Original subtitles

He's very still and very pale.

Nonsense. He'll be perfectly fine. Strong as a horse.

I'm called Leo now. I hate to be called Lionel.

Logan?

- Logan. - Logan.

Are you all right, darling?

Freya.

You be careful, my sweet.

Take care of yourself.

Ah, Mr Mountstuart.

You're back with us.

Where am I?

Intensive care in St Botolph's Hospital, East London.

What's happened?

You were in a traffic accident. Hit by a van.

You've been in a coma for two weeks.

- Two weeks? - Get some rest. You'll be all right.

But you're going to be here for a while.

I'll have a look at that a little bit later.

And how are you today? Jolly good.

Ah! There you are. Yes.

Now, the thing is...

- So, this is Logan. - Mr Mountstuart.

Logan won't use his bedpan.

No, I won't use my bedpan. But I do need to go to the lavatory,

to the toilet, with some urgency.

And I would like a wheelchair to take me there.

I've been in this ward for six weeks,

and every time I've requested a wheelchair one has been brought to me.

I'm the new matron. Things have changed.

My nurses don't wheel patients to the toilets.

- Then bring me some crutches. - You're not authorised crutches.

- Then summon a hospital porter. - Porters are busy.

You have a bedpan. Use it.

Ned! Ned! Can I borrow your crutches?

They refuse to wheel me to the toilet any more. It's that new bloody matron.

I'd better not, Logan.

She'll have me guts for garters.

I'll give them back to you, for God's sake. I need to go to the toilet.

If she knew I'd lent them to you, my life wouldn't be worth living.

Use the bedpan, mate.

This is the first time in my life that I have been badly injured,

the first time I've had an operation under general anaesthetic,

and the first time I've been in hospital.

Those of us who are healthy forget about this vast parallel universe of the unwell,

their daily miseries, their banal ordeals.

This is a geriatric ward,

though no one will actually admit it.

Nothing but old men waiting to die.

Who decided I was an old man, all of a sudden?

Oi!

Do me a favour, as an Englishman.

Pull the plugs out, mate.

I want to go.

I can't stand it any longer.

I wish I could help you, but...

I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.

Thank you.

They cut off the electricity, and the phone and then they cut the water in your flat.

I said, "Mr Mountstuart is in hospital, for God's sake."

But do they listen? They never listen.

Thanks so much for trying, Subadar. How's Mrs Singh?

Oh, she's very happy. Now I have my vasectomy.

Well, perhaps that's the answer. Maybe I should have one.

When are you coming home, Logan? We're missing you on Turpentine Lane.

As soon as possible. I can't wait.

- What's this? - Doesn't usually happen.

So don't think we're gonna make a habit of this.

Hello?

Oh, my God! Sandrine.

How on earth did you find me?

Yes, I know. I had this accident. I've been in this place for weeks.

Enough about me. How's Ben?

Oh!

I'm so sorry.

That's terrible, terrible news.

He was my best friend.

The best.

I'm immobile, Sandrine. My leg is in a cast.

I can't walk. I'm so sorry.

He was my best friend.

Hello. Joining or leaving us?

I'm waiting for my discharge.

Well, God be with you.

What's God got to do with anything?

Oh! Ah, yes.

God's love is with you. God's love has healed you, made you well.

What utter, tragic, mumbo jumbo, nonsense.

I should tell you that I'm an atheist. A devout atheist.

Have you never felt God's love in your life, my friend?

No, because it...

He doesn't exist.

My best friend has just died a disgusting, lingering death from cancer.

God's love didn't show in his case, I'm afraid.

Take a look around this room. Open your eyes.

But God is in this room, with us here. Now.

- Jesus Christ! - And Christ too.

May I tell you one thing?

No plumb line can fathom the depths of my faithlessness.

Now, please fuck off and leave me alone.

Right. God be with you.

You may go, Mr Mountstuart.

The ambulance is downstairs and will take you home.

I won't be needing this. It's all yours.

