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BASED ON THE NOVEL
OF PIERRE DRIEU LA ROCHELLE

How beautiful!

GREECE. DELPHI. AUGUST 20, 1936

In other circumstances,

would you have enjoyed
the temple of Apollo?

Problem is...

I'm always more or less
in those circumstances.

Deep down, all this beauty
doesn't matter to you.

Not at all.

I don't want to love
what no longer exists,

what's irremediably lost for me.

Wouldn't it be an aberration
to love a dead woman?

Well,

the temple of Apollo,

the Parthenon,

6the Occidental churches,

are like mummies time has embalmed.

When I'm on the Acropolis,
I feel an extraordinary life.

Like here.

Now.

I'm sure it's one of the places where
the secret of former Greece is hidden.

Where we could understand

its reason for having been.

I also believe that life
came through here.

But it went.

Here I feel like a man
returning to a place he loved.

But life isn't memory.

It's tomorrow.

I don't know what they do in Russia,
Mr Boutros,

but I doubt they'll ever build something
as beautiful as the Parthenon over there.

Before the Parthenon,
or at the same period,

men from everywhere built temples to
protect their most precious belongings.

Their gods and their treasures.

Since the Parthenon,

other men built cathedrals.

What we do today isn't comparable,

but it's not because there are
no more architects, Mr. Malfosse.

- It's because there are no more gods.
- So?

So,

we'll have to invent houses for men.

We're very awkward in that area.

Sophocles' Oedipus Rex was played here.

In the late afternoon.

The show was timed so precisely

that at the very moment when Oedipus

gouged his own eyes
after discovering his incest

and the parricide he was guilty of,

the red glow of the sun

disappeared behind the Phaedriades

and the light turned to dark gray.

My favorite tragedy by Sophocles
is Antigone.

You're surprising me.

I would have thought
you'd lean towards Creon

and national interest.

Well!

Yesterday afternoon in Moscow

marked the start of the trial filed
by Stalin against Kamenev, Zinoviev

and other first rank Communist leaders.

All these men accuse themselves
of inconceivable crimes! Why?

Because they're sacrificed
to national interest!

- What if they were guilty?
- Impossible.

Not in that way at least!

Otherwise Zinoviev and Kamenev
would be monsters from soap operas!

Since your famous 1789,

the Revolution has many examples
of betrayal.

Not at all!

What Stalin wants is absolute power!

It's simple.

This story has already been told
by Sophocles.

And Shakespeare.

Once again, man is trampled
by national interest,

Mr. Boutros.

You're talking about it as you please.

It suits you to bring up human rights.

Where do you come from?

Where does the power of your peers
come from?

Your upper class culture,
so civilized, so tolerant!

They come from Robespierre's terror.

From Bonaparte's bloody dictatorship.

Maybe the revolution
has to swallow its own children

before reaching serenity.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

The room was bathed in a porous shadow
prickled by sun rays.

Above the village,
only the sun was up at this hour.

The huge blacksmith was hammering
the white hot iron bar of the horizon.

Closer to them,

the silence of siesta

that softened the life of humans,
was their accomplice.

Before leaving Athens,
Rico told me to go with you.

I don't want to receive
you as a present.

I want you to decide.

I decided.

Rico knew anyway.

But he has always pretended
to command the unavoidable.

You won't have the same life with me
as with Rico.

I hope so.

Margot?

Are you here?

In which country will we live?

If you have to go to Moscow...

can I come with you?

So? Shit!

Where's my driver's bedroom?

The small staircase,
in the corridor on the right.

The door opposite. I you want, I can...

Who's here?

It's me.

I know that Mrs. Santorini is with you.

Open the door, I have to talk to her.

Give me five minutes, Malfosse.

No, Margot, right now!

I have to get dressed.

I'll wait for you in my bedroom.

You are playing a very bad vaudeville,
my dear Raoul.

The "caught red-handed" scene.

Do you know how adultery is asserted
according to Italian law?

The police chief slips a stick

between the entwined
bodies of the lovers.

If he meets an obstacle
interrupting the stick,

it is adultery.

Please, Margot!

But you're forgetting a detail.

In this vaudeville,
you don't play the part of the husband.

You're not my husband.

If Rico is unable to keep you,

someone else has to protect you.

Exactly.

I asked for your help

and you'll help me leave Greece
with Boutros.

Come in.

Come in!

There.

Tell reception to prepare my bill.

We're leaving the hotel
in fifteen minutes.

It's the best solution.

If we get to Patras
together in your car,

it would divert the police suspicion.

