All language subtitles for Les Fantomes d Ismael (2017) FRENCH 720p x264-LOST

Ivan Dedalus...

Ivan...

Dedalus.

Excuse me.

- Here.
- Thank you.

Good morning.

Ministry Of Foreign Affairs

Good morning.

Good morning.

Sir!

Oh, Jacques!

Good morning!

- You're here?
- Yes!

- You are Parisian now?
- No.

I'm just passing through.
Is Dedalus still in the vicinity?

Dedalus was stationed in Vienna.

But no news since.

- Not at the Ministry.
- You're sure he's still with us?

- He fell off the radar.
- What radar?

Are you looking for him?
Investigating?

I'm passing through.
I was wondering.

Ivan disappeared. So I'm asking.

I told my wife

"We're spending three years
in Vilnius."

- Where?
- That's what she said.

She wanted London or Trinidad.

She hasn't spoken to me
for two weeks.

Poor you!

I'm too old for Vilnius.
I feel the cold easily.

Anyway, Vilnius is too much for me.

And yet I packed my bags
and began learning Lithuanian.

So I got to Prague
to meet the Ukrainian delegation.

Top secret. They start
talking about the Russians.

- I ask the First Secretary...
- Who was it?

That guy, a little strange...

Dedalus!

- Of course!
- Our best man.

Passport, please.

Thanks.

Who's Dedalus?

I came here to speak to him.

But Ivan disappeared.

It was his specialty.

Meaning?

You remember the rumors.

I'm not alone
to have thought at times he was...

- An angel.
- Or a spy.

- No.
- Yes.

An interior agent?

Why would he be interior?

How did he get in?

He came out of nowhere at 35,
no diploma, unlikely face.

Best score, external candidate.
Too good to be true.

Mr. Dedalus?

You know who really liked Ivan?

He hired him, mentored him!

- Claverie!
- That traitor!

Claverie. 30 years on the job.

Stationed in Warsaw under Gierek.

Thought to be a communist mole.

Then they said
the Americans recruited him.

In Asia, rumors of corruption.

Quai d'Orsay found nothing.
But he was put out to pasture.

But... Meanwhile, it's been a while.

Follow me.

- Hello.
- Hello.

Shall I sit?

Please do.

We're here to find you
an assignment.

Really?

Your exam results were excellent.
Congratulations.

- Thank you.
- Congratulations.

I'm in charge of security,
confidentiality,

things of the sort.

Which is very precious here.

Found an apartment?

Not yet.
I arrived by train this morning.

You have an atypical trajectory.

Excuse me,
you're no longer very young,

and you haven't done
"traditional" studies.

Meaning?

Graduate studies
in politics or language...

- I wasn't so lucky.
- But you speak six languages.

Well, I understand Arabic a bit.
I wouldn't say I'm fluent.

May I ask
where you learned these languages?

I learned all alone in Roubaix.

With manuals.

Any scientific aptitudes?

I love science, but I studied law.

By correspondence!

It's an unusual path.

It's uncommon
to begin working so late in life.

I worked for my father for a while.

I saw that in your file.
Dyeing factory.

Traditional.

That's where you got
your law degree, by correspondence.

To pay off my father's bankruptcy.

My mother died when I was a kid.

And my father brought me up alone.

- No military service?
- No.

It says:
"Exempted for medical reasons."

- Were you ill?
- Yes.

Is your health better?

I received good treatment.

Pardon my curiosity,
but what brings you here?

I read a government job ad
in the paper.

But why Quai d'Orsay?

Well...

I thought...

I was so curious about the world.

Perfect.

I hope we won't disappoint you.

Welcome aboard.

What would you have done
if you weren't admitted?

Nothing.

I was tired.

"Nothing. I was tired."

- Yes?
- It's me.

Henri...

- Am I bothering you?
- You can't bother me.

What time is it?

It's 3 o'clock
but I can't sleep at the moment.

I'm losing my mind!

- Don't panic.
- I need your help.

- I'm coming.
- I'm fed up!

I'll be there in twenty minutes!
Wait for me, Henri.

- It's me.
- Come upstairs!

I dreamt Carlotta was dead.

My friend...

Come.

I was looking at these slides.

And dark thoughts...

took a hold of me.

Don't look at them at night.
It makes you melancholic.

I miss my daughter.

Every night
I dream about the ditch...

where my daughter
had her throat cut.

It's a disgusting place
with dirty papers.

And it's cold.

Quiet.

When Carlotta disappeared,
I hated you.

I know.

I wondered
what you could have done...

to make such a joyful girl
disappear like that.

- What could I have done?
- I don't know.

Cheat on her.

Henri, you're one to talk!

Who disappears
over an unfaithful husband?

She's the one who slept around.

Yes!

She was strong like me.

- She loved life.
- Yes.

She was running from you.

She was running from all of us.

Of course.

And Carlotta
wasn't all that joyful.

Wrong!

She was the purest child ever!
She knew how to laugh!

You're too consumed with despair.

You're...

uncertain.

No woman ever left me.

But I was much too young,...

an awkward husband
obsessed by my films and theater.

Selfish little son of a bitch.

I couldn't look after her.

I knew how to.

You were a cumbersome father,
so cumbersome...

that she lived in your shadow,
then ended up in mine.

Your shadow is nothing
next to mine!

I realize that, dear master.

A formidable father
and a husband too weak.

Look at these pictures.

Look.

You declared her dead
and now I can't sleep.

I declared her absent, not dead.

You'd waited 18 years for her
and you found it unbearable.

I'm going to the seaside.
Can I leave you?

Yes.

I was invited yesterday to festive of
my films in Tel Aviv next month.

Wonderful!

Will you go with me?

With pleasure and honor, Henri.

Still with your companion?

- Sylvia.
- Yes.

She's very good for you, that woman.

You shouldn't have come to see me.

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight.

Sir?

May I borrow your phone?

For Paris. I'll pay for the call.

Sure.

It's me.

I just left Henri's.

Am I waking you?

He called
in the middle of the night.

Can I come by your place?

It's early.

Come in.

What did your tyrant want?

He's an old man. He was crying.

Why?

He was thinking of his daughter.

Do you think of her?

It's been 20 years, dear.
Don't be jealous of a ghost.

You'll try to sleep?

I don't know. I'll lie down.

Get undressed!

Come in bed with me!

You need to sleep.

TWO YEARS BEFORE

Two years ago, I met Ismael
through some mutual friends.

I'm an astrophysicist.

Ismael was a filmmaker.

He was a loner,
loved to be aggressive.

Rumor had it
he'd lost a wife, very young.

I enjoyed bumping into him,
even if he scared me.

I stared at him,
from the end of the table.

He looked thuggish.

He loved making fun
of the books I read.

And of my prudishness.

I was slowly getting drunk.

Then I started leaving.

Leaving because
I made you uncomfortable?

No, not at all.

- Can I drop you off by taxi?
- I don't know.

One night, he offered me a ride.

