Original subtitles

ISMAEL'S GHOSTS

Ivan Dedalus...

Ivan...

Dedalus.

MINISTRY OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS

Hello.

Jacques!

- You're here? - Yes!

You're Parisian now?

No... I'm just passing through.

Is Dedalus still in the vicinity?

Dedalus was stationed in Vienna.

But no news since.

Not at the Ministry.

You're sure he's still with us?

- He fell off the radar. - What radar?

Are you looking for him?

Investigating?

I'm passing through. I was wondering.

Ivan disappeared. So I'm asking.

I told my wife: "We're spending three years in Vilnius."

- Where? - That's what she said.

She wanted London or Trinidad.

She hasn't spoken to me in two weeks.

Poor you!

I'm too old for Vilnius. I feel the cold easily.

Anyway, Vilnius is too much for me.

And yet I packed my bags

and began learning Lithuanian.

So I got to Prague to meet the Ukrainian delegation.

Top secret. They start talking about the Russians.

- I ask the First Secretary... - Who was it?

That guy, a little strange...

Dedalus!

- Of course! - Our best man.

Passport, please.

Who's Dedalus?

I came here to speak to him.

But Ivan disappeared.

It was his specialty.

Meaning?

You remember the rumors.

I'm not alone in thinking at times he was...

An angel.

Or a SPY-

- No. - Yes.

An interior agent?

Why would he be interior?

How did he get in?

He came out of nowhere at 35, no diploma, unlikely face.

Best score, external candidate. Too good to be true.

Mr. Dedalus?

You know who really liked Ivan?

He hired him, mentored him!

Claverie!

That traitor!

Claverie. 30 years on the job.

Stationed in Warsaw under Gierek.

Thought to be a communist mole.

Then they said the Americans recruited him.

In Asia, rumors of corruption.

Quai d'Orsay found nothing. But he was put out to pasture.

Mr. Claverie will see you.

Follow me.

Shall I Sit?

Please do.

We're here to find you an assignment.

Really?

Your exam results were excellent. Congratulations.

Thank you.

I'm in charge of security, confidentiality,

things of the sort.

Which is very precious here.

Found an apartment?

Not yet. I arrived by train this morning.

You have an atypical trajectory.

Excuse me,

you're no longer very young,

and you haven't done "traditional" studies.

Meaning?

Graduate studies in politics or language...

I wasn't so lucky.

But you speak six languages.

Well, I understand Arabic a bit.

I wouldn't say I'm fluent.

May I ask where you learned these languages?

I learned all alone in Roubaix.

With manuals.

Any scientific aptitudes?

I love science,

but I studied law.

By correspondence!

It's an unusual path.

It's uncommon to begin working so late in life.

I worked for my father for a while.

I saw that in your file.

Dyeing factory.

Traditional.

That's where you got your law degree, by correspondence.

To pay off my father's bankruptcy.

My mother died when I was a kid.

And my father brought me up alone.

No military service?

It says: "Exempted for medical reasons."

Were you ill?

Is your health better?

I received good treatment.

Pardon my curiosity, but what brings you here?

I read a government job ad in the paper.

But why Quai d'Orsay?

Well...

I thought...

I was so curious about the world.

Perfect.

I hope we won't disappoint you.

Welcome among us.

What would you have done if you weren't admitted.

Nothing.

I was tired.

"Nothing.

I was tired."

It's me.

Henri...

- Am I bothering you? - You can't bother me.

What time is it?

It's three o'clock but I can't sleep at the moment.

I'm losing my mind!

- Don't panic. - I need your help.

- I'm coming. - I'm fed up!

I'll be there in twenty minutes!

Wait for me, Henri.

- It's me. - Come up!

I dreamt Carlotta was dead.

My friend...

Come.

I was looking at these slides.

And dark thoughts...

took hold of me.

Don't look at them at night. It makes you melancholic.

I miss my daughter.

Every night I dream about the ditch

where my daughter had her throat cut.

It's a disgusting place with dirty papers.

And it's cold.

Quiet.

When Carlotta disappeared, I hated you.

I know.

I wondered what you could have done

to make such a joyful girl disappear like that.

What could I have done?

I don't know...

Cheat on her.

Henri, you're one to talk!

Who disappears over an unfaithful husband?

She's the one who slept around.

Yes!

She was strong like me.

She loved life.

Yes.

She was running from you.

She was running from all of us.

Of course.

And Carlotta wasn't all that joyful.

Wrong!

She was the purest child ever!

She knew how to laugh!

You're too consumed with despair.

You're...

uncertain.

No woman ever left me.

But I was much too young,

an awkward husband obsessed by my films and theater.

Selfish little son of a bitch.

I couldn't look after her.

I knew how to.

You were a cumbersome father,

so cumbersome

that she lived in your shadow, then ended up in mine.

Your shadow is nothing next to mine!

I realize that, dear master.

A formidable father and a husband too weak.

Look at these pictures.

Look.

You declared her dead

and now I can't sleep.

I declared her absent, not dead.

You'd waited 18 years for her

and you found it unbearable.

I'm going to the seaside. Can I leave you?

There's a retrospective of my films in Tel Aviv next month.

Excellent!

Will you come?

It would be a pleasure, an honor.

Still with your companion?

- Sylvia. - Ah yes.

She's very good for you.

You shouldn't have come to see me.

Goodnight.

Sir?

May I borrow your phone?

For Paris. I'll pay for the call.

Sure.

It's me.

I just left Henri's.

Am I waking you?

He called during the night.

Can I come by your place?

It's early.

Come in.

What did your tyrant want?

He's an old man. He was crying.

Why?

He was thinking of his daughter.

Do you think of her?

It's been 20 years, dear. Don't be jealous of a ghost.

You'll try to sleep?

I don't know. I'll lie down.

Get undressed!

Get into bed with me!

You need to sleep.

TWO YEARS EARLIER...

Two years ago, I met Ismael through some mutual friends.

I'm an astrophysicist.

Ismael was a filmmaker.

He was a loner,

loved to be aggressive.

Rumor had it he'd lost a wife very young.

I enjoyed bumping into him, even if he scared me.

I stared at him, from the end of the table.

He looked thuggish.

He loved making fun of the books I read.

And of my prudishness.

I was slowly getting drunk.

Then I started leaving.

