Magnetic Beats (2021) - full transcript
A kid living in Brittany in the 1980s is called up for military service and drafted to West Berlin.
P4 - (French military slang):
discharged on mental health grounds.
(By extension): idiotic, maladjusted.
That's two million more voters.
It shows
voters are far more likely to vote
when a close result is expected
and when the outcome is decisive.
Look how beautiful it is.
It's my first time eating it.
Here's what he should say:
Love has the Indo-European root "om".
Is that your chat-up line?
- No, listen...
The Indo-European root?
- You know what "om" means?
It means "to fertilise".
I'm not saying fertility means greatness
because no one is great these days.
Not you, but some people are.
It means something wants to escape,
something may happen.
You talking about your sperm?
Let me interrupt. This is Marianne.
Hi, Marianne.
Philou, you already know.
Shall we sit down?
So... Marianne, wasn't it?
Yes.
What are you doing here?
I'm doing a one-year
hairdressing apprenticeship.
You gonna cut his hair?
- No.
No one touches my hair.
Your daughter?
- Yes.
Well done, Jérôme.
Two birds with one stone.
- I'm investing in my future.
Here it is!
In a few seconds you will know
who the next president will be.
Between two clowns,
I'll always choose the Communist.
Shut up.
- I love you too.
It's Sunday 10 May, 1981, the second round
of the presidential election.
This is a decisive moment for us all.
In every boardroom and every household,
people await the result.
Six, five, four,
three, two, one...
François Mitterrand
has been elected President.
Mitterrand! Mitterrand! Mitterrand!
It started just before the election,
which I didn't really care about.
At the time, all I was thinking about
was what we were going to broadcast.
Four, three,
two, one...
Radio Warsaw!
Welcome, everyone!
"Good evening",
as King John Peel would say.
You're listening to Radio Warsaw
and I, as always, am Jérôme.
And, as always,
night follows day
and night means noise.
We love the noise of our friends on acid
from Marquis de Sade,
which is one of the bands
we've got for you tonight.
We'll also have The Sonics,
and their anti-pop mates,
Iggy Pop and the Stooges,
Red Zebra from Belgium,
and a new gem straight from England,
the four girls from The Au Pairs,
considered as the cousins
of Gang of Four.
But before all that...
With the election coming up,
here's a little joy
in this world of division,
with Joy Division
and the voice of Ian Curtis.
My loves, my darlings,
my fools, my lost souls,
tonight we're sharing with you
a bootleg recording of Joy Division's
last concert on 2 May 1980,
in the greyness
of the University of Birmingham.
The last cry of this angel
who was called to heaven
and left us with the feeling
of having lost a god.
At the dawn of a decade
which should change everything
but will change nothing at all,
"Here are the young men,
the weight on their shoulders.
Here are the young men,
where have they been?"
I never could talk into a microphone.
You were the voice.
I just pressed the buttons.
I was just your little brother,
and that suited me fine.
We were on the radio,
we were outlaws,
and I was so proud.
It's Jérôme, as always, on Radio...
Warsaw!
For glory! For glory!
"We knocked on the doors
of Hell's darker chamber.
Pushed to the limit..."
- No, no, no!
Come down! Stop!
MAGNETIC BEATS
Come on.
Thanks.
You're a really good guy.
You're a nice guy.
You'd make a good soldier.
- Come on.
Open the door, man.
Shut up.
Quiet.
Keep quiet.
Don't worry.
Philippe?
Everything OK?
Yes.
I didn't put on the light
and knocked a picture off.
Where's your brother?
I don't know. Asleep?
I'm sick of this.
Yeah.
Look at you.
Go to bed.
Poor schmuck.
That's enough.
Stop.
"And God said to Noah..."
- Stop, Jérôme.
"'This is the sign of the covenant
between me and all living creatures.'
Noah's sons who came out of the ark
were Shem, Ham and Japheth."
Shut up.
- "Ham was Canaan's father.
"From these three sons of Noah, the earth was populated."
- Enough!
"Noah started to till the soil
and planted a vineyard."
He drank its wine,
became drunk and lay uncovered..."
- That's enough!
"Ham, Canaan's father,
saw his father's nakedness
and told his two brothers outside."
Remember when we were kids,
I was the one who wouldn't shut up?
You were the mysterious one.
You always had your nose in a book.
Mum loved that.
She said you got it from her.
But I never saw her read anything.
Alright?
What are you doing?
I'm off.
Seriously?
You really don't give a shit.
It's three o'clock.
I'm going to see Marianne.
I've got a date.
What time will you be back?
I don't know.
Could you look the other way?
What's the time?
Half past eight.
Shit, Annie didn't wake me.
She must've forgotten.
Very perceptive of you.
What's that?
I'm trying to make something
to put listeners on air.
Yeah?
To ask people who were exempted
from military service how they did it.
I've got my assessment next week.
Sorry.
OK, then...
- Would you do me a favour?
While you're here, we could try a jingle.
I've prepared something
but you've got a nicer voice than me.
OK, but quickly.
What do I say?
- OK...
Say, "P for peace".
