All language subtitles for Louise.en.Hiver.2016.FRENCH.720p.BluRay.x264-Ulysse

Louise in Winter

What a hullabaloo.

The train only dropped
them off last night...

and they've already
invaded the beach.

If only they'd come back
a few at a time.

I got it!

Not all at once...

...and not shout so much
at their children.

Or not bring the children.

I didn't think
they'd recognize me.

But this morning,

some of them waved to me
with great delight...

...the way you'd wave
to an athlete

who'd won a gold medal,

that everyone would
forget the next day.

Others just smiled...

as if nothing had happened.

A misunderstanding?

Nothing of any consequence.

And yet...

I was in no hurry.

I was catching
the last train of the season.

It left at seven
in the evening,

just as it does every year

before the big tide
at the equinox.

I had plenty of time.

The storm lasted
for three days,

three whole days

when I didn't dare
leave the house.

Then, the weather turned fine.

It was sunny and warm
for September.

I wasn't frightened,

but I was annoyed.

They would soon notice
I hadn't come home.

My janitor would get in touch with Josiane.

She and the children
would come to fetch me,

and I'd be in for
a good talking to.

I wonder if I could
manage by myself.

I expected someone
to show up on Sunday,

but in the end
no one came.

I was surprised,
but I didn't really mind.

They'll come sooner or later.

It's funny, people are afraid
of everything nowadays.

It's not the first
monster tide we've had.

No one made a fuss
back in the day.

I spent most of my time
on the beach.

The sand is warm.

The sea isn't as cold
as it is in July.

And there's life
everywhere I look...

...as if all the creatures

have been waiting for
the vacationers to leave.

The birds pay
no attention to me.

I must be insignificant
to them.

All I can do is wait.

People will come at Christmas,

if only to make sure that
their houses are still standing.

I've moved out of my house.

Much too quiet...

and damp.

I left a sign
on the door.

"I missed my train.
Help. I'm on the beach."

By Christmas,
they'd have found nothing

but a sponge
at the end of the hall,

eaten by worms,
covered with moss.

"Oh, look, it's Louise!"

That's who it is."

November 15th.

Weather, fair.

Light fog.

Tidal coefficient, 90.

I used a tide table
as a calendar.

The ocean gently
turns the pages,

and every morning

I wake up to a new sky,

a new expanse of beach...

...all just for me.

I could do anything...

...or nothing.

I could lie around all day long.

But I've established
a routine.

In the morning,
cleaning.

The sand gets in everywhere.

Next, a cold shower
on the beach

in front of the hotel.

Then, shore fishing
till noon.

I manage very well.

Like when I built
my little shack,

I surprised myself.,

I wasn't as clumsy
as I expected.

My body remembers
how to do things

that I myself have forgotten.

After lunch,
a little nap.

Then I wander off to explore.

The best part of the day.

Oh, I never go very far,

just as far as my legs
can carry me.

But I seem to be
in better health

than I was in the city.

My aches and pains are gone,

and I haven't had
a single cold.

All I have in my first aid kit
is a roll of sticking plaster.

I always seem to be
cutting my fingers

with my poor eyesight.

I'm usually tired
come evening,

but once a week I go for
a stroll along the promenade

for old times' sake.

I always enjoy that.

At night, I sleep like a baby.

I decided to celebrate
Christmas today,

before the crowds arrive.

Oh, they should be here
by late afternoon

so they'll have time
to put up their decorations.

My last day on my own.

And the sun is still shining.

I remember Christmases
in Biligen long ago,

so cold and gray

the street lights
would stay on all day long.

We'd dash out to the shops
for pastries and cheese

and hurry back
to huddle by the fire

and listen to music
on the radio.

Well, in a few days,
I'll be home.

Back to my life,
such as it is.

It seems so strange.

February 7th.

Still no answer.

It doesn't matter,
I'm getting used to it.

And I have a lot to do.

I had to find some good soil,
and that wasn't easy.

There's hardly anything
but sand.

But I managed.

I'm growing lettuce
and leeks.

Now what I need
is a little rain.

Of course, every day
the sky is clear.

