Soeurs (2019) - full transcript
Just take your things.
Hurry up, please.
Don't tell me to hurry up.
I'll take my time.
- A rider's waiting!
- Don't bark at me.
Is this the lot?
Get a move on.
Say that again,
and I'll take even longer.
- Anything else?
- No, this is it.
Pass it to me.
Here.
Come on!
I left a Council meeting for this?
No one asked you to come.
I'm not a removal man, OK?
There isn't much at all.
She didn't take everything.
She didn't?
Thank God for that!
Give it here.
Here.
Thanks.
Just chill out!
My God!
Put everything away.
I want it all in the bedroom.
Mess gives me a headache.
Don't shout, please.
There, that's it.
We'll put everything away.
You won't even notice her.
How long is she staying?
- I don't know.
- How long are you staying?
A few weeks maybe.
A few weeks?
We won't upset your routine.
Don't worry.
It'll be fine.
If you hadn't divorced,
we wouldn't be in this mess.
Nothing would have happened.
Why did you divorce?
You're asking me now why I divorced?
I did it for you.
It's for you that I divorced.
For your freedom.
So you would be free.
That's why.
Why ask her that?
Can't we ask questions here?
You just decided to ask her now?
I want to understand.
Right now, today?
You turn up with all your stuff
and decide to ask her that,
when she's welcoming you
into her home.
OK, how much is it?
- What?
- The price of the room?
We can't ask questions.
What are the rules?
You're the oldest, say something!
Just because I'm the eldest
doesn't mean I have to...
put my foot down.
Norah's tired.
We're tired.
You're tired at your age?
You think I'm made of iron?
That's enough.
She needs to be here now.
By your side, even.
It's her way of being there.
Not to bother you
but to bring you comfort.
It was 29 years ago
your father abducted him.
My son, vanished.
Don't put that candle there!
He isn't dead.
If you hadn't divorced,
we wouldn't have been abducted.
And you'd be with Redah now.
I wish I'd died over there.
May God preserve you.
As for you,
you condemned Redah
by not bringing him home.
Mom, don't say that.
She did her best.
It isn't nice.
You failed.
In the name of Allah the Beneficent
and the Merciful.
On television
four days ago,
they said they had found a man
who'd been abducted by his father.
Like you.
They found him 52 years later.
I pray God...
will keep me alive until I find you.
SISTERS
It's our first day of rehearsals.
I'd like each of you to briefly tell me
your name, who you are
and which part you're playing.
Me, I'm Zorah.
I'm the eldest daughter.
And everything rests
on your shoulders.
Yes.
- Sérine, you.
- I'm Djamila,
the younger sister,
and we don't get on.
All right.
Maissa?
I'm Norah in the play,
I'm the youngest
and I'm kidnapped by my father.
He takes me back to Algeria.
And abandons you.
Is the whole family here?
No, Redah isn't.
Our little brother.
Where's Redah?
Sleeping next door.
All right.
And you have...
- Our mother.
- Played by my daughter Farah.
We'll do the scene
where the father comes in.
As you know, the father
is a military man.
A former soldier.
Are you sitting properly?
- No, we're not straight.
- Go on, then.
- We have to sit up.
- That's it.
You must always sit like that.
Don't forget it.
Good.
Great.
You are them.
There's no more you.
You are them.
This territory,
this house, what is it?
Algeria!
Don't forget we're in France.
But this house is Algeria.
At French school,
they'll manipulate your minds
and try to turn you
into little French girls.
Don't listen to your teachers.
What I want
is for you to be the best.
But do we learn or not?
Why must we learn from our enemy?
- To defeat him.
- What else?
For freedom.
- And for independence.
- For independence.
The war is over.
You, shut up!
- They're soldiers.
- They're children.
Zorah!
The alphabet.
Djamila.
Norah.
Very good.
The salute!
And now, the national anthem.
As soon as the Algerian war began,
my sister and I joined the Maquis.
We fought alongside the men.
But we were women...
We were women.
Stop!
This way!
Long live free Algeria!
Keep still, keep still!
He sacked me after 28 days.
Before he was obliged
to give me a contract.
Gross misconduct he said,
for insulting him.
He's the one who insulted me.
Don't worry,
you'll find another job.
I'm sure it won't take you long.
Except every employer
gets rid of me after 28 days.
So I never get a contract,
and no contract means no apartment.
I understand, but...
You know as well as I do,
you can't be rude to people.
- But he was rude to me!
- All right...
You could take my side for once.
It isn't that, it's just...
I know what you're like.
- Sorry?
- I know what you're like.
I was hoping for some sympathy,
but you just run me into the ground.
Are your pills in your bag?
- Want a sniff?
- Yes, please!
Smells like roses.
Smells like perfume.
Look at her!
- Stop it!
- Hold on.
Hold on, it's smudged!
There...
You can put it on yourself.
Hang on.
- Push, Norah!
- That's it!
Come on, jump!
Jump!
Jump.
Jump...
Where are the others?
- Behind me!
- Behind you? Jump!
Come on, push!
Push!
Go open the door.
This is all your fault.
It's your fault!
It's your fault, isn't it?
Out the way!
Don't touch me!
- Sit down, like your sisters!
- Stop it!
Look at your daughter's lips!
Leave her alone!
Show your mother your lips!
Tell me!
Tell me what I've done!
- Go!
- I'm going to kill you all!
All of you!
Don't move, don't move!
Don't fucking move!
Stop!
Stop!
Get out! Get out!
- Get out!
- Come with us!
You wanna play?
You wanna play?
OK, the Ahmed character...
Who is he?
A hero or a bastard?
It isn't terribly clear
what his position is in the play,
what sort of father figure he is.
Your daughter plays your mother.
She's the spitting image of her grandma.
It all needs more explanation.
Brothers, sisters,
father, mother,
grandmother, daughter...
it's muddled.
- Muddled?
- Yes, muddled.
And the program needs to be
at the printers by tonight.
Are you ill?
I just have a slight cold.
It's unsettling.
Even when I see the photo,
it takes me back to something
that I fled myself.
The past.
Thank you.
Here you go.
Thanks a lot.
This play revolves around...
the pivotal theme of resemblance.
OK. So...
we're doing a show
for the waxworks, right?
A kind of lookalike show?
Lookalikes?
I'm lost.
I don't know any more
what my position is in the play.
Three characters are on stage with us.
All right?
They all have dark eyes.
None has blue eyes.
- Where are you?
- One does have blue eyes.
She doesn't have blue eyes!
Just listen.
Blue eyes are a recessive trait.
Don't be evasive.
I feel like you're not with me.
No, but listen...
I know I've been rather absent.
I'm sorry,
I apologize,
but what really matters
is you lose yourself...
in your own exploration...
- Lose myself?
- ...of the character.
Yes, that's it.
Just let yourself be.
Because you're...
I lose myself and find your father.
Is that the idea?
But anyway...
you're not playing my father.
You are my father.
Sorry, that's where I'm totally lost.
It's good to be lost.
Being lost is a way of finding.
You need to let yourself go
as an actor
in your own imagination,
your subconscious imagination.
What happens on stage
isn't simply a moment in time,
it's also what happened,
what's beyond us,
what goes through each of us...
Hang on a sec.
Hang on.
What are we doing here?
A play or a documentary?
- That's my question.
- Well, listen, that...
It's funny,
because you've just put your finger
on what I've been unable to define
or express since the start.
So, yes... it's a documentary play.
Where's my place in all of this?
The fact is,
I never know who you're looking at.
Are you looking at me or your father?
I get the impression
you're making me pay for something.
In your mise en abyme,
I sometimes get the feeling that...
some of the rebounds hurt me.
Certain things you say hurt me.
I don't want you to feel bad...
but I don't want to be
the punching bag in this story.
Use your feelings!
- I don't understand.
- Sorry. All right?
Yes, yes, I'm fine.
It's just that I... Trust me.
I hate people
who ask you to trust them,
but you have to trust me.
In fact, trusting me,
when playing this part,
means trusting yourself.
It's agreeing
not being someone else,
but rather...
being as close as possible
to what this other represents for me.
In this case, my father.
That makes you my father in my play
but you're still you.
I'm with you.
- But I'm scared at times.
- That's what matters most right now.
I understand, but...
It's all right.
What we have to do
is stay together like this
right to the end...
and then we'll see.
That's all I ask.
As long as it lasts.
I'm with you.
I'm really with you.
- Thanks, Hassan.
- Look at me.
I'm with you.
I believe you.
Your father was in the unit
that freed us.
I continued the struggle with him
in France.
Run!
Stop!
Set the dog on them!
Attack, attack!
Come on!
Get up!
Stop! Heel.
She's worth ten fighters.
How's Mom?
She's always praying for you.
How did your contact find me?
Oh, we're very well organized,
we have everyone's address.
The FLN will win.
We shall overcome.
All these years,
I've been loyal to France,
loyal to my General De Gaulle,
loyal to the French army.
- What have you done?
- It's a matter of time.
- What have you done?
- It's a matter of time.
What do you mean?
Before what?
Before a FLN leader is arrested.
What have you done?
- Ali!
- Hear that?
- You've turned traitor.
- You're the traitor!
You've betrayed our martyrs!
A traitor, my brother's a traitor!
How could you do that?
4 YEARS
She just texted me.
"See you in 15 mins.
Does Norah want chocolate?"
