Il était une fois, une fois (2012) - full transcript

THE BELGIAN JOB

Go on, Madame.

Please.

Thank you.

That's my Willy!

How are you?

Alright?

You haven't changed.

We ugly people age well.

How's Sandrine?

Good 6 months ago.
No news since.



She left with an An-twerp.

- A Fleming?
- Ja meneer!

How did the kids take it?

The boy sulks all day,

the girl messes up at school.

All my fault. Their mum says
I'm genetically a dead loss.

- Same number plates?
- Better for parking fines.

Smart thinking, huh?

Thanks.

I thought you hated football?

I'm an immigrant
trying to integrate!

Here for long?

Shit, Willy!

It's been 5 years! Stay a bit.



- I may stay longer.
- How come?

I'm up for a job.
At the Westin Paris-Vendôme.

Cool! Doing what?

Same as in Dubai.

Weren't you a concierge?

Yes. Same as in New York.

So you'll be welcoming people?

Like the hotel front man?

That's right.

What a pity.

I'd have loved you to stay.

I can leave you here.

C'mon, Willy!

The Westin Paris-Vendôme

won't hire a spokesman
called Willy Vanderbrook

with a Belgian accent.

I don't have an accent.

Maybe not.

But I don't!

You do when you lose your rag.

You've called me "French Toast"
since we were kids.

French Toast this,
French Toast that!

French Toast fucked off!

So I'm too Belgian
to work in France?

Your mother comes from Toulouse.

Frouzins, not Toulouse.

So what?

Know something?
I haven't said a word.

Zero.

Anti-Belgian racism is over!

Belgians are everywhere!

Am I everywhere?

Movies: Poelvoorde, Van Damme.

Literature:
Amélie Nothomb, Philip Geluck.

Even fashion:
Chris Van Hache at Dior.

Belgian is trendy.

So Belgian is trendy?

I'll show you how trendy.

Hey, stop! You're insane!

Know Jacky Ickx?

Red light! Stop!

Shit! What the fuck are you doing?

Turn off the engine.

Excuse me for apologizing, sir.

I'm sorry,

in Liège we have a saying:
"Red go, green stop.

"Or watcha, Belgium,
here comes trouble!"

Indeed?

I'll let you off this time.

But be careful.

Heart-warming.

Bye for now!

Meet Mutt, the dog.

Mutt, the dog.

She took the kids.
I got the dog.

- It could do with a lick of paint.
- I know.

I planned a "Buffalo Mussels".
Western Shellfish.

But the banks chickened out.

What a shame.

Come on, this way.

My ex-brother-in-law is staying.
You're in the kids' room.

No problem.

Don't mention Sandrine
and the Fleming, he's touchy.

Franck, Willy.

Are you French Toast?

Yep.

I'm Franck Vrut

but call me Franck.

To fool the GISS.

The Secret Service.

They know we use aliases
so I use my real name.

So they don't know who I am.
Foxy, huh?

Right! I must finish grooming.

Franck.

A coffee?

Yeah.

Take my room if you like.
It's your call.

You're kidding.
This is fine.

The shower room...

- Body hygiene.
- What's this Secret Service stuff?

He's a political refugee.

What?

The only Belgian militating
for Wallonia to annex Flanders.

He thinks the Zwarte Loeuws
are gunning for him.

- The Zoarteleuz?
- The Black Lions.

Flemish terrorists.

He refuses to eat waterzooï,

he sings the Brabançonne nonstop.

I was with Carter for 2 years
and Reagan for 4.

Reagan was shot.

I was off duty.

So you were in the Secret Service?

Yep.

You protected the big boss?

I was with Carter for 2 years
and Reagan for 4.

Reagan was shot.

I was off duty.

Anything I can do, French Toast?

No. I don't want to bother you.

- Bodyguard?
- Yes. Seen it?

Have I seen it?

I first fell in love to...

The song is crap!

It's about Frank Farmer.

- Sure.
- He's my idol!

The day I saw him changed my life.
The Kinepolis, September 8, 1993.

The name triggered it off.

- What off?
- My dream! To be a bodyguard.

Frank Farmer, Franck Vrut.

It was meant. Fate.
You know?

Sure.

- I'm going to bed.
- Do it.

Hey, Will!

I'll keep watch.

Reagan was shot.

I was off duty.

Monsieur Vanderbrootch?

Vanderbrook.

This way, please.

The Anvers Hotel School?

A fine reputation.

Then you were head waiter
at the Mangus, Maître d'...

You speak Dutch?

My grandma is Flemish,

I spoke it as a child.

And German, our third language.

You don't have an accent.

Only when I lose my rag.

I hope that won't happen!

My mother is French,
I've lived abroad,

I feel I'm a world citizen.

Your first job as concierge
was at the Pierre?

Why New York?

The director spotted me
at a dinner at the Magnus.

New York was my dream.
I jumped at it.

- You were there...
- 3 years, like Tokyo.

Excellent.

Your profile is very interesting.

The others are too, of course.

But interesting.

Monsieur Vanderbrook.

How did it go this morning?

Extremely well.

Who's the lucky guy?

He's called Willy Vanderbrook.

A bit Belgian?

He's Belgian
but his mother is from Toulouse.

He must eat chips
with his casserole!

"The Paris Westin here.
So what's it about?"

"Hello?"

"Ne me quitte pas..."

Cool it, guys,
he speaks six languages.

Shame he can't speak French!

For once!

You're crass.

Are you really going to show
Detarnaud your Vankerbrot's CV?

I don't know...

If you do, I want to see him
meeting your cyclist.