Leaving because I made you uncomfortable?

No, not at all.

- Can I drop you off by taxi? - I don't know.

One night...

he offered me a ride.

All right.

How about a drink?

No ulterior motives.

Yes.

Do you know a bar?

Yes.

Why don't you have kids?

Married men...

What?

I loved married men.

Your specialty.

Yes, that's it.

Good.

I'm single now, so we don't stand much of a chance.

None whatsoever.

And you, no kids?

I adopted one, once.

I did.

Not bad.

It didn't end well.

- That's sad. - No, it's okay.

Why didn't you have children with your married man?

You mean at my age?

I never ask ladies their ages.

Ladies?

Yes.

I'm my brother's legal guardian.

Is he crazy?

Is he in jail?

An alcoholic?

Nope.

He's handicapped.

It forbids you from having a child.

Yes, a little.

- It's been my whole life. - Your brother?

Well, not my whole life.

There's the married man too.

What's his name?

The handicapped brother?

Pierre.

It frightens you.

He's my blessing.

In fact, you're not really single.

Really?

I've seen you with a very young woman.

It's over with her.

You were together for a while.

There were a lot of breaks.

We wanted to leave each other,

but never at the same time.

And yet, it was practical.

I had someone at home to answer the phone.

How convenient!

Want a bite?

No thanks.

So you're between women?

That's right.

And you sleep with your actresses?

Of course.

- They're very pretty! - Very.

It's here.

I'd like to come up.

No, it's too late.

Just for five minutes.

I said no.

I'll go upstairs, then leave right away.

So why go up?

I just want to see where you live!

I said no!

Do I have to beg to see it, on my knees?

It'll just embarrass you!

Stop it! Stop!

You're so damn stiff!

I'm not stiff.

I'm shy.

This isn't right.

Okay, it's pretty-

Good bye.

You're not kissing me?

Your friends told you I'm a widower?

I'm sorry.

My dear!

I never dared ask...

What is your movie about?

It's a portrait of my brother.

Ivan?

Yes, Ivan.

Why have I never met your brother?

He's at the other end of the world. I'm a homebody.

He was the sensible brother.

I was the madman.

So you admit it?

You bet!

He was the spy?

I believe so.

So you'll get your movie done.

What do you know?

I trust you blindly.

You don't know me.

I think I do.

Better than anyone.

You didn't write today?

Don't scold me.

You sleep all day and can't sleep at night.

I'm terrified.

I don't want you to be afraid, my love.

It's the nightmares, every single night.

I reread The Interpretation of Dreams.

There's no explanation for nightmares.

None whatsoever. It's pure persecution!

Go easy on the pills. You won't wake up.

I have to knock myself out or the nightmares persecute me.

Stop with that. You'll kill yourself.

It's my nightmares that will kill me.

My friend...

come here.

Come here!

Come!

When we spoke about Ivan,

we tried to sketch a profile of him.

When we spoke of Ivan, we tried to sketch a profile.

But it was hopeless from the start.

Him and his legendary naps!

Once I went to a conference with Ivan.

Something European.

On the way back, we missed our connection in Bern.

Our delegation waited at the airport for the next flight.

Three sleepless nights in Stockholm and five more hours in Switzerland.

We all slept like babies.

You're not sleeping?

No, I can't.

Count all the diplomats you've met.

I suffer from a degenerative disease.

Elsinore Syndrome.

Like the castle in Hamlet?

I have violent nightmares.

What kind?

- I'm embarrassed. - Sorry, I'm indiscreet!

It's fine. I sleep at the office.

How do you stop yourself from sleeping?

I have pills.

Are you Sylvia?

Ismael's companion?

Where is he?

In his room, writing.

He still doesn't like swimming?

How do you know that?

Because I'm his wife.

Carlotta.

I thought you were dead.

I've seen you before. In a painting.

How so?

Ismael has a painting of you at his place.

Oh, that.

It's an old portrait. I was 16.

I'll tell him.

Get any work done?

Not enough.

What's wrong?

I think I saw Carlotta.

On the beach.

I'm afraid it'll drive you crazy.

Or that I'll go crazy.

Don't mention Carlotta. I don't want to hear about her.

She's alive.

What are you saying?

She was there.

On the beach.

You're insane, dear.

She came back with me. She's waiting downstairs.

How do you know it's her?

Because she told me.

It's me.

Yes.

I've changed my hair.

Like it?

Yes.

You've aged.

How long has it been?

Twenty-one years, eight months and six days.

Am I bothering you?

I was writing.

You still make films?

I haven't seen them.

I tried through Ivan, but he disappeared.

No longer in France?

I liked him.

Sorry but I don't know anyone anymore.

I have nowhere to stay.

You left France?

Yes.

And now?

I'm in Paris.

In a shelter.

You have a place to sleep tonight?

No.

So you can stay here.

All right.

It's too big for us.

We never use it.

I put a towel in the bathroom.

Because I smell bad?

Yes, a little.

Want to borrow some clothes?

I'll be fine.

Why not ask for news of your father?

Oh, him...

Do you know him?

No.

If he were dead, I'd have heard.

It was all a lie.

What was a lie?

You and me!

Quiet.

Fight! Fight now!

I don't have the strength! I wish she were dead!

I wanted her never to come back!

Me too.

No!

It's her!

Go on.

Sleep with her and I'll kill you.

Carlotta...

Wake up.

It was an awful nightmare.

And me?

How about me?

I'm in a living nightmare and I can't wake up!

Please don't shout.

I'm an old woman now.

I'm coming back to you.

One day I'll die.

You won't die, you're already dead! Filthy whore!

What were you doing for 20 years?

Twenty-one fucking years!

Answer, you piece of shit!

I can't remember.

No, wrong. It's me who doesn't know!

Me! A thousand times I thought you dead!

I was your widower without a corpse to mourn!

You know what you did with 21 years of my life. Tell me.

Where did you go? Where were you?

Why?

When?

When?

With who?

I left alone.

What do you mean, alone?

Yes.

I can't remember why.

I was going crazy.

I was twenty.

One day I was out walking.

I went into a station.

I took a train.

Not knowing how long I was leaving for.

A week?

A year?

I don't know.

I couldn't breathe anymore.

I got off

in Lyon.

It's a big city.

I didn't know it.

I said to myself...

it was easy to disappear there.