There's a boat in five days,
I will embark with Michel.

We'll go to Corfu then Ragusa.

Like a tourists couple.
A real honeymoon!

Margot,

we're leaving in fifteen minutes,

you and I.

But we're going back to Athens.

Boutros will manage by himself.

We took enough risks already!

Athens? Why Athens?

You know that it's over with Rico.

It may be over
between your husband and you,

an impulse decision
that he'll regret all his life,

but what you're doing afterwards,
that's a different ballgame!

What I'm doing afterwards?

I'm leaving.

That's what I'm doing.

I'm leaving with Boutros
and it's nobody's business!

Margot,

if you're not ready to go back to Athens
with me in fifteen minutes,

I'll immediately denounce Boutros
to the Greek police.

You have things to arrange.

You don't give up
a fortune like yours like that.

You're not going to ruin your life
on a whim!

For one hour of sordid pleasure
with this rogue!

Shut up.

What do you know about pleasure?

In fifteen minutes, Margot!

Tell him!

There's no danger.

I'm Mr. Malfosse's driver, that's all.

Hello.

Hello, Madam.

Hello. I'm the Marchioness of Santorini.

My husband is a secretary
at the Italian embassy.

Please.

- No need.
- Thanks.

I'm leaving you here.

I'll walk to the Gulf of Corinth.

Do you know where we are here?

According to the legend,

and from Sophocles' descriptions
confirming it,

this is where Oedipus,
walking from Delphi,

met Laius, king of Thebes.

This is where Oedipus

killed Laius,

not knowing he was his father.

I don't believe in omens, Mr. Malfosse.

Actually, General Metaxas
has just forbidden Sophocles' theatre.

I'll be sincere with you, Mr. Boutros.

I hope that Greek police will catch you.

And that you'll no longer burden
Mrs. Santorini's life.

I'll wait for you for five days,
from tomorrow.

No more.

How shall I find you in Patras?

I'll leave a note for you at Cook's.

This way, My Lady.

Mrs. Santorini has just arrived,
Mr. Primoukis.

I told her you were looking for her.

I heard you were in Delphi.

With my good friend, Mr. Malfosse.

Did you want to consult the Oracle?

In fact, I wanted to see your husband.

But he left.

He did too.

Charlie?

- Yes, Lady?
- A Bronx, please.

I already came to see him,

fifteen days ago,

in the night of the 4th to the 5th
of August.

Did I see you that night?
I don't recall it.

You were sleeping, My Lady.

You slept the sleep of the innocent.

Thanks, Charlie.

Are you interested in politics,
Mrs Santorini?

Do you know that that day,
General Metaxas proclaimed martial law

suspended the constitution
and took full powers

in the name of our king Georges II?

The Communists had called
a general strike for the next day,

August 5th.

A pretext to mobilize their troops
for a coup.

Like they did in Spain.

Civil war has been raging there
for a month,

because of the Communists.

But we got a jump of ours.

We caught them in bed!

A hard day, My Lady, a very hard day!

Give me your word of honour that you won't
do anything in Athens to hold me back.

You won't send a telegraph to Rico,

you won't tell my friends,
you won't give me a speech.

I only ask you one thing,

to tell you again what
I think on the way.

Anyway I can't stop you from talking.

But I'll be deaf.

Deaf!

A hard day, My Lady, a very hard day!

Yet a Communist leader escaped me.

One of the most dangerous ones.

He was trained in Moscow,
with Zachariades.

He was one of the organizers
of the general strike in Thessaloniki,

in May.

Three times, the same day,

he slipped between my fingers.

ATHENS AUGUST 4, 1936

I finally found the man that Boutros
was supposed to meet that afternoon.

A liaison officer from the Communist
central committee

who had been taken
in the first roundup in the morning.

We made the liaison officer talk.

He had an appointment with Boutros,
in a small movie theatre in the suburbs.

Is it here?

Facing the Communist forces
coming from the whole country,

and despite the strict rules
of neutrality,

General Franco came
in person on the front

to encourage his phalanges
and supervise the combats.

In the horror of fratricidal fights,

how many innocent deaths

will Spain have to endure

before order and
legality can rule again?

Unfortunately,
he had disappeared once again.

This story is fascinating,
Mr. Primoukis,

but I must leave. I have an appointment
and I have to get changed.

Of course, My Lady.

Sorry for holding you back
with my chatter.

By the way, did you want
to see my husband?

Don't count on it this summer,
he's in Rome with his ambassador.

Ciano called them to consult.