How about a drink?

No ulterior motives.

Yes.

Do you know a bar?

Yes.

Why don't you have kids?

Married men.

What?

I loved married men.

Your specialty.

Yes, that's it.

Good.

I'm single now,
so we don't stand much of a chance.

None whatsoever.

And you, no kids?

I adopted one, once.

I did.

Not bad.

It didn't end well.

- That's sad.
- No, it's okay.

Why didn't you have children
with your married man?

You mean at my age?

- I never ask ladies their ages.
- Ladies?

Yes.

I'm my brother's legal guardian.

Is he crazy?

No.

- Is he in jail? An alcoholic?
- Nope.

He's handicapped.

It forbids you from having a child.

Yes, a little.

- It's been my whole life.
- Your brother?

- Well, not my whole life.
- There's the married man too.

What's his name?

The handicapped brother?

Pierre.

It frightens you.

No.

He's my blessing.

- In fact, you're not really single.
- Really?

I've seen you
with a very young woman.

It's over with her.

You were together for a while.

There were a lot of breaks.

We wanted to leave each other,
but never at the same time.

And yet, it was practical.

I had someone at home
to answer the phone.

How convenient!

- Want a bite?
- No, thanks.

So you're between women?

That's right.

And you sleep with your actresses?

Of course.

- They're very pretty!
- Very.

It's here.

I'd like to come up.

- No, it's too late.
- Just for five minutes.

I said no.

I'll go upstairs,
then leave right away.

So why go up?

I just want to see where you live!

I said no!

Do I have to beg to see it,
on my knees?

It'll just embarrass you!

Stop it! Stop!

You're so damn stiff!

I'm not stiff.

I'm shy.

This isn't right.

Okay, it's pretty.

Goodbye.

You're not kissing me?

No.

Your friends told you
I'm a widower?

Yes.

I'm sorry.

My dear!

I never dared ask...

What is your movie about?

It's a portrait of my brother.

- Ivan?
- Yes, Ivan.

Why have I never met your brother?

He's at the other end of the world.
I'm a homebody.

He was the sensible brother.

I was the madman.

- So you admit it?
- You bet!

He was the spy?

I believe so.

So you'll get your movie done.

How do you know?

I trust you blindly.

You don't know me.

I think I do.

Better than anyone.

You didn't write today?

Don't scold me.

You sleep all day
and can't sleep at night.

I'm terrified.

I don't want you to be afraid,
my love.

It's the nightmares,
every single night.

I re-read
"The Interpretation of Dreams".

There's no explanation
for nightmares.

None whatsoever.
It's pure persecution!

Go easy on the pills.
You won't wake up.

I have to knock myself out
or the nightmares persecute me.

Stop with that.
You'll kill yourself.

It's my nightmares
that will kill me.

My friend...

come here.

Come here!

When we talked about Ivan...

we tried to sketch
a profile of him.

When we talked about Ivan,
we tried to sketch a profile.

But it was hopeless from the start.

Him and his legendary naps!

Once I went to a conference
with Ivan.

Something European.

On the way back,
we missed our connection in Bern.

Our delegation
waited at the airport...

for the next flight.

Three sleepless nights in Stockholm
and five more hours in Switzerland.

We all slept like babies.

You're not sleeping?

No, I can't.

Count all the diplomats you've met.

I suffer
from a degenerative disease.

The Elsinore Syndrome.

- Like the castle in "Hamlet"?
- Yes.

- I have violent nightmares.
- What kind of nightmares?

- I'm embarrassed.
- Sorry, I'm indiscreet!

It's fine. I sleep at the office.

How do you stop yourself
from sleeping?

I have pills.

Are you Sylvia?

- Ismael's companion?
- Yes.

Where is he?

In his room, writing.

He still doesn't like swimming?

How do you know that?

Because I'm his wife.

Carlotta.

I thought you were dead.

I've seen you before.
In a painting.

How so?

Ismael has a painting of you
at his place.

Oh, that.

It's an old portrait. I was 16.

I'll tell him.

- Get any work done?
- Not enough.

What's wrong?

I think I saw Carlotta.

On the beach.

I'm afraid it'll drive you crazy.

Or I'll go crazy.

Don't mention Carlotta.
I don't want to hear about her.

She's alive.

What are you saying?

She was there. On the beach.

You're insane, dear.

She came back with me.
She's waiting downstairs.

How do you know it's her?

Because she told me.

It's me.

Yes.

I've changed my hair.

Like it?

Yes.

You've aged.

How long has it been?

21 years, 8 months and 6 days.

Am I bothering you?

No. I was writing.

You still make films?

Yes.

I haven't seen them.

I tried through Ivan,
but he disappeared.

No longer in France?

I liked him.

Sorry but
I don't know anyone anymore.

I have nowhere to stay.

You left France?

Yes.

And now?

I'm in Paris.

In a shelter.

You have a place to sleep tonight?

No.

So you can stay here.

All right.

It's too big for us.
We never use it.

I put a towel in the bathroom.

Because I smell bad?

Yes, a little.

Want to borrow some clothes?

I'll be fine.

Why not ask for news
of your father?

Oh, him...

- Do you know him?
- No.

If he were dead, I'd have heard.

It was all a lie.

What was a lie?

You and me!

Quiet. Fight! Fight now!

I don't have the strength!
I wish she were dead!

No.

I wanted her never to come back!

Me too.

No!

It's her!

Go on.

Sleep with her and I'll kill you.

No.

Carlotta...

Wake up.

- It was an awful nightmare.
- And me?

How about me?

I'm in a living nightmare
and I can't wake up!

Please don't shout.

I'm an old woman now.

I'm coming back to you.

One day I'll die.

You won't die, you're already dead!
Filthy whore!

What were you doing for 20 years?

Twenty-one fucking years!

Answer, you piece of shit!

- I can't remember.
- No, wrong!

It's me who doesn't know!

Me! A thousand times
I thought you dead!

I was your widower
without a corpse to mourn!

You know what you did
with 21 years of my life. Tell me.

Where did you go? Where were you?

Why?

When? When?

With who?

I left alone.

What do you mean, alone?

Yes.

I can't remember why.

I was going crazy.

I was twenty.

One day I was out walking.

I went into a station.

I took a train.

Not knowing how long
I was leaving for.

A week?

A year?

I don't know.

I couldn't breathe anymore.

I got off in Lyon.

It's a big city.

I didn't know it.

I said to myself...

it was easy to disappear there.

That no one would come looking.

At first I wandered the streets.

Then the halfway houses.

- You did drugs?
- Yes.

- Were you in prison?
- No.

Then I worked.

I lived with people
in the countryside.

It lasted...

- six years I think.
- Six years!

Why not send a note
to say you weren't dead, dammit?

I didn't need an address.
I'm no cop.

I wanted you alive, that's all.

But I was like dead.

Dead? Bullshit! 21 years!
You were dead!

I did every precinct,
every hospital, every morgue.

