All language subtitles for En.therapie.S01E35.1080p.BluRay.DD+5.1.x264-SbR_track4_[eng]

- There you are.
- Yes.

You’re going out?

- See you later.
- Yes.

I’m going to see Ariane.

You know, my former Monday patient.

IN THERAPY

ESTHER – FRIDAY, JANUARY 8, 2016, 10 A.M.

I think I’ve had the flu.

Unless it was our last session
that totally did me in.

Sorry, I’ve been a bit messy lately.

This is even worse than usual.

Now that I’m single
I have no structure any more.

Is it your first time at a patient’s?

You’re no longer a patient, Ariane.

That’s true.

We can be less formal, then.

Do you want a drink?

I’m not sure what I’ve got.

I’ve got...

some lemonade.

And...

I was about to have a herbal tea.

was given it by a colleague
who’s into phytotherapy.

I’d like a glass of water.

Yes.

Thanks.

With me looking like a sick dog

and this bombsite,
I’m not doing well.

Not at all, this place is alive.
Like being in the mountains.

Really?

Like being in the mountains!

Did you go to that exhibition?

No, it was over.

But I saw the catalogue
in your waiting room,

so, having missed the show...

The colleague who gives you
the herbal remedies,

is that the male nurse,
or the salsa dancer

who wants you
as a notch on his bedpost?

What a memory!

No, José no longer needs to dream.

With that flu I needed warming up, so...

That was a joke.

No, the herbal tea
is from another surgeon. He’s gay.

The joke flopped.

- Don’t worry about it.
- I’m not.

Philippe, who am I to you?

I’m fed up of it being vague.

I’m no longer your patient.

But neither am I your mistress.

You can’t really say we’re friends.

That’s why I’m here.

So we can decide together.

I know what I want.

It’s you.

It’s you I want.

I no longer want to be the guinea pig
in Dr. Dayan’s lab.

Ariane.

I love you.

I came here to tell you that.

That I love you.

I want to be with you.

Yes, it’s better saying it like that
than over the phone!

Don’t you believe me?

It’s not empty words.

I’ll leave my wife and move out.
I’ve decided.

I’m not going to change my mind.

You don’t know that.

It’s logical for you to be wary.
I myself...

This isn’t a therapy session!

We’re not here to dissect my reactions.

What happened?

I’m the one asking the questions now.

What made you change your mind?

You.

I realized I might lose you,
and that just seemed unthinkable.

You always get over it.

- No.
- Yes.

I’m sure you’ve experienced it before.

You miss each other,
but then, with time, you move on.

I don’t want to move on.

I want our relationship to continue.

No, I want it to really start.

I want it to have a chance

because you brought me out of
a secret place I wasn’t even aware of.

I want this part of me to live.

I thought it was impossible,

too dangerous,
because you could cause my relapse.

The fear of unconscious repetition. No.

Weren’t you afraid
of the crushing image of your father?

That statue which could topple
and crush you like a pancake.

If you could see your face!

You don’t look like you’re here
to declare your ardor for your beloved.

More like you’re here
to fight Darth Vader.

I’m quite simply scared to death.

I’m scared too,

that I’m just another immature woman
seducing a mature man,

who’s experiencing
his last surge of desire.

I no longer want to use sex to...

to avoid feelings.

I want a full relationship.

An adult relationship!

I don’t want to be the last fling
of the old monkey

before he becomes resigned and wise.

Where does this old monkey come from?

I feel more like I’m on a museum shelf.

We have to stop talking.

Come in.

Is something wrong?

I screwed up.

Completely screwed up.

How could I?

I’m sorry. Thank you
for being here for me every time that...

reality explodes in my face.

I always end up here sobbing.

What’s happened?

- I went to Ariane.
- Her place?

I decided to have done
with the perverse game I was trapped in.

I went there to tell her I loved her.

And believe me,
your predictions were correct.

Meaning?

I think you foresaw it
and tried in vain to warn me.

Yes?

At first she didn’t believe me.

She’d lost all trust in me
after this roller-coaster of a ride.

Then we ended up in her bedroom.

Big mistake!

Hang on.

She didn’t believe you,

but you ended up in her bedroom?

Yes, that’s what happened.
I didn’t really understand it.

I tried to convince her
that I was sincere.

You got into her bed.
Isn’t that what you wanted?

Except that nothing happened.
I couldn’t.

You couldn’t?

I had an acute anxiety attack.

A real show!

Palpitations, dizziness,
troubled vision, the whole shebang.

I found myself lying on her bed,
soaked with sweat.

I had an absence seizure.

When I came to,
there she was, leaning over me.

- Did you explain?
- Explain what?

