All language subtitles for Daens (1992)corrected

Aalst, Belgium - end of the 19th century

Pick up those bobbins!
Put that basket away!

Watch out!

What's this?

Go on, pick it up.

Pick that up!

If you don't work - then get out!
Get out, bitch!

And you, 20 centimes fine!

I didn't do anything!

20 cents or you're out too.

Professor Daens,

is it true that you want to leave
the college of Dendermonde

or not?

I've had nine beautiful years,
Monseigneur. That's enough.

You've had nine years of troubles
with everybody.

Them with me, maybe.
I won't deny that.

Anyhow,
now I want to go to Aalst.

I have a spot for you as a junior priest
in Drongen.

You're expected there tomorrow.

You know very well that I've had
real problems in Drongen.

And indeed, with everybody.
I remember, because you still have.

I don't think I'm welcome there.

You can hold your own.
You are making it difficult.

Shouldn't you consider in peace
what you actually want?

- You're not happy anywhere!

You're right, Monseigneur. That's
why I'm leaving for Aalst tomorrow.

If you really need me,
you can find me there.

Please, Lord,
free us from Daens.

In the name of the father,
Son and Holy Ghost. Amen!

May St. Ursula protect our factory
in these troubled times.

Hail Mary, Mother of God.
Lord be with you,

blessed above all women
and blessed is your Son Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us, now and forever. Amen.

You there! Get out!

There, there are more!

There's Nini!

Those coals are ours. Get out!

You don't need coals.

Aalst! Two-minute stop!

Two-minute stop.

And? Where are these socialists?

- All this panic for nothing!

Well, well! Father Daens!

Adolf... What a surprise!

Am I not welcome?

Or is Aalst yours only now?

No, no.

But the bishop did not inform us.

- Where do I send this, Father?

To my brother's,
printer Daens.

Read "Forwards"!
The socialist paper!

Read "Forwards"!
The socialist paper!

Please sirs, for you it's free!

Don't hit me!

According to Belgian
law, I can...

I'm the law here

you can nothing. Back to Ghent!

Guys, dirty Lisette has potatoes.

Lisette!

Gee, what a potato.

My potatoes!

There's another fat one.

Thieves!

Let's go, fellows. Run!

My potatoes! Thieves!
Bunch of bastards!

What are you doing?
This is no cemetery or dunghill.

- Why are you
bringing this here?

- Throw them away at your place.

Throw it away!
I'm fed up with this child.

Look there!

Father, do you agree with him?
Dumping his corpses here.

What can I do with it?

It's not up to me to bury her.

Besides, I need my cart.
I've got work to do.

- What happened?
- Frozen to death, Father. Feel it.

It's the same every day.

Farmers find them and bring them
here instead of burying them.

Does anybody know her?

- Everyone knows her, Father.

Nini, with the wet cherry.

So, potato-thief, maybe you also
know where her parents are?

Yes, over there somewhere.
Around the corner, under the bar.

"Whose arse is this.

Whose arse is that.

Whose arse may this well be.

But man, this is the coal bag.

That coal bag belongs to me..."

Fellows, they've released a crow!

Cover your bum, your man is here!

Gust! That's a priest!

You're not looking for favours
around here, do you Father

or are you looking for the devil?

- I'm looking for Nini's parents.
- Hot Nini, with the wet cherry?

Gust!
Over there, Father.

Listen, if you're here
to lecture us, don't bother!

And certainly not about that whore.

It's everyone for himself here.
And our poor-box is empty.

But...

do you know what
happened to her?

Did you see her?

She's banged up. We know.

And leave my man alone.
None of your business!

- Indeed.
This is the one.

Red swine, I didn't do anything.

You haven't either, did you, Jef?

She liked it.
She came to ask for it herself.

Here.

Don't let them bury her like a dog.

Buy her a coffin.

- Hey, more thieves!
- Uncle Adolf!

- Are those boxes for us?
- Of course! Choose, you skunks!

Adolf...
gee! It's been a long time!

Can I move in here?

Run off again?

I hate priests,
the college makes me sick.

I could teach you in private
and finally pay you back.

Don't be silly. you're welcome!
Peter will be glad!

- I hear you're still kind to your readers.
- Adolf!

What a surprise!

- Travelling through?
- No, I'm staying!

Does your bishop allow this?

Here, competition.

You trust yourself on the streets
with such a newspaper?

Where did you get it?

A socialist's gift at the station.

- Any room for me on the front page?
- If you want...

ENOUGH DEAD CHILDREN IN AALST

Did you read this, Borremans?

A catholic paper against our ideas
agitating the workers against us.

You must talk
about it to Woeste.

You do it. There he is.

Have you read it Mr. Chairman?

I'm aware, my friends.

I will bring reason to
that little printer.

It's going too far.
Aalst is getting more dangerous by the day.

They insult and loot us
and threaten our women.

They terrorise the country
and this newspaper.

- Don't exaggerate, Druwe.
- Do I?

- Let's not waste our time.

That paper I can handle.

These workers shouldn't bite

the hands that feed them.

The church should take care of that.

As an employer you take care of
their salvation too.

You don't know these workers.

- They have the same worries
as us directors.

How many factories will
survive the crisis in Aalst?

If the government won't subsidize
me, I will close down.

There will be no subvention.

But you promised...

My colleagues in the government
don't want state intervention.

They recommend the English method.

Limit production costs to
enable competition.

Lower the wages?
That's impossible.

It's not, I pay them 1.60 franc
for 14 hours work.

- Cumont pays 2 franc for 11 hours.

- And he's still complaining,
he's going to go down.

If we all draw the line, they
even will accept 1.40 franc.

While a loaf of bread costs 60 centimes
and a bag of coal 1,50?

Pay them with potatoes.

Why not?
The money goes to booze anyway.

- They won't survive...