Good day to you, Matron.

Enjoy the rest of your life. I intend to enjoy mine.

Wednesday, June the 12th.

What's happening to this country?

Strikes every week, everyone angry and confrontational.

A huge army of unemployed,

and I'm the newest recruit.

And now with Ben gone, so has my last reliable source of income.

But Logan Mountstuart, you are free.

You are a writer.

There's everything to live for.

When I write my memoirs, I shall refer to this period of my life

as the dog-food years.

Bowser has saved me, it's as simple as that.

Though I must say that the fundamental ingredient in any dog-food stew

is a strong sauce.

Tomato ketchup, brown sauce, Tabasco, Worcester.

As there's something irreducibly gamey and long-lasting about the taste of dog food.

Still, it is nutritious and very cheap.

Making do has become almost a question of simple survival.

And it's a process that takes up so much of my time,

that I couldn't write even if I wanted to.

Can't even think of a title for my new novel.

All I need is just a tiny bit more money.

Just a tiny, tiny bit.

We think you may be too old.

I may look old. I don't feel old.

Is Mountstuart a double-barrelled name?

No. Is that important?

This is Roth, Brownwell. I'm John.

So, why do you want to join the Socialist Patients' Kollective?

Well, I was recently in hospital for several months.

And I was shocked, not to say completely disgusted, by what I saw there.

And I want to do something...

Anything to help patients safeguard their rights

and their essential dignity.

I want to help change things in our disgraceful, ancient hospitals.

Right.

The SPK has nothing to do with the National Health Service,

and it has nothing to do with hospitals.

Oh. Well, the name is very misleading. What are you, then?

- We're anti-fascist. - So am I, as it happens.

- Have you heard of the Situationists? - No.

- Andreas Baader and Ulrike Meinhof? - Yes.

Red Army Faction and the Urban Guerrilla movement?

I think so.

The struggle against Nazi Imperialists in West Germany?

Look, I don't know about all that stuff. I just know I want to do something.

I don't want to take the rest of my life passively, lying down.

After my experience in hospital, I realised that

people's lives are dominated by monolithic institutions,

and their stupid rules, and by petty martinets.

I just want to help people stand up for themselves.

Well put, Mountstuart. Yeah, good. Yeah. Good.

But what you see here is SPK working circle communication.

We're a small group.

A cell, if you will. A cadre.

We produce a weekly newspaper called the Situation.

Sales of this newspaper are our main source of income.

Now, we need people to sell the Situation on the street.

Every copy you sell, you receive 10%.

Interested?

What do you do with the rest of the money?

We pass it on to the SPK working circle action.

What we're interested in is intervention. Yeah?

We see something that we don't like, we disapprove of, we intervene.

So we may... we may support a strike.

We may expose fascist lies.

We may donate money to good causes.

Like helping our Socialist comrades abroad.

But all this costs money.

- Ten percent of all sales, cash? - Yes. Yeah.

Count me in.

Welcome to the SPK, Mountstuart.

It didn't require much thought.

Unlike my fellow vendors, I don't go to working-class pubs,

I go to universities, polytechnics, art schools.

I sell the Situation in cafeterias and common rooms.

Unlike my fellow vendors, I wear a suit and tie.

Unlike my fellow vendors, I read each issue and can talk about its contents.

Mostly ultra-left proclamations

about how only violent conflict will achieve the Marxist paradise we long for.

With my sales hugely outstripping my rivals',

I've become very popular with the SPK.

£183 and change.

You owe me £18.30.

Yeah, there's been a slight alteration in the basic contract.

Working circle communication has voted to

cap all vendors' commission at £10.

Just like that?

Goal posts moved stealthily in the middle of the night and I'm short eight quid.

Money's all going to a very good cause.

You've just robbed me of my incentive to sell more copies. That's fucking stupid.

Oh, dear. The angry old capitalist emerges.

Not working for yourself, Mountstuart. Lose that idea.

