Laughter (2020) - full transcript
As a civil war shakes the Quebec province of Canada, Valerie is the sole survivor of a mass execution where her boyfriend is killed. Years later, she's in a close relationship with her new partner, Gabriel. At the Long Term Care Center where she works as an orderly, she befriends Jeanne, an erudite and funny woman, dealing with an important physical handicap. Mixing realism and worrying strangeness, Le Rire presents a humane exploration of the survivor's syndrome, the grieving process, the distance of time, the power of love, and the joy of being alive.
No.
It can't be it, no.
Not now.
It was all for nothing.
- Mom...
- It's fucking bullshit!
- Stop. Calm down.
- Shut up.
I don't give a shit about you.
Don't tell me to calm down. Shut up.
You're not my daughter.
You never have been. You're nothing.
- I don't wanna die!
- Mom...
It was all for nothing.
It's bullshit!
I'm all alone.
- I'm here, Mom.
- No! I'm all alone.
It can't end like this. Shit!
Please stop. Let yourself go.
I don't want to.
I'm still here.
It's not over.
I don't want to?
I don't want to die.
I'm still here.
LAUGHTER
Move!
Come on, move it.
THEN
Faster.
Come on!
Give your bag.
Move it!
Come on, hurry up.
Empty your pockets.
Keep moving.
Let's go!
Take everything off.
Keep going, take off your clothes.
Stay with your group!
Fire!
Come on, move.
Stop!
OK, girls, out!
Let's go.
Lie down! On your stomachs.
Everybody, lie down!
Aim!
It's gonna be fine.
Fire!
Go ahead, girls.
Let's go.
Lie down!
Everybody down!
God, I beg you.
I'm begging you, don't abandon us now.
- Don't abandon us, God.
- Aim!
Fire!
NOW
It's not sexy at all!
Come on, I'm oozing sex!
Check this out.
No, it's gross.
What do you mean, "gross"?
Look at my hips!
Your hips aren't the problem, Gab.
It's your face.
- What's wrong with my face?
- It's ugly.
No way. You call this ugly?
Well...
You look like a horny anteater.
A horny anteater?
Is that supposed to be a compliment?
No, it's not.
Fine. I'll never dance again.
- Oh God! Poor Gab.
- It's over! That's all you're gonna get.
Leave it.
We can do that tomorrow.
What time do you get up tomorrow?
6:00.
Another dance?
I knew you liked it.
Oh, sure.
My turn!
It's gonna be fine.
I'm begging you.
Do something.
God, please.
Seriously. It couldn't wait?
Have a seat.
What's going on?
You OK?
What's wrong?
Something happened this morning.
I don't know what exactly.
I've never experienced anything like it.
It was like a dream,
but I was completely awake,
completely lucid.
Would you say you know me well?
I hope so.
We've known each other 15 years.
Who am I? Define me.
Why are you asking me this?
You're you.
You're hardworking, smart, ambitious...
Am I funny?
Funny?
I don't know.
Yeah, you're funny.
You're not the funniest person ever,
but you have a good sense of humor.
What's the funniest thing
I've ever said to you?
I don't know!
Why are you asking me this?
What happened this morning?
I went to the restroom to wash my hands,
like I do every morning.
Everything was normal.
I wasn't feeling any different.
I stepped into the restroom,
turned on the light
and walked up to the sink.
It was like any other day.
I wasn't even thinking about it.
My mind was already on
my afternoon meeting.
But then...
Then what?
I felt something.
Something was off.
Everything was different somehow.
Everything felt wrong.
I went numb.
My legs especially.
I could hardly feel them.
I felt like I was gonna faint.
I didn't know what was happening.
It was like I was in the wrong place.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror.
It wasn't me.
It wasn't my reflection.
I wasn't looking at myself.
It was someone else.
Who?
I don't know.
Someone I'd never seen before.
It was an old lady
sitting in a wheelchair.
The space was different.
It wasn't my restroom in the mirror.
It looked like a hospital restroom.
Maybe it was just...
some kind of hallucination.
No, I wasn't hallucinating.
I wasn't dreaming.
I'm sure of it, because...
that old lady was...
It was me.
What do you mean, "you"?
Like you, older?
No. It was me.
It was me now.
When I saw her...
I suddenly realized
that everything was fake.
When I saw her,
when I became her,
I had never felt more alive
than I did at that moment.
It's like I was waking up.
It's like the dream wasn't
what I saw in the mirror.
It was me.
Me in my restroom.
Like my whole life had been a dream.
I was lucid for the first time.
It's as if I suddenly realized
I was living the wrong life.
The real me was that woman
in the mirror.
And I had never felt so good, so alive.
I was an old woman
in a wheelchair in a hospital,
but I felt good.
I felt like laughing.
It was like a giant weight
had been lifted.
For the first time, I felt like myself.
Like the lying was over.
All right. Let's have a look
at that restroom.
Do you see anything?
Hello?
OK, get out of there.
Yes. I'm ready.
OK, let's go.
Hello, Ms. Breault! You doing OK?
So, what's up with you now?
I just did a big poo!
A big poo! Well, that's very good.
Let's change that diaper
and get you all cleaned up!
How wonderful!
Did you bring my Disney stickers too?
Or is it normal for you to talk like
a dumb kindergarten teacher?
Well, I guess we'll let
Ms. Breault stew in her shit
while she thinks about what she said.
Go tell the Care Bears that
a mean old lady ruined your rainbow!
Come on.
I can't stand that one.
Well, it's kind of your fault.
Really, how?
You shouldn't have shit yourself
during my break.
You're always on break.
And you're always full of shit!
Careful.
Let's lift your legs.
Roll onto your side.
Could you please stop shaking?
It's annoying.
I can't help it.
I'm still shaken
by what the candy-unicorn orderly said.
Did you really need to call her "dumb"?
She'll get over it.
She'll go home,
talk to her cats,
then masturbate to her well-worn copy
of Fifty Shades of Grey.
She'll fall asleep
with a smile on her face.
Such cruelty!
What are you reading?
Pascal Quignard. He's a bastard.
Why?
He writes too damn well.
On your back.
You OK?
Yes.
It's music day today.
Should I ask someone to come get you?
You do that, I swear I'll kill you.
How come?
I didn't like Gignac or Trenet
when I was 30.
I don't want to listen to some
off-key crooner covering them today.
No, apparently,
it's an Iron Maiden cover band.
There's gonna be a mosh pit.
You guys are gonna have fun
popping all those hips back into place.
Yep!
OK. You comfortable?
Yes, thank you.
Time to go beddy-bye!
Right, Ms. Breault?
Want me to read you a bedtime story?
Yes.
Tell me about the Acadian Expulsion
from an ethnological perspective.
Sorry. I don't know that one
'cause there's no Prince Charming.
All right.
Good night, Jeanne.
Good night. Thank you.
You're welcome.
Did she calm down a bit?
She was very calm.
- Is that for the woman in Room 14?
- Yeah, I was on my way there.
Don't worry, I'll go.
Thanks.
Ma'am?
You should eat something.
You'll feel better.
I brought you a new plate.
You can't.
I know who you are.
You can't.
I'm tired.
It's morning! Hello!
It's gonna be a beautiful day!
Fuck off.
Damn. I shouldn't have done that.
I'm blinded.
Serves you right.
I love you so much.
You're so energetic and full of life.
Big night?
It was OK. I'm just beat.
I don't know why.
I'll let you sleep.
NOW OPEN!
$8 please.
- Thanks.
- Bye.
Hello!
Hello. Two baguettes.
OK.
$5.
- Thank you.
- Thank you.
Hello.
Hello.
One baguette.
No, it's fine. I have my...
How much?
$2.50.
Thank you.
Hello, Jeanne.
Hello, Alice.
How are you?
I'm good, you?
My son came to see me this morning.
I think he wishes I was dead.
Well, he'll have to be patient.
How's your daughter?
Good. She visited yesterday.
She's doing great.
My son, not so much.
He had a hard time after the war.
Him and his wife
have a lot on their plate.
They have a family.
I think he wishes I was dead.
You're still here, Alice.
But I only threw up
twice this morning.
Usually, it's three times.
I think I'm getting better.
Well, that's good news, isn't it?
Why are we the ones
who are still here, Jeanne?
Why not?
Everything water-based rots, Jeanne.
Everything rots.
My brother had a heart attack at 34.
His daughter was 5 years old.
He died in front of her.
He's been rotting for 40 years, Jeanne.
Why aren't we made of stone?
Why did I only throw up twice?
Why, my little God... Behind...
Did you know, Jeanne?
Everyone hallucinates
that there's someone behind them.
Did you know that?
No, I didn't.
Sometimes, we think...
Our instinct makes us think
there's someone there to protect us
in case there really is someone there.
I have two sisters too.
They're all dead.
There's a presence behind us.
We feel a presence there,
when really, there's no one.
And what if that was it, my God?
My God! What if that was it?
What if there's nothing else?
What if there's no one there?
Why aren't we made of stone?
Is my little God
just an illusion of menace?
And if my brother, my sisters,
my niece and everyone else behind me
weren't really there...
My son wishes I was dead.
Why?why...
Why did I only throw up twice?
You're going to be fine, Alice.
Yeah.
Why don't you tell me a joke?
This one's kind of dumb,
but it makes me laugh.
OK.
Why did the carnival mascot
have bad breath?
I don't know.
Because he farted in his costume.
Ah, good one.
Thanks. That helps.
I think I'll go try to throw up a bit.