They also won't survive
if the factories close.

- Gentleman, please...

Poverty is not the problem.

I agree with that, Mr President.

Gentlemen, to me it's dangerous
to lower the wages now.

People are already upset.

We could implement the Scottish system.
Three workers to four machines.

And if we only let the women work
we save half.

You can't mean that?

- It's an interesting idea.
- The Scots still do it as well.

Three female worker to four machines.
12, 13 or 14 hours per night?

Are there not enough accidents
already?

How many fatal accidents
have you got?

And you, Antoine? And you all ?

Save us your demagogy.
In every war there will be casualties.

You are monsters. All of you!

We liberals stand up for our workers
who live in total poverty.

No aid from you, and
Aalst will lose its industry

and you -
your constituents.

I'm sorry to interrupt,
Mr. Woeste and you gentlemen...

...but now it's time
to relax.

- What a charming thought.
- Don't hide, Junior.

Say hello to Mr. Woeste.

Hello, Junior.

Work hard and you'll be a big executive
just like your dad.

Who is teaching you?

We are looking. They have recommend
Father Daens to us.

Father Daens?

The brother of that printer.
Let's hope he thinks differently.

It doesn't say a-e, but e, consul-e.

The root always stays the same.

Carry on.

Latin bores me, Father.

Don't recite it like a parrot,
without knowing what you say.

- What is written there?
- Consul.

- Do you know what that is.
- No.

Only women and children. Go away.

Let those children pass.

Out, Scholliers,
no work for you.

- Because you say so?

Too old. Try to work in Germany.

Let my dad in.

- What's your name?
- Nette.

Take his place at the spinner.

I work in the laundry.

Nette, don't talk.

Here.
Don't work barefoot.

No work, Andre!
Scottish system, you're off.

I'm going to work.
Or do your machines work alone?

- You cost too much.
- Too much?

Must we pay to work here now,
according to your Scottish system?

I don't speak Flemish,
but I know what you write.

I received countless letters.
I quote:

"Every day children die
at the gates of the factories."

Mr Daens, if I didn't know better...

...I would think this is written
by a socialist.

But it's true, Mr Woeste.
Too many children die.

You only stir up commotion.
Don't forget your catholic subscribers.

As leader of the Catholic Party...

...I won't let you smear the
pillars of our society.

I assure you, Mr Woeste...

Excuse me...

- May I introduce my brother Adolf to you?

- Adolf, this is our chairman.

- Pleasure.

You've arrived at the right moment.

I just warned your brother
about the context of his article.

As a priest why don't you try
to reason with him.

That would be difficult.

And why so?

Because I wrote the article
myself.

Decent of you to protect him...

But your cassock makes me
disbelieve you.

I hope your conceptions
do right to your costume.

That goes without saying.

But some of your ideas don't
match your clothing.

If you want to keep your soutane,
don't start again.

You're crazy!
Talking to him like that...

What'll we do now?

We? You just carry on...
...with another article.

Come here. Take these two to the six and
from now on take the five as well.

Sort it out among you.

Go on!

Get to your machines!

To machines!

Hang your coat there.

Watch out.
Wait till the machine is stationery.

Tie up your hair.
It's dangerous like that.

- Keep your hands off me.
- Don't be afraid...

I'm not as bad as they say.

Leave me alone.

If he touches you once more,
I'll beat him up.

I'll smash his face.
I'll beat Borremans as well.

You don't believe me, do you?
You'll see...

Show Ponnet in!

Monseigneur.

Is what Daens writes true...

Or not?

Depends on the point of view
the facts are considered from.

- I'm a priest, a shepherd.
- That's not what I asked.

Nobody can deny that poverty
reigns in Aalst, Monseigneur,

just like in many other cities,
but we do our best to help.

Did... Daens ever show you
his sermons?

No. I'm not good enough!

Sometimes he doesn't even
bother to speak to me.

I try to behave like a Christian,

but my feelings do not
really matter here.

You can have it for a week.

You can kiss it at your leisure.

Put on your hat...

easily someone could hit you.

So, Catalina comes in
and you speak to him directly

and remember:

you only have one hour
to save your life.

Borremans, come out,
I'll hit you!

Come out, if you dare!

Get him, Titus!

Don't!

Stop that dog!

Titus!... Heel!

- Leave me alone.
- I want to help you.

Priests are for the rich.

Father, what is going on?

Father, come... your wounds
need treating.

No need to clean up St. Ursula.

No celebration for her this year.

And neither for us. No mass.
No party.

Leave them alone, dad.
Come on, go home, dad.

But father, you are hurt!

- You scare people.
- Guess so.

But this needs to be tended to.

- What's your name?
- Nette, Nette Scholliers.

Come.

- We have nothing as it is.
- Mama , this is Father...

...Daens.

Good morning, Madame, Monsieur.
Sorry to bother you.

I bumped into something.

Sit down, Father. Nette...
Take a clean towel.

Welcome, Father.

Kids, look here!

A real priest in the house.

Frans! Forgive him, Father.
He was fired at the factory.

- Louis... Wannes

No need to wake them.

If they don't see you
they won't believe you were here.

Come on, Wannes, open your eyes!
Open your eyes Louis!

Doesn't matter. They have to go
to work anyway. On the night shift.

They never go to school?

The two youngest do, sometimes.

The others work at the plant.

Good workers. All of them. And our Louis...

Louis...

He's a porter at the town hall.

Close your eyes, Father.

Louis, get up, the priest is here.

Let him be, he's drunk.

- Nette!

Louis is a Buck.

At night they beat up the reds.

Shut up. The Bucks are bastards.

What is going on here?
Someone needs a beating?

If you want to, do like the priest
and beat up your friend Schmitt.

He can't keep his
claws to himself.

Nette, don't discuss this now.

- But ma!

Schmitt is boss.

That doesn't mean
he can touch me!

