All language subtitles for Un soir, un train Andre Delvaux, (1968) ENG

ONE EVENING, A TRAIN

The flower of summer
lasts until autumn

is pruned in the winter
and is reborn in spring.

Love which blossoms
from summer to autumn

fades and stiffens
in the white winter frosts.

Love which blossoms
from summer to autumn

fades and stiffens
in the white winter frosts.

...and Mathias, she thought it was so funny...

when you came every day at 2 o'clock
for your spicecake

You were only 5 years old

and you crossed the street all by yourself.

You never caused us any trouble,
that's true, never,

except one day, when you refused to
come to the cinema with me.

You said...

I won't go to the cinema with her!

I had my hat on. I took it off.

I never forgot that, Mathias.

You were 10 years old, and you were
ashamed of me.

But no!

Yes, yes! You didn't like my hat.

But, I forgave you long ago.

You know, I've never done wrong to anyone.

Mathias, have you asked little Louis
to look after the grave during Holy Week.

Yes, I did, don't worry.

And did you choose the two
pots of chrysanthenums?

They are very beautiful.

How much do I owe you?

Nothing.

Ah! You won't forget? Because I...
Here, this is for Anne.

Tell her that I'm waiting to see her.

You still have no children!

No.

I think I showed last week, by way of example,

how diverse are the meanings of the Symbol

even if we limit its usage
to the purely linguistic sphere.

But, it is now thought, in certain circles,

that the exact sciences themselves

can be used to establish linguistic axioms

and help make important advances

in organizing a coherent view
of universal phenomena.

For my part, I think that this attitude,

is quasi-religious, almost mystical,

and can only prejudice the rational certainties

obtained through linguistics
- after much labour - by Saussure.

I remark that this evening I have been
invited to a nearby university

to present a summary of this research

and to defend the position which I have just mentioned.

Pardon...

I'm very sorry. I'm astonished
to see so few here!

It looks like your Flemish colleagues
are on strike this afternoon.

I understand their reactions against
the ecclesiastical authorities

in this affair, but I am more concerned

about their position regarding their francophone colleagues.

Otherwise I support them wholeheartedly.

Well, I am most happy to discuss linguistic matters.

Gentlemen, till next time!

...here's my translation, can you read it?

God says...where art thou, my death,
thou who spares nobody?

Come forth, listen to my orders!

Hmm, it would be better to say first

GOD orders...and then afterwards
Where are YOU, my death?

Because during the Middle Ages
YOU had the same meaning as it does now.

I understand.

And Everyman, each man? All man?
No, Everyman is better.

Then, go and seek out Everyman
and tell him to make that pilgrimage

from which no-one ever returns, and that he
should render me his account without delay.

In fact "rekeningen doen", that is, "give a
reckoning", is a lot more immediate to me.

Actually Death doesn't have very much to say,
and he says it with very few words.

Everyman, you can suddenly lose
what you thought was always yours.

A pilgrimage from which no-one ever returns.

Bring your account, your writings,
drafted with most careful attention.

For which I am, of course, ill-prepared.
Render your account to God. Why?

Who are you, messenger?

I am Death who spares nobody.

Well, it is not too bad!

Should I keep the archaisms?

No, translate them into 15'th
century French, if possible.

But retain the biblical forms.

We'll talk about it again tomorrow.

Thankyou, Monsieur.

See you then, Ilza.

Now, Bremen, are you going to demonstrate?

Demonstrate? It's not so simple!

In my opinion we ought to show
solidarity with the students.

Is it solidarity, to persecute a minority?

Apartheid, racism, wait,
doesn't that remind you of something?

That's easily said!

It's even more easily done!

Hello, are the actors still rehearsing?

No, thanks don't bother.

Goodbye!

Where are you, my death,

who spares no-one?

I follow your orders, Almighty God.

Go say to Everyman

that he must make a pilgrimage

and that he must render his account to me
without delay.

These are my orders.

Everyman, where are you going?.

Have you forgotten God?

Why do you ask me that?

Thank you Franz, thank you Henrik.

You see Anne, it's impossible like that.

Henrik is wrapped in his cloak.

He has no free hand, and he's isolated.

Again!

I shall reign on earth...

That's the traditional representation
of Death during the Middle Ages.

It has an absolute symbolic force.

Although, in Mathias' adaptation, death is one
among 1001 other things which can occur.

