The Noise of Engines (2021) - full transcript

Scene two, take three.

-Set.

Three, two, one. Action!

THE NOISE OF ENGINES

My name is Pierre Fortier.

I started with Canada Customs when I turned 18.

It was my summer job when I was in
university studying business administration,

and then when I graduated I stayed on full time.

I spent 16 years in cargo.

Since 2004, I've been posted to the land border.

They told me this was the
best training for customs agents



but also the most demanding.

I'm expecting to enjoy this,

but I'm also expecting to work hard.

Welcome Pierre.

My name is Myriam Jean.

I've been with Sylvie at the
airport for the last 17 years.

I've never held a loaded weapon in my life.

I have no expectations about this course.

I'm Michael Duchesne.

I've worked at the land border for 8 years.

At home I have several
guns of different calibres,

so I'm pretty comfortable with guns.

I've got a 12-gauge, a 22-gauge, a .30-06.

In handguns, I have a 38mm, 9mm,



among others.

Hello, my name is Laura Girouard.

I'm a university student in history

and I work for Customs part-time.

When I started five years ago,

they gave me a shirt,
pants, a stamp for passports

and that was it.

Now I have a bullet-proof vest,

pepper spray and a defensive
baton hanging from my belt.

I'm a tax collector dressed up like a soldier.

Now they're asking me to fire a gun.

I really don't identify with
the new values at Customs,

or those of the current government,

but I'm here to pay for my studies

so I'll do what my employer asks me to do.

Okay,

I'm not here to talk about politics.

I'm here to do a job.

But we can agree that
things have changed, eh?

Before we'd never had
two towers fall in New York.

Now, we know what that's like.

We hear about it all over the world.

Terrorist attacks have become

part of our everyday life.

Here at the Canada Customs,

we're just adjusting
to what's going on in the world.

The world goes crackpot,

so we adjust.

Us here, it's not our
intention to make anybody fail.

All we want to do

is give you the resources you need
to successfully complete your training.

We know that arming
customs agents is new and

that it's not easy training.

But if you practice

and work hard to improve
on the pointers your instructors will give you,

there's no one here who
isn't capable of succeeding.

You are all customs officers

and we're convinced that
with the training you will receive

you'll be able to leave here in 4 weeks

with big smiles on your faces.

I am a customs agent
and you are under arrest.

Put your arms out
perpendicular to your body.

Turn around.

What?

Me under arrest?

Come tell me that to my face
Mr. Customs man!

C'mon!

Come tell me that to my face!

Come arrest me you little police wannabe!

Knife! Knife! Knife!

Drop the knife right now.

Drop the knife or I'm going to shoot you.

Drop the knife.
There's a warrant for your arrest.

I am a peace officer,
I have my gun pointed at you

and I'm going to shoot.

Okay, okay. Fine.
I'm dropping my knife.

But I'm not going to be
arrested by some little rent-a-cop.

Come on!

Come on!

Come at me! Get over here!

-Back away, ma'am. You are under arrest.

Back up now.

-That's all right.

I'm bending down.

I'm picking up my knife

and I'm coming at you.
-Bang! Bang! Bang!

Good,

okay,

good,

yes,

good.

Reholster.

And how did you react?

I backed up behind my cover

to protect myself and give me

some distance from the subject.

At the same time, I took out

my gun and started firing.

The man was shot in the torso

and quickly fell to the ground.

I advanced on the subject

to grab his gun.

I emptied the magazine

before putting it in my pants pocket.

Then I used my walkie

to call the ambulance

because the man had bullet wounds.

I handcuffed the subject

and waited for help.

End of report.

Okay.

Good work, Laura.

You were quick to react

when the man took out his weapon

and you used the cover behind you very well.

I don't have much else to say.

It went well.

I would just give you one piece of advice

for your mask that fogged up

during the exercise.

What happened is simple:

you're nervous in the simulation,

you're not used to the mask,

so it gets fogged up really fast.

If you don't want that to happen again,

you need to get used to the mask.

When you're alone in your dorm at night,

wear your mask.

We told you this.

Wear it when you're watching tv.

Get used to forgetting it's there.

Okay?

Yes.

Okay, thanks.

