Mon père est ingénieur (2004) - full transcript

MY FATHER IS AN ENGINEER

I'll tell you how it happened.

It was December 24. Suddenly
a fierce mistral began blowing,

fierce enough to dehorn
the Camargue bulls,

uproot the olive trees of
Crau or the pines of Alpilles.

The mistral, God's good friend,

had chased the clouds
thousands of kilometres

to clear the sky and
make it bright with stars.

The sky was sparkling clean.

Fine work, but the temperature
also dropped as a result.

So the people of Bethlehem
went to bed early.



Joseph walked in front,

his beard waving in
the wind like a banner,

trying to shield Mary from the wind

with his broad carpenter's shoulders.

From time to time he
looked back and said...

Are you all right, my love?

I'm exhausted.

One last effort, Mary, please.

One last effort to
that hangar over there.

Nobody wants us.

The rich don't want us.
The rich chase us away.

Only the poor live here.
They'll make room for us.

Hold me, it hurts.

What misery!



No money, no home, and
my wife about to deliver!

I'm sorry I cause so much trouble.

No, Mary, I apologise
for what I just said.

I'm a miserable wretch. I
don't deserve to be a father.

Make your racket somewhere else!

Beat it!

Are you deaf, or what?

Help us! Please!

What the fuck do you want?

I'm sorry.

Please excuse us for waking you.

- Why's she braying like a cow?
- Like an ass.

- Cow.
- Ass...

She's in labour.

Come, quick.

Lucky we put fresh
straw down this morning.

If we'd known you were coming,
we'd have saved a few carrots.

What now?

Make her stand so the baby drops.

- Come on, ox, lift her.
- Shut up, you dumb ass!

She's cold.

"Indeed, that's exactly how it happened.

"The ox and the ass got on
their knees and warmed Mary.

"They rubbed her limbs

"and warmed her with their
breath until midnight.

"The baby was born at exactly midnight

"without making a sound.

"He smiled and his mother smiled.

"Joseph, the ox and the ass
shed tears the size of olives.

"Then everyone smiled.

"Miracles occurred, small and big..."

Miracles, my arse!

Miracles... There were no
miracles and no Son of God!

Must you read her this pious crap?

It was her favourite
story when she was little.

- Think she can hear us?
- I'm sure she can.

Eat, my little dove.

I hope she can hear us.

But we can't know for sure.

Not at all.

Perhaps you're right.

After all, if she smiles

because she imagines an ass
and an ox blowing on a baby,

if she smiles, I'll believe in miracles.

I'll believe anything you want.

What's happening? It's past midnight.

He won't come out.

What do you mean he won't come out?

Are you sure?

So, old girl, things aren't too good?

You no longer talk?

You don't talk because you don't want to.

I know you. Nothing and no
one could ever shut you up.

Only you can decide that.

Does she eat?

Only purees. Everything
goes through the blender.

Please, eat.

Last time I saw you,
you were less formal.

Last time I saw you was on
TV with the Health Minister.

We're very proud of you.

We didn't dare call you.
You're an important person now.

Would you like some more?

No, thanks.

Have you seen Professor Schidlowski?

He was my teacher at uni.

Did he mention psychological trauma?

Yes... some kind of stupefaction.

He explained that after a shock...

What shock? There was no shock.

When I found her she
looked perfectly normal.

They said the same at the hospital.

- That's the thing, she looks fine.
- I know...

But her condition is similar
to victims of terrorist attacks

or other violent acts.

They lose their will...

Their will to live is completely gone.

There's no more... meaning.
In every sense of the word.

- Can we do anything?
- Wait.

I'll stay a few days to study her file.

Then I'll call a few
specialists in Paris.

Thanks, Jeremie.

- So you've moved?
- Yes.

- We were robbed.
- Several times.

I even had my bag snatched.

After that, I was constantly scared.

I'd have liked to stay there.

How do you fight fear?

- Natasha took over our flat.
- I'm not surprised.

She set it up as her medical practice.

We had more room there.

Here we have one
bedroom, there we had two.

The conference ends on Thursday.

So I'll be back Thursday
evening or Friday morning.

Anyway, I'll fetch her Friday
evening for the weekend.

My phone must have been switched off.

I hate taking calls during a conference.

I'll talk to the principal.

Why shouldn't I talk to her?

We have to sort out this situation.

If she wants to quit school at 14...

If school bores her,
there must be a problem.