"P for peace"?
- Yeah.
P for peace, the letter P.
Sure...
And "P for" is P4. You see?
I see.
OK, say when.
OK. Could you say it
a bit more gently, please?
OK.
Really good.
I'm just going to ask
one last little thing.
Can you just make it a bit more...
like you're whispering?
Perfect. Perfect.
I'm 48 years old.
It's always difficult
to talk about oneself.
But it must be done.
Those tapes...
I can't hear you.
They're... sounds that I record.
Dogs barking, waves, bells,
all sorts of things.
Then I put them on tapes,
with infinite loops and...
Things like this.
I cut them and splice them in
to make infinite loops...
OK.
It's great.
Great.
I've got her things ready.
Her cuddly toy, everything.
And her exercise book.
Yes?
Thanks. I'm not quite with it.
Bye, Rita!
- Bye!
What do we tell Yvette?
That we were at the carousel.
- That's it.
And you're away.
You're on air.
Captain Jérôme.
How are things with Marianne?
Not bad.
François Mitterrand
has been elected President.
We won!
We won!
Mitterrand President!
You OK?
Aren't you pleased?
Giscard in the bin!
I was for Giscard.
Giscard in the bin!
Giscard in the bin!
We won, man.
It's not the Bastille,
but it ain't bad, huh?
Bye!
- Bye, Francis!
Right.
Bye, guys.
The day after Mitterrand's victory,
we heard Bob Marley had died.
I remember what you said to me.
"It's a bad omen, Philou."
Gentlemen,
on behalf of Colonel Clerc,
welcome to your
orientation and selection day.
It'll be a great experience.
Don't miss out.
You're all wondering the same thing.
Am I fit to do national service?
You don't have the answer
and neither do I.
It will depend on tests...
You were all exempted.
Jean-Jacques, Kader, and you, of course.
You said it was a formality.
You act like a moron.
Bichon!
- You talk nonsense.
Tell them you can't stand
living in a group,
that you have dark thoughts.
Bichon, Philippe.
- I told you I couldn't do it.
Don't be scared. Hurry up.
Then you gave me Dad's cardigan.
"Wear that and act the same as usual.
Keep quiet. Never open your mouth."
184.
- You said
I just needed to be myself.
I was already a P4.
Left eye, first line.
The first line. Out loud.
Can you read?
Point out the first letter
on the first line.
Here you go.
Next.
PSYCHIATRIST 1
What's the matter?
There's no need to cry.
You can talk to me.
Have you lost someone close to you?
Is it me?
Do I have an illness?
A serious illness?
Thank you, miss.
I see it says mutism.
Pathological or deliberate.
So what should we put?
You seemed OK just then.
Sorry about our methods.
Just playing the cards we have.
I think I'm in love.
Oh, you're in love.
Yes.
Is it pathological or...
deliberate?
Welcome to the French Army,
Philippe Bichon.
Come on, it's not a death sentence.
There we go. "Fit".
Why did you do it?
You laughed when I said
they were sending me to Berlin.
Like you didn't give a shit.
At least you'll get to visit Germany.
I was terrified.
Hello.
- Hello!
There we go.
- It's perfect. Thank you.
Yvette! Let's go!
OK, wait.
Don't cross the road.
Wait for me.
How's it going here?
I'm sick of the old lady.
Luckily it's only a year.
What will you do afterwards?
Go back to Paris.
The first move.
I'd like her to make the first move.
I know.
Head forward.
It's not the done thing.
But I would like.
For her to come to me.
Because, you see.
I don't dare.
Why are you laughing?
At the foot of the stairs.
Then, like every day.
She'll say to me...
- Hello.
Hello.
Only this time.
She'll take my arm.
See you tonight.
Marianne?
- Yes?
Military service lasts a year.
I just wanted to say...
meeting you was really something.
See you later.
You organised a party,
officially my leaving party.
But it felt like
no one was there for me.
They came for you.
For Marianne.
For everyone who was staying.
Come here!
I'm gonna miss you, Philou.
Gonna miss you, my little shitty bro.
Is that you in the photo with your mother?
No. It's Jérôme.
Do you hate her too?
No.
But she's dating a prick.
Did you get some sleep?
I made some tapes for you.
I found you some German bands.
Nina Hagen, Malaria.
They're great, I love them.
And some others.
Thanks.
Right.
I'm off to work.
Attention!
You're ready.
The invoices are in the drawer.
Mr Barbais's quotation
is in the blue folder.
The light blue one.
The dark blue one is for the insurance.
Yeah.
We'll manage fine without you.
Don't kid yourself.
Have a good time.
I wasn't unhappy
about being different from you.
About not meeting the criteria
of the alpha male.
Alpha males are stupid.
But never mind.
They're resilient.
All the way!
Shut up, I can't concentrate.
Stop it!
Yes!
- Piss off!
We never talked about the army.
Never.
It was as if you didn't want to know.
As if it was too pathetic for you.
I was assigned to the 46th Infantry
Regiment, 2nd Company, 2nd Section.
A real French town by the Berlin Wall.
Right in the middle of the Cold War.