Surprise!

It's not your fault.
They can't help it.

They can't take us seriously.

Even if you were
the King of the Belgians.

They'd grovel,
then sneer behind your back.

- You think so?
- Sure.

- But they'd grovel?
- Educated assholes.

They respect the crown.

I could arrive filthy,
they'd lick my muddy boots?

They certainly would.

They'd roll out the red carpet
for me?

Sure, if you were royalty.

I mean if I showed up a total mess,

stinking of beer,

they'd send the wine waiter over?

If you saw a drunk Emir in Dubai,

you wouldn't give him
a breathalyzer test.

You're dead right.

Maybe not.

Know something?

We should go there.

To Dubai? What the shit for?

Gentlemen.

A good table, I've been on safari
and I'm starving.

I'm sorry...

You're what?
My man, you better eat your words.

I didn't say anything.

Exactly!
Show some respect for the Prince.

The Prince?

Louis of the Belgians,

the Prince Royal.

Oh, of course.

A table for eight?

Nine!

I like stretching my feet
on a chair.

Yes. For nine.

Our immortal motto

The King, law and liberty

The King, law and liberty

The King, law and liberty

Long live the King!

Long live the Prince!

- To the Prince!
- Thank you.

Château White Horse 1966:

the legendary
premier Saint-Emilion Grand Cru

from Fourcaud Laussac,
an outstanding year.

The fruit rears up
but the woody base reins it in.

Sounds pretty.

Fleshy and muscular as a stallion,
it stands firm...

On its little hooves!

You said it's a white horse?

Absolutely, Your Highness.

So why is it red?

Just putting you on.

Your pony gallops well.

Another go on the roundabout?

Drinks all round!

Your health!

As you wish, Your Majesty.

Tell your manager and your chef

I'd be honoured by their visit.

- Right away.
- Thanks.

Happy bunny?

We can't pay for drinks.
Are you nuts?

Don't worry.

Come closer...

Closer?

You're a mental case!

Your Highness.

Daniel Detarnaud,
I'm the hotel manager.

We're very honoured.

May I present our renowned chef,
Michel Meriac.

Your Highness.

The creator
of this sensory celebration.

Thank you, Your Highness.

- Cook it yourself?
- For Your Highness, yes.

I recognize your touch.

A smashing moustache.

Thank you, Your Highness.

You know what the Germans say?

A kiss without a moustache
is like soup without salt.

You don't speak German?

Can't do everything, eh?

Take me:

I was a prick in biology.

Birds and bees, insects.
A real prick!

With all respect,

Your Highness
certainly wasn't a prick.

I was!
I never knew lobsters had hairs.

Racoons, yes.

But not lobsters.

I knew about the feelers,

not the hairs.

But Your Majesty,
lobsters don't have hairs.

Really?

So what's in my chamberlain's plate?

- Where?
- Here.

Impossible.

I've never been so humiliated
in my life!

Appalling service!
Your concierge is a lout

and your chef is a pig!

Forgive me, Your Highness.

I'll prepare our royal suite
for you immediately.

As our guest.

- My friends too?
- Naturally.

All my friends?

Your Highness...

I want to thank you for everything.

The pleasure was mine,
Mademoiselle...

Jessica.

Louis of Belgium.
Delighted.

Weren't you with your friends?

Yes...

but they're not such fun as yours.

Shall I grant you political asylum?

A drink, boss, we're thirsty!

A drink, boss, we're thirsty!

A beer, boss, we're thirsty!

We're thirsty!

We're thirsty!

When I was in the Foreign Legion

I crossed the desert every day

Come here...

I'm thirsty! So thirsty!

Some champagne!

- Like some?
- Yes.

For you...

Thank you.

We have a tradition here:
lovers share drinks.

Look, watch me.

Do it like this.

All the way!

I must tell you...

You're married?
With kids?

I'm not who you think I am.

Me neither.

Here's the story, prince.

I get 30,000 euros cash in 24 hours,

or else these photos of us both...

Here they are...

I like this one...

will hit the media.

What?

Find it funny?

Your jacket?

Willy Vanderbrook?

Born October 10, 1969,
in Molenbeek-Saint-Jean.

You see?

Fuck...

Oh fuck!

Stupid asshole.

Bunch of assholes!

Hello, love.

- You look tired.
- Quite a night.

- Rest up.
- How's Juliette?

Good.
She's back next week, I hope.

Give her my love.

I will. Bye.

Washington.

Happy?
Like something to eat?

The Westin is inviting
400 guests Saturday,

to celebrate the famous Parisian
Palace Hotel's 75th anniversary.

Star couturiers and jewellers
are busy-busy

for - to quote Forbes Mag -
this year's top social event.

The actresses and princesses
will wear Vuiret.

Tell me about it.

It's a very important event for us,

all the elite will be there

and our finest jewellery
will be worn.

An event like this

means displaying
our most precious jewels

in priceless settings!

- Thank you.
- My pleasure, Sandrine.

I'm General Patton!

- The door's open.
- On your feet, soldier!

Who are you?

Champagne, Your Highness?

- It's Jessica.
- Ah, Jessica.

I left a bit early.

Without congratulating you.

Very nice of you to come

but you could have phoned.

I want to be there.

Be where?

On your next scam.

There's no scam.
It was just some fun.

I know what you're planning.

- We're not. OK?
- You were on a recce?

- On a recce?
- C'mon, Franck.

You'll borrow jewellery
for the Westin gala

and then vanish.

Awesome. Not even robbery,
they give you the stuff.

Nice one, guys.

- Thanks, Madame.
- But...

