Eternity (2016) - full transcript

The story of the women and relationships that define a family across a century.

ETERNITY

Arthur and Julie Bourgeois
had 5 daughters.

Two of them died young.

The other three,
Helene, Henriette and Valentine,

were married properly.

Valentine!

At age 17, Valentine
engaged with Jules,

at the father's request.

After reflections,
the engagement was broken off.

But, Jules was in love
and persistent,

and therefore got his way.



Jules was pure of heart.

Valentine,

who was known to have
the gift of assessing people,

loved him to his dying day,

and hers.

Less than two years
after Louis and Jean,

Adrien arrived.

He was calm and applied,

whereas his brothers were rebellious

and distracted.

In this houseful of men,

Valentine was surprised, sometimes,

imagining a baby girl.

And finally, she came.



They named her Margaux,

after Jules's grandmother.

Valentine loved her like crazy.

This resulted in greater
complicity with Margaux,

the first fruits of a bond
of blood and femininity.

"Later, you'll get married

and have children.

But, nothing will change
the sweetness of being together.

You and me",

thought Valentine.

Snack time, children!

The arrival of Elisabeth
satisfied Valentine even more.

Dad!

Mom!

But, the promised life of Valentine,

where the perfect trajectory
of the early years,

had been slowly breaking down.

Where all that she had

were taken away

and destroyed.

The first unhappiness,

she tasted 3 years before
the end of her marriage.

When the seventh child
lived only one day.

For a few hours,

he was called Etienne.

You will have other children,
Valentine.

Etienne...

We never got to know him.

We didn't even get
a chance to love him.

"Only a man can talk like that,"
she thought.

And she remembered
the waiting in vain,...

the long months of dreams,...

and now that emptiness
in the arms,...

a missing weight.

A hole of warmth, absent.

The conjugal life of
Valentine and Jules

lasted 20 seasons.

Pierre was born...

and Jules died a year later.

His memory was always there.

Everything was engraved with her.

Its vividness would
sometimes turn her pale.

She neither lost the pain
of knowing he was dead,

nor the joy of loving him.

In the affliction of knowing

the ever unfruitful and
deprived of love,...

Valentine recomposed.

She had only her children
to cosset her now.

There were parts of Jules
in each of the children.

Fleetingly, Valentine glimpsed him
through them.

The twins were shy,
as young men without women.

Soon, they would be plucked
and thrown under the ground.

Nobody knew it,
not even them.

Nor Valentine, who would like
to perfect them,

without sensing it was useless,

without knowing that no woman

would have them in their arms.

NOTICE OF DEATH

Valentine never knew
how her sons' faces looked

in death.

Elisabeth,...

Margaux, come here.

Open the gate, Margaux.
Thank you.

I'm such a scatterbrain!

Mother...

Yes, my dear.

And that night,

while keeping lone vigil
over her child,

Valentine had a clear vision of
what was waiting for her.

A very long life,
watching others go,

unable to retain them.

And once again,

she fell asleep unintentionally,

to regain strength,

which she did not want any more,

but which was in her.

You cheated!

Elisabeth!

Mother.

Would it feel good to be
a grandmother?

Is there someone you love?

You know her.

Mathilde!

Yes.

I often let myself wait for this.

Please know that I am very happy.

Do you want to ride a bike with me?

Now?

Yes.

Okay.

Hold my fingers.

Close your eyes.

The engagement was simple and private.

In a strange new way,

the pain of losing a child
pierced through Valentine again.

Mother...

I've made a decision.

I ask you to respect it.

I want to be a nun.

Are you sure?

I'll spend Christmas with you
and then I'll go.

Give it more thought.

Her daughter would not
have any children.

That thought hurt her.

In the room,

only Valentina could understand

that a line of motherhood ended there.

A woman who does not have children

lacks the most devastating thing in life.

Time passed, Margaux did not
change her decision.

A strong, willful and
secretive young woman...

left her loved ones
to enter pure and naked,

in the austerity of her prayer.

She longed to show her daughter
what she was giving up.

To tell her that a man's love
is less distracted than God's love.

Her body made of fruition
and metamorphoses,

became an object of her daydreaming.

She was seing it transform
under her eyes.

While washing it,
dried it and perfumed it,

she felt as if her gestures
now meant something different.

Mathilde wanted to tell Henri

that this moment was
the least important

the easiest.