You can stay if you want.
No, I'll go.
Thanks again for the joke.
No problem.
I think he wishes I was dead.
There's nothing wrong with
your restroom. Everything's normal.
OK.
- You OK?
- Sure.
Can I have a piece of bread?
I didn't have lunch.
Take the whole thing.
Thanks!
OK, I'm out.
I shouldn't even be here.
Plus, I have a date. Ciao.
Bye.
Ma'am?
Are you OK, ma'am?
I'm a healthcare worker.
Maybe I can help.
You're sweet,
but we're just practicing.
It's not even a real baby.
Now we have to start over!
It's fine. We just left.
Careful. It's green.
Have a good day!
- All done, ma'am?
- Yes.
All right.
I'm taking my break.
Can I come chill with you?
Sorry, the Chamber of Commerce
is having its annual meeting
next to my bed.
They'll be lost without me.
- You're so important.
- Yes.
When your food is cut into little pieces,
you're unstoppable!
- Did you finish the Quignard book?
- Yes, this morning.
Wow, you remembered his name.
And they say young people
are losing touch with concrete things.
I'm confronted with concrete things
every time I change your diaper, Jeanne.
Good. I'm glad I'm giving you
a dose of reality.
It'd be great if that dose of reality
didn't smell like old squash.
Did you underline some good passages?
Yes. The book is right there. Take it.
Here.
Read this.
"Apoptosis of the leaves of a tree.
"Not falling,
but carried away by the wind."
Do you know what "apoptosis" means?
Yes. Oh yeah.
I had it once,
but my doctor gave me pills,
and it cleared right up.
I didn't know either.
I looked it up in the dictionary.
It's programmed cell death.
It's the process by which human cells,
when they receive a signal,
self-destruct to make way for new cells.
Really?
Yep. Interesting, isn't it?
The cells in our body
are ready to self-destruct.
All it takes is a signal.
Like the leaves on a tree.
All it takes is a gust of wind.
Isn't that beautiful?
That bastard can really write.
It is beautiful.
How's Mr. Hénault?
Since his fall, not so good.
He's not moving.
He's in a lot of pain.
It's like he's letting himself go.
That's too bad.
Did you know he's not from Montreal?
- He's from Drummondville, right?
- Victoriaville.
Victoriaville!
He fixed TVs his whole life.
That was his job.
Did you know his wife almost died
when he was young?
No?
The doctors were at a loss.
They told him
she probably wouldn't make it.
So one afternoon, he got in his car,
found a babysitter for his kids,
drove two hours to Montreal
and climbed the holy steps
at Saint Joseph's Oratory on his knees
to ask God to save his wife.
Really?
Yes. She survived.
Years later, their daughter had a child
with a chronic disease.
Someone had to
take care of him every day.
So Mr. Hénault and his wife
left Victoriaville.
They sold their house
and got an apartment near their daughter
to take care of their grandson.
Even though they both hate Montreal.
If ever you get the chance to meet them,
his daughter and grandson visit often.
The grandson is around 15 now.
His daughter tells me
he's doing much better.
Mrs. Hénault visits every day.
She's in top shape.
I don't think God
had anything to do with that.
But goodness did.
Goodness surely had
something to do with it.
One of his sons visits often too.
You should check him out.
He has a nice ass.
Jonathan Swift?
I don't want to marry him.
I just said he has a nice ass.
Where are they?
Don't you have a copy somewhere?
Over there.
I keep them close.
Jonathan Swift:
"Resolutions When I Come to Be Old."
Hey, he wrote this in 1699.
He was 32.
"Not to marry a young woman."
Or in your case, a young man.
I never said I wanted to marry him!
"Not to keep young company
unless they really desire it."
Do you desire my company?
I don't know.
I'll think about it.
"Not to be peevish or morose,
or suspicious."
Yeah, OK.
I'll give you that one.
"Not to scorn present ways, or wits,
"or fashions, or men, or war, etc."
I'm OK there. I scorn the present
just as much as I did when I was young.
It's true.
You're very consistent in your scorn.
"Not to be fond of children."
That's my favorite one!
"Not to neglect decency or cleanliness
for fear of falling into nastiness."
I think we'll stop right there, Jeanne!
Unfair! This is psychological abuse!
Are you gonna file a complaint?
Yes.
Do you want me to sing you
a nursery rhyme instead?
No, I'm fine.
If you're abused and you know it,
stomp your feet!
See, you're not abused!
Are you OK?
I understand.
Here.
Val?
Yeah?
Could you come here, please?
Yeah, coming.
Sorry. Did I wake you?
No.
Are you OK?
What is she doing there?
I don't know.
Ma'am?
What are you doing here?
Ma'am?
You shouldn't be here.
I can be anywhere I want!
Gab?
What is it, Gab?
Are you all right?
Yeah.
You OK?
Yeah, I'm fine.
I'm gonna get some water.
I'll get it.
Thanks.
You were making yourself a snack?
Yeah, I was hungry.
Do you know who that was?
I think she's from the residence.
She's a patient?
I don't know.
I don't know her.
She was there before I was.
All I know is we're not to bother her, and
we bring her meals three times a day.
What happened?
I don't know.
I woke up because I heard
someone crying.
I thought it was in my dream.
I dreamt I was on a plane,
and I was looking out the window.
We were flying over Montreal.
I could see...
I could see our neighborhood
and the church rising above the buildings.
And I really wanted to
find our apartment.
But I couldn't. I don't know why.
Every time I came close,
I realized it was the wrong spot.
It was like the streets had shifted,
and I had to start over.
But I really wanted to find it.
I was obsessed.
That's when I heard someone crying
on the plane.
I turned and realized
it was the person next to me.
I was sure I'd seen him before,
but I couldn't remember where.
That's when I woke up and realized
there really was someone crying.
Did you talk to her?
No.
When I realized she was there,
I turned on the light
to see what was going on.
And when I saw her...
I couldn't do anything.
I didn't know if I should help her
or ask her what she was doing there.
But I couldn't.
I froze.
All I could do was watch her cry.
I couldn't even move.
Even though she was in my room,
it was like...
It was like I didn't want to bother her.
Then all of a sudden, I felt like
I was the one who shouldn't be there.
Like I was the intruder.
I was in my bed,
but I had no right to be there.
I was so scared.
I just wanted to stay there.
I wanted to keep my place.
I want to keep my life.
I like my life.
I may not have the right to be here,
but I don't want to lose it.
That's all I could do.
Just stay... stay there and watch her.
She wouldn't stop crying.
I stayed there and watched her cry
for I don't know how long.
I didn't want to move.
I don't... I don't want her
to take my place.
I'm not an intruder! OK?
I could have gotten my degree, but
things don't always work out that way.
Sometimes, you've got to live!
We often feel like we're not
living fully, don't we?
It's like every time we make a choice,
we're giving up a thousand other things.
It's weird, huh?
It's like every time we choose a path,
all the other ones disappear,
as if life was just
a series of missed opportunities.
It's strange, isn't it?
It's like we're not
committed to our lives.
We see it as a limitation,
like we're just eliminating possibilities.
I'm sorry.
I'm deep in thought today.
It doesn't happen often.
Don't worry.
But if that's my biggest flaw,
it's not so bad, right?
I think it's because...
I feel comfortable
sitting here talking to you.
Not everyone would say that.
But who cares about them?
Go ahead. Have another one.
Don't be shy.
Ma'am?
What were you doing
in my apartment?
Ma'am, I know it was you last night.
What were you doing there?
You're gonna stop blubbering like an idiot
and answer me.
You're not a good person.
What?
Listen to me.
What's your problem?
What's your fucking problem?
Valérie, what's gotten into you?
Jesus, Val,
what were you thinking?
I can't take it anymore.
Excuse me?
I can't... I just can't.
What do you think you're doing?
Did I give you permission to talk?
That's not what you're here for.
You're not supposed to feel anything
unless I tell you to.
I didn't tell you anything.
I won't tell you anything.
I'm the one that's hurting.
You're nothing.
No one cares that you even exist.
Do what you're here to do,
and that's it.
No one cares what you think.
Just shut your mouth and work.
Do you really think
you're interesting?
Do you really think
you're worth knowing?
Look at yourself.
You're completely inconsequential.
You're not here to talk.
You're just a tool.
You're not here to feel.
You're not here to speak.
You're here to be used!
But what about my life?
You should be ashamed of yourself,
you dirty, useless mongrel.
My son wishes I was dead.
My brother had a heart attack at 34.
You maggot.
My son wishes I was dead!
Stop crying and get up!
Get up! Get up and keep going.
Why aren't you getting up?
You coward.
Come in.
Shut the door behind you, please.
Have a seat.
This is the first time we meet
in a disciplinary context, isn't it?
- Yes.
- Let's hope it's the last.
- Do you always bike to work?
- Yes.
Good. That's a healthy habit.
Now let's move on to more
serious matters.
First, I'd like to discuss
the notion of precedent,
an important notion in all organizations,
but especially in residences like ours,
where the human factor
is a major consideration.
Much like jurisprudence can significantly
impact the outcome of a legal case,
precedent in an organization
can quickly cause an imbalance
in employee management
and create dissatisfaction,
grievances and even deadly riots.
And don't think I'm exaggerating.
A deadly riot followed
a poorly managed precedent
in a Swedish factory in April, 1973.
That being said, management
must take appropriate measures
following your actions
in Room 14 yesterday.
