All language subtitles for En.therapie.S01E12.1080p.BluRay.DD+5.1.x264-SbR_track4_[eng]

Did I scare you? The door was open.

Next time I’d rather come
to fetch you from the waiting room.

Okay, I get it.

Sorry, Doctor.

IN THERAPY

ADEL – TUESDAY, DECEMBER 1, 2015, 10 A.M.

I’ve got lots to tell you.
Where to start?

Say whatever comes to mind.

Well, it’s pretty funny because...

I got the day wrong.

I came yesterday.

You were in such a hurry to come back?

You’re flattered.

No, I just got mixed up.
That’s not like me.

In fact, I was wondering.

- Could it be the drugs you prescribed?
- No.

They cause
neither confusion nor sleepiness.

- You needn’t worry.
- I think they do.

- Before we start the session...
- We’ve already started.

Anyway, I have to tell you
what happened when I came yesterday.

So you don’t tell me off later.

I’m listening.

I met another patient.

She’s cute.

You know who I mean?

A real hottie coming out of here.
We almost bumped into each other.

I’d rather avoid any trouble with you.

What sort of trouble
do you think it could cause?

I don’t know, I’m new to this,
I don’t know the etiquette.

Can patients see each other?

I don’t think there are any rules.

Couldn’t it be awkward?

What if she reveals stuff to me, and
I tell you? Wouldn’t that be a problem?

For her therapy, I mean.

An absolute rule forbids me
revealing what is said in here.

We mentioned that last week.

But there’s nothing to stop you
saying whatever you like.

Even about my relationship
with the hottie?

Yes, even about that.

What if we were talking about you?

That’s your right.

Okay.

That’s clear, then.

We can start.

I’d like to discuss the fact
that you came early yesterday.

What do you mean?

It’s said that nothing is accidental.

I won’t drone on about Freudian slips,
but you came a day early. Why?

What was on your mind?
What does it mean, like it or not?

I was keen to see you,

to brag about how I aced it
with the police shrink.

Since that attack
on the kosher supermarket,

we see a shrink
after every dangerous intervention.

She keeps a close eye on us.

It’s always the same one,
and she doesn’t much like seeing us.

What makes you think that?

We see her as a group.

Imagine the room,

with flickering neon lights,
yellowed floor tiles...

She arrives at 9 a.m.,
we’re straight out of the gym,

there are 10 of us, she’s alone...

- Can you imagine it?
- Yes.

We’re winding each other up, joking,
lots of banter...

And she takes notes.
I’d like to know what!

She’s there to spot
potential burnout cases.

Thanks to you, I conned her.

What do you mean by that?

The stick-up of the century!

I let her lead me on
in the free-association thing,

giving her this image of a guy
who’s shaken up but strong.

I think she liked me.

What did you have to hide
with this “conning”?

So many things.

That I’m seeing you, for a start.

It’s not in our squad’s mindset.
I don’t want her thinking I’m ill.

I’m fine.

I don’t want her knowing
about the medication either.

How did this session go?

Did you all speak? One after the other?

About your feelings?

She tried, but we weren’t
very cooperative. You with me?

At one point
that dunce Vince said,

“Your face in the Bataclan,
I thought you might piss yourself!”

A common enough expression.

Does it have
a particular significance for you?

The others wind me up about it.

I always go to the bog
before an operation.

Sometimes we’re on a stake-out
for hours.

In a car you can piss in a bottle,
although that’s not exactly easy.

Ever tried it?

No.

In any case, when it looks
like we could be there for hours,

it sounds stupid
but I always think to go.

Just before going in the Bataclan
I thought, “What if I need a piss?”

But I put my hand on Vince’s shoulder,
he was in front of me in the column,

I felt Pascal’s hand on my shoulder,
and we moved forward.

No thinking of anything else.

As if your body could let you down.

As if, despite your training and
expertise, it could ruin the operation.

What are you thinking?

As a kid I wet the bed
until I was quite old.

Meaning?

Twelve.

It drove my dad mad,
so my mom hid it from him.

She’d change the sheets while
I got washed. We didn’t mention it.

I waited to grow out of it.

Every night I made a wish
before going to sleep.

I swear, Doctor, I was begging.