...that you had a consensual sexual
encounter with Ms. Laura Girouard,

and that, during this encounter,
Ms. Girouard was wearing her protective mask

and then, at some point,
you realized that she was no longer conscious.

So, seeing that you started CPR
and Ms. Girouard immediately

regained consciousness.

Then, paramedics arrived
and took charge of Ms. Girouard.

It's at this point that
we became aware of the situation

from the paramedic's report.

Is that right?

Do you confirm that
this is what took place?

Regarding your reaction,
you were exemplary, Alexandre.

Ms. Girouard had a
serious asthma attack

and that's why
she stopped breathing.

Your instant reaction probably,
or certainly, saved her life.

You spent the night at her bedside,
and she is now in stable condition.

She is expected to be
discharged in the next 24 hours.

Ms. Girouard has some bruised ribs

because of the cardiac massage.

But that is normal.

We're told that this is
always the case with CPR.

Now,

as the director of this college,

I would like some reassurance as
to your state of mental and physical health.

The mask and the leather gloves

Ms. Girouard was wearing
during your sexual encounter

are objects frequently used in
sexual practices in fetish and BDSM circles.

Your work

as a firearms instructor

demands mental equilibrium at all times,

and for this reason I
requested that we shine

a light on any potential
sexual deviance on your part.

An internal investigation,

not exhaustive, was conducted

to learn more about
your sexual practices.

The results allowed us to reject
the hypothesis of sexual deviance

because none of the
sexual partners we spoke with

mentioned any
unusual sexual practices.

It's reasonable to say
that one time is not customary,

and that exploring one's
sexuality is part of the

natural development
of all human beings.

For example,

my husband and I

have an open relationship.

Sex is one of the
great pleasures of life and

one way to fully enjoy
these pleasures is to open

oneself to the different experiences

others can bring us.

No,

I'm not interested in sleeping with you

and husband, Madame Director.

This investigation revealed

that you had a minimum
of 7 sexual partners

in the year at the college.

Without being alarmist,

that number demonstrates a certain
interest in the pleasures of the flesh,

but also,

which seems to me more problematic,

compulsive sexual behaviour.

This sexual behaviour could eventually

have negative social effects.

Last night's events are probably

the first manifestation of your hypersexuality.

As a preventive measure,

you are being placed on leave
without pay for a period of 10 days

in order for you to correct
your inappropriate sexual conduct.

Seven sexual partners

in one year,

leather gloves

and a helmet

make me a sex addict.

-Inappropriate sexu-
-Inappropriate sexual conduct, yes.

You understand, ma'am,

that everyone is screwing
everyone in this college?

There's nothing else to do.

We're stuck in the middle
of nowhere all alone.

So yeah,

Laura and I were sleeping together.

Everyone knew.

But since it's written
on a piece of paper

and because you
had to read that paper

because it's in your job description...

I knew coming here this
morning that I'd be punished.

And I know it's a delicate subject

and that I'm not supposed
to sleep with a student...

But now you're telling me

you conducted an investigation

on my sexual conduct

and concluded I have too much sex.

I don't know but
your actions seems

really inappropriate,
don't you think?

Mr. St-Germain will
escort you to the station

so you can go home and get better.

You'll take the time
to read and fill out this guide

provided by human resources.

That's it, Vial.

Alexandre?

Hi mom.

What are you doing here?

I'm on vacation.

I thought I'd spend
a little time here.

That's nice sweetie.

Are you hungry?

Do you want something to eat?

Go back to sleep, mom.

Okay.

Good night.

Mom!

What did you do to my room?!?

What?

It's my house and
I made it the way I like it.

Yeah, but it's my room.

I hate it, mom.

It's as if I was Jesus Christ.

Well, you're my only son

and I'm proud of my son.

This is my house.

Okay, go back to bed, mom.

Good night.

Yes, mom?

Oh, nothing.

Nothing?

Perfect.

But how is it that you're on vacation?

I had two training sessions finish on Monday

and the next classes don't start
before the end of next week.

I just decided not to go in.

Someone's going to cover for me.

You didn't give me any warning and

you show up in the middle of the night...

I knew that you'd be here.

I could have been gone.

No, I knew you'd be here.

You have work to do.

I could have decided to leave.

Did you lose your job?

Mom!

You can tell me.

