Original subtitles

It stinks. It stinks everywhere in the city, everywhere I am.

It's a funny coincidence.

I have nothing else to do but scribble here in... my book.

Well, "book"... More like a bunchof stuf I'd like to dedicate to:

my brother... Vincent

You've nothing to do.

I don't give a shit, I'm not begging anymore.

I'm not motivated. Do it without me this time.

Trust me... OK.

Talk to you later.

Apparently, my name is Anna.

Apparently, I'm a "writer"

because I spend my days shitting all I see on my papers.

What I see and... what makes me mad.

Writing is like short circuits in my head.

What?

- Want a ride? - I'm OK.

So smile. 2nd best thing a woman can do with her mouth!

- You're crazy! - Come on, go!

Fuck you!

My brother says it's tragicbecause I write more than I speak.

Vincent...

That's the problem with finding someonetoo beautiful too long.

We end up destroying them.

Because beauty is unbearable over time.

Vinz should have been born in the 50s.

In his head, things happen like the old Brando films.

Like the biker or the tough guy on the boat...

Hey! So, good haul? Did you get anything nice?

- Hey, I have to go. - Wait, I gotta count it.

Need a hand?

It's a bit thin for a cut.

Well... the economy!

Gotta give more to continue operating here.

You'll get more next time. - The house can't give credit anymore.

"Well... the economy!"

No pockets in my coat.

Micky Professional crook

I come with my hook, man. I knock him out right then and there.

- Bullshit. - It's called jazzing. Look.

Only Mirko buys into the cartoon my brother's turned into.

Thanks, boys!

The only one who loves him as much as I do.

- Find what I asked you for? - Yes, mom, don't stress!

In the trunk.

- This?! - Well, what?

Caddy, dude!

The point is to not get noticed. - Get in.

No matter what Vinz or the others say, I'm not a writer.

Stories piss me off, there's always an ending.

It's disheartening when I love characters who die.

There's always something else to tell!

Putting their stories to death with periods.

Writers...

The worst assassins.

Come on, come on!

Fuck you!

Speaking of assassins,

I'd have killed the pope if asked to, just to avoid doing this job.

Put them there.

But nothing I could have said to Cindywould have worked.

A double! Oh, and a slush,

the blue one!

I'm closing. - And a glass of milk for my friend.

For her, danger equals fun...

Real fun.

Worse, she always ends up following the boys.

I'm the only one here who has no balls.

Girls, it's time now.

What the fuck?

That's right. You weren't warned. - Yes, you weren't warned.

Good night!

It's carnival, dammit!

- Take this. - Thank you.

What's going on?

Oh, that? This is a "carnage".

Though "hold-up" also works.

Anna, take this.

- I'm gonna call Mirko! - Yes!

Tabarnak, come here!

Mirko!

Come on, we're getting thrashed.

You're going to die, fucker!

Come on, dammit!

Come on! You're going to d...

Calm down, amigo.

Tabarnak. Go to hell.

Hurry, Vinz, c'mon.

Let's go! Hurry up, man!

Oh, my god!

What just happened?

What happened is that we're filthy rich!

Yo, who was the fucking grizzly? - The owner.

He had a big crush on you. Never let you out of his sight!

Shit, I'll fasten my seat belt.

Holy shit!

Fuck! Fuck!

My brother lives by a pact of absolute anarchy.

A pact he created himself, which he uses

to hold the four of us together.

To me, the holiness of his revolution

is just a cover for hitting up all the cheap spots

in town.

Yeah. For Vincent, this is the very essence of our triumph

over what you call "society."

Fuck.

The Sex Pistols of modern anarchy!

- Where d'you find the gun? - Anna, shit.

Yo, Cin. You get any cigarettes? - I got much better, look.

Get it out!

Fuck! Get it out of here!

Is she serious?!

You're making sure we get busted!

Fuck, it smells like shit.

I always loved Vincent too much.

Like, at an atomic level.

I prayed to leave an impression on himthat'd burn the skin.

To stick to him, and never lose him.

For him, I acted like a real warrior,

ready to follow my hero intoall the fucking trenches of the city.

The two of us, perfect fusion.

We were fucking pretentious.

That's cool when you're a teenager.

Now, treating me like his voodoo dollgives him a purpose, I guess.

But I don't have any goddamn purpose.

If we sold that, we could afford a trip.

Where to?

Like... fucking far away, like on an island!

Why an island?

