All language subtitles for Poison_Lot Vekemans-Désirée Nosbusch 2024

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Come here, Luke.

Hi, this is Edith. I won't be in today.
I'm not very well.

I'm sorry.

It's nothing serious, just a bit of a
cold.

I'll be back on Monday.

Edie? Oh, you're already here.

You're leaving?

No.

I mean, I just arrived.

Right.

Yeah, I...

Still

on your bike, then?

Yeah.

And you?

No.

Not on my bike, no.

Of course not.

It's flowers.

Flowers.

Oh, yeah.

I didn't know if you'd come or not.

Well, I was going to call you.

They tell you I was coming, but, yeah,
not much of a caller.

I know.

So have you already been to the grave?

Yeah.

Looks lovely.

I do my best.

I was worried it was going to look like
a building site.

No.

No, unfortunately not.

So we just have to wait here then?

Yeah, I think so, yeah.

You haven't changed a bit?

Don't look too closely then.

It's just the same as it did 10 years
ago.

The tree's gone.

Fire's great. It had some disease or
something.

I thought it might have been a toxin.

No, it has nothing to do with that.

How many graves are you going to have to
move in?

Don't know, really.

I suspect we'll find out soon enough.

Do you want something?

What?

A coffee?

Tea?

Water? Oh, no, no, no. No, thanks.

I'm finding this quite hard.

Well, let's hear what they have to say,
then. No, I... No. I mean, being here,

waiting together like this.

And that I haven't seen you for years. I
don't know how you are.

You haven't seen me for years. You don't
know how I am. And that I don't know

what to say.

And that I'm bursting for a pee.

Well, you should probably go, then.

To pee, I mean.

Thank you.

It's not bad, actually.

Do you know what I think is strange?

That things only happen when it doesn't
matter to you anymore.

When you don't really need it anymore.

You're talking about me?

So, does it matter to you whether I'm
here or not?

I'm not saying that.

It sounds like you're saying that.

But that's not what I mean. I mean it in
a positive way.

That you find out you can do without
something, that you're not dependent

anymore. That's something positive,
isn't it?

Yeah, but are you happy that I'm here or
not?

Yeah, I'm very happy that you're here.

Okay. That we're here together,
stranded, in a manner of speaking.

Do you feel stranded?

Yeah.

Oh, my God.

What happened?

Are you okay?

Oh.

Come here.

You all right?

I don't know.

31st of December 2012.

That's a long time ago, isn't it?

31st of December 2012.

At ten past seven.

Ten past seven.

It all closed.

I looked at the clock.

Ten past seven.

I've never forgotten it.

So what did you actually do that
evening?

Oh, can't you remember?

Yeah.

Of course I can.

I drove to Mum's beach house

before midnight, and I stopped at a
petrol station, and I was going to call

but then I thought, you fucking idiot. I
mean, who...

leaves on a day like that and then calls
at midnight, so I didn't

call.

You know, I've noticed how often you do
things you don't actually want to do.

Are you talking about that evening?

No, no, I mean...

Yes, probably.

You don't have topology. I'm not. It's
more of an insight long after the event.

I mean, we all end up in the same place
in the end.

I mean, we do things that we'd rather
not do or don't do things that we'd

do.

Funny, right?

Yeah. It makes you laugh. I mean,
hearing that from you, I think that's

It makes you laugh.

Yeah, it's hysterical.

It is funny, isn't it?

Are you all touchy now?

No. You're not going to get all touchy,
are you?

What are you doing?

Need a breather.

But they could come any moment.

You want to get that?

No.

Not important?

Don't you think it's bizarre?

After all these years, seeing each other
here again?

I do. I think it's bizarre.

It's all a twist of fate, don't you?

I haven't really thought about it.

You've seen me for the first time in ten
years.

Here, in this place.

And you haven't really thought about it.

Is there anything you have thought
about?

What do you mean?

About the stuff in that letter, for
instance. Let's just see what they have

say. You know, what the options are, the
cost.

The cost, you mean?

Yeah, the cost.

We're talking about Jacob and you're
talking about money? I'm sorry, I didn't

mean it that way.

