All language subtitles for The.Invisible.Circus.2001.XviD.AC3.CD1-WAF

The summer of 1969,
my sister Faith went to Europe.

She never came back.

I was 12 years old.

Sometimes people have
more power over you

when they're not actually there.

I keep looking for her,
not just in memories.

I'll see a girl
coming around a corner

and for a second,
I actually believe it's Faith.

I go to concerts of bands
Faith used to like

waiting for her to appear
magically in front of me.

She's never there.

I'm always too late.

My sister's death is a mystery
I can never seem to solve.

But I can't let it go either.

Her body was found
on the rocks below Espichel,

a tiny fishing village
in Portugal.

I remember when they told us,

the sound of the phone ringing
in the middle of the night.

They say she killed herself,

she took her own life.

I've never been able to believe it.

- Mom, come in. It's starting!
- Okay. Coming.

I've been thinking...

about maybe going somewhere.

Oh, yeah? Where?

Europe.

Just traveI.

I could start college a year late.
I have the money Dad left me.

Seems a little out of left field.

That's 'cause I never do anything.

I want something real
to happen to me.

You know? I feel like I'm this...

this zombie.

I'm relieved
you're saying this, Phoeb.

I've been worried about you.

Why?

Just lately
you seem so cut off.

And then I worry,

maybe it's my fault.

I keep holding you back.

So I can go.

No, sweetheart, no.

It's a bad idea.
Isn't that obvious?

Of all things, that?

You let Faith go.

Maybe I shouldn't have.

Here's a pathetic list of facts:

I spend too much time
watching TVwith my mom.

I never go out and when I do,
I never fit in.

Last Christmas,
I moved into Faith's old room.

I know it's weird,

but it's the only place
in the world I feel good.

Sometimes it's little things
I remember about her.

Her hands, the way she laughed.

And sometimes I'm not sure
if my memories are real,

or just from pictures.

But I'm sure there was a moment
when everything was perfect.

Before my father got sick.

You see,

there used to be four of us.

My father dreamed of
being an artist.

Instead, he worked for
a giant corporation.

He hated it,
hated himself for working there.

Faith said it's what made him sick.

How come he never paints me?

You don't sit still long enough.

You sit still.
He doesn't paint you either.

There's something I want to tell you.

What?

Yesterday, I bought you both
some treasury bonds.

Why'd you do that?

For when you leave high school,
so you can travel,

see the world,

do things you can tell about
for the rest of your lives.

My father thought he was born
a generation too soon.

We were the ones who could
do anything, change the world.

I'm waiting for you to
dunk your head.

Faith believed him completely.

After he died,

Faith was completely lost.

She would skip schooI and stay
in her room for days at a time.

Student demonstrations
in Paris

raged into their third day,

threatening the very stability
of the French government.

The students have torn up streets,
erected barricades

and painted slogans everywhere,

a favorite being:
''Below the Pavement, the Beat.''

The 60s entered our lives that summer

like a call to Faith from our father.

She got involved in everything,
in civiI rights

and even against the Vietnam War.

She was arrested, busted.

She was driving my mother crazy.

More than anything, I wanted to
go with her on these adventures.

I waited for her to come home.

Sometimes she would sneak into
my room and wake me

and tell me every amazing thing
that had happened to her.

Balance.

Did we wake you?

It's okay.

- Is it morning yet?
- Almost.

We're cooking breakfast.
We're going to watch the sunrise.

- Does Mom know?
- No.

It'll be our little secret, okay?

- Want me to take you upstairs?
- No.

Go to sleep?

Come in the kitchen with me.

Look who I found.

Hey, Phoebe.

Wolf was Faith's first
real boyfriend.

He was from England
and was studying at Berkeley.

He'd organized a student group.

He could play
any Van Morrison song.

And he was the only one
who could keep up with her.

Who are those people?

I don't know.

But where'd you find them?

At the Invisible Circus.

We've all been to
the Invisible Circus.

- You went to the circus?
- It wasn't really a circus.

It's more like
a grown- up's funhouse.

- No animals?
- I didn't see any, did you?

- I saw a gorilla.
- Oh, yeah. There he is.

Phoebe, let's go dance.

Something's happening. FeeI it?

What?

Everything's changing.

It's all going to be different.

I like how it is.

No.

This is better.

This is history.

Hold on.

She jumped high, high, high.
She touched the sky, sky, sky.

She didn't come back, back, back
till the Fourth of July.

I'm going to tell you
a secret, okay?

Wolf and I are going to Europe.

Why?

Remember what Dad
was telling us about?

Traveling the world?
Living life?

Let me give you this,

to wear untiI I get back, okay?