So Vinz and I can marry on a big boat! - No chance.

Cindy plus pina colada equals a shit show!

C'mon! It's my dream. That would be hot and sexy.

Alright, keep dreaming.

You're jealous! You have no dreams.

I'll get married to you.

OK, guys, If my math is right...

It's worth $100,000.

So...

A boat?

No.

An opportunity.

An opportunity!

Excuse me, we are looking for opportunities.

Yes, I have a lot of cocaine and I am an entrepreneur.

Have you seen my opportunity, Mr. Mirko?

- Yes, give me some. - Oh, dammit!

Does these work?

If I could just light one...

Come on, Cin!

Can't you be serious for two seconds? - I confirm this shit is fucking great!

I would burn everything.

We sell it, and with the cash, we step up our game.

We buy other guns, grow our crew.

And we hit even harder next time.

Bad ass! - We go after those with serious cash.

That's the only thingthat could stop Vinz's delusions.

We get bigger, get the means to assert ourselves.

We kidnap people, take them hostage, torture them...

I'm talking about meaning. If not, what's our purpose?

Isn't that what you always write about? - OK, Castro!

We do jobs to survive, not to be guerrillas and change the world.

No future in the world! Gotta invest elsewhere.

OK, so...

an island and a boat, that's a stretch,

but commandos, guerrillas, and guns, that's credible?

What's with you and boats? - I have expensive tastes now I'm rich!

- We're not that rich. - Don't touch that.

We gotta give half the cash to Micky.

Forget Micky. It's our cash.

Finish writing your revolution. We'll revise it later.

Think you're above that?

The day you do something useful, then you'll speak.

- I'm thirsty. - What do you want?

Fuck off, you

What's up?

Didn't you sleep?

Wanna spend the day, just us?

Are you trying to date me?

100%!

Nice!

I have an idea, I'll take you shopping.

You're overdue.

We have to move because it's already 2:00.

Never too late to start the day on the right foot!

That means seeing Zhao 'cause I'm not getting out of here alive.

Shit.

Hey, Danny boy! How are you?

- Whose is this? - Take it.

Isn't my hat nice?

- Fancy. - New.

Zhao, baby!

Forget it, I'm sold out.

A bit of pharmacy to calm me down!

Did you manage to leave your sect?

Yeah. We're leaving the boy band to start a solo career.

Attaboy!

You serial killer!

- Fuck off, man. - Don't tell me to relax.

I'm not paying for such a small piece. Where's your boss?

Go! I want to see him there.

You don't need me for that.

They beat me up... they picked up the bag.

Cin! Come on, let's move.

Oh, shit.

What's going on?

Girls, stay. We're starting to have fun!

OK, bye, baby!

Ah, fuck...

Fucker!

Oh, my God! I jumped.

- They didn't follow us? - I don't think so.

What were they doing?

Fuck. I don't have my notebook!

- Buy another. - I can't.

Maybe it fell...

We won't get killed for poems, even beautiful ones.

- Are you sure? - Yes.

- You say he was with Micky? - Yeah.

- It was the bowling alley dude? - Yes!

- They recognize you? - I don't know!

- They follow you? - No!

We ran off into the alleys.

Vinz?

OK, what's the deal?

Zhao told us a rumor...

Micky uses random spots downtown to hide dope in transit.

We thought it was bullshit, like what Zhao always says...

Are you kidding me?

Hey, you're a bunch of bastards!

Stealing from the boss on his territory! We'll get caught!

- You didn't tell us! - You would've said no.

Sure, that's the worst idea! Only idiots would do that!

We're talking about 100,000.

You're serious? We're doing this?

- I'm out. - Wait.

You don't go anywhere.

No time to panic. You saw the owner. Maybe he didn't make the connection.

If we meet him again, there'll be other options.

You're fucking delusional!

Fuck!

Vinz, just... let her go.

Fuck!

I know you're spying on me.

You're cute when you're mad.

Remember the time we left the center?

When we joined your brother here?

Wow, nostalgic tonight.

What?! Get off my back.

It's been so long, but at the same time, no.

We went over it a thousand times.

All the sleeping pills in her coffee... - Mrs. Bouboule!

Maybe the old cow never woke up!

Remember? You invented characters for us for when we got out.

Yeah, damn! I was...

Bonnie Parker!

You were fuckin' Agota Christophe. - Agatha Christie.

Whatever! I was a real terrorist...

with guns. You were like...