- Want some hazelnut chocolate?
- Sure.
- It's Mom asking.
- OK.
Gran, what did you wear
when you were in the Maquis?
In the Maquis?
- We wore fatigues.
- Really? Not skirts?
Not skirts.
Combat fatigues.
Your hair loose?
I wore it tied with...
It was very long, down to here.
- Really?
- Yes.
And I was beautiful.
You still are.
My hair was like yours.
You look like me too.
- I do?
- Oh, yes.
Did you have
a particular way of walking?
Walking?
We were there to fight.
But didn't they show you...
how to walk or speak?
We were there to fight,
not parade down a catwalk!
No makeup or anything?
Nada. Makeup?
No.
Why ask me that?
Because I'm playing you.
In Mom's new play.
She never said.
What? You what?
I'm playing Gran in Mom's new play.
And you...
What's wrong?
What's all this about?
Playing me!
- Didn't you know?
- No!
It's based on Gran and Granddad,
on the Algerians who fought
for independence and all that.
There's even your role.
There's the three sisters... but small.
You didn't even tell me!
I'm asking you questions now.
Well, you should have said.
You could have asked me.
But it isn't...
People won't know, Gran.
- But we know.
- It's universal.
- Universal?
- Yeah, the life of lots of people.
It isn't the life of lots of people!
It's my life!
- Home!
- All right, Mom?
I've got lunch.
I bought your favorites.
I'll get some water.
I want a word with you.
Farah, could you...
What's up?
How's work going?
What are you doing?
I'm working.
I know that. But on what?
An old project of mine...
Where are we?
At the police station?
Everyone comfortable?
Don't play the victim!
- What...?
- They know about the play.
You told them?
It's your play,
you should be able to talk about it.
It isn't a secret.
When did you plan to tell us?
I don't know,
when the time was right.
We've just got started.
You haven't,
she's already rehearsing.
That isn't important.
I'm still writing.
Who are you to say
what's important?
It's my work, so....
But it concerns us too.
It isn't just your work.
How dare you do a play
about my life!
And mine!
I take inspiration where I find it.
You could at least tell us
without being so condescending
and superior about it.
- I'm not...
- You are, too.
Just speak normally,
explain nicely and calmly
without acting superior.
You'll see.
- No, I won't.
- OK, you won't.
- Never mind.
- Please,
just stop this play.
All right?
No, I can't do that.
I'm not 15, Mom.
I can't.
I have a responsibility.
I bring to life what I have...
to do, to be in my life.
That's all.
I don't mean to upset yours,
but at the same time I can't...
go against my own.
It's her freedom.
It won't harm you.
I've read it...
The fact she didn't tell us
is hurtful to me.
Forget hurt, I don't like it.
It isn't a film,
it's only temporary.
We'll never fully agree,
so there's no...
Why make a fuss about nothing?
So I don't have a choice?
About what?
About the play.
It's a version of reality. But it's...
You're the inspiration for it.
There's no reason
to feel ashamed or...
I'm not ashamed.
I'm a victim of something
I don't particularly want to see
on stage, with actors,
with people laughing and applauding.
I don't want to experience that.
I think the distance
you needed to write the play,
I don't feel it like you,
and I don't want to see autofiction
about what destroyed me.
I'm going back to France, Mom.
They'll live here.
- Like Algerians.
- Inshallah.
And die here like Algerians.
You're in charge now.
You're in charge, Mom.
Don't you worry, son.
Daddy!
Stay with me!
Let go of me!
Daddy!
That'll do!
Don't leave me!
Let go of me!
I want to see my father.
Moving on to item two on the agenda...
the CCTV cameras in St Martin's.
It has the most cameras
in the city already.
It's our test area.
- The tests have been done!
- Let me finish.
Now is not the time
for a debate between us
about St Martin's!
Even within your team,
there's disagreement.
- Please, Mr. Dahmane.
- You clearly don't agree.
I give the floor to Fanny Bellefeuille,
who is going to present
Sport for Life's project proposal.
It's an organization
that helps the over 75s,
Muslim women,
who are overweight
and mostly suffer from diabetes.
They want to make
the pilgrimage to Mecca,
to walk around the Kaaba.
They go real fast.
They go around the Kaaba stone.
I imagine your mother's done it.
Excuse me,
what do you mean by that?
Oh, I thought you knew it.
Sorry, Mrs. Bellefeuille,
no better than you.
But let's move on.
Please, go on.
So the organization
is requesting 3,000 euros...
I'm appalled, Madam Mayor,
it will encourage radicalization.
Don't be ridiculous!
They're 75 and obese,
they're hardly jihadists!
OK, fine,
this year it's old ladies,
next year it'll be young girls!
We take everyone to Mecca
on taxpayer money, do we?
Is there a religious element?
Absolutely not.
It's sports oriented.
I don't believe this.
Madam Mayor,
why fund a project to Mecca?
It could just as well be Lourdes.
I don't see the problem.
The meeting is closed.
Hello, Mom?
It's totally gross.
Don't you start, too!
What have I done now?
You're an actress!
Just try this on for me.
- It's well shabby.
- You're in the Maquis!
It's hideous!
You can't be serious.
Look, try it.
Ah, it's filthy.
It reeks too. Yuck!
- Why are you so annoyed?
- I'm not annoyed!
I'd just like us to do things...
When you fight with your sisters,
you take it out on me.
What's wrong with you today?
What about you?
Look! You've lost your mind.
Stop making me wear crap.
No, I'm not.
And you stop talking crap!
Come back down to earth!
You act like you're Shakespeare,
like you created the story!
You didn't get the part
because I'm your mother...
You didn't write, I dunno, Othello!
Just stop, OK?
Stop what?
It's a true story.
You didn't invent anything!
And you're telling me
to come back down to earth!
- Just calm down.
- I am calm.
Mom, just look at it!
If you don't stop,
I swear I'll find someone else.
I don't give a shit.
Your play will suck!
It's seriously ugly.
What about my image?
The rehearsal's starting.
All right, Auntie?
- Yes, fine.
- Why are you here?
What's up?
Let me speak to your mother.
Battle stations!
Chill.
Have you thought
about the consequences?
Did you think of Mom first?
- I think of her all the time.
- I don't believe you.
If you had thought of her,
you wouldn't write a play
to stir up all this shit
and expose our family problems.
Stop using Mom as an excuse
to talk about yourself.
What are you trying to do?
Blow everything apart?
You want to destroy everything?
You're in politics,
I'm in the theater.
You think you're better than me?
Just because I'm a politician?
What is it with you?
You think it's more virtuous
to be indiscreet?
Talk about your problem,
how you feel about that country
and France,
but not about us!
You should stop being afraid.
Go see a fucking shrink
and talk about your problems
instead of serving us up!
Let's stop there.
All I'm hearing is fear, fear, fear,
keeping up appearances...
Appearances?
I'll show you.
Open your mouth.
Come on!
Drink!
Drink the wine...
Drink the French wine
and cry, "Long live France!"
Cry!
Long live France!
Stop, stop, that's enough!
That's enough.
What's going on?
What are you doing?
Leave her alone.
Just leave her alone!
- Are you mad?
- You're the mad one!
- It's just acting!
- You're a monster!
Calm down.
It's a play, not real life.
- It isn't serious.
- Get off her!
We're acting, Auntie.
We're working here!
- All right, honey?
- Yes.
She's fine!
- It's a role.
- And she wanted to play it.
She's so believable
that you get all hysterical
and fall headlong into a kind of trap!
Why put her in danger?
I auditioned for it.
I insisted, I promise you.
Putting us in danger
isn't enough for you, is it?
Look, Djamila, I understand...
Zorah, leave me alone.
That wasn't acting.
I'll tell you what it is:
nothing but bullshit!
Your mom doesn't care.
She's decided to hurt her sisters,
to hurt her own daughter
and her own mother.
You have no qualms at all.
I'd say there's a scene missing.
This one.
Perfect catharsis.
- Mom, don't.
- Your mother is insane.
Sorry, I have to go.
I'll leave you...
between sisters.
- Thanks.
- Goodbye.
We'll stop there for today.
BROTHERS
Why are you up?
Go back to bed.
- Do you feel sick?
- Of course not.
- Are you sure?
- Yes, don't worry.
- It's really late.
- I know.
Or very early.
- But you're not sick?
- No.
You haven't slept.
Lacking inspiration?
It'll come, but you need rest.
It isn't by...
staying up all night every night...
It's just tonight.
You shouldn't, Mom.
- But I have to finish the play.
- You will.
I'll make you a strong coffee.
Act 3: Nothing, Nothingness
You need to recharge your batteries.
- Want a yogurt?
- No.
You know my pal Nasser?
- The small one?
- Yeah. He's a designer now.
And, well...
he's offered to make
my costume for the play.
My resistance fighter's outfit.
I don't understand.
My freedom fighter's outfit.
What could he possibly contribute?
Well, a fresh idea.
You know, something...
with a modern touch.
Plus he's a feminist like you.
- We're all feminists now.
- Yeah, like you!
Why judge people
you don't even know?
Try focusing on what
you have to do in the play...
Mom, let's at least see what he's got.
I don't see what the problem is.
Whenever I suggest stuff...
You want your curlers in
when I'm busy with rehearsals!
We usually do it at night.
I don't get it.
Well, I do!
I wasn't feeling well.
I needed you, that's all.
