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DEATH DOES NOT EXIST

- You're shaking.
- We have to be sure.

Aren't you?

- You scared?
- No!

It's just the two of them.

No kids, not as many bodyguards.

With the servants,
they'll only be 11 or 12.

The help's not armed.

That leaves one guard for each of us.

- It's risky.
- But doable.

They told us to get everything ready.

The conservatory, the bedroom.
And then take off.

So they're alone.

Fine with me.

Are you in or are you
running home to mommy?

Lay off. We need to ask
the right questions.

It's about the answers.

- And the meaning of our actions.
- They're thieves!

They're using us - all of us,
even your bourgie parents.

Not so loud.

Their elegance and power...

It's all spectacle, we know that.

They just need a lesson.

It'll all collapse. It won't take much...

A bit of courage.

A bit of truth.

They're taking everything!

What if they're just rich geezers?

Rich geezers who own half the country,

polluting everything.

They own the whole town.

Main Street, the lakes, the houses,

the forest and rivers.
Huge gardens where nobody goes.

Shh, I told you.

They won't stop, ever.

Them and all their kind.

This can only end badly, for sure.

It'll end badly.

We're taking action, speeding things up.

In a normal country they...

Hélène?

You're my friend. Tell me the truth.

Are you certain?

Really?

Hélène?

Can you do it?

Shoot them?

Not bulls eyes or cans...

Real people?

With blood?

And faces.

Hélène, you?

You know there's no going back, ever?

Once we start, there's no going back.

We...

We know the sacrifice, the urgency.

The alternative.

We can set off the fire.

We can strive for something new
and fairer

more beautiful, freer.

Before it's too late.

No one can say we just stood by.

No one can say we didn't try.

We'll strike.

Hit 'em hard!

It's like a promise.

- I have to tell you.
- Make it quick.

I want to tell you...

I want to tell you...

What is it?

It's for you.

I love you.

Later.

Later, Marc.

Everything you're going to lose, Hélène...

Everything you're going to lose...

There, get 'em.

You said...

Marc!

Running away, really!

Such cowardice!

Did you see?

They're slaughtering us.

Like it's nothing.

You...

You got away?

The others?

Did they make it?

Come...

Are you hurt?

You?

Nothing serious.

Hurry up.

- Are they following us?
- Of course.

Manon?

Do you know where we are?

- Manon...
- You go first.

We'll get off the trail for the night.

Gimme a hand.

What's going on?

You hungry?

What's going on?

Lower your voice.
The forest is full of surprises.

What are we doing?

You have a second chance.

What?

You swore we'd be together, forever.

But...

You abandoned us...

Me, the others...

Now that you know what can happen,

what will you do?

You have a second chance.

You can betray us, again...

Run home, save your skin.

Or you can go on with us.

You have to choose.

Or choose again..

It's still easy.
You're between two possibilities,

as if you're floating.

But it won't last.

They're looking for you.

They'll find you, eventually.
A matter of time.

Of state of mind, too, maybe.

- And you?
- Me?

I'm watching you, Hélène.

So you don't forget us.

Here's what we'll do.

I'll show you some stuff.

Then I'll take you to
a cliff. You'll decide.

You attack.

Or you play it safe.

Either way,

you call the shots.

Are you lost?

What?

Are you lost?

- I was with someone.
- But now you're lost.

Are you scared?

No.

You must be, a little.

Maybe a little.

What are you scared of?

Not finding your way?

Or what you'll discover, maybe?

I was following someone,
a girl my age.

- Seen her?
- Is she your friend?

- Yeah.
- Your best friend?

I guess.

Are you following her
or is she watching you?

Good question.

Did you see her?

Do you know the names of flowers?

Not really.

Everlasting.

Impatiens.

Bloodroot.

No.

You should..

Then you could choose your favorite flower.

A favorite flower's important.

Mine are daisies.

Where'll you go?

A cliff, I think.

All the paths in the forest
lead to the same place.

They turn, climb, go down...

But they end at the same place.

What's your name?

You first.

Hélène.

You?

What's yours?

- Exactly like you.
- Really?

You know what you're refusing.

You know time is short.

But do you really know the price?

And what you risk losing?

Say what?

You've more power than you know.

But be careful. You can't
save everything. Or control it.

You have to choose.

It's still a gamble.

Wait!

That girl?

She looks like you, right?

You saw her?