"I wrote 8 bestsellers, all made into movies."

How we failed...

I still believe in that dream.

But it seems like your dream has become your brother's.

You know...

You can't always let him decide for you or cry that life is against you.

You're more of a bad bitch than that.

Here.

Think of me when you light your fuse.

- Over easy? - Scrambled, man.

Don't burn 'em like last time.

Cindy has never spoken to anyone like that.

With her heart, you know.

- Easy on the ketchup. - It's anti-cancer.

We need to talk without the boys.

Maybe there's a way to work things out.

Oh fuck, it's all melted.

I didn't wanna play hide and seek.

Damn, where is she?

Anna!

Know what I like most about the restaurant?

It's a kind of no man's land where everything is easy going.

People laugh, drink, eat, have fun...

They don't realize I hear everything. - Cut it short.

Your little stunt has made you quite popular.

What stunt? - No, not you, don't do that to me.

You're smarter than that.

I like you, Anna, you're cool.

But your friends...

What do you want from me?

Look, you're safe for now, I've bought you some time, but...

Micky, in general, isn't very patient.

Here. One of my regulars found that notebook you carry around.

Why didn't he leave it with you?

I wish my brother would realize our shady dealings

didn't make me angry.

I wanted to convince him we're worth something

and that we can live differently!

The more I tried, the less I was part of the family.

But what's the point of being alone?

Alone and apart from the one who loves you.

Why destroy the onewho has always loved you too much?

Come in.

No, the board doesn't agree.

And I won't reconsider my decision.

Yes, let me know.

We'll talk about it again. Goodbye.

Forgive me.

I'm here for my notebook.

You're the one hiding behind that pen? Great.

Forgive my intrusion. I couldn't resist reading it.

The way you narrate your episodes...

is frankly astonishing.

My episodes?

Yes, I mean your diary.

"When we find someone too beautiful too long,

we end up destroying them..." I loved that.

Can I just get that back?

Yes, of course.

There's a strong sense of authenticity.

I haven't read anything that angry in a long time.

Philippe Albert.

Lecturer in the French literature department...

here at the university.

You have more talent than you realize.

You don't know me.

Or what I think of my talent.

If you feel like it, I'd be delighted to help you.

Help me do what?

Completing what could become a powerful novel.

I don't need your pity.

Do you think I need to be saved? - No.

To be read.

Both are unreliable.

Stop it, man.

The girls aren't the problem, it's us.

I'm the problem! I always back you up.

You think we're the problem?

I should've said to you: "It's a bad plan."

Shut up! - I have a bad feeling about this.

Shit, we're so stupid. But I got your back forever, man.

Shut up! I can't hear myself think.

Fuck! Come on, are you crazy?

- Where were you? - Chill!

- What's going on? - Cindy's not with you?

- No. - Where is she?

I didn't see her this morning.

I went for my notebook, it was found.

Couldn't it wait?

All this for a worthless notebook.

You know what's worth anything.

Even if it had value, was it urgent? No time to think of yourself!

Shit. I go home at night and get a gun in the face. It's fun our life!

It's OK. We know you want to leave.

I don't, but you're giving me good reason to.

Well, go! If you think your crappy scrapbook will keep you fed...

Sure, better to wallow in filth than try to be someone.

Be someone? In whose eyes? Am I not giving you enough?

You give me nothing!

The problem's in your head.

I don't care about your anarcho-fanatical whims!

Guys! The coke's gone.

- What? - I've looked everywhere!

It's not fucking there.

Holy shit!

OK, OK...

I saw Zhao this morning in the alley. He said weird shit. Maybe it's related.

We can't stay. Cindy could be in trouble! Let's scram.

We find the dope. Mirko, get your stuff.

Forget it, let's find Cin!

Zhao first. We'll make him talk!

Are you crazy?

Fuck the dope!

You're becoming just like Dad.

You want to leave?

You'll soon see, outside here, you're worthless.

You'll never be worth a damn!

Vinz, stop!

Are you OK?

Fuck off, there's nothing here!

Are you alright, Anna? Are you ok?

In the kitchen.

Relax.

Relax.

Anna, damn!

Keep up!

Go!

Faster!

What are you doing?

365 days later. An exile, a mentor, a scholarship, a novel in progress

The embodiment of my dream. Holy shit. This wasn't the plan.

We had lots of time to tell each other

beautiful things we would've saved for later.

