All language subtitles for I.am.Going.Home.2001.DVDrip

I'M GOING HOME

I won't have it!

Sit down, quick sit down.

I refuse.

I can't help but fall.

Take his sceptre, it's too heavy.

Not that bonnet.

It's like a crown, but lighter.

Leave me my sceptre!

You're too weak to hold it.

No good trying to lean on it,
we'll carry you, wheel you.

I want to keep it.

Then leave him his sceptre.

Afterall, Idon't seewhynot.

Tell me it's not true, a nightmare.

There's a chance in ten,
a chance in a thousand.

I often used to win the lottery.

Your Majesty!

I can no longer hear you,
I'm too scared.

You must listen, Sire.

I won't hear you,
your words frighten me.

I won't hear any more talk.

Don't come any nearer!
You scare me with your pity.

He's like a small child.
A little boy once more.

An ugly, bearded,
wrinkled little boy!

You're too lenient.

And if you were he?

- I... I want to flee.
- He can barely stand.

It hurts to move my arms.

That means it's starting.

No.

Why was I born if not forever?

Damn my parents!

What a farce! I came into the world
five minutes ago.

I got married three minutes ago.

283yearsago.

I mounted the throne
two and a half minutes ago.

277 years and three months ago.

Life passed me by so quickly.
I had no time to experience it.

He never even tried.

I never had the time!

Yet he had every expert
to tell him about it.

Theologians, wise men,
and books he never read.

I never had the time.

You used to say you'd endless time.

I never had the time!
I never had the time!

He's repeating himself.

Always the same old story.

Seems better. Despite his moans
and groans, he's begun to reason.

He's complaining, protesting,
so he's begun to resign himself.

I'll never resign myself!

His saying he won't,
is the very sign that he will.

He's posing the problem,
raising the question.

Your Majesty,

you've made war over 280 times.

You have led your armies
into 2000 battles.

First, on a white horse

with a very conspicuous
red-and-white plume.

- You never knew fear.
- No.

When you modernised your army,
you would stand upon a tank

or on the wing
of the lead fighter plane.

He was a hero.

You diced with death
a thousand times.

Only diced with it,
I knew it wasn't for me.

You were a hero, do you hear?
Remember that.

Via this doctor and executioner,
you assassinated...

Executed, not assassinated!

Execution, Majesty, not assassination

I was only obeying orders,
a mere instrument,

an executor, not an executioner.

It was all euthanasia to me.
I'm sorry, forgive me.

You had my parents butchered,
your own brothers,

our cousins and second cousins,

their families, friends, livestock.
You scorched their lands!

Majesty said they'd all die one day.

It was for reasons of state!

As is your dying.

But I am the state!

What a state he's in, poor man!

He was the law, above the law.

I am the law no more.

He admits it, he's doing well.

Makes life easier.

I'm not above the law anymore,
not above the law.

The King is no longer above the law.

Poor old man,
no longer above the law.

He's just like us. Like my own
granddad!

Poor little chap, my poor child.

Child!

A child?

Man, a child!

I want to be a baby.

You can be my mother,
then they'll not come for me.

I still don't know reading, writing,
or arithmetic.

So I should be sent off to school
with my pals.

What's two plus two?

- Two and two make four.
- You know that.

She answered for me.

Alas, one cannot cheat.

Alas, alas!

So many are being born
right this minute.

Countless births

all over the world.

Not in this country.

The birth rate's down to zero.

Not a lettuce,
nor even any grass grows.

Utter sterility, because of you.

Don't be so hard on him.

Perhaps all will grow back.

When he has accepted,
when he's gone.

When I've gone.

They'll laugh themselves silly,

they'll stuff themselves,
they'll dance on my grave!

As ifI'd neverbeen

Oh, may they remember me!

May they weep and despair!

May my memory be perpetuated
in all their history books.

May all know my life by heart.

May they all relive it.

Let schoolchildren and scholars

study nothing but me,

my kingdom, my exploits!

May all other books be burned...

and every statue be destroyed

that mine be set up
in all the public squares.

My picture in every Ministry,
in every office of every town hall,

in tax offices and hospitals.

That my name be given to planes,

to steamships,

to every car and pushcart!

May the memory of all other kings,

warriors, poets,
tenors and philosophers

be replaced
with the all-pervading image of me.

A single Christian name,

a single surname for all!

Let them learn to read
by spelling out my name:

B,E, BE

Berenger!