It is one event among many others.

It is a force which Everyman can master.

It is like a public figure,

like virtue, like confession.

Even so, we can't change this Death, Werner.

It is a fiction rooted forever in the past.

It's like Christ.

He is neither Dracula nor Nosferatu,
but a disquieting figure.

Imagine a kind of plastic material
or a sort of silvery material,

a figure shining softly in the darkness.

Are there batteries in his belt?

Oh, you're crazy, I'll never be
able to do that by tomorrow.

The stagehands have aready been working all night.

You're a genius, you'll certainly find a way.

Anne!

Hey!

What are you doing here?

I finished early.

The students were demonstrating
this afternoon.

Were you there?

No.

I have to work all night,
you won't be there?

My train leaves this evening,
the conference begins at 8.30am

I'll be thinking of you.

I have to invent a new Death.

Will he be thin?

Hard.

Cold.

Little death.

When?

Without delay.

And, say, how is it going with Werner?

Mathias, what are you doing here?

I think we've discovered something.

Look. Everyman doesn't talk to Death,
he talks above Death.

As if he was invisible.

Consequently we have a great monologue
of Everyman with Everyman.

Obviously. The whole play is a monologue.

Everyman knows that he is talking to himself.

Therefore he is stronger than Death,
stronger than God.

Because he agrees to play the game.

But he is alone.

So, his dialogue with Death is that
veil between the self and the not-self.

Do you see?

Yeah.

The veil between the self and the not-self

Render account to God? Useless.

Who are you, messenger?

I am Death

who spares no-one.

You know, I've come to realize

that a person can be so taken up with another,

that they can't ever see themselves.

It's like death, the anguish of death.

Well, in the meantime I need
to re-think the play,

look for material in the archives,

and get it all ready at the theatre before 10.00am

Oh! Who's been playing with this?

And you know, we'll never be finished
before the afternoon. I'm sure of that.

Yes. I want to follow up this again.

What?

I said, I want to follow up this idea.

Bernard thought the interview
with Freddy was very good.

Do you know that Freddy taped it
for at least 2 hours?

Anyway, half of it can be thrown out.

Can you give me a suggestion for the
costumes at the end, Mathias?

I can't imagine it clearly.

Of course, my dear.

One for the self...one for the not-self...

You want napkins?

Yes.

We don't have to have white ones!

You know Werner, he'll make a fuss!

It's too bright here, don't you think?

Try it. You'll see.

Montrachet '61.

To the angel!

The angel spreads its wings and says

I pluck the soul out from the body.

Its substance is pure and light

I bear it skyward into the blue,

there where we will all be reunited.

You don't believe it?

They are the most beautiful lines
in the whole play.

I find them admirable.

What don't you like about them?

Angels have no sex.

And no clothes either!

I spent the whole night thinking about it.

And to clothe Death who hides his anguish

I thought of the angel also.

Do you remember?

If God suddenly tipped us all into hell

then all the rain in heaven,
and all the earthly oceans,

would make less noise than
a single drop of blood

dancing on a hot plate.

And it's the angel who says that!

Not now, Mathias.

Not now.

Good. My train leaves in 2 hours.

Shall we get some fresh air?

As you wish.

I don't wish, I only suggest,
that we get some fresh air, my dear.

Good. Let's get some fresh air!

Where are we going?

To the oast house, if you wish.

Would you rather I didn't come this evening?

You know how they react down there.

Old school nationalists, closed minds.

I can't even introduce you.

If I spoke English it would
be easier, obviously!

Would you like me to wait
in a cafe near the station,

that way you could come back alone?

FLEMISH LOVAIN!

WALLOONS FIRST!

Shall we go on foot?

REVOLUTION

Perhaps we shouldn't get married, Mathias.

It would be to the detriment of your career

for us to be too closely linked.

I can't be your French wife,
because it's immoral not to be Flemish.

How picturesque!

You're still blaming me...

On the contrary, you've changed my outlook.

Werner treats you well, doesn't he?

Remarkably. He is happy to please you
by hiring me.

You're still free, my dear.

Free?

We are all free, Mathias.

And intelligent, and lucid.

You pity me!

That's your problem, Mathias, not mine.

I am not an object.
I'm not your object.

I think we should split up, so that
you can advance your career

You think you know everything,
and you care about nobody, except...