That no one would come looking.

At first I wandered the streets.

Then the halfway houses.

You did drugs?

Yes.

Were you in prison?

No.

Then I worked.

I lived with people in the countryside.

It lasted...

six years I think.

Six years!

Why not send a note to say you weren't dead, dammit?

I didn't need an address. I'm no cop.

I wanted you alive, that's all.

But I was like dead.

Dead? Bullshit!

Twenty-one years!

You were dead!

I did every precinct, every hospital, every morgue.

Fucking detectives your father and I paid for!

On every trip

I searched for your face at every station,

with the three pictures I had of you.

What did I do to you?

I didn't know how to live.

It was unbearable.

I wanted to vanish, to tear up my life.

It's my life you tore up!

And your father's!

You used to say we owed nothing to anyone but ourselves.

That's crap.

You know what happened?

After ten years, you get declared dead.

It's me who signed the piece of paper.

A paper which I brought to your father.

We had no grave to cry at.

Just that paper with your name:

"Absent."

And that brought no relief.

Just 21 years of grief!

And were you happy?

I abandoned you, honey.

What about your father?

I abandoned all of you.

You weighed too heavy.

- Or I was too heavy. - And now you're light?

Yes.

Over the years, one day,

I was in India and I became light.

India? I don't care.

Yes, you were heavy.

You weighed a ton in Paris.

You were my ball and chain.

Were there men?

Of course.

How many?

A lot.

What did you tell them?

Nothing.

The contract was no questions, just the present.

The present is shit.

I let myself drift.

Everywhere.

And then I met a man in New Delhi.

He married me.

And then he died.

But...

when?

Three weeks ago.

So I thought I should come home.

I didn't know where to go.

I had nothing to run from.

One day, a rabbi friend of Bloom's

offered to do a funeral service.

To dig a grave.

Bloom refused.

What kind of grave is it without a body?

So in the end, Bloom and I never buried her.

See? We were right.

I remember it's this way.

There's never anyone.

Good book?

Yes.

I never read.

I never did.

To my father's despair.

When my mother died,

I was very young,

and...

I was at boarding school and came home on weekends.

At night...

my father recited poetry to me at bedtime.

And I remember a German poem

which he kept translating...

"One day,

When I lose you,

How will you be able to fall asleep?

Without me rustling over you

Like a linden crown."

Bloom.

He had his affectations.

What's your religion?

I don't have any.

That's what you answered Ismael?

What?

Don't tell me he never asked your religion.

He did.

I'm Protestant.

How vicious of him!

That's why he went out with you.

A Protestant. He couldn't resist.

Maybe.

How about you?

I'm a renegade Jew.

To my father's despair.

Who are you?

I'm sorry. I'm Ivan Dedalus.

- We're colleagues. - Step back.

You think... but no. I'm a clerk in European Affairs.

It's been six months. We met once

in an airport.

I remember.

What do you want?

I've thought about you

and I wondered...

if maybe...

you'd agree to go out with me

one night, or on a Sunday.

With you?

Yeah.

You're not a little...

crazy?

Yes, I act like a deranged person,

but at work I'm not crazy. You scare me.

It's you who scares me. You followed me here.

I'm really sorry.

But you'd make me so happy if you'd agree to...

if you had a free evening.

Well... maybe.

Meaning it's possible? When?

Why not now?

I found them.

Here they are.

You see? Real leather!

So they're sending you abroad?

For now I'm just filing reports,

doing photocopies.

They're too big.

Sit down.

We'll fix that.

Now try it on.

Perfect!

You're handsome like that.

You always had trouble finding women.

Yes.

Why?

I don't know.

Shyness.

My poor old bachelor.

Dad, I think I met a woman.

Ivan!

Come and see the lunar eclipse!

Here... for you.

What is it?

You were named attache at the embassy in Dushanbe.

You're leaving in two weeks. For three years.

Three years?

You just have to marry me.

Arielle...

you don't know who I am.

So what? I'll learn!

Arielle had stayed an adolescent.

She wanted a hero, an Achilles or a Patroclus,

or someone killed at Thermopylae.

She chose Ivan.

Oh shit!

On hearing of the marriage, a friend of Arielle's said:

"It's suicide."

Word of that got back to Ivan.

It's not easy...

being someone's suicide.

You're not that different.

What?

Aren't we alike?

You and I are the same.

Yes.

What did you come here for?

I think you know.

When I recovered Ismael, he was an old man.

I wrenched him from you. Now he has a real life.

Why are you shrugging?

Ismael is playing a role.

He's my child.

You're wrong.

You don't know him anymore.

You came to destroy me?

I always thought about him.

He's in my thoughts.

Why are you here today? Why not two years ago?

I wasn't free before. I was married.

Where's your husband?

My husband died.

Yo u. I' e Cfazy'

And I'm here.

Everything you say is poison.

I've come to take my man back.

You're ugly.

Everything you say is ugly.

You can live without him.

You won't be unhappy.

I can't.

Without Ismael...

You should have loved your husband.

That was impossible.

You no longer exist.

Even for your father, you don't exist.

You were declared dead, Carlotta.

You exist for no one now.

Alexander and I had been together for six years.

I'd come to New Delhi with fake papers.

I called myself Esther.

I was very poor.

I can't remember how I got by.

When I met Alex he was married.

He was older than me.

Very handsome. I liked that.

He left his wife.

His kids were already grown.

He bought a sort of palace in the countryside.

I moved in with him.

He listened to Indian music all the time.

Musicians would come by the house. It was joyful.

One day he died.

He vomited blood. He vomited on me.

At the Anglican church, for his funeral,

there was his family.

I was alone.

His son came and told me to leave.

I didn't leave.

I stayed.

And he called me a whore.

Like in a nightmare.

And when I got back home,

there were lawyers.

All the furniture had been seized.

They even took my clothes.

I had nothing.

Who was she?

I told you a thousand times.

Did you love her?

I told you a thousand times.

How did you love her?

The way you love a vulnerable girl.

She wavered.

Everything hurt her. I was her shield.

I never stopped not being enough for her.

And I wasn't vulnerable when you met me?

Yes.

In a different way.

H ow?

You were alone, very alone.

A nun.

You think I'm a nun in bed?

Oh, no.

How was Carlotta in bed?

I can't remember.

Bad answer. You never forget that.