May I appear on all the icons.

Let me be upon every statue,
in every church.

Let them say masses for me,

and may I be the Host.

Let all windows that are lit...

be the colour
and likeness of my eyes.

Let all rivers upon the plains...

trace the profile of my face.

May they call my name

throughout eternity!

May they beg...

and implore me!

Perhaps you will return?

Perhaps I will return.

Let them preserve my body
in some palace

on a throne.

May they bring me food,
may musicians play for me,

may virgins grovel
at my ice-cold feet.

He's raving, Madam.

His Majesty the King is raving.

Not yet, he's making too much sense.

Too much and not enough.

If such be your will, we will embalm
your body, preserve it.

As best we can.

Horror! I'll not be embalmed.
A corpse is not for me.

I don't want to be burned,
or buried,

nor thrown to vultures
or wild beasts.

I want...

to be held in a warm embrace,
in cool, tender arms,

in a firm embrace...

Stand up straight!

You don't need your stick,
you don't have one.

Don't bend over,
and whatever you do, don't fall!

Up, up you go!

Turn towards me. Look at me.

Look right through me.

Gaze into my unreflecting mirror,
stand straight!

Give me your legs. The right.

The left.

Give me a finger.

Give me two fingers.

Three, four, five... all ten fingers.

Give me your arms. Your right arm.

Your left arm.

Your chest,

your two shoulders
and your stomach.

You've lost the power of speech.

Your heart need not beat,
no need to breathe.

Much ado about nothing, wasn't it?

You may take your place.

What's the matter?

- What is it?
- Sad news.

Come on, out with it!

Come, I' ll tell you
while you' re changing.

So, tell us!

- An accident.
- Is it serious?

Yes, very.

Who was involved?

Gilbert's wife, daughter
and son-in-law.

- All three?
- A car accident.

And?

All we can do is wait.

Wait and see.

My God! How awful...

I think all three
were already dead upon arrival.

He said all three were killed.

And his grandson, Serge?
He'll be all alone!

No, he has his grandparents,
and Guilhermine, she adores him.

But he's only a child,
and motherless...

Some time later...

This is a most majestic vision,
and harmonious charmingly:

May I be bold to think these spirits?

Spirits, which by mine art
I have from their confines call'd

to enact my present fancies.

Let me live here ever:

So rare a wonder' d father
and a wife,

makes this place Paradise.

Sweet, now, silence!

Juno and Ceres whisper seriously,
there's something else to do:

Hush...

and be mute,
or else our spell is marr'd.

Juno does command.

Come, temperate nymphs, and help
to celebrate a contract of true love:

Be not too late.

I had forgot that foul conspiracy
of the beast Caliban,

and his confederates

against my life:

The minute of their plot
is almost come...

Well done!

Avoid.

No more!

Strange: your father's in some
passion that works him strongly.

Never till this day saw I him
touched with anger so distemper'd.

You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort,

as if you were dismay'd:
be cheerful, sir:

Our revels are now ended.

These our actors,
as I foretold you, were all spirits

and are melted into air,
into thin air.

And, like the baseless fabric
of this vision,

the cloud-capp'd towers,
the gorgeous palaces,

the solemn temples,

the great globe itself,
yea, all which it inherit,

shall dissolve and, like this
insubstantial pageant faded,

Ieave not a rack behind.

We are such stuff
as dreams are made on,

and our little life is rounded...

with a sleep.

Sir, I am vex'd...

Bear with my weakness;
my old brain is troubled.

Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.

If you be pleas'd, retire
into my cell and there repose:

A turn or two I'll walk, to still...

my beating mind.

We wish your peace.

Come...

Come with a thought!

I thank thee: Ariel, come!

Thy thoughts I cleave to.
What's thy pleasure?

Spirit, we must prepare
to meet with Caliban.

Ay, my commander,
when I presented Ceres,

I thought to have told thee of it;
but I fear'd lest I might anger thee.

Say again,

where didst thou leave these varlets?

I told you, sir,

they were red-hot with drinking,

so full of valour

that they smote the air
for breathing in their faces;

beat the ground
for kissing of their feet;

yet always bending
towards their project.

Then I beat my tabor, at which,

Iike unback'd colts, they prick'd
their ears, advanc'd their eyelids,

Iifted up their noses
as they smelt music:

So I charm'd their ears

that, calf-like, they my lowing
follow'd through tooth'd briers,

sharp furzes, pricking goss and
thorns, which enter'd their shins:

At last I left them i' the filthy-
mantled pool beyond your cell,

there dancing up to the chins,

that the foul lake
o'erstunk their feet.