Fucking detectives
your father and I paid for!

On every trip I searched
for your face at every station...

with the three pictures
I had of you.

- What did I do to you?
- I didn't know how to live.

It was unbearable.

I wanted to vanish,
to tear up my life.

No! No!

It's my life you tore up!

And your father's!

You used to say we owed nothing
to anyone but ourselves.

That's crap.

You know what happened?

After 10 years,
you get declared dead.

It's me who signed
the piece of paper.

A paper which I brought
to your father.

We had no tomb to cry at.

Just that paper with your name:
"Absent".

And that brought no relief.

Just 21 years of grief!

And were you happy?

I abandoned you, honey.

What about your father?

I abandoned all of you.

You weighed too heavy.

- Or I was too heavy.
- And now you're light?

Yes.

Over the years, one day,
I was in India and I became light.

India? I don't care.
Yes, you were heavy.

You weighed a ton in Paris.

You were my ball and chain.

Were there men?

- Of course.
- How many?

A lot.

- What did you tell them?
- Nothing.

The contract was no questions,
just the present.

The present is shit.

I let myself drift.

Everywhere.

And then I met a man in New Delhi.

He married me.

And then he died.

But...

when?

Three weeks ago.

So I thought I should come home.

I didn't know where to go.

I had nothing to run from.

One day,
a rabbi friend of Bloom's...

offered to do a funeral service.
To dig a grave.

Bloom refused.

What kind of grave is it
without a body?

So in the end,
Bloom and I never buried her.

See? We were right.

I remember it's this way.

There's never anyone.

Good book?

Yes.

I never read. I never did.

To my father's despair.

When my mother died,
I was very young...

and...

I was at boarding school
and came home on weekends.

At night...

my father recited poetry to me
at bedtime.

And I remember a German poem
which he kept translating...

"One day...

when I lose you...

how will you be able
to fall asleep?

Without me rustling over you...

like a linden crown."

Bloom.

He had his affectations.

What's your religion?

I don't have any.

- That's what you answered Ismael?
- What?

Don't tell me
he never asked your religion.

He did.

- I'm Protestant.
- How vicious of him!

That's why he went out with you.

- A Protestant. He couldn't resist.
- Maybe.

How about you?

I'm a renegade Jew.

To my father's despair.

- Who are you?
- I'm sorry. I'm Ivan Dedalus.

- We're colleagues.
- Step back.

You think... But no.
I'm a clerk in European Affairs.

It's been six months.
We met once in an airport.

I remember.

What do you want?

I've thought about you
and I wondered...

if maybe...

you'd agree to go out with me...

- one night, or on a Sunday.
- With you?

Yeah.

You're not a little crazy?

Yes, I act like
a deranged person...

but at work I'm not crazy.
You scare me.

It's you who scares me.
You followed me here.

I'm really sorry.

But you'd make me so happy
if you'd agree to...

- if you had a free evening.
- Well, maybe.

Meaning it's possible? When?

Why not now?

I found them. Here they are.

You see? Real leather!

So they're sending you abroad?

For now I'm just filing reports,
doing photocopies.

- They're too big.
- Sit down.

We'll fix that.

Now try it on.

Perfect!

You're handsome like that.

You always had trouble
finding women.

Yes.

Why?

I don't know.

- Shyness.
- My poor old bachelor.

Dad, I think I met a woman.

Ivan!

- Come and see the lunar eclipse!
- Here, for you.

What is it?

You were named attaché
at the embassy in Dushanbe.

You're leaving in two weeks.
For three years.

Three years?

- You just have to marry me.
- Arielle...

- You don't know who I am.
- So what? I'll learn!

Arielle had stayed an adolescent.

She wanted a hero,
an Achilles or a Patroclus...

or someone killed at Thermopylae.

She chose Ivan.

Oh shit!

On hearing of the marriage,
a friend of Arielle's said...

"It's suicide".

Word of that got back to Ivan.

It's not easy
being someone's suicide.

- You're not that different.
- What?

Aren't we alike?

You and I are the same.

Yes.

♪ Go 'way from my window ♪

♪ Leave at your own chosen speed ♪

♪ I'm not the one you want, babe ♪

♪ I'm not the one you need ♪

♪ You say you're looking for someone ♪

♪ Who's never weak but always strong ♪

♪ To protect you and defend you ♪

♪ Whether you are right or wrong ♪

♪ Someone to open each and every door ♪

♪ But it ain't me, babe ♪

♪ No, no, no. It ain't me, babe ♪

♪ It ain't me you're looking for, babe ♪

♪ Go lightly from the ledge, babe ♪

♪ Go lightly on the ground ♪

What did you come here for?

- I think you know.
- No.

When I recovered Ismael,
he was an old man.

I wrenched him from you.
Now he has a real life.

Why are you shrugging?

- Ismael is playing a role.
- No.

- He's my child.
- You're wrong.

You don't know him anymore.

- You came to destroy me?
- No.

I always thought about him.

He's in my thoughts.

Why are you here today?
Why not two years ago?

I wasn't free before.
I was married.

- Where's your husband?
- My husband died.

- You're crazy!
- And I'm here.

- Everything you say is poison.
- I've come to take my man back.

You're ugly.

Everything you say is ugly.

You can live without him.

You won't be unhappy.

I can't.

Without Ismael...

You should have loved your husband.

That was impossible.

You no longer exist.

Even for your father,
you don't exist.

You were declared dead, Carlotta.

You exist for no one now.

Alexander and I had been together
for six years.

I'd come to New Delhi
with fake papers.

I called myself Esther.

I was very poor.

I can't remember how I got by.

When I met Alex, he was married.

He was older than me.
Very handsome. I liked that.

He left his wife.
His kids were already grown.

He bought a sort of palace
in the countryside.

I moved in with him.

He listened to Indian music
all the time.

Musicians would come by the house.
It was joyful.

One day he died.

He vomited blood. He vomited on me.

At the Anglican church,
for his funeral...

there was his family.

I was alone.

His son came and told me to leave.

I didn't leave.

I stayed.

And he called me a whore.

Like in a nightmare.

And when I got back home...

there were lawyers.

All the furniture had been seized.

They even took my clothes.

I had nothing.

Who was she?

I told you a thousand times.

Did you love her?

I told you a thousand times.

How did you love her?

The way you love a vulnerable girl.

She wavered.

Everything hurt her.
I was her shield.

I never stopped
not being enough for her.

And I wasn't vulnerable
when you met me?

Yes.

In a different way.

How?

You were alone, very alone.

A nun.

You think I'm a nun in bed?

Oh, no.

- How was Carlotta in bed?
- I can't remember.

Bad answer. You never forget that.

She was distraught.

How so?

She'd often cry
when she was making love.

What about me, now?

You're crying.

Did she cheat on you?

Yes.

All the time.

With whoever came along.
She needed men to hold onto.

I was one of them.

I don't know...

I don't know how to cheat on you.
I don't know how.

I owe nothing to Carlotta.
I owe you everything.