Failure to take action
would create a precedent
that could destroy the sense of balance
our organization has strived to maintain
since our last optimization phase.
Of course, we're all human,
but we'll leave that topic aside for now.
What happened in Room 14
is unacceptable
according to the code of conduct
our employees must respect.
You signed and acknowledged
this code of conduct
when you were hired
on June 16, 2014,
and the amendments
made on November 22, 2014,
January 31, 2015,
March 6 and September 23, 2016,
April 8, 2017,
November 18 and February 6, 2018.
You are therefore bound
by this code of conduct.
To summarize the incident,
confirmed by two of your colleagues,
an acceptable number of witnesses
according to our organization,
you accosted a patient
of this establishment,
forcefully grabbing her arm
until your colleagues intervened.
You also yelled at the patient,
using the words:
"What's your fucking problem?"
This type of language is prohibited
by our code of conduct,
which, I'll remind you,
you signed on the aforementioned dates.
Your conduct may have been prompted
by personal issues.
However, these issues should not
alter your judgment
to the point of committing such an act.
Everyone is entitled
to their personal life,
to their own little bubble
of happiness or sadness, so to speak.
We must not forget
that the search for happiness
is central to mankind.
I personally find happiness
through reading detective novels
and making homemade pasta,
for example.
However, I shouldn't
subject my colleagues to any outbursts
if my cannelloni didn't turn out
the night before.
Of course, this is just an example,
but I'm sure you can grasp
the deeper meaning behind it.
That said, we take this
type of incident very seriously.
We are therefore obligated
to take disciplinary measures.
Of course, if you are currently
suffering from depression
or experiencing psychological distress,
please don't hesitate
to talk to me about it.
I can refer you to
the appropriate resources
to help you overcome your problems
and optimize your conduct
in the workplace.
In "director of human resources,"
there is the word "human" after all.
As per the terms
of our collective agreement,
and because this is your first offense,
I am now issuing you a verbal warning.
You've been warned.
I urge you to take measures to ensure
such an incident does not happen again.
I'll ask you to date and sign
this document summarizing the warning.
This second copy is yours to keep.
That will be all on our end.
Is there anything you'd like to add?
No.
Very well.
You may go back to work.
Remember, you're a valued part
of our organization.
You scored highly at your evaluations,
and we hope you'll be with us
for a long time.
I hope that we have a nice fall
so you can continue to bike to work.
- Thank you.
- Goodbye.
Goodbye.
Hello.
Hey.
Careful where you sit.
I shit in that bed.
Sorry.
What are you reading?
Flora Balzano.
Another bastard?
A damn bastard.
What's up with you?
Apart from basking in the glory of life...
Nothing.
What did you do during the war?
Not much.
Even if it was a while ago,
I was already an old geezer.
It's a strange concept, isn't it?
Everyone goes in one direction,
and most people follow.
And even if you know
they're going in the wrong direction,
you don't dare say anything,
because you're just trying to
keep your head above water.
You realize that everything
you used to think was insane and absurd
is slowly becoming accepted as normal,
and you have to treat it
like anything else in life.
And in this new reality,
things that are even more insane
and more absurd creep up on you.
You try to stop it,
but you forget that everything
you found insane and absurd
just a few years ago,
is accepted by everyone now.
It's like a cloud that expands so slowly
that everyone says:
"No, it's always been that size."
And you never realize that
you can't see the sun anymore.
War must have hit you hard, huh?
Yeah.
What did you do? Hide?
No, I was the luckiest girl in the world.
How so?
My boyfriend and I were taken
to the forest in September.
It was one bullet per person, no more.
They were worried about
running out of ammunition.
The soldier who shot me missed.
Samuel died,
and then it just kept going.
I don't know how I managed
to keep breathing.
When everything went quiet,
I decided to wait half an hour
before trying to get out.
But I don't think
I even made it to 20 minutes.
I was really lucky
no one was there when I climbed out.
It was calm.
It was all over.
It was like nothing had happened.
I don't like telling that story,
'cause nobody looks at me
the same after.
Why are you telling me now?
Last week, a new bakery
opened up near my apartment.
I went to check it out.
It's a perfectly normal bakery, but...
The owner,
or the man serving people, anyway...
I recognized him right away.
It was the soldier who missed his shot.
I think he recognized me too.
But neither of us said anything.
It was strange.
It was like all we could do
was stay in our roles.
I was the customer.
He was the baker.
So...
I bought a baguette.
He sold it to me, and I left.
And now, I don't know what to do.
I saw him on the street the other day,
so I think he lives
in my neighborhood now.
I can't keep running into him.
What would you want to do?
I don't know.
I don't want to see him or talk to him.
I don't want to feel uncomfortable
in my neighborhood.
You could have
someone ask him to leave?
He has the right to be there if he wants.
It's not a matter of rights.
If he has any decency, he'll leave.
Do you know what happened
after I climbed out of the pit?
No.
I didn't understand
what just happened. It was like...
It all happened so fast.
It hadn't sunk in yet.
It's like it wasn't real.
It wasn't real.
My boyfriend hadn't just died next to me.
I hadn't just climbed out of a mass grave.
I started to get so cold.
I was shivering.
I was trying to think of the next steps,
what I had to do to survive.
I was trying to think practically.
And while I was sitting there...
naked, shaking like a leaf...
a mosquito landed on my arm.
Right before my eyes.
I watched as it repositioned himself.
And then it bit me like it was nothing.
And then...
It all hit me.
It was like a flood of emotions
just washed over me.
As I watched the mosquito bite me,
I was thinking:
"Can't I just have
two goddamn seconds of peace?"
But at the same time,
I was like: "No, bite me,
like everything is normal.
"Bite me, because life goes on.
"Life always goes on."
So I let it bite me.
I didn't want to kill it.
I didn't want to move.
I just wanted it to bite me.
And that's what it did.
It bit me and left. Just like that.
The bite mark was right here.
When it started to fade,
I made a little mark with a knife...
so I'd remember where it was.
And I kept doing it until it left a scar.
That little mark says...
"Fuck it.
"You're nothing.
"Life will go on with or without you,
"so why don't you try
looking at the bright side of it?"
So, the soldier who missed that day...
I don't want to make a big deal out of it.
I don't want to give a fuck.
I don't want to give a fuck about him
or his bakery.
He has the right to be there.
I'm just having a hard time right now.
You're strong, Valérie.
You don't have to
force yourself not to feel.
You're allowed to listen to your feelings.
Well, I'm feeling like
my break has been over for a while.
Sorry for dumping all of this on you.
Don't apologize. Please.
I was gonna tell you a blonde joke,
but I got off track.
- Next time.
- Yeah.
Thanks for listening.
Anytime.
I'll come back again later.
OK.
Come on.
What are you doing?
Sorry. The alarm won't stop.
Are you kidding?
What the hell?
Look, I took out the battery.
Are you sure it's coming from
your phone?
- Well...
- OK.
I wish...
I wish we could wake up together.
Did you record that?
No.
Who did?
I don't know.
Did you recognize the voice?
No, did you?
No. I can't even tell
if it's a man or a woman.
Or Nina Simone.
Yeah, that's it.
Nina Simone left us a message.
I forgot I downloaded
the Jazz Freaks You Out app.
Even if the battery is "offed."
The battery is what?
Oh, shut up!
I can't! Because we have to
wake up together.
- No way. I'm sleeping.
- You're sleeping?
- I'm sleeping.
- OK, sleep.
Do you want me to leave?
Why are you here?
I...
I wanted to tell you that whatever...
I wanted to tell you
that I'll do whatever you want.
If you want me to close my bakery
and leave, I will.
If you just want me
to avoid your street, I will.
If you need to yell at me...
Whatever it is...
I'll do whatever you want.
I just wanted to tell you that.
You don't even have to answer.
I...
I'd like...
I'd like to ask you a question.
Yes?
Did you miss your shot on purpose?
Yes.
I knew it was useless,
that you would...
I knew it would be worse,
a lot worse.
I couldn't do it.
But you still shot the man
on top of me.
Yes.
But he was the last one.
I got sick after that,
and they replaced me.
I couldn't do it anymore.
Well...
I think...
I think we should...
We should talk...
I think it would be
the best thing to do for now.
But I don't want to let you in.
We can go somewhere else.
I don't mind.
No, I'm practically in my PJs.
I don't want to leave.
We could sit right here.
OK.
Do you have anything to tell me
about the war?
Everything's been said.
Were you a baker before?
Yes. I've always been a baker.
Why did you stop during the war?
I didn't own the bakery.
I had to enlist,
but I didn't want to be in the army.
So I chose the police force.
I didn't think it would be as bad.
I thought I wouldn't have to
go to the front.
You were police officers?
Yes. There weren't enough soldiers.
The police battalions handled the groups.
"Handled?"
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I don't know how to put it.
It's OK.
Why our group?
I have no idea.
I don't know whose decision it was.
We found out that morning.
Was anyone against it?
I'm sure some were.
I was, anyway.
Did anyone refuse to do it?
No.
Why not?
We did what we had to do.
We were following orders.
I can't wrap my head around it now,
how it all happened.
But back then, it seemed logical.
Logical...
It's what had to be done.
The weird thing is that
the ones who believed in it most
were the craziest ones,
the dumbest ones,
the ones who annoyed me the most.
But they were the model soldiers.
They didn't need to be replaced.
They were excited for the next group.
Some of them ate
a full meal at night,
like it was just a normal day.
Not a lot of them, but some.
War skews everything.
Nothing is normal.