The number of times you ask me for help,

I'm starting to think you're not a good director.

You're sexy when you doubt me.

So you don't deny it.

Well, it still takes time to establish a signature.

That wasn't a real question.

Last time, we discussed the criteria

of Quebec post-modernism.

High treason.

In some parts of the world, that's a life sentence.

I quote Patterson:

"In the Quebec context, it's hard to avoid critical discourse..."

Even if I escaped,

that's what happened.

"...which, by privileging certain issues

and excluding others, contribute to defining

the parameters of literary postmodernism."

I invite you to continue reading on page 25.

I think one of the main characteristicsof my exile is my solitude.

Even in my own book, it feels like I'm the only character,

despite always being surrounded.

By hiding and living like a fugitive,

I'm thinking I might finally shake offthe old Anna for good,

forget that I'm still wanted for high treason

somewhere in the underworld of the city...

by my former hero.

Nobody knows me here.

Nobody knows my past.

I pretend to know the worldf Simone and Paul, my two models.

It helps me get accepted.

Wow! If it's your way of torturing me, you've nailed it.

God! At some point, we understand.

You were rejected by the hot guy, your life's shit, but let's move on.

No empathy for broken hearts?

She'll have to get used to it.

You seen how she looks? She should make an effort!

That's not it! It's just that her writing is so childish.

Unbearable. Totally unbearable.

Coming from a teen writer, I'd show restraint.

- Not teens - adulescents. - Oh, wow, excuse me!

Stop, it's true!

The nuance is super important.

I must speak my readers' language and follow issues that revolt them.

What issues?

Well... injustice.

The injustices in all their forms in society

how gender equality isn't achieved and will never be if we go on like this.

And... And how we perceive the body of an aging woman in society.

- Revolting. - Wow!

Is that your pitch for Céline tomorrow?

You're too stupid. Céline will understand the full depth of my thinking.

Cocktail parties at Céline's aren't just parties.

They are fucking battlefields.

Who'll be Céline's new protégé?

All is fair, the hunt is on.

She's that much of a big shot?

What rock were you under?

Editions Vignac is the most fashionable publishing house.

You want to be invited.

A new flower,

but always the same fucking roots.

Philippe thinks I can deliver a novel.

Strange feeling.

It's been about 365 daysthat we've been seriously working

on this story.

365 days that my new mentorpushes me, reads me, dissects me.

It's been 365 daysthat we just find shit in my insides.

It's just with Clem I don't pretend.

I listen to him talk about his films,

the ones he wants to direct, the operas he wants to do,

the actors he wants to work with.

I should have the courage to share my ambitions too.

That's what people who love each other do.

They share stuff.

I can't do it.

This is going to be brief. 2 or 3 glasses and I'll take off.

I'm not sure I get the concept of the evening.

Well, me neither.

Well!

The artist leaves his den!

Hey, you fools!

Is your film finished?

If it were just me, there'd still be a lot to rework.

- I can't wait. - Letting go, they say.

What will it be like?

Well, narratively, it's different.

The whole structure is built on surreal,

very fauve, fauvist overtones.

Fauve?

- How do I look? - Great!

- Haven't you seen Céline yet? - Are you kidding me?

She's in deep conversation with your darling.

You didn't say they knew each other so well.

I didn't even know he'd be here.

Right.

Céline, meet...

I couldn't help but catch what you said. I find it fascinating.

What do you mean by old recipe?

The brand.

Oh, yes, completely. So, marketing?

I want us to devour the authors,

to highlight the excitement, the danger.

A different expression... of tone,

the play of colors...

I identify with that. My adolescent literature

is aimed at readers attracted...

Anna?

Delighted. - A friend who wants the best for you.

Tell me everything. Is what Philippe told me true?

It depends on what Philippe told you about me.

Well, your story, the work you have in your hands!

I hear it's impactful.

It's in progress, it's...

More than in progress. I've never seen Philippe so enthusiastic.

I'm looking forward to your pages.

Yes, OK, OK.

- With pleasure. - A dream.

Last Tango in Paris, exquisite.

Anna Karina.

Maria Casarès.

- Philippe, always a pleasure. - Always.

Congratulations on the event.

What just happened?

I thought another opinion would convince you your work is relevant.

- It's not finished! - She's a former colleague.

I simply let her know

that she should take an interest in you.

Do you grant me permission to send her your manuscript?

I trust you.

There you go!