“Not tonight, please!”

And every time it was the same feeling.

A nice warm feeling at first,
and then being all cold and wet.

Sometimes I’d be okay for a few days
or weeks, I’d think it was over,

then, bam! It started again.

So I could never stay overnight
at a friend’s house.

I had a plastic undersheet.

The shame!

You didn’t see anyone?

Like a shrink, you mean?

- Not my family’s style.
- Or a doctor?

There are treatments for enuresis.

Anyway, that’s all behind me now.

Never needed it for my own kids.
My son’s not like that at all.

What sort of child
does suffer enuresis, would you say?

I don’t know. Not my son, anyway.

He’s an amazing kid.

That’s the other thing
I wanted to tell you.

I’ve left my wife.

Don’t look like that.
When I decide, I don’t wait!

It’s not your fault,
even though our talk helped.

I remember encouraging you
not to make any drastic decisions.

I know.

But in a way
I’d already made up my mind.

That’s what my wife said.

She was sad.

But she kept it to herself,
stayed calm, didn’t make a scene.

She said she’d seen it coming
for a long time.

She’s an amazing woman.

My kids get it from her.

She’s strong.

She just asked me
to tell the kids myself.

She didn’t want them thinking
it’s her fault when it’s mine.

And she’s right.

Have you already talked to them?

Not yet, but I will.

You haven’t examined your separation,

any more than you’ve examined
what you experienced in the Bataclan.

You said you saw all that death,
that horror,

and then, just silence.

You announce that you’re leaving
your wife, and then again, silence.

What do you want her to do,
drag me back?

No, I want you to talk to her.

We did talk.

About how to get organized
with the kids.

It’s easy. She’ll have them,

and I’ll see them when I can,
some weekends.

In my job
shared custody just isn’t possible.

But I’ll be there for her,
with money too, it’s not a problem.

Physically, how are you organizing it?

For now I’m staying
with a buddy from the squad, Vince.

I mentioned him earlier.

We joined at the same time.
He was in the army before, he’s a beast!

He can practically lift the shield
with one hand.

It weighs 70 kilos.

He’s hard, but he’s a real friend.

I sleep in his guest room,
where he has all his weights.

There’s plenty of beer in the fridge.

It’s nice to be able
to chill a bit, Doctor.

The life of a single man!

On Saturday I took my son for a walk,
“just us men”.

I wanted him to get used
to it being just the two of us.

Spending some time with him.

Did he ask why you’re not there?

I’m not there a lot. It’s not been
long enough yet for him to notice.

I’m sure he’s worked it out, though.
He’s a clever boy.

Did I tell you he’s doing
computer programming?

But for the separation
you can’t escape telling your children.

You can’t rely on them working it out.

I’m not!

I’ll talk to them when the time’s right.
That’s not yet.

I wanted him to do sport,
not be on his computer all the time.

I enrolled him for judo and so on.

A boy shouldn’t be inside all the time.

But a girl should?

I don’t know.

My daughter’s younger,
and girls are quieter, aren’t they?

But you say your son is quiet
and likes indoors activities.

Okay, you got me!

Let’s say that I think a boy
should be doing stuff with his body.

I tried to push him into that,
but he didn’t like it.

I accepted it.

But he’s got a real gift.

He’s a thousand times cleverer than me.
Really.

I took him along the quay in Paris
where all the pet shops are.

He loves animals.

That made him happy.

We bought this funny little canary.

I saw it after work the other day,
when I was stuck in traffic.

I was outside this pet shop,
and I saw it there in its cage.

That had stayed in my head
after our last talk.

So I suggested to Julien that we buy it
and take it to my dad in Aubervilliers.

Did you intend to go
and see your father from the start?

No, it was just...

I wanted to spend time with my son.

The bird made me think of my dad.

Julien was happy to see his granddad.
Two birds with one stone.

My old man gets on well with my son.
He was pleased to see him.

He sat him down in the kitchen,

and gave him a brioche,

while moaning about bad bread,
bad bakers, the bad weather...

Julien asked him questions
and he was happy.

I let them talk.

This flat where your father lives

isn’t where you grew up,
because that was in Bordeaux.

No, but...

My parents sold the bakery in Bordeaux
and moved there.