It's not true.

The old story! It's not true!

Over and over again!

You have no doubts.

Do you think I should spend my life
waiting for you to turn up?

I can't go on. It's too hard.

I feel so desperately lonely in your land

I know nothing and nobody,

no friends, no child.

One day, you'll disappear.
And then what will remain for me?

Nothing!

Now listen, darling!

No, no, Mathias, no sweet talk!

How much is that one?

40, Monsieur.

They arrived this morning.

Tell me, where does Louis live?

Louis Broekhaert.
He looks after the graveyard.

Do you have "Le Monde"?

My father was a schoolteacher

Six children in my family.

We shouldn't have parted like that.

I'm so sorry. I was under a strain.

You know, probably it's going
to last forever this evening.

You shouldn't wait for me at the station.

I'll take the first train back.

Can you give me a light please?

Thankyou.

You haven't seen a young woman
go by, brown hair?

No. What time is it?

My watch has stopped. I nodded off,
and now I have no idea where she is.

I saw no-one going by.
They're all sleeping in my compartment.

She's probably down the other end
of the train.

Thankyou.

Hernhutter. Gotfried Hernhutter.

Bremen. Mathias Bremen.
But... I know you.

Didn't you teach the history
of religion at Tubingen?

Yes, but I've been living here for several years.
How is it that you know me?

Say something to me!
They're all asleep back there.

Do you know where we are?

Do you know where we are?

I'll go and see what's up with the locomotive.

Perhaps she's at the other end of the train.

Come back!

Wait!

But wait!

The idiots! Anne is on the train
with all my papers.

What will they think?

What on earth will they think?

I didn't manage to reach the locomotive.

I took your course two years ago, Monsieur.

Val, don't you remember me?

Well, Val, now I'm really in a mess.

I think there is a village over the other side.

Good, we should be able to telephone from there.

I'll take a look, if you like.

But no, you're crazy.

Look, beyond that branch
there's nothing but water.

No, we should rather go that way.

Would you prefer to wait here, Hernhutter?

No, not at all. I'll come with you.

You don't think that we should
make a detour here?

It hasn't snowed here.

Yes, it has snowed, but now it has thawed.

But now it looks much further off.

If we don't get off this plain...

we'll end up in Russia,

gateway to Asia.

No, it's impossible.

We should already be at the station.
Anne would have called me.

I'll go and have a look that way.

Hey!

Over there!

Look!

I'll sit down for a bit.
I don't feel very well.

Wait, professor.

If the flames were bigger
people would see us.

Yes, but that wood is wet.
Cold and wet.

It smokes, eh!

It's good like that!

We should be able to warm up.

I think we're going to have to spend the night here.

Got any ideas, you two?

I'm dying of hunger.

In fact, we can eat.

What worries me is what they are
thinking at home?

They'll be ringing the alarm bells.
For a change.

Don't worry. Hernhutter and I
will fix that.

One always think one can arrange everything.

You don't know my father.
He's a teacher.

My father also was a teacher.
With him it was a passion.

I teach, we teach, they all teach.
He's been dead 10 years.

You don't have a son?

I have no children. No wife,
no children, no parents.

Anne is independent. Liberty, you know.

Will they be worried at home
for you, Hernhutter?

There's nobody at my home any more.

Jeronimus Bremen, Auguste Bremen, Mathias Bremen.

This afternoon I couldn't even find the grave.

And I couldn't even say to Anne,
all that I should have said.

That's why she was on the train, you see.

But if she doesn't see me
at the station, then it's all over.

She'll wait for a bit.

She won't have telephoned the university.

She has to do some research.

She can't spend the entire night
in the waiting room.

What sort of person she, your Anne?

She is beautiful, very beautiful.

But she's not the sort of woman one
can fix in words, you know?

You see her, and you never forget her.

She's a real woman, you understand?

Have you known her for long?

With her, time has little importance.

Several years. And they were my best years.

Recently I've begun to think

that if I should suddenly disappear

even so I would have tasted
the real essence of life.

It was in the country, close to the
Spanish border, near Christmas.

A friend had invited me for the festivities.

We were a group of amateur actors.

And his sister was quite good-looking.

When you're hear me groan,
don't worry, I'm composing.

He chased after me. He said...

once a week...

You see Mathias, that was how it started!

She left her family. You understand,
to become a performer

in one's own small home town,
that's a real struggle.