You don't have to be embarrassed.

It could happen to anyone.

Losing your job is a normal part of life.

No, mom! I didn't lose my job.

No one in the government
ever loses their job.

If you're on time,

pay for your coffee every day
and don't steal from the cafeteria,

there's no chance of being fired.

I was just asking.

Sure, but anyway
I'm not going to spend

the rest of my life
being a customs officer.

Maybe it would be a good
thing for me to finally get canned.

Don't talk to me like that.

I'm your mother.

Look mom,

I'm on vacation

for 14 days

to visit my mother.

It's been a long time
and I'm happy to see you.

But you're still taking your
vacation at Christmas, right?

Mom!

What is it this morning?

You're interrogating me.

I've been awake for five minutes.

Five minutes!

Give me a break!

I'm going to be here for two weeks.

I'm not going to run away.

You'll have all day

to ask all your little questions.

But right now, that's enough.

I'm already fed up.

I know we have a lot to say to each other,

and I'm happy you want

to tell me all your stories,

but for right now,

this morning, I've had enough.
I need some time to breathe.

Can I have five minutes to breathe, mom?

Is that okay?

I don't like seeing you like this.

It reminds me of your grandfather.

I don't want you to become like him.

Mr. Mastrogiuseppe,
I'm Detective-Sergeant Letellier

from the Quebec police

and this here is Sgt. Rémillard.

I have to say that I'm a surprised
to find you here, Mr. Mastrogiuseppe.

Did you move back in town recently?

I'm a firearms instructor
for Canada Customs.

I live in residence at the college,

but I'm on vacation

and I decided to come give
my mother a hand at the dragway.

Well,

I'll explain the reason

for our presence here today.

Last Sunday,

at the 11 o'clock mass in town,

an individual or group entered
the church and stuck a series

of hand-made drawings
to the inside door.

These drawings contained

close-ups of sex acts, masturbation,

anal and vaginal penetration,

between men and women,

between homosexuals.

As these drawings were stuck to the
door where people exit the church,

they were seen be the entire congregation,

and you can understand that many were

extremely offended by
these explicit drawings.

Sure.

I'd bet it was some neighbourhood kids

sick of living in a super boring town.

They should get in trouble,

but to get the police involved seems

pretty ridiculous.

You understand,
Mr. Mastrogiuseppe, that anyone

who commits this type
of infraction can be found guilty

of a criminal act punishable
by up to two years in prison.

What was done here is not a joke.

Okay, Mister Sergeant of the Quebec police.

I really didn't think I'd find you here,

but since you are here, perhaps you
might be able to shed some light on our...

on the issue we're having in town.

Here at the police we've been focusing

on the pictures that were found in the church.

It turns out that several people

recognize you in these drawings.

What's more, you're the only person

who has been identified in them.

It's a coincidence.

I don't know why my face is in them.

Indeed, and is it an even
greater coincidence that you,

Alexandre Mastrogiuseppe,
are here at this exact time

when the drawings appeared in town?

Sergeant,

I might be in the drawings,

but I have have nothing to do with them.

Let's make this clear.

The fact that my face shows up
doesn't mean that you can

pin these fucking
cartoons on me.

So pay very close attention
to what you're saying,

because right now
your logic seems fucking ridiculous.

No problem, Mr. Mastrogiuseppe.

Sgt. Rémillard and I
will continue our investigation.

You have no intention
of cooperating? Fine.

In any case, we, at the
police, know how to do our job.

Alex,

everything okay?

It's fine.

This document, Mr. Mastrogiuseppe,

is for you to complete

to aid us in our investigation.

I'd advise you to
begin by filling out the names

and phone numbers of all the people

you've ever had a sexual encounter with.

You can also indicate the names

of anyone who might have wanted

to have sex with you.

You'll see, the document is well done.

At the end, there's a
section with questions

that will help you

figure out any other information

that could be useful for our investigation.

I would appreciate it, gentlemen,

if we could avoid
discussing this with my mother.

What we have discussed
here will remain confidential.

Neither your mother
nor anyone else

needs to know anything
about this investigation.

That being said,

word spreads pretty quickly.

We don't have much
control over that.

Thank you very much,

Mr. Mastrogiuseppe, for this discussion.

What did the pigs want?