You know I didn't mean it that way, come
on. You know, that's ridiculous to

think I meant it that way.

Ready? Ready?

He's addicted to that stuff.

I'll try and cut down.

Did you know I got addicted to sleeping
pills?

My doctor said they wouldn't do any
harm.

That it was a normal for a woman in my
circumstances.

After all, I'd been through very normal.

That's reassuring, isn't it?

I mean that it won't get out of hand,
the addiction.

No such luck.

Do you know the worst thing about
addictions?

That they're hard to break, I would
imagine.

That they're so easy to develop.

It happens before you know it.

You start off with a half and then
another one, and then a whole one.

But not every night.

Only if it's really necessary, of
course.

And it is really necessary.

So many things are increasingly really
necessary.

Things that come in small bottles.

Or in handy blister strips.

And before you know it, you're taking
one every night.

For a long time, I hoped that I could
put things behind me.

To start again.

I'd rather, of course.

It's never the same again. Whatever you
try, you house, you friends, you job.

Is that what you want?

I want you.

Erase it all and start again.

Yeah, but I mean, where would you start?

Where?

I mean, at what point would you start,
you know, choose to erase and then how

would you know what comes after would be
any better?

That's an idiotic question.

I'm sorry.

I miss him.

I miss him as much as then. Is that
crazy?

And you, do you miss him?

I think about him every day, you know,
if that's what you mean.

I mean, do you still miss him?

I don't really know what I'm supposed to
miss.

So you don't miss him?

I'm resigned to it. That he's not here
anymore?

No, that I miss him every day.

That I think about him every day.

Suffering's addictive, don't you think?
I mean, there should be rehabs for that

with compulsory fucking admission.

It sounds cold, detached, as if it
doesn't concern you.

Yeah, it sounds like one of those
opinions people have when it's not about

one of those actual opinions.

The idea that you're in control of your
own life, in control of your own

suffering, too.

Yeah, but it's true, though.

Don't you think? I mean, that...

To a certain extent. No, I don't think
it is. No.

Do you think it makes any difference
what you do or don't do?

That you're rewarded or punished?

What do I need to learn from this? It
makes me puke, that question. What do I

need to learn from this?

Nothing. That life is shit.

Sometimes. But some people complete
shit.

For completely inexplicable reasons.

Tell me, why haven't you been in touch
for over ten years?

Or would you rather explain why you left
in the first place? You know why I

left. A bit of explaining wouldn't go on
it.

Okay.

All right, so if I explain, or if I say
I'm sorry, would it make any difference?

Sometimes it's nice to know that you
were right from the beginning. Okay, I'm

sorry.

I'm sorry.

There you go. How's that working for
you?

Wow, you really have thought about this,
haven't you?

I don't... I don't... Well, soon,

I think.

Yeah, I'll call you back.

OK. OK, then. Bye.

Cold, eh?

Yeah.

I'm sorry. I wasn't... No, no, no.

Oh, it looks like it's going to rain.

Horrible.

Used to like the rain.

Did anyone come when I was gone?

No.

You know what?

What are you doing?

I'm going to give him a call.

Why?

Why not?

But we can wait a bit longer, can't we?

It's been an hour already, so... I
didn't know you were in a rush.

That's not the point, is it?

You have reached CNN Cemetery.

Unfortunately, we're not able to take
your call at the present time.

You can contact us Monday through
Friday.

I think it's strange.

Don't you?

I mean, I think it's strange.

That all the ground around the graves
hasn't been dug up and that there's no

sign up telling people, you know, what's
happening. I think that's weird.

I mean, he's been lying there in that
shit for ten years.

Can you imagine that? Don't do that.
Don't think about it like that.

That means you're not actually lying
there, is he?

What?

That means you're not really lying
there.

If he's not really lying there, then who
is?

You know what I mean.

You haven't changed a bit, have you?

In all these years, not a bit. I'm just
trying to look at it a different way.

Bullshit! You're trying not to look at
it.

Just like always.

Here it comes.

Yeah, but so just dismiss it as usual.

So what do you want me to do? What do
you want me to do? You want me to fire

back? No, then I'd have to adjust my
image of you too much.