I thought, "Why not?"
Apparently that's how you become a man.
Waiting for time to pass,
a rifle in your hand.
Dressed up as soldiers,
like our fathers before us.
Sorry. You OK?
Philippe.
I can't sleep.
I smoked all my cigarettes.
I hope you like my tape.
I don't know much about music.
I like you.
I really like you.
I'm sending you a kiss.
On your neck.
Is that allowed?
OK.
Send me a message.
AN EYE FOR AN EYE,
A TAPE FOR A TAPE
Marianne.
Marianne.
I read somewhere that the disease of youth
is not knowing what we want,
but wanting it at all costs.
I know what I want.
I hated my voice.
This is impossible.
It was everything inside me.
Shit.
Everything I wanted to hide.
Marianne.
Oh, Ma...
You alright?
Sorry, I...
It's not...
Don't worry, I'm a private too.
No one was here, I thought I could...
You're new.
Aren't you?
- No.
I've been rotting away for months
in the land of muscles.
So I squat here. It's quieter.
What were you doing?
I wanted to record a tape.
For a girl.
Marianne, I presume?
- Yeah.
Carry on, don't mind me.
It's OK...
I'll finish it later.
Do you present the radio club?
"Present" is overstating it.
But it got me a job with the BFBS
and out of a year's worth of push-ups.
The what?
The British Forces Broadcasting Service,
the radio station in the British sector.
Really?
You interested?
- You bet.
It's weird
I never told you about Édouard.
Besides your friends,
Édouard was my first real friend.
Can you lend me your razor?
You're welcome.
THE LITTLE PRINCE
Not very chatty, are you?
You do speak English, right?
Sure.
OK.
I'll introduce you to Danny.
That's him speaking.
This is the army radio station?
Officially, yes.
It's for the troops and expats.
Unofficially, the war's still on,
and it's happening on the air.
If they enjoy English pop over there,
it's like the wall's already down.
So it's propaganda?
They're hardly encouraged to listen to us.
Here's Danny.
How's it going?
Here you are,
in the service of Her Majesty.
I embarrassed you.
No, you didn't embarrass me.
But the idea of the listener
requesting a song for his girl,
I wasn't expecting that.
This is Élysée Hairdressing.
The salon is open Tuesday to Friday,
from 9am to midday and from 4pm to 7pm.
Please leave a message after the tone.
Goodbye and thank you.
Hello, Madame Ponsard.
This is Philippe Bichon.
Could you pass on a message to Marianne?
It's very important.
Could you tell her
to listen to the radio tomorrow at 5.30pm
on 237 kilohertz, not megahertz,
because it's on long wave.
So, 237 kilohertz on long wave tomorrow.
That's all.
Thank you for passing on the message.
Have a nice evening.
Thank you again.
THE FIRST MOVE
That's all I had to say.
But it seemed ridiculous.
Marianne had played her serve
like Chris Evert.
It needed a return worthy of Björn Borg.
The first move of love.
In her bed day after day.
She will reveal her body to me.
And make me regret forever.
That I didn't say before.
The first...
word.
I can't sleep.
I smoked all my cigarettes.
I like you.
I really like you.
Send me a message.
Send me a message.
Philippe, we're 20 years old.
Sorry, but we're
too young for love stories.
Have you read
"Letters to a Young Poet" by Rilke?
No.
- You should.
It's like a roadmap
for 15 to 25 year olds.
He writes:
"Young people are not yet
capable of love: they must learn."
Then comes the amazing part:
"All learning is a time of seclusion,
and therefore loving,
for a long time ahead
and far on into life,
is solitude,
a heightened and deepened solitude."
Wow. That's cheerful.
You want some ecstasy?
Here's yours.
So this is your thing, Philippe?
Well...
Will you do your radio again
after the army?
Yeah, I think so. Why?
Because we could do things.
- Sure.
With the deregulation of radio...
No, it goes further than that.
The sadness of the 1970s,
utopian dreams, it's all over.
The crisis
has thrown us back to reality.
Everyone needs action today.
For the first time ever
everyone's speaking the same language.
The guy in a suit wants long hair.
The guy with long hair wants a suit.
Politics won't change the world.
What's going to change the world
is music, brands, art, adventure.
It's everyday life.
You have a talent, Philippe.
Use it.
When you get back to France,
come to Paris.
My family has assets.
I don't want all that money
to just sit in the bank.
I want to set up a record label,
a radio station, a magazine.
We can do all that together.
Guys, we're about to enter the East.
Checkpoint Charlie.
I need your passports.
Your passports.
I always get the shivers.
Hand over your papers.
Papers, please.
I love the waiting part.
Welcome to the East.
East Berlin.
You'd have given a kidney
and your records to see that.
All the muses of Radio Warsaw were there.
Behind the wall,
with no past and no future.
An inferno of sound and partying.
I'd have loved you to be there with me.
"Did you see that, Philou? You see that?"
Wait.
I feel weird.
Are you feeling bad?
No. That's the point.
Tease!
Everything's fine.
The BFBS agreement
got me a late pass till midnight.