No more of this.

- Schmitt is not the only one, eh?
- Louis!

Say that again if you dare.

Let's pray first.

In the name of the Father and the
Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Lord bless us and this meal.

In the name of the Father and the
Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

A potato, Father?

Or a cup of coffee?

Thanks.

Nora is a good cook. Enjoy yourself.

Now that you're here, Father,
may I ask you something?

What would you do?

For 30 years you work for a director
through thick and thin.

- Frans...
- Shut up!

All these years, you walk in his beautiful procession,
his procession for St. Ursula.

And then, suddenly, he says:
"Get out!"

What would you do, Father?

You'd still go to his procession?

Not me...

No, Father, not me.

Provided his sermon is decent
and deals with higher ideas,

nothing actually opposes a priest
to share with a large audience.

But Father Daens' sermon
is of shocking triviality

and I regret to say, is revealing
a shameful demagogy.

Quite right, Mr Woeste,
quite right.

But after all, this subject is only
inspired on Rerum Novarum...

and on paternal preoccupations
of his holiness Leon XIII

for the
condition of the workers.

This encyclical doesn't mention the stirring of
the workers against those who feed them!

Now, Daens has created such suspicion

that the government considers to
send an investigation committee to Aalst.

- What a triumph for our enemies!
- On the contrary, Mr Woeste.

If, as you say,
we are talking about slander,

an inquest will prove
that Father Daens is wrong.

A word from you would suffice,
to reduce him to silence.

Father Daens is careless,
Mr Woeste,

but... he has a brilliant mind,

and in that case, I'm not sure
that a reprimand is enough.

Monseigneur, you have other means than a
mere reprimand to ensure his obedience.

When a priest uses his cloth to spread
hostilities, it can be taken away.

Mr Woeste, I'm afraid that only the ecclesiastic
authorities are capable to judge this.

Of course, Monseigneur.

But you must understand me.
I came in everybody's interest

to avoid this matter from going
beyond this diocese

and leading us to appeal
to higher instances.

An energetic cure at the right moment
can prevent complications.

Don't you agree?

I understand you perfectly
my son.

An investigation committee
in the factories of Aalst!

An investigation committee
in the factories of Aalst!

Read "The Worker"!
Read Father Daens' new article.

Read "The Worker"!
The paper of good Catholics!

Read "Forwards!"
The real paper for the worker!

Large demonstration in Ghent
for general voting rights!

Read "Forwards!"
the socialist newspaper.

You there. Yes you miss!

He wants you.

You must buy this.
I wrote something for you.

I will read it to you...
...in your ear.

Leave it. It's some fool from Ghent.

You Reds can't read.

Your paper smells of hell.
Give me a clean catholic paper.

Hey, Fonske! - Read "Forwards"!
The real newspaper for the workers!

Here. Read this to me,
I can't read.

Me neither...

Read "The Worker"!

You there, big mouth. What is written here?
Can you tell?

- I can't read this catholic jargon.
- I told you he couldn't read.

Give that paper to me.

Ladies, great news.

"Thanks to Doctor Dupont
and his magical salts,

constipation is a thing
of the past!"

- That's not what it says.
- No? Who can read? You or me?

- Then read us Daens' article!
- Here is your article:

"Common sense has prevailed.

The government has
decided that a committee

of 6 honourable personalities

will investigate
the factories of Aalst.

They will be able to interrogate
the workers directly..."

Surely, you don't believe what the
priest says, that they'll listen.

They're all the director's friends.

If you want respect from them,

you must change the government.
Hence, the parliament first.

But since we don't have a say in parliament,
we need voting rights first!

Who are you to criticize Daens?

There is no one like him in Ghent.

Your priest says the same we do.
But we said it first.

So loud that we didn't hear it!

Besides, Daens is in our paper and
not in yours, you red cabbage!

This committee only comes to eat.

- Not potatoes, but fat steaks.
- What are you talking about?

That Daens is a saint.
He will change the factories.

Priests are sly and change nothing.

You don't know what a committee is.

We, socialists,
demanded 2 francs for 12 hours.

So what?
Daens asked 12 francs for 2 hours.

You wise ass!

The riddle has been solved
by a great catholic,

Put all your children to work.
They'll never get ill.

Here my friend, sell mine too.
You'll be more successful.

So no more schools to raise.
Weavers...

Sold out already?

- Do I get anything?
- For what you want from Nette,

you'll have to do more than read.

Buy us a drink and we'll forget
you are a socialist.

The Bucks!

And our Louis!

There! Let's get him, fellows.

- Red dog, damn it!
- Shit ass!

Brussels? This is Aalst.

May I speak to Mr Woeste?

Damn...

Doesn't work?

Thank you.

Eugene, I've never interfered,

but this concerns my family.
Please, I beg you.

For Junior's sake.

To reconsider the whole thing.

Mr Daens has always been welcome,

but he has gone too far! Christ, he demands
that my factory be investigated.

You must separate matters.

- Tell Daens!
- No, I'm telling you.

This is about our son.

My son will not be
educated by a socialist!

Not a word about it!

Shut your mouths!

Take off those rags!

- Off!
- They're all I have.

Then go home!

And no stupidities, you hear?
You know what to say!

- And us?
- You will not speak!

These are serious people from
parliament. At your machines!

At your machines!

Marie, ask Julia to
swap places with me.

Julia... Do you want to swap
with Nette?

Nette...

- Schmitt!...

An excellent foreman,
knows the factory very well.

Ask him any question you like.

Attention...

Aren't these machines dangerous?

No, sir. The director has had
new modern machines installed.

It's only dangerous when you drink.

I feel that I am going to find
me a spot here!

- Do you like to work at night?
- What about your husband? Any kids?

- She only speaks Flemish.
- What does she say??

She's happy.
She says she's very happy here.