She was distraught.

How so?

She'd often cry when she was making love.

What about me, now?

You're crying.

Did she cheat on you?

Yes.

All the time.

With whoever came along. She needed men to hold onto.

I was one of them.

I don't know...

I don't know how to cheat on you.

I don't know how.

I owe nothing to Carlotta. I owe you everything.

I don't want debts between me and a man.

Yes, I did save your life.

I'm jealous of Carlotta.

I can't help this jealousy.

It's burning me up!

I won't go back with Carlotta.

I wanted to drive you crazy.

Not make you reasonable.

That's why I'm jealous.

I met you too late.

Going to sleep?

What are you doing?

I wanted to look at you once more.

Why?

Talk to me!

Quiet!

Quiet.

Talk to me.

I'm leaving.

I don't know if I want to see you again.

I don't know how to love myself enough to ask you to come.

Let me leave. I beg of you.

Stay. It's I who begs of you.

Wine in the morning?

I got no sleep.

I'm writing some words of praise on your father.

Sylvia is by the sea?

She left.

Where?

Far from here.

Why didn't you leave too?

She didn't want me to.

Is it because of me?

She's an astrophysicist, head in the stars,

believes in infinity.

You picked an intelligent woman.

Sylvia is beautiful and intelligent.

Yes.

I wasn't intelligent.

Oh yes you were.

But so sad.

I've changed, my friend.

I can't anymore, Carlotta.

I won't live with you, never again.

By tomorrow I'll have vanished.

Like that.

My heart.

You...

What are you doing?

Snooping around.

Why?

You have a child!

Who?

You and Sylvia have a child.

Who is it a picture of?

A kid I knew.

Give me a child.

What?

I want to have your child.

Go away.

One day you'll disappear again.

Please.

I want it.

You should have with your Indian.

That was different.

I really loved you.

You won't have to raise it.

I'm too old.

You're not old.

Yes I am.

And I don't want to be survived.

Why didn't you go see your father?

I won't see him again.

It's too late.

What?

I have to accept what I've done

and can no longer undo.

How do I know you're Carlotta?

Not some madwoman pretending to be her?

What was your mother's name?

When did she die? Tell me where she's buried!

Tell me the name of the violin teacher I made you see

when you wanted to give up?

Why are you pretending?

If I answer, you'll suffer even more.

How much suffering do you want?

You won't see Henri because you're afraid, terrified!

Go see your father and let him die in peace!

I won't lie to him!

You're here and I'm afraid to call him!

It's tearing my mouth out! You're a lie!

Everything about you is a lie!

He's my father, not yours.

Marry him.

Or leave me alone.

It was him I loved through you!

- Going to Sylvia? - None of your business!

Don't be violent.

Let me alone!

You crush everything.

You're suffocating, morbid!

Your presence is morbid!

I look at you, touch you, and see you dead!

You make me want to vomit! Go away!

Yes, I wanted to hurt you!

Please... forgive me.

Forgive me!

I can't live alone.

Please, Ismael.

I want you to take me back.

I need you!

I don't need you, so go away!

Don't leave me.

Don't leave me.

Do I turn you on a little?

A little.

Running away?

If you loved me, go see your father.

Speak to him, I beg of you. I won't have the strength.

Sylvia, pick up.

I'm sick of your answering machine.

I'm on the highway, on the way to Paris.

I'd like to know how to find the words.

I've stopped things with Carlotta.

She's my former life.

I must reinvent myself once more.

I can't do it alone.

You're my homeland.

You're probably in your mountains,

staring at the stars and forgetting about me.

I'm lost.

I'm leaving with Bloom tomorrow.

You have to help me.

TWO YEARS EARLIER...

Excuse me, it's late.

I'm a little bit tipsy.

So have a seat.

Thanks, that's kind.

How about a glass of water?

You don't have coffee?

Sorry, I don't drink coffee.

Whiskey then?

I wanted to say that by refusing me, you're missing out.

You have to decide quickly.

I won't live a thousand years!

I did some tests. I can show you the results.

What did the doctors say?

It's not me who matters, but I can be good for you.

God knows your life is austere!

Don't hurt me.

I know, we've barely met.

You see a married man. It's wonderful with him.

I'm not saying to leave him.

But don't miss out on me.

Stop the leaves!

Raise your arms like this!

You all raise your arms! Strollers in position!

You up there! Get down! Don't be a wise-ass!

Where's Victor?

Positions, please!

We have forty minutes!

What are you reading?

- Flannery O'Connor. - Any good?

You're teasing me!

You're bored, right?

Not at all.

Is this the first shoot you've ever seen?

Yes.

And?

It seems fun.

But do you always lose your temper like that?

It depends.

You really scared me.

What do all these people do?

They work.

Want to wait for me? I'm almost done.

I'll wait at your place. Give me your keys.

No pussyfooting around!

- Hiding mistresses there? - Tons.

Fine. Give me your keys.

Here.

In the bathroom I bought stuff for women.

Toothbrushes, lotions...

Too intimidating.

I'll wait here.

Okay.

Let me take that.

I haven't fully settled in.

It's dark.

Something to drink?

A little scotch?

I have no ice.

No problem.

Your wife?

Yes. Carlotta.

We got married at 20.

You were very young.

One day she left.

When?

After three years.

- Where? - I never knew.

She just left.

And I was alone.

I lived like a widower.

One day I was very drunk, very angry.

I got rid of all her pictures. I burnt them.

The next day, no more images of her.

But later I found this portrait.

In the attic.

My cousin painted it when she was 17.

He sold it to me.

It's the only souvenir I have left.

You want me to get rid of it?

No, that won't be necessary.

Why are you sleeping with me?

Because you're old.

Because...

you look like a bum.

Because you're mysterious

and I want to penetrate your mystery.

That's not enough.

Because I'm a lost girl.

And you'll never abandon me.

I'll pull off your mask

and I'll make a prince of you.

How was the sea?

Any sun?

I barely went out. I wrote.

Did you finish your script?

I can't remember.

Wonderful!

Time to celebrate...

Yeah.

Celebrate what?

My retrospective!

What are you doing, sir?

Sir?

I'm celebrating my success.

You can't consume personal beverages aboard.

I bought this bottle at the shop in the airport.

It's perfectly legal.

Look, the bag is sealed.