So you don't forget me.

You okay?

Yeah. I just wish
you guys weren't going.

Know what? Before you know it,
we'll come back.

What'll you do when I'm away?

Cry.

You should write me poems

about the sadness in your heart.

- I have it in my bag.
- You sure you have it in your bag?

- But what's this, my darling?
- That's a passport.

- Your pillow and toilet paper.
- I can't carry all that.

- Know what European toilet paper is?
- I'm not a cameI.

I forgot the camera.

European toilet paper
is tougher than American.

- Your first postcard.
- Thank you.

I haven't even left the country.
Read the inscription later.

But...

I promise to send you one
every day till I get back.

- Make sure I do that, okay?
- I will do that.

I love you! Read my postcard.

Bye, Faith!

Love you!

I love you!

Bye!

I'll make you some lunch, huh?

Grilled cheese? Something like that?

Dear Bean:

God, I'm missing you already.

I know it's going to be
hard to be away from each other,

but Bean,

I'm so excited
about what's ahead.

The most amazing things
are happening.

I need to be a part of them.

I need to make a difference.

One day, you'll understand,

and then it will be your turn.

I love you always, Faith.

No, it's okay.
Will you call me if you find it?

Okay. Thanks.

I'll get you tonight about 8.

Yeah, 8 o'clock sounds good.

It's your turn to
pick the restaurant, okay?

- Look at this poor guy.
- Who?

They shot the Italian prime minister
and left him on the street.

What a beautifuI day.

I guess you don't really care.

About what?

The prime minister.

What kind of question is that?

It's terrible, yes,

but I don't feel it personally.
Why? Do you?

There's something I've been
wanting to tell you.

And I'm afraid.
Isn't that funny?

Then maybe you should wait.

That's an odd suggestion.

Doesn't matter. I know what it is.

No, I'm not so sure you do.

Jack, right?

You and Jack.

How did you know?

For how long?

For a month or so.

What about Dad?
Does he fall by the wayside?

Phoebe, your father
died 9 years ago.

How can you even look at
someone like Jack after Dad?

I know you adored your father.

But you were a little girI
when he died.

So you have no idea
what he was like, as a husband.

You and Dad weren't happy?

No, I didn't say that.

We were in love.

We had wonderfuI times.

- And problems, like any couple.
- You feel guilty, so you say this.

Guilty for dating another man
after 9 years?

Because he never got to paint.

Because work made him sick.

You mean your father got leukemia,

a blood disease,

from working as a manager
in a business office? What?

No, because he hated
working there, Mom.

Oh, please. Spare me.

This is crazy! Everybody knew!
Dad knew it. Faith knew.

What Faith knew was meaningless.

She believed what he wanted her to.

What does that mean?

Your father used Faith
to prop up these myths

about himself.

It was her function in his life.

- Dad loved her more than anything.
- Oh, yeah?

Maybe if he'd loved her less
he'd have been a better parent.

He made her responsible
for his happiness.

That is no good!

- You were jealous of his love for her.
- Yes, that's true.

You were too, although you
don't want to remember it.

Not me.

Oh, fine.

You let Faith go.

You did it.

And you never even tried to
find out what happened.

That's not true.

- Mom.
- Go away, Phoebe.

Why don't you leave?
Did I do something else?

Why don't you say it and go?

Dear Mom:

One: I love you.

Two: I'm sorry.

Three: I'm going away now,
which is the best thing.

Four: I will be carefuI.

Love, Phoebe.

Hey, my little Bean.
We made it.

Amsterdam is unbelievable, man.

There are so many people here,
from all over the world,

just like us,

all believing in the same things

reaching for something new.

We're living on this houseboat.

It works like a commune.
Everyone just pitches in.

The cops don't bother us.
They're like our guardian angels.

Do you know this guy?

I'm sure you'll like it.

Dear Bean: We've been
traveling through France.

We had to get away from
the craziness of Amsterdam.

I've been thinking about
Dad a lot these days.

Sometimes I feel like he's
watching us from up high.

Yesterday, we visited
this beautifuI church

and I prayed for the first time
since he died.

For a moment,
everything seemed connected:

me, Wolf, you guys,

the entire universe.

Transcendently yours, Faith.

Nothing.

We're in Paris.

Wolf.

I'm Phoebe.

I know who you are, Phoebe.

I know who you are.

Jesus.

I've got a clear picture of you
standing outside your house,

waving to us as we
left for the airport.

I remember that.

I thought about you a lot,
hoping you were all right.

I'm all right.

You know my name's
really Christopher.

Christopher.

Yeah.
Not as exciting as Wolf.

What?

Nothing.

Are you here with friends?
You're going to traveI around?