She's disappeared.

You see?

It's my turn now.

I'm crying

for our fate.

And it doesn't get us anywhere.

Manon, I want to go home.

Of course.

I understand.

But you're not about
to betray us again, either.

It's...

It's tricky.

You have to decide.

Quick, before they catch you.

But it'd be sad

if you didn't see the cliff.

Everything going on below,
when things speed up.

We failed.

Partly. We got the old guy.

We were naive.

Romantic, rather.

- It was pointless.
- We don't know that.

Lots can still happen.

There may be consequences

that we didn't foresee or expect.

And

if you'd been there,
maybe it would've been different.

Unlikely.

We've more power than we think.

To talk like you...

A little courage,

a little truth

everything can change.

Wait a second.

Let me guess what you're thinking.

Wait...

You're not sure what to save.
Yourself? The others?

Or Marc, maybe?

You think,

"So,

violence is impossible.

"But still..."

Letting things rot as they are,

is just as impossible.

We can't just give up, right?

You think,

"We need life."

Life...

It's movement.

And movement

has a cost, inevitably.

It's hard.

Save your skin,

or dirty your hands.

And maybe change things.

Or save what you love.

It's true, it's hard.

But crying like a baby
doesn't change anything.

You have to choose.

What are you loyal to?

To whom?

I forgot...

In case it helps you decide.

There's this...

- Give!
- Depends on what you choose.

Let's call it a reward.

- It's mine, give it!
- What'll you do?

Want it? I'm listening.

What'll you do?

I'm waiting.

Go away.

Time's running out.

I said go away.

We were attacking the symbol.

Shaking things up.

Now.

Right away.

Look,

the bird, there...

On the ground.

You see?

We need movement.

We need life, no matter the cost.

No matter how.

I'm going home.

I won't forget you.

Run away.

The coyote?

Or its prey?

Either choose,
or they'll decide for you.

Between being

hunter or prey?

Exactly.

Our action has two sides.

The harsh, tragic side.

But there's hope too.

Something very much alive.

Despite everything.

If you run away,
everything you're feeling now

doubt, remorse...

It'll catch up with you.

Beneath your skin,
in your throat, your chest.

A guilty fear.

Pervasive.

Hélène?

Hélène...

Marc?

Help me!

Help her,
what are you waiting for?

Do you need me?

See, it's taking over you.

Your belly, first.

Or lungs.

Then climbs into your throat.

Till you can't move.

Or do anything.

Something shiny, immobile,

useless.

So what do we do now?

Still want to go home?

Please...

Hélène!

Marc?

I'll take you with me.

Don't worry.

I'm not worried.

Forgive me.

You

abandoned us.

It was the old woman,
she kept looking at me.

Like she knew me.

She spoke to me.

She said...

- I stopped and...
- Careful!

They're looking for you.

Does it hurt?

It looks like it hurts.

Now we don't move.

We barely breathe.

They won't see us.

You abandoned me.

Forgive me.

What's in your letter?

Choose first.

What you do with your second chance.

You'll be killed.

Your second chance wasted.

We'll come back if you want.

To the same place.

Almost the same time.

Do you regret it?

- Regret what?
- Playing safe.

Yes.

Go away.

Sometimes you have to insist.

Marc.

Those people

rich, powerful...

They're only the tip of our misfortune.

You have to attack what's buried.

Submerged.

What we don't speak of.

Or in a whisper.

Your weakness.

Your fear.

Your shame.

It's the best part.

I dreamed of you.

You've got older.

I dreamed about the two of us.

In my dream we'd both got old.

Me too.

I mean,

I dreamed about us too,

older.

That's how we'll be.

Old,

in a dream.

As adults.

- Patient.
- Realistic.

Boring.

In your dream, what do we do?

A normal life.

Does that exist?

Are we happy?

Yes.

I think so.

And then?

Then?

We raise our kids.

A little boy

and a big girl.

We love them as best we can,
with all our might.

Just that is a lot.

It connects us
to something important.

There,

right away.

We work,

but not too much.

We have a bit of time for us,
some space.

We grow old together.

We enjoy what we have.

We protect it.

It's sweet, and quite simple,
if we don't worry too much.

But fear overtakes us.

Just like that.

All of a sudden.

Fear that it's too late.

Fear of having betrayed ourselves.

Ourselves and our kids,

by doing nothing.

Despite the urgency.