You can drink it at home, not here.

I'll bring you champagne shortly.

I get nervous before take-off.

I need a drink now!

I don't need it now.

Besides, she'll bring us some.

You're my friend.

I don't want you drinking cheap champagne.

If you open that bottle,

I'll have to call security.

You think I'm a convert?

A convert?

Do I look like a terrorist?

That I'll hijack this plane with champagne corks?

I have to ask you to get off the plane.

Don't be silly. Bring me two glasses.

She's taking it really badly.

I didn't need champagne.

Don't be a sheep, Ismael.

That hurts me.

You must show more pride.

I won't bow down

in a fucking orange jumpsuit,

giving my neck to whoever is out to slaughter.

She won't slaughter us.

This is a tragic era.

I'll get glasses because that bitch disappeared.

Henri, they'll kick us off.

Him.

Hello, sir.

Mademoiselle has jihadi tendencies.

I will no longer speak to that fanatic.

You've insulted the crew.

The plane cannot take off.

Look, I've gained weight,

but I have no suicide vest.

You don't do that on a plane.

But I'm Jewish!

Unarmed!

I don't need to know your religion.

You're wrong.

An old Jew won't blow up your plane.

Where are my glasses?

You're going too far.

Follow us.

My friend is elderly.

We spent an hour at security. We're exhausted.

Enough.

Tell them who I am.

This is Henri Bloom, the director.

All right?

Before this, he survived the occupation.

I didn't survive it. I combat-ted it.

I joined the Resistance at 16.

I went underground.

He was in the Algerian desert with the ALN in '56.

My apartment was blown up by an OAS bomb.

I'd gone out for bread.

- I understand... - No, you don't.

I'm not the one who sets off bombs!

I'm their target.

Since I was born, I'm the target,

not the executioner.

Now all I want is peace!

Did you write my homage?

I did it.

Come lay your head on my heart.

Please.

Good evening.

Welcome to the Tel Aviv Film Festival.

I'm honored to introduce this man to you.

Henri Bloom has achieved what few artists nowadays do.

He has redefined our world.

He fought for us both literally and figuratively.

Now please welcome a true film hero,

my friend,

Henri Bloom.

Good evening.

Hello, miss.

All your films evoke the notion of absence.

Yes, of course.

Can you tell us more?

I can recite these lines

that have accompanied me for years.

"Hasn't it ever struck you at some turning point

that in what you've given

to those who are closest to you,

something was missing?

And not simply that something was missing,

but that there was something that left loved ones...

irremediably missed by you.

The being

which suddenly

you can be reminded of by some accident,

of which death is clearly...

what makes us best understand

its full resonance.

This veritable being,

barely called to mind,

has already fled.

Yet it is this being

that you are attempting to join

along the paths of your desire.

But this being

is yours!

But at least here you are at the level of your fault,

and your failure reflects it exactly!

Carlotta came back.

What?

Carlotta is alive.

Bloom's daughter is alive?

Does he know?

Not yet.

Will you tell him?

No, it would kill him.

Oh, these others...

if only you had treated them like objects,

whose weight we favor,

their taste

and substance too.

Today you'd be less troubled by their memories.

You'd have given them their due,

homage,

love."

My name is Carlotta Bloom, and I'm back.

Excuse me?

I'm back.

You can put my name back in your register.

I don't understand. Put your name in what register?

I don't know...

There must be a register for the living.

You have a register for the dead.

I'm a missing person.

Missing persons is that counter there.

Did you lose someone?

Don't talk to me.

You look like my wife.

Look somewhere else!

What's your name?

Carlotta Bloom.

Double O.

Like the director?

I'm his daughter.

How long have you been declared missing for?

I don't know.

Anything in your files?

You were judged "absent" in court eight years ago.

- By whom? - The magistrate.

At the request of Ismael Vuillard.

Your husband.

What must I do?

Have the Ministére Public nullify the judgment.

You'll get back your estate as is.

Can I get my husband back?

No, the former missing person's marriage remains nullified.

I've run away...

to the city of my birth.

Here I am, finally home.

And I am in exile.

No river here.

But the canal blocks the city.

A filthy, stinking canal.

Swamps stagnate under the streets.

Nothing should ever be built on such unhealthy ground.

One thousand years later,

the water is still rotting, oozing...

Emanations,

humidity,

cold.

The people here are ugly, defeated.

For years I haven't seen my face in a mirror.

I feel at peace.

Are the actors here?

Yes, they are.

Watching the dailies?

You okay? lsmael's not here?

We're all waiting.

- No director. - First time.

- He's not home? - He slept out.

Who has he slept with?

Who is he screwing? Actress, script girl?

Do your job, dammit!

He overslept in some broad's bed.

- Is Faunia here? - In make-up.

Faunia! Here you are!

What did I say? Get out!

Are we alone?

Just me.

Faunia, I have some good news and some bad.

To start with the good news: No rewrites today.

Now the bad.

Ismael isn't here.

Sorry to ask so bluntly.

- Where is he? - I have no idea.

Nonsense, sweetie.

I saw him last night.

- Did he drink? - I'm not a cop.

Sorry.

Have you had sex?

ZWV, please!

When did you leave?

At dawn.

Why?

He disappeared. I checked his apartment.

It's empty-

He escaped?

He must be with Sylvia. So tell me.

Where can I find Sylvia?

Sylvia left him.

I'm at 160 beats a minute.

I measured the oxygenation of my blood.

It's like I have sleep apnea.

So my rest is the opposite of rest.

Is it alcohol-related?

It could be a form of epilepsy, but it's very rare.

I read there's a gene that causes nightmares.

HLA DQB1-05.

Can we see if my DNA has that gene?

You're exhausted.

I can prescribe you some lorazepam or diazepam.

You'll sleep heavily.

It suppresses sleep stages two and three.

It will really help.

I don't want to sleep at all.

Or else, sever my hypothalamus...

Excuse me?

I don't want to dream.

You must sever my hypothalamus.

I'm not severing anything.

I can Pay-

It's not about money.

What I can do is... try to inject you with dopamine

before you fall asleep.

I'll do it myself.

What does dopamine do?

It feeds the nightmare gland. It'll soothe you.

Really?

But you must sleep in the hospital. It must be supervised.

I won't go to the hospital.

Is Ivan here?

No.

I went to high school with him.