But that's not an excuse.
Nothing I say is an excuse.
Did you do a lot of operations like that?
I don't know.
Those times are all hazy now.
I can't remember separate incidents.
It's all blended together.
It went by fast. So fast.
I don't even know
how many people there were.
It was like a factory line.
It was senseless.
All I could do...
was make a deal
with the guy next to me.
I knew I could never shoot a child.
I couldn't do it.
But it was the opposite for him.
It was easier for him to shoot children
when he knew their dad or their mom
were dying next to them.
He said kids wouldn't survive
without their parents,
so they were better off dead.
So when I had a child
and he had the parent, we'd switch.
We'd switch. It was easier.
I did that.
It was all I could do.
There's no excuse.
Nothing I did can be forgiven.
Was it expensive to open your bakery?
Yes. But it's just money.
It doesn't matter.
OK.
If you don't mind...
I'd like you to move.
It doesn't have to be right away.
I understand it won't be easy.
You can take your time
to finish your lease,
pay off your loans
and get everything ready.
But, eventually, I would like you
not to be in my neighborhood.
I want you to know
I'm not trying to get revenge.
I wish I could tell you
it doesn't bother me if you stay...
but I can't.
I don't want to see you.
I don't want to think about you,
because when I do,
I think about my boyfriend
who died next to me.
I understand.
And, honestly, I don't think
you want to think about me either.
So, whenever you can...
and you can take your time...
I'd really like you to move.
Is that OK?
Excuse me?
Sorry, madam.
I hadn't recognized you.
I'LL NEVER BE HAPPY
I dreamt about you recently.
I'm sure it was you.
It was strange.
I was young, about 25.
And we were playing volleyball.
I played a lot of volleyball
when I was young.
I haven't dreamed about it
in a long time.
We were playing,
but the court was too small.
We were too close to each other.
I was doing all the passes.
You were in charge of smashing.
But they kept returning the ball.
By the end, we were both really upset.
I was upset because
you couldn't score a point.
I was yelling: "Come on! Let's go!"
And you were upset
because no matter what you did,
the ball kept coming back.
You were smashing it harder and harder,
and I kept yelling:
"Come on! You suck!"
At the end,
you turned toward me and yelled:
"Stop it! It's not true!"
That's when I woke up.
You look like you're searching
for something you'll never find.
What disappoints you most about death?
Abandoning life.
Everything that will go on without me.
The books I'll never read,
the people I'll never meet.
Everything that's left to discover.
All the wonderful or terrible events
I'll simply never witness.
Some people say they'd like to live
in a different era,
like the Renaissance
or the Enlightenment,
in the time of Shakespeare
or Socrates.
I've always thought
I'd like to live in the next era,
because there would always be
something new to discover,
a new perspective on life.
And even then,
if someone asked me,
I'd still say I wanted to live
in the era after that.
But anyway...
We both know that's impossible.
It has to come to an end
while everything else keeps going.
It's quite a shame it has to end.
Being obliged to stop
witnessing the world...
that's my fatal disappointment.
Are you afraid to die?
Of course.
Aren't you?
Me?
I'm afraid I don't exist.
If you're here, you exist.
But I fear I might not be here.
Do you understand?
I don't know
what's happening to me lately.
No one can explain it.
It's like I'm seeing clearly
for the first time in my life.
And I'm realizing I don't really exist.
It's dizzying.
I can't function anymore.
I'm afraid.
I'm afraid of not being here right now.
Here in your room,
I'm afraid I don't exist.
I don't even know how I got here.
Through the door.
You like making fun of people, don't you?
I like making fun of myself too.
Do you think you'll die laughing?
Do you think you'll be happy?
No. I just hope I'm still lucid.
You don't have to do this.
Yes, I do.
It won't bring you peace.
Are you afraid?
Yes.
Good. You're lucid.
Can't it wait just a while longer?
No.
I can't move.
That's normal.
I'm sorry,
but you're going to take me seriously.
- Now that's something.
- It's really something, huh?
It's unbelievable!
It's really flattering.
It's so hideous!
Well, thank you, my love.
Look how beautiful I am.
It's gross!
Go on.
Go on!
- How's everyone doing?
- Good.
I can't hear you.
How's everyone doing?
Good!
It was during the war.
That memory of Samuel and me
goofing off in front of the mirror
happened during the war.
I think one of the periods in my life
I laughed most
was during the war.
I've never told anyone that.
I could never admit it out loud.
"During the war, I laughed a lot."
But it's true.
Even if it was hard sometimes,
but whenever we weren't
directly confronted with the war,
we found ways to laugh.
Not necessarily more or less than usual.
We just...
kept on living.
Of course, when you find out
your mom was publicly hung
for trying to stage a revolt,
you laugh a little less.
But at least she died
setting an example.
People said:
"It's the most beautiful day of her life.
"She's going to meet God."
That's a beautiful day?
A bit of sunshine and some frozen yogurt
is good enough for me!
So many people were dying back then,
I'm sure she didn't meet God himself.
More like his administrative assistant.
"God welcomes you.
"Here's your name tag,
a map to the pool
"and a voucher
for Cana restaurant,
"where we multiply food
faster than the competition."
By show of applause,
who here believes in God?
Personally, I'm not so sure.
I have a hard time believing
in a spiritual entity
who only shares his revelations
with those given to megalomania.
I think that, overall...
accepting that life is meaningless
is one of the hardest things to do.
That and moving a fridge
up a Montreal staircase.
But at least a fridge is useful.
Accepting that life is meaningless
doesn't even keep milk from spoiling.
Although if God existed...
I could at least hope
to see Samuel again.
'Cause the last time we saw each other,
we didn't talk much.
A lot was going through our heads.
For me, it was terror.
Him, a bullet.
Both our minds were elsewhere.
Then dead or alive,
they buried us, and that was it!
But at least they were composting!
It was an eco-friendly massacre.
They even donated our clothes
to the poor.
You could tell that army truly cared
about the lives of others.
It's stressful, being buried alive.
Poor visibility, restricted breathing,
certainty you're about to die...
I don't recommend it
for your next vacation.
Try out a new fitness trail instead.
You also wonder if there's any point
in trying to escape.
Or if you should just swallow
a mouthful of dirt.
And you come close to doing it
a few times.
There are moments where you go: "OK...
"Enough. I'm done."
But then you remember you have
a sportswear gift certificate.
Hiking shoes are expensive!
It took me...
It took me a long time...
before even considering...
thinking about loving someone
other than Samuel.
But we had grown very distant.
We weren't communicating.
Our sex life was not the same.
When I met Gabriel...
it was the first time
I had that feeling again.
That same kind of day-to-day happiness.
Plus, Gabriel still had the back
of his neck.
Samuel...
Samuel is slowly fading away.
It's sad.
I hate that it's an ordinary injustice
for people who die too young.
I think about everything
that's happened since the war.
I've been through so much.
Samuel will never get to
experience those things,
with or without me.
That's not the point.
He's stuck somewhere in the past...
and I'm forgetting him
more and more each day.
There are very few people...
in my life...
who have meant as much to me
as Samuel.
And I hardly ever think about
him anymore.
Once in a while, when the war comes up
or when I'm alone.
It can be hard to be alone.
And sometimes, you need to take
a moment to relive painful memories
before you keep going.
It even helps a little.
Little "solo-maso" moments.
And as much as I try not to...
I can't help thinking about
what I would do
if I got to see Samuel again.
If he was here right now in front of me.
I honestly think that
I'd hug him so hard
that he'd die a second time.
But we'll never know.
Samuel is fading, and that's that.
Today, he's less important...
in my daily life...
than my shopping list.
When I think about it...
I freeze.
Because life is so beautiful...
and its meaning, so absurd...
it's so dumb...
that you can't help but cry laughing.
So what do we do?
We laugh or we cry?
Do we laugh or do we cry?
Hey.
Hey.
It's too bad she left us
during your weekend.
It's OK.
Do you know how she died?
She had a heart attack in her sleep.
She didn't feel a thing.
OK.
- Need a hand?
- No, I'm almost done.
I'll go make my rounds, then.
You're a damn bastard.
- Oh, Valérie.
- Hi.
I'm glad you came.
- My condolences.
- Thank you.
You really were her favorite.
Thank you.
My boyfriend, Gabriel.
- Nice to meet you.
- Her daughter.
- My condolences.
- Thank you.
How are you holding up?
I'm OK.
It's been an emotional couple of days,
but I'm OK.
Mom took care of everything,
so that helps.
You know how she is.
She wanted to save us the trouble.
I'm not surprised.
You were amazing with her.
She was so afraid of going to a home
and being forced to knit
while watching figure skating.
I think she would have strangled
someone.
Definitely.
She was so lucky to have you.
Thanks. I was the lucky one.
- Thanks for being here.
- It's our pleasure.
Hi, Valérie.
My condolences.
Thanks for being here.
Madam?
Hello.
You knew my mother?
Yes.
- My condolences.
- Thank you.
My condolences.
- You OK?
- Yeah, yeah.
Did you talk to the notary?
Yeah, I called him earlier.
I think I'm getting a little money
and lots and lots of books.
- It's not surprising.
- No.
And that's fine by me.
My mom always left notes
in her books.
So I'll be able to read them with her.
I'm sure we'll still bicker.
That's for sure.
We'll make room for a nice bookcase?
Of course we will.
Definitely.
If it gets too creepy,
we'll put them in the basement.
- It's gonna be OK.
- I know.
I think I'm hungry.