There's a flaw in your plan.

Oh yeah?

They won't lend you jewels
without a princess.

Yes, I agree to become your wife,

Willy.

Right. That was fun.

We'll give Kiki back.

Game over.

The next day
we split 50/50 and ciao.

Sorry, no way.
Let's go.

- 60/40, my last word.
- See you soon.

We're closed.

But guys, we're onto a goldmine.

A million euros. Like that!

A million euros...

I'm a concierge,
Serge owns a bar,

Franck is...

Why should we steal jewels?

To change your lives!

So what do we risk?

Then we'll nick the Mona Lisa
from the Louvre!

Bust Fort Knock in the US!

Steal the magic potion
from Astérix Park!

Westin Hotel?
I'd like to speak to the manager,

Monsieur Detarnaud.

Thank you.

I don't know about Belgium,

but in France, usurping identity

gets you a 75,000 euro fine
and a 5 year sentence.

And that bar bill to pay...

On the house!

Château White Horse...

Drinks all round

Tasting menu

Champagne

Louis of Belgium...

Willy Vanderbrook?

Usurping identity

Wong ceramic

He can't hold it!

Carpet

On the throne, Willy!

Loo seat

Marble bust

Curtains

Paintwork

Damage

It could be costly.

- Hold on.
- Alright.

If you sell the bar

you might scrape the money up.

Maybe.

- Here he is.
- Monsieur Detarnaud.

I'm on!

I got it!

Right.
Where's my room?

Towels in the cupboard.

Your bathroom's here.

Thank you, Serge.

I'll shut the door.

- Thanks.
- You're welcome.

Want to tuck her up too?

We're business partners,
let's be nice.

Reassure me, Serge,

this scam is off.

That's not what you said.

There's a million euros in it.

I was bullshitting her.
Playing for time.

What do we do?

No idea.

She can get us locked up.

This bar is all I have.

If I lose it I'll have nothing.
Nothing.

You've landed us in deep shit,

that's the truth of it.

I'm sorry.

Everyone's sorry.

You won't lose custody of your kids!

You've already lost it.

Exactly.

This money may help me get it back.

Make my bar a Buffalo Mussels.

Buy a new car.

Buy Franck a Kalashnikov.

That's crap.

If we could do it once
we can do it twice.

But we don't even know the girl.

She trapped us, we'll find a way
to break free of her.

- Trust me, I'll find something.
- Start looking.

'Night, French Toast.

Yeah, good night.

She's not there.

You scared me.

- She won't bother us any more.
- What?

- What have you done?
- A joke!

She's shopping,
she said she'll be back.

Anyway, I didn't find anything.

Shit! What else did she say?

That I should buy some pyjamas.

She's out of it.

Fuck pyjamas!

Strength lies in unity

Closed until reopened

Right. It's exactly 22.25.

I slip the bag down the hatch.

Serge retrieves it downstairs

and hides it in locker 28
in the cloakroom.

I go out past
the unsuspecting security guard.

OK? Is that clear so far?

Fine, I'll start again.

Right.

It's exactly...

- 22.25!
- Good.

I slip the bag
down the laundry hatch...

Serge retrieves it downstairs

and hides it in locker...

- 28!
- In the cloakroom.

I go out past
the unsuspecting security guard.

Unsuspecting!

Serge gets the car,
Willy and Franck leave the ballroom.

I go down and collect the bag,

I leave as the laundry van
parks behind the hotel.

We meet at the car
that Serge parks here.

We go see my fence,
we split the takings.

End of story.

What do you think?

Like Ocean's Eleven
with George Clooney and Al Pacino!

- Andy Garcia, not Al Pacino.
- Sure?

Yeah, and neither up to Kevin.

I wasn't talking
about Kevin Costner, I said...

You know nothing!

So? You don't even have the DVD.

It'll never work.

- What won't?
- You!

Not credible as my wife.

Why not?
Not classy enough?

Not Belgian enough.

True!

"Not classee enough?"

In Belgian we'd say:
"not claaassy enough".

Claaassy.

Not "classee".

- But I don't talk like that!
- You do!

I'll talk with a Belgian accent.

Go on. We're listening.

We're risking a lot here.

If we go for it, we must trust you.

Go ahead. We're listening.

"I fancy some mussels with beer,

"with waterzooï and
like a stack of chips, for once."

How's that!

Nowhere near.

You have a long way to go.

My parents are mixed,
I use two accents.

I've been here 10 years,
so no accent.

You can teach me.

In six days?

God created the world in six days.

No one will believe
you're a Belgian princess!

Later. I have a date.

May we ask where?

No.

I thought we were a team.

A team who'll meet up in two hours.
Bye!

- So what do we do?
- Meaning?

- Follow her.
- Happy to.

Will, you take Marie Louise.

You take Allibert.
I'll go this way.

- Serge? Where are you?
- By the canal.

She's heading your way.

- See you on the square.
- I'll call you.

- Where is she?
- Dunno.

- You must know!
- No.

- Been taking a stroll?
- No.

- Well?
- He's lost her.

- She never arrived.
- But I saw her.

- Maybe she crossed a bridge.
- No way.

- Sure you didn't see her?
- Insinuating?

- I thought you were motivated.
- I am.

- Is that what's bugging you?
- Stop!

You're not professionals.

I know when someone is there
and someone isn't.

You must accept your limitations.

You're hopeless at tailing.

Full stop.

- That's rubbish.
- You're hopeless at tailing!

Never mind, I'll teach you.

Come on, follow me...
to Notre Dame.

- But you know I'm following you.
- Cut it out!