No need to see a shrink.
It didn't help last time.

No, I don't agree.

We'll discuss it when I'm
back. Okay? Talk to you later.

Take these...

I should have thought
about it but I didn't.

Natasha's key.

I'd rather stay in a hotel.

And pay a fortune?
Better stay at her place.

Wearing blue helmets
and carrying truncheons

they are Basra's new police force.

Accompanied by British troops,

these policemen are now on the frontline.

"Salam malekoum. Police!
We want to speak to you."

The tension is palpable.

Then the door opens
and the talking starts.

"Is it true you entered this
house without authorisation?"

Another translator takes over.

"A family arrived here two days ago

"with a permit from the British.

"You took advantage of this
and moved in with them."

A police officer moves forward.

He directs the operation
and wants it to be swift.

He answers the old man's
pleas with an abrupt order...

Come in.

"I give you five minutes..."

Good evening, sir. May
I turn down your bed?

Policemen and soldiers enter the house

and search it for weapons and loot.

The head of the family still
tries to plead their cause.

To no avail. He and
his children must leave,

carrying their meagre possessions.

In the garden, a woman is jubilant.

She's the owner of the house.
It's she who warned the British.

They may be homeless, but it's her house.

They couldn't stay there.

I went up in the sky as
high and as fast as I could

to announce the good news.

I blew my trumpet so hard
I almost burst my cheeks!

The mistral stopped. But it's
not my trumpet that woke people up.

Rather, it was the silence that followed.

- She's not there.
- I know.

- Her office is closed.
- I'm not here for that.

- She's at her parents'.
- You know her?

We're neighbours. And you?
I haven't seen you before.

We fell in love in Russian language class

in 1974.

We were 14.

You couldn't pronounce
"My father is an engineer."

Can you do it now?

Impressive.

How were we then? Do you remember?

When I look at old photos,

despite the images,

I see us as we are today.

Wouldn't you like to
be on that cargo ship?

No, I'm fine here.

- How about travelling with me?
- Where to?

Alexandria, Valparaiso... I don't know.

To be with you, yes.

If a fairy appeared and asked
you to make one single wish,

what would it be?

A house with a little
garden, here, facing the sea.

Is that all?

And children... heaps of them.

With me?

I don't want to force the
issue, but if you want...

How many would you like?

A house, kids...

Such middle-class dreams.

I am what I am, pal.

And you don't care if beyond
your little garden and house

people starve and work
themselves to death?

I'll ask the fairy to give
them houses with green shutters,

to make sure they don't
go hungry and aren't cold,

and I'll ban work that kills.

There is no fairy.

We're the fairies, the
workers of the world.

Your fairy won't make the world
free, without class or borders.

Yes, but I wish for a
house under the pine trees,

on the hill where we made
love for the first time.

That's your right,

just as it's my right to say
yours is a petit bourgeois dream.

- You're pulling my leg.
- A little.

So you found her on Tuesday?

Yes, I usually visit her
on Tuesdays. It's on my way.

Every Tuesday I go to the gym.

So on that particular Tuesday
I came and I pushed the door,

which she leaves open,
knowing I'm coming.

Natasha? It's me.

Everything seemed perfectly normal.

She was at her desk.

What are you doing there?

I can't smell coffee. Have you forgotten?

Are you busy?

Shall I make it?

Natasha?

What's wrong?

Natasha!

Do you hear me?

Natasha!

My girl...

You used to pinch my lavender.

There...

You'll be beautiful.

"The dinner was at its end.

"Jesus stood up, tense and solemn,

"and performed a new
and surprising ritual.

"He took bread, blessed and broke it,

"and gave it to his apostles.

"'Take, eat, this is my body.
Drink from this all of you,

"'for this is my blood
of the new covenant,

"'which is shed for many
for the remission of sins.'"

Do I ask or do you?

Last year?

You.

Then ask.

Do we go on, or stop?

We go on.

Do we stop or go on?

We go on.

Can you hear me?

Can you hear me?

Yes, Brigitte, I'm listening.

I don't know about that.

Yes, I spoke to Jacques.

True, I did tell him that.

Since he told you everything,
no point repeating it.

I'm fine, but I don't feel
like talking to anyone.

- Is she here?
- No.

- My wife said get the doctor.
- She's not here.

She said get the kid doctor.

- What's wrong?
- Sick.

- Who is?
- In my home.