After all, everything
still remained to be built,

or at least,
not to be destroyed.

She thought about it all...

the nights together,

the lovemaking,

the children that would come,

the meals they would share,

the two of them,

indefinitely face to face,

the women he might desire
who would not be her,

the things she would
dislike about him.

Henri was, however,
a difficult spouse.

He had a passionate,
yet stiff disposition,

combined with the desire
for tranquility,

which, if contradicted,

made him uncivilized
and scathing.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

Henri and Mathilde met with
Gabrielle and Charles every day.

Since they lived
in the same building,

it was not complicated to go up
or down for the daily ritual chat.

Mathilde found a real friend
in Gabrielle.

And Gabrielle responded in
the same strong proportion,

this exclusive bond,

preceded since childhood,

and that demarcated for both of them
the discovery of the sweetness in life.

Their mothers,
who were sisters,

little by little, in widowhood,
they approached one another,

became close again

that they shared the same apartment.

Mathilde, look here!

I found more.

In the name of the Father,

the Son,

of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

Gabrielle gave birth to a girl,

whom they called Solange.

Naturally, Mathilde was
the godmother.

Also pregnant herself,

Mathilde longed to discover
the child she was carrying

as in this baptism,
she held in her arms

her friend's daughter.

Mrs...

Can we baptize her?

Yes.

Marie,...

I baptize you in
the name of the Father,

the Son,

and the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

After delivery,

Mathilde felt as if
she too had been born.

The baby made her,

and gave her a place
in the immensity

of the unknown.

Are you happy?

Yes.

Why do you ask?

Because I'm happy and
I want you to be, too.

The first meeting between
Gabrielle and Charles

is worth describing.

Their marriage had been arranged
and was settled over lunch.

Have faith.

Charles...

He is a young engineer
and quality man.

You will love him.

Do you know why we are here?

Yes.

I know.

And do you approve?

Yes.

Good evening.

Madam and Sir are in the bedroom.

Thank you, Manu.

Yes

Good evening.

No one today knows what
they talked about at the time.

They're all dead now.

But they were together
in the bedroom,

which was unusual for them,

in those days.

I think I will feel destroyed...

by the death of the first person
among those I love.

I do not think so.

After having the fifth child,

Mathilde had a second miscarriage.

But a year later,

to her amazement,

she nursed her first daughter,

Louise.

I'll check back later
to see how he's doing.

Hello, Charles.

Alright, François?

Mother...

She stayed like this

until the dawn became the day.

And as the light
outside bloomed,

She suddenly felt motionless

and heavy.

She knew he would soon
be taken from her,

because his time had come.

François?

François?

For dinner:

- Lettuce cream soup
- Small juice pates

- Portuguese Tornedor

- Stuffed tomatoes

- Crepes with...

Mother?

And then, that's it...

She stood up firmer than before.

And when you bent down
to one of your children,

it was with a grace
that quivered from her wound.

A year later, Margaux died
in her convent cell

of the same meningitis fever
that had taken François.

For Margaux, who had given Him
her youth and life,

God didn't give her the time
to see her mother again.

You know...

at every instant,

I can feel it in my hands

the size of their fragile shoulders,

the thickness of the torsos,
the fragility of the arms.

They are warm and soft as silk.

With their small bodies

and sweetness on the faces,

they're capable of building ideas

to form sentences that delight me.

I know the exact color
of their hair,

the shapes of their bodies,

the tint...

that comprises

their eyes when they're tired.

And every day, my hands touch
the perfect skin they all have.

Mother?

Kids, go wash up.

What's wrong, Gabrielle?

Where's Charles?

Mathilde...

Charles!

Charles!

Charles!

She always knew
they would be separated.

That's why they had never
been away from each other

more than a day of Charles's work.

Which side of bed
do you prefer to sleep in?

On this side.

If you do not mind.

Gabrielle...

I'm not yet ready to say
"I love you".

In fact, you are not
ready to say it either.

For now,...

we are still strangers
to each other.

We will learn.

Love is never a gift.

I know I'm lonely...

and quiet...

and more a dreamer
than most men, I guess.

You may not like
my table manners...

and other thousand pitfalls
that are not always important.

But if I make you a promise...

I will never break it.

You'll find it nice.

I love that great
forehead you have...

and your face that
does not smile much.