Forget it, Serge.

Willy wants to learn.

When you're tailing,
you identify.

You think like him
to anticipate his moves.

- Like when I tail him.
- You tail me?

Yes.

For training.
Now I can tail Willy.

- Tailing me for long?
- From the start.

Your Tuesday massages
at the "Saigon Delight".

"Little Poodle"!

OK! We'll tail you.

Count to 10, 20 or 30, then go!

See you later.

It's a proper massage salon.

The guy is dressed.
It's not...

Hey, Serge, no problem.

- Live your life.
- Yeah.

If I do or I don't, I'd tell you.

Of course.

One question:

just body-body
or an oral finish too?

Sorry.

You're exhausting.

Look!

He's into it.

Kevin Costner.

He can't see a thing!

- Costner is running.
- Wicked!

What's he doing?

Making progress!

I saw Serge on rue du Renard
and Arcolle Bridge. But Willy...

Sorry,
is there a tobacconist nearby?

No.

Help yourself.

Thanks.
But it's your last one.

- My pleasure.
- Very good of you.

Want a French kiss too?
I'm in a meeting.

Really?

Some guys have no limits!

Willy, I saw you once.
Not bad for a half-cast.

A half-cast?

Franco-Belgian.

You can be proud
of your 50% inner man!

I'm proud of you.

- Great.
- Well done.

Now we find the squaw and break her.

We've lost enough time as it is.

I can lend you my knife
to scalp her.

I got it.

From now on you're not Jessica.

Jessica is dead.

You're undercover.
Is that clear?

- Yes.
- Yes, sir!

Yes, sir.

You must shed your skin
like a snake.

Become Madeleine Marie Christine.
Princess Royal.

You are Madeleine Marie Christine,
Princess Royal.

Is that clear?

Yes, sir.

You grew up in Uccle
in the Brussels-Capital region.

It's your mother tongue.

Think Brussels, breathe Brussels!

Your trainer
is Captain Willy Vanderbrook.

He went
to the Brussels Hotel School,

he's in a league of his own.

Got it, Jessica?

- Yes, sir.
- No!

You're not Jessica!
You're Madeleine! Or you're dead!

And we're dead with you!

Concentrate, Jessica.

Good, Madeleine.

To become one of us,

you must learn about Belgian humour.

We take our humour very seriously.

You must laugh differently.

Forget all your parochial
French comedians!

Here we have François Pirette,
Marc Hermann, the great Jojo.

You know Jojo?
Of course not.

We call him Julius Caesar
No trousers, he's a teaser

Showing off his sexy legs
Hurrah!

A sexy-legged superstar!

All together now!

We call him Julius Caesar
No trousers, he's a teaser

Showing off his sexy legs
Hurrah!

A sexy-legged superstar!

Right.

You need us three to educate you.
Questions?

Action, soldier!

How do you turn this thing off?

Belgium is a lot more simple
than France.

No departments
or regional councils here.

Belgium is a federal state
composed of 3 independent regions:

the Flemish region,
the Walloon region...

and the Brussels-Capital region.

3 language communities: Flemish,
Wallonia-Brussels, and German.

Why 3 regions?

Because

the Flemish and Walloon conceptions
of federalisation differ.

The Flemish want cultural
independence for Dutch speakers.

The French speakers want
a socioeconomic policy in Wallonia,

Brussels has a majority
of French speakers

yet historically it's Flemish.

Simpler than France, no?

Now we'll do beers by towns.

Scission and separatism later.

Can I go to the loo?

To the toilet.

No, you can't.

Know why Belgians lick old walls?

- No.
- They're covered with chips.

You mustn't laugh!

What you laugh at doesn't make us
laugh, and vice versa.

No laughing.
Think of your inner Belgian.

I was a trainer in France.

Never compare Belgian
and French championships.

It's night and day, eh!

It's night and day, eh.

No good.
It's night and day, eh!

- It's night and day, eh!
- Better.

Know why Belgians play billiards
with paddles?

- No.
- For the pool.

- Sorry, you make me laugh.
- Sure!

Like I was funny!

How many nieces and nephews?

Four, five and three. Twelve.

They are?

Eléonore, Emmanuelle, Elizabeth,
Gabriel. They're Philippe's.

Not the right order but OK.

Astrid's daughters are?

Marie Laura and Lisa Marie.

No, Louisa Maria!

Saxe-Coburg, not Presley!

Hey, Madeleine?

Gimme the dishcloth, I made a mess.

Coming up.

You alright?

Yeah.

Good, Madeleine.
What's that called?

A wiper. Right?

Maybe not!

- Maybe? Or not?
- Neither.

- So it's not that?
- Maybe not.

Maybe not what?

- Cool down.
- You say maybe and not.

Yes, sure.

Stop or I'll smack you, Serge.

In Brussels
"Maybe not" means "Yes, sure".

Maybe not.

Have you found a job?

An internship.

Thank you.

North by the sea is Flanders,

Flemish goes like this,
he'll say to you:

"I'll get the brolly
as it's gonna piss down."

Repeat it.

"I'll get my brolly
as it's going to piss down."

A bit further south
you're in Brussels.

The French try in vain
to imitate the Belgians.

In Brussels the locals talk like me:

"Lordy! The neighbour's mutt
peed on the plants again!"

What?

"Lordy! The neighbour's mutt
peed on the plants again!"

"Lordy! The neighbour's mutt
peed on the plants again!"

Then further south you're in Uccle.

Uccle's like the Beverley Hills
of Brussels.

They try to be aristocrats
while they eat hot chips.