Count Ciano is very
interested in Greece.

But is he coming back?

I mean,
the Marquess of Santorini, your husband.

No. We're going on a vacation.

- I'm meeting him in Ragusa.
- Are you leaving soon?

In a few days.
I'll take the boat in Patras.

I have no doubt that the 4th of August
was an important day

in the history of Greece.

But, you see, Mr. Primoukis,
to me, this particular day

is the tennis tournament
of the diplomatic corps.

That day,
my husband won the men's doubles

with Mr. Von Pahlen,

the first counsellor of
the German Embassy.

AGAIN, AUGUST 4, 1936

40-15.

Game. Commander Albrecht serves.

It looks like Rico
really wants to win this final.

Rico always want to win.

He doesn't play if he's not sure to win.

15 all.

Wonderful!

He'll kill two birds with one stone.

He'll win the cup,

and Dora Cooper.

30-15.

Will you comfort me, Staalbaum?

You told Farid Pacha
that I was never satiated with men,

because I was never really hungry.

You'll whet my appetite!

I'm joking.

Let's not change our conventions.
You're beside me

to defend me and protect me
against temptations.

- 30 all.
- And who tempts you? Raoul Malfosse?

He's very constant!

You often go to his villa in Kephissia.

They're all very constant.

They all have villas in Kephissia.

And they always see me
in all the villas in Kephissia.

Malfosse, it would be safety, of course,

but I don't care about safety.

Bravo!

Monsieur Von Pahlen

and the Marquess of Santorini
win the match in four sets,

7-5, 3-6, 6-4, 6-2.

Hello, Mr. Malfosse.
The press conference is finishing.

Here, in Athens!

What are the goals of our movement?

The King!

The country!

Religion!

Family!

The renewal of Greece

through the elimination
of the party system,

such is the goal of the regime
proclaimed today,

the 4th of August, 1936!

This is the beginning
of the third Greek civilization,

under the auspices of King Georges
and General Metaxas, Prime Minister!

Has he been talking like this for long?

He has finished.

He's just holding forth.

What is their program concretely?

Martial law,

dissolution of Parliament,

outlawing Communists.

In short, a military dictatorship
sponsored by the Crown.

We want a society centred on work.

No Greek

is authorized not to work.

Work may be spiritual,

but it must remain work.

The only exceptions
will be the unemployed,

the old, and the sick.

Thank you.

Well done for the unemployed.

It's the end of the small Entente.

The open door to German economic
penetration in the Balkans.

It's a hard blow for France.

Which France, Mr. Malfosse?

That of Léon Blum?

40.

30-40.

Are you giving up Rico
to this Dora Cooper without a fight?

I give up Rico to himself, Avghi.

Deuce.

There's nothing you can do
against a man's passion

for his legend as a seducer.

- Staalbaum says that you don't like men.
- He also says you like them too much.

Advantage Mr. Milano.

In fact, Staalbaum wants to be loved.

And that we'd be indifferent to others.

He doesn't want to be loved,

he wants women to give in,
to succumb to him,

to suffocate in his arms,
to cry out with joy in his bed.

Tell me, Avghi.

Do you really suffocate in his arms?

He's a relentless Dane,
deliciously brutal.

Advantage, Mr. Barlow.

But he's too systematic.

I like rites, not routine.

Game, set and match.

Mr Barlow wins the Athens
diplomatic tournament,

men's singles.

I would have him as a partner
for a naughty siesta.

7-5, 6-2...

I would defend my own chances,
my little Avghi.

Oh, you!

I think you're taking a siesta

for eternal love.

Malfosse is back from the coup.
Let's hear what he's saying.

- Are you interested in politics?
- Not at all.

But I hate slaughters.

Rico says that Metaxas is a slaughterer.

You know, Margot, slaughters
are a Greek national tradition.

- Hello, Margot.
- Hello.

- Hello.
- Hello, Avghi.

Good.

I'm thirsty!

Oh yes, ah!

Hey!

- To the winner and his darling!
- To us both then!

Ridiculous!

You're welcome, Sir.

Christina!

Ulysses is back to Ithaca.

He's late, probably.
He had lots of adventures,

but he's back.

Where are Penelope's suitors?

The test of the bow is tomorrow,
but Ulysses should be worried.

Among the suitors, more than one
is able to bend their bow.

Let's go build up strength
for this new test.

What are you thinking about?

What am I thinking about, Ulysses?

I'm wondering what sign
will make me recognize you.

You've left me so long ago.