I don't want debts
between me and a man.

Yes, I did save your life.

I'm jealous of Carlotta.

I can't help this jealousy.

It's burning me up!

I won't go back with Carlotta.

I wanted to drive you crazy.

Not make you reasonable.

That's why I'm jealous.

I met you too late.

Going to sleep?

What are you doing?

I wanted to look at you once more.

Why?

Talk to me!

Quiet!

- Quiet.
- Talk to me.

I'm leaving.

I don't know
if I want to see you again.

I don't know
how to love myself enough...

to ask you to come.

- Let me leave. I beg you.
- Stay. It's me who beg you.

- Wine in the morning?
- I got no sleep.

I'm writing some words of praise
on your father.

- Sylvia is at the sea?
- No. She's gone.

- Where?
- Far from here.

Why didn't you leave too?

She didn't want me to.

Is it because of me?

She's an astrophysicist,
head in the stars,...

believes in infinity.

You picked an intelligent woman.

Sylvia is beautiful
and intelligent.

Yes.

- I wasn't intelligent.
- Oh yes, you were.

But so sad.

I've changed, my friend.

I can't anymore, Carlotta.

I won't live with you,
never again.

By tomorrow, I'll have vanished.

Like that.

My heart...

You...

What are you doing?

Snooping around.

Why?

You have a child!

Who?

- You and Sylvia have a child.
- No.

Whose picture is this?

A kid I knew.

- Give me a child.
- What?

- I want to have your child.
- Go away.

One day you'll disappear again.

Please. I want it.

You should have with your Indian.

That was different.

I really loved you.

- You won't have to raise it.
- I'm too old.

- You're not old.
- Yes, I am.

And I don't want to be survived.

Why didn't you go see your father?

I won't see him again.

It's too late.

What?

I have to accept what I've done
and can no longer undo.

How do I know you're Carlotta?

Not some madwoman
pretending to be her?

What was your mother's name?

When did she die?
Tell me where she's buried!

Tell me the name
of the violin teacher...

I made you see
when you wanted to give up?

Why are you pretending?

If I answer,
you'll suffer even more.

- No.
- How much suffering do you want?

You won't see Henri
because you're afraid, terrified!

Go see your father
and let him die in peace!

I won't lie to him! You're here
and I'm afraid to call him!

It's tearing my mouth out!
You're a lie!

Everything about you is a lie!

He's my father, not yours.

Marry him.

Or leave me alone.

It was him I loved through you!

- Going to Sylvia?
- None of your business!

- Don't be violent.
- Let me alone!

You crush everything.

- You're suffocating, morbid!
- Your presence is morbid!

I look at you, touch you,
and see you dead!

You make me want to vomit!
Go away!

Yes, I wanted to hurt you!

Please... forgive me.

Forgive me!
I can't live alone.

Please, Ismael.

I want you to take me back.
I need you!

I don't need you, so go away!

Don't leave me.

Don't leave me.

Do I turn you on a little?

A little.

Running away?

If you love me,
go see your father.

Speak to him, I beg of you.
I won't have the strength.

Sylvia, pick up.

I'm sick of your answering machine.

I'm on the highway,
on the way to Paris.

I'd like to know
how to find the words.

I've ended things with Carlotta.

She's my former life.

I must reinvent myself once more.

I can't do it alone.
You're my homeland.

You're probably
in your mountains...

staring at the stars
and forgetting about me.

I'm lost.

I have to leave with Bloom tomorrow.

You have to help me.

TWO YEARS EARLIER

Excuse me, it's late.

I'm a little bit tipsy.

So have a seat.

Thanks, that's kind.

How about a glass of water?

You don't have coffee?

Sorry, I don't drink coffee.

Whiskey then?

Yes.

Here.

I wanted to say that
by refusing me...

you're missing out.

You have to decide quickly.

I won't live a thousand years!

I did some tests.
I can show you the results.

What did the doctors say?

It's not me who matters,
but I can be good for you.

- God knows your life is austere!
- Don't hurt me.

I know, we've barely met.

You see a married man.
It's wonderful with him.

I'm not saying to leave him.

But don't miss out on me.

Stop the leaves!

Raise your arms like this!

You all raise your arms!
Strollers in position!

You up there! Get down!
Don't be a wise-ass!

Where's Victor?

Positions, please!

We have forty minutes!

What are you reading?

- Flannery O'Connor.
- Any good?

- You're teasing me!
- You're bored, right?

Not at all.

Is this the first shoot
you've ever seen?

Yes.

And?

It seems fun.

But do you always
lose your temper like that?

It depends.

You really scared me.

- What do all these people do?
- They work.

Want to wait for me?
I'm almost done.

I'll wait at your place.
Give me your keys.

No pussyfooting around!

- Hiding mistresses there?
- Tons.

- Fine. Give me your keys.
- Here.

In the bathroom
I bought stuff for women.

Toothbrushes, lotions...

Too intimidating. I'll wait here.

Okay.

Let me take that.

Yes.

Thank you.

I haven't fully settled in.

It's dark.

Something to drink?

- A little scotch?
- Yes. Very good.

- I have no ice.
- No problem.

- Your wife?
- Yes. Carlotta.

Thanks.

We got married at 20.

- You were very young.
- One day she left.

- When?
- After three years.

- Where?
- I never knew. She just left.

And I was alone.

I lived like a widower.

One day I was very drunk,
very angry.

I got rid of all her pictures.
I burnt them.

The next day,
no more images of her.

But later I found this portrait.

In the attic.

My cousin painted it
when she was 17.

He sold it to me.

It's the only souvenir I have left.

You want me to get rid of it?

No, that won't be necessary.

Why are you sleeping with me?

Because you're old.

Because...

you look like a bum.

Because you're mysterious...

and I want to
penetrate your mystery.

That's not enough.

Because I'm a lost girl.

And you'll never abandon me.

I'll pull off your mask
and I'll make a prince of you.

How was the sea?

You enjoyed the sunny time?

I hardly went out. I was writing.

Have you finished your screenplay?

I...

I'm not sure yet.

Wonderful!

Thank you.

Well, Won't we celebrate?

What?

Yes.

Celebrate of what?

Of my re-screening.

What are you doing, sir?

Sir!

I'd celebrate of my
success with my mate.

But sir, you are not allowed to bring
your own drink up to the plane.

I bought this bottle from the market
at the airport!

It's absolutely legal.

Look at the package, it is sealed.

It's to drink it at your house.
Now I ask you to wait up.

You can ask for champagne when we leave.

Madam, I am worried about taking off.

I need to drink right now.

Henri, I'm not expert with Champagne,
But the hostess will give us some later.

You are my friend. I don't want you
to drink their bad Champagne.

Sir, if you open this bottle,
I will have to call the security!

Do you think I am a renegade?

A renegade?

Do I look a terrorist for you? Can I hijack
this plane with a cork of Champagne?

Sir... I will have to ask
you to leave this plane.