They talk like this,
stretching their necks:

"How absolutely super
to eat a couque one day."

"How absolutely super
to eat a couque one day."

"Absoolutely sooper."

"Absoolutely sooper."

Then even further south
you're in Liège.

They talk like this.

Like a Swiss who's been eating
wooffles all day

with a blocked up nose.

Like that.

- Like what?
- Wooffles.

- Wooffles?
- Wooffles!

- Waffles!
- That's it!

The "a" becomes an "o".

"I ate wooffles all afternoon."

Just a minute.

How does Madeleine talk?

She's from Brussels.
Convince me.

Brussels...

In Brussels they're a bit
like Parisians. They're snooty.

They drop Flemish words.

For instance,

you'd say for:

"Where did you put my bike, Willy?
In the van."

He'd say:
"Where ja put me bike? In van."

I'll hardly talk about my bike.

Look, I want to help you? OK?

The others aren't convinced.

If you don't make progress
you're on your own.

Come on, go for it!

Know how to spot a Belgian
in an orgy?

No.

He's fucking his wife.

Good.

Pick out the chico.

You're closer.

"I gave my mutt couques
in the rain."

"The Anderlecht club
has lost again."

- A beer?
- Maybe not!

She's not breaking down.

- She's motivated.
- She's up for it.

We need backup.
Call Walter and Stefan.

- You're sure?
- Dead sure.

Being Belgian
is a twinkle in your eye...

Like these little lines here.

Smiley lines, we smile nonstop.

It's a state of mind.

A Belgian is a bit...

you must concentrate.

Like a mollusc,
if he stops concentrating,

he loses his shape.

What's good is that

we're never taken hostage.

When they take hostages
on a plane,

they pick Americans or French,

never Belgians.

To define someone,

to say: "He's a Belgian,"

see if he can hold his drink.

A Belgian is a good drinker!

Sublime decadence
of the belly dance

Ministry of beer

Artery out of here

Place de Brouckere

She's a stayer.

Look out, Brussels, here I come

Searched her bag?

She keeps it on her,
even in the toilet.

It's for the mission!
I'm not finicky.

Neon lights, names of God

I see a drastic solution:

Rosetta, by the Dardenne Brothers.

I play it sometimes,
it always works.

I watched it 46 times,
never seen the end.

"Wait for me", not "look out".

What assholes!

- "Wait for me!"
- Shit!

Alright?

Fine.

It reminds me of so much...

Loved it.

- One last beer?
- If you like.

Blanche des Honelles?

When I mix cultures I adapt.

That is dumb!

Cheers!

Cheers!

Kampai, eh?

Yes!

You remember well!

Kampai, cheers!

Good night.

Good night.

Oyasumi!

- Oya umi!
- Oyasumi!

Oya Sumi.

Just body-body
or an oral finish too?

- Serge...
- Serge what?

I can't tuck her up,
but you can jabber away.

We just had a beer.

You've got the hots.

She simply asked if I'd like a beer.

You talk Japanese when you're horny.

But she isn't breaking down one bit.

Oyasumi, French Toast.

You're right.

It's time to get tough.

Your breath stinks like a druid's.

Hi guys.

Jessica, we must talk.

It's Jessica today?

I have to talk to you too.

We have 4 days to go,
it's hotting up...

Can you stop dunking?

- Why?
- It's disgusting.

- Ever tried it?
- No way.

- So how do you know?
- Drop it.

I never tried with a guy either,
not for me.

You should. It's great.

- She's frisky.
- Cut it out.

- We have work to do.
- He's right.

We must introduce Franck and Serge
to the Westin.

But first let's talk about you.

About me?

You're way off.

I'm ready and you know it.

Think so?

I remind Serge of his sister.

Hardly a reference.

Well, if you're so ready,

how about a little test?

Trying to bug me?

As you remind Serge of his sister,
you can be her.

Your bag was stolen,
you need new ID.

Your mission:
an official document.

- My name?
- Claudine Luyperts.

Born August 25, '78
in Schaerbeek.

Who are you?

Claudine Luyperts.
Born August 25, '78 in Schaerbeek.

Agent Luyperts. Your bag was stolen.

Don't let us down
now you're Belgian.

Go through it.

Isn't your test a bit easy?

Easy? Like shit.

- I don't think it's easy.
- I do.

If she makes it, she's good.

No harder than drinking a beer.

Hello, the Belgian Embassy?

She's nothing like your sister.

- So?
- So what?

- Well.
- Well what?

I'm reporting a suspicious person.

Security Dept. Thanks.

Why are you staring?

- I'm not.
- You are!

- I'm not.
- You are staring at me.

Just shut up!

Not you, Madame.

I'm talking to my children.

Forgotten your sister's face?

- Lay off her!
- You married her!

Big mistake. Bitch!

- My sister's a bitch?
- A fat bitch.

- Repeat it!
- Your sister's a bitch.

I'll gouge your eyes out!

Fucker!

I'll destroy you!

She left me for a Fleming!

Fuck!

She left with a Fleming.

It's not true?

She left me for a Flem!

- It's not true!
- He says so!

- What a bitch! It's a lie...
- But it's true!

Shit! Give me the bag.

Say it's not true!
My sister with a Fleming!

Tell me it's not true.

Bingo!

Cécile Morin.

Her real name.

I know my sister's name.

- Not your sister. Jessica.
- Her again.

- She's called Cécile.
- She lied?

Yes. Get it.

She's a bitch too.

Here she comes.

Jesus Christ...

What a bitch she is.

Rotten lies.
What's this?

I'm knackered.

It looks alright.