Debussy? Clair de Lune?

There's a piano over there.

- I'll be right back. - OK!

I missed you, little sister.

Well done, Anna! Well planned!

Using me to get invited to big events and plug a book you never mentioned!

- It's not... - You're a psychopath.

I have never been so humiliated in my life.

- No time... - Am I wasting your time?

You didn't waste my time with the illusion of our friendship?

But you had time to write a book in secret. No problem.

Where did you go yesterday?

You disappeared without a word.

I got sick, I didn't want to ruin your night.

OK, see you tonight?

Yeah.

I have nothing to tell you!

What? I...

I don't have it.

I don't know where it is. It's not me who...

You're talking to the wrong fucking person.

Let go of me, dammit!

I don't have any cash!

If I did, do you think I would have stayed here?

Do you think this would be my life?

OK, OK, I'll find a solution.

Just give me some time.

Anna?

I apologize.

I don't know why I'm calling.

Where are you?

Why did you read me?

Anna, what's happening?

Why me when you could have helped anyone else?

I didn't choose you, Anna.

You did.

Let's say I never finish my book.

Let's say...

it stays just messy like that...

Will you blame me for wasting your time?

Do you feel like you wasted time, Anna?

If you think so, well...

Leave. Run.

Find him.

There's always time for thosewho have the courage to turn back.

Listen to me, birdbrain, it's not hard.

Shanghai noodles are from Shanghai, Singapore noodles from Singapore! Fuck!

I'll change that thing for a ball curtain.

Hi, Zhao!

Ah, what a nice visit.

A ghost, shit!

Is Micky here?

- Finished hide and seek? - I asked you a question.

Why?

That's between him and me.

Well, it's going through me now.

OK. You've become big!

Employee of the month? No photo on the wall.

I'll come back. Say I'm looking for him.

Tell him to come through the alley.

I don't know why I'm here.

Go inside.

- You have no balls! - Anna...

I thought you had moved.

How can you still be working for them?

Not here. Let's go inside.

What did you do with the dope?

- OK, spill the beans. - OK.

I don't think the drugs ever left.

I think you hid it till you decided who to sell it to.

And we got caught before.

And Mirko and Cindy paid for that.

That's some theory.

So, I've worked for Micky for a year, to pay off an eternal debt.

I've almost become his slave, with a treasure hidden somewhere, right?

- You tell me. - OK, my turn now.

I've spent a year wondering how you could backstab me.

- What? - Let me finish!

What did Cindy say to make you go with her and the drugs?

Don't say I'm involved in that shit!

I never saw Cin again!

What happened to her?

A bullet in the head too?

Oh, damn.

What?

We got screwed really badly.

What're you talking about?

I confirm Micky did not kill Cindy.

So, you and I don't have the drugs...

It's impossible.

Cindy wouldn't have done that.

Who's delusional now?

I still don't get why you work for Micky after what he did.

I worked for him, so he wasn't looking for you.

I never abandoned you.

Anna! Céline Vignac. I would like to talk to you.

My husband works late, so wed have the evening to ourselves.

I'll text you the address.

Hello.

The enfant terrible!

Thanks for accepting my invitation.

I couldn't see myself refusing it.

I'm sincerely delighted to see you again.

Have a seat.

Is it just the two of us?

It's perfect like that.

Whiskey, neat.

Same as your brother if I'm not mistaken?

You read my manuscript...

Indeed. I had the opportunity to meet you yesterday.

You're hurt, Anna.

Deeply.

It's reflected in your choice of words, your layout...

the way you present yourself.

You are vulnerable.

Lost, with no identity.

You search for yourself here, it's not your home.

For me, reading your work

is to follow you in your quest for identity.

I think that deep down, through all this,

you didn't want to tell a story, but to find who you are.

A delinquent who has no future...

A diminished sister...

A sophisticated student...

It's all so tragic. A circus.

Are you inherently the crude refugee you seem to be or...

the great writer who doesn't yet realize it?

What do you think?

What do you want through all this?

Why do you want to write so much?

Well...

To let it be known that I was here as well.

Well, that's what we'll do.

OK.

How?

How what?

Well...

I don't know, what's next?

The publication of your novel.

I don't think I'm ready for that.

We'll work to improve what you have.

You have a lot of potential, Anna.

I'm having a few colleagues over on Saturday.

All experts in their field.

It'll let you bounce around ideas and offer you an avenue

that will guarantee the success of your story.