Want me to get something
at the corner store?
- Do you mind?
- Of course not.
What do you want?
Whatever. A sandwich.
Anything else?
A gross, half-dried-out brownie?
Yes.
- Yes?
- Yeah.
OK. Be right back.
Oh, shit!
It can't be it, no.
Not now.
It was all for nothing.
- Mom...
- It's fucking bullshit!
- Stop. Calm down.
- Shut up.
I don't give a shit about you.
Don't tell me to calm down. Shut up.
You're not my daughter.
You never have been. You're nothing.
- I don't wanna die!
- Mom...
It was all for nothing.
It's bullshit!
I'm all alone.
- I'm here, Mom.
- No! I'm all alone.
It can't end like this. Shit!
Please stop. Let yourself go.
I don't want to.
I'm still here.
It's not over.
I don't want to?
I don't want to die.
I'm still here.
LAUGHTER
Move!
Come on, move it.
THEN
Faster.
Come on!
Give your bag.
Move it!
Come on, hurry up.
Empty your pockets.
Keep moving.
Let's go!
Take everything off.
Keep going, take off your clothes.
Stay with your group!
Fire!
Come on, move.
Stop!
OK, girls, out!
Let's go.
Lie down! On your stomachs.
Everybody, lie down!
Aim!
It's gonna be fine.
Fire!
Go ahead, girls.
Let's go.
Lie down!
Everybody down!
God, I beg you.
I'm begging you, don't abandon us now.
- Don't abandon us, God.
- Aim!
Fire!
NOW
It's not sexy at all!
Come on, I'm oozing sex!
Check this out.
No, it's gross.
What do you mean, "gross"?
Look at my hips!
Your hips aren't the problem, Gab.
It's your face.
- What's wrong with my face?
- It's ugly.
No way. You call this ugly?
Well...
You look like a horny anteater.
A horny anteater?
Is that supposed to be a compliment?
No, it's not.
Fine. I'll never dance again.
- Oh God! Poor Gab.
- It's over! That's all you're gonna get.
Leave it.
We can do that tomorrow.
What time do you get up tomorrow?
6:00.
Another dance?
I knew you liked it.
Oh, sure.
My turn!
It's gonna be fine.
I'm begging you.
Do something.
God, please.
Seriously. It couldn't wait?
Have a seat.
What's going on?
You OK?
What's wrong?
Something happened this morning.
I don't know what exactly.
I've never experienced anything like it.
It was like a dream,
but I was completely awake,
completely lucid.
Would you say you know me well?
I hope so.
We've known each other 15 years.
Who am I? Define me.
Why are you asking me this?
You're you.
You're hardworking, smart, ambitious...
Am I funny?
Funny?
I don't know.
Yeah, you're funny.
You're not the funniest person ever,
but you have a good sense of humor.
What's the funniest thing
I've ever said to you?
I don't know!
Why are you asking me this?
What happened this morning?
I went to the restroom to wash my hands,
like I do every morning.
Everything was normal.
I wasn't feeling any different.
I stepped into the restroom,
turned on the light
and walked up to the sink.
It was like any other day.
I wasn't even thinking about it.
My mind was already on
my afternoon meeting.
But then...
Then what?
I felt something.
Something was off.
Everything was different somehow.
Everything felt wrong.
I went numb.
My legs especially.
I could hardly feel them.
I felt like I was gonna faint.
I didn't know what was happening.
It was like I was in the wrong place.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror.
It wasn't me.
It wasn't my reflection.
I wasn't looking at myself.
It was someone else.
Who?
I don't know.
Someone I'd never seen before.
It was an old lady
sitting in a wheelchair.
The space was different.
It wasn't my restroom in the mirror.
It looked like a hospital restroom.
Maybe it was just...
some kind of hallucination.
No, I wasn't hallucinating.
I wasn't dreaming.
I'm sure of it, because...
that old lady was...
It was me.
What do you mean, "you"?
Like you, older?
No. It was me.
It was me now.
When I saw her...
I suddenly realized
that everything was fake.
When I saw her,
when I became her,
I had never felt more alive
than I did at that moment.
It's like I was waking up.
It's like the dream wasn't
what I saw in the mirror.
It was me.
Me in my restroom.
Like my whole life had been a dream.
I was lucid for the first time.
It's as if I suddenly realized
I was living the wrong life.
The real me was that woman
in the mirror.
And I had never felt so good, so alive.
I was an old woman
in a wheelchair in a hospital,
but I felt good.
I felt like laughing.
It was like a giant weight
had been lifted.
For the first time, I felt like myself.
Like the lying was over.
All right. Let's have a look
at that restroom.
Do you see anything?
Hello?
OK, get out of there.
Yes. I'm ready.
OK, let's go.
Hello, Ms. Breault! You doing OK?
So, what's up with you now?
I just did a big poo!
A big poo! Well, that's very good.
Let's change that diaper
and get you all cleaned up!
How wonderful!
Did you bring my Disney stickers too?
Or is it normal for you to talk like
a dumb kindergarten teacher?
Well, I guess we'll let
Ms. Breault stew in her shit
while she thinks about what she said.
Go tell the Care Bears that
a mean old lady ruined your rainbow!
Come on.
I can't stand that one.
Well, it's kind of your fault.
Really, how?
You shouldn't have shit yourself
during my break.
You're always on break.
And you're always full of shit!
Careful.
Let's lift your legs.
Roll onto your side.
Could you please stop shaking?
It's annoying.
I can't help it.
I'm still shaken
by what the candy-unicorn orderly said.
Did you really need to call her "dumb"?
She'll get over it.
She'll go home,
talk to her cats,
then masturbate to her well-worn copy
of Fifty Shades of Grey.
She'll fall asleep
with a smile on her face.
Such cruelty!
What are you reading?
Pascal Quignard. He's a bastard.
Why?
He writes too damn well.
On your back.
You OK?
Yes.
It's music day today.
Should I ask someone to come get you?
You do that, I swear I'll kill you.
How come?
I didn't like Gignac or Trenet
when I was 30.
I don't want to listen to some
off-key crooner covering them today.
No, apparently,
it's an Iron Maiden cover band.
There's gonna be a mosh pit.
You guys are gonna have fun
popping all those hips back into place.
Yep!
OK. You comfortable?
Yes, thank you.
Time to go beddy-bye!
Right, Ms. Breault?
Want me to read you a bedtime story?
Yes.
Tell me about the Acadian Expulsion
from an ethnological perspective.
Sorry. I don't know that one
'cause there's no Prince Charming.
All right.
Good night, Jeanne.
Good night. Thank you.
You're welcome.
Did she calm down a bit?
She was very calm.
- Is that for the woman in Room 14?
- Yeah, I was on my way there.
Don't worry, I'll go.
Thanks.
Ma'am?
You should eat something.
You'll feel better.
I brought you a new plate.
You can't.
I know who you are.
You can't.
I'm tired.
It's morning! Hello!
It's gonna be a beautiful day!
Fuck off.
Damn. I shouldn't have done that.
I'm blinded.
Serves you right.
I love you so much.
You're so energetic and full of life.
Big night?
It was OK. I'm just beat.
I don't know why.
I'll let you sleep.
NOW OPEN!
$8 please.
- Thanks.
- Bye.
Hello!
Hello. Two baguettes.
OK.
$5.
- Thank you.
- Thank you.
Hello.
Hello.
One baguette.
No, it's fine. I have my...
How much?
$2.50.
Thank you.
Hello, Jeanne.
Hello, Alice.
How are you?
I'm good, you?
My son came to see me this morning.
I think he wishes I was dead.
Well, he'll have to be patient.
How's your daughter?
Good. She visited yesterday.
She's doing great.
My son, not so much.
He had a hard time after the war.
Him and his wife
have a lot on their plate.
They have a family.
I think he wishes I was dead.
You're still here, Alice.
But I only threw up
twice this morning.
Usually, it's three times.
I think I'm getting better.
Well, that's good news, isn't it?
Why are we the ones
who are still here, Jeanne?
Why not?
Everything water-based rots, Jeanne.
Everything rots.
My brother had a heart attack at 34.
His daughter was 5 years old.
He died in front of her.
He's been rotting for 40 years, Jeanne.
Why aren't we made of stone?
Why did I only throw up twice?
Why, my little God... Behind...
Did you know, Jeanne?
Everyone hallucinates
that there's someone behind them.
Did you know that?
No, I didn't.
Sometimes, we think...
Our instinct makes us think
there's someone there to protect us
in case there really is someone there.
I have two sisters too.
They're all dead.
There's a presence behind us.
We feel a presence there,
when really, there's no one.
And what if that was it, my God?
My God! What if that was it?
What if there's nothing else?
What if there's no one there?
Why aren't we made of stone?
Is my little God
just an illusion of menace?
And if my brother, my sisters,
my niece and everyone else behind me
weren't really there...
My son wishes I was dead.
Why?why...
Why did I only throw up twice?
You're going to be fine, Alice.
Yeah.
Why don't you tell me a joke?
This one's kind of dumb,
but it makes me laugh.
OK.
Why did the carnival mascot
have bad breath?
I don't know.
Because he farted in his costume.
Ah, good one.
Thanks. That helps.
I think I'll go try to throw up a bit.
You can stay if you want.
No, I'll go.
Thanks again for the joke.
No problem.
I think he wishes I was dead.
There's nothing wrong with
your restroom. Everything's normal.
OK.
- You OK?
- Sure.
Can I have a piece of bread?