Ulysses was the only one to know
the secret of the marriage bed,

carved directly in the stump
of a huge tree,

around which the house was built.

In my story, Ulysses never knew
the secret of the marriage bed.

Never.

In my story...

you're not Penelope.

Ah!

In my story, I'm lost.

I dream that I'm running after a man...

who's moving away.

I'm still seven years old.

And I'm still with my mother in Vienna,
every time I'm dreaming.

My mother says my father left
because he loved other women.

Other women.

You enter into my dream,

smiling,

very handsome.

But I'm still seven years old.

Wait.

I'll try.

You're forty.

Or I have gray hair.

And you are young.

Young.

Like the day I met you.

We're never the same age in my dreams.

In real life neither.

I bet I can do it with
a vase on my head.

That make for a nice hat!

It suits her wonderfully.

Where did we meet this Dora Cooper?

On the Riviera, last summer,
with Drieu la Rochelle.

Oh yes.

She still thinks that I'm destined
for a brilliant future.

They all think that.

For a few weeks.

I believed it myself for a few years.

Let's go to bed.

It's too late for big decisions.

You're doing it!

She did it!

Please, Charlie!

Wait for me outside.

- Shall we take my car, Avghi?
- If you want.

I'm calling this a real breakfast,
Mr. Malfosse,

English style.

But let's get back to business.

This man, this Boutros...

came to you, on the 5th of August,

in the morning, is that right?

And you don't remember
who recommended him?

Someone mentioned him at
the diplomatic corps tennis tournament,

but who?

Maybe Mr. Staalbaum,
the Danish minister,

or Farid Pacha,
the Albania chargé d'affaires...

Or the Marquess of Santorini.

Maybe, in fact.

I would have to ask them.

In fact, I had just received
my new Packard.

I needed a good mechanic.
I took him on trial.

And he was a very good mechanic.

And he left you like that? On a whim?

Yes.

When we came back from Delphi.

On the road to Levádia.

I make a comment on his driving...

On his driving or on his behaving,
Mr. Malfosse?

His reaction was insolent.

I put him in his place.

He ran away as a madman
in the countryside.

He didn't tell you
why he was going to Patras?

Patras and not a trace, Mr. Malfosse!

I'll tell you the end of that story
in a few days.

You'll be surprised to learn
your driver's true identity.

Let's go.

Yes, I ran!

He knows everything, Margot!

How, I don't know!

He must have informers everywhere.

Yes, someone at the Acropolis,

or one of my staff here, how do I know?

But he knows your friend is in Patras.

Even if he doesn't know his real name.

You didn't tell him, at least?

You did?

I was sure.

Listen to me, Margot.

No, Margot, please, listen to me!

God knows it's hard to tell you that,
but leave immediately.

Yes.

Don't take any luggage.

Be careful, you'll be followed.

Travel on buses, change often.

No! Don't take the boat in Patras!

Take a boat for the islands
and do a detour.

There.

Good bye, my dear.

Good luck, Margot.

And while historians are studying
the consequences

of the recent conference in Yalta,

the noose of Allied forces is tightening
around German defences.

Yesterday, February 13, 1945,

Russian forces liberated Budapest,

while on the Western front,
Allied armies crossed the Siegfried line

and crossed the river Meuse
into enemy territory.

So, ineluctably,
the last bastions of the Third Reich

are falling under the assault
of liberation armies.

In Washington, President Roosevelt
declared in front of Congress...

- The prison, please?
- This way, major.

Thanks.

REGISTRY

Santorini?

Go get your things. You're leaving.

Come.

Here she is!

So, Mr. Rico,
did they tell you who denounced you?

No.

It was anonymous.

Personal revenge, probably.

Mr. Malfosse's intervention
arranged everything.

Eh!

I had to prove them that you broke off
with Mussolini in 1938.

And that you chose exile.

You already knew the area, Mr. Malfosse?

No. Not t all.

My lands are in the Loire region.
Quiet and peaceful Anjou.

I haven't enjoyed it
for fifteen years actually.

When...

When Margot offered me
to settle down here,

in her house, just before war,

I was exhausted,
I didn't know where to go.

But I came to like it.

I became a real countryman.

Returning to land did you good.

Didn't it?

Mr. Malfosse!
Look what I found in the bathroom!

Oh, but she's very pretty, Sir!

What's her name, Sir?

My name is Margot Santorini.

And he's Rico Santorini.

He's my dad's brother.

And you're Malfosse Santorini,
aren't you?

With her, I feel younger.

I feel more alive every day.