But not to return wasted
in the early hours.
I got two days in the slammer.
Two days when I couldn't call Marianne.
Two days when I only thought of her.
Élysée Hairdressing.
Hello, Madame Ponsard.
It's Philippe Bichon.
Could I speak to Marianne, please?
Hello.
Hello. Hi.
I couldn't call you before. How are you?
Did you get my message?
Did you hear it? Did you listen?
Yeah.
It was a bit weird maybe.
It was amazing.
There wasn't too much interference?
No, really, it was fine.
You're talented, Philippe.
I listened to your tape.
Philippe.
You're in Berlin.
You're doing radio.
You're exactly where you should be.
So don't complicate things.
You're a fool, my dear.
Thanks. Have a good evening.
What are you doing here?
I got leave.
So you decided
to spend it in this shithole?
Can I have one?
- Help yourself.
This is good.
Are you OK?
How's the garage?
What do you care about the garage?
I'm just asking.
You haven't asked since you left.
Neither have you.
No need to justify yourself.
Recently, all your brother does
is piss us off.
Not for much longer. I'm leaving too.
No reason to stay.
Jérôme is all principles and promises.
Until it comes to a free room and board.
That's what I think
of your room and board.
Jérôme, come back!
Come back now!
Come back!
You know where he's going?
You're handsome.
Coming?
Let's smoke a little joint.
Yeah.
Faster!
- Piss off!
Fuck you, soldier!
Faster!
Come on, Philou!
Hey! Stop!
Jérôme, let go!
Jérôme...
Fuck! Can't you hear?
I won.
You idiot.
Stop it.
You OK?
You should've stayed in Berlin.
Wait.
He's not on leave.
He's a deserter.
The Russians are always jamming.
We don't jam anything.
Ever listened to any Russki stuff?
Peace and Progress, that sort of thing?
No one gives a shit about their stuff.
Yet they adore our music.
What can you do?
When you say "our music", "we",
what do you mean?
We, the West.
The free market.
Philippe.
How do I look?
Nice little fur coat?
Look at this.
It's not bad.
How old is Marianne, 80?
Stop it. It's pretty...
You're not shy, you're old-fashioned.
Taxi!
Right, man. This is it.
Don't look like that.
You'll be done soon too.
Yeah...
You'll be fine.
Don't hide away with your girl.
Come see me in Paris.
I'm not sure she's my girl.
"I'm not sure she's my girl."
OK, Frog.
Take care.
French sector, please.
Bichon.
At ease.
Come with me.
Captain?
Where are you taking me?
Your father's on the phone.
Dad?
I kept hearing Dad on the phone,
crying and repeating,
"He's been killed, Philippe.
He's been killed."
You left for Spain.
In Marianne's car.
Without her.
Without me.
You were smashed.
3.7 grams of alcohol in your blood.
You never made it out of the region.
Good as new.
Thank you.
You got more upstairs?
No, this is everything.
Yvette isn't here?
No.
Yvette doesn't like goodbyes.
I'm going to pick up Rita.
- I'll come with you.
Philippe.
You're here but you say nothing.
Ever since you got back.
You're here but you say nothing.
I'm sure you'll still be here in 20 years.
I'll see.
You'll see nothing if you stay here.
Mummy!
Bye.
- Bye, Jean-Jacques.
Bye, little one.
Thanks for everything.
I'll come with you.
You want me to drop you off?
No, Jacquot will take me home.
I'm gonna miss you.
You're a wonderful girl.
Jérôme...
I don't know what to say to you,
but I have to talk to you.
I have to tell you.
It started just before the election,
which I didn't really care about.
At the time, all I was thinking about
was what we were going to broadcast.
I never could talk into a microphone.
You were the voice.
I just pressed the buttons.
I was your little brother.
That suited me just fine.
We were on the radio,
we were outlaws,
and I was so proud.
The day after Mitterrand's victory,
we heard Bob Marley had died.
"It's a bad omen, Philou."
I hope you like my tape.
Hello.
I think I'm in love.
I like you.
I really like you.
I don't know...
East Berlin.
I'm sending you a kiss.
You're in Berlin.
You're doing radio.
You're exactly where you should be.
"He's been killed, Philippe."
You left for Spain.
In Marianne's car.
Without her.
Without me.
You never made it out of the region.
The day after your funeral
I went to see Marianne's car.
There wasn't much left.
I wondered if I'd find
something of yours.
I saw blood on the seat.
I'll never forget that blood.
There was a tape in the car radio.
It stopped at the same time as the car.
And your heart.
I stopped too.
When you stop, you sink.
And I'm sinking, Jérôme.
I'm drowning.
You're limping.
But, you see,
I'm speaking.
I can feel this voice in my gut,
this heat.
And I hear you.
"Don't let sadness win."
Protect this fire.
"Get away."
I promise you, Jérôme, I'll try.
I'll try.
I'll try
to keep a tight grip on this line
that you're holding out to me.
I don't know what's coming.
I'm sure there are walls behind the walls.
But I really want to go and see.
Because even if it's cold,
even if it looks like the party's over,
and the embers of the fire
have been scattered,
I'm sure of one thing.