Still a diplomat?

Yes.

KHUJAND PRISON, TAJIKISTAN

So how did it go?

Very well.

Who did you meet?

- Prisoners. - Political?

As well.

When will you get a license?

You look like a bum.

Give me your gum.

Mr. Dedalus?

The new security chief is waiting in your office.

Good afternoon.

You kept the same combination as before?

Better to change it, so I did.

Memorize the new code and destroy this.

Here.

Sorry, this is a little embarrassing.

I see you opened the safe.

I couldn't resist.

I've done drugs since I was a teen.

I wouldn't want my habit to be a problem for work.

It depends.

- What kind of drugs? - Hash or weed.

Maybe LSD on the weekend.

You don't carry it on you.

You carry it on you?

That's not smart.

Sorry to be prosaic.

If I don't find any here, what do I do?

Have it sent by diplomatic pouch to the embassy.

Got a friend to send it?

Yes... in Roubaix.

A gray one.

And a brown one.

So listen, I met...

What?

Where are you going?

I think we're bugged.

- So let's remove them. - No!

They'll get upset and make it worse.

- Who? - The Tajik police!

Being bugged is part of your job, my love.

Arielle! What's wrong?

- What is it? - Look.

They wanted us to know they came. It's terrifying.

These aren't Tajik mics.

Nice stuff.

They cost a fortune in the States.

Never saw this model here.

Maybe the Tajiks went modern.

Probably.

Who would plant mics here?

This week you went to the Khujand prison.

Yes.

Did you see this man?

I'm not sure.

It's an old photo.

It's Imam Farias.

Who's Farias?

One of the most wanted men in the world.

Arrested during the first Afghan war.

He was 25.

Every agency has traded him.

He's known every prison and detention camp.

We lost track of him.

You're the first Westerner to see him in 20 years.

What did you discuss?

That man has lost his mind.

He couldn't remember his own name.

Ivan, how many lives have you had?

Like everyone.

Meaning?

Two... or three?

You're in room three.

Did you give me telescope hours?

Yes, starting tonight.

See you later.

I'll tear off your mask.

I'll make of you...

a Prince!

Here.

Celia, come. Leave the man alone.

Faunia?

Yes.

You came to get me to finish the film! No!

I didn't come.

I'm just in your thoughts.

I like being in your thoughts.

I remember

the first time I slept with you.

It wasn't really out of pleasure.

Was it a duty?

A little. Eric and I had just finished art school.

Oh, yes! You two were so arrogant.

Just stupid.

We said we had to meet actresses

because we'd need them for our films.

You were a prude.

You're still a prude.

I'd taken an oath to sleep with an actress!

Even if I was to discover there's nothing to discover.

Little upstart!

To think people see us like prostitutes.

You were no saint.

I never wanted to be.

Definitely not.

I was so bored when we went out.

I was terrified.

You didn't say a word.

Or else I didn't understand what you were talking about.

And you let me come upstairs.

Then you pulled away.

Yes, I did.

You take up a lot of space.

Sometimes I have to run away to exist a little.

Me, a lot of space?

My love,

you're a cancer.

You metastasize all over.

And grow inside me.

At the end of a week,

I speak like you,

I think like you,

I become you.

What is it like?

Very pleasant.

But dangerous.

I'm afraid to disappear.

Do like me.

How so?

I disappeared ages ago. I don't miss myself.

Liar!

Look at your films. You're all over.

But I'm nowhere.

It's you who's all over the screen,

with your face as big as a mountain.

You're all over the screen,

everywhere.

Sorry, my job is to disappear

and I think I'm good at it.

Remember my motto?

What a snob.

"I go forward, masked."

Don't be my enemy.

Poor darling.

You don't need an enemy.

No one hurts you like you do.

How do we not hurt ourselves?

I don't know.

I was born to survive.

That's all I know.

That's what being an actress is.

I couldn't hurt a strand of my hair, or a fingernail.

Whatever I'm acting, whoever I love.

You...

You use whatever you find, from dawn to dusk,

to hurt yourself.

You endure it. You continue.

I feel bad for you.

All you can do is hurt yourself.

And that's such a waste of time.

Only Sylvia knows how to stop you.

You didn't ring?

Would you have opened?

I figured you'd come out sooner or later.

Want my coffee?

Your parents' house?

My great-aunt's.

How did you find me?

With your credit card receipts.

I promised your banker I'd pay the overdraft.

How are you?

Well, I have a film on hold.

Insurance stops next week.

The producer wants you dead.

I lied to the actors to save your reputation.

Same as usual.

- You didn't give my address? - Never!

I want you to call Sylvia.

I'll make you eggs, sunny side up.

Did you see?

I bought hens.

Should I build a coop?

Finish your film.

I need you.

I'd like you to need me.

Is it the subject? You're afraid of the subject.

How long have I been making movies?

My assistants or the producer can finish. I won't go back.

Whatever you say.

I'll belt you, put you in my trunk and take you back.

You're weaker and you hate fights.

Maybe.

But you've been drinking.

I'm armed.

I doubt you could shoot.

You like me.

You're old, my friend!

We're both old!

All you can do is direct. You're too old to change!

I could teach. Literature.

You'll never find a school. Or a student.

I'm in poor health. I won't be around long.

Guess again! It can go on forever! Look at me!

For decades I've sworn never to work with you again

and here I am in your yard, chasing after fucking hens!

Come closer!

Closer.

1437.

1434.

The invention of perspective in the Occident.

In the North.

And the South.

What's the point?

Look.

Different perspectives.

They thought they had one universal system,

but in fact there were two.

From Holland to Italy...

there was an incredible force-field!

An incredible hate which destroys everything.

I'm not a Jew you can piss off.

Screw your Christian guilt.

If we understood the logic of it,

it would annihilate all hate.

Ismael...

it's time to go back to Paris.

My brother Ivan died.

Sweetie.

My father raised me alone...

As a child,

it was Jacob and Esau who scared me.

The brutal older brother.

Birthright.

And Ivan, when he was 20,

said he'd lived his childhood in fear of becoming Joseph.

Stoned by his brothers,

forced into exile.

Look.

I think my brother was afraid of me.

Here in France, Ivan was unhappy.

No girlfriend, no...

Nothing.

A very withdrawn young man.

He learned languages. That was his gift.

