All language subtitles for En.therapie.S01E23.1080p.BluRay.DD+5.1.x264-SbR_track4_[eng]

- Now go.
- Well, since I’m here...

- Leave me alone!
- I have to pay him.

Give me the money.

Tell the madwoman to go, please.

Sorry, Doctor. I’m here to pay you.

She’s a liar, she’s spying on me!

What do I owe you, Doctor?

- It can wait.
- Did you hear that? Clear off!

Camille, please.

- Come in for a minute.
- Don’t fall for her victim act.

It’s ridiculous.

She can’t bear that I’m going
to my dad’s over Christmas.

You really think he’ll have you
for two whole weeks?!

- You’ll be all alone, anyway.
- But I’m already alone!

Leave now,
or I’ll throw myself under a truck!

Camille!

That really isn’t necessary right now.

I’m embarrassed. I’d better go.

Yes, don’t worry, it’ll be fine.

- Have a nice day.
- You too, Madam.

IN THERAPY

CAMILLE,
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 16, 2015, 11 A.M.

It’s my dad.
We’re making plans for Christmas.

I thought we had a pact.

I’ve turned it off now.

I’m talking about the suicide threat.

I said that to get her off my back.

A pact is a pact.

My pact is with you, not her.

Can I still trust you?

I swear!
I really don’t want to kill myself.

And something mental happened
yesterday.

- You want to talk about it?
- You won’t believe me.

Why won’t I?

You’re like my mom, you don’t believe
I’m connected to my dad.

I’m listening.

Last night I dreamed about him.

I was waiting for him in a hotel room,

and I sensed he was in danger.

It was really stressful.

And I still felt stressed
when I woke up.

I felt really uneasy.

So I called him.

And guess what.

He’d been burgled.

They took a camera and his Mac,
with the edit of his latest video on it.

Do you believe
I’m connected to my dad now?

You don’t know what to say.

Was the decision to spend Christmas together
a result of that?

No, it was decided ages ago
that I’d go to Brussels.

- You’re going for two weeks?
- Yes.

That’s quite a break.

Knowing your schedule, I imagine
it’s taken quite a bit of organization.

It’s the school holidays.

- I was thinking of your training.
- I can swim there.

But if your father came to Paris,

you could see him
and keep up with your training.

No, my dad hates Paris.

And he’s going to take me to Denmark.
He’s making a film with Agnes Obel.

How long is it since you saw him?

Since the summer.

We went to his friend’s place
in the South of France.

He was with that chick.

“That chick”?

His new girlfriend. An actress.

I can’t remember her name. German.

Your accident was in October, right?

Yeah, so?

I seem to remember

that you said
your father came to see you in hospital.

I never said that.

You refuse to understand.

We don’t need
to be together to be connected.

Will his German girlfriend be there
over Christmas?

I suppose so.

Does that bother you?

Do you think that because he’s with her
we can’t enjoy each other’s company?

When was the last time
it was just the two of you together?

I went to see him in Brussels
when I was thirteen.

He was living in a squat.

But everyone had gone home
for the holidays.

It was just the two of us
in this huge place.

It was great.

We could rollerblade
through the whole flat.

Then I had to come home
because of my swimming.

I had my training, as usual.

And in the taxi
taking me to the station...

I thought I was going to puke,
my guts felt horrible.

Horrible how?

On the last day
his Dutch girlfriend came back.

The stupid cow
made a disgusting cake.

It was still heavy on my stomach
when I left.

I started heaving in the taxi.

The taxi driver was going mad.

He spoke to me in Flemish,
I didn’t understand a word.

Your father wasn’t with you?

No, he had to finish some work thing.

Can we go back
to your dream of last night?

What’s the point?

I sensed my dad was in danger,
and he was. That’s the important thing.

Freud developed the idea

that dreams inform us
about what’s happening inside us.

Yeah, the subconscious.

Exactly.

But it wasn’t a dream,

more like a nightmare.

I don’t see
what it could have been telling me.

It was horrible, actually.

Do you have them too?

Nightmares?
Yes, of course, like everyone.

What happens in yours?

There’s a recurring one
that I’ve had since I was a child.

I’m on a swing in a park.

All of a sudden I hear my mother
calling me, but I can’t see her.

I can only hear her voice.

It’s barely audible,
just a whisper in the air.