Are they in properly?
Hey, I didn't hurt you,
I didn't prick you.
You need to get yourself a man.
You can't stay single.
Why are you talking about me
and not Djamila?
- Look, Djamila...
- She's been divorced 10 years.
Djamila's been divorced 10 years
but Djamila is capable,
she's like a man.
Then she doesn't need to find one!
She's got the town hall, the...
She's got so much on her shoulders.
Look...
Look, my girl, my life...
it's a failure.
But I want my daughters to live.
- We are, Mom.
- You need to live.
You do your theater
but you need to live too.
Don't worry about us.
Thank you.
Don't mention it, Mom.
All right, Mom?
It's super pretty!
- OK, Auntie Zorah?
- And you?
Yeah, really good.
How's your mom?
She refuses to go blonde.
It probably isn't a great idea.
She's put on weight
and I want her to be Mae West
in a project of mine,
she has to be blonde.
Listen...
Farah mentioned the costume
you're making for the play,
but all the costumes
have been greenlighted,
including for Farah's character.
He knows that.
You could at least try to be nice.
He's here to pitch his idea.
Auntie Zorah,
I did my research
on what the women fighters
wore in Algeria then.
She showed me her outfit.
No offence, but...
Can I call you ma'am?
It sounds more pro
and it helps me...
It does, I promise you.
What did the Maquis give them?
Pants.
It's like Marlene Dietrich.
If she hadn't worn slacks in WW2,
she wouldn't be an icon.
It wasn't The Blue Angel
and all her simpering.
Simpering, simpering,
I wouldn't put it like that but...
You haven't seen it?
- What?
- The Blue Angel.
Yes, I've seen it.
Can I show you then
what I've made her?
I'd rather you kept...
- Just look!
- It's better if I show you.
- Go on, then.
- Like Sternberg was for Marlene,
I can be her Sternberg
and transform her.
I reinterpreted Marlene's slacks.
You can't change
something so iconic.
They don't work on Farah,
with her long torso and short legs.
Mannish trousers
don't flatter long torsos.
So I decided to give the jacket
the women fighters wore
my own twist...
And here it is!
Isn't it great?
It's a really strong symbol.
Don't you think?
Everything's already organized.
Everything's made.
Farah, it's time for rehearsals.
Yes, but...
Creating is all about searching.
I could just rehearse in it.
It's kind of you, but...
Shall we try it out?
No!
We will not try it out.
Farah, I'm sorry.
I could always film the rehearsals.
Is there anything you can't do?
- You wouldn't refuse Gaultier.
- I'm multidisciplinary.
- I'm so open...
- Yes, a true artist.
Right, we really have to go.
Sorry, Nasser.
Give your mom a big kiss
from me.
Thanks, good luck.
Goodbye.
I could see she loved it.
She's just pissed off
it was my idea.
She's like an argumentative teen.
I said it was her loss,
but no one else wants it either.
Farah's ready.
What's that jacket?
You're women now.
Zorah's going to have a big party.
Zorah...
you'll do the family proud.
Did your mother tell you?
- What about?
- Didn't you tell her?
What party?
Your mother will explain.
Sit up straight.
- He wants to marry you off.
- What?
He meant your wedding.
Me, married?
She's too young.
What about school?
We're leaving.
I'm divorcing him.
I'll divorce him and we'll go.
- Where?
- We'll see.
- We're all leaving.
- Where will we go?
I don't know!
No one is getting married.
Out you go.
- Stop.
- Stop?
Ask for a divorce.
Go on, ask for a divorce.
Come see your mother.
She wants freedom.
Don't touch them!
Mommy wants to leave you.
Go to Mommy.
She's French now.
Over there!
Move it!
Go on!
Look at your mother.
Your mother wants to kill Daddy.
Look at her!
- She wants to kill Daddy!
- Run!
Come here, you!
You're staying with me.
I'll take Redah.
You two go home.
As the father had
the family record book,
he could prove
he was the children's father.
Sadly, their removal is not wrongful.
He is legally entitled
to move the children to Algeria.
The French state has no jurisdiction
to order their return.
France cannot do anything for you.
- You're late! Mom can't be alone.
- It isn't my fault!
Oh, yeah?
I've got school.
Go on, get home now!
- Stop doing that to me!
- Move it!
Quick, do the hopscotch!
Mom?
Mom!
Mom?
All right, Mom?
Where's Norah?
I had a call from Algiers.
Your father's had a stroke.
A stroke?
A stroke. ST-RO-KE!
I can't believe it!
He can't have.
That play of yours
has stirred things up.
Everything.
He who scrapes
the bottom of the pot
brings scum to the surface!
- This is your doing.
- Who called you?
A relative.
Now listen to me.
He's at Algiers Hospital.
You'll go with your sisters
to visit your father in hospital.
He will see Norah.
It's been 29 years since he saw her.
When he sees Norah,
he'll say where Redah is,
where he abandoned him.
No, but...
I can't do it,
I can't relive that.
I can't make Norah relive that.
You're the eldest,
you have to tell them.
And take them there!
It's an opportunity.
He's weak, he'll talk.
He'll say where he hid my son!
He took my son from me.
He stole my son!
Fucking hell!
Shouting won't help!
Be careful!
Take him!
She's hurt her foot.
Careful.
Come back!
You'll pay for this.
Get in! I have to go now.
I swear, you'll never see him again!
Go back home!
You've betrayed us all.
I've just had news of my father.
He's had a stroke.
- A big one?
- Yes.
He's fighting for his life.
So I have to go to Algiers.
- Right away?
- Yes.
With my sisters.
I have to talk to him.
As you know,
we're rehearsing with the girls...
Yeah.
Do you see which scene?
Yeah.
So I'm going to ask you
to replace me.
Could you?
Can I count on you?
Sure you can.
But do it without anyone realizing.
- You know...
- It's between us.
I don't want anyone to know I've gone.
What I'd like us to do today
is a few warm-up exercises.
Where's Zorah?
Just imagine she's here.
I'm going to film us.
We're not used to working with you.
Yeah, well, now's the time to.
OK, let's start.
- Line up.
- In costume?
- No, not in costume.
- Without?
That's right.
No, but to be in the actor's shoes.
Let's just try to warm up
and have fun out of costume.
I don't need my wig then?
You can take it off.
I'll be more relaxed.
Shall we get started?
- All together!
- I don't want to.
It's boring.
- What?
- I don't like it.
You don't like what?
We're not comfortable.
We were not used
to doing things this way.
Which scene are we doing?
After school,
you're walking along
and you run into the father...
That's what I meant!
- You're the father.
- That's right.
You won't be the director
but the character!
The dad.
You're the dad in the scene.
It's logical!
Help me here.
Without you on stage with us,
we're kind of lost.
- We need Zorah.
- Right!
Look, Zorah isn't in my pocket,
she isn't here...
Where is she?
How about we have a drink
and talk about Zorah?
- OK, then.
- Right, let's go. Thanks.
And be nice.
Then get on stage with us.
- Do it without me.
- No.
- OK!
- We can't do it without you.
Let's do it.
The dad's here. Go on!
And he's going to show you...
Come on!
Forget the director!
I'm the father now,
so watch out!
- Fine!
- Go on!
Hey, what are you doing?
Well?
What are you playing at?
Come here!
What are you doing?
- Look at the stage!
- I forgot.
Look at the stage!
We play to an audience.
Well?
Don't stray from the stage.
Stay here and look that way.
Let me give you a hug.
Let's have a group hug.
I'm really sorry.
It's hard for me, too.
Come on, don't be scared.
Fuck... I'm sorry!
Who's going to speak to her?
Not me.
You have to.
Quiet, please!
We're under Tarzan's tree, OK?
The film was made here,
the one and only Tarzan,
in 1934,
with a very famous actor
called Johnny Weissmuller.
The next one who speaks
will swing from that creeper!
You'll be Tarzan for real.
Now listen!
I was supposed
to have a Chinese group.
No one warned me.
I'm not used to children.
Did you know Cheetah was Algerian?
Yes!
When she left Algeria,
she was supposed to come home
but she was so sad to have left
that she died of sorrow.
She was very sad.
She wanted to stay here!
She wanted to stay in Algeria.
She was unhappy to leave.
Did you actually
take in anything I said?
Or nothing at all?
They didn't understand.
- Really?
- They couldn't hear.
Soumaya's lucky to work here.
- Are you Djamila?
- No, I'm Djamila.
You OK?
Hey, you're all gorgeous!
You OK? How are you, Djamila?
How's that for kismet?
A sad reason for a reunion.
- Did you find it easily?
- Yes.
It's so incredible, I'm shaking.
I'm vibrating like a cell phone!
I'm that moved.
- Are you married?
- No way!
Welcome home, girls!
It's a shame
about the circumstances.
That's kismet for you.
I'll drop you at the hospital.
It won't be easy.
Be strong.
That's better.
It had to come out.
Take a deep breath.
Where's room 4, please?
- Third floor.
- On the left.
I can't do this!
- What are you doing?
- I don't want to go.
- Don't do that!
- I can't go.
What do you mean?
We're here now.
You two go. I can't do it.
Norah, we're here. OK?
Please. I can't do it.
It's too late.
I'm not stopping you,
but I'm not going.
Norah, the three of us have to go.
It's important.
- No, go without me.
- What do you mean?
We came all this way for nothing?
Don't be such a Parisian bobo!