Don't forget to get us two cups.

Hey!

Henri, she totally
misunderstood your word.

- I swear I don't think to drink Champagne.
- Don't be a pussy, Ismael.

- This frustrates me.
- OK.

- You have to show more pride.
- You're right.

I don't want to end up
with orange jail clothes.

And been killed because of these people.
Fuck!

But the woman will not kill us!

I am talking about a tragedy, Ismael!

I'll go find cups as that
dummy hasn't come yet.

Wait! You'll make them kick us out!

That's him!

Hello, sir.

Ah! That miss resembles me to Jihadists.

I don't want to talk to that fanatic.

Sir, you give bad signs to our crew, so the
plane can't take off under these conditions.

Look, I might be fat...

But I don't wear an explosive belt!

- Sir, don't do that on-board our plane!
- Dear Lord, I'm Jew!

With no arm!

- Sir, I don't ask you about your religion.
- You are wrong...

An old Jew will not bomb your plane.

Where are the cups?

Sir, you go too far.
You look crazy.

Sir, would you please come with me?

My friend is old, we spent more than 2
hours in the security check, we're tired.

That's enough!
Ismael, tell them who I am.

This man is Henri Bloom, the filmmaker.

OK?
And he survived the German occupation.

I'm not just a survivor.

I've been a resistant since age of 7.

I held arms.

And he fought in Algeria
against ALN in 1965.

My apartment was shelled
with bombs by OAS.

- Correct.
- And I was off to buy bread.

- I understand.
- No! You don't understand me at all!

I'm not the one who plants bombs, sir.

I'm their target.

Since I was born, I've been the target.

Not the flagellant.

So, right now I want peace.

Did you write my speech?

Yes. Yes, I did.

Thank you.

From the depth of my heart, my dear.
Come here.

Would you please?

Good evening...

Welcome to Tel Aviv Film Festival.

I'm honored to be here
to introduce this man.

What Henri Blood did is something,
very few artists did.

He redefined our world.

Fought for us, in form and substance.

Please welcome a real cinematic hero...

My friend,

Henri Bloom.

Good evening.

Good evening, miss.

All your movies are
completely about absence.

Yes, of course!

Can we get more explanation from you?

I can recite few sentences, through
which you might get my point of view.

Don't you get bored of
that turning point...

That you pain for it...

a cut off from your close ones?

Don't you think there
something you miss?

The missed thing is not just a thing,

But isn't it something very close...

you hopelessly lost forever?

That once...

Out of the blue...

You remember it by some accident...

or by a death, like a ring
of an old bell in your ears.

And surely when you remember it,
it would've already been so far away.

Or maybe...

You still try to meet it in life

and follow it with hope.

And just at that point...

You re-own it.

Or at least...

You try to understand your fault...

and your failure to exactly measure...

Carlotta is back!

What?!

Carlotta is still alive.

Bloom's daughter is alive?

Does he know that?

Not yet.

Will you tell him?

No. That would kill him.

How I wish we could deal with
others like we deal with things.

For we know the weight of these things...
their taste... and their material...

So then, when we get
them we feel less pain...

Maybe we could even get them justice...
Respect... An love.

Hello.

My name is Carlotta Bloom,
and I'm back.

Excuse me?

I'm back.

You can put my name
back in your register.

I don't understand.
Put your name in what register?

I don't know.

There must be a register
for the living.

You have a register for the dead.

I'm a missing person.

Missing persons
is that counter there.

Thank you.

Did you lose someone?

Don't talk to me.

You look like my wife.

Look somewhere else!

What's your name?

Carlotta Bloom.

Double O.

Like the director?

I'm his daughter.

How long have you been
declared missing for?

I don't know.

Anything in your files?

You were judged "absent" in court
eight years ago.

- By whom?
- The magistrate.

At the request of Ismael Vuillard.

Your husband.

What must I do?

Have the Ministère Public
nullify the judgment.

You'll get back your estate as is.

Can I get my husband back?

No, the former missing person's
marriage remains nullified.

I've run away
to the city of my birth.

Here I am, finally home.

And I am in exile.

No river here.

But the canal blocks the city.

A filthy, stinking canal.

Swamps stagnate under the streets.

Nothing should ever be built
on such unhealthy ground.

One thousand years later...

the water is
still rotting, oozing.

Emanations, humidity...

cold.

The people here are ugly, defeated.

For years
I haven't seen my face in a mirror.

To feel peace.

Hello. Hi.

- Are the actors here?
- Yes, they are.

- Reading the dailies?
- Good morning

Good morning.

You okay? Ismael's not here?

We're all waiting.

- No director.
- First time.

- He's not home?
- He slept out.

- Who has he slept with?
- What?

Who is he screwing?
Actress, script girl?

Do your job, dammit!

He overslept in some broad's bed.

- Is Faunia here?
- In make-up.

Faunia! Here you are!

What did I say?
Get out!

- Are we alone?
- Just me.

Faunia, I have some good news
and some bad.

To start with the good news:
no rewrites today.

Now the bad.

Ismael isn't here.

Sorry to ask so bluntly.

- Where is he?
- I have no idea.

Nonsense, sweetie.

I saw him last night.

- Did he drink?
- I'm not a cop.

Sorry. Have you had sex?

- Zwy, please!
- When did you leave?

At dawn. Why?

He disappeared.
I checked his apartment.

It's empty.

He escaped?

He must be with Sylvia.
So tell me.

- Where can I find Sylvia?
- Sylvia left him.

Oh, no!

Come on!

Yes.

I'm at 160 beats a minute.

I measured the oxygenation
of my blood.

It's like I have sleep apnea.

So my rest is the opposite of rest.

- Is it alcohol-related?
- No, no.

It could be a form of epilepsy,
but it's very rare.

I read there's a gene
that causes nightmares.

HLA DQB1-05.

Can we see if my DNA has that gene?

You're exhausted.

I can prescribe you some lorazepam
or Diazepam.

You'll sleep heavily.
It suppresses sleep stages 2 and 3.

- It will really help.
- I don't want to sleep at all.

Or else, sever my hypothalamus.

Excuse me?

I don't want to dream.

- You must sever my hypothalamus.
- I'm not severing anything.

I can pay.

It's not about money.

What I can do is...

try to inject you with dopamine
before you fall asleep.

I'll do it myself.

What does dopamine do?

It feeds the nightmare gland.
It'll soothe you.

Really?

But you must sleep in the hospital.
It must be supervised.

I won't go to the hospital.

- Is Ivan here?
- No.

I went to high school with him.

- Still a diplomat?
- Yes.

Khujand Prison, Tajikistan

- So, how did it go?
- Very well.

Who did you meet?

- Prisoners.
- Political?

As well.

When will you get a license?

Good morning.

You look like a bum.

Hello.

Give me your gum.

Mr. Dedalus?

The new security chief is waiting
in your office.

Good afternoon.

Hello.

You kept the same combination
as before?

Better to change it, so I did.