This was well done, my bird.

Thy shape invisible
retain thou still:

The trumpery in my house,
go bring it hither,

for stale to catch these thieves.

- How do you feel?
- Fine!

They're very comfortable.

- So you love your new shoes.
- Yes.

Only I was asking

Ihow you're coping with your wife
and daughter's deaths.

Well... I live...

I live with my...

solitudine.

Your what?

My solitude.

And you've never thought
of easing your solitude?

Of someone to help you ease it?

Ease it? How?

In pleasant company.
A pretty young actress, perhaps.

That's a roguish suggestion,
and you know it.

You also know I like
to preserve my solitudine.

My grandson and I...

are just fine as we are.

You're protecting yourself?

Take it that way if you will.

I'm protecting myself...

from illusions proper
to people of my age.

- Proper?
- Proper or improper,

as you like.

You're still in your prime.

Sure, but I'm not
getting any younger.

You live like a hermit.

No, I don't...

I have my grandson.

I have a past
which enables me to live...

to fill the void of the present.
I have friends, like you.

And I have the theatre.

You know theatre and cinema
have been my life's passion.

Put all that together
and you'll see, I'm no hermit!

Don't forget, I act.

I'm constantly
in someone else's shoes.

I've played them, one after
the other, in common happiness...

and boundless joy...

in the pain...

of their utmost tragedy,
their intense and bitter dramas.

The great actor has spoken!

I'm not acting, I'm living.

You mean, pretending to live out
your "solitudine"!

Don't make fun.

I live as best I can.

Sorry, it just slipped out.

But you thought it.

Yes, I did.

But I did say sorry.

- How're things at home?
- Oh, fine.

My grandson and I
keep different hours.

Luckily, I've good old Guilhermine
to help out.

- She keeps things balanced.
- The cleaning lady?

No, she's more like a nanny.

As she already was...

in happier times.

She looks after the house,

prepares Serge's breakfast
before he leaves for school,

and leaves his dinner in the oven
for the evening.

As she can't stay all day,
she leaves mid-afternoon.

You've no one else to help out?

No...

I don't need anyone.

Serge has his other grandparents.

He holidays with them
and they come whenever they can.

So, you hardly see him.

When he leaves for school,
he comes up,

and if I'm awake, we chat a while.

If not, he sees me, that's all.

And yet, he's very fond of you.

Yes, very.

Since the loss of...

Ihis parents and granny,
all his affection is for me.

- And that keeps you going.
- Right.

Good.

Listen, I wanted to talk to you
about a TV thing.

What is it?

It isn't quite firmed up.

I'll tell you some other time.

OK, but you know I never find
TV offers very appealing.

Well, we'll see.

We'll see.

I heard that young actress
has a soft spot for you.

Who?

The youngest one, Sylvia.

Could be my daughter.

Yes, almost the same age,
but she's not.

You devil!

I told you I was fine
with my solitudine...

Who do you take me for?

For a great actor,
a real turn on for a young girl.

You think I'm depraved?

Why depraved? There have been cases
most worthy of respect, like Casals.

Casals?

Yes, Casals, the cellist,
married one of his young students.

She was still a teenager
and he was over 80.

Well, I'm far from 80,
nor am I Casals, understand?

I thought you knew me.
Are you trying to be funny, or what?

I'll not play the sad part of all
these old duffers I see around.

No, of course not,
you're in fine form.

Thanks, now can we stop
this tiresome conversation.

I want to go home, it's late.

I was out of line, I'm sorry.

I'm driving, can I drop you off?

No, thanks.
I like to walk before turning in.

I'll walk to the rank,
my taxi-man will be waiting.

- As you like. Good night, then.
- Good night.

What's all this?

Your wallet!

Sorry, but I don't have one.

No funny stuff, or I'll stick you!

Gimme your jacket!

Lay it down and turn around.

Turn this way.

Your watch.

The brogues.

Your shoes, Sir!

Put them down and go.

In my stocking feet?

Put them down and go!

Beat it!

Beat it, wanker!

Come in!

What a surprise!
No, just kidding.

Remember that TV thing
I was telling you about?

We were just discussing it.
Come on in!

Hello.

Have a seat.

Not wearing your shoes?

They're pinching?