- Stop it, you two.
- Don't you start.
- Don't you start!
- Start what?
We're here,
and you're coming!
Don't go there!
I'm 40 and I'll do what I like, OK?
Yes, OK!
I'll do what I want!
- Stop, you two!
- Get out of my face!
Don't do that!
- Don't make that gesture!
- What's that?
I'm not your kid!
Say something, you!
Don't you see
how's she talking to me?
How I'm talking to you?
Stop giving me orders!
I'm your big sister.
Show some respect!
I don't give a shit.
Go fuck your fa....!
What? Say that again!
Don't get into such a state.
- Don't make me get nasty!
- Just calm down.
- You shoved me?
- Calm down!
Don't shove me!
With that fucking hairdo...
you think I don't see
what you look like?
- A Frenchwoman!
- Fucking bobo!
Yeah, right!
You fucking bitch!
- What?
- That's right!
- Look at your fucking self!
- Yeah! Fuck you, bitch!
That's enough, you two!
Just stop this!
The pair of you are insane!
Get off her!
Look, look!
Why are you doing that?
It's shameful. Shame on you!
Where's the other gentleman?
When?
When he left,
did he say anything?
Not to me.
He didn't say anything.
Is he dead?
No, he isn't dead.
He walked out of here.
He left yesterday.
- He's dead.
- He isn't dead!
Don't be stupid.
He isn't dead!
Norah, wait!
I don't believe this.
Hello?
Hello? Yes, Soumaya.
Listen... we went to the hospital
and he wasn't there.
He's gone.
I'm really worried about Norah.
Can you pick us up?
We're at Audin Square.
Stay there.
Zorah, I'm coming with you.
No. I'll go on my own.
I was 18 when I last saw him...
The ruling.
My dad abducted...
Dad kidnapped Norah and Redah,
my little brother and sister.
My little brother is two.
He shouldn't be taken away.
He needs his mommy.
Madam, this ruling is French.
We're in Algeria here.
Pursuant to Article 87,
paragraph 3, of the Family Code
the law only recognizes
the authority of the father.
The children will remain in Algeria,
in accordance with the father's wishes.
Sir, it's an abduction.
He abducted them!
Next, please!
Mrs. Benamar!
Next, please!
Sir! Please!
Mrs. Benamar, please!
Please, sir!
Madam, that's enough!
Don't touch me!
Stop!
Allow me to explain.
Algerian law
is Algerian law!
The children will remain here...
It's an abduction.
It's totally different.
That's enough!
Mrs. Benamar, please!
Tyrant!
She ought to be ashamed!
In this sort of investigation,
we don't know
the face we're looking for.
It's a man
we're looking for now.
The child you're looking for is dead.
It's my failure, alone.
No, it isn't.
I'm the one who failed.
We're in Algiers now,
my sisters and I,
because we're looking
for our father.
He was...
at Algiers Hospital but he's vanished.
So we have to find him.
Only he knows where Redah is.
Only he can tell us where Redah is.
So I'd just like to know if you've had
any information about him.
He's either gone back to France
or he's at his home in Tizi Ouzou.
If he's still alive.
What did they tell you at the hospital?
The same thing as you.
Will we see your mom?
She's dead.
May she rest in peace.
Sorry, I didn't know.
It's all right.
You couldn't have known.
We hadn't spoken in ages.
I wasn't going
to call you and say,
"Hi, Mom's dead"
when we had no ties.
I called about your father.
You know what I think?
You're jerking us around.
How?
Because you see us as foreigners.
What?
- Let me speak!
- Don't go there.
Don't you start!
I'll say what I like.
I let you speak,
so let me speak.
Let her speak.
Go on!
- You see us as foreigners.
- Foreigners?
For you, this isn't our home.
- I don't understand.
- You do, too!
- Why'd you cut ties with us?
- I didn't!
Because we were there?
You grow up in France,
you live in France,
you want to be French,
then you come here and preach.
There are no Algerians in France?
That's rich!
You're Algerian now?
Our generation...
We don't understand you.
It's like you beg
to be loved over there
and over here, too.
We don't know where you're heading.
You need our acceptance
because they reject you.
That's why you say,
"Actually, we're Algerian.
- "We failed there."
- We fought so hard
to put down roots,
for our integration in France,
it's not surprising
she finds it strange
or absurd that we try...
to claim to be Algerian!
That's why I wrote the play.
For that.
In order to challenge
everything in the history books
that in no way corresponds
to the flesh of reality.
Can you stop making
everything about your play?
We're talking about abduction.
She pisses me off!
You came looking for a truth
you don't want to hear.
We came for our brother.
We're trying to forget
about ten years of terrorism,
hundreds of thousands of victims.
- Where were you then?
- We did what we could.
But I don't know if we were heard.
You should learn to forget.
We learned to forget
on our own.
You're telling us
to forget about someone
who may or may not be alive?
I didn't say to stop looking.
Can you see the three of us
saying to our mother,
"Forget about your son"?
So can you help us?
Will you help us?
I've had no news yet.
May I have this dance?
I share the place with Zouina,
who's a cousin.
Not on your side but mine.
Auntie's place is more like
an old folks' home!
Is Tizi Ouzou far?
How many hours' drive?
Tizi Ouzou is...
It depends on your luck.
Between one and two hours,
depending on the traffic.
This is it.
It's an Algerian door!
Come in.
How are you?
Come on, girls.
My cousins from France.
A big hand
for the cousins from France!
Make yourselves at home.
Norah!
Come on.
We'll just drop our things.
- Carry on.
- I've got one!
"They can get lost!"
That isn't the question.
We must stay united.
It's never been the question!
What is it, then?
The place of Algerian women!
We've always stood up
to defend the people.
You use us and he says,
"We're talking about you."
Now! Now!
Now that's a slogan!
What's going on next door?
The people you saw in there
are people that I've brought together
for the march for freedom
against the fifth term.
And tomorrow, at long last,
it's the protest march.
There's a protest tomorrow?
It's the first big one.
And I think...
Do you have permission?
We don't, Djamila.
Those people you saw
spent the night here.
Inventing slogans, getting organized...
Some are mothers.
We're all here together
and we're full of hope.
Only you can help us tomorrow.
What do we do now?
It's complicated.
People are counting on me.
I can't go with you tomorrow.
Let's split.
We stay put.
Give me her bag.
- We're leaving.
- To go where?
Have you had your pill?
- It's the middle of the night!
- We stay put.
She's all we have.
We're in the shit.
How will we manage without her?
Lie down and take those boots off.
They irritate me!
You should drop a pill.
Can you help me?
Can you do it?
See you later.
I'm so sorry.
Soumaya told us
about your tragedy.
Thanks for having us.
It's been madness here lately.
How do you get organized?
It's self-organization.
Social media, Facebook.
We each contact our friends
and arrange to meet.
Which political party is it?
There isn't one.
There is no party.
Revolutions start with the people
before being led by one or two people.
Ours will be, too.
And then, inshallah,
figures will emerge to lead it.
But step by step.
Three generations
will be on the streets.
We have 60 million followers.
Hey, we're 42 million.
60 million!
Hey, you killjoys!
We're lots anyway.
To think in my municipality,
I barely get a thousand at a meeting!
Stop comparing, Djamila.
We doctors held protests
a few months ago.
It ended badly.
We got massacred.
That's why it mustn't be
doctors, lawyers...
This time it's the people.
Are any of you familiar
with Article 87?
Which allows men
to steal children.
In the Family Code?
Yes.
It isn't a priority.
It never is.
We need to set up
real institutions first.
Everything comes in its own time.
Things will change now.
Tomorrow is the big day.
We just have to start.
And it's tomorrow.
Tomorrow...
And could things degenerate?
We don't know.
We've no idea what tomorrow holds.
The thing is,
we have to go to Tizi Ouzou.
Sorry to talk about us.
It's your father...
Your father has just died.
He'll be buried first thing tomorrow
in Tizi Ouzou.
We belong to God
and to God we return.
I'm sorry.
Wake your sisters and tell them.
No, I won't wake them.
We'll let them sleep.
There'll be family at the funeral.
They can tell you about Redah.
My condolences.
Right, two things, everyone.
We never know.
No, I'll stay put.
I'll deal with any casualties.
We'll be thinking of you!
Let's go!
Stay together and be careful.
Please leave. Quickly.
Well?
She's sleeping.
How is she?
She's having a schizophrenic episode.
She didn't recognize me.
Weren't you aware of her condition?
See you.
For 20 years,
I've been writing a letter.
Writing a letter to you.
For 20 years,
I've repeated sentences,
questions,
imagined your answers...
And this letter shields my life.
This letter...
It prevents me from living
the life I deserve.
I cannot fall in love,
I cannot build.
I cannot find peace.
And at my age I should be at peace.
I'm too old to be tormented, Dad.
I always thought,
"He'll give me his answers,
he'll explain.
"He'll explain about the abduction.
"He'll explain..."
And now...
you've taken your reasons with you.
I can't help thinking
you did it deliberately.
You did it deliberately
to prevent us from growing up.
You don't want me to grow up, in fact.
And I just want to see my brother.
Just find my little brother.
You better help us find him,
or else I'll never forgive you.
I'll never forgive you.
Stop the legal kidnapping of children
Algeria, do not forget them
People of Algeria, do not forget us!