It's burning.
It's still burning.
discharged on mental health grounds.
(By extension): idiotic, maladjusted.
That's two million more voters.
It shows
voters are far more likely to vote
when a close result is expected
and when the outcome is decisive.
Look how beautiful it is.
It's my first time eating it.
Here's what he should say:
Love has the Indo-European root "om".
Is that your chat-up line?
- No, listen...
The Indo-European root?
- You know what "om" means?
It means "to fertilise".
I'm not saying fertility means greatness
because no one is great these days.
Not you, but some people are.
It means something wants to escape,
something may happen.
You talking about your sperm?
Let me interrupt. This is Marianne.
Hi, Marianne.
Philou, you already know.
Shall we sit down?
So... Marianne, wasn't it?
Yes.
What are you doing here?
I'm doing a one-year
hairdressing apprenticeship.
You gonna cut his hair?
- No.
No one touches my hair.
Your daughter?
- Yes.
Well done, Jérôme.
Two birds with one stone.
- I'm investing in my future.
Here it is!
In a few seconds you will know
who the next president will be.
Between two clowns,
I'll always choose the Communist.
Shut up.
- I love you too.
It's Sunday 10 May, 1981, the second round
of the presidential election.
This is a decisive moment for us all.
In every boardroom and every household,
people await the result.
Six, five, four,
three, two, one...
François Mitterrand
has been elected President.
Mitterrand! Mitterrand! Mitterrand!
It started just before the election,
which I didn't really care about.
At the time, all I was thinking about
was what we were going to broadcast.
Four, three,
two, one...
Radio Warsaw!
Welcome, everyone!
"Good evening",
as King John Peel would say.
You're listening to Radio Warsaw
and I, as always, am Jérôme.
And, as always,
night follows day
and night means noise.
We love the noise of our friends on acid
from Marquis de Sade,
which is one of the bands
we've got for you tonight.
We'll also have The Sonics,
and their anti-pop mates,
Iggy Pop and the Stooges,
Red Zebra from Belgium,
and a new gem straight from England,
the four girls from The Au Pairs,
considered as the cousins
of Gang of Four.
But before all that...
With the election coming up,
here's a little joy
in this world of division,
with Joy Division
and the voice of Ian Curtis.
My loves, my darlings,
my fools, my lost souls,
tonight we're sharing with you
a bootleg recording of Joy Division's
last concert on 2 May 1980,
in the greyness
of the University of Birmingham.
The last cry of this angel
who was called to heaven
and left us with the feeling
of having lost a god.
At the dawn of a decade
which should change everything
but will change nothing at all,
"Here are the young men,
the weight on their shoulders.
Here are the young men,
where have they been?"
I never could talk into a microphone.
You were the voice.
I just pressed the buttons.
I was just your little brother,
and that suited me fine.
We were on the radio,
we were outlaws,
and I was so proud.
It's Jérôme, as always, on Radio...
Warsaw!
For glory! For glory!
"We knocked on the doors
of Hell's darker chamber.
Pushed to the limit..."
- No, no, no!
Come down! Stop!
MAGNETIC BEATS
Come on.
Thanks.
You're a really good guy.
You're a nice guy.
You'd make a good soldier.
- Come on.
Open the door, man.
Shut up.
Quiet.
Keep quiet.
Don't worry.
Philippe?
Everything OK?
Yes.
I didn't put on the light
and knocked a picture off.
Where's your brother?
I don't know. Asleep?
I'm sick of this.
Yeah.
Look at you.
Go to bed.
Poor schmuck.
That's enough.
Stop.
"And God said to Noah..."
- Stop, Jérôme.
"'This is the sign of the covenant
between me and all living creatures.'
Noah's sons who came out of the ark
were Shem, Ham and Japheth."
Shut up.
- "Ham was Canaan's father.
"From these three sons of Noah, the earth was populated."
- Enough!
"Noah started to till the soil
and planted a vineyard."
He drank its wine,
became drunk and lay uncovered..."
- That's enough!
"Ham, Canaan's father,
saw his father's nakedness
and told his two brothers outside."
Remember when we were kids,
I was the one who wouldn't shut up?
You were the mysterious one.
You always had your nose in a book.
Mum loved that.
She said you got it from her.
But I never saw her read anything.
Alright?
What are you doing?
I'm off.
Seriously?
You really don't give a shit.
It's three o'clock.
I'm going to see Marianne.
I've got a date.
What time will you be back?
I don't know.
Could you look the other way?
What's the time?
Half past eight.
Shit, Annie didn't wake me.
She must've forgotten.
Very perceptive of you.
What's that?
I'm trying to make something
to put listeners on air.
Yeah?
To ask people who were exempted
from military service how they did it.
I've got my assessment next week.
Sorry.
OK, then...
- Would you do me a favour?
While you're here, we could try a jingle.
I've prepared something
but you've got a nicer voice than me.
OK, but quickly.
What do I say?
- OK...
Say, "P for peace".
"P for peace"?
- Yeah.
P for peace, the letter P.
Sure...