She wants to work nights,
so she stays with her kid in the day.

Excuse me. Any toilets here?

- I'd like to go to the bathroom.
- No, no, it's ladies only.

What about the men?
- This way.

Is it far?
- No, at the director's.

Sir, do you speak Flemish?
They locked the children in there!

What is it, my child?

They're lying!

Go on! Tell him!

We're treated like animals.

We...

Every day there are accidents
because we are too tired.

What is she saying?

Excuse me sir, we're running late.

- Problems Schmitt?
- No, sir.

Scholliers!

Satisfied?

Two francs fine.

Stupid cows.
Why didn't you say something?

- It was our only chance.
- We tried, but they didn't understand.

You were wiggling with your hips.
We should have pulled together.

There won't be another committee.

We will die like rats!

Come on, Milleke, get on!

This isn't your bed, come on.

Get to work!

At your machines!

Faster, come on!

Milleke!

Damn it, watch where you going.

- Mother, is dad coming home tonight?
- Yes, honey, he'll be right there,

but be quiet now...

- I'm so hungry, mother.
- I know, son,

but... Listen!

Josee!

There's daddy.

- Josee... Where's my dinner?
- You smell of booze again!

- Drink is our downfall!
- Give me food, I tell you,

- or I'll go back to the pub!
- A piece of bread is all

we have left.
It's for Fonske.

Give it here!
And speaking about Fonske...

I'll go and ask at the factory
when he can start!

No!

He's old enough!

- But Jules! He is only six!
- I was only five!

Milleke!

Move!

He is dead!

Clarisse, Julia, take him away.
I will get water.

Nette, don't. - Get off!

Come on, Nette.

This is understandable not only
in Flemish.

Everybody, to your machines!

- Wait a minute.
- Let me through.

Josee.

We are rich!

Jules, did the director give you a raise?

Yeah, as from today, I am working
one floor higher up!

But you're home so early!
Yes, I really hurried.

By the way... where is our Fonske?

He's gone to rehearse at the choir.

Good. I like that.

"Even without knowing the result,

the coming of the committee
is an important step forward".

"The Committee"? The Committee!

Pieter! Father!

Borremans is closed.

Something must have happened.

Gendarmes!

Draw your sabres!

Officer!

What do you want?

We want to see the committee.

Gentlemen, please come this way.

You can come along if you like.

- They have a dead child, commander.
- Take it from them. - But...

- Do it!
- Yes, commander.

- Charge!
- Oh, no!

Where is Milleke?

It's coming from Mijlenbeeck!

Hey, no! Stop!

Look what you've done.

Fool! Look what you've done.

Get out of here! Get out!

Get lost!

I suggested to Stillemans that you
give a sermon on Rerum Novarum,

but he insisted that I do it.

- Have you read my sermon?
- Yes.

- What do you think?
- Very bad.

The St. Matthew's gospel we just heard

is telling us about the miraculous multiplication
of the bread and fish.

Lots of them, hundreds, thousands
of men, women and children, rich and poor,

had followed Christ
and had been listening to Him.

When the evening came, the apostles

asked him to send the crowd home,
or to the surrounded villages

to find food and shelter.

And he said "Why don't you feed them?"

They told him there was barely
enough for themselves,

5 loaves of bread and 2 fishes.

He looked reproachfully at them,

asked the people to sit,
looked towards heaven,

blessed the loaves of
bread and the fish

and had his disciples share them.

There were 5 000 people.
They all ate.

They all had their fill.

Beloved parishioners,

if Christ teaches us
that it is our duty

to share without prejudice
of rank or class,

if he gives away the little food he
has to complete strangers,

then why shouldn't this be the duty
of the Belgian bourgeois class

toward the poor, who they know?
Who work for them!

Or do these people, who claim to be
faithful servants of the pope,

think that the gospel
is not meant for French ears,

because it is written in Latin? People scream:
"We're hungry!" Loud and clear.

And these words should not
be thrown to the wind.

It is time the voices of the
poor were heard in this country.

Besides, my dear friends, how come,

that the voice of the rich is always
much louder than a poor man's?

Why is a poor man's vote
worth less than a rich man's?

Who has a right to say: "You
are good and you are bad,

you can vote, and you cannot?"

Unbelievable!
He preaches universal suffrage!

Gentlemen, directors. What does the pope,
whom you like to quote so much,

what does he say
in his encyclical Rerum Novarum?

"We are convinced
that we should improve

the fate of the lower class
because a large part of them

live in undeserved misery."

My dear friends, it is clear that

our Holy Father, Pope Leo XIII, and Christ
are speaking the same language

and that an end should be put
to this organised, established injustice.

And remember, my friends:
you don't have anything.

It is not you who have to share,
but those,

who have just left this church.

How can you be so clumsy?

Thanks to your brutality,
Daens has all the trumps.

Be more clever with you workers.
Give them soup,

knit them scarves...
That will make us popular.

The pope wants more charity.
That's the right policy!

I'm not sure that's enough.
The situation is too serious.

- They demand the universal suffrage.
- They'll never have it!

I'm sorry, but...
a lot of people think otherwise.

Half of the factories are striking

for the universal suffrage.
The agitation is such

that it would be a miracle if Aalst
escapes this revolution.

Mr Woeste, the strikers find support
everywhere, even within our own party.

Father Daens runs a campaign
for the universal suffrage,

within our party.
- Throw him out.

- Him, his brother and the others.
- No, that's not enough.

That would turn him into a martyr.

There's only one
way to finish him.

Unfrock him!

In civil clothes
this priest will be a nobody.

I'll go all the way to the Vatican.

- Not in that thing, you won't!
- Very funny...

We must be aware that many workers
will turn their back on the Church.

More so the reason not to hesitate
and to be firm to Daens.

I'd love to, but I won't be degraded
to Mr Woeste's errand boy.