I didn't have lunch.
Take the whole thing.
Thanks!
OK, I'm out.
I shouldn't even be here.
Plus, I have a date. Ciao.
Bye.
Ma'am?
Are you OK, ma'am?
I'm a healthcare worker.
Maybe I can help.
You're sweet,
but we're just practicing.
It's not even a real baby.
Now we have to start over!
It's fine. We just left.
Careful. It's green.
Have a good day!
- All done, ma'am?
- Yes.
All right.
I'm taking my break.
Can I come chill with you?
Sorry, the Chamber of Commerce
is having its annual meeting
next to my bed.
They'll be lost without me.
- You're so important.
- Yes.
When your food is cut into little pieces,
you're unstoppable!
- Did you finish the Quignard book?
- Yes, this morning.
Wow, you remembered his name.
And they say young people
are losing touch with concrete things.
I'm confronted with concrete things
every time I change your diaper, Jeanne.
Good. I'm glad I'm giving you
a dose of reality.
It'd be great if that dose of reality
didn't smell like old squash.
Did you underline some good passages?
Yes. The book is right there. Take it.
Here.
Read this.
"Apoptosis of the leaves of a tree.
"Not falling,
but carried away by the wind."
Do you know what "apoptosis" means?
Yes. Oh yeah.
I had it once,
but my doctor gave me pills,
and it cleared right up.
I didn't know either.
I looked it up in the dictionary.
It's programmed cell death.
It's the process by which human cells,
when they receive a signal,
self-destruct to make way for new cells.
Really?
Yep. Interesting, isn't it?
The cells in our body
are ready to self-destruct.
All it takes is a signal.
Like the leaves on a tree.
All it takes is a gust of wind.
Isn't that beautiful?
That bastard can really write.
It is beautiful.
How's Mr. Hénault?
Since his fall, not so good.
He's not moving.
He's in a lot of pain.
It's like he's letting himself go.
That's too bad.
Did you know he's not from Montreal?
- He's from Drummondville, right?
- Victoriaville.
Victoriaville!
He fixed TVs his whole life.
That was his job.
Did you know his wife almost died
when he was young?
No?
The doctors were at a loss.
They told him
she probably wouldn't make it.
So one afternoon, he got in his car,
found a babysitter for his kids,
drove two hours to Montreal
and climbed the holy steps
at Saint Joseph's Oratory on his knees
to ask God to save his wife.
Really?
Yes. She survived.
Years later, their daughter had a child
with a chronic disease.
Someone had to
take care of him every day.
So Mr. Hénault and his wife
left Victoriaville.
They sold their house
and got an apartment near their daughter
to take care of their grandson.
Even though they both hate Montreal.
If ever you get the chance to meet them,
his daughter and grandson visit often.
The grandson is around 15 now.
His daughter tells me
he's doing much better.
Mrs. Hénault visits every day.
She's in top shape.
I don't think God
had anything to do with that.
But goodness did.
Goodness surely had
something to do with it.
One of his sons visits often too.
You should check him out.
He has a nice ass.
Jonathan Swift?
I don't want to marry him.
I just said he has a nice ass.
Where are they?
Don't you have a copy somewhere?
Over there.
I keep them close.
Jonathan Swift:
"Resolutions When I Come to Be Old."
Hey, he wrote this in 1699.
He was 32.
"Not to marry a young woman."
Or in your case, a young man.
I never said I wanted to marry him!
"Not to keep young company
unless they really desire it."
Do you desire my company?
I don't know.
I'll think about it.
"Not to be peevish or morose,
or suspicious."
Yeah, OK.
I'll give you that one.
"Not to scorn present ways, or wits,
"or fashions, or men, or war, etc."
I'm OK there. I scorn the present
just as much as I did when I was young.
It's true.
You're very consistent in your scorn.
"Not to be fond of children."
That's my favorite one!
"Not to neglect decency or cleanliness
for fear of falling into nastiness."
I think we'll stop right there, Jeanne!
Unfair! This is psychological abuse!
Are you gonna file a complaint?
Yes.
Do you want me to sing you
a nursery rhyme instead?
No, I'm fine.
If you're abused and you know it,
stomp your feet!
See, you're not abused!
Are you OK?
I understand.
Here.
Val?
Yeah?
Could you come here, please?
Yeah, coming.
Sorry. Did I wake you?
No.
Are you OK?
What is she doing there?
I don't know.
Ma'am?
What are you doing here?
Ma'am?
You shouldn't be here.
I can be anywhere I want!
Gab?
What is it, Gab?
Are you all right?
Yeah.
You OK?
Yeah, I'm fine.
I'm gonna get some water.
I'll get it.
Thanks.
You were making yourself a snack?
Yeah, I was hungry.
Do you know who that was?
I think she's from the residence.
She's a patient?
I don't know.
I don't know her.
She was there before I was.
All I know is we're not to bother her, and
we bring her meals three times a day.
What happened?
I don't know.
I woke up because I heard
someone crying.
I thought it was in my dream.
I dreamt I was on a plane,
and I was looking out the window.
We were flying over Montreal.
I could see...
I could see our neighborhood
and the church rising above the buildings.
And I really wanted to
find our apartment.
But I couldn't. I don't know why.
Every time I came close,
I realized it was the wrong spot.
It was like the streets had shifted,
and I had to start over.
But I really wanted to find it.
I was obsessed.
That's when I heard someone crying
on the plane.
I turned and realized
it was the person next to me.
I was sure I'd seen him before,
but I couldn't remember where.
That's when I woke up and realized
there really was someone crying.
Did you talk to her?
No.
When I realized she was there,
I turned on the light
to see what was going on.
And when I saw her...
I couldn't do anything.
I didn't know if I should help her
or ask her what she was doing there.
But I couldn't.
I froze.
All I could do was watch her cry.
I couldn't even move.
Even though she was in my room,
it was like...
It was like I didn't want to bother her.
Then all of a sudden, I felt like
I was the one who shouldn't be there.
Like I was the intruder.
I was in my bed,
but I had no right to be there.
I was so scared.
I just wanted to stay there.
I wanted to keep my place.
I want to keep my life.
I like my life.
I may not have the right to be here,
but I don't want to lose it.
That's all I could do.
Just stay... stay there and watch her.
She wouldn't stop crying.
I stayed there and watched her cry
for I don't know how long.
I didn't want to move.
I don't... I don't want her
to take my place.
I'm not an intruder! OK?
I could have gotten my degree, but
things don't always work out that way.
Sometimes, you've got to live!
We often feel like we're not
living fully, don't we?
It's like every time we make a choice,
we're giving up a thousand other things.
It's weird, huh?
It's like every time we choose a path,
all the other ones disappear,
as if life was just
a series of missed opportunities.
It's strange, isn't it?
It's like we're not
committed to our lives.
We see it as a limitation,
like we're just eliminating possibilities.
I'm sorry.
I'm deep in thought today.
It doesn't happen often.
Don't worry.
But if that's my biggest flaw,
it's not so bad, right?
I think it's because...
I feel comfortable
sitting here talking to you.
Not everyone would say that.
But who cares about them?
Go ahead. Have another one.
Don't be shy.
Ma'am?
What were you doing
in my apartment?
Ma'am, I know it was you last night.
What were you doing there?
You're gonna stop blubbering like an idiot
and answer me.
You're not a good person.
What?
Listen to me.
What's your problem?
What's your fucking problem?
Valérie, what's gotten into you?
Jesus, Val,
what were you thinking?
I can't take it anymore.
Excuse me?
I can't... I just can't.
What do you think you're doing?
Did I give you permission to talk?
That's not what you're here for.
You're not supposed to feel anything
unless I tell you to.
I didn't tell you anything.
I won't tell you anything.
I'm the one that's hurting.
You're nothing.
No one cares that you even exist.
Do what you're here to do,
and that's it.
No one cares what you think.
Just shut your mouth and work.
Do you really think
you're interesting?
Do you really think
you're worth knowing?
Look at yourself.
You're completely inconsequential.
You're not here to talk.
You're just a tool.
You're not here to feel.
You're not here to speak.
You're here to be used!
But what about my life?
You should be ashamed of yourself,
you dirty, useless mongrel.
My son wishes I was dead.
My brother had a heart attack at 34.
You maggot.
My son wishes I was dead!
Stop crying and get up!
Get up! Get up and keep going.
Why aren't you getting up?
You coward.
Come in.
Shut the door behind you, please.
Have a seat.
This is the first time we meet
in a disciplinary context, isn't it?
- Yes.
- Let's hope it's the last.
- Do you always bike to work?
- Yes.
Good. That's a healthy habit.
Now let's move on to more
serious matters.
First, I'd like to discuss
the notion of precedent,
an important notion in all organizations,
but especially in residences like ours,
where the human factor
is a major consideration.
Much like jurisprudence can significantly
impact the outcome of a legal case,
precedent in an organization
can quickly cause an imbalance
in employee management
and create dissatisfaction,
grievances and even deadly riots.
And don't think I'm exaggerating.
A deadly riot followed
a poorly managed precedent
in a Swedish factory in April, 1973.
That being said, management
must take appropriate measures
following your actions
in Room 14 yesterday.
Failure to take action
would create a precedent
that could destroy the sense of balance
our organization has strived to maintain
since our last optimization phase.
Of course, we're all human,
but we'll leave that topic aside for now.
What happened in Room 14
is unacceptable
according to the code of conduct
our employees must respect.