So I try to get off the swing,
but I can’t.

Which is ridiculous because the ground
is just a few centimeters under my feet.

But I can’t.

And I keep swinging.

What do you think it means?

Maybe it means I’m terrified
by the idea of disappointing my mother.

Not being there for her,
not pleasing her.

Did you ever disappoint her?

For real, I mean.

I hope not.

But probably.

But let’s get back to your dream.

I was waiting for my dad
in this hotel room.

And someone knocked on the door.

I opened it.

It was a man.

He asked me where my dad was.

And I said he wouldn’t be long.

But as I said that
I realized I’d made a big mistake.

I realized that this man was a terrorist
and that he was after my dad.

But it was too late.

He sat down next to me,

and we started
waiting for my dad together.

I knew that when my dad walked in,

the terrorist would jump on him
and kill him.

It was horrible.

I didn’t know how to
stop it from happening.

Did you know the hotel room?

No, I don’t think so.

Could you try to describe it?

It was all dark.

The furniture, the bed...

It was more like a tunnel or a cave.

The only light
was at each end of this huge room.

And the terrorist?

Can you describe him?

The same, I could barely see him.

He kept talking to me,
but I didn’t understand.

Was he speaking a foreign language?

No, French.

But...

the words were sort of jumbled up.

It was incomprehensible.

Can you make anything of that?

A man sitting next to you,

speaking a language
you don’t understand,

doesn’t bring anything to mind?

The only one who talks like that is you.

But that’s impossible.

I’m sure it wasn’t you.

The person in the dream
may not be exactly the same.

They’re like an escapee.

I don’t understand.

The dream is a way

of letting out what your waking mind
keeps deep inside.

But, seeing its secrets escaping
into fresh air,

the guardian of sleep, panicking,
disguises them with whatever’s at hand.

But if you pay attention,

it’s easy to recognize
the fugitive beneath the disguise.

What is it?

The terrorist...

was wearing shoes like that.

So it was you?

I don’t know.

Do you think I could harm your father?

Of course it was you,
it could only be you.

You’re always criticizing my dad.

Why do you say that?

You’re always knocking him down,
insinuating that he isn’t there for me.

I don’t remember doing that.

I saw your face when I said
he didn’t visit me in hospital.

May I suggest another interpretation
of your dream?

Go on, then.

The subconscious sometimes
attributes an intention or feeling

to someone other than its originator,

to make the idea acceptable
to the dreamer.

It’s possible that your invention

chose me as the terrorist character

to permit the expression
of something that’s bothering you.

Which would be?

Hurting your father?

That’s rubbish!

It’s the opposite.
I’d never want to hurt him.

Maybe you simply want
to punish him for something.

- For what?
- I don’t know.

It’s just a supposition.

Let’s get back to your dream.

You said he was a terrorist.

What made you immediately assume
he was a terrorist?

He had the look.

Like on the execution videos
that you saw at last week’s party?

Yeah, like that.

Do you still think those images
had no effect on you?

I didn’t dream about beheadings.

It’s like porn videos,
they do nothing to me.

- Your father works in video, right?
- Hang on!

- What are you getting at?
- Nothing.

I’m just linking things.

It’s like casting your net into the sea.

You don’t know what you’ll catch.

If you think my dad makes sick stuff...

Check him out online, he’s an artist!

I was casting my net
without any hidden motives.

You think my dad’s a perv.

I assure you I don’t.

Has your father been working
in video clips for a long time?

Did I say something funny?

What year is this? “Video clips”?

Not even my mom says that.

Tell me what I should say, then.

Just “videos”.

Yes, my dad’s been doing it forever.
From before it was trendy.

My mom even appears
in one of his early... “video clips”.

She wasn’t too ugly back then.

Was she a singer?

No, she was sort of an actress,
but I bet she was crap.

There’s nothing artistic about her.

But as my dad
wasn’t making enough money at the time,

she worked in a clothes shop.

I think my dad used her in a video
as a present.

- A present?
- Yeah, like a treat, to make her happy.

Has he offered you that treat too?

Playing in one of his videos?
Are you mad?

What’s wrong?

No, I’m just surprised by your reaction.

Wouldn’t you like to be in one?

No way.

Anyway, I’m too young,

I’m not a singer or an actress, and...

What’s wrong?

Tell me what you’re thinking.