Memorize the new code
and destroy this.

Here.

Sorry,
this is a little embarrassing.

- I see you opened the safe.
- I couldn't resist.

I've done drugs since I was a teen.

I wouldn't want my habit
to be a problem for work.

It depends.

- What kind of drugs?
- Hash or weed.

- Maybe an LSD on the weekend.
- You don't carry it on you.

You carry it on you?

That's not smart.

Sorry to be prosaic.

If I don't find any here,
what do I do?

Have it sent by diplomatic pouch
to the embassy.

- Got a friend to send it?
- Yes, in Roubaix.

A gray one.

And a brown one.

So listen, I met...

What?

Where are you going?

I think we're bugged.

- So let's remove them.
- No!

They'll get upset
and make it worse.

- Who?
- The Tajik police!

Being bugged is part of your job,
my love.

Arielle! What's wrong?

Arielle!

- What is it?
- Look.

They wanted us to know they came.
It's terrifying.

These aren't Tajik mikes.

Nice stuff.

They cost a fortune in the States.

Never saw this model here.

Maybe the Tajiks went modern.

Probably.

Who would plant mikes here?

This week you went to the Khujand
prison.

Yes.

Did you see this man?

- I'm not sure.
- It's an old photo.

It's Imam Farias.

Who's Farias?

One of the most wanted men
in the world.

Arrested
during the first Afghan war.

He was 25.

Every agency has traded him.

He's known every prison
and detention camp.

We lost track of him.

You're the first Westerner
to see him in 20 years.

What did you discuss?

That man has lost his mind.

He couldn't remember his own name.

How many lives have you had?

Like everyone.

Meaning?

Two or three.

You're in room 3.

Did you give me telescope hours?

Yes, starting tonight.

See you later.

I'll tear off your mask.

I'll turn you into...

a prince!

Come!

Cleo!
Come.

Don't bother this man.

- Faunia!
- Yes.

Ismael!

If you came to convince me to
finish the film, I'd say "no"!

I didn't come!

I'm just in your imagination.

I like living in your imagination.

I like that too.

Do you remember the first
time I slept with you?

It wasn't for pleasure.

- It was like a duty.
- I was somehow...

A new graduate from the faculty of Art,
me and Eric.

- Yes, and you were wacky too.
- I was novice.

I thought we had to know some actress,
because we need celebrities for the film.

You were brute.

You've been brute always!

I'm not the only one who
slept with an actress!

And, at the same time, I wanted
to discover new things.

You, little pig...
You made people look at us as whores.

- Weren't you already a womanizer?
- I never wanted to be that.

Come on!

Do you know how much bored
I was when we dated?

I was terrified.

You said nothing to me!

Maybe you did, but I
didn't get anything.

At that time you allowed
me to go to your place.

Then you ran away.

Yes...

Because you were so aggressive.

Sometimes, I have to run away,
to keep my existence.

Me? Am I aggressive?

My love...

You are a cancer.

You pose your bad cells
and leave then to spread.

And you grew inside me.

It took just a week.

And I started talking like you...

Thinking like you...

Then... I became you!

- And how it feels to be me?
- It is very agreeable.

But also dangerous.

I'm afraid to disappear.

- Do it like I do.
- What do you mean?

If I disappeared for a long time,
I swear, nobody would miss me.

Liar!
Look at your films, they're everywhere.

I don't see that.

Because you are the one who
occupy the big screen.

With your face in the
size of a mountain.

No!

No! You're the one who
occupy all the screen.

- All of it.
- Sorry. My work demands me to hide back.

And I guess I'm good in that work.

- You remember my slogan?
- What a scene you made!

- "Larvatus prodeo"
- I wear a mask".

Don't be my enemy.

My poor darling.

You don't need enemies.

You are the one who hurts himself more.

And what we do not to hurt ourselves?

I don't know.

I was born to live.

This is what I do.

This is the work of an actress.

I don't need to hurt myself, even a bit.

Even when I perform what I like.

But you...

You do everything you can, from
morning till night, to hurt yourself.

You endure it, so you go on with it.

I feel pain for you.

You are only good in hurting yourself.

And you terribly waste your time.

Only Sylvia knew how to
stop you doing that.

You didn't ring?

- Would you have opened?
- No.

I figured you'd come out
sooner or later.

- You want my coffee?
- Thank you.

- Your parents' house?
- My great-aunt's.

How did you find me?

With your credit card receipts.

I promised your banker
I'd pay the overdraft.

How are you?

Well, I have a film on hold.

Insurance stops next week.
The producer wants you dead.

I lied to the actors
to save your reputation.

Same as usual.

- You didn't give my address?
- Never!

I want you to call Sylvia.

I'll make you eggs, sunny side up.

Did you see? I bought hens.

Should I build a coop?

No. Finish your film.

I need you.

I'd like you to need me.

Is it the subject?
You're afraid of the subject.

How long have I been making movies?

My assistants or the producer
can finish. I won't go back.

Whatever you say.

I'll belt you, put you in my trunk
and take you back.

You're less strong
and you hate fights.

Maybe.

But you've been drinking.

I'm armed.

I doubt you could shoot.

- You like me.
- Yes.

You're old, my friend!

We're both old!

All you can do is direct.
You're too old to change!

I could teach. Literature.

You'll never find a school.
Or a student.

I'm in poor health.
I won't be around long.

Guess again!
It can go on forever! Look at me!

For decades I've sworn
never to work with you again...

and here I am in your yard,
chasing after fucking hens!

Come closer!

Closer.

1437.

1434.

The invention of perspective
in the Occident.

In the North.

And the South.

- What's the point?
- Look.

Different perspectives.

They thought they had
one universal system...

but in fact there were two.

From Holland to Italy...

there was an incredible
force-field!

An incredible hate
which destroys everything.

I'm not a Jew you can piss off.

Screw your Christian guilt.

If we understood the logic of it,
it would annihilate all hate.

Ismael...
It's time to go back to Paris.

My brother Ivan died.

My dear!

It's my father, who grew him up alone.

Finally,

It is the story of Jacob and Esau,
what scares me.

The brutal brother and the soft one,
and all of that.

The birthright.

And Ivan, at the age of 20...

He told me that he lived his
childhood in fears like Joseph

from been stoned by his brother.

Or force him to live in exile.

Look at this...

I think my brother was afraid of me.

Here, in France, Ivan hadn't
made a lot of success.

Nor even a girlfriend... Nothing at all.

Just a young man who's introvert.

He learned languages, and that
was his lucky strike. Languages.

So then, he chose the exile.

I remember that he used this word.

And he said it to my father in that way:

"I chose the exile".

And where did he leave to?

To Egypt.

- No! - I swear he visited
Pharaoh like in Bible.

He learned Arabic there.

No more for me!

And when did he die?

Five years ago.

I didn't hear of it.

I preferred not to tell you.

He had left Cairo at that time.

And works in Ethiopia.

My father did many attempts
to bring his body.