My bag.

See you, Captain.

Yeah.

See you.

Is he upstairs?

What time?

Midday is good.

I have to leave you.

Speak soon.

Cécile!

It's been ages.

Not in a rush to go home, Cécile?

I understand. Cécile.

OK.

You know my real name and address.

What does it change, Willy?

I'm not released on parole...

Cécile.

If you call the Westin,
we'll call

the police station,

Cécile Morin!

I didn't do anything.

The cops may not agree.

Bye-bye, Princess.

Willy, wait! It's a piece of cake.

Don't say you don't need the money.
Franck, Serge...

That's enough.

No, Willy.
Please, I need to do this.

Sorry but we don't.

- It's not for me.
- Oh yeah?

For who then?

Juliette.

Juliette?

My daughter.

Indeed.

- You have a daughter now?
- I do.

She's eight,
she only has me now...

C'mon, we're not interested.

- Since...
- What?

- An avalanche.
- An avalanche?

Let's go!

Her dad took her
off the ski run to see...

some baby goats.

A sheet of ice fell.

He was killed on the spot.

Ghastly...

It took the scouts 2 days
to find her.

A sledge dog saved her life.

Probably a husky.

Good dogs.

This is White Fang!

It was bitterly cold.

I thought I'd never see her again...

then the miracle...

The little husky dived into the snow
and came up with her tiny hat.

Good dogs, right.

And the kid
needs a heart transplant!

No, but her backbone was crushed.
She can't walk.

You see...

She's spent 2 years in hospital.

Only one man
can make her walk again.

A top American surgeon.

Professor...

- Professor Washington.
- George?

- With a wig?
- Willy! Stop!

That's enough.

- You can meet her if you like.
- You see!

She's over there.

Your daughter?

Isn't she beautiful?

I'll be right back.

I've come to see her.

Fine.

Hi, sweetie.

How are you?

Your mum said you'll be home soon.

Yes, they're taking the plaster off.

I can't wait, it itches.

Poor baby.
You've earned your first star.

Sure have.

How's Washington?

Not doing as well as you.

He's an old cat and...

he's got really bad flu.

Will he die?

I don't know.

Maybe.

I hope he'll be there for you.

You're sad, sweetie.

My poor sweetie.

Cry.

Go ahead, cry.

Poor kid.

I'm sorry I dragged you into this.

But I'm glad I met you.

You're good men.

I haven't met many.

I'm sorry I was so crass earlier on.

I deserved it.

Go on, beat it.

Goodbyes always make me cry.

Go now.

Please go.

Listen, Madeleine... Jessica...
Cécile.

Listen.

My wife left me,
my kids never call,

my bar is a ruin
and I badly need cash.

So I'm with you.

No wife, kids or bar
but I'm Belgian!

"Strength lies in unity!"

No.

C'mon, Willy.

No, it's baloney.

Count me out.

Thank you.

Yes?

Hotel Westin, HR director speaking.

- Monsieur Willy Vanderbrook?
- Yes.

I'm afraid your candidature
hasn't been accepted.

Very good. Thank you.

OK, so do we or don't we?

Maybe not!

16.30: nothing special.

Nothing...

special...

- Hello, Vuiret?
- Yes, Madame.

I'm calling about the Westin
75th anniversary gala.

I represent
the Belgian royal family.

Mathilde, I give you this ring,

as a token of our love and fidelity.

They exchange vows
before the whole country.

On this autumn day, 1999,

the radiant
Mathilde d'Udekem d'Acoz

becomes Princess of Belgium.

See that...

The way she... her bearing...

A joy soon to be shared by three.

Hand in hand,
the happy couple break the news.

"Unpack it"... Done.

"Now the batteries"...

Hello there!

I'm inquiring
about hiring a limo.

What?
Luxury, yes.

It's the price of a fighter plane.

Or there's this one.
Cheaper.

Popular for Chinese weddings.
But available this weekend.

Chinese?

Seen this?
That's for you.

- Amazing.
- You'll be stylish.

She's the goods.

French girls are special.

I'd rather
a ham and cheese sandwich.

Franck! The bag.

Coming!

- Got it!
- Well played!

Step on the gas!

The cook and his moustache...
Here.

The HR director here...

with his prick face.

Is it credible?

I can go past him as I'll be a maid.

Try to strangle me.

Don't change a thing.

Hello.

Jean-Yves Leterne,
Prince Louis's secretary.

And Frank Farmer,
royal security chief.

We'd like to inspect your hotel
before the gala.

I'll inform Monsieur Bertin.

- Yes, gentlemen?
- Hello.

Jean-Yves Leterne,
Prince Louis's secretary.

And Frank Farmer,
royal security chief.

We'd like to inspect your hotel
before the gala.

Finest nose in the kingdom.

He sniffs out explosives,
hash, cocaine.

I hope you don't have any.

I think not.
I hope not.

There's a TV crew on the 3rd floor.

What?!

What race is that?

Belgian shepherd.

I think he's found something.

He's never wrong.

It's a security issue.

Threats from Zwarte Loeuws,
the Black Lions.

Dangerous Flemish
independence fighters.

I'll taste the food on Saturday.

We can't take the risk of poisoning.

Our products are checked and traced.

So you know personally

the owner of the hair found
on my plate?

Where's the kitchen?

- This way.
- I'll follow you.

Take over.
I'm going to the toilet.

Alright.

It's there.

'Morning, Madame.

You must choose this.

The Atmosphere set.

OK. Great.

What's going on?

Nothing.

I know that look.

You blew it for me last time.

It will all go well.