So he chose exile.

It's the word he used. I remember

his voice, speaking to my father.

"I chose exile."

Where did he go?

Egypt

Like in the Bible, land of the pharaohs!

He learned Arabic.

When did he die?

Five years ago.

I never knew.

I never spoke of it.

He'd left Cairo.

Worked in Ethiopia.

My father went there to bring back the body.

It was too damaged.

They buried him there.

- Ever see his grave? - Never.

I hate traveling.

Finish the film.

For your brother.

Save it for cheap novels!

He became a dumb civil servant in Addis Ababa.

He hated me since we were kids.

I'm the one our father hit.

Fucking Ivan got spared the worst. He never knew it.

I left for my great-aunt's at 11.

Trust me, he never missed me!

An homage to Ivan, my film? Bullshit!

It's the novel of the brother I never had.

An homage to myself if I had been my brother!

I'm exhausted.

I'm exhausted.

Ivan's dead now and...

I won't invent his life anymore.

You won't sleep here?

My friend, you scare me too much.

I don't sleep well at night.

Come on... stay.

Please.

It's dirty here. It's terrifying.

Come with me to a hotel.

I can't.

I'll pay.

I can't. You'll come back tomorrow?

Yes.

So this is right up your alley.

Stars and stuff.

Yeah, right up my alley.

Of course you know all their names.

A few.

A thousand... ten thousand.

A hundred thousand.

You like things like infinity?

Love it.

It doesn't impress me at all.

God, you don't scare me!

I'm not impressed at all.

You hear?

I hold you in no esteem whatsoever.

Do you have an Ivan Vuillard there?

The Egyptian embassy gave me your number.

He's alive?

Yes, I sent a Skype request.

Grand Hétel de Roubaix. Zwy Ashomer.

Just like it sounds.

Ivan!

Zwy!

I'm happy to see you.

In good health.

Why do you say that?

No reason.

I came to see your brother.

He was worried about you.

So I got scared stupidly.

I don't get it.

Why this call? What is it?

ls my brother dead?

No, he's very well.

Very, very well.

But he fled to Roubaix.

He left me with a stalled film.

He's become crazy.

He hasn't become crazy.

My parents kicked him out when he was 11.

That says a lot.

Sure... but I now have a real production problem.

Look, here we have real political problems.

What the hell do I care about your film?

There are huge amounts of money at stake.

Is my brother ridiculing our family again?

Whose tum is it now?

Yours.

It's a sort of portrait,

romanticized, of a diplomat.

Ivan, come back!

That prick is out to ruin my life

and you want me to help?

My whole life I flee that piece of shit

and you call.

Just give him a little call.

Ismael doesn't have a phone.

Such a sensitive soul.

Call on mine and I'll put him on.

I'm not asking you to convince him. Just call.

He's my friend. He wants to hear your voice.

You can insult him. I don't care.

Just call him.

I've burnt my vessels...

What?

I've burnt my vessels!

Why did you choose me?

Why did you choose me?

I'm going crazy?

No.

I'm in hell?

Yes.

Are you the devil?

I'm the last person who can help you.

Liar!

Go away!

Hello, Mr. Bloom!

- How are you doing? - Great.

One red pepper.

Will that be all?

No!

Go away!

Go away!

Hello?

This is Henri Bloom.

I need to speak to Ismael immediately.

Hello, miss?

Ismael isn't here, Mr. Bloom.

I see my daughter outside, out the window.

She cannot be alive.

She came back.

I saw her. At the sea. We spoke. She stayed with us.

Why didn't she come to see me?

I don't know, sir.

Ismael was afraid to tell you.

No, it's too late now.

I'm too old.

She's no longer my daughter.

But you're still her father.

Miss...

I'm going to die.

You're not going to die!

Go see her! What are you waiting for?

I understand that she's afraid, but aren't you brave?

I'm an old man.

I loved Carlotta and I mourned her.

And now...

Ismael, it's me!

Open up.

Hello, sir. Can we help you?

Yesterday my friend was sick.

He's not waking up.

I'll break a window pane.

Don't hurt yourself.

Ma'am, please...

Be careful!

I'm fine...

I think I fainted.

I spoke to Ivan.

Why tell me he was dead?

I don't know.

I guess so you'd be moved. I was moved.

Really?

Did he take it badly?

He says to him you're dead.

No longer his brother.

He's been saying that for 20 years.

It gives us some time.

Come on.

The producers don't understand the Czech dailies.

Your editor is at a loss: No dialogue!

The sound man was a prick!

Fire whoever you want.

All we see are silhouettes with moving lips!

For voice-over scenes.

Just add a narrator.

I'm not adding a thing.

Let the editor add narration.

Who's the narrator?

Claverie.

The scene where Ivan is hired.

The old unctuous guy.

Claverie. He was stationed in Warsaw under Gierek.

Everyone thought he was a mole.

- A communist mole? - But it wasn't true!

Intel found nothing.

So Claverie ended up mothballed.

A mere pencil pusher.

After Dushanbe, Ivan gets moved to...

Prague.

When he gets there,

who greets him with a wolfish smile?

Claverie!

Ambassador once again!

Ivan starts his humdrum civil servant life,

but...

he still has a knack for languages.

He wants to learn Romani.

So he hangs around beggars.

The beggar woman.

What does she tell him?

"Your mother's cunt." An insult, no sound needed.

The security guy hates Ivan because he has no cell phone.

You must be reachable!

I can always call the embassy from a pay phone.

A gift.

And there in Prague, Ivan meets...

his Russian.

Imagine

a Jackson Pollock exhibit in Prague.

His first in an Eastern-bloc country.

The Americans invite every embassy, to show off.

Ivan is there,

alone in front of Lavender Mist.

And this Russian sits next to him,

a little drunk on champagne.

They start talking about Pollock.

- Saying? - That's he's figurative.

Pollock?

They're compressed images, always the same.

His family, his dog,

his mother,

the brother he hated.

Lavender Mist is all the women he could never touch.

Not Lee Krasner, but gentle, tender women.

Nipples, shoulders,

lips, vaginas.

Thirty female nudes, all stuck together.

A reprise oi Demoiselles d'Avignon.

Both men speak in front of the painting.

The Russian understands it all.

He says he loves him, they're brothers,

he wrote a PhD in Moscow!

The brothers' names appear all over.

