them
you are a gendarme.

Look. If you want to score drugs,
you have to be discreet. Got it?

I'm sorry.

I do the talking from now on.

Did you guys fart in there?
-What?

Did you guys fart in there?
-No, why?

Because everyone came out running.

There were no dealers.
-There were no dealers?

Someone did tip us off, though.
-Really?

They said to try the Excelsior,
further down.

It's a student haunt.
There is dealing there.

Right, the Excelsior.

Take a seat. Have a beer.
I won't be long.

What are you up to?

Have a beer and keep your mouth shut.
Can you manage?

A beer, please.

Hello, Eli.
-Jan, buddy.

How are you?

Where is your uniform?
-Different suit now.

You're no longer a gendarme?

Better watch out.

Are you here to arrest me?
-No, you know me.

We're looking for a dealer
selling to schoolkids.

Not me. I don't bother with youngsters.

I know, Eli. But you might know
who we are looking for?

You do.

Is it someone
you would like to get rid of?

I can help you get rid of competition.

Is that part of your job?

Wait. Look.

You pass this number on to that dealer.

It dials in to a colleague
who is looking for drugs.

We arrange a meeting.

Pigs buying drugs? That is allowed?

In the States it is. And now here.

Make sure he calls.

And you lose a rival.

At your service.

So?

It's going to work out.

Where are you going?
-Aren't we done?

Nice beer?
-Sure.

Paul, we worked hard.

Now we can relax a little.

That's right.

Cheers.

Cheers.

Are you ill?

No, but my wife is ill.

My daughter is ill.

And my mother-in-law.

Her as well.

What? Is your mother-in-law ill as well?

No. My mother-in-law is in our house.

They're here.

They're drunk.

Sorry, it took a little longer.
-No, really?

Yes, it did.

They will call you, Franky.
-Who's calling?

The dealer.

He couldn't talk here.
So I gave him your number.

Name?

The name of the dealer.

Micky or something.
I don't think it's his real name.

You reckon?

Good job, guys.

That calls for a drink. Marcellino's?

Maybe I should go back to the office?
-No way.

We stick together.

Marcellino's.

Marcellino's?

Great club.
The kind of club built with dirty money.

It may be hard to imagine,
but Marcellino's was a place

where those in charge of law enforcement
would have a beer

with all kinds of criminals.

And it was Vic and Franky's local,
but also

for Didier le Fou.

He was behind many robberies
on cash transport vans.

The prosecutors used to frequent it too.

Deputy prosecutor Van Rillaer,
who by some coincidence

had the files
of those same robberies on his desk.

Ferret was the drugs division.

The boy scouts.

Time for their cocoa.

He was not particularly happy with the
new competition within the state police.

But I had my mind on other things.

Sweet Nathalie.

Hi, Vic.

Franky.
-How are you?

Hello, boys.

And the day at the office
got more interesting still.

What do you want to drink?
-Four gin and tonics.

A coke, please.
-No way. Four gin and tonics.

Give here. This one's for you.
There you go.

Things were not so bad at the CDI.

Vic and Franky knew
where to find some fun.

Just get it down.

Finish it.

A good gendarme had to be able to booze.

Come on. Down in one.

Finish it.

Another gin and tonic for this guy.

Get it down, I say.
Just finish your gin and tonic.

And Paul wasn't a boozer.

Me too.

Here, this is where I want to live.

In a beach hut.
-What will you do?

Nothing, Vic. Have a swim.
Enjoy the sun and life in general.

Sounds a bit dull.

Right, the very penultimate one.
-Nathalie.

Vic, we had enough.
Could you leave us, Nathalie?

Is that right, Franky?

It's OK, hon.
We have something to discuss.

Party pooper.

You can really keep
your mouth shut apparently.

I can't say I noticed.

You were in jail over there?

But your daddy got you out.
-So you checked up on me?

Of course. What did you expect?

There was someone else involved.

But you never gave up his name.

So, you're not a snitch.

I'm not.

Unlike your father.

You know we'll get into loads
of trouble at the CDI, don't you?

They give us carte blanche,
without stating how far we can go.

Gantois does not want to know.
Top officers look the other way.

We're going to get
into heaps of trouble.

If you say so.

Will the Major's son
screw his colleagues as daddy did?

Or will he do the right thing,
as a true gendarme?

My dad doesn't think
I'm a true gendarme.

What Franky is trying to say:

If we get into shit
just for doing our jobs,

and Gantois doesn't help us out,
we will need someone we can rely on.

Get it?

Someone who will do anything,
and I mean anything,

to get his colleagues out of the shit.

You get it?

Anything.

Of course.

Right then.

Come on guys, let's have another drink.

What about you?

Did you wash with bleach? So
the other guy goes 'Orders are orders'.

Major Laureys.

Attention.

Superintendent Denil.

At your service, Major.

Go figure you ended up here.

Officer Laureys.

So, officer Laureys.

From Friday on, you go to the medic
weekly for a urine sample.