And "P for" is P4. You see?
I see.
OK, say when.
OK. Could you say it
a bit more gently, please?
OK.
Really good.
I'm just going to ask
one last little thing.
Can you just make it a bit more...
like you're whispering?
Perfect. Perfect.
I'm 48 years old.
It's always difficult
to talk about oneself.
But it must be done.
Those tapes...
I can't hear you.
They're... sounds that I record.
Dogs barking, waves, bells,
all sorts of things.
Then I put them on tapes,
with infinite loops and...
Things like this.
I cut them and splice them in
to make infinite loops...
OK.
It's great.
Great.
I've got her things ready.
Her cuddly toy, everything.
And her exercise book.
Yes?
Thanks. I'm not quite with it.
Bye, Rita!
- Bye!
What do we tell Yvette?
That we were at the carousel.
- That's it.
And you're away.
You're on air.
Captain Jérôme.
How are things with Marianne?
Not bad.
François Mitterrand
has been elected President.
We won!
We won!
Mitterrand President!
You OK?
Aren't you pleased?
Giscard in the bin!
I was for Giscard.
Giscard in the bin!
Giscard in the bin!
We won, man.
It's not the Bastille,
but it ain't bad, huh?
Bye!
- Bye, Francis!
Right.
Bye, guys.
The day after Mitterrand's victory,
we heard Bob Marley had died.
I remember what you said to me.
"It's a bad omen, Philou."
Gentlemen,
on behalf of Colonel Clerc,
welcome to your
orientation and selection day.
It'll be a great experience.
Don't miss out.
You're all wondering the same thing.
Am I fit to do national service?
You don't have the answer
and neither do I.
It will depend on tests...
You were all exempted.
Jean-Jacques, Kader, and you, of course.
You said it was a formality.
You act like a moron.
Bichon!
- You talk nonsense.
Tell them you can't stand
living in a group,
that you have dark thoughts.
Bichon, Philippe.
- I told you I couldn't do it.
Don't be scared. Hurry up.
Then you gave me Dad's cardigan.
"Wear that and act the same as usual.
Keep quiet. Never open your mouth."
184.
- You said
I just needed to be myself.
I was already a P4.
Left eye, first line.
The first line. Out loud.
Can you read?
Point out the first letter
on the first line.
Here you go.
Next.
PSYCHIATRIST 1
What's the matter?
There's no need to cry.
You can talk to me.
Have you lost someone close to you?
Is it me?
Do I have an illness?
A serious illness?
Thank you, miss.
I see it says mutism.
Pathological or deliberate.
So what should we put?
You seemed OK just then.
Sorry about our methods.
Just playing the cards we have.
I think I'm in love.
Oh, you're in love.
Yes.
Is it pathological or...
deliberate?
Welcome to the French Army,
Philippe Bichon.
Come on, it's not a death sentence.
There we go. "Fit".
Why did you do it?
You laughed when I said
they were sending me to Berlin.
Like you didn't give a shit.
At least you'll get to visit Germany.
I was terrified.
Hello.
- Hello!
There we go.
- It's perfect. Thank you.
Yvette! Let's go!
OK, wait.
Don't cross the road.
Wait for me.
How's it going here?
I'm sick of the old lady.
Luckily it's only a year.
What will you do afterwards?
Go back to Paris.
The first move.
I'd like her to make the first move.
I know.
Head forward.
It's not the done thing.
But I would like.
For her to come to me.
Because, you see.
I don't dare.
Why are you laughing?
At the foot of the stairs.
Then, like every day.
She'll say to me...
- Hello.
Hello.
Only this time.
She'll take my arm.
See you tonight.
Marianne?
- Yes?
Military service lasts a year.
I just wanted to say...
meeting you was really something.
See you later.
You organised a party,
officially my leaving party.
But it felt like
no one was there for me.
They came for you.
For Marianne.
For everyone who was staying.
Come here!
I'm gonna miss you, Philou.
Gonna miss you, my little shitty bro.
Is that you in the photo with your mother?
No. It's Jérôme.
Do you hate her too?
No.
But she's dating a prick.
Did you get some sleep?
I made some tapes for you.
I found you some German bands.
Nina Hagen, Malaria.
They're great, I love them.
And some others.
Thanks.
Right.
I'm off to work.
Attention!
You're ready.
The invoices are in the drawer.
Mr Barbais's quotation
is in the blue folder.
The light blue one.
The dark blue one is for the insurance.
Yeah.
We'll manage fine without you.
Don't kid yourself.
Have a good time.
I wasn't unhappy
about being different from you.
About not meeting the criteria
of the alpha male.
Alpha males are stupid.
But never mind.
They're resilient.
All the way!
Shut up, I can't concentrate.
Stop it!
Yes!
- Piss off!
We never talked about the army.
Never.
It was as if you didn't want to know.
As if it was too pathetic for you.
I was assigned to the 46th Infantry
Regiment, 2nd Company, 2nd Section.
A real French town by the Berlin Wall.
Right in the middle of the Cold War.
I thought, "Why not?"
Apparently that's how you become a man.