Consonants, vowels, knives!

Pollock's rape in front his brother.

How awful.

Yes, he had a sad life.

In the museum, the men become friends.

Are you French?

You're not Czech?

I'm Russian.

Then you put in the roof scene.

They look at Prague, the night, the stars.

The Russian's wife, the two children playing.

The Russian gives Ivan a present.

A coffee machine or a teddy bear for Arielle.

F" You'.!

A Russian bear!

And I shot the rest.

I drank so much I think I'm going to die!

You drunkard!

Yes, love me.

Love me!

Vanya...

my heart, full of gratitude.

Why?

I published an article in a Moscow review.

Jackson Pollock!

Now, I've become...

very famous in my country thanks to you!

Thanks to our talk!

I'm thrilled.

We must both share the money.

What money?

That I made with the article.

I don't want money, Igor.

Are you my friend?

Sure I'm your friend.

So you must share my joy!

He's Russian. He gave me a lot of money.

How much?

100,000 euros.

We just talked painting.

These were his other gifts.

Plastic flowers for me.

A coffee machine.

A teddy bear.

Not to offend him.

You're both irresponsible!

Ivan is giving you the name of a secret agent

that you didn't spot.

He's exposed, as it were.

We'll nab this scumbag.

They follow the Russian through Prague.

Pretend to bump into him.

My men at the Slavia café are watching.

IQOr!

Follow me!

I don't want you to die.

I'm not dying, honey.

Wake up! I don't want you to die!

You married me, so live!

What is this crap?

A Russian blows up in Prague and no idea who did it?

The Russians maybe.

I have Moscow on my ass. They want my head.

He was probably an FSB agent.

Igor wasn't FSB. Just an ordinary employee.

100,000 euros, what Igor left, is far from ordinary.

You're precious, Ivan.

Now tell me what you know and what that sum buys.

I don't know what I know!

I wanted to ask, but he got killed first!

My husband is a spy.

What?

My husband is a spy!

That guy at the Khujand prison.

Who?

His name was Farias.

Igor wanted Farias.

Save my husband!

Who did Igor work for? Who did he call?

I have no idea!

Who did Igor work for?

Who do you work for?

I don't know!

- What did he want? - No idea!

Who do you work for?

My God!

Don't touch me!

I hurt you! I'm sorry!

Stay away, you old schnook!

Don't cry for me.

It'll hurt on three. One, two...

There we go.

I got the bullet.

Clean wound.

Sedate him before we all die.

I won't congratulate you.

I'm sorry.

- I was over-enthused... - Shut up!

He'll survive.

You in pain?

You're coming undone, Vuillard.

He won't suffocate?

No way. He's used to this. He's a solid smoker!

Because I think he's kicking.

You'll finish this film!

He'll finish it.

You hear me? You'll finish it!

You'll finish it!

Zwy!

Feeling better?

Yes, much better, thanks. And you?

Straight through the muscle to the radius.

I may never be able to bend my elbow!

I'm so embarrassed!

You better be.

I called Sylvia.

Insurance covers the two-week break.

It's time to write.

Sylvia said you like working here.

I know you're angry and in pain, but can you untie me?

- Don't leave me. - She'll be here soon.

Don't leave me!

Zwy!

Sorry.

No way! You shot your line producer?

Yes.

Will you keep me prisoner?

Yes!

My love!

My love.

The Bloom girl is here.

I'll see her. The patient has refused family visits.

She's already there.

Ma'am...

Are you his doctor?

There is no visiting.

How is he?

Does he have his head?

He was calm when he woke up.

Is he warm enough?

Yes, ma'am.

You must leave now.

Your father needs calm.

I'll wait.

I won't speak to him.

Go home.

We'll call you with news.

I'll wait till he wakes up.

Father!

Do you recognize me?

You are a spirit, I know.

When did you die?

I'm not dead.

- He doesn't recognize me. - He's waking up.

Leave him a bit.

Where are my hands?

Where are my hands?

Leave me alone!

Ten milligrams of Valium.

He's tied up at night.

You have five minutes, then you must go.

Father?

Feel my forehead.

I want you to bless me.

I'm an old man.

Do not mock me if I don't know where I am.

You're in the hospital.

And you'll get better.

I think I recognize you.

You're my child?

It's me.

You're crying'?

There's no reason to cry.

No, none.

Do you understand me?

You mean can I hear you?

Yes, I hear you well.

No, I mean...

am I making sense?

Sometimes I get confused.

You're perfectly clear, Dad.

Why do you ask?

Why are there all these doctors

and all these nurses running in and out of my room,

as if there is an emergency?

You know they had to insert a pacemaker for your heart?

Yes, that's what I mean.

How old am I?

Eighty-three.

So what's the emergency?

Enough!

It's natural.

If a child is sick,

that's an emergency.

But running in and out of my room

just because an 83-year-old man

is dying...

is no emergency.

It's ugly to behave like that.

They're just doing their job.

Inserting a pacemaker has become a standard procedure.

So I have no choice?

I don't know.

Tell them to stop.

That's not my job.

You're wondering how it ended?

Bloom died...

and his daughter left.

Ismael mourned his friend for a while.

He thought that Bloom was... indestructible.

He liked living in his shadow,

like under a tree.

He still travels the world to show his films.

Ismael never mentions Bloom to me.

Because the sobs come back.

One day,

during the spring,

my period stopped.

And I thought...

with great sadness,

that age had caught up to me.

And then...

I was expecting a child.

Ismael is overjoyed.

He keeps counting on his fingers

how old he'll be when our child is 15.

He loves to say

that we'll be elderly parents.

Last week,

I visited my brother in the clinic where he is staying.

I told him the news.

"I'm pregnant."

Pierre made a strange face.

Then he smiled.

I think he thought it was the right thing to do.

I took his hand

and put it on my belly.

I watched Pierre, surprised.

He looked at my belly

and understood

he's not my child anymore.

In one fell swoop, he lost a mother

and a wife.

He felt...

great anger.

But my brother's tenderness

and his desire to protect me are so strong,

that he hid his feelings.

But I saw.

I saw his jealousy.

His disarray.

Life has come to me.

I'm pregnant with lsmael's child.

Working?

Yes, working again.

Again...

Again.

Subtitles: Andrew Litvack

Subtitling: HIVENTY