Subtitles by Susannah Rooke
Subtitling TITRAFILM
Hurry up, please.
Don't tell me to hurry up.
I'll take my time.
- A rider's waiting!
- Don't bark at me.
Is this the lot?
Get a move on.
Say that again,
and I'll take even longer.
- Anything else?
- No, this is it.
Pass it to me.
Here.
Come on!
I left a Council meeting for this?
No one asked you to come.
I'm not a removal man, OK?
There isn't much at all.
She didn't take everything.
She didn't?
Thank God for that!
Give it here.
Here.
Thanks.
Just chill out!
My God!
Put everything away.
I want it all in the bedroom.
Mess gives me a headache.
Don't shout, please.
There, that's it.
We'll put everything away.
You won't even notice her.
How long is she staying?
- I don't know.
- How long are you staying?
A few weeks maybe.
A few weeks?
We won't upset your routine.
Don't worry.
It'll be fine.
If you hadn't divorced,
we wouldn't be in this mess.
Nothing would have happened.
Why did you divorce?
You're asking me now why I divorced?
I did it for you.
It's for you that I divorced.
For your freedom.
So you would be free.
That's why.
Why ask her that?
Can't we ask questions here?
You just decided to ask her now?
I want to understand.
Right now, today?
You turn up with all your stuff
and decide to ask her that,
when she's welcoming you
into her home.
OK, how much is it?
- What?
- The price of the room?
We can't ask questions.
What are the rules?
You're the oldest, say something!
Just because I'm the eldest
doesn't mean I have to...
put my foot down.
Norah's tired.
We're tired.
You're tired at your age?
You think I'm made of iron?
That's enough.
She needs to be here now.
By your side, even.
It's her way of being there.
Not to bother you
but to bring you comfort.
It was 29 years ago
your father abducted him.
My son, vanished.
Don't put that candle there!
He isn't dead.
If you hadn't divorced,
we wouldn't have been abducted.
And you'd be with Redah now.
I wish I'd died over there.
May God preserve you.
As for you,
you condemned Redah
by not bringing him home.
Mom, don't say that.
She did her best.
It isn't nice.
You failed.
In the name of Allah the Beneficent
and the Merciful.
On television
four days ago,
they said they had found a man
who'd been abducted by his father.
Like you.
They found him 52 years later.
I pray God...
will keep me alive until I find you.
SISTERS
It's our first day of rehearsals.
I'd like each of you to briefly tell me
your name, who you are
and which part you're playing.
Me, I'm Zorah.
I'm the eldest daughter.
And everything rests
on your shoulders.
Yes.
- Sérine, you.
- I'm Djamila,
the younger sister,
and we don't get on.
All right.
Maissa?
I'm Norah in the play,
I'm the youngest
and I'm kidnapped by my father.
He takes me back to Algeria.
And abandons you.
Is the whole family here?
No, Redah isn't.
Our little brother.
Where's Redah?
Sleeping next door.
All right.
And you have...
- Our mother.
- Played by my daughter Farah.
We'll do the scene
where the father comes in.
As you know, the father
is a military man.
A former soldier.
Are you sitting properly?
- No, we're not straight.
- Go on, then.
- We have to sit up.
- That's it.
You must always sit like that.
Don't forget it.
Good.
Great.
You are them.
There's no more you.
You are them.
This territory,
this house, what is it?
Algeria!
Don't forget we're in France.
But this house is Algeria.
At French school,
they'll manipulate your minds
and try to turn you
into little French girls.
Don't listen to your teachers.
What I want
is for you to be the best.
But do we learn or not?
Why must we learn from our enemy?
- To defeat him.
- What else?
For freedom.
- And for independence.
- For independence.
The war is over.
You, shut up!
- They're soldiers.
- They're children.
Zorah!
The alphabet.
Djamila.
Norah.
Very good.
The salute!
And now, the national anthem.
As soon as the Algerian war began,
my sister and I joined the Maquis.
We fought alongside the men.
But we were women...
We were women.
Stop!
This way!
Long live free Algeria!
Keep still, keep still!
He sacked me after 28 days.
Before he was obliged
to give me a contract.
Gross misconduct he said,
for insulting him.
He's the one who insulted me.
Don't worry,
you'll find another job.
I'm sure it won't take you long.
Except every employer
gets rid of me after 28 days.
So I never get a contract,
and no contract means no apartment.
I understand, but...
You know as well as I do,
you can't be rude to people.
- But he was rude to me!
- All right...
You could take my side for once.
It isn't that, it's just...
I know what you're like.
- Sorry?
- I know what you're like.
I was hoping for some sympathy,
but you just run me into the ground.
Are your pills in your bag?
- Want a sniff?
- Yes, please!
Smells like roses.
Smells like perfume.
Look at her!
- Stop it!
- Hold on.
Hold on, it's smudged!
There...
You can put it on yourself.
Hang on.
- Push, Norah!
- That's it!
Come on, jump!
Jump!
Jump.
Jump...
Where are the others?
- Behind me!
- Behind you? Jump!
Come on, push!
Push!
Go open the door.
This is all your fault.
It's your fault!
It's your fault, isn't it?
Out the way!
Don't touch me!
- Sit down, like your sisters!
- Stop it!
Look at your daughter's lips!
Leave her alone!
Show your mother your lips!
Tell me!
Tell me what I've done!
- Go!
- I'm going to kill you all!
All of you!
Don't move, don't move!
Don't fucking move!
Stop!
Stop!
Get out! Get out!
- Get out!
- Come with us!
You wanna play?
You wanna play?
OK, the Ahmed character...
Who is he?
A hero or a bastard?
It isn't terribly clear
what his position is in the play,
what sort of father figure he is.
Your daughter plays your mother.
She's the spitting image of her grandma.
It all needs more explanation.
Brothers, sisters,
father, mother,
grandmother, daughter...
it's muddled.
- Muddled?
- Yes, muddled.
And the program needs to be
at the printers by tonight.
Are you ill?
I just have a slight cold.
It's unsettling.
Even when I see the photo,
it takes me back to something
that I fled myself.
The past.
Thank you.
Here you go.
Thanks a lot.
This play revolves around...
the pivotal theme of resemblance.
OK. So...
we're doing a show
for the waxworks, right?
A kind of lookalike show?
Lookalikes?
I'm lost.
I don't know any more
what my position is in the play.
Three characters are on stage with us.
All right?
They all have dark eyes.
None has blue eyes.
- Where are you?
- One does have blue eyes.
She doesn't have blue eyes!
Just listen.
Blue eyes are a recessive trait.
Don't be evasive.
I feel like you're not with me.
No, but listen...
I know I've been rather absent.
I'm sorry,
I apologize,
but what really matters
is you lose yourself...
in your own exploration...
- Lose myself?
- ...of the character.
Yes, that's it.
Just let yourself be.
Because you're...
I lose myself and find your father.
Is that the idea?
But anyway...
you're not playing my father.
You are my father.
Sorry, that's where I'm totally lost.
It's good to be lost.
Being lost is a way of finding.
You need to let yourself go
as an actor
in your own imagination,
your subconscious imagination.
What happens on stage
isn't simply a moment in time,
it's also what happened,
what's beyond us,
what goes through each of us...
Hang on a sec.
Hang on.
What are we doing here?
A play or a documentary?
- That's my question.
- Well, listen, that...
It's funny,
because you've just put your finger
on what I've been unable to define
or express since the start.
So, yes... it's a documentary play.
Where's my place in all of this?
The fact is,
I never know who you're looking at.
Are you looking at me or your father?
I get the impression
you're making me pay for something.
In your mise en abyme,
I sometimes get the feeling that...
some of the rebounds hurt me.
Certain things you say hurt me.
I don't want you to feel bad...
but I don't want to be
the punching bag in this story.
Use your feelings!
- I don't understand.
- Sorry. All right?
Yes, yes, I'm fine.
It's just that I... Trust me.
I hate people
who ask you to trust them,
but you have to trust me.
In fact, trusting me,
when playing this part,
means trusting yourself.
It's agreeing
not being someone else,
but rather...
being as close as possible
to what this other represents for me.
In this case, my father.
That makes you my father in my play
but you're still you.
I'm with you.
- But I'm scared at times.
- That's what matters most right now.
I understand, but...
It's all right.
What we have to do
is stay together like this
right to the end...
and then we'll see.
That's all I ask.
As long as it lasts.
I'm with you.
I'm really with you.
- Thanks, Hassan.
- Look at me.
I'm with you.
I believe you.
Your father was in the unit
that freed us.
I continued the struggle with him
in France.
Run!
Stop!
Set the dog on them!
Attack, attack!
Come on!
Get up!
Stop! Heel.
She's worth ten fighters.
How's Mom?
She's always praying for you.
How did your contact find me?
Oh, we're very well organized,
we have everyone's address.
The FLN will win.
We shall overcome.
All these years,
I've been loyal to France,
loyal to my General De Gaulle,
loyal to the French army.
- What have you done?
- It's a matter of time.
- What have you done?
- It's a matter of time.
What do you mean?
Before what?
Before a FLN leader is arrested.
What have you done?
- Ali!
- Hear that?
- You've turned traitor.
- You're the traitor!
You've betrayed our martyrs!
A traitor, my brother's a traitor!
How could you do that?
4 YEARS
She just texted me.
"See you in 15 mins.
Does Norah want chocolate?"
- Want some hazelnut chocolate?