Waiting for time to pass,
a rifle in your hand.
Dressed up as soldiers,
like our fathers before us.
Sorry. You OK?
Philippe.
I can't sleep.
I smoked all my cigarettes.
I hope you like my tape.
I don't know much about music.
I like you.
I really like you.
I'm sending you a kiss.
On your neck.
Is that allowed?
OK.
Send me a message.
AN EYE FOR AN EYE,
A TAPE FOR A TAPE
Marianne.
Marianne.
I read somewhere that the disease of youth
is not knowing what we want,
but wanting it at all costs.
I know what I want.
I hated my voice.
This is impossible.
It was everything inside me.
Shit.
Everything I wanted to hide.
Marianne.
Oh, Ma...
You alright?
Sorry, I...
It's not...
Don't worry, I'm a private too.
No one was here, I thought I could...
You're new.
Aren't you?
- No.
I've been rotting away for months
in the land of muscles.
So I squat here. It's quieter.
What were you doing?
I wanted to record a tape.
For a girl.
Marianne, I presume?
- Yeah.
Carry on, don't mind me.
It's OK...
I'll finish it later.
Do you present the radio club?
"Present" is overstating it.
But it got me a job with the BFBS
and out of a year's worth of push-ups.
The what?
The British Forces Broadcasting Service,
the radio station in the British sector.
Really?
You interested?
- You bet.
It's weird
I never told you about Édouard.
Besides your friends,
Édouard was my first real friend.
Can you lend me your razor?
You're welcome.
THE LITTLE PRINCE
Not very chatty, are you?
You do speak English, right?
Sure.
OK.
I'll introduce you to Danny.
That's him speaking.
This is the army radio station?
Officially, yes.
It's for the troops and expats.
Unofficially, the war's still on,
and it's happening on the air.
If they enjoy English pop over there,
it's like the wall's already down.
So it's propaganda?
They're hardly encouraged to listen to us.
Here's Danny.
How's it going?
Here you are,
in the service of Her Majesty.
I embarrassed you.
No, you didn't embarrass me.
But the idea of the listener
requesting a song for his girl,
I wasn't expecting that.
This is Élysée Hairdressing.
The salon is open Tuesday to Friday,
from 9am to midday and from 4pm to 7pm.
Please leave a message after the tone.
Goodbye and thank you.
Hello, Madame Ponsard.
This is Philippe Bichon.
Could you pass on a message to Marianne?
It's very important.
Could you tell her
to listen to the radio tomorrow at 5.30pm
on 237 kilohertz, not megahertz,
because it's on long wave.
So, 237 kilohertz on long wave tomorrow.
That's all.
Thank you for passing on the message.
Have a nice evening.
Thank you again.
THE FIRST MOVE
That's all I had to say.
But it seemed ridiculous.
Marianne had played her serve
like Chris Evert.
It needed a return worthy of Björn Borg.
The first move of love.
In her bed day after day.
She will reveal her body to me.
And make me regret forever.
That I didn't say before.
The first...
word.
I can't sleep.
I smoked all my cigarettes.
I like you.
I really like you.
Send me a message.
Send me a message.
Philippe, we're 20 years old.
Sorry, but we're
too young for love stories.
Have you read
"Letters to a Young Poet" by Rilke?
No.
- You should.
It's like a roadmap
for 15 to 25 year olds.
He writes:
"Young people are not yet
capable of love: they must learn."
Then comes the amazing part:
"All learning is a time of seclusion,
and therefore loving,
for a long time ahead
and far on into life,
is solitude,
a heightened and deepened solitude."
Wow. That's cheerful.
You want some ecstasy?
Here's yours.
So this is your thing, Philippe?
Well...
Will you do your radio again
after the army?
Yeah, I think so. Why?
Because we could do things.
- Sure.
With the deregulation of radio...
No, it goes further than that.
The sadness of the 1970s,
utopian dreams, it's all over.
The crisis
has thrown us back to reality.
Everyone needs action today.
For the first time ever
everyone's speaking the same language.
The guy in a suit wants long hair.
The guy with long hair wants a suit.
Politics won't change the world.
What's going to change the world
is music, brands, art, adventure.
It's everyday life.
You have a talent, Philippe.
Use it.
When you get back to France,
come to Paris.
My family has assets.
I don't want all that money
to just sit in the bank.
I want to set up a record label,
a radio station, a magazine.
We can do all that together.
Guys, we're about to enter the East.
Checkpoint Charlie.
I need your passports.
Your passports.
I always get the shivers.
Hand over your papers.
Papers, please.
I love the waiting part.
Welcome to the East.
East Berlin.
You'd have given a kidney
and your records to see that.
All the muses of Radio Warsaw were there.
Behind the wall,
with no past and no future.
An inferno of sound and partying.
I'd have loved you to be there with me.
"Did you see that, Philou? You see that?"
Wait.
I feel weird.
Are you feeling bad?
No. That's the point.
Tease!
Everything's fine.
The BFBS agreement
got me a late pass till midnight.
But not to return wasted
in the early hours.
I got two days in the slammer.
Two days when I couldn't call Marianne.