It will be tested for drugs.

If you test positive...

you're out.

Understood?

Understood, Commander.

Why do you always screw me over?

Can't you just leave me alone?

Are you doing drugs?

Of course not.
-So what's the issue?

Don't expect me back here.

Jan, please stay.
You only just got here.

I'm sorry, Gran.

As long as he's here,
there's no place for me.

I'm leaving.

You just got here.
-Yes.

Are you OK?

Yes, I am.

I just have to go. OK?

I'll be back.

Have fun.

Have you seen Eli?
-No, I haven't.

There was Cathy again.

She was the daughter of a friend of
my mother's. I taught her to smoke weed.

To thank her.
Because I lost my virginity to her.

Hello, Cathy.

Officer Laureys.

How did you get there?

Long story.

And you? A photographer.
-A reporter for the Red Banner.

You turned commie?

Comrade Serclaes?

More or less.
-What do mum and dad think?

They love it. A proletarian revolution.

So...

I thought property was theft?

It's not mine.
-Your mum's?

Confiscated for the people.

And you?

Are you being influenced by that
imperialist bastard you're working with?

What?

The American you're working with.
-What's up with him?

What is he doing here?

He's just here to help us get started.

What?

It sounds like the CIA.
-But he is DEA.

You really believe that?

I don't really have an opinion.

I'm just a poor gendarme, a
powerless tool held by the ruling class.

I'm not planning
to stick around for long, anyway.

Just long enough to earn some money.
And then I'll be gone.

Does it pay that well, being a gendarme?

I just want to get out of here.

Away from my dad.

Away from me.

You can come along.

Hold on.

Look.

Wow. Beautiful.

It's Bali.

Bali?

A long shot. It was
the only thing that kept me going.

It may sound pathetic,

but it seemed like the only way
to get rid of my dad forever.

God...

Are you OK there, Paul?
-Goddammit.

Do you want me to hold it?
-Sure, sure.

It sounds easy, peeing in a condom.

You think that is going to work?
-Pollentier did it.

In the Tour de France no less.

Pollentier got caught.

I am no Pollentier.

Same thing next week?

You don't expect me
to do this every week?

Just a little while longer.
Until my system is clean.

But Jan...

Officer Laureys.

Here you go.

That way please.

What are we doing here?
-You'll see.

So the commie agitator tells
all the factory workers:

When the commies
have taken over the country,

they'll get strawberries
and ice cream...

Guys.

Bruno, this is Franky, Vic.

That's Jan.

Guys, this is Bruno Vleminckx.

Anyway, as I was saying.

So the commie agitator tells
all the factory workers

that when the communists take over,

everyone will get strawberries
and ice cream every single day.

One of the factory workers
puts up his hand:

What if we don't like
strawberries and ice cream?

To which the commie replies:

When the communists take over you
will like strawberries and ice cream.

I didn't hear you laugh, Jan.

You didn't like my little joke?

Are you a communist?

What, me?

No way. I'm a capitalist.

I love money.

That wasn't the question, my friend.

No Bob, I'm not a communist.

Good.

What not everyone in the world
seems to realise yet,

is the moment the second World War
ended the Third one began.

This time it isn't against the Nazis.

It's against the Soviets.

All the apparatchiks
in the Kremlin ever wanted

is to turn everyone
on the entire planet into a communist.

So they send out their lackeys.

'Boris, Vladimir, go out
and spread our evil doctrine.

Tell the people of the free world
to give up their good lives,

their homes, cars,
their holidays in the sun.

To take up arms
against their democratic governments.'

You know what?

Boris and Vladimir have been
busting their balls and are succeeding.

Now the Beard has taken over Cuba.

The Vietcong have taken over Vietnam

and the Sandinistas
have taken over Nicaragua.

Dominoes are falling.

See what I'm saying?

In every country
where leftist forces have seized power,

little by little we are losing the war.

These half-assed European leaders
don't want to act, but I do.

We do.

Uncle Sam doesn't like to lose.

We have no choice but to play
the exact same game

as these vodka-drinking motherfuckers.

We've got to send Boris and Vladimir
back to Siberia where they belong.

That's why I am here.

Asking for your help.

Will you stand by and watch country
after country being taken by the commies

or will you stand with me
and defend the free world?

I didn't know this is
what the DEA did, but...

The forces of freedom
in Nicaragua need to regain power.

With weapons.

Fine Belgian weapons.

Provided by our friend Bruno here.

Unfortunately, weapons cost money.

Our friends in Nicaragua, the Contras,

they can only pay in drugs.

See what I'm getting at?

And all of this is legal.

You guys are cops.

So it must be legal.

Right?

Right.

Good.

Bruno.

I told you
you were going to get paid in drugs.

Us, selling drugs?

That seemed strange.

But if Bob said it was OK,
why would we be doubting?

He was right.
At the end of the day, we were cops.

We were the good ones.

That's correct. 1.5 million.

That's my money.
I gave my personal guarantee.

What's this?

A fucking shit situation.