It’s like my mom transported
the entire place.

The same ornaments,
the same color walls,

the furniture arranged the same...

I see her everywhere there.

She was a wonderful woman.

Strong.

Like your wife?

Meaning

You’ve used the same adjective
about both.

Yeah?

Maybe.

They’re not really alike, though.

My mom would sing all day long.

She had a great voice.

She could have been a pro,
but my dad needed her in the shop.

And later on he just needed her.

My mom...

spread beauty all around her.

She and my dad barely spoke.

They were like colleagues,
each with their own tasks and timetable.

Colleagues at the bakery,
colleagues in bringing me up...

Three 8-hour shifts without meeting.

I’m hearing echos in your words.

The lack of communication in a couple,
the timetables out of synch...

Respect rather than love.

You mean I’m repeating
my parents’ situation?

That shows you don’t know my dad.

I may be absent
but I don’t have a heart of stone.

I’m not saying the situations
are identical.

The difference is that I’m not staying
after the love has gone.

You spotted that bird during the week.

Maybe you were unconsciously seeking
a pretext to go and see him.

He didn’t want it anyway.
Like, “What am I meant to do with that?”

My son kept it and Audrey is furious.

I haven’t heard the last of that.

What were you expecting
from that visit to your father?

Not a discussion, obviously.
You left that task to your son.

Let’s say I was doing
a little investigation

into this thing about speaking Arabic.

- You know how to do an investigation.
- Yeah.

There’s testimony
and there’s material evidence.

My dad hasn’t changed the flat
since my mom died.

He’s not the sentimental type, though,
he’s more of a pragmatist.

I suppose he just thought,
“Why change it if it doesn’t bother me?”

I wanted to see the photos.

There are lots of family photos.

They’ve always been there
but I’ve never really looked.

My maternal grandparents,
who I never knew,

sitting in their café in Normandy.

Photos of me at school,

my parents getting married, and so on.

But above all
I had a memory of one photo.

I wanted to check.

Yes?

It’s of me as a kid.

It’s the summer when I was six,
because my two top front are missing.

I lost them late
and I was really proud of that gap.

I’m sitting on this stone wall.

My dad’s sitting next to me, so young.

It almost pained me
to see him like that.

Younger than I am now.

His hair’s quite long, with a mustache,
wearing a leather jacket.

And he’s smiling.

He looks happy.

I don’t know who took it.

The background is a bit desert-like,

with mountains in the background,
and a blue sky.

Do you know where this photo was taken?

In Ksar El Boukhari.

Algeria?

So you did go to Algeria
with your father.

You know the name of that place.

That photo of you in your father’s
homeland was never hidden from you.

You grew up with it before your eyes.

Yet you thought
you’d never been to Algeria.

I think that this rediscovery,

which you made at your father’s place,

which concerns your family’s history,
is the real subject of this session.

You were in such a hurry to share it

that you even came a day early
to tell me about it.

And I think the fact of you coming

shows your commitment
to the work we’re doing here.

Outside here
you’re working on the material evidence,

doing an investigation, as you say,

then you bring here your findings,
your doubts, and your words.

So that we can shed light
on them together,

so that we can make sense of them.

This session’s focus is that photo,

which shows, as you just said,

a smiling man, although you describe him
as harsh and withdrawn,

in a country
you thought you’d never been to.

Whose language you do speak.

Something you hid with your “conning”.

You, me, all of us...

we spend our lives conning ourselves.

Sometimes, when something moves us,

if we’re able to grasp the opportunity,

we see through the con, a little bit.

Okay.

All right, I have been to Algeria.
I just forgot, okay?

Who gives a fuck?

Anyway, I’m doing all right.

Especially since I met Ariane,

your pretty little patient.

When I saw her at your door,
I was like, wow!

I didn’t expect
such a sudden effect from a woman.

I haven’t always been faithful
to my wife, I hope you’re not shocked.

In the squad we tend to stick together.
Well, we work the same hours.

Our wives can’t keep tabs on us.

And we drink together,
whatever’s happened.

A successful arrest, we party.

Something goes wrong,
we console ourselves with a drink.

And some women are attracted
by our status and our guns.

Let’s get back to our subject.

We’re talking about it!