Because every day,
she looks more and more as her mother.

Margot came back, two years ago.

She entrusted me the girl,
she spent a few days here,

with us, in her house.

Then she went back there.

Three months later, I received a letter
from Drieu la Rochelle.

The Germans had arrested her.

He tried to intervene, to no avail.

She had vanished.

Why did you let her go, Rico?

I didn't let her go, Raoul.

I encouraged her to do it.

She had to go to the end of herself.

Even with another man.

Thanks to another man!

Of course,
her couple with Boutros was madness.

It seemed to me that that madness
was necessary.

In fact, you too helped her
leaving with Boutros.

Yes, I could have held her back.

Probably.

By turning Boutros to the police.

I thought about it for a while.

I'm ashamed to say so.

There's one thing I never asked you.

That Boutros, did you know him
before that fateful night?

In any good story,

there's always a character
that embodies fate.

Boutros was fate.

He swooped on us.

That night, Margot and I
had decided once again to split up.

ATHENS, AUGUST 5, 1936

We no longer had the strength

nor the imagination to live together.

We hadn't found yet
the courage to separate.

Good night.

"And we go, following the lava flow,

Lulling our infinite
on the finite of the seas

Some, joyful at fleeing
a wretched fatherland

Others, the horror of their birthplace,

A few,

Astrologers drowned
in the eyes of a woman,

Some tyrannic Circe
with dangerous perfumes."

"Astrologers drowned
in the eyes of a woman."

Oh!

Shh!

I'll explain you.

I'm not a burglar.

They're after me for political reasons.

I find it hard to understand English
normally,

but at 4 AM with a gun
pointed at my back!

Speak slowly.

What did you say earlier?

I'm not a burglar.

They're after me for political reasons.

I'm a trade unionist.

Metaxas' police are chasing me.

May I move?

You're not French?

My father was French.

I was born in Austria.

But I lived in France.

I'm telling you my life story!

If I'm threatened with a gun,
I say it all, you know.

My husband is an Italian diplomat.

- Italian?
- Yes.

Oh shit!

It's day now, you can't leave.

I'll wake up my husband.

No!

What do you think?

That he'll turn you in to the police
because he's Italian?

What idea do you have of men?

In any case, in your situation,

you have to trust me.

Wake up all your clients
on the ground floor.

I'll search all the rooms!
The first floor too!

Rico!

What?

Rico!

You'll think you're dreaming
or that I'm crazy.

- There's a man in my room.
- Already?

No, Rico, I'm serious.

Metaxas' police are chasing him.

He saw me at my window
and jumped into the room.

A respectable woman
should never live on the ground floor.

In Paris, when I met you, you had
a ground floor flat on Henri-Martin.

It didn't give you a good reputation.

It's not about my reputation, Rico!

It's about a man's life!

My Lord? Please!

The police wants to see you.

Go back to your room.
I'll deal with them.

I'm sorry,
but it's Mr. Primoukis himself.

Go!

I'm really sorry.

He's a dangerous man, always armed.

An agent of the Komintern.
He calls himself Nikola.

You know, whether he
calls himself Nikola or Stalin,

I don't care.

I give you my word he's not here.

That should be enough, I think.

- But Mr. Santorini...
- Lord Santorini!

Or Excellence, as you wish.

Lord Santorini, you are Italian?
We are allied

in the fight against communism.

Precisely, Mr. Primoukis,

it's inappropriate
to be so insistent with me.

Since when do you search
the private apartment of an allied?

And a diplomat, what is more!

Lord Santorini, I'm simply asking then

to have a look in your wife's bedroom.

Primoukis,
are you suggesting there could be,

unbeknownst to me,
a man in my wife's bedroom?

My wife would then have a lover?

- But...
- We can check, Primoukis.

But do you realize the complications?

Just a moment, My Lord!

Just a moment.

A lot more distinguished, undoubtedly.

Can you drive? Do you have a license?

I have an international license.

Do you have some notions of mechanics?

I'm an expert, I worked in a garage.

- Among others.
- Ah, perfect then!

Raoul Malfosse
needs a driver and mechanic.

And he can't refuse anything to my wife.
He's been silently adoring her for a year.

Does he have political
ideas, this Mr. Malfosse?

He has a big public works business,

in Greece, Syria, Egypt.

In France, he'd probably be
strongly against the Popular Front.

But here, his direct competitors
are the Germans and the Italians,

so he's rather antifascist.

But you, an Italian,

why do you help me?

I'm not Italian.

Mussolini is Italian.

I'm nothing, I'm cosmopolitan.