The rich people from the golf course

complained to the police again.

As usual.

It's a race track.

If they find it too loud,
the fuckers can move away.

Excuse me!

Excuse me!

Why isn't anyone racing?

A car punctured its oil pan, ma'am.

They're cleaning it up,

but it'll be another 45 minutes to an hour.

Pardon me?

I thought that in French

you say ma'am for a woman...

You know, an old lady.

I'm surprised you'd call

someone like me "ma'am."

No, you're right.

I should have said "miss."

That would have been more correct.

Yes,

I like "miss" better.

Now, you will show me your town?

Sorry?

Yes, I would like to see this place.

And all around the town.

You know, I came here for the time trials

and now there are no time trials.

I'm here,

I come from Hafnarfjdördur, Iceland

to race and now

I'm waiting and doing nothing.

You are also waiting.

So,

you will show me

this place where you live.

I'm Aðalbjörg.

Alexandre.

Hey, wait!

Stop!

Look, I gotta tell you
that there's nothing here.

There are farms,

fields,

and we're 45 kilometers from Montreal.

With the expansion of the suburbs,

it's become a place to raise a family

while working in the city.

People haven't really chosen to live here.

It's their bank account that tells them

this is all they can afford.

It's good to hear you talk about your home.

It's nice for the neighbours.

Normally my town doesn't

really mean anything to anyone.

But

when you meet a Quebecker

for the first time in your life

and you say that you come from here,

there's a good chance they've heard of it

because of the race track.

Even if they've never set foot here.

And this race track is yours.

Alexandre, you're king of the town.

The track is my mother's.

You're the prince of the town.

It's kind of like a Monopoly board here.

There are 2-3 families who own

the main businesses in town.

And me,

I'm part of the race track family.

I would like to see this place

and this Monopoly game.

Maybe it sounds
interesting if you put it like that,

but there's really nothing to see.

We'll find something.

So, this is the town's refinery.

A pretty interesting spot,

I guess.

This tower is impressive.

It's the only place in North America

that transforms naphthalene into moth balls.

People often say
my town smells like mothballs.

It's strange that urban planners

would choose to put this factory

in the middle of a residential neighbourhood.

There was no urban planning here.

It's North America.

The new world.

If you have money
and you want to build something,

we have the space for it.

Clearly.

It's definitely a strong odour.

Okay, well...

I didn't know they'd turned this

into a parking lot.

What's the matter?

I used to play baseball

here with my friends when I was a kid.

The kids who played baseball

now drive these trucks.

But where will they play baseball?

Nobody plays baseball anymore.

They probably play footy.

Soccer?

This is the most fertile soil in all of Quebec.

The famous black earth.

The floors of ancient lakes

gave my area some of the highest quality soil.

These fields belonged to my grandfather.

My grandfather's father left Italy

at the beginning of the 20th century

because he knew that he could own

his own land here in America.

My grandfather and his brother

also became farmers,

but no one kept it up.

The American dream ended there.

You are Italian?

My family name,

but not much else.

We're all a little from somewhere else, here.

We don't often have to look

very far back to know where we come from.

HERE LIES NARCISSE GRÉGOIRE
PATRIOT 1812-1838

This was my

great-great-great-grandfather's cousin,

on my mother's side.

He was part of a revolutionary group

called Les Patriotes.

Les Patriotes who died in combat

were excommunicated and

no longer had the right to be buried

in the cemetery with the other Christians.

People here speak French

because at first it was a French colony.

The British took control in the 18th century,

but it didn't stop there.

Les Patriotes rebelled in the hope

of gaining independence,

but those who spoke English

always gained the upper hand.

I like remembering

that on November 4, 1838,

Robert Nelson,

the leader of the
Republic of Lower Canada,

was here, in my
town, with his band of

Hunter Brothers armed with 250 rifles

and with revolution in their hearts...

Not in Montreal.

Not in Quebec City. Not in Laval.

Here.

In my hometown.

That's something.

But

nowadays when people think of my hometown,

they think of a racetrack.

That's nice,

but I'd prefer if people could
have this historic day in mind.

It is something to remember.

Amen.

Pronounced with an English accent?

On the grave of an excommunicated patriot.

That's in poor taste.

Indeed.

This is for you.