You're working for the SPK now.

Ah, John, I was looking for you.

- We've had the call from Hamburg. - Yeah, good.

Right, I'll call back later.

Can I buy a drink for someone?

Oh, yes, please. Pint of bitter.

- How do you do? Logan Mountstuart. - Reinhardt.

Actually, it would be better if you go now.

Yeah, I'll come with you. Next week's issue is ready.

All right.

Very good to meet you.

Ah, Brownwell, I need a hundred more copies.

You know where they are. Do I physically fucking have to hand them to you?

Are you a child?

Sorry, sorry. It was a kind of rhetorical statement.

I was explaining my presence.

What's happening, Brownwell? I thought there was an atmosphere.

It's John. It's the Stammheim verdict.

He just shouts and rages. He's being absolutely vile and hateful.

- Stammheim? - It's the trials in West Germany.

Andreas, Gudrun and Jan-Carl. 25 years in prison, each one.

Andreas and Gudrun, 25 years.

Quarter of a century, eh? A long time.

It's disgusting. We have to do something.

Mind if I just use the loo?

- Uh, Mountstuart. - Yes?

Please don't tell John I was crying.

Absolutely not. No, no. Of course not. No.

- Beg your pardon. - Oh, hi, Mountstuart.

Oh, keep clear of John. He's in a filthy mood.

- I heard. I'll wait outside. - Oh, don't worry. I'm nearly finished.

What's your first name, Mountstuart?

Logan. What's yours?

Hannah. Brownwell is Tina.

Why can't we call each other by our first names?

Brownwell, Roth, it's all very public school.

Yeah. John says it's good for discipline.

What's John's first name?

Well, that is his first name.

He's John Vivian.

And obviously he doesn't want us to call him Vivian.

Obviously.

Look, Hannah, the thing is...

The loo, I'm rather desperate.

Yeah, don't mind me. On you go.

Right.

It's a natural human activity, Logan. Don't be so bourgeois.

Where are the others?

Delicate matter.

Everything's gone a bit ape shit back at the house.

Oh, yes? Whither neo-anarchism?

No, actually.

Been sleeping with Roth.

Oh, well. It's a form of solidarity, I suppose.

Except I'm married to Brownwell.

She's not particularly pleased.

Right.

- So, she went all bourgeois on you, did she? - Yeah.

Yeah, blood on the walls.

And they've both

resigned from the SPK. Cleared off, too.

- Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. - Yeah, so...

What do you think about what's going on in Germany?

The Red Army faction? Madness.

Kidnappings, killings, bombs, violence isn't going to change anything.

Wrong, wrong. It's not violence. It's counter-violence. Big difference.

Semantics.

When I was at Cambridge, I was held in a jail for 48 hours,

because I'd taken part in a lawful, peaceful demonstration. Yeah?

That's when I saw the light.

I expect you've never seen the inside of a prison cell, have you, Mountstuart?

I have, actually, in Switzerland.

In the war, I was captured and spent over a year in solitary confinement.

Bloody hell. Right.

One year, solitary?

Yeah, well, I look at you with new eyes, Mountstuart.

- Don't rush to judgement, John. - Yeah, yeah, well.

Do you like travelling?

Depends where I'm going.

If I gave you 100 quid,

would you go on a little trip abroad for me?

Abroad?

What's this all about?

It's about £100.

This is what you give to your contact.

He'll give you something to bring back to me.

- How will I know him? - I'll tell you in good time.

Now, when you call, the code word is "Mogadishu."

You say the word, I repeat it. We know the call is secure.

Mogadishu, a town in Somalia.

Indulge me. It's just a word. It's plucked from the air.

This, this is for you.

This is only 50. You said a 100.

Yeah, half now, half when you come back with the package.

I want it all. I'm only doing this for the money.

- Otherwise I'm not going. - Yeah.

This doesn't say much about your sense of solidarity, Mountstuart, does it?

It doesn't say much about your sense of a business transaction.