It's possible to simply
try to do things well.

Without risking everything we have.

Is that enough?

No.

We won't be the only ones pretending.

Or we'll find another way.

As best we can.

As quickly, as much as we can.

Whatever it costs.

When the dream's over,

will you be up to it,
face to face?

To be the woman with the gun?

When the old lady looks at you,

right in the eye?

Can you do it?

I want to stop worrying.

Maybe we...

Maybe we have to be committed to life.

To protecting it.

Doing only what makes it possible.

That's what we want to do, right?

I don't know.

You don't know?

Maybe you prefer comfort,

simple pleasures, second-rate joy?

My own life.

Embrace your deep ambitions instead.

Your demands

complete

unexpected.

Don't abandon
what makes you free

and dangerous.

And be careful where you step.

The cliff...

From here, we can see almost everything.

What happens if we succeed.

What happens if you're there, with us.

The violence of the impact.

The shockwave.

And the aftermath, which no one controls.

Isn't that what we want?
A big upheaval, something new.

Bigger. More beautiful.

Even better than we imagined.

I long for fire.

Me, for a tidal wave.

Unstoppable.

In disorder.

Calming.

In the commotion,

the promise of rest.

Here we go.

From a distance it still looks easy.

It's up close that it gets messy.

Enough.

I'm scared too, what do you think?

I want to live, too.

C'mon.

Let's head down.

I want to go home.

Come.

If you close your eyes,

the stars shine on a second longer.

Don't touch my parents!

Hungry?

They've come for you.

Look at your mother.

She sleeps badly.

She'll soon die.

She was always gentle, a hard-worker,

never complaining...

Look at your dad.

He's sinking,

a lump.

So beaten down, he barely wakes up.

Go on, go back to your room.

Leave all this behind.

Go to sleep.

Stay calm, submissive.

Like your parents.

And who knows?

Maybe you'll wake up at home,
as if nothing happened.

A huge relief, right?

The sweet futility
of a dream interrupted.

Can I save Marc?

You'll only know if you try.

Do you want it?

Choose.

What about your second chance?

Me too.

I love you too.

Can you forgive me?

I already have.

I'll read it after.

Marc!

Wait for me!

You're shaking.

Come nearer.

Come nearer, please.

I'd like to see your face.

Do you have an idea
what you'll do after all this?

Do you think you'll quietly
rejoin your companion?

That boy...

Do you love him?

Yes.

And you're here out of love?

Not only.

You won't escape this, you know.

I'll still try.

If you knew how brief all this is

terribly brief

you'd stop running.

You'd search for the faint hopes

that subsist

and you'd protect them.

Delicately.

That's an illusion of old age.

It's the acute consciousness
of an immense fragility.

What you see as the order of things
can't go on.

It's impossible.

It has to end.

In fact,

it's already over.

Believe me,

you risk being disappointed.

And you won't be able to go back.

I don't envy your comfort

or your power.

Just as I no longer envy your youth.

Or very little.

Your kind will destroy everything.

I have several regrets.

Sorrows I can't get over.

But I tell myself that if our paths rise,

fall,

or fork,

they all end at the same place.

You just have to choose how.

You save what you can.

Yourself, first of all.

I saw you in the forest.

I saw everything.

Your rage.

Your pain.

You're scared.

You don't know what to do with the fear.

With the emptiness.

With your contradictions.

I'll share a secret with you.

I don't either.

An entire lifetime

and I still don't know.

I've seen everything.

Even that troubling letter.

Did you read it?

Will you open it?

You open it.

Give it.

Save yourself.

That's all one can do.

There's nothing more to be hoped for.

Nothing changes.

Everything happens.

Everything wears out,

disappears.

And it starts over.

Believe me.

Save yourself.

Hélène?

Marc?

Marc!

Marc?

Where are you?

Behind you, I think.

Do you know what's happening?

I'm coming!

Marc!

Wait!

Wait for me!

Wait up!

My dear Hélène,

What matters is

the things we love.

Above all, what we remain loyal to.

Even if, along the way,

we lose many things.

And everything fades.

Everything passes, my friend.

Here's my answer.

I have an answer.

I've my answer, Marc.

I'd like...

I want

to make my strength
the basis for a balance.

To turn my rage

into the home we're missing.

I want a modest share of the world.

But a share that's all mine.

Subtitles: Robert Gray, Kinograph