But the body was very decomposed.

And was buried there.

- Did you went to his tomb?
- No, I dislike a journey like that.

Ismael, you should finish his movie.

It is a duty for your brother.

It is a just a story
with bad-leveled plot.

My brother was just a fucking former
civilian clerk in Addis Ababa.

He hated me throughout his youth.

It was me, who quarreled with my father.

Ivan was just cry and cry, so he
escaped any big punishment.

I was 11 when I ran away to my Grand aunt's
house because of him, and he felt no guilt.

While the silly thing of my movie is,
as you've just said,

It is about a brother
of mine, I never felt.

It is my own view...
My own assumption about my brother.

I'm exhausted...
I'm exhausted.

He died...

And I don't want to relive him.

Won't you sleep here?

My friend,

you scared me enough.

I can't sleep at night.
Come on, stay, please.

It is terrifying here.

- Won't you go with me to the hotel?
- No, I can't.

I already paid.

I can't. Will you come over tomorrow?

Yes.

So, this is your interest.
Stars, and all such things?

Yes, it is my interest.

So, of course, you know
the names of all of them.

Some of them.

Thousands.

Tens of thousands.

Hundreds of thousands.

Wait! Do you like infinite
things like these?

I adore them.

I'm not surprised at all.

God, I am not afraid of you.

I'm not surprised at all.

Do you hear me?

I have no respect for you!

Tell me, was Ivan Vuillard
used to live with you?

The Egyptian Embassy
gave me your number.

Is he a live?

Yes, I'll send you my Skype account.

The Grand Hotel of Roubaix.
Zwy Ajoumer.

It is pronounced like that. Yes.

Ivan!

Zwy!

I'm glad to see you.

And you are OK!

Why do you say that?

For nothing. Nothing.

I just came over your brother's house...
And he was so worried about you.

So, I got the same worries about you.

Me? Why do you call me?
What happened?

- Did my brother die?
- No, no. He is fine.

He is very fine!

Actually, he went back to Roubaix
leaving us with half-finished movie.

Yes.
He is about to be crazy.

Yes, but no... No.
He is not ABOUT to be crazy.

My parents kicked him
off when he was 11.

Do you know?

Well, what I know most
that I fell on a big troublemaker!

You see?

What I see here is, political
troubles everywhere.

Then, Tell me...
How am I related with your film?

No, but it is about a great
amount of money, Ivan.

Ah! Brother is misrepresenting
the family again, right?

And who's the lucky one
whose turn came this time?

It is your turn.

But Ivan...
That looks a different Ivan...

a bit romantic for a diplomatic man.

Ivan!
Come back!

Ivan!

This asshole wants to ruin my life,
and you dare to call me to help him?

All my life I've been running away
from that piece of shit,

and you have nerves to call me?

I just need to annoy you with a call.
OK. Call him.

Ismael don't own a cell phone,
nor even a lot of emotions.

You can call my cell phone,
and I'll pass it to him.

I don't want you to convince him
with anything. Just call him.

At the end, Ismael is my friend,
and I know he wants to hear from you.

Ivan, I scolded and blamed him for
everything. I called him crazy.

You'll call him, OK?

Ivan!

I wasted my life.

What?

I wasted my life.

Why did you choose me?

Why did you choose ME?

Have I lost my mind?

No.

Am I in the hill?

Yes.

Are you the devil?

Oh, no!

I'm the last one who can help you.

I can't believe you!

Do you hear?

Hello, Mr. Bloom!

- How are you doing?
- Great.

One red pepper.

- Will that be all?
- Thanks.

You're welcome, Mr Bloom.
Good bye.

No! Go away!

Go away!

Hello?

This is Henri Bloom.
.

I need to speak to Ismael
immediately.

Hello, miss?

Ismael isn't here, Mr. Bloom.

I see my daughter outside,
out the window.

She cannot be alive.

She came back.

I saw her. At the sea. We spoke.
She stayed with us.

Why didn't she come to see me?

I don't know, sir.

Ismael was afraid to tell you.

No, it's too late now.

I'm too old.

She's no longer my daughter.

But you're still her father.

Miss...

I'm going to die.

You're not going to die!

Go see her!
What are you waiting for?

I understand that she's afraid,
but aren't you brave?

I'm an old man.

I loved Carlotta and I mourned her.

And now...

Hello?

Hello?

Hello?

Ismael!

Ismael, that's me.

- Open! - Sir?
- Yes? - Good morning.

Do you need help?

Yes, my friend is inside. He is sick.
He didn't show up this morning.

I'll break the window
and climb in.

- Won't you get hurt?
- No.

- Madam, please.
- Sir, be careful. Be careful!

Thanks, sir.

Ismael!

Ismael!

Ismael!

It's OK.
It's OK. It's OK.

Well, I guess I fainted.

Yes.

- I telephoned Ivan last evening.
- Really?

Why did you tell me that he died?

I don't know.

I imagined that you'd be touched by it...
I was touched myself.

Really?

And that made Ivan fool?

He said that you are dead for him.

- He said he is not your brother anymore.
- He's been telling that since 20 years.

But... Meanwhile, it's been a while.

Come!

The producers don't understand
the Czech dailies.

Your editor is at a loss:
no dialogue!

The sound man was a prick!

Fire whoever you want.

All we see are silhouettes
with moving lips!

For voice-over scenes.

Just add a narrator.

I'm not adding a thing.

Let the editor add narration.

- Who's the narrator?
- Claverie.

- The scene where Ivan is hired.
- The old unctuous guy.

Claverie.

He was stationed in Warsaw
under Gierek.

Everyone thought he was a mole.

- A communist mole?
- But it wasn't true!

Intel found nothing.

So Claverie ended up mothballed.
A mere pencil pusher.

After Dushanbe, Ivan gets named to...

Prague.

When he gets there...

who greets him
with a wolfish smile?

Claverie!

Ambassador once again!

Ivan starts his humdrum
civil servant life, but...

he still has a knack
for languages.

He wants to learn Romanian.

So he hangs around beggars.
The beggar-woman.

What does she tell him?

"Your mother's cunt".
An insult, no sound needed.

The security guy hates Ivan
because he has no cell phone.

You must be reachable!

I can always call the embassy
from a pay phone.

A gift.

A gift.

And there in Prague,
Ivan meets his Russian.

Imagine a Jackson Pollock exhibit
in Prague.

His first in an
Eastern-bloc country.

The Americans invite every embassy,
to show off.

Ivan is there,
alone in front of "Lavender Mist".

And this Russian sits next to him,
a little drunk on champagne.

They start talking about Pollock.

- Saying?
- That's he's figurative.

- Pollock?
- Yes.

They're compressed images,
always the same.

His family, his dog, his mother,
the brother he hated.

"Lavender Mist" is all the women
he could never touch.

Not Lee Krasner,
but gentle, tender women.

Nipples, shoulders,
lips, vaginas...

30 female nudes,
all stuck together.