You promised £100. A deal is a deal.

Yeah.

Well, you have your instructions. You call me tomorrow

only from a public phone booth, remember?

Good luck to you too.

That's right, son, you've got it.

It's just luck in the end.

That's all life is.

- Hello. - Mogadishu.

What?

- Logan? - Mogadishu.

Yeah. Mogadishu. Mogadishu. Mogadishu.

Don't institute a security procedure if you're going to abandon it immediately.

All right. All right.

Right. You go to the kiosk in the small park.

It's near the bus station, okay. You got that? It's the cafeteria thing.

Okay, 4:00 in the afternoon. Your contact knows the password.

Kiosk, at 4:00. Is that all?

Yeah. Yeah, just be there, Mountstuart.

You're welcome.

- Mogadishu. - Oh! Mogadishu.

See, I tell you, I don't fucking believe this.

We are waiting in this fucking café for two days. Where are you?

I only received my instructions today.

- I'm Petra. - And I'm Birgit. No.

Ingeborg.

Why are you so old?

Is there no young people in London?

An old guy like this, no one thinks anything.

- You have the delivery? - Yes.

You have to go to Zurich. Hotel Hoch Garten.

Zurich?

All right.

Do you mind if I make a quick phone call?

- Hello. - Mogadishu.

Yeah, cut the crap, Mountstuart. Have you met the contact?

- Yes. - Well, what did he say?

It's not a "he". It's a couple of girls, that's why I phoned.

Girls? Fuck! What did they say?

They say I have to go to Zurich.

Okay, that sounds right.

- So they are the contact? - Well, obviously, yes.

Get a grip, Mountstuart. Call me from Zurich.

- About this trip to Zurich... - Yes, we're coming with you.

No, no, no. There's no need.

- We have guns. - I have one too.

- You have one? - No, I'm unarmed.

We are your bodyguards.

So, we all go on a trip to Switzerland together.

- So, do you have money, Logan? - No.

- Well, not much. - Switzerland is expensive, Logan.

I know it's expensive. I was there in the war.

What war?

The Second World War.

You're a very old man, Logan.

I do feel old today, oddly.

If you don't pay for us, Logan, we have to rob a bank.

I'll pay, I'll pay. Put it away.

Bang, bang. I kill you, Logan.

They're fucking psychopaths. They've got guns, for God's sake.

Well, dump them.

Forge on alone, Mountstuart. Use your initiative.

But how will I meet the contact?

Okay, good point. Yes.

Well, dump them as soon as they tell you the contact.

Yeah, yeah. Well, thanks so much, John. Mogadishu.

You can sleep in the bed with us, Logan.

No, thanks. Chair will be fine.

Do you know how I'm going to meet the contact?

Oh, don't worry. He will find you tomorrow.

- He knows you're here. - Does he?

- Mmm. - Fine.

So, I think we go to bed now.

Please wait outside.

Oh, yes of course.

You can come in now, Logan.

Do you want some Mary Jane, Logan?

No, thanks. I don't.

Fuck! Logan, you've got to have some fun in your life.

I agree. I love fun. I'm a fun-loving guy.

I'm having fun now. May I?

What are you saying?

We are saying maybe we shoot you and take your money.

Most amusing.

Oh, don't worry, Logan.

- We like you. - We love you, Logan.

Come to bed, you sexy man.

Good night.

It's been real.

Goodbye, girls.

Good luck.

Yes, I'm dumping them.

I'm going to meet the contact, then I'm heading home.

- Excellent. Right. After that... - One other thing. I resign.

- What do you mean, resign? - I resign from the SPK.

I resign from working circle communication.

That's it. Finito. You're on your own.

Melodramatic nonsense, Mountstuart.

You complete your mission. I'll see you when you get back.

Mogadishu.

Hey!

- Mogadishu? - Mogadishu.

Why the fuck are these girls with you? Are you crazy?

It wasn't my idea, believe me.

You have something for me?