You signed and acknowledged
this code of conduct
when you were hired
on June 16, 2014,
and the amendments
made on November 22, 2014,
January 31, 2015,
March 6 and September 23, 2016,
April 8, 2017,
November 18 and February 6, 2018.
You are therefore bound
by this code of conduct.
To summarize the incident,
confirmed by two of your colleagues,
an acceptable number of witnesses
according to our organization,
you accosted a patient
of this establishment,
forcefully grabbing her arm
until your colleagues intervened.
You also yelled at the patient,
using the words:
"What's your fucking problem?"
This type of language is prohibited
by our code of conduct,
which, I'll remind you,
you signed on the aforementioned dates.
Your conduct may have been prompted
by personal issues.
However, these issues should not
alter your judgment
to the point of committing such an act.
Everyone is entitled
to their personal life,
to their own little bubble
of happiness or sadness, so to speak.
We must not forget
that the search for happiness
is central to mankind.
I personally find happiness
through reading detective novels
and making homemade pasta,
for example.
However, I shouldn't
subject my colleagues to any outbursts
if my cannelloni didn't turn out
the night before.
Of course, this is just an example,
but I'm sure you can grasp
the deeper meaning behind it.
That said, we take this
type of incident very seriously.
We are therefore obligated
to take disciplinary measures.
Of course, if you are currently
suffering from depression
or experiencing psychological distress,
please don't hesitate
to talk to me about it.
I can refer you to
the appropriate resources
to help you overcome your problems
and optimize your conduct
in the workplace.
In "director of human resources,"
there is the word "human" after all.
As per the terms
of our collective agreement,
and because this is your first offense,
I am now issuing you a verbal warning.
You've been warned.
I urge you to take measures to ensure
such an incident does not happen again.
I'll ask you to date and sign
this document summarizing the warning.
This second copy is yours to keep.
That will be all on our end.
Is there anything you'd like to add?
No.
Very well.
You may go back to work.
Remember, you're a valued part
of our organization.
You scored highly at your evaluations,
and we hope you'll be with us
for a long time.
I hope that we have a nice fall
so you can continue to bike to work.
- Thank you.
- Goodbye.
Goodbye.
Hello.
Hey.
Careful where you sit.
I shit in that bed.
Sorry.
What are you reading?
Flora Balzano.
Another bastard?
A damn bastard.
What's up with you?
Apart from basking in the glory of life...
Nothing.
What did you do during the war?
Not much.
Even if it was a while ago,
I was already an old geezer.
It's a strange concept, isn't it?
Everyone goes in one direction,
and most people follow.
And even if you know
they're going in the wrong direction,
you don't dare say anything,
because you're just trying to
keep your head above water.
You realize that everything
you used to think was insane and absurd
is slowly becoming accepted as normal,
and you have to treat it
like anything else in life.
And in this new reality,
things that are even more insane
and more absurd creep up on you.
You try to stop it,
but you forget that everything
you found insane and absurd
just a few years ago,
is accepted by everyone now.
It's like a cloud that expands so slowly
that everyone says:
"No, it's always been that size."
And you never realize that
you can't see the sun anymore.
War must have hit you hard, huh?
Yeah.
What did you do? Hide?
No, I was the luckiest girl in the world.
How so?
My boyfriend and I were taken
to the forest in September.
It was one bullet per person, no more.
They were worried about
running out of ammunition.
The soldier who shot me missed.
Samuel died,
and then it just kept going.
I don't know how I managed
to keep breathing.
When everything went quiet,
I decided to wait half an hour
before trying to get out.
But I don't think
I even made it to 20 minutes.
I was really lucky
no one was there when I climbed out.
It was calm.
It was all over.
It was like nothing had happened.
I don't like telling that story,
'cause nobody looks at me
the same after.
Why are you telling me now?
Last week, a new bakery
opened up near my apartment.
I went to check it out.
It's a perfectly normal bakery, but...
The owner,
or the man serving people, anyway...
I recognized him right away.
It was the soldier who missed his shot.
I think he recognized me too.
But neither of us said anything.
It was strange.
It was like all we could do
was stay in our roles.
I was the customer.
He was the baker.
So...
I bought a baguette.
He sold it to me, and I left.
And now, I don't know what to do.
I saw him on the street the other day,
so I think he lives
in my neighborhood now.
I can't keep running into him.
What would you want to do?
I don't know.
I don't want to see him or talk to him.
I don't want to feel uncomfortable
in my neighborhood.
You could have
someone ask him to leave?
He has the right to be there if he wants.
It's not a matter of rights.
If he has any decency, he'll leave.
Do you know what happened
after I climbed out of the pit?
No.
I didn't understand
what just happened. It was like...
It all happened so fast.
It hadn't sunk in yet.
It's like it wasn't real.
It wasn't real.
My boyfriend hadn't just died next to me.
I hadn't just climbed out of a mass grave.
I started to get so cold.
I was shivering.
I was trying to think of the next steps,
what I had to do to survive.
I was trying to think practically.
And while I was sitting there...
naked, shaking like a leaf...
a mosquito landed on my arm.
Right before my eyes.
I watched as it repositioned himself.
And then it bit me like it was nothing.
And then...
It all hit me.
It was like a flood of emotions
just washed over me.
As I watched the mosquito bite me,
I was thinking:
"Can't I just have
two goddamn seconds of peace?"
But at the same time,
I was like: "No, bite me,
like everything is normal.
"Bite me, because life goes on.
"Life always goes on."
So I let it bite me.
I didn't want to kill it.
I didn't want to move.
I just wanted it to bite me.
And that's what it did.
It bit me and left. Just like that.
The bite mark was right here.
When it started to fade,
I made a little mark with a knife...
so I'd remember where it was.
And I kept doing it until it left a scar.
That little mark says...
"Fuck it.
"You're nothing.
"Life will go on with or without you,
"so why don't you try
looking at the bright side of it?"
So, the soldier who missed that day...
I don't want to make a big deal out of it.
I don't want to give a fuck.
I don't want to give a fuck about him
or his bakery.
He has the right to be there.
I'm just having a hard time right now.
You're strong, Valérie.
You don't have to
force yourself not to feel.
You're allowed to listen to your feelings.
Well, I'm feeling like
my break has been over for a while.
Sorry for dumping all of this on you.
Don't apologize. Please.
I was gonna tell you a blonde joke,
but I got off track.
- Next time.
- Yeah.
Thanks for listening.
Anytime.
I'll come back again later.
OK.
Come on.
What are you doing?
Sorry. The alarm won't stop.
Are you kidding?
What the hell?
Look, I took out the battery.
Are you sure it's coming from
your phone?
- Well...
- OK.
I wish...
I wish we could wake up together.
Did you record that?
No.
Who did?
I don't know.
Did you recognize the voice?
No, did you?
No. I can't even tell
if it's a man or a woman.
Or Nina Simone.
Yeah, that's it.
Nina Simone left us a message.
I forgot I downloaded
the Jazz Freaks You Out app.
Even if the battery is "offed."
The battery is what?
Oh, shut up!
I can't! Because we have to
wake up together.
- No way. I'm sleeping.
- You're sleeping?
- I'm sleeping.
- OK, sleep.
Do you want me to leave?
Why are you here?
I...
I wanted to tell you that whatever...
I wanted to tell you
that I'll do whatever you want.
If you want me to close my bakery
and leave, I will.
If you just want me
to avoid your street, I will.
If you need to yell at me...
Whatever it is...
I'll do whatever you want.
I just wanted to tell you that.
You don't even have to answer.
I...
I'd like...
I'd like to ask you a question.
Yes?
Did you miss your shot on purpose?
Yes.
I knew it was useless,
that you would...
I knew it would be worse,
a lot worse.
I couldn't do it.
But you still shot the man
on top of me.
Yes.
But he was the last one.
I got sick after that,
and they replaced me.
I couldn't do it anymore.
Well...
I think...
I think we should...
We should talk...
I think it would be
the best thing to do for now.
But I don't want to let you in.
We can go somewhere else.
I don't mind.
No, I'm practically in my PJs.
I don't want to leave.
We could sit right here.
OK.
Do you have anything to tell me
about the war?
Everything's been said.
Were you a baker before?
Yes. I've always been a baker.
Why did you stop during the war?
I didn't own the bakery.
I had to enlist,
but I didn't want to be in the army.
So I chose the police force.
I didn't think it would be as bad.
I thought I wouldn't have to
go to the front.
You were police officers?
Yes. There weren't enough soldiers.
The police battalions handled the groups.
"Handled?"
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I don't know how to put it.
It's OK.
Why our group?
I have no idea.
I don't know whose decision it was.
We found out that morning.
Was anyone against it?
I'm sure some were.
I was, anyway.
Did anyone refuse to do it?
No.
Why not?
We did what we had to do.
We were following orders.
I can't wrap my head around it now,
how it all happened.
But back then, it seemed logical.
Logical...
It's what had to be done.
The weird thing is that
the ones who believed in it most
were the craziest ones,
the dumbest ones,
the ones who annoyed me the most.
But they were the model soldiers.
They didn't need to be replaced.
They were excited for the next group.
Some of them ate
a full meal at night,
like it was just a normal day.
Not a lot of them, but some.
War skews everything.
Nothing is normal.
But that's not an excuse.
Nothing I say is an excuse.
Did you do a lot of operations like that?
I don't know.
Those times are all hazy now.
I can't remember separate incidents.
It's all blended together.
It went by fast. So fast.
I don't even know
how many people there were.
It was like a factory line.
