All language subtitles for En.therapie.S01E30.1080p.BluRay.DD+5.1.x264-SbR_track4_[eng]

IN THERAPY

ARIANE - SATURDAY, JANUARY 2, 2016, 11 A.M.

- What do you want?
- I’m here for the funeral.

- Are you a journalist?
- No, not at all.

Wait a minute.

- Hello.
- Hello.

Who are you?

I was his-- A friend.

A friend from where?

Chill.

Excuse him, we’re all a bit tense.

It’s there.

- Go on in.
- Thanks.

Thanks for coming.

Of course we came.

He was always there for you.

He was fond of you both.

Sorry. Here.

Julien, what did I tell you?
Put that robot away!

Hello.

Hello.

Thanks for coming.

I, well...

My sincere condolences.

- Mr...?
- Dayan.

Excuse me.

Dr. Dayan.

Fabien Mazens.

I called you two days ago.

Thank you.

And I gave Adel your number,
after the terrorist attacks.

He wanted the best.

He sang your praises.

The last time we talked,
he told me how close you’d become.

I don’t know about “close”.

The treatment creates a particular bond.

You had to be tough
to stand up to Adel.

Not everyone made the grade.

It’s not a fight.

No, of course not.

Ariane.

- You came.
- Since you called I’ve been hesitating.

- Thanks for letting me know.
- Of course.

You look tired.

I’m sleeping badly.

And even then
only with the help of pills.

I thought that sleeping pills
weren’t a solution.

You’re right, Dr. Coligny.

But they keep the dreams at bay,
especially the nightmares.

Hello.

Hello.

My sincere condolences.

I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you.

- Are you one of his cowboy gang?
- No.

I was his...

We’re friends of Adel.

He had no brothers or sisters.

But he had plenty of friends.

They organized the ceremony.

His brigade of brigands!

They’ve arranged something special.

It was an idea of...

Paul or David.

Or his cop pal.

It’s important to share these moments
all together.

Your charming wife agrees with me.

No, we’re not...

Sorry, I thought that...

- It’s okay.
- Don’t be mad at me.

At the moment I’m a bit...

I’m a bit...

Come on, don’t look like that!

He was my friend too, and I’m not sad.

He had a sense of humor.

He must be looking down and laughing,
seeing how we’re reacting.

Those dickheads are talking
about suicide. He died a hero.

A hero?

His shrink straightened him out.

You knew he was seeing one,
after the Bataclan?

He was sleeping at my place,
and he told me all about it.

The nightmares,
the visions, the shrink...

I could never thank that guy enough.
Chibane was really fucked up.

Sorry.

But it was thanks to this shrink...

Adam? Dahan?

He straightened him out.

He got his mojo back.

What do you mean by “got his mojo back”?

He understood what was wrong,

and you could see in his eyes
that he’d been freed.

That gave him the courage to go.

He took leave and...

went to Syria, like that.

Who’d have thought a shrink
could help guys like us?

I know it was you.

We come across as a rough lot

who don’t need any help, but...

Chibane was no fool.

I’m not surprised
he had heavy stuff to tell you.

His brain was always churning.

Politics, religion, the family...
He analyzed everything to death.

You know,
you might have helped him a bit,

but with or without you
he’d still have gone.

He died a hero. As simple as that.

No need to get upset about it.

The report says they were attacked
as they were going through a village.

He didn’t fall back with the others.

He fell among the peasants
who were protecting their families.

He knew why he was there.

He did the job.

He died three days after he got there.
He texted me the day before.

He was outside, staring at the stars.

He was expecting the constellations
to be different, but they’re not.

I didn’t reply.

I just thought, “Bloody idiot,
it’s the same hemisphere!”

We’ve arranged something.
You’re coming in, yeah?

We’ve rehearsed a lot.

I should have followed my instinct.
I have no place here.

You absolutely have a place here.

A woman’s lost her husband,
a boy’s lost her dad,

and what am I in all that?
A tawdry little fling, nothing more.