- I'm a doctor.
- Good! Let's go.

- Natasha not here?
- No.

- I thought she was back.
- Not yet.

Will you see her?

She'll be very pleased. Bye.

Are you good at French?

"Chanter" is in the first
group. But "aller" isn't.

But it ends with "er".

Yes, but that's how it is.

You say je chante bien, but je vais mal.

Or je chante mal, but je vais bien.

Usually there's a baby.

Yes... usually these two have a baby.

On the dot of midnight. But
my dad doesn't believe it.

Like Santa?

Yes. But my mum really believes in it.

So every year, we put
up a crib to please her.

And to please my dad, we omit baby Jesus.

It was a secular crib.

I'm like my dad.

But I do love the story.

That everyone gets together
once a year, on that day,

everybody together, all
the people, the villagers,

the mayor, the knife-grinder,
the gendarme, the thief,

Roustido the rich man, Vincent
the poor, the fisherman...

All agreeing!

Agreeing to what?

Simply to living together.

Care for some coffee, or
does it keep you awake?

A drink?

My kids have left home.

They're twins. A boy and a girl of 22.

They've gone abroad to
work. London, Barcelona...

Foreigners flock here,
the French leave...

I don't get it.

They have guts. But I miss them.

I was there when her father found her.

I heard the ambulance. I
saw her lying on a stretcher.

We used to have so
much fun, Natasha and I.

She was fun, wasn't she?

She was quite a girl.

She was only worried about the girl.

What girl?

She lives here. It
started when she was 13.

She visited Natasha since she was little.

- It started when she was 13...
- What started?

- The problems. The girl...
- What's her name?

Didn't I tell you?

Mylene. Like the singer.

Her parents weren't too thrilled
about her seeing that boy.

And the boy's parents
weren't happy either.

But they seemed to
really love each other.

I called them Romeo and Juliet.

- Why tell me all this?
- I don't know.

Natasha couldn't get it off her mind.

But Vadino, Mylene's
dad, is a decent guy.

Natasha is right. We
can't just do nothing.

We must listen to no one.
We must say no, no, no!

That's fine, but what do we do?

We explain to everyone that
it doesn't have to happen.

We'll split into blocks,
entrances and floors.

We won't forget anyone.
We'll knock at every door.

It's important to explain it
to people with poor French.

We'll take as long as we need.

If we believe in ourselves,
they'll believe us.

They'll see we're all in the same boat.

We must resist every eviction,
whoever they may target!

We must take the time to convince people.

We're all different,
with different religions,

but we must bury our differences.

Today, the choice is simple.

We stick by each other or we're finished.

This applies to housing,

but it also applies to all other issues.

We'll win.

- I'm a communist, I'm
love from toe to head.

"Love: see, think, understand.

"Love: a child is born, light advances.

"Love: to hang a swing on the stars.

"Love: quench steel with infinite pain.

"I'm a communist, I'm
love from toe to head.

"I translated the poem into Russian

"for Anoushka and Maroussia.

"Ismail lights his cigarette from mine.

"He says it's a nice poem and
gets up to open the window,

"letting the sun in.

"'Life is beautiful, my friend' he says."

LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL, MY FRIEND Nazim Hikmet

I'm sure your presence
makes her feel better.

Thank you.

All these years you were happy.

I know, your neighbour told
me. She tells me everything.

I don't even know her name.

Me, I was unhappy.

All the time.

Death...

Death, death, death...

The places I visited during
those years were full of death.

Corpses, like those you watch on TV.

I mean, those you watch without seeing.

And the smell.

The smell...

It forces you to see them.

I was thinking about you.

Your smile.

Your laughter, your body.

But also your hands.

Your hands had become an obsession.

Your hands that hold babies.

I imagined them white.

Whiter than in reality.

As white as the babies' skin.

Remember what Rene Char wrote?

"Man is capable of doing what
he's incapable of imagining."

Well, that's what I saw.

What man is capable of doing.

It's rather nice that you don't talk.

I can finally get a word in.

And you not answering
removes all inhibitions.

You've always impressed me.

Always on top of everything.
That's quite something.

I shouldn't have accepted that we stop.

I didn't want to.

I love you.

You're my only love.

And I will only ever love you.

But you must speak,
Natasha. You must speak.

Hi, Annelise. You're ready?

Yes.

You're in good hands.

Yes, but the professor
is asking for money...

to make sure it's he who operates.

Wait, did I get that right?