It was senseless.
All I could do...
was make a deal
with the guy next to me.
I knew I could never shoot a child.
I couldn't do it.
But it was the opposite for him.
It was easier for him to shoot children
when he knew their dad or their mom
were dying next to them.
He said kids wouldn't survive
without their parents,
so they were better off dead.
So when I had a child
and he had the parent, we'd switch.
We'd switch. It was easier.
I did that.
It was all I could do.
There's no excuse.
Nothing I did can be forgiven.
Was it expensive to open your bakery?
Yes. But it's just money.
It doesn't matter.
OK.
If you don't mind...
I'd like you to move.
It doesn't have to be right away.
I understand it won't be easy.
You can take your time
to finish your lease,
pay off your loans
and get everything ready.
But, eventually, I would like you
not to be in my neighborhood.
I want you to know
I'm not trying to get revenge.
I wish I could tell you
it doesn't bother me if you stay...
but I can't.
I don't want to see you.
I don't want to think about you,
because when I do,
I think about my boyfriend
who died next to me.
I understand.
And, honestly, I don't think
you want to think about me either.
So, whenever you can...
and you can take your time...
I'd really like you to move.
Is that OK?
Excuse me?
Sorry, madam.
I hadn't recognized you.
I'LL NEVER BE HAPPY
I dreamt about you recently.
I'm sure it was you.
It was strange.
I was young, about 25.
And we were playing volleyball.
I played a lot of volleyball
when I was young.
I haven't dreamed about it
in a long time.
We were playing,
but the court was too small.
We were too close to each other.
I was doing all the passes.
You were in charge of smashing.
But they kept returning the ball.
By the end, we were both really upset.
I was upset because
you couldn't score a point.
I was yelling: "Come on! Let's go!"
And you were upset
because no matter what you did,
the ball kept coming back.
You were smashing it harder and harder,
and I kept yelling:
"Come on! You suck!"
At the end,
you turned toward me and yelled:
"Stop it! It's not true!"
That's when I woke up.
You look like you're searching
for something you'll never find.
What disappoints you most about death?
Abandoning life.
Everything that will go on without me.
The books I'll never read,
the people I'll never meet.
Everything that's left to discover.
All the wonderful or terrible events
I'll simply never witness.
Some people say they'd like to live
in a different era,
like the Renaissance
or the Enlightenment,
in the time of Shakespeare
or Socrates.
I've always thought
I'd like to live in the next era,
because there would always be
something new to discover,
a new perspective on life.
And even then,
if someone asked me,
I'd still say I wanted to live
in the era after that.
But anyway...
We both know that's impossible.
It has to come to an end
while everything else keeps going.
It's quite a shame it has to end.
Being obliged to stop
witnessing the world...
that's my fatal disappointment.
Are you afraid to die?
Of course.
Aren't you?
Me?
I'm afraid I don't exist.
If you're here, you exist.
But I fear I might not be here.
Do you understand?
I don't know
what's happening to me lately.
No one can explain it.
It's like I'm seeing clearly
for the first time in my life.
And I'm realizing I don't really exist.
It's dizzying.
I can't function anymore.
I'm afraid.
I'm afraid of not being here right now.
Here in your room,
I'm afraid I don't exist.
I don't even know how I got here.
Through the door.
You like making fun of people, don't you?
I like making fun of myself too.
Do you think you'll die laughing?
Do you think you'll be happy?
No. I just hope I'm still lucid.
You don't have to do this.
Yes, I do.
It won't bring you peace.
Are you afraid?
Yes.
Good. You're lucid.
Can't it wait just a while longer?
No.
I can't move.
That's normal.
I'm sorry,
but you're going to take me seriously.
- Now that's something.
- It's really something, huh?
It's unbelievable!
It's really flattering.
It's so hideous!
Well, thank you, my love.
Look how beautiful I am.
It's gross!
Go on.
Go on!
- How's everyone doing?
- Good.
I can't hear you.
How's everyone doing?
Good!
It was during the war.
That memory of Samuel and me
goofing off in front of the mirror
happened during the war.
I think one of the periods in my life
I laughed most
was during the war.
I've never told anyone that.
I could never admit it out loud.
"During the war, I laughed a lot."
But it's true.
Even if it was hard sometimes,
but whenever we weren't
directly confronted with the war,
we found ways to laugh.
Not necessarily more or less than usual.
We just...
kept on living.
Of course, when you find out
your mom was publicly hung
for trying to stage a revolt,
you laugh a little less.
But at least she died
setting an example.
People said:
"It's the most beautiful day of her life.
"She's going to meet God."
That's a beautiful day?
A bit of sunshine and some frozen yogurt
is good enough for me!
So many people were dying back then,
I'm sure she didn't meet God himself.
More like his administrative assistant.
"God welcomes you.
"Here's your name tag,
a map to the pool
"and a voucher
for Cana restaurant,
"where we multiply food
faster than the competition."
By show of applause,
who here believes in God?
Personally, I'm not so sure.
I have a hard time believing
in a spiritual entity
who only shares his revelations
with those given to megalomania.
I think that, overall...
accepting that life is meaningless
is one of the hardest things to do.
That and moving a fridge
up a Montreal staircase.
But at least a fridge is useful.
Accepting that life is meaningless
doesn't even keep milk from spoiling.
Although if God existed...
I could at least hope
to see Samuel again.
'Cause the last time we saw each other,
we didn't talk much.
A lot was going through our heads.
For me, it was terror.
Him, a bullet.
Both our minds were elsewhere.
Then dead or alive,
they buried us, and that was it!
But at least they were composting!
It was an eco-friendly massacre.
They even donated our clothes
to the poor.
You could tell that army truly cared
about the lives of others.
It's stressful, being buried alive.
Poor visibility, restricted breathing,
certainty you're about to die...
I don't recommend it
for your next vacation.
Try out a new fitness trail instead.
You also wonder if there's any point
in trying to escape.
Or if you should just swallow
a mouthful of dirt.
And you come close to doing it
a few times.
There are moments where you go: "OK...
"Enough. I'm done."
But then you remember you have
a sportswear gift certificate.
Hiking shoes are expensive!
It took me...
It took me a long time...
before even considering...
thinking about loving someone
other than Samuel.
But we had grown very distant.
We weren't communicating.
Our sex life was not the same.
When I met Gabriel...
it was the first time
I had that feeling again.
That same kind of day-to-day happiness.
Plus, Gabriel still had the back
of his neck.
Samuel...
Samuel is slowly fading away.
It's sad.
I hate that it's an ordinary injustice
for people who die too young.
I think about everything
that's happened since the war.
I've been through so much.
Samuel will never get to
experience those things,
with or without me.
That's not the point.
He's stuck somewhere in the past...
and I'm forgetting him
more and more each day.
There are very few people...
in my life...
who have meant as much to me
as Samuel.
And I hardly ever think about
him anymore.
Once in a while, when the war comes up
or when I'm alone.
It can be hard to be alone.
And sometimes, you need to take
a moment to relive painful memories
before you keep going.
It even helps a little.
Little "solo-maso" moments.
And as much as I try not to...
I can't help thinking about
what I would do
if I got to see Samuel again.
If he was here right now in front of me.
I honestly think that
I'd hug him so hard
that he'd die a second time.
But we'll never know.
Samuel is fading, and that's that.
Today, he's less important...
in my daily life...
than my shopping list.
When I think about it...
I freeze.
Because life is so beautiful...
and its meaning, so absurd...
it's so dumb...
that you can't help but cry laughing.
So what do we do?
We laugh or we cry?
Do we laugh or do we cry?
Hey.
Hey.
It's too bad she left us
during your weekend.
It's OK.
Do you know how she died?
She had a heart attack in her sleep.
She didn't feel a thing.
OK.
- Need a hand?
- No, I'm almost done.
I'll go make my rounds, then.
You're a damn bastard.
- Oh, Valérie.
- Hi.
I'm glad you came.
- My condolences.
- Thank you.
You really were her favorite.
Thank you.
My boyfriend, Gabriel.
- Nice to meet you.
- Her daughter.
- My condolences.
- Thank you.
How are you holding up?
I'm OK.
It's been an emotional couple of days,
but I'm OK.
Mom took care of everything,
so that helps.
You know how she is.
She wanted to save us the trouble.
I'm not surprised.
You were amazing with her.
She was so afraid of going to a home
and being forced to knit
while watching figure skating.
I think she would have strangled
someone.
Definitely.
She was so lucky to have you.
Thanks. I was the lucky one.
- Thanks for being here.
- It's our pleasure.
Hi, Valérie.
My condolences.
Thanks for being here.
Madam?
Hello.
You knew my mother?
Yes.
- My condolences.
- Thank you.
My condolences.
- You OK?
- Yeah, yeah.
Did you talk to the notary?
Yeah, I called him earlier.
I think I'm getting a little money
and lots and lots of books.
- It's not surprising.
- No.
And that's fine by me.
My mom always left notes
in her books.
So I'll be able to read them with her.
I'm sure we'll still bicker.
That's for sure.
We'll make room for a nice bookcase?
Of course we will.
Definitely.
If it gets too creepy,
we'll put them in the basement.
- It's gonna be OK.
- I know.
I think I'm hungry.
Want me to get something
at the corner store?
- Do you mind?
- Of course not.
What do you want?
Whatever. A sandwich.
Anything else?
A gross, half-dried-out brownie?
Yes.
- Yes?
- Yeah.
OK. Be right back.
Oh, shit!