I came to find out about Faith.

I'm going every place she went:
Paris, Berlin, Amsterdam,

all the way to Portugal.

What do you think you'll
find out by going down there?

I don't know.

Maybe some sort of an answer.

I thought you could help,

tell me what you know
or what you remember.

I wasn't with her at the end.

I know, but she was still
in love with you.

It said so on all her postcards

and you understood her
better than anyone else.

Okay. Fire away.

Why did you leave San Francisco?

You want to start at the beginning?

You were so involved there.

Why'd you guys just leave?

We were involved, yeah.
But nothing we did mattered.

The war was still going on.

We were angry, disillusioned,
so we left,

still believing we could
change the world,

but from a different location.

From the minute I got here,
I loved it. Loved it.

The people, the language,
the culture.

We joined
a political theater group.

- We did wild things.
- Like what?

The U.S. had just invaded Cambodia.

They were bombing villages,
killing innocent people.

We found out about a dinner
the American ambassador was giving

and Faith had this idea.

...but for the purpose of
ending the war in Vietnam

and winning the just...

peace...

we all desire.

U.S. out of Cambodia!
U.S. out of Cambodia!

Who do you think you are?

This is outrageous!

Outrageous!

Guess what! It's outrageous

to drop feathers on politicians,
but it's okay

to napalm a country
and its children!

Wasn't afraid of anything, was she?

No.

See, me,
I'm afraid of everything.

Why are you doing this?

- Why go through this again?
- To find out what happened.

No, you know what happened.

No, because in her letters

it all sounded intense and alive.

Phoebe, she killed herself.

She killed herself.

You don't understand that.
Like you think...

I don't know what you think.

Then why not tell me what happened?

- What? Was it drugs?
- Yeah, it was drugs.

It was anything that came along.
That was your sister. But...

it wasn't just drugs.

Then what?

- You must have some idea.
- No, I don't.

Except when you do crazy things
for long enough, they seem normal.

To hold the edge, you go
further out. Faith could do that.

Only one thing I saw her
scared of: stopping.

All her energy,
her incredible hope, it turned.

She thought she was changing
the world, but in the end she was

looking for kicks.

Don't walk away. If you don't
want me to talk about her, don't ask.

Remember Faith how you want,
but leave me out of it.

Don't get me wrong, I loved her.

I'll probably never feel
that way about someone again.

I'm going back to the hosteI.

Why don't you stay with us?

Then promise you'll
call me tomorrow.

Can you just tell me
the last time you saw Faith?

July, 1970.

We had a fight one morning
and then she was gone.

She heard about groups in Berlin
doing crazy stuff, so she went.

Why didn't you go?

I was tired of doing crazy stuff.

I was still here when it happened.
I talked to your mom,

told her what knew,
but it wasn't much.

Yeah, I remember you calling.

Thank you.

Hey, Bean.
Finally, I got your letter.

Wolf has to wait for the poem.

We're taking a break
from each other.

It's a little scary on my own.

But then I remember
what Dad used to say:

''Walk into your fear.
Don't fight it.''

Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack,

dressed in black, black, black,

silver buttons, buttons, buttons,

all down her back, back, back.

She jumped so high, high, high,

she touched the sky, sky, sky.

Something's happening.

Something's happening.

Step on a crack,
break your mother's back.

Step on a crack,
break your mother's back.

I knew it.

I knew you'd always come back.

I've been here all this time,
waiting for you.

Couldn't you feel it?

Sometimes.

But other times, you disappeared.

I've been in one place.

You just had to find me.

How do I get across?

You push.

That's it? Just push?

When I say push, Phoebe,

I mean really push.

Come on, baby!

You got to give it more than that.

- I'm trying, Faith.
- Are you trying?

Crossing over hurts.

But you got to be willing to
suffer a little.

Goddamn it!

That's not pain.

Not like what I'm talking about.

You've got to push harder,
much harder.

We'll do it together
on a count of three, okay?

One.

Two.

Three.

Faith!

Where are you?

Here. Over here.

Over here. Over here.

Look.

Where are you?

Not there. Don't go there.

Don't go there.

What are they doing, Phoebe?

What are they doing?

I don't want to die.

I don't want to die.

Stop!

Stop!

Don't. Don't.

Now let go.

Let it go.

Transcendently yours.

Faith.

Phoebe.

What happened?

I don't really want to tell.

Well, I think you should
come and stay with us.

Okay.

Phoebe, this is Claire.

Claire, Phoebe.

I'm happy to meet you.

FeeI better, I hope.

Yeah, much better.
Thank you for letting me stay.

No, it's a pleasure
for us to have you.

Want a nap before dinner?