He asked you for money
to perform the operation?

10,000 francs.

That's all right, Natasha.

Come in.

I have a fascinating case for you.

I'm afraid we're fascinated
by different things.

Is this spine fascinating
you? What about the man?

Know why his spine is like that?
Do you know why it's wrecked?

Because since he was ten he's
been maintaining the ships

that took your father and
his cronies on exotic cruises.

Don't!

Alexandria, Valparaiso,
your dreams of travel,

will you finance them
with workers' pensions?

Natasha!

Coffee keeps me awake.

Stay with me.

No.

But you're drunk.

No.

Come on, stay.

No.

You prefer Natasha's bed.

It's bigger than mine, right?

Her TV is bigger too.

And the wine's better too. Is that it?

Get up, go to bed.

If I get up I'll move and I'll vomit.

I'm staying put, I'm not
moving. Come on, stay.

It's Tuesday. I bet
you haven't had lunch.

I never told her, but
her coffee was vile.

Those electric contraptions are rubbish.

The coffee tastes like shit,
even the colour's wrong.

You haven't eaten anything.

I'm fine.

Want to come to Mejean with me?

Did you know she had a shack there?

No.

No one's been there since she...

We should go and check.

Did you have other plans?

No.

Let's go, then.

Why did you call her Natasha?

Because it's Russian.

And I liked the Russians at that time.

I mean, the Soviet Union.

But don't you know what it means?

What? It means something?

It means Natale, nativity day.

Really?

And Jeremy, in Hebrew, means grown,

elevated towards God.

Are you Jewish?

No more than Natasha is Russian.

My parents were true communists like you.

Resistance and all...

Do you know the date of St Jeremy's Day?

- No idea.
- It's May Day.

Do we stop or do we go on?

We stop.

I don't want to leave this place...

my town, my neighbourhood.

You...

You do what you must. Do it well.

But I...

If I aim too big, I'm
afraid of missing the target.

In this town, in this neighbourhood,

I have my reference points.

You know I don't like the open sea.

And this way, there are
less risks of getting lost.

So I'll open my medical practice

and treat people I've
known since I was born.

It's not very ambitious,

but I won't be the first to
suffer from lack of ambition.

Besides, when I think
about what I want to do,

I actually think that it's rather grand.

It takes as much courage
to leave as it does to stay.

That's true.

May I have some champagne?

We've won a great victory!

What did we achieve?

Well, we've won, of course.
No one will be evicted!

But... we've done better than that.

Much better.

We've put aside our petty grudges.

We've put them aside to
focus on what matters,

the fact that there are no
reasons why we shouldn't get on,

and if there are, they're bad ones.

I hope this makes sense,

because I've had too much to drink.

But...

if we try to put intellect and love

ahead of everything else,

there's no reason why the
world shouldn't improve!

There were too many miracles
that night to count them all.

God may like to please, but
he doesn't like it advertised.

As for the good news and lovely music,

one person in Bethlehem was unmoved.

That was mean Roustido.

The scriptures spare
him by not mentioning it,

but he expelled St Joseph
and the Virgin, shouting...

Beggars! Bums! Go away!

Yet his daughter Mireille
was the prettiest, kindest,

daintiest and most amiable of girls.

She was modest and patient

but she was in love with Vincent.

When she mentioned him to Roustido

he almost choked to death.

It's not even locked.

What did I say? She left
everything as it was.

The butter's still good.

Coffee...

Still hot!

What are you doing in my
daughter's place? Out!

Wait...

Out!

- Mylene?
- Yes.

You know her?

She's fine.

She's eating, putting on
weight, sleeping, crying...

- So I came for nothing?
- Isn't it better that way?

What do I owe you?

We'll see next time.
Let me do the paperwork.

Natasha...

Hi, Rachid. Wait your turn.

She's not going to school.

He's locked her in. They
don't want me to see her.

Excuse me.

School is compulsory.

You can't stop her attending.

You can't imprison her forever.

Let's solve this. I'm happy to help.

Help? We don't need help!

Why stick your nose everywhere?
You're just a doctor.

Leave us alone.

If you separate them, one
won't survive, maybe both.

Do you want that?

I knew her as a baby.
She's like a daughter to me.

She's not your daughter.
You have no children.

Let me raise mine as I
wish. I know what to do.

I'll walk you home.

- Nice day, isn't it?
- Yes.