Did something happen?

When I was gone, did something happen?

Lots of stuff happened while you were
gone.

No, I mean just now, while I was gone
just now. Oh, that's what you mean? Yes.

Just now? Yes. No, nothing happened just
now.

On second thought, maybe I'm not so
happy that you're here.

Okay, good, but then maybe I should go.

Yeah, you're good at that.

What do you... What do you want from me?
Do you want me to stay?

Do you want me to stay? If you want me
to stay, just stay. Do you want me to

stay?

Right.

Howard. Oh, no, no, no, no. You don't
get to do that.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm not having that. I said
I'm sorry. I don't want that. You don't

get to do that. I don't want that. I'm
sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

What do you want?

What do you want? What do I want? What
do you want?

What do I want?

Oh, my God. You're so skinny. No, no,
no.

Really? You lost so much weight. Are you
not eating?

Okay. Stop.

On his own, not good at looking after
himself.

You should eat some more, not drink too
much.

Doesn't anyone ever tell you that? Yeah,
yeah, yeah. Your mom, I expect.

No, my wife.

My wife.

Have you known her for long?

About two years.

All that time, your mom's never said a
word to me.

Probably didn't want to hurt you, you
know?

Nice.

Considerate.

I hate happiness.

Happy people.

They look so... happy.

What do you see when you look at me?

You're laughing.

That's funny.

Make you feel better? Oh, please, we're
not going in for deep psychological

analysis, are we?

I only ask what you see when you look at
me. What do you want me to see? What do

you see?

I only see flaws.

I see what isn't there but should be.

I see a history, a past, a failed past.

Yeah, maybe that.

A failed past.

A failed story.

That's what you say.

Yeah, but that's true, isn't it? We are
a failed story.

I'm sorry I can't see it any other way.

Did you know I was writing a book?

A book?

Mm -hmm.

You're writing a book? Yeah. What kind
of book?

Just a book.

A journalistic book?

No. So it's fiction?

Well... No.

Well, partly, yeah, but...

I didn't know you had aspirations on
that front.

Do you want to know what it's about?

Okay. So, it's about a man.

I mean, you could say that the man is
me, or partly me, or, you know,

But it's about a man, and it's about a
boy.

I don't want to know.

And... One morning, the man wakes up to
discover that he is not.

I said I don't want to know.

I just want to tell my story the way I
see it.

Where did you get the idea of writing a
book about something so private?

The world's full of it.

Oh, my God. So it's going to be world
literature now, is it? Okay, you know, I

can understand you being cynical about
it. I'm not cynical about it. I think

it's pathetic.

Showcasing your grief, that's pathetic,
isn't it?

I just want to give it its rightful
place, that's all.

Its rightful place? Why do we have to
give everything in life a rightful

So you close the book, and you can put
it on the shelf.

My life isn't a book you can put away on
a shelf.

When I'm dead, maybe, maybe then, yes.

So you'd rather just be your grief,
would you? Yeah, well, maybe.

Rather that than selling it to someone
who paid 15 euros for it, if you're

lucky.

That's from his bike, right?

Do you want to know for your book?

A nice little anecdote about your
Maddox.

I've got a few more, you know, with
juicy details.

Always good for book sales.

You know, I didn't expect you to be
happy about it.

Good. Yeah.

But in some way, I'm writing it for you,
too.

Us, anyway.

Okay.

Tell me.

What is this us, then?

What are we, the two of us together, in
your eyes?

We are... a man and a woman who have
lost a child.

Or perhaps I should say who first lost a
child and

then each other.

Or who lost a child and then themselves
and then each other.

Yeah, that's a very, very clear and
concise summary about, yeah.

But if you can only feel grief when you
think of a person, when you think of

somebody that you've loved so incredibly
much, and if nothing

comes along to take the place of that
grief, aren't you doing something

incredibly wrong?

I'm full of grief.

I have the right to be. I've lost a
child.

We lost a child. Then you are entitled
to grief.

What about if you had another child? I
mean, would that child have to put up

with grieving parents for all his life
long, you know, just because they feel

that they are entitled to it? I don't
have another child.