No, I'm fine.
I'm still sore, that's all.

I'd prefer it

If we didn't talk about Faith
in front of Claire.

Was I doing that?

No, not at all.
I'm just saying let's not.

I hate inundating her with all that.

I won't mention her.

Okay, thanks.

It's funny, I always feel
strange in English.

Like he's a stranger.

In English, I am not me.

You are living in San Francisco?

I met Phoebe
when I was at Berkeley.

- How old are you?
- I'm 18.

She says you're very young
to be traveling alone.

This name you are calling
Christopher...

Wolf?

It's a nickname.

Oh, like animal? Wolf?

Yes, the eyes.
He never told me this name.

It comes from where?

It was Faith, I think.

Faith?

He told you about Faith, right?

Yes, of course.

I remember Faith,
but why...?

I'm her sister.

I didn't know you were
the sister of Faith.

I'm sorry.

She didn't know who I was.

I know. It was idiotic.
I'm sorry.

We go?

Sure you don't want to come?
Everybody speaks English.

No, I'm really beat.

AUGUST, 1970

She came back after Berlin.

I promised I'd never talk about it.

Why?

She got involved in something.

Involved in what?

Just tell me what happened.

Did you go with her?

Yeah, I went with her.

I went to Berlin with her.

We've been doing it all wrong.

Something can't be happening
every minute.

Yeah? Well, we can't keep
calling ourselves anarchists

if all we do is get stoned
all day and party.

Nothing's really changed.

Adolf Hitler built this place.
We just get stoned in it.

We met a woman, a journalist.

Spent a couple of days with her,
talking, learning, listening.

She became like a hero to Faith.

Then one day, just after
we got there, she packed it in.

She went underground
with a group called the Red Army.

You heard of them?

They were the most radical
political group in Europe,

at the top of the Most Wanted List
in Germany, trained with the PLO

and planning something incredible.

- Did you meet them?
- Couldn't meet them.

You couldn't get near them.

It was the 4th of July,
believe it or not.

We went to this party.

There was a guy everyone said
was connected to the Red Army,

creating an underground
support network for them.

That night was the beginning
of the end.

No, it's true.

So the rumor's true?

Everything's true that you hear.
They are accepting resumes now.

You got qualifications?

He's taking the piss, Faith.

I shot a rabbit once.

A prodigy.

But you haven't
any more recent experience?

Targets, Coke bottles.

A couple of clay pigeons.

- What gun?
- 38 revolver.

- Where do I sign up?
- Let's go. This guy's an arsehole.

You don't believe me?

You're right. He's an asshole.

You're an asshole.

My father was murdered
by the company he worked for.

They poisoned him,

infected his blood.

He was an artist,
so they killed him.

Know what it's like to watch
your father be poisoned to death?

Anything you do...

doesn't matter.

He dies.

Been fighting back all my life.
That's one thing I know.

What you do alone
is always too small.

Come on, let's go.

No, it's cooI.

- He doesn't care about your father.
- But I do care.

I do.

Welcome back.

Thanks.

What happened to Prince Charming?

Come on, don't be jealous.

I'm not. Where have you been
for more than a week?

Don't ask like that.
Where have you been?

I've been here, worrying about you.

What the...?

I found them.

You got to find a way in.

You can't bring me in?

No, I'm too new.

And I'm American. It's...

What do you do for them?

You know, errands, little things.

They're it.

And they are planning
the most amazing things.

Hold on a second. Hold on.

Why?

Because this is a mistake.

Everything we talked about,
you don't want it to really happen?

We never talked about guns.

What do you want to do then?

Keep making up new slogans?

Crash another dinner party?

It's not enough.

What do you want to do,
shoot people?

You want to be a soldier?

I got to split.

Where are you going to?

They're terrorists, aren't they?
Terrorists?

They're revolutionaries.
And you're just afraid.

No, I'm not afraid.

- Yeah, you're fucking afraid.
- I'm not afraid.

I'm not afraid.

Get out of my way.

You want out? Pull the gun.
I'm surprised you haven't already.

Fuck you!

You know what you're doing,
so pull the gun.

- What is your problem?
- My problem is you.

Show me what you can do
with your big fucking gun.

- Just let me go!
- No. You do it!

- Do it! Pull the gun!
- Let me go.

Fuck you! I fucking hate this!

You hate it. Some revolutionary.

Come on!

Safety off.

Is he watching you now?

Is Daddy watching you now?

Don't go.

I went back to Paris.

A month later, on the street,
I saw the headlines.

The group she'd joined
had robbed 3 banks in one day.

Took 200,000 dollars.

You're saying that
Faith was involved?

Why am I laughing?