My lovely tan shoes...

have disappeared.

Disappeared?

Stolen last night after I left you.

Never!

I was mugged by a junkie
with a contaminated syringe.

Really? Some kid?

No, a nasty piece of work,
tall, skinny.

Took my jacket with my money,
my watch...

and the new shoes I'd just bought.

I had to go barefoot to the taxi.

Paris isn't safe at night any more.

Paris, London, Madrid, it's the same

in all the big "civilised" cities.

Anyway, I didn't come here
to make you laugh.

Sorry, but it's almost comic.

Well, let's drop the subject.

I came about...

that TV contract...

you'd mentioned,
to know a little more.

Right, so they want
to make a TV film,

an action series...
And I felt it was interesting.

They want a big-name actor.
Naturally, you came to mind.

No second thoughts,
they really want you,

and are ready to pay top dollar.

So what's the storyline?

It's a modern tale,
with lots of action.

I'm glad you came,
I was dying to tell you the plot.

So what's my character like?

He's an oldish guy, fairly wealthy.

And a gang of kids decide
to rip him off, using this girl.

- Sylvia?
- Right!

Sylvia's in it too?

Yes, they'd thought of her
for the role of the young girl.

And so?

So, she chats him up,

the old guy falls for it
and they have an affair.

But one day, she steals
his credit card and code

and gives them to her mates,
who head off to get the cash.

When the old guy finds out...

So, he's an old duffer.

A nice old guy!
The girl takes a shine to him.

She chats him up...

And the old guy falls for it.

Of course! Given his age...

We'd have to make you up
to look really old!

Of course...

And then?

When he realises what's going on

Ihe decides to go after the gang,
he's no victim.

He finds them in an alleyway
and there's this violent scene.

Have there been scenes in bed
with the girl?

Sure, really classy scenes.

But in the fight scene
he gets messed up pretty bad.

Anyway, he's taken to hospital,
and his son comes to visit.

A young guy, same age as the gang.

When he finds out,
he swears to avenge his dad.

- That's episode one.
- I see, and then?

Then, it gets a bit tricky.
The son is on to the four guys.

Not to give the game away,
he flirts with the girl.

She's really into him,

and he leads her on
right till the very end.

There's lots of twists and turns.

Violence, scenes in bed, the usual!

- It's what audiences like.
- Seems interesting.

And it's very well paid.

But you know perfectly well
I've no time for such stories.

I've never done that stuff
and I'll not start now.

I have a career...

a certain ideal
or standard in my profession.

Afterso manyyears...

of genuine work, I'll not now...

accept things I don't like,
just because they're well paid.

We've clashed before on this.

As my friend, you know that.
So why still insist?

With you,
it's always the same story.

Why not? It's a money-spinner.
The key to wider renown.

It'll open new doors for us,

which will never happen
if you blinker yourself.

Always the same old song.

- You're acting like a fool.
- I act like who I am.

- Wait, let's talk...
- No, I'm going.

Call me
when you've something I'll like.

He'll never learn.

Taxi!

Serge!

Granddad!

Stop that, Serge...

Stop it!

I'm gonna hit you... Yes!

Lucky they've bumpers, eh?

I'm gonna ram my granddad!

Mine's a bit sluggish.

It'll pick up speed.

Want I give you a push?

Wait, hold it...

I'm gonna get you!

Ready for a direct hit...

Back, back, gonna get him... Yes!

Granddad!

I had you fooled!

It's late, now run along to school.

What is it?

It's Guilhermine, Sir.
Your agent's on the phone.

Tell him to call later, I'm resting.

He says it's urgent, Sir,
very urgent.

I'm coming... Be right there!

Why are you calling so early?

What's all that urgent?

OK, no need to get mad.

OK, all right.

I just need to dress
and jump in a cab.

Calling at this hour,
always something...

It'd drive you mad!

That'll be him. Come in!

It's perfect...
You can't knock this one.

No, I like the role...

but I've not much time,
given it's in English.

Just study a bit and you'll be fine.

There, is that all right?

Buck Mulligan.

Granddad!

What's the matter?

I dozed off, Serge.

I wanted to work on my text
for today,

I didn't notice the time,
and I fell asleep.

Don't worry, nothing the matter,
I feel fine.

Serge, it's time for school.

Give me a kiss.

Off you go.

Serge!

You always forget your snack.

I'm going home...

I'm going to rest.

Sir?

Wine?

Red or white?

A beer, please.