I'll tell you this...
At 14, I was in love.

In fact, I still love him.
I never stopped loving him.

I don't know where he is.

With his family, wife,
daughter... probably.

Or on a mission somewhere, far away.

Yes...

Far away.

And if your girl loves that
boy the way I loved him,

nothing can separate them.

She may not marry him,
she may not live with him,

but he'll always be with
her, she'll always miss him.

So, whether she marries him or not,

she'll always blame you
for trying to separate them.

And you'll have lost your child.

Nonsense. I was in love
at 14, but I don't miss him.

I don't even remember his name.

No one asked you to come.
I know what to do. Go home.

May I?

- What do you want?
- To come in. Are you alone?

- Why? You want to talk?
- Just let me in.

You don't want to.

Will you keep her locked up for long?

We'll move her to another school.

To stop them seeing each other?

I don't want her to ruin
her life. She's not studying.

I want her to have a
real job, a real life.

A clean and noble profession like yours.

People respect you.

You can afford nice
things, you're well-spoken.

School's no big deal.
She can repeat a year.

She likes you, she's known
you since she was born.

Please, tell her she can marry at 20.

I mean, no one marries these days.

Anyway, she needs my
signature and she won't get it.

You'll make them suffer for nothing?

She's not marrying an Arab.

What?

You heard me.

They're in love!

They grew up together.
I looked after them.

We fought for the same things.

We all live here,
including Rachid's family.

- Are you racist?
- No, you're not like me.

You chose to live here. I didn't.

I was forced to. I never chose anything.

But for her, I will choose.

You can go.

My father was an
immigrant, a shitty dago.

But he respected the
country that gave him work.

That's why he became
French, out of respect.

And thanks to him, I'm French too.

Even if I have to do shitty work.

I may do shitty work till I die,

but I'll always have one
thing, the fact that I'm French.

That's all I have. And
that's all I can give my kids.

I don't want to give that away.

"'Never! Do you hear me?

"'I will never give my
daughter to a poor man!'

"Mireille tried day after day
to change her father's mind,

"but the old man was as
stubborn as a Corsican ass.

"So one night..."

- Shall we elope?
- Yes.

- It's a sin.
- God will forgive us.

"I love you, I'll die for you!

"Don't say that!

"I want what you want.

"I'll fetch the horse and
we'll ride to Vaccares.

Natasha!

We said one hour.

- We lost track of time.
- Of course.

Quick, hop in or your parents
will notice you've been out.

They didn't have a clue.

It went on for two months.
We met almost every week.

Thanks to Natasha.

I'll tell you what happened after.

It was the day of my
baby brother's baptism.

You could have come to help.

Already dressed?

What's wrong?

What happened?

Tell me.

Where's Rachid?

I don't know.

I'm pregnant.

What did you say?

I'm pregnant.

I'll take you home.

I don't want to go
home. He'll hit me again.

- Who hit you?
- My father.

With a baby, they can't stop us marrying.

So you're having a baby
to force your parents?

Mine too. They want me to marry a Kabyl.

- How far along?
- Two and a half months.

Was that when Natasha put you up here?

First we went to the
hospital to check on the baby.

Everyone knew her there.

They checked me. The baby was fine.

The next day she went to get Rachid.

- We've been here ever since.
- A fisherman brings us fish.

Know what happened to Natasha?

No, we don't know anything.

She doesn't talk.

I came, but she wouldn't talk.

She has to be fed, dressed, washed.

She looks so sad.

She's retreated into herself.

Will she recover?

Yes...

She certainly will.

It's a condition one recovers from.

But we can't tell when.

I'm calling from a church.

Did I tell you I was going to Armenia?

I'm in Erevan, in a place
just like our housing estates,

dilapidated for no doubt similar reasons.

And there, with buildings
built all around it,

probably to hide it because they
daren't destroy it, is a church.

You'd love it.

It's tiny, only a few metres in diameter,

so tiny you could probably
fit it in one of your cribs.

Shit, you're gone.

I'd have loved to talk to you.

I'm tired.

I thought if people were
naked, without uniforms,

if they forgot their history

and that of their
parents and grandparents,

perhaps they'd stop fighting.

Perhaps the Azeri wouldn't have
killed Armenians in Sumgait.

The Karabakh war wouldn't have happened.

I know you're not there,
but I speak to you anyway.

I love you.

I miss you, my little girl.

Hi, Jacques.

I won't go.