- Sure.
- It's Mom asking.
- OK.
Gran, what did you wear
when you were in the Maquis?
In the Maquis?
- We wore fatigues.
- Really? Not skirts?
Not skirts.
Combat fatigues.
Your hair loose?
I wore it tied with...
It was very long, down to here.
- Really?
- Yes.
And I was beautiful.
You still are.
My hair was like yours.
You look like me too.
- I do?
- Oh, yes.
Did you have
a particular way of walking?
Walking?
We were there to fight.
But didn't they show you...
how to walk or speak?
We were there to fight,
not parade down a catwalk!
No makeup or anything?
Nada. Makeup?
No.
Why ask me that?
Because I'm playing you.
In Mom's new play.
She never said.
What? You what?
I'm playing Gran in Mom's new play.
And you...
What's wrong?
What's all this about?
Playing me!
- Didn't you know?
- No!
It's based on Gran and Granddad,
on the Algerians who fought
for independence and all that.
There's even your role.
There's the three sisters... but small.
You didn't even tell me!
I'm asking you questions now.
Well, you should have said.
You could have asked me.
But it isn't...
People won't know, Gran.
- But we know.
- It's universal.
- Universal?
- Yeah, the life of lots of people.
It isn't the life of lots of people!
It's my life!
- Home!
- All right, Mom?
I've got lunch.
I bought your favorites.
I'll get some water.
I want a word with you.
Farah, could you...
What's up?
How's work going?
What are you doing?
I'm working.
I know that. But on what?
An old project of mine...
Where are we?
At the police station?
Everyone comfortable?
Don't play the victim!
- What...?
- They know about the play.
You told them?
It's your play,
you should be able to talk about it.
It isn't a secret.
When did you plan to tell us?
I don't know,
when the time was right.
We've just got started.
You haven't,
she's already rehearsing.
That isn't important.
I'm still writing.
Who are you to say
what's important?
It's my work, so....
But it concerns us too.
It isn't just your work.
How dare you do a play
about my life!
And mine!
I take inspiration where I find it.
You could at least tell us
without being so condescending
and superior about it.
- I'm not...
- You are, too.
Just speak normally,
explain nicely and calmly
without acting superior.
You'll see.
- No, I won't.
- OK, you won't.
- Never mind.
- Please,
just stop this play.
All right?
No, I can't do that.
I'm not 15, Mom.
I can't.
I have a responsibility.
I bring to life what I have...
to do, to be in my life.
That's all.
I don't mean to upset yours,
but at the same time I can't...
go against my own.
It's her freedom.
It won't harm you.
I've read it...
The fact she didn't tell us
is hurtful to me.
Forget hurt, I don't like it.
It isn't a film,
it's only temporary.
We'll never fully agree,
so there's no...
Why make a fuss about nothing?
So I don't have a choice?
About what?
About the play.
It's a version of reality. But it's...
You're the inspiration for it.
There's no reason
to feel ashamed or...
I'm not ashamed.
I'm a victim of something
I don't particularly want to see
on stage, with actors,
with people laughing and applauding.
I don't want to experience that.
I think the distance
you needed to write the play,
I don't feel it like you,
and I don't want to see autofiction
about what destroyed me.
I'm going back to France, Mom.
They'll live here.
- Like Algerians.
- Inshallah.
And die here like Algerians.
You're in charge now.
You're in charge, Mom.
Don't you worry, son.
Daddy!
Stay with me!
Let go of me!
Daddy!
That'll do!
Don't leave me!
Let go of me!
I want to see my father.
Moving on to item two on the agenda...
the CCTV cameras in St Martin's.
It has the most cameras
in the city already.
It's our test area.
- The tests have been done!
- Let me finish.
Now is not the time
for a debate between us
about St Martin's!
Even within your team,
there's disagreement.
- Please, Mr. Dahmane.
- You clearly don't agree.
I give the floor to Fanny Bellefeuille,
who is going to present
Sport for Life's project proposal.
It's an organization
that helps the over 75s,
Muslim women,
who are overweight
and mostly suffer from diabetes.
They want to make
the pilgrimage to Mecca,
to walk around the Kaaba.
They go real fast.
They go around the Kaaba stone.
I imagine your mother's done it.
Excuse me,
what do you mean by that?
Oh, I thought you knew it.
Sorry, Mrs. Bellefeuille,
no better than you.
But let's move on.
Please, go on.
So the organization
is requesting 3,000 euros...
I'm appalled, Madam Mayor,
it will encourage radicalization.
Don't be ridiculous!
They're 75 and obese,
they're hardly jihadists!
OK, fine,
this year it's old ladies,
next year it'll be young girls!
We take everyone to Mecca
on taxpayer money, do we?
Is there a religious element?
Absolutely not.
It's sports oriented.
I don't believe this.
Madam Mayor,
why fund a project to Mecca?
It could just as well be Lourdes.
I don't see the problem.
The meeting is closed.
Hello, Mom?
It's totally gross.
Don't you start, too!
What have I done now?
You're an actress!
Just try this on for me.
- It's well shabby.
- You're in the Maquis!
It's hideous!
You can't be serious.
Look, try it.
Ah, it's filthy.
It reeks too. Yuck!
- Why are you so annoyed?
- I'm not annoyed!
I'd just like us to do things...
When you fight with your sisters,
you take it out on me.
What's wrong with you today?
What about you?
Look! You've lost your mind.
Stop making me wear crap.
No, I'm not.
And you stop talking crap!
Come back down to earth!
You act like you're Shakespeare,
like you created the story!
You didn't get the part
because I'm your mother...
You didn't write, I dunno, Othello!
Just stop, OK?
Stop what?
It's a true story.
You didn't invent anything!
And you're telling me
to come back down to earth!
- Just calm down.
- I am calm.
Mom, just look at it!
If you don't stop,
I swear I'll find someone else.
I don't give a shit.
Your play will suck!
It's seriously ugly.
What about my image?
The rehearsal's starting.
All right, Auntie?
- Yes, fine.
- Why are you here?
What's up?
Let me speak to your mother.
Battle stations!
Chill.
Have you thought
about the consequences?
Did you think of Mom first?
- I think of her all the time.
- I don't believe you.
If you had thought of her,
you wouldn't write a play
to stir up all this shit
and expose our family problems.
Stop using Mom as an excuse
to talk about yourself.
What are you trying to do?
Blow everything apart?
You want to destroy everything?
You're in politics,
I'm in the theater.
You think you're better than me?
Just because I'm a politician?
What is it with you?
You think it's more virtuous
to be indiscreet?
Talk about your problem,
how you feel about that country
and France,
but not about us!
You should stop being afraid.
Go see a fucking shrink
and talk about your problems
instead of serving us up!
Let's stop there.
All I'm hearing is fear, fear, fear,
keeping up appearances...
Appearances?
I'll show you.
Open your mouth.
Come on!
Drink!
Drink the wine...
Drink the French wine
and cry, "Long live France!"
Cry!
Long live France!
Stop, stop, that's enough!
That's enough.
What's going on?
What are you doing?
Leave her alone.
Just leave her alone!
- Are you mad?
- You're the mad one!
- It's just acting!
- You're a monster!
Calm down.
It's a play, not real life.
- It isn't serious.
- Get off her!
We're acting, Auntie.
We're working here!
- All right, honey?
- Yes.
She's fine!
- It's a role.
- And she wanted to play it.
She's so believable
that you get all hysterical
and fall headlong into a kind of trap!
Why put her in danger?
I auditioned for it.
I insisted, I promise you.
Putting us in danger
isn't enough for you, is it?
Look, Djamila, I understand...
Zorah, leave me alone.
That wasn't acting.
I'll tell you what it is:
nothing but bullshit!
Your mom doesn't care.
She's decided to hurt her sisters,
to hurt her own daughter
and her own mother.
You have no qualms at all.
I'd say there's a scene missing.
This one.
Perfect catharsis.
- Mom, don't.
- Your mother is insane.
Sorry, I have to go.
I'll leave you...
between sisters.
- Thanks.
- Goodbye.
We'll stop there for today.
BROTHERS
Why are you up?
Go back to bed.
- Do you feel sick?
- Of course not.
- Are you sure?
- Yes, don't worry.
- It's really late.
- I know.
Or very early.
- But you're not sick?
- No.
You haven't slept.
Lacking inspiration?
It'll come, but you need rest.
It isn't by...
staying up all night every night...
It's just tonight.
You shouldn't, Mom.
- But I have to finish the play.
- You will.
I'll make you a strong coffee.
Act 3: Nothing, Nothingness
You need to recharge your batteries.
- Want a yogurt?
- No.
You know my pal Nasser?
- The small one?
- Yeah. He's a designer now.
And, well...
he's offered to make
my costume for the play.
My resistance fighter's outfit.
I don't understand.
My freedom fighter's outfit.
What could he possibly contribute?
Well, a fresh idea.
You know, something...
with a modern touch.
Plus he's a feminist like you.
- We're all feminists now.
- Yeah, like you!
Why judge people
you don't even know?
Try focusing on what
you have to do in the play...
Mom, let's at least see what he's got.
I don't see what the problem is.
Whenever I suggest stuff...
You want your curlers in
when I'm busy with rehearsals!
We usually do it at night.
I don't get it.
Well, I do!
I wasn't feeling well.
I needed you, that's all.
Are they in properly?