You're not coming to race?

No,

the car needs to be tuned.

Okay...

bye.

Yes,

we'll see each other again.

Mom!

Mom!

Mom!

Oh my god, Alexandre, come see!

It's your godfather Jean-Pierre's wedding.

My god, what we wore back then!

Come see!

I don't care, mom.

But come see his old mustache.

I already saw it.

Hello?

Hello.

Hello Alexandre.

I hope you are well.

Now you have to listen to my voice

and do exactly as it says.

First,

you will quietly leave
your mother's basement.

It's dusty and it isn't very clean.

Like your godfather's old mustache.

Sorry, but your godfather wasn't the cleanest.

Once you leave the house,

you will walk north

and down near l'Acadie river.

Take the glass bottle

stuck in the roots of the tree.

Fill it with river water.

Save this water.

It will be useful later.

Walk along the train tracks.

It will be a long walk.

You will have much further to go.

Further?

Farther?

You will go further?

You will go farther?

Are you supposed to say
"You will have further to go?"

or "farther to go?"

Alexandre, you know that

my first language is Icelandic

and that I learned French

in high school?

I had a French teacher

who demanded a lot of her students

and we learned the language well.

She was a woman
who really loved French

and she showed us the films

of Louis de Funès.

Watching movies is a really

good way to learn a foreign language.

After Louis de Funès,

I really got into
French New Wave cinema.

From Quebec,

I really enjoy the filmmaker, André Forcier.

I have my favourite lines from his films

and the one I like most is

"Damn, the inn's
garbage bins smell like love."

I find this line has a beautiful melancholy.

And you, Alexandre?

Do you have a favourite André Forcier film?

French is a difficult language.

But it isn't hard for me to learn languages.

I'm curious about languages

and I studied them in university.

Since I already spoke Icelandic,

English,

and French,

it was a good subject for me.

But I only did one year of university.

I tried learning Ukrainian,

but I dropped out of school to race.

That's it.

I'm good at racing

and languages.

That's everything.

I can't do math,

or footy,

or music... I don't know.

Maybe I'm lazy or selfish.

I do what I like.

Once you're near the little fire,

you can sprinkle it with the river water

to lower the flame.

A light gray smoke will appear.

Hop!

My father was a drag racer in his youth.

In Hafnarjördur,

a lot of racecar drivers

train on the closed circuit.

It's the Formula 1 model.

But my father would only train

on the drag strip.

He says

he doesn't want to slow down

when he sees the curves.

He's the one who passed on

his passion for speed

and I'm always very happy

when I drag race.

It might seem strange,

but when I close my eyes

and smell burnt tires,

I know that I'm at the racetrack

and I feel good.

When I close my eyes

and I hear the noise of engines accelerating,

I feel at home.

In my hometown.

It's cool that you're a racecar driver.

Your father was also a driver.

It's normal to follow in the footsteps

of those who came before us.

It's not a weakness of spirit.

Yes,

I think it's a pretty traditional path.

You also follow your family's path.

And to my question, what's your answer?

I don't have a favourite André Forcier film.

I know. It's difficult to choose.

I've never seen any.

I've never heard of him.

You're lucky, little Alexandre.

I would like to be able to see

André Forcier's films again for the first time.

Mr. Mastrogiuseppe!

Mr. Mastrogiuseppe!

Mr. Mastrogiuseppe.
I was pretty surprised

when I saw you at
the racetrack the other day,

but I'm a lot less surprised
to run into you again so soon...

If my mother is starring in
a new series of cartoons,

I don't want to see any
more of your smut, fellas.

Actually,
there is a new series of drawings.

Congratulations.
You've got a knack for it.

But rest assured,

you're still the big star of these art works.

The investigation is moving forward...

How nice.

I'm happy for you, Sergeant.

That means you're doing your job.

Let me be frank with you, Alexandre.

We're at the point of no return.

From our side, we've got some
information that's rather "problematic" for you...

It's important for you to understand
that if after our last conversation,

you've thought about it and that
there was something you wanted to tell us

or that you neglected to share,

that now is your last and only chance

to let us know.

With what we know,

some heavy repressive measures
could be brought to bear on you

should you once more refuse
to cooperate with our investigation.

I didn't forget anything

and I won't be
intimidated by your threats.