A penniless aristocrat who married
a beautiful rich woman.

Too rich and too beautiful for me,
actually.

Do you know Valery Larbaud?

A French writer, my favorite author.

Mind you, knowing Larbaud
isn't essential in your line of work.

Politics is dry, or it's not politics.

To succeed, you need ambition,

perseverance,

a taste for authority,

the faculty of betraying everything,
except one's idea

of one's own destiny.

Bourgeois politics, probably, yes.

Bourgeois don't need
to meddle in politics.

Not directly anyway.

They move money and goods,
that's all they need.

And they find frustrated petty bourgeois
to do politics for them.

Some Mussolinis, for example.

With us...

With you, politics is also
the business of petty bourgeois.

Stalin is just a former seminarist,
at the end of the day.

No?

To me, politics isn't just Stalin.

It's the collective violence of people.

It upsets the natural course of history
that's always oppressive.

It's the will to oppose realization
to resignation.

Word to prayer.

The risks of life
to the false certainties of death.

Come in!

Thank you, that's OK.

Are you hungry?

Your protégé has
devoured your breakfast.

It's very good for your figure.

You're in luck. He's very romantic.

And he looks even better
without his moustache.

You have been very good tonight
with Primoukis.

Very good.

Even if Boutros hadn't been hidden here,

I wouldn't have allowed the police
to search your room.

I'm a Secretary of Embassy, after all!

Do you think that Malfosse
will be as understanding as me?

Go now.

BATHROOM

717. There you are, Sir.

I applied at the Ministry.

Yes, the cabinet attaché
is my wife's cousin.

He's very understanding.

Hello, my friend!

I hope didn't make you wait too long.

Margot was radiant that morning.

She probably didn't know why yet.

But her body proclaimed her happiness.

Even before her spirit
had guessed the reason.

Nine! Ten! One!

I was waiting for her impatiently
in Kephissia.

Her phone call full of innuendo
had me intrigued.

I was watching out for her BMW...

No, it was a convertible.
Cord, latest model.

The BMW, it was in 1935.

- Do you think so?
- I'm sure.

A white Cord.

She bought it in the spring of 1936.

KEPHISSIA. AUGUST 5, 1936

What's that mystery?

Why did you ask me to wait
away from the house?

Your staff must not see me arrive
with this man.

- Rico knows about this trip?
- Come on, Raoul!

What are you thinking?

Do you listen to all
the gossip about me?

Raoul, are you my friend?

There's one else in Athens I can ask
what I expect from you.

Mrs. Santorini told me about you.

- Are you a good mechanic?
- Quite good, I think.

I need you for 15 days.

No more. Does that suit you?

It suits me perfectly.

In 15 days took,
I'll have to be some where else.

Margot, I think you should go now.

I prefer that the staff
doesn't see you in Kephissia,

on the day Mr. Boutros arrived here.

Good.

Thank you.

Margot, don't forget we're having
lunch together at the golf!

No, Raoul!

I'd like to thanks Mrs. Santorini.

In five or six days, I'll need you.

Your car could be broken, for example.

You could need to do some shopping.

You would ask Mr. Malfosse
to lend you the Packard.

I'll drive you.

I need to go to town,

make some contacts, know where we're at.

The driver outfit
will be my best protection.

Good.

I know it amuses you.

It's like in the movies.

It's funny, when I was a child in Egypt,

my father had a Jaguar too.

You're not Greek?

Yes, I'm Greek.

But my mother was French.

My father had an export business
in Alexandria.

Her, you'll have your meals
with my servants.

I hope so, Mr. Malfosse.

There is no other solution.
And a man like you

must have a taste for equality.

Ah! Equality!

Equality, Mr. Malfosse,

is not having my meals
with your servants.

It's not even you having your meals
with them.

It's that you can no longer use
the possessive.

"My servants".

Because there will no longer be
any servants.

You don't say.

And when is that idyllic society due?

Oh! How long have they been preaching
the Christian evangelical principles?

We'll talk about this
in 2,000 years time, Mr. Malfosse.

In the mean time,
I'll send you my valet.

He'll show you where you may stay.

Margot is going to fall in love.

Fall in love. It's very Christian,
this notion of a fall.

- Are you losing your wife?
- She's no longer my wife.

- I haven't touched her for years.
- Why?

I don't know.

I look at her,

I find her beautiful.

But the images don't come anymore.

Nor words.

You sleep with images and words?

I'm a refined Italian man.
You know that.

Yes.

I'm going to work on my vocabulary.