Bring me these stones back
and your shit will be over.

Not that one.

Why not?

It's chipped.

It looks perfect.

But that bowl is...

Whose?

It's...

- It's Sandrine's bowl.
- His wife.

Franck is superstitious.

No ropes in a hanged man's house.
Or women in a cuckold's house.

Just a bowl
won't make me more cuckolded.

I made eggy bread, like some?

If you haven't mis-laid it.

You know, Serge...

- Not every guy is cuckolded.
- What?

His wife has to be desirable.

- True.
- My sister is gorgeous.

- Hi, everyone.
- Hi.

- Like some eggy bread?
- If you haven't mis-laid it.

I just said it.

- Coffee?
- If you haven't mislaid it!

Hot chocolate.

- You don't mix it in first?
- No, after.

With cordials too?

Yes, after.

And with a coffee sundae?

I never mix it.

I make a hole in the whipped cream.

"Petit Lu" biscuits?

The corners, then the edges.

M&M's?

The chocolate then the peanut.

You've never dunked in your life?

Never.

Incredible...

I knew it.

Get ready.

My turn now!

Who is she?

Garda. My grandma.

She's totally senile.

When my parents split up
she took me on.

She worked in a brasserie in Bruges.

I used to watch her cooking there.

It's off the wall.

2 double cougnolles for table 4!

Blind and deaf,
but remembers it all.

She's a genius.

The Stevie Wonder of cougnolles.

Careful, it's hot.

Awesome, huh?

Mind boggling!

We'll take Juliette
one in a Tupperware.

There's a crumb.

- A what?
- A crumb.

Like the cougnolles?

Yummy!

Watch out: hot!

- See you later.
- See you tonight.

Franck, pull up.

What?

Stop!

Excuse me.

I'm looking
for little Juliette Morin.

Sorry, I can't help you.

- Thanks.
- Goodbye.

Juliette!

You're walking!
It's miraculous!

I'm Willy, a friend of your mum's.

With some cougnolles!

Mum, he's a friend of yours.

No, he isn't.

Hello, can I help you?

Excuse me.

Do you know him?

- Where were you?
- She's bullshitting us!

- Her daughter isn't her daughter!
- What?

- Decoys!
- She's playing with us or not?

She's a traitress!

You said playing with us?

Using us as bait!

We're decoys, like bait!

Frankly, no!

Shit, she's a bitch!
She's double crossing us.

I see.

She takes us for dickheads.

Got it.
So what do we do?

- Quit?
- No, we keep going.

The joke will be on her.
And she won't find it funny.

Spoken like a true Vanderbrook.

It's my inner Belgian.

He's woken up and he's not happy.

That's my French Toast!

Your Highness!

Thank you!

Your Highness,
Vuiret is waiting in your suite.

I'm coming.

Here, a little surprise
for my husband.

Not a word.

Your Highness.

I can't decide...

That one maybe?

A perfect choice, Your Highness.

The Atmosphere set:
Golconda diamonds,

briolettes in a platinum setting,
very delicate.

Martine, please.

You'll see.

It sits well around the neck,
remarkably delicate.

I'll show you...

Isn't it beautiful?

Your Highness has a remarkable eye.

Thank you.
You're flattering me.

He's not, Madeleine.

He's quite right.

Your eye is remarkable.

Your mouth is remarkable.

Even your ears are remarkable.

And such tiny feet.

Remarkable!

Louis, this gentleman
has understood.

Even lovelier when she's angry.

I remember our first night together.

She flared up,

like a gazelle, like an amazon!

She slammed the door,
I was devastated.

I thought I'd lost her but...

Madeleine is back

My heart, beat slow
Pretend you don't know

Madeleine is back

My heart keeps repeating

She's more beautiful than ever

Now Madeleine's back

Excuse him.

My heart, stop pounding
Remember she broke you

Now Madeleine's back

My heart, stop pounding...

- Are you drunk?
- Yes! Drunk with love.

It struck like lightening
at the hospital.

- Not now, Willy.
- We'll save your daughter!

I see her running
on Knokke-le-Zoute beach.

Please, Willy.
What you say is very touching.

But we have to stay focused now,
you know?

After this scam I'll marry you.

I feel invincible.

Invincible!

Let's get changed.

You French
think you invented cookery.

- Pepper!
- Who invented the food-mill?

I don't know.

Victor Simon, a Belgian.

And forceps?

They're not cookery.

Easy on the colours.

A calf is extracted from a cow
before it's veal.

True or false?

- No dark glasses?
- No.

- Why not?
- Because.

- They hide our eyes.
- I want people to see my eyes.

If a dude approaches the Prince,

he'll see my eyes and piss himself.

You know why?

He'll see in my eyes
that I'll smash his knees.

Then I'll kick his face in:
"Take that, motherfucker!"

I'll chop his ears off!

And while he vomits

I'll cut his balls off.

And I'll tell him:

"Not when I'm on duty, OK?

"Not when I'm on duty."

I'll finish with my secret weapon:

an elbow jab to the belly!

No, I don't wear dark glasses.

Know how a Frenchman suicides?

No.

He fires above his head:
his superiority complex.

Antoine! That's not cooked!

We'll keep a low profile.

The Marquis and Marquise
de la Mijonnière.

Prince Louis of Belgium,
Duke of Brussels, Prince Royal.

And his wife, Princess Madeleine.

Admiral and Madame
Guillaume Arty de Pierrebourg.

5 minutes then we beat it.

Yep.

Monsieur Bern.

- Shit!
- What?

- We're out of here!
- Why?

Hurry! Please!