I already told you

that I have nothing
to do with these drawings,

and if you really think
that you can pin this on me

for the pathetic reason
that my face is in them,

then you're fucking
kidding yourselves.

We've looked into you since our

chance encounter the other day.

First, we learned that you
have been a customs officer

since the age of 18
and for the last two years

you've worked as
a firearms instructor.

However, we found it
less of a "coincidence"

when we learned that
you aren't actually on vacation

like you told us.

Not only were you
suspended by your employer,

but the reason for this suspension was,

according to what we were told,

"inappropriate sexual conduct".

Inappropriate sexual conduct on one hand,

and on the other,

a series of sexually explicit drawings
putting you at centre stage.

And this, Mr. Mastrogiuseppe,

you will again say is a coincidence?

I didn't tell you
because it's my personal life.

It's not exactly something
I'm shouting from the rooftops,

just like I didn't tell
my mother when I arrived.

Imagine,

"Hey, mom,

I'm back,

and by the way,

at work they think I'm
whipping my dick out left and right

and sticking it in any hole I can find."

Yeah, you're right.

I don't know why
I wouldn't have mentioned it.

Okay.

And me, the investigator of this file,

I'm supposed to just believe you?

And think that a
sex-obsessed customs agent

and a bunch of drawings in which
he's screwing anything that moves

have nothing to do with each other?

I gotta say,

I'd be pretty damn incompetent
if that was my reasoning,

and you must think the police
are a bunch of deluded wackos.

You do what you want.

You think you're so clever.

You don't want to cooperate.

But when the director of the college
asked why I was calling about you,

I kept my mouth shut.

I didn't say anything.

Out of respect for you,

I didn't once open my trap
about what's been going on in town

since you arrived.

Let me tell you that she would
certainly have been interested

to learn that her young
sex addict was also appearing

in a bunch of
drawings with his dick out.

But I didn't say anything
because I was thinking of you

and your career.

Maybe I'm old school,

but I still believe in respect
between the different groups

who uphold the law.

We'll never be popular with civilians.

It's funny, because
we're always the first ones

to save them from their own shit.

But we'll never get

any gratitude from those people.

So that's why guys like you and me
need to help each other when we can,

but above all,

show each other mutual respect.

They're pictures of me
penetrating other men.

Yes.

Look closer and tell me if you
recognize anyone else this time.

It's your colleague I'm penetrating.

Yes.

Yes, that's right.
My colleague, Sgt. Rémillard,

has been drawn
getting fucked in the ass by you.

And the other
person getting it is me.

It's me you're sticking
in the ass, you little shit.

You, you're getting a kick out of this.

You think you're real funny

and that nothing can touch you.

Well, let me tell you,

this is the last time that your drawings

are going to piss off

the people in my town.

You police officers really

are a bunch of assholes.

Here.

It's your tip.

I'd rather not touch

your dirty money, you perv.

Mr. Mastrogiuseppe,

how are you this morning?

Couldn't be better.

I'm concerned about your health,

Mastrogiuseppe.

In fact,
that's the reason for my visit.

Can you tell me

how many sexual encounters

you've had since your arrival?

I don't want to talk about it.

Answer, Mastrogiuseppe.

My authority compels you.

I haven't slept with anyone here.

Have you had frequent urges?

Normal.

Are you craving something new?

An encounter with a woman

is what for you?

Stressful or always magical?

Neither.

Have you ever made love

with a married couple?

No.

I can sense that you're curious.

You'd like to explore the concept

and hope that we can

discuss it some more.

No, I don't want to talk
about that, Madame Director.

You should know, Alexandre,

that your future

with the Canada Customs is at risk.

I have confidence in you,

but your actions will be evaluated

and your next decisions could have

important repercussions on your

eventual return to work.

I'm staying at the
motel with the orange roof.

Room 8.

Drop by and see me tonight.

It's me.

I burnt the kleinas.

I'm so disappointed, Alexandre.

The doughnuts were for you.

Hey, no.

I'm sure they're still good.

I'm so sorry.

I really wanted you to taste kleinas.

They're an Icelandic specialty.

It's okay,

we can use them as hockey pucks.

You know where we are, right?

Yes.

It's the basement at your grandparents'.