Two days when I only thought of her.
Élysée Hairdressing.
Hello, Madame Ponsard.
It's Philippe Bichon.
Could I speak to Marianne, please?
Hello.
Hello. Hi.
I couldn't call you before. How are you?
Did you get my message?
Did you hear it? Did you listen?
Yeah.
It was a bit weird maybe.
It was amazing.
There wasn't too much interference?
No, really, it was fine.
You're talented, Philippe.
I listened to your tape.
Philippe.
You're in Berlin.
You're doing radio.
You're exactly where you should be.
So don't complicate things.
You're a fool, my dear.
Thanks. Have a good evening.
What are you doing here?
I got leave.
So you decided
to spend it in this shithole?
Can I have one?
- Help yourself.
This is good.
Are you OK?
How's the garage?
What do you care about the garage?
I'm just asking.
You haven't asked since you left.
Neither have you.
No need to justify yourself.
Recently, all your brother does
is piss us off.
Not for much longer. I'm leaving too.
No reason to stay.
Jérôme is all principles and promises.
Until it comes to a free room and board.
That's what I think
of your room and board.
Jérôme, come back!
Come back now!
Come back!
You know where he's going?
You're handsome.
Coming?
Let's smoke a little joint.
Yeah.
Faster!
- Piss off!
Fuck you, soldier!
Faster!
Come on, Philou!
Hey! Stop!
Jérôme, let go!
Jérôme...
Fuck! Can't you hear?
I won.
You idiot.
Stop it.
You OK?
You should've stayed in Berlin.
Wait.
He's not on leave.
He's a deserter.
The Russians are always jamming.
We don't jam anything.
Ever listened to any Russki stuff?
Peace and Progress, that sort of thing?
No one gives a shit about their stuff.
Yet they adore our music.
What can you do?
When you say "our music", "we",
what do you mean?
We, the West.
The free market.
Philippe.
How do I look?
Nice little fur coat?
Look at this.
It's not bad.
How old is Marianne, 80?
Stop it. It's pretty...
You're not shy, you're old-fashioned.
Taxi!
Right, man. This is it.
Don't look like that.
You'll be done soon too.
Yeah...
You'll be fine.
Don't hide away with your girl.
Come see me in Paris.
I'm not sure she's my girl.
"I'm not sure she's my girl."
OK, Frog.
Take care.
French sector, please.
Bichon.
At ease.
Come with me.
Captain?
Where are you taking me?
Your father's on the phone.
Dad?
I kept hearing Dad on the phone,
crying and repeating,
"He's been killed, Philippe.
He's been killed."
You left for Spain.
In Marianne's car.
Without her.
Without me.
You were smashed.
3.7 grams of alcohol in your blood.
You never made it out of the region.
Good as new.
Thank you.
You got more upstairs?
No, this is everything.
Yvette isn't here?
No.
Yvette doesn't like goodbyes.
I'm going to pick up Rita.
- I'll come with you.
Philippe.
You're here but you say nothing.
Ever since you got back.
You're here but you say nothing.
I'm sure you'll still be here in 20 years.
I'll see.
You'll see nothing if you stay here.
Mummy!
Bye.
- Bye, Jean-Jacques.
Bye, little one.
Thanks for everything.
I'll come with you.
You want me to drop you off?
No, Jacquot will take me home.
I'm gonna miss you.
You're a wonderful girl.
Jérôme...
I don't know what to say to you,
but I have to talk to you.
I have to tell you.
It started just before the election,
which I didn't really care about.
At the time, all I was thinking about
was what we were going to broadcast.
I never could talk into a microphone.
You were the voice.
I just pressed the buttons.
I was your little brother.
That suited me just fine.
We were on the radio,
we were outlaws,
and I was so proud.
The day after Mitterrand's victory,
we heard Bob Marley had died.
"It's a bad omen, Philou."
I hope you like my tape.
Hello.
I think I'm in love.
I like you.
I really like you.
I don't know...
East Berlin.
I'm sending you a kiss.
You're in Berlin.
You're doing radio.
You're exactly where you should be.
"He's been killed, Philippe."
You left for Spain.
In Marianne's car.
Without her.
Without me.
You never made it out of the region.
The day after your funeral
I went to see Marianne's car.
There wasn't much left.
I wondered if I'd find
something of yours.
I saw blood on the seat.
I'll never forget that blood.
There was a tape in the car radio.
It stopped at the same time as the car.
And your heart.
I stopped too.
When you stop, you sink.
And I'm sinking, Jérôme.
I'm drowning.
You're limping.
But, you see,
I'm speaking.
I can feel this voice in my gut,
this heat.
And I hear you.
"Don't let sadness win."
Protect this fire.
"Get away."
I promise you, Jérôme, I'll try.
I'll try.
I'll try
to keep a tight grip on this line
that you're holding out to me.
I don't know what's coming.
I'm sure there are walls behind the walls.
But I really want to go and see.
Because even if it's cold,
even if it looks like the party's over,
and the embers of the fire
have been scattered,
I'm sure of one thing.
It's burning.
It's still burning.