Yeah, but what if you did?

Yeah.

Do you remember when someone advised us
to have a new one?

Have a new one.

Like they were talking about getting a
new cat.

Maybe we should have.

Yeah, I mean, does it get any better if
you don't go on? No.

Does it get any better if you do go on?

It's worth a try, right?

You're a father.

You're the father of another child,
aren't you?

What difference does it make?

Are you the father of another child?

What difference does it make? I don't
have another child.

Not yet.

Val's expecting.

Val? Yeah.

That's her name.

Valerie. Val.

Her name is Valerie? Yeah. And Valerie's
pregnant?

Yeah.

By you? Yeah.

How old is she?

What does that matter?

Young, of course.

Young.

Optimistic.

I expect your mom is mad about it.
Because you are so fucking bitter.

Yeah, why would that be?

You think you're the only one with pain,
right? The only one with pain or grief.

Everything was always your story, your
drama, your suffering, your loss. As if

had nothing to do with it. Nothing at
all. You didn't see him being run over.

You weren't even there when it happened.
No, I didn't see it happen. No, I

wasn't there when it happened. No, I was
in the office.

typing up some shit about fuck knows
what. No, I didn't see it happen, but I

felt it. I feel it.

I feel it.

Right here.

Amen.

You know, when I first got to Holland, I
went running a lot.

To ease the pain, you know, the terrible
pain that you feel in your stomach, in

your chest.

I ran for miles, and I had no idea where
I was going.

But one foot in front of the other.

But fortunately,

At the end of the journey, a young woman
was waiting for you.

And she opened her arms and she took you
to her beautiful house.

And yet, then you knew you'd come home.

And after years and years of running,
you were finally where you needed to be.

At home.

With Valerie.

And before you knew it, your beautiful
little happy wife

was expecting a baby.

But then suddenly you thought, hang on,
I used to have a son somewhere long ago

that was tragically run over by a
driver, tearing along his street at 80

kilometers an hour.

Yeah, it was that.

But you know, luckily life goes on.

Then inside that gray brain, a brilliant
idea took form.

I know I'll write a book about it.

Yeah, a book about me and my son and how
difficult it all was.

Even though you had to dig really deep
into your memory because you could

remember how it had all actually
happened.

But perhaps I, your pathetic ex -wife,
can

help you a bit with the details.

Because as far as I'm concerned, it's
never ended, you know.

Never.

Every moment.

Everything. Everything is recorded in
this head.

Perfectly preserved.

You're angry with me for leaving, I get
that. Yeah.

You deserted me, it's a fact.

Yep, I left on New Year's Eve at ten
past seven with two suitcases, yeah.

It's a fact.

Yeah.

Let's just run through all those facts
again, shall we?

Do you remember what I was wearing?

What sort of weather it was? Red
sweatshirt.

Memory for detail.

I'd almost say a real writer's memory.

Do you want me to apologize again?

Do you want to? I'm sorry.

Well, that's noble. You're sorry.

You sorry?

What have I got to be sorry about?

You didn't do anything.

That's right. I didn't do anything. No,
that's right. Yeah, you didn't do

anything. What do you mean?

I left on the...

Ten past seven, two suitcases in my
hand. You didn't come after me. You

try to stop me.

You're bravo. You didn't do anything.

It's unbelievable the way you twist
things around, still.

I think it's unbelievable the way that
you wallow in self -pity.

You have no idea what you're talking
about.

Not a word from you in ten years.

And then this.

And what?

Then...

You know, I'd hope that things had
changed.

I'd hope that you'd changed.

And you?

I've changed.

I've changed a lot.

Yes, so have I.

In some ways.

I've come to terms with what's happened
to me.

Sorry to ask.

I'm not saying that I accept it or that
I understand it, but I've come to terms

with the fact that this is my life.

I do things, you know. I've got friends.
I have a job.

I go to the cinema. I take my students
to the museum.

It's all very normal.

Like a normal life, I mean. I... I get
up.

I have breakfast.

I read the paper.

I can talk about things that are
happening in the world.

I take part.

I do the best I can. I... I take part.

You just want to go on like this for
whatever time you have left.