What's wrong?

You haven't responded to my messages.

I don't wanna talk about it.

My film premiere is tomorrow.

And you just don't care.

You want me to open up to you?

It's funny.

For a few hours, the dream of writingdidn't exist anymore.

A year ago, I'd have done anythingto talk to such an important person.

Now I don't know anymore.

Here's something else too.

My fallen hero takes up too much space.

I don't knowwhy I can never write anything decent

without thinking of him, and the rage that surrounds us.

Why the fuck does violence sound so sweet to my ears?

Why does it make my heart pump too fast, too hard?

Why does it make me want to rip it out, take it all down?

Why does it stop me from breathingwhen I think of hi?

Of us?

What do you want?

To get through this, we gotta help each other.

Big flash.

OK, but you don't have any cash anywhere?

You can find a deal while we sort something out.

If I had deals, Anna...

I wouldn't be here.

What do I do now?

Wait for Micky to kill me?

You should just leave... while you still can.

You hate me, right?

Do you know what it's like,

to feel unworthy of the only person who means anything to you?

You're stoned, talking nonsense.

I'm not stupid!

I knew you wanted something other than the life I was building for us.

What I could give you?

For that reason, I crapped it all out.

Let your excuses go.

It won't bring Mirko back.

Fuck!

Do you think I don't know that?

Not a day goes by without me thinking of him.

What a fucking mistake...

stealing their dope...

I'll regret that decision forever.

I'll tell you one thing though...

One thing...

I did it for you.

Fuck.

It's all my fault, right? Is that what you're telling me?

I was losing you! Do you understand?

I could feel it.

You were distant...

always unpleasant...

You avoided me all the time.

As if I were the fucking reason you weren't...

you weren't happy.

I'm your brother.

That must still mean something, right?

I'm your brother. That must still mean something

Music creates words that cry out.

It gets me excited.

Its multiple vibrations can swallow me up...

overwhelm me.

From the tips of my arms, I would hurl explosions.

I'd explode.

The waves would be swallowed by a huge explosion.

But all that would be pointless.

It's the multiple shards of glass that finally...

Hey!

Better late than never.

Gotta say something important.

You know what? I don't feel like talking to you.

Where were you tonight?

It was my moment.

You knew it was important.

Leave me alone.

Wait!

Clément... Clément, please!

- C'mon, go away. - It's just...

What don't you get?

You know I adore you?

You know what? You opened my eyes.

- I owe you. - You owe me nothing.

It's true, look at you.

You're not like us...

You're different.

Special.

Nobody wants you here.

You're nothing but a fraud. And you always will be.

Are you crazy?

I forgot to breathe.

Instinct, is that you?

If it is, I don't need matches to blow it all up.

Let him go! I'll give you your cash.

What would it give you to kill us? What's a few more days after a year?

I think I have an idea.

Someone important is interested in publishing me.

Maybe I could ask for a cash advance?

Like, a lot?

There's no money to be made with books, but maybe if I play nice,

I might be able to get something...

to keep Micky calm while we figure out the rest.

Call me when you're done, I'll get you.

Céline, the nanny has arrived!

Oh, I'm not the nanny.

Just kidding, I know. No-one here is stupid enough to have children.

Dominique... delighted.

Anna.

Come, it's this way.

Then, I said: "Do you want the 5 bucks or not?"

Pierre-Frédéric, really. It's in bad taste.

My friends! A toast to Anna.

Oh, yeah.

My home is your home.

Think of tonight as a safe space, a place of trust

where we're all here to help you.

To you and your remarkable story.

Cheers!

Thank you so much for having me. It's nice of you.

What a story. Hard to believe you went through all that.

You must thank the heavens for catching Céline's eye!

It's a stroke of luck, yeah!

In any case, I loved it! I read it till 2am. I couldn't stop.

I asked everyone to arrive well-prepared.

In such a short time, I'm touched.

What wouldn't we do for Céline? - Ah, Rémi!

The question that arises...

How can her wordy, introspective story be turned

into a fiercely captivating one?

That's the key to Anna's success.

We all agree on that?

Already, well done!

Literature needs a proposal like yours.

Rebels like you who spill their guts let us unblock the world!

Rebel or marginal?

I agree with Pierre-Frédéric.

Your approach is refreshing,

although a little conflicting.

Conflicting?

Hard to relate if we don't understand your world.