Your Highness,
I'm delighted to meet you.

Princess, you're radiant.

I don't remember meeting you
at Laeken Château?

It's that diet, Louis!
You're unrecognisable.

I claim to be an expert

on the House of Saxe-Coburg:

How are you related
to Prince Philippe

and Prince Laurent?

You're teasing us!

There's no Duchy of Brussels.

There's a sprout.

There damn well must be a duke!

You're a usurper!

How dare you?

No, Stéphane, we'll explain.
It's a joke.

It's beyond a joke.
I'll call security.

No, Stéphane!

What's he doing?

It's under control.

Security. I'm on the case.

I hate being touched.

It's not him.

Since I was a toddler...

My God, Louis.

I must freshen up.

- See you in a minute, my love.
- Yes.

Excuse me.

He's not a prince...

And the chef replied:
"Mozart-arella!"

Know how to save
a drowning Frenchman?

- No.
- Good!

Taste what you like.

But if I hear your voice again,
you'll need ice.

Why? A French speciality?

Pick up the phone, moron.

She's gone out?

- Not yet.
- What's she up to?

Pick up the phone!

Zidane! Try me!

Hold it.

You're lucky.

Real lucky.

Fuck off, asshole!

Where were you?

Diversion!

How's it going, guys?

You're wanted in Room 209,

Céline Dion
has creased the curtains.

Go to it!

- 'Evening.
- 'Evening, Madame.

Go on! I'm watching!

Or you go back to the Congo!

Get out...

We're out of here!

Friends, I want to thank you all
for being here.

Come closer!

As you know,

the Westin is celebrating

its 75th Anniversary tonight.

And as luck would have it,
with Your Highness,

one of our greatest friends.

He wants to keep it quiet,

but fortunately his beloved wife

has disobeyed him.

Let's all applaud
Prince Louis of Belgium!

My limo, my good man.

Julien, please.

Princess?

Are you alright?

Happy Birthday!

Your Highness, if I may...

Happy Birthday, Your Highness.

But tell me, what's that medal?

The Order of Asimbonanga.

And the one next to it?

The El Condor Pasa Cross.

I'm jealous.

- A gift.
- A gift?

Prince.

I can't find your wife.

You lost her after two minutes?

She must be outside.
Keep looking, man!

Follow me. Come on!

Run for it!

Prince Philippe Léopold Louis
of Belgium,

Prince of Belgium, Duke of Brabant,
and his wife

Mathilde Marie Christine
d'Udekem d'Acoz!

Vanderbrook!
What are you doing here?

Any news of my interview?

- Didn't my assistant call?
- Yes.

Changed your mind?

No!

Too bad.
But don't hesitate to contact me.

- Where are the jewels?
- In your guy's bag.

Brahim.

This bag?

Yes.

What is this shit?

Cougnolles!

She came back to save me.

But she got us into this shit,
remember!

Yes. But she came back.

We can contact Dr Washington
directly.

Willy, she might turn us in.

We must stay out of this!

- She'll go back to jail.
- So what?

What can we do about it?

I don't know.

Maybe he's on Facebook.

- Who?
- Washington.

We don't give a shit
about Dr Washington!

You're so selfish.

Now we've made it, we dump her?

We can save her with the jewels.
You rat!

You're not worthy of that uniform!

You're right.

About turn.

- What?
- About turn!

You're not the Prince...

Monsieur Detarnaud, Monsieur Vuiret.

Agent Luyperts.

Sorry to be late
but we were tailing a suspect.

We've foiled their plot
and found their hideout.

Whose hideout?

The Zwarte Loeuws.

The Black Lions.
Flemish terrorists.

Who's he talking about?

Didn't you tell them?

I'm sorry, Captain, but...

- Without further instructions, I...
- Stuck to procedure?

And remained undercover?

- Yes.
- You did right.

We're the GISSAT.

- What?
- The AT Secret Service.

- AT?
- Anti Terrorist.

We didn't inform you
as there's a mole amongst you.

You mean Stéphane Bern?

Yes.

Like Scientologists,
the Black Lions love celebs.

- I'm stunned.
- King Baudouin said:

"Paint a garden gnome blue,
he'll pass for a Smurf."

- Right?
- Dead right.

Your Smurfs and Black Lions
are fascinating,

really, but where are the diamonds?

Alpha Tango. Over.

We have the green light, sir.

With the compliments

of the Belgian royal family.

They're our stones.

Excellent.

Madame.

Gentlemen.

- We must...
- Be on our way...

Juliette has a new dad now.

How are the lovebirds?

THE BELGIAN JOB

First training course

Welcome to the Belgiattitude world!

Belgiattitude is a must have
in the global work place.

Courtesy, efficiency.

Today, Belgian means you're wanted.

It sets you way ahead.

All happy with their new life.

You have to learn

to think Belgian,

breathe Belgian,

drink Belgian, eat Belgian.
Is that clear?

- Yes, Ma'am!
- Again!

Yes, Ma'am!

Beer I prefer always to wine.

Beer I prefer always to wine.

The Belgium label guarantees
you're a professional Belgian,

a Belgian celeb,

a Belgian lover

for life.

A continuous training.

"Watcha, Belgium,
here comes trouble!"

"Watcha, Belgium,
here comes trouble!"

The King, law and liberty

Take that on board,

or you'll always
be cheap Frenchies.

Yes, Franck.

- Yes who?
- Yes, Franck.

You too.
Don't settle for being French.

Join the Belgium Institute

and awaken your inner Belgian!

Maybe not!

Awaken your inner Belgian!

Subtitles: Charlotte Trench