Wait in there. Ten minutes.

Good luck.

- Tell John that we are ready. - Will do.

Guten Tag!

- Ist alles in Ordnung? - Ja, ist gut.

Ich spreche keine Deutsch.

Wo ist... the railway station?

- The Bahnhof. - Ach, der Banhof, ja.

You take this road, you turn left,

go straight, and it's 400 metres.

- Ah! Danke schön. Danke. - Bitte.

Mogadishu, eh?

- Sheer coincidence. - I'm not a fool.

This was all part of some stupid, crazy plot,

to try and free the Baader-Meinhof gang, wasn't it?

Don't know what the fuck you're talking about.

- What were you buying? - Nothing to do with you.

- You gave him all the money? - Yes.

Fucking useless Swiss bastard.

Wasn't explosives, was it?

You weren't sending me to fucking Switzerland to buy a case full of explosives,

- were you by any chance? - Will you keep your fucking voice down?

Have you any idea what would have happened to me if I'd been caught?

You complete asshole!

You didn't need to know, Logan. You didn't need to know.

I'd have needed to know if I'd gone to prison for many, many years.

I've been in prison, you wanker. I know what it's like!

You were playing with my freedom. With my life.

If life is all about luck, then is mine running out?

I no longer recognise the world I am living in.

What's happening to its people? I don't like them any more.

The spirit of the place isn't working.

Is there no place for a man who doesn't want to grow old gracefully?

Cinq Cyprès, you promise me that you won't sell it.

You never know when you might need it.

Ladies and gentlemen,

I presume this is to enable us to sweep Britain clean of socialism...

This is absolutely the best way.

A sale between two friends. No commission.

It's time for me to go,

but it makes me very happy to think of you and your family living here.

To have the whole house, freehold, for my family is wonderful.

But don't leave before the election.

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie.

Absolutely. I'll set things in motion.

We have very considerable grounds for cautious optimism...

The Conservatives just the edge on that, 255...

Good afternoon, Prime Minister.

Mrs Thatcher. Mrs Thatcher. Mrs Thatcher. Can I just ask...

Et voilà, les Cinq Cyprès.

Gosh!

Goodness me!

Cyprien said to me, "One day, Monsieur Mountstuart comes."

So I keep the key for years, and now, here you are.

Merci.

If you need anything, call me. I live up the road.

Merci beaucoup.

Thank you very much.

An elderly man of letters, met one evening in Paris, in 1928,

ends up helping another elderly man of letters, 50 years later.

Such is life.

And I would just like to remember some words of St Francis of Assisi,

which I think are particularly apt at the moment.

Where there is discord, may we bring harmony.

Where there is error, may we bring truth.

Where there is doubt, may we bring faith.

And where there is despair, may we bring hope.

Bowser!

Bowser, come here, boy!

It's exactly six months since I moved to Cinq Cyprès.

I'm at ease, content... Ready to take life on again.

And I finally have a title for my novel. Octet.

So, no excuse not to write it.

But one mustn't abandon life's other compensations.

- Ah, Monsieur Mountstuart, bonjour. - Bonjour.

- Alors, ce roman, ça avance? - Ça marche, ça marche.

- Belle journée, n'est-ce pas? - Oui, ça va.

C'était formidable Séverine, comme d'habitude.

Tout le plaisir est pour moi, Logan. On se revoit le mois prochain?

Oh, oui! Bien sûr. C'est bien possible.

Logan?

Logan, qu'est-ce que tu fais?

Oh, mon Dieu, Logan! Logan!

Tu m'entends? Tu m'entends, Logan!

Oh, mon chéri, regarde moi. Regarde moi.

Logan! Logan!

Logan?

Logan.

Logan!

It's just a pump, you know.

It's a piece of machinery, but it is not allowed to stop.

It has to keep on going year after year and decade after decade.

Minor heart attack, you say.

It felt pretty major to me.

Well, your heart is getting old. Look at your face in the mirror.