No, I'm not sick.

Yes, I'm in Marseille but
I won't go to the congress.

Because it's pointless. Year after year,

thousands of talks, meetings,
conferences, publications...

AIDS in Africa,

the International Conference
in Brussels in 1995,

Arusha in 88, Lusaka in
99, Ouagadougou in 2001...

For what?

To tell them they won't get
generic drugs and they'll all die,

while the CEOs of the
three pharmaceutical giants

meet in secret to decide how
the world should be treated.

Yes, I know you know all this.

In fact, everyone does.

Anyway, what can we do
about the fucking CEOs?

Issue fines, warnings,
reprimands, that's all we can do.

I've had enough of empty gestures.

I can't hear.

You're dropping out...

I tried something new.

It's a bit like an old form of torture,

but sometimes it works.

No one can really say why.

- And did it work?
- No.

No, no result.

She's still in her own world.

Let's have another one, as you say.

Hi, Natasha! A drink?

- What are you doing here?
- It's the kid's baptism!

Ah, the great Christian community.

- Love thy neighbour...
- What do you want?

God isn't a free gift,
you must deserve Him.

It's like being a father.
You must deserve that right.

A father loves his
children above all else,

protects his children.

She almost lost the baby, but it's fine.

You should have hit
harder. You stuffed up.

She won't press charges,
because kids love their parents.

But I will.

I'm sick of people who
drag the world backwards

to preserve their pathetic little
lives, their peace and quiet.

They have nothing,

but no one should dare
disturb the nothing, the void,

the hole in which they live
their petty, selfish lives.

The world stops at their
door, and once it's closed

no one moves, no disturbances,

no rocking the boat, no taking sides.

Why don't you say something?

Give me one argument.

Speak up, you're a mother.

So you've become nothing.

Beneath contempt, inhuman.

You disgust me.

You can't sleep?

Is it because of Mylene?

Why don't you go to the police?

- I'm watching that guy.
- What guy?

- Near my car.
- Is he a thief?

No, I think it's the guy
who moved into her place.

I cooked you lamb with white beans.

I had a hard time finding
fresh ones. You'll love it!

You're not in top form. Can we help?

No.

It's this story...

Romeo and Juliet.

- Vadino's daughter?
- Yes.

I'm sick of dealing with all that crap.

All that nastiness and hatred.

I can't take it any more.

I don't know, it's...

I can feel it in my body, it's physical.

I'm worn out, I feel like
something will explode.

It's 2003.

We're in France.

This shouldn't exist.

What shouldn't exist, love?

He beat his daughter.

She's pregnant and he hit her.

- How old is she?
- 14.

A bit young for babies, but
that's no reason to hit her.

- I don't know what to do.
- Don't do anything.

I'm proud of you.

What should I do?

You can't save them all.
Think about yourself a bit.

Have you read How Green Was My Valley?

No.

It's a novel.

The author tells the story
of his family, his story.

They're miners, from father to son.

At the end, he can't open
the shutters of his window.

He was born there.

When he was little, he could
see the fields from his window.

But now, even if the
mines are closing down,

even if there are no jobs,

the coal waste heap is so huge
that it threatens the house.

Those warehouses opposite,
they reminded me of it.

Good evening.

Nice of you to drop by. Will you come in?

I can't offer much,
but we can have a drink.

I'll see what I can find.

Would it help to know
exactly what happened?

Would it help her to know what happened?

It could.

I caused it.

I've only got Curacao. Is that okay?

Did you hear what I said?

Yes.

So? Curacao?

She's my daughter. Where is she?

I've hidden her.

Where?

First I'll ask you something.

Is being of the Left only
a declaration of intent

or something you practise
in your everyday life,

with your wife, children, neighbours?

Okay, never mind.

Think I came here to talk?
No, we're not going to talk.

All you do is talk. We
don't want to hear you!

What will you do? Hit
me? Like your daughter?

Hit me where? On the
mouth? The belly? Everywhere?

No, we're not going to talk.

When did it happen?

A month ago.

The day after my baby's
baptism. On Sunday.

What are you going to do?

I don't know.

And you?

Good evening.

I just woke up.

It's 6 a.m. here.

Where are you now?

Pakistan? Afghanistan? Vietnam?

I'd like to have a phone
number so I could call you.

I hate leaving messages that
you'll play who knows when.

I dreamed about you. You were inside me.

We weren't making love, we were one body.