Send Daens to the Congo.
They're short of missionaries.

Then Daens will stand with the blacks

and they'll all return with him.
I know Daens.

Hurry up Willem,
I have work to do.

Sorry Monseigneur, the only solution
here might be a prayer.

Arise, ye wretched of the earth...

UNIVERSAL RIGHT TO VOTE

Monseigneur...

This is the result
of your reckless talk!

Father Daens!

You are a priest
to spread God's word,

not the socialists'.

If there is inequality on earth,
it is because God wants it.

I wouldn't say that.
You reason like Woeste.

He turns God into a Belgian

who bars everyone who isn't a Belg

from entering his heaven.

Quiet... Daens!

I haven't asked you here
to discuss politics.

Once more, you embarrass me
with your difficult character.

Instead of visiting pubs in your robe,

don't you think you should look at
yourself and try to find out

whether all this popularity

doesn't stem from the pursuit
of pure vanity?

You don't listen to anybody,

because you want them
to listen to you!

Professor!

That is not the issue.

The seriousness of the situation
in Aalst escapes you.

You and I are facing hard times.

Flanders is lost if Aalst becomes red.

That's what catholic workers think.

You are stumbling over your own brains.

To give you a chance
to do penance for this,

you will temporarily celebrate
the mass in solitude.

I forbid you to preach
in Sint-Martinus church again!

Don't do that, Monseigneur!

- Monseigneur, I beg you...
- Kneel,

so that I can bless you.

More...

No, or there'll be nothing left
for the little ones.

Let them work, if
they want to eat.

I'm on strike.

- Slacker! Ask Louis.

- Louis is a rat.
- Don't speak about him like that.

- You don't work either.
- Don't talk to father like that.

- You shut up, you're on strike!

Give it back, you can't do that!
It's for Jannes.

Give that potato back!

Enough!

- If that's how it is,

there's free soup at the factory.

- Sit down.

We eat only what we've earned.
That soup is for the poor.

We are poor, Dad!

- Worker or striker?
- I don't work.

- Go away.
- I work.

- Why don't they get anything?
- You only get soup if you work.

Do you think I'm crazy?
Do you think we feed the reds?

That soup is poison!
Belgium strikes! We must join them!

Do you want them to laugh at us?
That soup is to break the strike!

We, the socialist, are giving
soup to everybody.

Real good Aalst onion soup for everyone!

Don't believe them. Who wants some?
Don't eat it. It's pagan soup.

Don't believe them.

Let's all strike! Strike
for the universal suffrage!

I think he's right.
We must carry on the strike.

They'll think you're red too!

I don't care, I'm hungry.

Who else?

I'm sure Daens supports the strike.

- He should say so.
- But he's gone.

You'll never see him again, believe me.

Where is Daens, Father?

A priest is like a soldier.
He goes where God needs him.

I want to know where Daens is.
You're hiding him.

- Ridiculous.
- Then were is Daens?

Now, now, friends...
Leave the Father alone.

I want to know where Daens is!

- Where is Daens!
- Schmitt, no more soup.

No soup for strikers!

Have you gone mad?
Leave that kid alone, you idiot!

- Where's the soup?
- But, Elizabeth.

Wasn't that soup for everyone?

Long live the strike!
And the universal suffrage!

Not enough salt.

One million more votes...
That's preposterous!

You insult the people!

Gentlemen! A little dignity, please!

The vote is closed.

I'll read to you the result of the vote

on the law proposal from Mr Nyssens,

on the introduction in Belgium
of plural suffrage.

Have voted in favour: 119

Have voted against: 14

Abstentions: 12

The proposal has been accepted!

- Adolf... Something wrong?

I'm looking for a nice "C".

"Christian People's Party".
"Program".

Here, before you're covered with ink!

How many will we print?

- Thirty thousand?
- To start with.

And one for Woeste. In gold.

We'll be the biggest party in Aalst!

VOTE FOR FATHER DAENS

There's room on Woeste!

You fought for the highest right
of man on this earth.

The right to speak freely.
And you won!

From now on, you too will decide
what your and your kids future will look like.

The socialists!

Go on, Father! It's good folk
that come to listen.

Friends... I know your children
are starving,

that you hardly ever eat meat,

that they pay you with wet coals.

But does that surprise us?
No, because for years

the catholic party has
oppressed the workers

and pushed them into misery,

deaf to their cries of despair.

Comrades, shall we once and
for all throw off the catholic yoke and finally

- have our own say?
- Yes!

Comrades! For that, unfortunately,
we are not yet strong enough.

Friends! We, the liberals,
are not strong enough either!

Therefore, we propose
to join us and vote for Father Daens!

Against the Catholics.

Long live Father Daens!

And the socialists!

And the liberals!

Friends! From now on
you won't have to fear...

You won't have to fear
that your voice won't be heard.

If injustice is guaranteed by the law,

then the people must rise
and with a swift kick

get rid of all this crap and injustice!

It's every workman's duty

to support each other in the
struggle for a decent life.

Sorry for this building site,
Mr Woeste, but

a king must continually built
his kingdom, mustn't he?

- I hope your family is well?
- Very well, Your Majesty.

It seems the universal suffrage
was inevitable.

So be it. What do you propose as a remedy?

A stronger catholic unity, sire,
and more firmness from the priests.

Eventually, the red demagogy
might endanger your throne.

To fight their influence,
we have the church,

but it doesn't support us enough.

- Cardinal Goossens has arrived.
- Let him in.

What a coincidence... We talk about Church's
problems and Goossens asks for an audience.

Should we see him?

- It's up to you, Your Majesty.
- Very well.

Come in, Monseigneur!

We were just discussing, Mr Woeste
and me, a subject that concerns you.

Father Daens, I suppose?

I understand that Mr Woeste feels very
strongly about this priest becoming elected.