If only I could say
the same for my eyesight.

I'm having trouble
seeing close up.

But my distance vision
is another matter.

Last night, it was funny,

I went up on the promenade
to look through the telescope.

You never know.

I was about to put
my last coin in the slot

when I realized
I didn't need to.

I could see a line of cliffs
on the horizon

as clear as anything

for the first time.

Perhaps it was because
the sun was shining on them.

I stood there looking at them
for a long time,

as if they were
somehow familiar...

...though there's no escaping
that way.

There's someone else
in Biligen.

I felt it for
the last few days.

Another castaway?

I know he's here somewhere.

It's getting on my nerves.

Ah.

Here's the latest news.

"The Highest Tides
of the Century."

Don't headline writers
love to frighten people?

Hm, look at this.

"Panic in the Netherlands!"

Oh, I don't like that.

I don't need anyone now.

I could have called him
Wednesday,

that's the day we met.

Or maybe Shore Fisher

because that's what
he likes to do best.

I called him Pepper.

It suits him.

He's old,

his coat is rough and shaggy.

He's salt and pepper,

We haven't been out of each
other's sight for a week.

We eat our meals together.

We're learning to get along.

If he gets ahead,
he'll stop and wait,

...and he'll pretend there's
something in the sand

that needs a good sniff.

I've been telling him about the daydreams
I've been having recently.

Are they memories or what?

They just appear
out of the blue...

...like...

...like little waves,

mysterious.

Hello, Tom.

How are you today?

Oh, mustn't grumble.

At least the birds aren't
pestering me today.

Have you seen Pierre?
I'm looking for him.

You know what he told me?

He says there are squirrels
that can fly.

They spread out their paws
up high.

I'd really like to try.

It wouldn't work, Louise.

It's dangerous.

What would you know?

You tried when you jumped
out of your plane?

You don't even know
the war is over.

My grandmama told me.

"The war is over,"
she said.

Hey, know what?

My mother showed up earlier.

She wants to take me away.

I'm not going with her.

I hate her guts!

Okay, I'm off.

- Louise!
- See you tomorrow.

You see, Pepper,

I once had a friend like you.

I could babble away to him
to my heart's content.

After that...

...nobody.

I was probably
in a convent school.

Then they got me married,
as I was a hell raiser.

The years flew by.

I had children...

...and many grandchildren too,
I imagine.

Now they're fussing
about us old folks.

The golden years.

The golden years.

That's the stage I'm at now.

I'm expecting a medal any day.

But you must be so bored
listening to me.

It's not something
you could understand.

Animals couldn't care less
about growing old.

Lucky for you.

What would you know
about that, Louise?

What?

Well, animals always know
when they're going to die,

but they don't feel they have
to make a fuss about it.

That's too much.

I can hardly believe it.

Good grief!

They've found a way
to let animals talk.

Only dogs.

It was impossible with cats.

They had to abandon
the research.

Now that we talk, we're more
like an old couple than ever.

Oh, not that he's a chatterbox.

But he seems to feel
he has to look after me.

It can get annoying.

Take yesterday.

I was out of sorts.

And he noticed.

What's wrong, Louise?

Ah, nothing.

No, there's something wrong.
I can tell.

It's because it's getting
close to Easter.

No one will come. No one.

You know that.

I don't particularly
want to see them,

but I want to find out what
I might have done to them,

that's all.

Last night...

...I had a strange dream.

State your name,
address, and title.

I--I forget.

Hear that?

She admits it.

She forgot it all!

Her parents, her lovers,

her children, her husband!

No, I would love
to be able to forget him.

He had the same ugly mug
as you do, Your Honor.

Off with her head!

No, that would be too kind.

I demand the maximum punishment!

Solitude!

Objection!

Ladies and gentlemen
of the jury,

Louise has opened her heart
to us all here in the court.

She remembers her last husband

because he was ugly.

Do you not see, ladies
and gentlemen of the jury,

in this touching admission,
the secret of her forgetfulness?

She doesn't remember her life
because her life was wonderful,

and that she was
quite simply happy.

Happy?

Her children,

she can't even remember
her children.