It is not the face you had when you were 15 or 35 or 50.

Look at the lines, the creases, the loss of elasticity.

It is still your face, but it is showing the signs of a long life.

Imagine what has happened to your face, has happened to your heart.

"Never say you know the last word about any human heart."

Excuse me?

Just a quote from another elderly writer.

I give you a few pills and you take it easy.

Your old pump should go on functioning for many more years.

What if I'd died in that flat with the lovely Séverine?

Not a bad way to go, I suppose.

But is this the end of my sexual life?

What do you think, Bowser?

Huh?

Too dangerous?

Or is there life in this old dog, yet, hmm?

Pour un jeune homme comme moi, à l'époque, c'était...

ces poèmes étaient une espèce de rêve idéal.

- Le Maquis. - Résistants.

Was there a lot of resistance around Sainte Sabine?

Yeah, like everywhere, but it was not a good ending here.

What happened? The Germans? The reprisal?

Ah, it's a long story. One day I tell you, Logan.

So who bought the house?

It's a woman from Paris. Madame Dupetit. Very rich and a divorcée.

Madame Dupetit? A rich divorcée?

How old?

Too young for you and me, Logan.

Speak for yourself, Lucien.

- Bonjour. - Bonjour.

Vous êtes Monsieur Mountstuart?

What?

Ah, oui, oui. C'est moi.

Je suis Gabrielle Dupetit, votre nouvelle voisine.

Ah.

Je peux vous raccompagner chez vous si vous voulez.

Merci. Bien sûr, madame.

So, in fact I was born in La Sapiniere.

Ah!

My father was obliged to sell the house in 1948 for reasons of ill health.

He went to live abroad for some years. He needed the sun.

And the family moved to Paris.

How amazing.

And so when I was informed that it was in the market,

I bought it immediately.

And you are my nearest neighbour.

Logan Mountstuart.

l'écrivain.

They all talk about you.

Hmm.

Yes, well, I'm working on my new novel, but it's going very slowly.

Ah! You must come over to La Sapiniere for supper and tell me all about it. Hmm?

I'd love to.

So, Monsieur Dupetit is a thing of the past?

We divorced five years ago.

You must call me Gabrielle, Logan, now we have met properly.

Thank you, Gabrielle.

I can't help noticing how you stare at me so intently.

Forgive me.

It's just that you remind me very much of someone.

Oh! Who is she?

She died a long time ago.

I'm sorry, you were saying?

Come, I have something to show you.

"To the memory of Benoit Verdel, called 'Raoul'.

"Commander of the Resistance Group, 'Renard',

"who liberated Sainte Sabine..."

Ah! "Who liberated Sainte Sabine from the German yoke."

That's my father.

Ah, oui?

I think she's extremely nice.

Charmante.

There's something about her that is very intriguing.

Have you seen what she put on her wall?

Échec.

The little plaque to her father. Yes, it's very touching, I thought.

She has an extraordinary bond with this place.

Very strong childhood memories.

It's always better to ask permission before you put something like that up.

Échec.

It's her wall, isn't it?

Échec et mat.

Bugger!

Peter!

Oh! God!

Logan, what is it? What's happened?

You knew him?

He was my oldest friend.

Impossible man.

He died in the Falkland Islands, researching a new book.

Pure Peter.

He could never resist a passing bandwagon.

Oh, Logan. I'm so sorry.

Logan!

- Hurry up, Logan. - The pub's closing, come on. Come on!

Last one buys the first round. Mine's a large malt whisky, Logan.

It was only after my father had died, that I knew of his past in la Résistance.

He never talked about it.

Why wouldn't he talk about it?

You have to understand that in '44...

Well, in order to fight the Germans you often had to fight some Frenchmen too.

- Of course. - So I understand why he kept silent.

Therefore, I put up my little, discreet monument

as a private homage to his memory.

Ça va?

Here's to Benoit Verdel.

I feel very well. Full of energy.