What goes on in the squad stays there.
Just like here.

But I have my principles.

I’ve never been with the same one twice.

And no feelings, nothing serious.

Out of respect for my wife and family.

You can feel love coming on.

I don’t believe in love at first sight.
It needs time.

If I think I’m falling for a woman,
I stop it right away.

You do it then, or it’s too late.

If I’d ever done that to my wife
I’d have felt dirty.

Do you understand?

But it’s different now.

I’m separated.

And I’m not talking about love, just...

the pleasure of an encounter.

I feel that she’s different.

I like her a lot.

She told me I’d got the wrong day.

I don’t always say I’m in the police.
You never know how people will react.

But she saw the gear in my trunk,
and I think it got her all excited.

And, I don’t know...
She was in a weird state leaving here.

I suppose
you can’t tell me anything about her?

You suppose right.

She was upset
about some cat getting run over.

Are you interested in what I’m saying?

Yes.

Well, I’ll keep it short.

She’d seen a cat run over,

and the taxi driver wouldn’t stop.

And she couldn’t stop thinking
about that poor thing dying somewhere.

So I gave her a lift.
- Where to?

To look for the cat.

A damsel in distress, looking for a cat,
what else could I do?

So...

we got in my car.

I thought, “She’s got balls,
getting into a stranger’s car.”

But she didn’t seem bothered at all.

I thought
she might be embarrassed that I knew

that she’s seeing a shrink,
more so than me.

It put you on the same wavelength.

But she told me
you wouldn’t allow her any extra time.

She seems like a woman
who gets what she wants, though.

Anyway,

I took her to where it happened,
we got to know each other...

I parked and we started looking.

It was drizzling.

She didn’t care,
she was only thinking about the cat.

There’s something about that woman.

Something courageous.

Well, you know her better than I do.

I don’t know how else to put it.

So she was looking,

and I was watching her
as her hair got all wet.

I wanted to help her.

You can’t just let an animal die
in the middle of Paris.

Carry on.

So we looked under the cars,

in the gutter,

everywhere the poor creature
could have hidden.

- Did you find it?
- No.

It must have hidden somewhere
to die in peace.

But the important thing
is that there was a happy ending.

Are you with me?

Yes.

Isn’t our time up?

No, we still have a few minutes.

She’s texted me.

We’re going to meet again.

I was wondering how to suggest it,
but she took the first step.

A woman of action, her too!

She calmly suggested having a drink
Thursday night.

It’s usually me
who does the asking out, but...

it’s quite nice.

What a woman, though!

You don’t mind me telling you all this?

Why should I mind?

I don’t know,
it’s a bit like me showing off.

We can change the subject.

Mr. Chibane,
I think that through this story

you’re telling me
you belong to the same family,

the family of my patients.

Ariane is a patient, you’re a patient.

I think you’re also testing the limits,
the boundaries, of this family,

this community,

to reassure yourself
about your place in it.

I can reassure you,
you have your place here.

And you’ve begun
some very important work.

Now we can talk about something else.

I am a bit worried
about seeing her, though.

What worries you?

It’s my first real date for 15 years.

Don’t laugh.

I’m not sure I know what to do.

And what do you think?

You know both of us, so...

without revealing any secrets,
but your intuition?

Could it work out between us?

- I can’t help you with that.
- You must have an idea.

You know stuff about me
that not even my wife knows.

I can’t give you seduction advice,
if that’s what you’re asking.

No, I can handle that side, thanks.
But I prefer to know if she’s nuts.

It’ll save time, if you get my drift.

Is she nuts?

Okay, I get it.

We’re all nuts to some extent
because we come here.

What’s your prediction?

Could it work between us?

Tell me what you think,
out of male solidarity!

Look, there’s no point insisting.

You must realize that..

I cannot give my opinion about
a relationship between two patients.

All I can do is listen to you.

I get it, but it’s a shame.

It’d save everyone lots of time.

Well, I’ll manage.
I’ll tell you about it next time.

Right.

She makes me laugh.

She’s asking if my session is over,
and says,

“I hope he won’t keep you any longer,
I’ll be jealous.”

Anyway, a tip for next time.

Turn the heating up a bit,
she thinks it’s freezing in here.

See you next week.