I could never do it.

She needed that break. She couldn't stand
living in the provinces.

She wanted to live her own life.
So she gave up everything.

No prospects, no money, all alone!

Did you forget something?

I'll be back.

Leave it, Mathias!

You'll catch cold.

Think so?

You don't like me this way?

Not like you? Oh, God.

Why was she on the train?

She was accompanying me.

I had to give a lecture on
contemporary linguistics

to a group of Flemish students.

Anne is French. It wasn't fair on her.

It's a misunderstanding, once again.

What were you thinking about
when you woke up?

About love.

An 18'th century libertine called
love "the little death".

I have written an adaptation of Everyman

and I never agreed with Anne.

She thought that it was not enough to be
conscious and lucid when confronted by Death.

I understood her point-of-view,
and I understood my own,

we talked things over for 2 months.

Nobody comes by here.

They probably can't see us.

How about I try and find a farm
or village over there?

No, that's not a good idea.
It's best we stay together, Val

But I can walk now, if you like.

I won't go astray.
The fire will guide me.

Don't go too far to the side.
I don't want you to run risks.

Everything that happens is fore-ordained.

There is no risk.

And you, Hernhutter. Where were
you going on this train?

My ancestors, the Hernhutter,
were protestants from Bohemia,

very attached to the doctrines of Jean Hus.

They never mourned

because for them death was
the occasion for great hope.

The Hernhutter clan have a grand mausoleum

in the commune garden.

I have never done wrong to anyone,

and when I visit that garden

I feel less alone.

Hernhutter, why did the train stop here?

I don't know Mathias.

I found a village.

A village! Well done!
Let's go there then!

Ah, Mathias?

Oh, pardon.

You let my potatoes burn.

Quick!

Not so fast!

It's alright!

Where is the inn around here?

Can you tell me the name of
this village? This village?

Could you please tell me where we
can find an hotel?

Hotel!

Ah, hotel!

Eat first, telephone later.
I'm as hungry as a wolf!

We are right out of luck.

I can't understand a word
of their gibberish...

Did you ask where is the telephone?

If you don't mind, we would like to telephone?

Te-le-phone!

It's not possible!

Where are we, here?

Your health!

Romanet 28...29!

Perhaps 34!

Is it Bordeaux, or Bourgogne?

Bourgogne.

Hernhutter, what do you think about all this?

There are no firm indications...

at this time...

We'd been shut in for 3-4 years, understand?

So, when Antwerp was liberated, it didn't last.

I had a rifle with a sling,

and with an hour's practice in the wasteland
I knew how to shoot!

My section was instructed to
pick up the collaborators.

We took 3 women

And, because the prison was closed (true!)...

we put them all in the lion's
cage at the zoo

which had been empty for 3 years.

Men and women together, behind the bars.

Suddenly, I became sick of it all,

and I returned my gun,
and gracefully resigned my post

You lost faith?

Anne, she too, is impulsive.

It seems attractive when you first meet her.

You'll meet her tomorrow, you'll see!

She believes in God.

And do you know why?

She was going to school, a youngster.

She was 9 years old, and she
hated it more than you can imagine.

A childish hate.

One day, in 1944, she was
in detention as a punishment,

and just then, a plane released
3 bombs over the city, an error.

Ploughed directly into the school cafeteria!

Not a single person survived.

And Anne was convinced from that day
that God existed.

Try and disprove it!

Let's leave, Mathias!

Where should we go?

Quick, I implore you!

Val, get up!

But I know that song!

Love which blossoms
from summer to autumn

fades and stiffens
in the white winter frosts.

- My name is Val!
- Val!

She's nice! What do you bet?

For heaven's sake, Val!

Come back!

He's not himself!
Come back! You must stop!

Let go! You don't know who she is!

Come back, Val, you don't understand!

You don't know what game she's playing!

Her name is Moira.

And I understand her language.

It's a miracle!

You don't know why the train stopped!

Who are you?

Speak! Who are you?

It's nothing.

It's nothing, you have nothing.

There was an accident.
Because of the other train.

Do you want to telegraph home?

No! Oh, no!

One evening in autumn
there was a crack in the mirror

and you sank down so deep
into the black vault of time.

One evening in autumn
your picture flies away

flies away, and sinks
into the black vault of time

and alights so softly
on its own eternity...