This is where you celebrated Christmas.

It's crazy how it hasn't changed.

It's true.

It goes back to the time

when people didn't have

tvs in their basements.

My grandparents moved into town

after they sold their farm.

That's when they bought

the race track.

Yes. Drag racing was

my grandfather's dream.

It definitely wasn't my mother's.

You know I don't work
at the race track, eh?

Yes, you work at the track, Alexandre.

No,

I work at the Canada Customs college,

training customs officers to carry firearms.

When I was a teenager

I worked at the track with my mother,

but at 18 she said

I should try something else.

That I don't need to stick

to the family business.

I actually liked working at the track,

but it also seemed important

to see something else.

But,

working for customs

seems terribly dull as a job.

See, I come from a small town

15 minutes away from the border.

There aren't many summer jobs

for students here.

There are two choices:

either you work at the zoo

or the border.

My cousin got hired by the zoo,

and I got picked by the border.

On the first day of training,

I asked the person next to me

what exactly our job was.

I thought I'd been hired

to be a clerk

or someone's assistant.

My future colleague told me

that I was actually going

to be a customs agent,

that I was going to search cars

and collect taxes.

Right away I thought I
should run the hell out of there.

I didn't want to be a customs agent

because enforcing respect for the law

was never something that interested me.

There are kids who dream

of becoming police officers

so they can arrest criminals.

That's their thing,

but even when I was a kid,

guns and beating people
never appealed to me.

How long have you been away?

It's been two days.

I was placed in a group
with 3 other trainees.

I had to practice being the agent

questioning people entering Canada.

I had to learn the usual questions,

ask for passports...

Where do you live?

What are you bringing into Canada?

And then I needed to decide

whether to refer travelers to be searched.

I was stupefied to discover that despite
the fact that I possessed basically none

of the natural aptitudes
needed to be a customs agent,

it had somehow been possible to
train me to successfully do work

that was completely
contrary to my values.

At the time I was studying
film and literature in university.

My university life had
nothing to do with customs,

but the regulars at work
were also people who came

from all different walks of life.

One colleague who studied law

told me that when he was a student,

he and his roommate were so poor
that they spent a whole year eating

nothing but mac and cheese.

At the end of the year,

they put all their savings
together and bought a chocolate bar.

Apparently, it was the best
chocolate he'd ever had in his life.

I also got along with an
agent who'd studied journalism.

She had been a columnist
for the university newspaper

and was passionate about crosswords.

There was the one who
always talked to me about sports:

hockey and American football.

I didn't know anything about football,

but it made him so
happy to talk to me about it

that I pretended that I did.

He was a walking sports encyclopedia.

I wonder what he's doing
now that he's retired.

He must be memorizing every stat

of every player

of every team

of every league and university

of every year.

Actually, I wasn't that different from him.

I was just an ordinary guy,

and like him,
I was a student who had been trained

to be a customs agent because
I grew up two steps away

from the border between
Canada and the United States.

A right-wing government

came into power

and they required that from

now on all customs agents be armed.

So they made me take firearms

training in order to keep my student job.

That's what I did.

And when I finished,

they offered to make me a firearms

instructor at the college.

I accepted the job

because it allowed me

to leave my small town.

I've been doing
this for two years,

and just like my very first
days working for customs,

it's obvious to me that
I'm not the right person for the job.

I lied to you when I said

I didn't know the filmmaker, André Forcier.

Yes, I knew that you
knew the films of André Forcier.

I watched practically all of his work

to write a paper in university

on his film "Kalamazoo."

I lied because it allowed you

to see me as someone who

just works at the drag strip.

With just cars,

smoke,

and races.

Without having to explain anything

that would have required me

to admit to you the
uncomfortable presence

of customs in my life.

In the eyes of one person,

I could be who I really wanted to be.

It's been two years

since I've set foot here.

Now I realize

how much I've missed it.

This is where I belong.

I won't be going back to customs.

The call of speed and burnt tires.

Maybe.

Hmm.

One,

two,

fifteen,

sixteen,

twenty-five!

I'm in town.

You are no longer in town,
Mastrogiuseppe.

You'll go back
where you came from.

I'm never going
to see your face again.

Things will get
back to normal

here.

THE NOISE OF ENGINES