I take the opportunity to answer him

that nothing in the canon law permits us

to forbid a priest to run for election.

Of course, but, as I recall, a priest must obey
his bishop if he forbids public activities.

That may be, but it's up to the bishop,
and only him!

Come now, Mr Woeste, could a little priest
present such a danger?

No, Sire. I will solve
this problem somehow.

Great!
Great!

One, two, three, four, five...

You must count five letters.
Not six!

- Five, yes!

Otherwise, you vote for Woeste!
Or do you vote for the directors?

So count five letters - as many as
the fingers of one hand.

- Six!

Mr Woeste himself
honours you with his presence.

A warm applause for him
and his great sausages!

Good evening!

Long live Woeste, our
voice in parliament.

Who wants this gorgeous sausage?
With a nice glass of beer?

Drinks are on us!

They're good sausages!
Thank you, Mr Woeste!

- Can I have a sausage?
- Sausage? - "Saucisse"...

Of course! Give him one.

- I can't vote anyway.
- Yes, very well.

"On the 5th of September, in 1862,

they climbed in Wolverhampton
in their balloon

to a height of 8 838 meters,
where they measured..."

Today is election day
for the Belgian parliament.

All Belgians older than 25
must vote. Don't forget!

Voting for Daens is a mortal sin.
You'll go to hell if you do.

The catholic party protects faith.

So remember to vote for Mr Woeste.
God bless you.

Voting for Daens is against God.

It leads you straight to the devil. Scholliers...
Voting for Daens is a mortal sin.

The catholic party protects our faith.

So remember, it's Mr Woeste

who deserves your vote. Bless you,

- my child.
- Who's that?

Don't believe what he says.
Are you voting for the rich?

Are you deaf? Voting for
Daens is a mortal sin.

They say he's not a real priest.
They say he has a wife.

Who says so? Louis?

They're all lies.
Don't you believe that slander.

Vote for Daens.
Otherwise, nothing will change.

- Here's my salary.
- How many letters in Daens?

Six!

Five letters, Dad, five!

Daens

Daens

Daens

Woeste

Invalid.

Invalid.

Invalid.

Yes?

Just as we thought, Adolf!
We checked everything.

There are hundreds of forms too many.

That bastard Woeste let
all the dead of Aalst vote.

For now we were able to reject the Daens
brothers' objections

concerning your campaign,
Mr Woeste.

The charges of corruption
or violence were removed.

But we can't ignore the figures.
They can't be published.

There were far too many
ballots in the boxes.

Because of this blunder, we'll
have to start the vote all over again.

Believe me Mr Woeste,
we don't have a choice...

Daens... has been elected!

- Daens... has been elected!
- What!

- Daens has been elected!

Daens... has been elected!

Daens... has been elected!

Anna, give them to mama. Thank you.

Now go and tell them in
parliament that we are brave people.

Yes, and tell
them we're hungry!

Tell them they should not forget
who they're dealing with!

Long live Daens!

Long live Daens!
Long live Daens!

So, Father, you finally found a parish.

My dear friend, it's a pleasure
to have you as my parishioner.

Father Daens, the delegate
of Aalst will now speak.

Well, let's hear him...

I'll speak in French, because

I understand Mr Woeste is
not yet advanced enough

in the Flemish language to understand my statement.

Mr Woeste is accusing me
of lying concerning the poor of Aalst.

According to him there are only
1400 people on welfare there.

This honourable member,

who is always afraid of being too generous,

calls even this figure exaggerated.

Don't put words in my mouth.
You quote me incompletely.

Two lines written by a man can hang him.

Oh, but there are more lines.

They come from official documents.

We know this kind of documents.

They're secret documents only
for the use of Mr Woeste and friends.

That's not true. Please, enough.

- Sit down, Mr Woeste.
- I'm only beginning.

Mr Woeste, I have here the real
official documents from the Public Administration,

according to which the register
of the poor contains 10,000 needy.

It's still more optimistic than reality.

- I want to explain, Mr President.
- Calm down, Mr Woeste.

You also must explain why
I'd be lying about the workers' wages.

I said they were making 10 francs a week.
You questioned that!

You were right: they don't
make 10 francs, but only nine.

And if I should believe a letter

from Ninove, they only make 6 to 8 francs.

But Mr Woeste doesn't know all this

because he has never set
foot in a worker's home in Aalst.

He prefers to stay on the balcony
of the town hall,

with the workers at his feet,

waiting for a sausage or a beer.

Finally, allow me to tell you this:

I was walking along the Dender,

when a woman came up to me.
She asked me for alms.

Her husband was out of work.
She had four children,

a 14 year old girl being the eldest,

who had finally found work
in a cotton factory,

where she had to work, underfed, from 6:00 in the morning

till 7:30 in the evening,

in an unhealthy atmosphere.
Barefoot in tepid water.

Well... do you know how much this young girl,

who in these winter temperatures
must be literally frozen, takes home?

Fifty centimes per day. Per day!

Well, I ask you gentlemen,

knowing that at the age of 20,

this girl will be worn out
because of this slave labour,

when in turn she'll be a mother herself,

won't she curse her fate?

Won't she curse the society and the civilization

we are so proud of?

Unity, my friends. Unity.

The Holy Father, who I represent here,

believes that the greatest danger
menacing the catholic world now is disunion.

Unfortunately, I have to admit

that Father Daens is succeeding in
creating dissensions even amongst you!

And who is the guiltiest of
these dissensions, Mr Nuncio?

Father Daens, who suggested an alliance,

or Mr Woeste,
who has rejected it?

The Church is cautious.
It owes a lot to Mr Woeste.

Within the actual disorder
and the growing threat of socialism,

men like Mr Woeste have to be spared.

This attitude is hard
to conciliate with the evolutionary

thoughts of Rerum Novarum.