Hey, I didn't hurt you,
I didn't prick you.
You need to get yourself a man.
You can't stay single.
Why are you talking about me
and not Djamila?
- Look, Djamila...
- She's been divorced 10 years.
Djamila's been divorced 10 years
but Djamila is capable,
she's like a man.
Then she doesn't need to find one!
She's got the town hall, the...
She's got so much on her shoulders.
Look...
Look, my girl, my life...
it's a failure.
But I want my daughters to live.
- We are, Mom.
- You need to live.
You do your theater
but you need to live too.
Don't worry about us.
Thank you.
Don't mention it, Mom.
All right, Mom?
It's super pretty!
- OK, Auntie Zorah?
- And you?
Yeah, really good.
How's your mom?
She refuses to go blonde.
It probably isn't a great idea.
She's put on weight
and I want her to be Mae West
in a project of mine,
she has to be blonde.
Listen...
Farah mentioned the costume
you're making for the play,
but all the costumes
have been greenlighted,
including for Farah's character.
He knows that.
You could at least try to be nice.
He's here to pitch his idea.
Auntie Zorah,
I did my research
on what the women fighters
wore in Algeria then.
She showed me her outfit.
No offence, but...
Can I call you ma'am?
It sounds more pro
and it helps me...
It does, I promise you.
What did the Maquis give them?
Pants.
It's like Marlene Dietrich.
If she hadn't worn slacks in WW2,
she wouldn't be an icon.
It wasn't The Blue Angel
and all her simpering.
Simpering, simpering,
I wouldn't put it like that but...
You haven't seen it?
- What?
- The Blue Angel.
Yes, I've seen it.
Can I show you then
what I've made her?
I'd rather you kept...
- Just look!
- It's better if I show you.
- Go on, then.
- Like Sternberg was for Marlene,
I can be her Sternberg
and transform her.
I reinterpreted Marlene's slacks.
You can't change
something so iconic.
They don't work on Farah,
with her long torso and short legs.
Mannish trousers
don't flatter long torsos.
So I decided to give the jacket
the women fighters wore
my own twist...
And here it is!
Isn't it great?
It's a really strong symbol.
Don't you think?
Everything's already organized.
Everything's made.
Farah, it's time for rehearsals.
Yes, but...
Creating is all about searching.
I could just rehearse in it.
It's kind of you, but...
Shall we try it out?
No!
We will not try it out.
Farah, I'm sorry.
I could always film the rehearsals.
Is there anything you can't do?
- You wouldn't refuse Gaultier.
- I'm multidisciplinary.
- I'm so open...
- Yes, a true artist.
Right, we really have to go.
Sorry, Nasser.
Give your mom a big kiss
from me.
Thanks, good luck.
Goodbye.
I could see she loved it.
She's just pissed off
it was my idea.
She's like an argumentative teen.
I said it was her loss,
but no one else wants it either.
Farah's ready.
What's that jacket?
You're women now.
Zorah's going to have a big party.
Zorah...
you'll do the family proud.
Did your mother tell you?
- What about?
- Didn't you tell her?
What party?
Your mother will explain.
Sit up straight.
- He wants to marry you off.
- What?
He meant your wedding.
Me, married?
She's too young.
What about school?
We're leaving.
I'm divorcing him.
I'll divorce him and we'll go.
- Where?
- We'll see.
- We're all leaving.
- Where will we go?
I don't know!
No one is getting married.
Out you go.
- Stop.
- Stop?
Ask for a divorce.
Go on, ask for a divorce.
Come see your mother.
She wants freedom.
Don't touch them!
Mommy wants to leave you.
Go to Mommy.
She's French now.
Over there!
Move it!
Go on!
Look at your mother.
Your mother wants to kill Daddy.
Look at her!
- She wants to kill Daddy!
- Run!
Come here, you!
You're staying with me.
I'll take Redah.
You two go home.
As the father had
the family record book,
he could prove
he was the children's father.
Sadly, their removal is not wrongful.
He is legally entitled
to move the children to Algeria.
The French state has no jurisdiction
to order their return.
France cannot do anything for you.
- You're late! Mom can't be alone.
- It isn't my fault!
Oh, yeah?
I've got school.
Go on, get home now!
- Stop doing that to me!
- Move it!
Quick, do the hopscotch!
Mom?
Mom!
Mom?
All right, Mom?
Where's Norah?
I had a call from Algiers.
Your father's had a stroke.
A stroke?
A stroke. ST-RO-KE!
I can't believe it!
He can't have.
That play of yours
has stirred things up.
Everything.
He who scrapes
the bottom of the pot
brings scum to the surface!
- This is your doing.
- Who called you?
A relative.
Now listen to me.
He's at Algiers Hospital.
You'll go with your sisters
to visit your father in hospital.
He will see Norah.
It's been 29 years since he saw her.
When he sees Norah,
he'll say where Redah is,
where he abandoned him.
No, but...
I can't do it,
I can't relive that.
I can't make Norah relive that.
You're the eldest,
you have to tell them.
And take them there!
It's an opportunity.
He's weak, he'll talk.
He'll say where he hid my son!
He took my son from me.
He stole my son!
Fucking hell!
Shouting won't help!
Be careful!
Take him!
She's hurt her foot.
Careful.
Come back!
You'll pay for this.
Get in! I have to go now.
I swear, you'll never see him again!
Go back home!
You've betrayed us all.
I've just had news of my father.
He's had a stroke.
- A big one?
- Yes.
He's fighting for his life.
So I have to go to Algiers.
- Right away?
- Yes.
With my sisters.
I have to talk to him.
As you know,
we're rehearsing with the girls...
Yeah.
Do you see which scene?
Yeah.
So I'm going to ask you
to replace me.
Could you?
Can I count on you?
Sure you can.
But do it without anyone realizing.
- You know...
- It's between us.
I don't want anyone to know I've gone.
What I'd like us to do today
is a few warm-up exercises.
Where's Zorah?
Just imagine she's here.
I'm going to film us.
We're not used to working with you.
Yeah, well, now's the time to.
OK, let's start.
- Line up.
- In costume?
- No, not in costume.
- Without?
That's right.
No, but to be in the actor's shoes.
Let's just try to warm up
and have fun out of costume.
I don't need my wig then?
You can take it off.
I'll be more relaxed.
Shall we get started?
- All together!
- I don't want to.
It's boring.
- What?
- I don't like it.
You don't like what?
We're not comfortable.
We were not used
to doing things this way.
Which scene are we doing?
After school,
you're walking along
and you run into the father...
That's what I meant!
- You're the father.
- That's right.
You won't be the director
but the character!
The dad.
You're the dad in the scene.
It's logical!
Help me here.
Without you on stage with us,
we're kind of lost.
- We need Zorah.
- Right!
Look, Zorah isn't in my pocket,
she isn't here...
Where is she?
How about we have a drink
and talk about Zorah?
- OK, then.
- Right, let's go. Thanks.
And be nice.
Then get on stage with us.
- Do it without me.
- No.
- OK!
- We can't do it without you.
Let's do it.
The dad's here. Go on!
And he's going to show you...
Come on!
Forget the director!
I'm the father now,
so watch out!
- Fine!
- Go on!
Hey, what are you doing?
Well?
What are you playing at?
Come here!
What are you doing?
- Look at the stage!
- I forgot.
Look at the stage!
We play to an audience.
Well?
Don't stray from the stage.
Stay here and look that way.
Let me give you a hug.
Let's have a group hug.
I'm really sorry.
It's hard for me, too.
Come on, don't be scared.
Fuck... I'm sorry!
Who's going to speak to her?
Not me.
You have to.
Quiet, please!
We're under Tarzan's tree, OK?
The film was made here,
the one and only Tarzan,
in 1934,
with a very famous actor
called Johnny Weissmuller.
The next one who speaks
will swing from that creeper!
You'll be Tarzan for real.
Now listen!
I was supposed
to have a Chinese group.
No one warned me.
I'm not used to children.
Did you know Cheetah was Algerian?
Yes!
When she left Algeria,
she was supposed to come home
but she was so sad to have left
that she died of sorrow.
She was very sad.
She wanted to stay here!
She wanted to stay in Algeria.
She was unhappy to leave.
Did you actually
take in anything I said?
Or nothing at all?
They didn't understand.
- Really?
- They couldn't hear.
Soumaya's lucky to work here.
- Are you Djamila?
- No, I'm Djamila.
You OK?
Hey, you're all gorgeous!
You OK? How are you, Djamila?
How's that for kismet?
A sad reason for a reunion.
- Did you find it easily?
- Yes.
It's so incredible, I'm shaking.
I'm vibrating like a cell phone!
I'm that moved.
- Are you married?
- No way!
Welcome home, girls!
It's a shame
about the circumstances.
That's kismet for you.
I'll drop you at the hospital.
It won't be easy.
Be strong.
That's better.
It had to come out.
Take a deep breath.
Where's room 4, please?
- Third floor.
- On the left.
I can't do this!
- What are you doing?
- I don't want to go.
- Don't do that!
- I can't go.
What do you mean?
We're here now.
You two go. I can't do it.
Norah, we're here. OK?
Please. I can't do it.
It's too late.
I'm not stopping you,
but I'm not going.
Norah, the three of us have to go.
It's important.
- No, go without me.
- What do you mean?
We came all this way for nothing?
Don't be such a Parisian bobo!