My advice is to be prudent. Be prudent in everything.

What about sex?

Well, you know what happened last time.

I don't think sex had anything to do with it. I was dressed, spent, standing up.

What I mean is, can I? Or would I be endangering myself?

You are the best judge. Listen to your heart, your body.

If something makes you happy, it cannot be too bad for you, I always say.

Write a great work, one that will make people think

and may change the world.

Then you must write a novel immediately.

One that will gain you more than eight readers.

You're a writer, Logan. That's what makes you so different.

You should write a teccie, Logan.

Use your imagination. Isn't that what novelists are meant to do?

Mountstuart.

Oh, Gabrielle! Hello.

Yes, of course.

Of course I will, straight away. Yes.

Bye.

What do they mean, a "lie"?

Les salauds.

We'll have to replace it.

We can't let them win. Simple.

Merci.

Thank you, Logan.

Thank you.

Suddenly, I feel a sense of purpose. I feel alive.

We've put a new plaque up, made of lead. It'll last for centuries.

Oh! Wow!

We will never surrender.

Oh!

Here's a thought.

Our death, the end of our individual journey, represents our final bit of bad luck in life.

But maybe, as that moment draws near,

the good luck increases by way of compensation.

Look at all my new good luck.

Gabrielle arrives and every time I see her, I feel lucky.

There's nothing for it.

We need to take drastic action.

But it's not good for your health, Logan.

I think I'm going to go to the gendarmes in Villeneuve.

No! The gendarmes aren't going to waste their time staking out your wall!

Look, I'm going to catch this bastard, whoever he is.

Freya...

I'm not Freya!

You're a good man, Logan Mountstuart.

Ne bougez pas! Ne bougez pas!

Espèces de cons!

My God!

Lucien! Docteur!

Look what you made me do, sitting out in those bloody woods night after night.

James Bond...

It was an evil symbol, that plaque.

So we felt we had to reply in a symbolic way.

Madame Dupetit's father killed my grandfather in cold blood.

He killed the father of Lucien.

- He was a hero. He liberated the town. - Non, non.

That's Madame Dupetit's private fantasy.

I can show you all the documentation.

Verdel was a gangster from Marseille.

During the confusion of the Liberation of '44 he moved into Sainte Sabine

and he took it over.

Made it his personal territory that he ran for two years.

Extortion, prostitution, black market. Everything.

My father did not murder three men.

They say he shot them in the town square as collaborators.

What was his motive? He was a resistant.

No, he wasn't. He was a gangster.

In 1947, he was arrested and tried. He went to prison for eight years.

You weren't to know, Gabrielle.

It's lies. All lies.

I know it's a terrible shock, but you can't know everything.

It's impossible.

About your past, your family, even yourself.

An old friend said this to me once.

"It's what you're going to do that's exciting.

"The road ahead that's important, not the view back."

You really are an old fool, aren't you, Logan?

You don't understand anything.

Vieil idiot.

No, you're the one that doesn't understand.

Maybe you will, one day.

When you're as old as me.

Here boy. Bowser, Bowser!

Come here, boy. Come on.

Come on, misery. Hey!

Morning, Bowser.

Oh, you lazy old bugger, get up. What's the matter with you?

Sometimes, I wonder if it was another piece of bad luck

to be born at the beginning of this century,

and not at its end.

Especially when I look at these kids.

Looking at the lives they're living, the lives they'll lead.

All the different people they're going to be.

- Monsieur, vous avez l'heure? - Quoi? Comment?

Quelle heure il est, s'il vous plait?

Ah, euh, six heures et quart.

- Ah, merci bien. - Pas de problème.

The time.

She makes me think of my own life, that beauty.

Who will she be in 10 years, or 20, or 30?

It's a long journey, and nothing stays the same.

The dice are being rolled for each one of you.

I wish you luck.

And I hope there's more good luck than bad.

Logan...

Logan...

Logan darling.

I loved you so much.

We were very, very lucky.