There was this woman...

Myriam.

The singer in a rap group
that my dad made a video for.

What’s made you suddenly think of her?

No, it’s just that my dad
was fucking her.

I caught them at it once.

It was a Wednesday.

The training
had been canceled because of...

some problem at the pool.

Something to do with the chlorine.

So I went home earlier than usual.

My mom was at work,
there was no one in the flat,

so I went down to the cellar,
where my dad had his studio.

When I got there,

I saw that the red light over the door
wasn’t on.

When it was on,
you absolutely couldn’t go in.

It meant my dad
was in the middle of mixing the sound.

In his studio.

But as it wasn’t on,
I went in without knocking.

And there...

I saw him with that woman, on the sofa.

Did they see you too?

Totally.

My dad got up.

He wasn’t totally undressed.

He came over to me,

and looked at me.

I think I just said,

“The light wasn’t on.”

What did he say?

I can’t remember.

Something like,
“Shouldn’t you be swimming?”

Then...

he closed the door
and I saw the red light come on.

How old were you?

I don’t remember. Eight?

Look at your face!
It’s not the end of the world.

My dad’s an artist.

Marriage and faithfulness are rules
for people like you and my mom.

He’s above all that.

Did you tell you mother what you saw?

No.

Did your father tell you not to?

No.

Yet you knew right away
that it was a secret.

Maybe your idea of being connected
stems from that.

That day you communicated with him
without words.

Is that your big theory?

I was traumatized by seeing my dad
with another woman?

If that was so, millions of girls
would kill themselves every day.

That isn’t my point.

Look, let’s move on to something else.

Why did you never tell your mother
what you saw?

Do you do it on purpose?

After the divorce you could have.

I’ve told you, me and my mom never talk.

Don’t you think
the two things could be linked?

Keeping that secret

and not communicating with your mother.

No! I don’t talk to her
because she’s stupid.

I think she even imagines
my dad will come back.

If you told her the truth,
she might stop deluding herself.

That’s not for me to do,
I’m the child, she’s the adult! Shit!

I really want to scream at her
that he doesn’t give a fuck about her!

So she’ll start her life again!

She pisses me off!

Then talk to her.

It’s not up to me to do that.

It’s not my job!

You think she should have just guessed?

Are you angry because she didn’t?

It was obvious.

In your dream, maybe your subconscious
allowed you to be angry at your father.

Why? Because
he slept with another woman?

No.

Because he made you keep
too heavy a secret

for your age, much too early,

Maybe revealing this secret
would sever your connection.

Maybe you’ve never told your mother
because, deep down,

you still hope
they might get back together.

I’m not stupid, I know they won’t.

There are many adults who,
decades later,

still hope their parents might
get back together. It’s not ridiculous.

But if my dad came back,

he’d be just the same
and end up leaving her again.

Only her?

What?

It seems to me that he left you too.

No, he just moved out.
He’s still my dad.

And always will be.
But he’s no longer there.

You don’t see him very often,
he didn’t visit you in hospital...

He was working!

Why won’t you let yourself
be angry with him?

But she’s the one...

who annoys me.

Why?

Because she pisses me off!

She’s clingy, intrusive...

But she’s always there.

I understand your anger.

You must feel she didn’t protect you
from what happened at home.

Yet she’s dependable.
She’s always there for you.

When you saw your father
with that woman,

you said your mother was working.

Why was she working?

Someone had to pay the rent.

If I’ve understood,

your father’s work at the time
did not earn enough to meet your needs.

That’s how it is,
starting out as an artist.

What would have happened
if your mother hadn’t been there?

I think she was, and still is,
very courageous. Don’t you agree?

She can’t do anything else but work
in that shitty clothes shop!

She’ll never advance.

She may be courageous,
she’s still a millstone.

My dad’s an artist.

He has a right to be selfish.

It’s like when I’m racing,
I have to concentrate only on myself.

If I start thinking about anyone else,
I’m screwed.

You don’t understand.

Is the session over?

Can you try something
before the next session?

You want me to talk to my mom?

I sincerely think it will be beneficial.

For both of you.

It’ll be a waste of time.

Try. What do you have to lose?

I’ll see.

- Can I ask you a question?
- Go ahead.

Is it because my mom’s paying
that you’re on her side?

You’re right.
She’s always the one who pays.

Are you coming?