So what am I?

The one who sent him off
to be killed in Syria?

I don’t understand.

I knew but I wasn’t able to stop him.

I knew that mission was madness.

He was so lucid about it.

I couldn’t find the words.

- It wasn’t your fault, you know that.
- He was my patient.

But he was free to choose.

And sometimes therapy
can only do so much.

You’re not God. You know that.

I failed.

In a 20-year career
I’ve never had a patient die.

It was different for me.

I know it was tough for you.

Terrible, probably.

When I called you, you seemed distant.

I struggled to deal with your call.

When I saw your name on my phone, I...

I imagined something quite different.

I thought you were going
to ask me out for a drink.

So when you told me he was dead,
I wasn’t even sad.

I don’t know. My first reaction was...

I was disappointed and angry.

What a horrible woman, huh?

It was a long time after hanging up
that it hit me, and...

I broke down.

What a great New Year!
I’ve never felt so lonely before.

Me too.

You too?

I too felt very lonely.

What? You have a family and a home
you can take refuge in.

Believe me, I’m lonely right now.
More than you can imagine.

Let’s go.

Hello, everyone. Thanks for being here
to honor Adel’s memory.

We want you to sing a song with us.

It’s by Brassens.

Brassens is always good.

Chibane wasn’t too keen at first.

Yeah.

It took us a while
to get him to sing it with us.

But now it’s sort of become his anthem.

We never omitted to sing it
before going on an intervention.

We’ve sung it a lot just lately.

This is for you, buddy.

In town, without pretension

I have a bad reputation

Whether I make an effort or I stay quiet
I come across badly

Yet I don’t do anyone any harm

I follow my own path,
that of the little guy

But good people don’t like us
to follow a different path

No, good people don’t like us
to follow a different path

Everyone says bad things about me

Except for the mute,
it goes without saying

On Bastille Day I stay in my cosy bed

Marching music and stamping boots
are no concern of mine

Yet I don’t do anyone any harm

By not listening to the blasting bugle

But good people don’t like us
to follow a different path

No, good people don’t like us
to follow a different path

Everyone points their finger at me

Except those without arms,
it goes without saying

When I see an unlucky thief
being chased by a bumpkin

I stick out a foot
and the bumpkin ends up on the ground

Yet I don’t do anyone any harm

By letting an apple thief run

But good people don’t like us
to follow a different path

No, good people don’t like us
to follow a different path

Everyone will turn up to see me hanged

Except for the blind... of course!

I’m sorry about earlier,
with Adel’s father.

I should have introduced you.

It doesn’t matter.

I think it bothered you
more than it did me.

When I was in high school,

people thought my father’s new wife
was my sister, or my girlfriend.

My stepmother was too young.
Too pretty.

When the three of us went out together,

people thought
she and I were the couple.

And he took perverted pleasure
in explaining to people

that Maria was his wife,
and not my girlfriend.

It flattered him, he swaggered.

I was ill at ease,
I hated those moments.

How did he meet her?

He was a doctor, a neurosurgeon.

Was she a doctor too?

- No, she was his patient.
- Right!

She was epileptic. They were doing
experimental surgery at the time.

My father was a sort of pioneer.

He developed an operation
which became a reference.

Anyway, they started seeing each other,
then he left my mother.

To live with his mistress.

When he wanted something
he took it.

Without any qualms. He didn’t care
if he hurt the people around him.

I was really angry at the time.
I’d talk back to my teachers.

I remember a stand-off
with the careers adviser.

He asked me what I wanted to be.

I said I’d do whatever it took
not to be like my father.

For years
I thought that...

I’d manage it.

But I realize now that I’ve ended up
in exactly the same situation.

A doctor with three children

and a marriage on the rocks.

I think I’m going to go.

I think it’s better.

It’s crazy, huh?

All this spent trying to understand
my feelings for you,

telling myself
it was the product of my past...

whereas in fact it’s you.

You’re a prisoner of yours.

I’m off.