- Are you married in France?
- Yes.

Are you getting a divorce?

Probably.

I'm warning you,
don't even think of marrying me.

I'm not interested.

The money belongs to Margot, doesn't it?

You'll be poor, even better.

I love paying men to make love to me.

So you'll have to pay a lot, my angel.

- Why?
- Because I don't last, usually.

Short term investments
are always the most expensive ones.

Margot?

- Margot, it's your turn!
- Wait.

- What are thinking about?
- Here are a few lines.

You'll see.

"I took a minimum of necessary powers
to face Communist danger,

and I have no intention
to relinquish them before I rid

the country of Communism
and establish..."

- Decidedly!
- "...an unshakable order."

There you go.

Mr. Von Pahlen,
it seems that General Metaxas

is a disciple of your Chancellor.

No, Mr. Malfosse!

Passion is blinding you.

The Chancellor Hitler
didn't get to power by a coup,

but through free
parliamentary elections.

In fact, Metaxas's coup was prepared
by your British allies, not us.

But you're going to
take advantage of it.

France has redrawn borders
as it thought convenient

in Eastern Europe and the Balkans,

for more than fifteen years.

But France had won the war,
Mr. Von Pahlen. So?

However, France lost the peace.

You have lived negligently on
the powder keg of the Versailles Treaty.

Are you interested in
the Versailles Treaty, Lady Santorini?

Of course, Mr. Von Pahlen, I have to.

My country was a result of it.

- You're Austrian by birth, it's true.
- Yes.

Luckily your husband isn't here.
He'd cause a scene,

maybe not marital,
but at least diplomatic!

The Duce was very interested in Austria.

Far too interested.

To the reunion of German people!

I do not wish it.

It's here.

- I'll leave.
- Leave?

I received instructions.

I have to go abroad.

But we couldn't even talk together.

We talked a little bit the first night.

Our legs were entwined.

I could feel the curve
of your lower back in my hand.

Keep talking, please.

Say anything, I'm listening to you.

I'll never know the taste of your mouth.

Michel.

Michel Boutros.

Primoukis is carrying on
his investigation.

He's convinced I was hiding
at the Acropolis that night.

He's interrogating
the staff of the hotel.

You should never be seen with me again.

I'll ask you to do
one last thing for me.

Tomorrow morning, go to an address
I'll give you on my behalf.

It's in Colonaki.

Hello.

- Are you Amalia Sepharis?
- Yes.

I was told that the Thessaloniki parcel
had arrived.

Tsingos is OK? He managed to escape?

I was told that the Thessaloniki parcel
had arrived.

The Thessaloniki one, yes,
but the letter from Lamía got lost.

I don't know anything about Tsingos.

I'm just supposed to take an envelope
that you keep here.

Of course.

Excuse me.

The question escaped me.

I'm going to get that envelope.

Amalia?

Did Tsingos live here?

Is Boutros in the garage?

Good evening, Malfosse!

It's a beautiful night and we decided
to organize a surprise party at yours.

- Will you have us
- Come in!

- You did well.
- Good evening. How are you?

- Good evening.
- Good evening. Good evening, beauties!

- My respects, Madam.
- Good evening!

Good evening, Dora.

- How pretty she is!
- Good evening.

Who had that absurd idea?

If one of these dolls sees Boutros
and starts gossiping,

I'll be in a right mess.

You know that Primoukis hasn't given up!

This crazy idea is Margot's. She
wanted to see her protégé a last time.

Yes! Boutros is leaving us.

But don't celebrate too soon.

You're organizing his departure.

Me?

Margot planned everything.
She'll explain you herself.

I could have asked Rico.

But he's going to Rome tomorrow
with the Ambassador.

And with Dora Cooper too,
if you want to know.

Well...

I'm giving in to your desires,
once more.

Boutros will leave first, on foot,

to avoid drawing attention.

We'll pick him up on the way
out of Athens.

In Delphi, he'll leave us.

We'll come back together, the two of us.

Alone.

Don't play with my feelings, Margot.

But I'm playing with mine, Malfosse.

I have your passport.

Amalia Sepharis is beautiful.

I arranged everything
for your departure.

Malfosse is taking us to Delphi.

From there, you'll go down to Patras.

There are boats to Corfu everyday,
full of tourists,

hard to watch.

I wrote it all here. You'll read later.

Here!

You should work at the organization.

You wanted to know
the taste of my mouth.

I could hide you.

Keep you next to me.

Keep you!

No.

It's because I'm
leaving that you love me.