The rules of our world don't apply at all to Anna's story.

It's science fiction... It's a fantasy! It's not real life!

Oh, well, no, in fact, it's all true.

Well, in that case, I feel that

too much subjectivity distances us from reality.

A reality we'd like to have access to.

If you don't romanticize it, it's just a diary.

What you're doing is self-fiction, except that you don't assume

the fantasy that colors your story.

No offense, but it's not fantasy, it's... autobiography.

Exactly what I'm saying.

There's no such thing as autobiography, darling.

Why? - It all depends on context, perception.

From the moment you recount an event,

it's systematically disguised...

You have no choice.

Life is the greatest simulacrum! - That's it.

So, what are you suggesting?

Put a little perspective in your text.

Have the courage of your ambitions.

But it's just that I never wanted it to be...

grandiose.

Anna, listen.

Constructively speaking, it's boring, your rambling

and introspection about your place in the universe.

Make us feel the raw of your past!

Coolness: guns, robberies, blood, dope, everything!

Sell us the dream!

Put hope in your misery!

You see, that speaks to me!

I understand.

I understand, but...

there was nothing... cool

about my old life.

Well, you see?

You're surrounded by experts. No-one has time to waste.

You may not approve of our methods, but they've proved their worth.

If you want to keep your journal as it is, you can.

Organize a party with your friends

who'll congratulate you on your achievement.

We can make you the badass of French-speaking literature.

But you have to be able to make sacrifices.

Well, there he is!

You're late.

Micky's with Céline! Get over here, quick!

What's it like to live on the streets?

I can't even imagine.

It must be terrible.

Imagine the dirt,

the smells, the cold, the hunger.

Fuck! Fuck!

Addictions.

Addictions?

Living like that, I'd end up shooting up too.

Ah, you, that's for sure!

Evil must be cured by evil.

"I need the suffering of others to exist! A torch in hearts.

When I'm alone, I wither away."

Fun, fun, fun, fun!

And you... Michael,

what do you do in life?

Are you... in literature too?

Tell me, Anna... do you have anyone in your life?

- Vincent, I'm sure! - Oh, clearly.

When I read it, I sensed there was something latent between you.

Excuse me?

Yes, something forbidden. You know...

- Incestuous. - I didn't dare say it.

- The masks come off. - Boom!

OK...

I admit it.

I dream of...

of his face...

his fingers...

on my chest,

his tongue on my pussy, his cock in my mouth.

You may think the tragedy in my life is that I want to sleep with my brother.

But no, really! The tragedy was...

feeling my best friend's brains explode in my face.

Are you OK?

Excuse me, Céline.

I'm sorry for ruining your beautiful evening.

I had so much hope when I came here!

But you're good.

Fucking great at what you do because you managed to make me believe

that I belonged with your friends.

You made me feel special

and that my life was worth reading.

I even thought your environment might be able to elevate me!

How fucking stupid of me, huh?

Micky, explain to me.

Otherwise what?

You'll kill me, Micky?

Like you killed Mirko?

Anna, what's going on? Tell me what's going on!

Vinz! Go!

You'll think of me when you light your fuse.

Philippe...

I'm not exactly a whiz with procedures,

but it's in the epilogue in which authorsdrop a nice moral or a big life lesson.

I don't know, it's really dumb to playthe philosopher, especially with you.

I've no lessons to give from the bottom of my 30 years.

I'm not virtuous, there's nothing heroic about me.

That's why you'll only findthree dots at the end of my story.

It's not to piss you off.

It's just to make suretheres always something left to tell.

May I speak to Bertrand, please?

Philippe Albert.

This week, Valérie, you talk about a shocking book.

The testimony of a young delinquentwho shares her thoughts as a diary.

But who's behind the pages of this self-fiction?

Well, it's Anna K, a criminal on the loose

and actively sought by the authorities

for an attackon a local entrepreneur last year.

Pretty sordid.

It's mostly about correspondence by a woman who disappeared.

Who really knows how much truth her text contains?

Anna K's novel

sparked widespread controversy in the literary world.

Protests erupted both in support of theyoung author and against her approach.

The authorities are trying to apprehend her,

while literary enthusiasts debatethe blurred boundaries

between creativity and criminality.

The debate rages on, and only time will reveal the true legacy

of this enigmatic figure.

A little bird tells me it'll be hard to find out

as long as she remains untraceable.

Jesus Christ!

Did you get lost along the way?