Surely that can't be normal,
Your Honor.

But happy people have no need to
tell the story of their lives.

Therefore,
they do not need a memory.

But go ahead, find her guilty
if you want. It's all the same to me.

Off with her head,
off with her head!

No, hang on!

Solitude...

but in perpetuity!

Say, Pepper,

do you think a person
can be punished

for having forgotten more
than half of their life?

Sentenced in perpetuity.

Sounds like we might
be here for a while.

Pepper, listen to this.

My shadow followed me
step by step,

slipping over the sand.

But it was so pale,
so pale and so light,

that I began to wonder...

...if it wasn't my memory.

Isn't that good?

What do you think?

The lightness of the shadow man.

You may not have forgotten
everything, Louise.

You old dog!

You want to get
the cobwebs out, huh?

Do you think I could get
all the way to those cliffs?

No harm trying.
Come on.

You're still here, Tom?

As you can see,

still hanging around.

I didn't think I'd see you
again, Louise.

I missed you.

We were partners
in crime, you and I.

You'd bring the boys
here for a kiss,

and I'd give them
the fright of their lives.

It's true.

I was a real little minx,
wasn't I?

And Pierre?

Whatever happened to him?

Do you remember? He promised
that he'd teach me how to fly.

Oh, you really have lost
your memory, Louise.

Pierre got even
with them all

in his own way.

Did he really
jump off the cliff?

Oh, no, no.
He was only pretending...

...and you thought you'd
die of fright.

You were so frightened that you
swore to forget him forever.

Don't you remember?

The next day,
you ended up here together,

and you made love.

Why, yes.

That was the first time
I ever made love.

It's funny,
it was almost as if

nothing really
mattered back then.

Oh, it did matter, Louise.

Everything always matters.

You see, in the end,
things fall into place.

Now let it go.

You have all the time
in the world.

Pepper?

Pepper?

I spent a few days
thinking about that,

like with a book when you read
the same page over and over.

Then spring came,
and I closed the book.

At any rate,
I had a lot to do.

Along with high tides just before Easter,
came days of rain.

Our shack was leaking
like a sieve.

It needed a lot of work.

When the sun came out again,
the garden went wild.

I could hardly keep up.

I spent all day
in the vegetable patch.

No time to write.

And that's when Pepper
started to act up.

He'd go off by himself for an hour,
maybe two, no more.

And then one evening,

I wasn't worried at first...

...but he didn't come home.

Pepper!

Pepper?

Pepper?

My hair's gone completely white.

Look at all these wrinkles.

Oh, bah, Louise.

You've become an old woman.

Wait, what?

Oh no!

I have red spots.

I wonder if that's why
they all left me behind.

They must not have
forgotten me.

They were afraid...

that getting old
is contagious.

That's why they stepped
out of my way at the shops.

Such fine folks.

Polite but prudent.

Can't be too careful.

Well, that explains it.

Everybody else knew.

And Pepper,
that must be why he left me.

Huh, they can wait
all they want.

I won't give them
the satisfaction.

July 1st.

Full moon.

The tide is over ten meters.

We've decided to live,
Pepper and I.

He's lost the power of speech.

I think that's why he left.

Poor old thing.

He may have been afraid
to disappoint me. Who knows?

It doesn't matter.

We just have
to look at each other

and we understand.

Hunger, cold.

Wanting to go for a walk.

And as for making the best
of the high tides,

well, great minds
think alike.

It's already summer,

and the days are
growing shorter.

The train only dropped
them off last night,

and they're already
on the beach.

If only they'd come back
a few at a time,

not all at once
in a bunch,

and not yell at the children
so much.

They haven't changed,

but somehow they seem tired.

Everyone is very kind to me.

I don't scare them
the way I used to.

They asked me to be on the committee
for the village f�te,

but I declined.

Nowadays,
they leave me to myself.

During the day...

...they get a bit rowdy.

But they're not much noisier
than the seagulls.

When we need peace and quiet,

Pepper and I,

we head out for a walk
along the dunes.

The weather continues fair.

I think we're in for
a very pleasant autumn.