Rerum Novarum is a general guideline

aiming to promote the evolution
of spirits on a long term basis.

By using it as a weapon against the catholic party,
Father Daens is using it without consideration.

That is what I tried to
make him understand, Monseigneur.

Now, I fear it may be too late.

Father Daens is a political man now

and every initiative against him
taken by the Belgian episcopate

could be misinterpreted.

Let us not underestimate his popularity.

You're right. I agree with you.
But in that case, who could decide?

The Holy Father himself?

You're sure?

If the Holy Father penalizes Daens,
we will lose all the catholic workers.

But if he receives Daens
without penalizing him,

what a publicity for Daens!

Well, gentlemen, let the Holy
Father decide all this for himself.

No?

Your turn, Monseigneur.

It's done. The Belgian episcopate
passed on the decision to the Holy Father.

Good. It's been a long time since
I requested his Holiness' blessing.

Father! For you,
they just brought it in.

Well?

- I have to go to Rome immediately.
- What?

The pope wishes to see you?
Adolf! This is our chance.

Hey, hadn't you better take the train
to Rome, or don't you know

Daens has taken off with Nette?

Having coffee with the pope.

Are you wearing this
posh suit for Sunday mass?

I brought you something.

You'll see that our bread is
at least as good as in Aalst.

I suppose you need something?

You don't have to blush.

I thought... I thought
we might get married.

That is, if you want to?

They certainly move fast in Ghent?

- Or is there something else you'd like?
- No,

or yes, that too.

We could live in Ghent and you
wouldn't have to work in the factory, see?

I would be marrying a socialist?

I would agree with the church wedding,
if Daens performs the mass

and the "Forwards" band plays for us.

My father plays for St. Cecilia.

Could be nice with the two bands.

Come on, let's go.

One beer.

- That's mine.
- You can't afford it.

Oh, yes, I can.

- You have no job.
- I have a job.

No more.

All swines that voted for Daens are fired.

- Fool, I can't vote. I'm too young.
- Doesn't matter.

I'll tell Daens.

You won't see Daens anymore.
He's stuck in Rome.

In a prison for crazy priests.

Here you are.

- Make yourself comfortable.
- Thanks.

Reverend Daens...

His Holiness can't see you today.

Come back tomorrow, same time.

I'm sorry, but I understood
that my convocation was urgent.

- Is there no mistake?
- I am sorry.

Even with Daens in
parliament it still stinks in here.

That's your fault, not Daens'.

Daens is sitting on a holy pot now.

- I wonder what that'll change here.
- We'll all get rich, won't we?

We'll come and shit in top hats.

Gust, give me a piece of "Workman".

We're not out of it yet.

Feels good.
Here, one for Schmitt!

Cuppens, Segers, Vlanders,
Poekens, you're fired.

- I just got here!
- All Daensists out!

Reverend Daens...

Again, I'm sorry.

But... there's nobody here.
What does that mean?

You may be more lucky tomorrow.

See you tomorrow.

Jefke...

Where are Jef, Maria and the rest?

I threw them out.

Why?

They're dirty reds, like you.

Then why did you keep me?

Come on, Nette.
Be kind to Schmitt.

If you touch me, I'll tell Daens.
You'll answer to parliament.

To whom? To Daens?

Just come here.

You can tell your Daens, that
now you know how he has to do it.

Jan...

- Who will feed them all?
- Goddamn!

Don't interfere, brat.
Where have you been?

You'd better help your mother.

What's wrong with you?

I know what's wrong...
That red one got her mouse, eh?

He's crazy.
She'll kill him.

Go away, Louis. Go on, go!

All right. All right, I'm gone.

Damn it! I'm gone for good!

And forget about my wages.

She can walk the
streets like all Daens' women.

- Damn it!

Go to bed, you.

What happened?

Was it Schmitt?

Father Daens, please.

Monseigneur...

His Holiness sends you this.

- I don't understand.
- Yet, you understand Latin?

Allow me...

You must do everything to promote piety,

slant your speeches towards
justice, love and cautiousness.

Your dignity and honour
as a priest must prevail.

Don't mix with those

who want to overthrow society

and avoid to cause any
dissent within the catholic party.

That's clear enough, isn't it?

I understood, but this is wrong!

What do you mean, wrong? The Church
is telling you keep away from the socialists.

Or else, it will abandon you.

I must see his Holiness.

I must speak to him about our workers.

I'm sure he doesn't know
their real situation in my country.

I must explain it to him!

Adolf...

Send them home. I won't see anyone.

You're crazy? They come for you.

Pieter!

The pope didn't see me.

Father, what did the pope say?

Dear friends, I am
grateful for your affection.

In Rome, I have
accomplished important things.

We will fight on together,
and achieve the ideas expressed

in the encyclical of the pope.

But unity should go along with justice.

One can't occur without the other.

You can always rely
on me, in life and death.

I've been told the workers
should go to school. What for?

What do they really get out of it?

To be able to read papers,
like that one, for instance?

Papers that confirm that a certain
priest had an audience by the pope.

In the first place,
this priest was summoned to Rome,

for disciplinary reasons, and secondly,

according to trustworthy sources at the Vatican,

has never had the honour of being
personally admonished by the pope.

And these very same liars want
to teach us a lesson in morals,

while acting as if they were
upholding virtue and religion?

Mr President, I wish to speak.

Ask the pope!

Let him talk. Respect your priests.

Mister Daens, you have
seen who your friends are.

My dear parishioners, it is with our great regret

that we have to ban the writings
by the Daens brothers for all of you.

Or we will lose our eternal soul.

Dear parishioners,

let us pray that this ban
imposed by our dear bishop

may lead our lost
sheep back to the right trail.

Nette is ill.

We need money urgently, Adolf.

Your allowance is enough for food,

but it can't support a party.