Because there's in me
something bigger than me.

You need another life.

Not a lover.

Michel!

Michel!

I'd like to keep you.

No.

You're out of breath, barefoot.

Yet no man is missing on the terrace.

But I'm not interested in men,
my little Dora.

Not at all.

You look strange.
Who are you talking about?

Who could we be talking about,
Dora and I, if not Rico?

Go with Boutros.

I barely saw him, but there are men

that you should recognize straightaway.

He exists.

You're wasting your time with me.
Like you'd waste it with Staalbaum.

With Malfosse, you'd be bored to death.

You were made to give yourself,
body and soul.

Boutros won't probably love you
as much as I did, but...

he'll love you better.

Communism isn't that important.
It's a word.

We know what life does to words.

A strong man is always better than
the words that make him live at one point.

I didn't have time to tell him
why I feel so close to him.

Do you remember?

Do you remember two years ago
when your mother died?

I was in Vienna.

It was in February.

Dollfuss' troops crushed
the workers militias.

I didn't understand anything.

But I was horrified.

Now this story has a meaning.

You never told me about it.

You see?

You had kept that memory for Boutros.

One thing.

Leave me some money.

The time for me to sort things out,
make arrangements with Dora.

Yes.

All right.

Rico!

- Hello.
- Good afternoon.

We have an appointment
with Mr. Drieu at three.

Mr. Malfosse.

- I'll ask, Sir.
- Thanks.

This house belongs to Dora Cooper.

I feel fine here, waiting for death.

The Germans locked Dora up in a camp.

Near Vittel.

I managed to get her out, in 1942.

Did Dora tell you about Margot's arrest?

How did she know?

Oh, I don't remember.

I immediately took some steps.

I tried to know. Nothing.

He had disappeared.
Taken away somewhere in Germany.

She was beautiful, wasn't she?

I remember a kind of inner flame.

An obstinate joie de vivre,
almost despaired.

Why did she leave?

She wanted to meet someone
on the other side of Europe.

A Greek man,

Communist,

named Boutros.

She must have been
arrested along the way.

What a waste!

Around 1934,
I was fascinated by communism,

like the two or three men
who mattered to me,

that I admired.

And I became the contrary.

For the same reasons, actually.

The same bad reasons.

Today, it's over.
I'm not interested in anything.

It eludes us anyway.

The march of communism in Europe
is getting clearer every day,

inexorable, irresistible.

Stalin is forced to go to the end,
straightaway.

Stalin will go to the end of what
Anglo-Americans already gave him.

Not an inch more.

Look at Greece these days.

The Communists are crushed
and Stalin doesn't move.

He doesn't say a word.
He's letting Churchill have his way.

So there won't even be the Apocalypse?

Certainly not.
There will only be politics.

ATHENS. APRIL 20, 1967

- Hello.
- Kalimera, Miss.

I booked. Miss Santorini.

Santorini Margot. Ah yes!

Thank you.

Your father lead
a battalion of partisans,

around Athens.

We had the order to retreat.

Boutros didn't agree.

He went to discuss it
with the general staff,

the party leaders.

On the way back,
he was taken in an ambush

on the road to Delphi.

Primoukis...

Primoukis, a former policeman,

a collaborationist,

who had gone back
to work for the British,

he pierced through his eyes,

before having him shot.

You don't look like your father.

But to your mother.

It's amazing how you look like her.

It's incredible.

I though I saw her like this summer day,

30 years ago.

She asked me if the letter from Lamía
had arrived.

It was the password.

I saw her again in 1943.

I was supposed to take her to Tsingos.

She was taken in a raid
two days before going to meet him.

She vanished, without a trace.

Tsingos was your father's real name.
Did you know it?

Tsingos' daughter!

It's incredible!

Above the village,
only the sun was up at this hour.

The huge blacksmith was hammering
the white hot iron bar of the horizon.

Closer to them,

the silence of siesta,

that softened the life of humans,
was their accomplice.

They threw upon one another.

Desire had found its way
through their worried souls

and was at last accomplished.

Their hunger wanted to bite.

He opened his arms.

Flowers hold their petals high
before blooming.

Marvel of the body,

marvel of the fleshy souls,

specified to the tip of the breasts.

To the tip of the nails.

To the tip of the tongue.

At the very moment when pleasure took
them through its mysterious corridor,

they looked at each other in the eye,

through the darkness.

With a brotherly ardour,
they wanted to do together

this journey through the underworld,

where most part

and lose themselves.

Subtitle translation by: Valerie Le Guen