I will love you...

when your beauty and
freshness vanish,...

and when other eyes
that look at you now,

no longer look at you.

I will continue to love you...

because I have decided
to do it many years ago.

I'll be by your bedside
to close your eyes.

And you will do the same for me.

Gabrielle, do you want
to be my wife?

Getting away from this marital
heat was difficult.

Neither Henri nor Mathilde
ever urged her to do so.

Not once did they insinuate
him to come home.

"How sweet it was,"

Gabrielle thought.

"How happy they had been."

A few minutes later,

he left the herbarium
to come and hug her.

His heart throbbed with love

and desire.

Once Mathilde recovered
from the birth of Jérôme,

she got pregnant again
with Christian.

This number of months
God has chosen to create a life

passed over her again,

expanding it,

illuminating it,

making it pale.

Mom?

Mom, look!

How nice!
Where did you get it?

From that tree,
it's a green pine cone.

It's like covered with shells.

They will open and
change color, one day.

It's very nice, you should
show it to your father.

It's beautiful.

Mom, do you think
I'll have a little sister?

We'll know soon.

I would like to have
a little sister named Marie.

Do you also want a girl?

However,

despite of this immense family,

and given that she would
soon be 40 years old,

she lost the baby again.

Of course, Gabrielle
never spoke with Henri

of the babies that Mathilde
should stop having.

What right did she have?

Mathilde realized that Gabrielle
and Louise knew,

from the beginning,
it would be a girl,

Marie.

Mathilde said nothing.

That baby was her secret.

"I can not bear to lose her,"

Gabrielle thought.

Suddenly, life seemed
to have immense weight

that she could no longer support.

Everything was dangerous.

Everything was an
endless restart

by which they would be swept.

Marie was born on Good Friday.

Attention!

And Mathilde died the same day.

One...

two...

three.

A few hours after
the first cry of her daughter,

Mathilde gave her last breath.

I would like to see my children.

Guy.

Louise.

Jules.

Nicolas.

Jérôme.

André.

Jean.

Joseph.

I introduce you to Marie,

your little sister.

Come and kiss her.

I have a lock of hair
from each of them.

I would like to take them with me.

Can you take care of that?

Louise.

It's your fault!
I hate you!

Feeling the warmth of
the baby against her chest,

Gabrielle felt she was capable of
taking care of them all.

Of Henri and his children.

To gradually make them
overcome the loss and pain.

♪ The white moon ♪

♪ Shines in the forest ♪

♪ From each branch ♪

♪ Comes a voice ♪

♪ Under the trunks ♪

♪ Oh, beloved ♪

♪ The lake reflects ♪

♪ In its deep mirror ♪

♪ The silhouette ♪

♪ Of the black willow ♪

♪ Where the wind whispers: ♪

♪ "Let us dream," ♪

♪ It's time." ♪

♪ A simple and vast peace ♪

♪ It seems to descend from the firmament ♪

♪ Twinkling in the moonlight ♪

♪ It's the exquisite hour ♪

He would have preferred
to move on alone,

perfecting the children,

preparing them for
the challenges to come.

But, he thought
he was just a man.

I have a complicated
request to ask you.

I know.
The answer is "yes".

You want to?

Isn't it...

a sacrifice?

No, it's not.

Mathilde and Charles
will always be with us.

Yes.

They are here.

Yes.

Children?

You can come.

Solange...

You can sit there.

Jules...

Guillaume... here.

André...

Here, next to Jean.

Nicolas, in the front.

Joseph...

Here.

Louise?

Clothilde, Ali, there.

Yves,... Jérôme,...

at the end.

And little Guy...

Wait!
In your chair.

Solange and Jules
lost their reasons.

They were cousins
because of their mothers,

they shared the same roof,

and were at the age of disobedience.

Valentine, who almost tired
of life without Jules

and death that did not want her,

would finally become what
I expected...

Dead...

and in love.

For the first time,
her sleep was agitated

and the pillow was soaked
under her head.

She was sleeping soundly
when her heart abandoned her,

alone in her bed.

Arthur and Julie Bourgeois
had five daughters.

Two of them died young.

The other three,
Helene, Henriette and Valentine,

were married properly.

Their offsprings were
18 grandchildren.

43 in the next generation,

154 in the third generation,

231 in the fourth,

and today,

are already 169 in the fifth generation.

To my children,
LANG KHE and CAO PHI

ETERNITY