- Stop it, you two.
- Don't you start.
- Don't you start!
- Start what?
We're here,
and you're coming!
Don't go there!
I'm 40 and I'll do what I like, OK?
Yes, OK!
I'll do what I want!
- Stop, you two!
- Get out of my face!
Don't do that!
- Don't make that gesture!
- What's that?
I'm not your kid!
Say something, you!
Don't you see
how's she talking to me?
How I'm talking to you?
Stop giving me orders!
I'm your big sister.
Show some respect!
I don't give a shit.
Go fuck your fa....!
What? Say that again!
Don't get into such a state.
- Don't make me get nasty!
- Just calm down.
- You shoved me?
- Calm down!
Don't shove me!
With that fucking hairdo...
you think I don't see
what you look like?
- A Frenchwoman!
- Fucking bobo!
Yeah, right!
You fucking bitch!
- What?
- That's right!
- Look at your fucking self!
- Yeah! Fuck you, bitch!
That's enough, you two!
Just stop this!
The pair of you are insane!
Get off her!
Look, look!
Why are you doing that?
It's shameful. Shame on you!
Where's the other gentleman?
When?
When he left,
did he say anything?
Not to me.
He didn't say anything.
Is he dead?
No, he isn't dead.
He walked out of here.
He left yesterday.
- He's dead.
- He isn't dead!
Don't be stupid.
He isn't dead!
Norah, wait!
I don't believe this.
Hello?
Hello? Yes, Soumaya.
Listen... we went to the hospital
and he wasn't there.
He's gone.
I'm really worried about Norah.
Can you pick us up?
We're at Audin Square.
Stay there.
Zorah, I'm coming with you.
No. I'll go on my own.
I was 18 when I last saw him...
The ruling.
My dad abducted...
Dad kidnapped Norah and Redah,
my little brother and sister.
My little brother is two.
He shouldn't be taken away.
He needs his mommy.
Madam, this ruling is French.
We're in Algeria here.
Pursuant to Article 87,
paragraph 3, of the Family Code
the law only recognizes
the authority of the father.
The children will remain in Algeria,
in accordance with the father's wishes.
Sir, it's an abduction.
He abducted them!
Next, please!
Mrs. Benamar!
Next, please!
Sir! Please!
Mrs. Benamar, please!
Please, sir!
Madam, that's enough!
Don't touch me!
Stop!
Allow me to explain.
Algerian law
is Algerian law!
The children will remain here...
It's an abduction.
It's totally different.
That's enough!
Mrs. Benamar, please!
Tyrant!
She ought to be ashamed!
In this sort of investigation,
we don't know
the face we're looking for.
It's a man
we're looking for now.
The child you're looking for is dead.
It's my failure, alone.
No, it isn't.
I'm the one who failed.
We're in Algiers now,
my sisters and I,
because we're looking
for our father.
He was...
at Algiers Hospital but he's vanished.
So we have to find him.
Only he knows where Redah is.
Only he can tell us where Redah is.
So I'd just like to know if you've had
any information about him.
He's either gone back to France
or he's at his home in Tizi Ouzou.
If he's still alive.
What did they tell you at the hospital?
The same thing as you.
Will we see your mom?
She's dead.
May she rest in peace.
Sorry, I didn't know.
It's all right.
You couldn't have known.
We hadn't spoken in ages.
I wasn't going
to call you and say,
"Hi, Mom's dead"
when we had no ties.
I called about your father.
You know what I think?
You're jerking us around.
How?
Because you see us as foreigners.
What?
- Let me speak!
- Don't go there.
Don't you start!
I'll say what I like.
I let you speak,
so let me speak.
Let her speak.
Go on!
- You see us as foreigners.
- Foreigners?
For you, this isn't our home.
- I don't understand.
- You do, too!
- Why'd you cut ties with us?
- I didn't!
Because we were there?
You grow up in France,
you live in France,
you want to be French,
then you come here and preach.
There are no Algerians in France?
That's rich!
You're Algerian now?
Our generation...
We don't understand you.
It's like you beg
to be loved over there
and over here, too.
We don't know where you're heading.
You need our acceptance
because they reject you.
That's why you say,
"Actually, we're Algerian.
- "We failed there."
- We fought so hard
to put down roots,
for our integration in France,
it's not surprising
she finds it strange
or absurd that we try...
to claim to be Algerian!
That's why I wrote the play.
For that.
In order to challenge
everything in the history books
that in no way corresponds
to the flesh of reality.
Can you stop making
everything about your play?
We're talking about abduction.
She pisses me off!
You came looking for a truth
you don't want to hear.
We came for our brother.
We're trying to forget
about ten years of terrorism,
hundreds of thousands of victims.
- Where were you then?
- We did what we could.
But I don't know if we were heard.
You should learn to forget.
We learned to forget
on our own.
You're telling us
to forget about someone
who may or may not be alive?
I didn't say to stop looking.
Can you see the three of us
saying to our mother,
"Forget about your son"?
So can you help us?
Will you help us?
I've had no news yet.
May I have this dance?
I share the place with Zouina,
who's a cousin.
Not on your side but mine.
Auntie's place is more like
an old folks' home!
Is Tizi Ouzou far?
How many hours' drive?
Tizi Ouzou is...
It depends on your luck.
Between one and two hours,
depending on the traffic.
This is it.
It's an Algerian door!
Come in.
How are you?
Come on, girls.
My cousins from France.
A big hand
for the cousins from France!
Make yourselves at home.
Norah!
Come on.
We'll just drop our things.
- Carry on.
- I've got one!
"They can get lost!"
That isn't the question.
We must stay united.
It's never been the question!
What is it, then?
The place of Algerian women!
We've always stood up
to defend the people.
You use us and he says,
"We're talking about you."
Now! Now!
Now that's a slogan!
What's going on next door?
The people you saw in there
are people that I've brought together
for the march for freedom
against the fifth term.
And tomorrow, at long last,
it's the protest march.
There's a protest tomorrow?
It's the first big one.
And I think...
Do you have permission?
We don't, Djamila.
Those people you saw
spent the night here.
Inventing slogans, getting organized...
Some are mothers.
We're all here together
and we're full of hope.
Only you can help us tomorrow.
What do we do now?
It's complicated.
People are counting on me.
I can't go with you tomorrow.
Let's split.
We stay put.
Give me her bag.
- We're leaving.
- To go where?
Have you had your pill?
- It's the middle of the night!
- We stay put.
She's all we have.
We're in the shit.
How will we manage without her?
Lie down and take those boots off.
They irritate me!
You should drop a pill.
Can you help me?
Can you do it?
See you later.
I'm so sorry.
Soumaya told us
about your tragedy.
Thanks for having us.
It's been madness here lately.
How do you get organized?
It's self-organization.
Social media, Facebook.
We each contact our friends
and arrange to meet.
Which political party is it?
There isn't one.
There is no party.
Revolutions start with the people
before being led by one or two people.
Ours will be, too.
And then, inshallah,
figures will emerge to lead it.
But step by step.
Three generations
will be on the streets.
We have 60 million followers.
Hey, we're 42 million.
60 million!
Hey, you killjoys!
We're lots anyway.
To think in my municipality,
I barely get a thousand at a meeting!
Stop comparing, Djamila.
We doctors held protests
a few months ago.
It ended badly.
We got massacred.
That's why it mustn't be
doctors, lawyers...
This time it's the people.
Are any of you familiar
with Article 87?
Which allows men
to steal children.
In the Family Code?
Yes.
It isn't a priority.
It never is.
We need to set up
real institutions first.
Everything comes in its own time.
Things will change now.
Tomorrow is the big day.
We just have to start.
And it's tomorrow.
Tomorrow...
And could things degenerate?
We don't know.
We've no idea what tomorrow holds.
The thing is,
we have to go to Tizi Ouzou.
Sorry to talk about us.
It's your father...
Your father has just died.
He'll be buried first thing tomorrow
in Tizi Ouzou.
We belong to God
and to God we return.
I'm sorry.
Wake your sisters and tell them.
No, I won't wake them.
We'll let them sleep.
There'll be family at the funeral.
They can tell you about Redah.
My condolences.
Right, two things, everyone.
We never know.
No, I'll stay put.
I'll deal with any casualties.
We'll be thinking of you!
Let's go!
Stay together and be careful.
Please leave. Quickly.
Well?
She's sleeping.
How is she?
She's having a schizophrenic episode.
She didn't recognize me.
Weren't you aware of her condition?
See you.
For 20 years,
I've been writing a letter.
Writing a letter to you.
For 20 years,
I've repeated sentences,
questions,
imagined your answers...
And this letter shields my life.
This letter...
It prevents me from living
the life I deserve.
I cannot fall in love,
I cannot build.
I cannot find peace.
And at my age I should be at peace.
I'm too old to be tormented, Dad.
I always thought,
"He'll give me his answers,
he'll explain.
"He'll explain about the abduction.
"He'll explain..."
And now...
you've taken your reasons with you.
I can't help thinking
you did it deliberately.
You did it deliberately
to prevent us from growing up.
You don't want me to grow up, in fact.
And I just want to see my brother.
Just find my little brother.
You better help us find him,
or else I'll never forgive you.
I'll never forgive you.
Stop the legal kidnapping of children
Algeria, do not forget them
People of Algeria, do not forget us!
Subtitles by Susannah Rooke
Subtitling TITRAFILM