It was lovely, warm, peaceful, serene...

There, my Jeremy.

I wanted to tell you
this before I forgot.

I love you.

See you soon.

I'm not in a hotel. I'm at Natasha's.

She can call me any time she wants.

It's not the same...
Because she's my daughter.

In a hotel or at Natasha's,
she can call me on my mobile.

Is she there? Tell her
to call me tomorrow.

Okay? I love you too.

Is she better? Natasha, is she better?

No.

Will you stay at her place?

What's that great love story of hers?

She always spoke about the guy
she fell in love with at school.

She still loves you. Do you know that?

Yes.

And you?

Still seeking adventure?

What's your thing?
Doctors Without Borders?

No.

Anyway, it's all the same.

You came back because
you love her, right?

I don't know.

Did you know that...

Mylene’s father and her...

Go on.

They were lovers.

Why are you telling me this?

He wasn't the only one.

I could tell you a few stories.

So?

Nothing.

She lectured everyone.

But it didn't stop her screwing
married guys like Vadino.

You didn't know that, did you?

Hello. Is your husband here?

Yes.

She interrupted the baptism
in front of friends and family.

I couldn't sleep that night.

My wife was crying silently.

I'm not saying we were right...

Do what you want, say what you want.

To your children, to
your wife, to the cops.

Kiss, fight...

Natasha can no longer
do anything for you.

And I don't want to do anything for you.

It's your responsibility. Entirely yours.

Hello?

On a road, I'm walking,
it's a nice day...

No, I'm not back yet.

I don't know. Not straight away.

I said I'm walking on a road,
it's a nice day, I can see the sea.

I'll tell you what's
happening. I'm giving up.

I'm giving up politics.

Because politics is now
divorced from reality and ideals.

Because whenever we act...

Of course, I speak for those who act,

not for those who do
nothing, they're even worse.

But those of us who
believe they're acting,

who think they're fighting,

face an insurmountable
wall called realism.

Not reality but realism.
You must respect opinions

feelings, sensitivities, priorities...

No one takes positions on principle,

there are no idealistic,
radical positions.

Are you going to Marseille?

Can you take me?

Yes, I'm hitch-hiking.

When I'm settled she
can visit me on weekends.

I'll see her just as often
because I won't be travelling.

Kiss her for me. I love you.

Thanks.

I've made a decision. Your
folks won't see me on TV any more.

I'm quitting my position
at the Health Ministry.

I'm resigning.

I've mailed the letter.

I knew you were right
not wanting to leave.

It wasn't people I wanted
to save, it was humanity.

Saving people wasn't enough.

I wanted greater powers.

Let those born to power stick with it.

It's their thing, they're
comfortable with it.

The rest of us are made
to be in opposition.

Always. Viscerally.

We belong to that "ordinary" France.

Only you can understand what I'm saying.

We're the same, you and I.

"I'll tell you how it happened.

"It was December 24. Suddenly
a fierce mistral began blowing,

"fierce enough to dehorn
the Camargue bulls,

"uproot the olive trees of
Crau or the pines of Alpilles.

"The mistral, God's good friend,

"had chased the clouds
thousands of kilometres

"to clear the sky and
make it bright with stars.

"The sky was sparkling clean."

I'm a murderer.

I'm a murderer.

I showed them the door,
calling them beggars and bums.

I threw them out into the street.

I'll never forgive myself.

I'm a criminal.

I'll order a comfortable
covered carriage.

It'll take you to the house.

You'll have the best,
warmest room, my room.

You can stay as long as you want.

Till your last days, if you wish.

You won't have to worry about anything.

- You're very kind.
- Don't go to so much trouble.

What am I to do with all
this kindness in my heart,

alone in this empty house?

Come...

I don't want to see him.

He'll never marry my daughter.

Why not? He's young and handsome.

Stay out of my family business.

What happened to your kindness?

I can't do this.

I can't give my daughter...
to a fife player.

Where's your baby?

It's not born yet.

But I'm fine!

You're right, Joseph. Take her home.

Come on...

All of you come and
receive the good news!

Come, everyone!

Come and welcome the good news!

Come on, everyone, let's
welcome the good news!

Come and wait!

Is she cured?

Get in.

Thanks, but we'll take the stairs.

What do we do?

Do we stop?

Do we carry on?

Don't worry, we'll carry on.

We'll carry on.

We carry on.

Subtitles: Burmanx for KG