We'll have to get
organized like the socialists,

with our own bakery, own weaving mill

and even a savings bank so
people get paid, even when ill.

Pieter, that's not the problem now.
I got orders.

The pope wants me to resign.

That's impossible!
All these people fought for you and voted for you.

These people fought for a cause,
like you and I, not for a person.

My superiors force me to silence

but that doesn't ruin the cause.

Without you it will, you know it.

Pier, want some more?

Friends, I just met the socialists.
Their cooperative needs 20 people immediately.

Jan will tell you more.

Comrades, we'll pay 10 francs and soup.

We have soup.
But not 10 francs. Come let's go.

Women take the flags!

No! No flags!

Those who want it, can work for
the socialists, but not as Daensists.

No Christian flag over there.

Religion doesn't butter our bread, Father.

My son lost his job because I spoke to you.

We mustn't forget the
socialists are our enemies.

We'll never vote for you again.

Why do you say that, Father?

The socialists are workers like us.

Who beats us up?
The directors, the Bucks.

The bishops give you a hard time.

Why do you stay with them?
Why do you obey them?

You, who's supposed to get us out of the shit.

Why can't you stop their turning on us?

We will have to suffer even more.

Nette...

do not abandon our Lord.

If you don't abandon us.

Nette, hey, don't worry.
He is a priest forever.

How would you know?

You can see he's trying to save his skin.

That's not true.

Nette...

Nette, wait!

Nette! Your Daens is a bastard. You hear?
Without us he is nothing. A nobody.

Damn it!

Nette, I love you!

No, don't be afraid.

Our dear director of missions
has chosen him specially for me.

- Which tribe does he belong to?
- He's a Baluba, Sire, from Kassai.

Sire, isn't he dangerous?

Don't fear. He's gentle, sociable.

- Is he baptized?
- Yes, of course.

A better catholic than some whites.

By the way, Monseigneur,

have they finally put
an end to the Aalst scandal?

- What about that priest?
- Mr Woeste knows, sire.

We have proposed a solution.
It's up to him to give the answer.

- Well, Mr Woeste?
- It is not a real solution, sire.

Father Daens demands that his seat
be transferred to another Christian democrat.

It's out of the question.
Daens has to leave unconditionally.

The Christian democrats
spread the bed for socialism,

and since the Church doesn't act
efficiently, I will make the necessary moves.

Perfect, Mr Woeste.

Daens!

- Daens come on out if you dare!
- Come along to the cemetery.

The grave is ready.

Look, priest of the devil.
Look, what'll happen to you.

Daens!

Step outside, priest!
So, we can hang you.

Are you scared, bastard?

Black crow, where are you?

Come out, Daens!

Adolf Daens! Coward!

Show your faces, cowards!

We want your brother, printer.
Father Daens!

Come on, you coward.

The print shop!

To the printers! Let's go!

Burn the "Workman"!

The Bucks are attacking
the Daens'. They'll destroy everything.

- Father, the Bucks!
- The Bucks? They're everywhere.

Better come with me!

- What's going on?
- The Bucks.

They've been at your
brother's too. But nobody got hurt.

Where is Pier?

But Father!

Pier!

Come on, Pier.

Why are you still here?

It's not so bad.

Pieter, listen to me
and don't talk back for once.

Stillemans will find me something.

Try to save whatever you can.

I'm pulling out.

Do it for Louise and the children.

"Autumn"

"Under high, big trees
in a very dark wood,

where hardly anybody ever comes,
you'll find acorns spread on the moss.

Many clever young animals really like these acorns

for the fair when winter comes."

5 loaves and 2 fishes, he said.

Our Father, who art in heaven

hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come.

Thy will be done on earth and in heaven.

Give us our daily bread.

- Our Father, who art in heaven...
- Your miracle won't work!

- Let's go steak some beets.
- I'm coming, I'm hungry.

Father Daens? As abbot of this
convent, I must tell you that you are here

upon Monseigneur Stillemans' request.
You are lucky that we

respect the duty of obedience.
Don't forget that.

By the way...

Don't get any illusions about your flock here.

They are beyond your reach.

The only thing expected from you,
is that you read from the Bible,

because they can't read anymore.

You can start right away. The book is
open at the first letter to the Corinthians.

Our Father, who art in heaven
hallowed be Thy name.

Thy Kingdom come.
Thy will be done on earth

and in heaven.
Give us our daily bread.

Our Father who art in heaven,
hallowed be Thy name...

My task is to spread God's Word,

but these men don't need it:
they are with God!

We're talking about you, not them!

Without the Church you are lost.

This was your last chance, Daens!

The Church has no
place for you anymore!

You are no longer a priest!

He didn't confess before he died.

He's a sinner, I can't bury
him. You know that very well.

Must we bury him like a dog?

- This is a child, Father! - He's a thief,
everyone knows that. Age has nothing to do with it.

Who's that child?

It's Jefke, Father.

He was hungry.

He wanted to pinch
the meat from the wild animals.

- Have his parents been told?
- He's got none.

He won't bury him.

- Come, let me do it.
- You are no longer a priest.

You can't even wear the cloth.

- What are you doing?
- Like you say...

Priesthood, Ponnet,
has nothing to do with an outfit.

Don't do it!

That's blasphemy! Adolf!

Our Father, who art in heaven...

Don't follow him.

It's a mortal sin.

The Church will destroy
you, like all heretics.

Friends, may the death
of this innocent child,

murdered, by egotism and misery,

always remind us that, in this
turbulent struggle, there's only one enemy:

those who will exploit you;
and only one ally:

those who are suffering beside you and with you.

We'll call our first one Jefke.

Adolf Daens died in 1907
after a 2nd term in parliament.

"He was buried on Monday at 9.00 a.m.
Only poor people were present,

women with black scarves, workers,
strikers and a silent crowd..."

Translated by Utter_Nutter Productions
zjs