I don't understand you.

Why do you have to understand me?
Because we have a past together. We have

history that can never be forgotten.

No matter how hard we try. And I want to
draw a line under that.

I want to draw a line under that
together.

Draw a line under it? Yeah.

You're really good at metaphors, aren't
you?

Even though I mean it.

Draw a line under it.

I can really tell you're a writer
nowadays.

It's crazy, really. I thought that being
a writer was something you had in you

your whole life, something you couldn't
avoid.

I didn't know that you could discover
you were a writer in your 50s.

It's good to know, though, that it's all
still possible, that even I, I could

still become something, that I could
still discover it.

What are you doing?

I'm going.

Maybe you could think of something else
for a change.

You know, when I was coming here, when I
was driving here, I was thinking about

you. I was thinking about when we met 20
years ago.

And I remember that you had the little
dimple in your cheek right here when you

smiled. And I wanted to tell you that I
remember that. I

wanted to tell you that I loved...

The memory of that, of you, smiling.

There it is.

Couldn't start the car.

I mean, the car

would start, but I couldn't start it.

You know?

So I bumped into the caretaker and I
showed him the letter and he told me,

yeah, they were moving a few graves,
but...

that they were old ones from the early
1900s and that they, yeah,

there was a piece in the local newspaper
about it.

Gave him sleep this night, he said.

You hate me, don't you?

No. If you don't hate me, then what?

You want me to say that I love you, that
I still love you, so that then you can

stay.

I don't know.

Is that what I'm like? Yeah.

I don't want to be like that.

You want to go somewhere else?

You sure?

I could drive you, you know.

Want to go to your place?

No.

Not my place.

What do you want to do?

I just want to stay here.

I want you to say that everything will
be all right in the end.

Everything will be all right in the end.

Yeah.

On my deathbed, probably.

Is that funny? Yeah, it's fucking funny.

I

sometimes

feel that...

That my head is full of all sorts of
things that I can't...

Can't forget, right?

That I mustn't forget.

No.

Thanks.

You know, I can remember arriving at the
hospital, going through the glass

doors, the filing doors, and the place
looked like a supermarket.

There was a restaurant right there in
the foyer with tables and chairs and

and we said we'd be there Sitting there
with Jacob in a week's time

In ice cream Remember

He's in every step I take.

He's there everywhere.

Sometimes I see a man with a boy on the
back of his bike, or playing football in

the park, or swimming in the sea, and I
think, am I that man if he's that boy?

What is the point of going on?

I forgot Vernon.

Wanna go for a walk?

Do you remember me asking you, do you
think things like this happen for a

reason?

And you looked at me like I was fucking
nuts.

And you said, these things don't happen
for a reason. There's no sense to any of

this. These things, they're random. They
happen randomly.

You know?

That was your take on it.

And that take, I just kept...

dragging me down, you know?

So I couldn't breathe.

Yeah, I'm sorry. That's just the way I
am.

Oh, I don't believe that.

Sometimes I see people who have been
through far worse and who have learned

live with it.

And they say they are happy.

And I can see them being happy.

Then I ask myself, what would...

What am I doing wrong? What's wrong with
me?

Do you understand?

Why did you leave?

Why that evening?

I couldn't do it.

You know, I couldn't, I couldn't.

Happy New Year, you know, countdown of
seconds till midnight.

Raise a glass, look at you, kiss you.

I just couldn't do it.

I remember the way the door shut with a
soft click, just like that.

As if you were off to work or just going
shopping.

As if you'd be right back.

And then the car starting up.

I counted 30 seconds till the car drove
off.

30 seconds to change your mind.

I kept on counting 15 seconds till the
sound of the car disappeared.

I looked at the clock. Ten minutes, part
seven.

It's right what you said.

I didn't do anything.

I just let you go.

With two suitcases in your hands on New
Year's Eve.

It was so hard driving away that night.
It was so fucking hard. At

every corner, I was like, go back, go
back.

Every set of traffic lights, go back, go
back.

I couldn't, I just couldn't.

I sat by the window the whole evening
with the lights out.

And I kept thinking of the last moments
with Jacob at the hospital.