A reprise of
"Demoiselles d'Avignon".

Both men speak
in front of the painting.

The Russian understands it all.

He says he loves him,
they're brothers.

He wrote a PhD in Moscow!

The brothers' names
appear all over.

Consonants, vowels, knives!

Pollock's rape
in front his brother.

How awful.

Yes, he had a sad life.

In the museum,
the men become friends.

- Are you French?
- Yes.

- You're not Czech?
- I'm Russian.

Then you put the roof scene.

They look at Prague,
the night, the stars.

The Russian's wife,
the two children playing.

Keep quiet! Please!
For a moment!

The Russian gives Ivan a present.

A coffee machine
or a teddy bear for Arielle.

For you! A Russian bear!

Thank you.

And I shot the rest.

I love your kids.

I love you all.

You're crazy.

I drank so much
I think I'm going to die!

You drunkard!

Yes, love me.

Love me!

Vanya...

My heart, full of gratitude.

Why?

I published an article
in a Moscow review.

Jackson Pollock!

Now, I've become...

very famous in my country
thanks to you!

Thanks to our talk!

- I'm thrilled.
- We must share the money.

What money?

That I made with the article.

No, no. I don't want money, Igor.

- Are you my friend or not?
- Sure I'm your friend.

So you must share my joy!

He's Russian.
He gave me a lot of money.

How much?

100,000 euros.

We just talked painting.

These were his other gifts.

Plastic flowers for me.

A coffee machine. A teddy bear.

Not to offend him.

You're both irresponsible!

Ivan is giving you
the name of a secret agent...

that you didn't spot.

He's exposed, as it were.

We'll nab this scumbag.

They follow the Russian
through Prague.

Pretend to bump into him.

My men at the Slavia café
are watching.

Igor!

Follow me!

I don't want you to die.

I'm not dying, honey.

Wake up! I don't want you to die!
You married me, so live!

What is this crap?

A Russian blows up in Prague
and no idea who did it?

The Russians maybe.

I have Moscow on my ass.
They want my head.

He was probably an FSB agent.

Igor wasn't FSB.
Just an ordinary employee.

100,000 euros, what Igor left,
is far from ordinary.

You're precious, Ivan.

Now tell me what you know
and what that sum buys.

I don't know what I know!

I wanted to ask,
but he got killed first!

- My husband is a spy.
- What?

My husband is a spy!

- That guy at the Khujand prison.
- Who?

His name was Farias.
Igor wanted Farias.

Save my husband!

Who did Igor work for?
Who did he call?

I have no idea!

- Who did Igor work for?
- Who do you work for?

I don't know!

- What did he want?
- No idea!

Who do you work for?

My God! Don't touch me!

I hurt you! I'm sorry!

Stay away, you old schnook!

Don't cry for me.

It'll hurt on three. One, two...

There we go.

I got the bullet.

Clean wound.

Sedate him before we all die.

I won't congratulate you.

I'm sorry.

- I was over-enthused...
- Shut up!

He'll survive.

- You in pain?
- Yes.

You're coming undone, Vuillard.

What are you...?

He won't suffocate?

No way. He's used to this.
He's a solid smoker!

Because I think he's kicking.

- You'll finish this film!
- He'll finish it.

You hear me? You'll finish it!

- You'll finish it!
- Zwy!

Feeling better?

Yes, much better, thanks. And you?

Straight through the muscle
to the radius.

I may never be able
to bend my elbow!

I'm so embarrassed!

You better be.

I called Sylvia.

- No!
- Yes.

Insurance covers
the two-week break.

It's time to write.
Sylvia said you like working here.

I know you're angry and in pain,
but can you untie me?

No.

- Don't leave me.
- She'll be here soon.

Don't leave me! Zwy!

Zwy!

Sorry.

No way!
You shot your line producer?

Yes.

Will you keep me prisoner?

Yes!

My love!

My love.

The Bloom girl is here.

I'll see her.

The patient has refused
family visits.

She's already there.

No.

Ma'am...

Are you his doctor?

There is no visiting.

How is he?

Does he have his head?

He was calm when he woke up.

- Is he warm enough?
- Yes, ma'am.

You must leave now.

Your father needs calm.

I'll wait. I won't speak to him.

Go home.

- We'll call you with news.
- No.

I'll wait till he wakes up.

Father!

Do you recognize me?

You are a spirit, I know.

When did you die?

I'm not dead.

- He doesn't recognize me.
- He's waking up.

Leave him a bit.

Where are my hands?

Where are my hands?

Leave me alone!

10 mg of Valium.

He's tied up at night.

You have five minutes,
then you must go.

Father? Feel my forehead.

I want you to bless me.

I'm an old man.

Do not mock me
if I don't know where I am.

You're in the hospital.

And you'll get better.

I think I recognize you.

You're my child?

It's me.

You're crying?

There's no reason to cry.

No, none.

Do you understand me?

You mean can I hear you?

Yes, I hear you well.

No, I mean...

Am I making sense?

Sometimes I get confused.

You're perfectly clear, Dad.

Why do you ask?

Why are there all these doctors...

and all these nurses
running in and out of my room...

as if there is an emergency?

You know they had to place
a pacemaker for your heart?

Yes, that's what I mean.

How old am I?

Eighty-three.

So what's the emergency?

Enough!

It's natural.

If a child is sick,
that's an emergency.

But running in and out of my room...

just because an 83-year-old man
is dying...

is no emergency.

It's ugly to behave like that.

They're just doing their job.

Placing a pacemaker
has become a standard procedure.

So I have no choice?

I don't know.

Tell them to stop.

That's not my job.

You're wondering how it ended?

Bloom died,
and his daughter left.

Ismael mourned his friend
for a while.

He thought that Bloom was
indestructible.

He liked living in his shadow,
like under a tree.

He still travels the world
to show his films.

Ismael never mentions Bloom to me.

Because the sobs come back.

One day, during the spring...

my period stopped.

And I thought...

with great sadness...

that age had caught up to me.

And then...

I was expecting a child.

Ismael is overjoyed.

He keeps counting on his fingers...

how old he'll be
when our child is 15.

He loves to say
that we'll be elderly parents.

Last week...

I visited my brother
in the clinic where he is staying.

I told him the news.
"I'm pregnant."

Pierre made a strange face.

Then he smiled.

I think he thought
it was the right thing to do.

I took his hand...

and put it on my belly.

I watched Pierre, surprised.

He looked at my belly...

and understood...

he's no longer my child anymore.

In one fell swoop, he lost a mother
and a wife.

He felt...

great anger.

But my brother's tenderness...

and his desire to protect me
are so strong...

that he hid his feelings.

But I saw.

I saw his jealousy.

His disarray.

Life has come to me.

I'm pregnant with Ismael's child.

- Working?
- Yes, working again.

Again.

- Again.
- Again.

- Again.
- Again.

- Again.
- Again.

- Again.
- Again.

- Again.
- Again.

- Again.
- Again.

Again.

Again.