You on one side of his bed and me on the
other side.

And someone saying, we're going to
disconnect him now.

How long do we still have?

A couple of minutes.

A quarter of an hour.

And I thought to myself, this isn't the
moment to cry. So I held him tight.

For the first time in weeks, I held him
tight without tubes coming out of his

body, without that sucking sound of the
respirator, the beeping of the heart

monitor.

Just him and me.

I could feel his chest rising and
falling.

And his fingers in mine.

Warm blood, beating blood.

Just me and him.

The world stood still.

Somehow it was a complete moment.

Me and him.

Nine minutes.

In the end, it turned out to be nine
minutes.

So where did you get the idea for the
letter, then?

Well, there was something in the paper
about them...

Clearing old graves and the whole fuss
about it.

What about the ground?

That was at the old gasworks.

Two things were on the same page.

I know you think I'm not.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Did you have any help? I mean, I know
you didn't want to, but did you?

I've seen all sorts of them.

Psychologists, therapists.

They all said the same thing. Yes, it's
difficult.

Yes, it will never be the same again.

I

want

to be happy again.

Is that too much to ask?

No, I don't think so.

I want someone to save me.

Yeah, it doesn't work like that.

No, it's easy for you to say. You've
been saved.

You have a new wife and soon a new
child.

Do you want to know what actually saved
me?

Yeah.

Yeah? Yeah.

Like, really?

I promise me you won't laugh.

Promise me. I won't laugh. Promise me. I
promise.

Okay.

I took up singing.

It's funny. You said you were... Okay,
it's funny though, right? No, it's

Tell me you've joined a church choir.

Well, it's a choir.

It is a choir.

It is a choir.

I love the idea of you in a choir.

Okay, so I... We rehearsed in school,
right?

And so one day... This is true.

One day, I turned up early for
rehearsal. I'm standing there and I'm

the other shot.

And I heard this man singing.

And he had this beautiful voice.

One of those voices that just kind of
shakes you, vibrates through you.

It was like I was singing it myself.

And suddenly I thought, what if this is
it?

Right? What if nothing better, nothing
more beautiful comes along

to take its place? What if this is it?

Right? And I just... Oh, that sounds
terrible to me.

No, but...

It'd be a relief, though, wouldn't it,
in a way? I mean, not wanting

anything else, not expecting anything
else. That is it, you know? That's

being happy because you have nothing
left. You have no more expectations.

But be peaceful, though, don't you
think? I mean, in a way.

I'm not very hopeful.

Well, what do you want?

Hope of peace.

You heard that man singing? Yeah. And
you thought to yourself, what if

everything stays as it is now?

Yeah. What then?

Then I was at peace, you know?

Yeah.

I don't believe it.

Well, it doesn't matter if you believe
it or not. I mean, it happened anyway,

right?

I hate it.

You know, these sorts of stories that
just happen to some people.

Stories that aren't logical, that you
can't make happen for yourself.

The idea that you have to see the light
first.

Only no one ever tells you how to do
that bit.

Do you sing much?

About once a week.

How about you?

No.

You used to think for him.

Yeah. When he was a baby.

Yeah.

In the hospital, too.

I think at the hospital. Yeah.

Do you remember?

Yeah, it was on the day that he died.

And I was holding you and you were
holding him.

You had your lips pressed to his
forehead and I could see your lips

you were singing to him.

And, yeah, I couldn't hear what it was,
but you don't remember?

Are you sure I did?

Yeah.

Yeah, I want to get out of here.

Now?

Yeah, now.

Immediately now?

Immediately now.

Because of what I just said?

No.

No, it's because of everything today,
all of it.

I just want to leave this place. I want
to go home.

You want me to drive you? No.

I just want to go home on my own.

I don't want to leave you like this.

I'm so sorry, Lucas.

You have to believe me. I'm really
sorry.

I don't want to leave you like this.

It's okay.

Is there anything I can do for you?

No, nothing. Nothing at all?

Maybe hold me.

Enter up high, cause you brought me
right down to my knees.

Lighting a flame, praying you'll save
the sleep.

Kiss me and...

Bye. Bye.