I think it spoke for itself.

I was so ashamed
I just ran away.

In any case, I’d already lost the game
with my hesitations, my half-truths...

As well as what I told her
about my father at Chibane’s funeral.

You saw her there?

I was really upset.
And Chibane’s father was there...

I think I associated death and guilt.

All it needed was my father
to finish off the trinity.

She said something to me

about the statue
falling and crushing me.

When? At the funeral?

No, in her living room.

Do you think she saw through me?

When she lured me into her bedroom
it felt like a trap.

I’m not following you.
Let’s take it slowly.

Can you tell me exactly what happened?

Do you realize?

Not only am I a bad shrink,
a deficient father, an awful husband,

but I’m not even able to act like...

a man.

The simplest thing
that any man would drool about:

sleeping with a gorgeous woman
20 years younger than me.

The number of times
I’ve dreamed of just that!

She was naked, there before me.

How could I fail so miserably?

There must be a very good reason.

I’ll disappoint you there,
it’s nothing to do with the ethics of therapy,

nor my marriage,
I can assure you of that.

I was just overcome
with this crippling anxiety.

Describe it exactly.

Go on!

A black hole.

I felt I was going to be swallowed up.

Buried.

Taken apart, piece by piece.

That anxiety attack came from you,
it belongs to you,

it is you.

So?

What do I take away from it,

apart from an awareness
of my profound cowardice?

I think that abrupt
and destabilizing shutdown

came from the best part of you.

That’s an interpretation to counter
your own gloomy self-portrayal.

To console me?

To make you assess
the divided nature of your desire.

Does division work
as a theoretical argument?

On one side,
your desire to sleep with Ariane,

on the other, the brutal strategy
you implement to stop yourself.

A gulf of anxiety opening up
beneath your feet.

It’s the other side
of your desire for Ariane.

You have to look for that
in the ethics of your practice.

Let’s say this fit of anxiety
was a sort of signal.

That doesn’t help me at all.

The subconscious
doesn’t care about morals.

What my subconscious is showing me

is that, however much
I may wish to change,

all I’ll ever manage to do
is ruin everything.

I’m leaving my wife.

Yes, I’m leaving her.

I cruelly let her know that earlier.

Like I was making sure
I couldn’t go back.

A scorched-earth policy.

Sorry, what?

Scorched earth.

So I’m leaving my wife.

I don’t know what’ll happen
to my practice.

You can look at me like that,

but I can’t really see
where I am either.

And all that for what?

For love. For the love of Ariane.

Ariane was perhaps
the last great love of my life,

and I let her get away.

I didn’t have the courage.

I wasn’t able to pay the price
you talked about last time.

So I lost it all, destroyed everything.

It reminds me of that expression:

the worst is never certain.

When you think you’ve hit rock-bottom,

you can’t be sure
it won’t get even worse.

Are you trying to finish me off?

It’s not certain
that what you’ve done was the worst.

On the contrary,
it could be the opposite.

What I hear you saying is that
you’ve smashed everything in your life.

You’ve used your desire for Ariane

to untie, one by one,
all the moorings of your life as a man:

your position as a husband,
a father, a psychoanalyst...

Almost your vision of the world.

Sleeping with Ariane or not

in a way isn’t the worst thing.

I’ve reconsidered
and questioned everything.

And it’s been very painful.

It didn’t start with Ariane, it started
before, with the terrorist attacks.

It wasn’t me who started it,
it was society around me,

which started its self-destruction.

Philippe, face up to things.

How long has Ariane
been coming to you for analysis?

You can’t deny that.

Even if the terrorist attacks
broke down the last barrier,

it was your desire for Ariane
that made you reassess your life.

I’m just like everyone else?

Like all those human beings

liable to be carried away
by self-destructive impulses,

disturbing the fragile equilibrium
of our society?

I perfectly embody
this malaise in civilization?

In any case,
the example in our streets today

seems to have had
a powerful effect on you.

You’re always talking about what’s
happened in France since the attacks.

It’s like you’ve heard an echo
of what’s tearing you apart.

You mean I see myself in that?

Because I am totally incapable
of being civilized?

For all the years I’ve spent
being analyzed,

coming to terms with my past,

constructing an environment
that’s civilized, social, engaged...

You mean that despite
all that work to tame the beast,

it’s inevitable
that I must lose the game?

The monster awakes
and destroys all in its passage?

Of course we fail.

We don’t all do it the same way.

To each their own style!

It’s not much consolation.

You stopped.

You didn’t see your program
of self-destruction to its conclusion.

The worst would have been
to go all the way?

I don’t know.

Do you know what she said? Ariane?

Earlier on, in her living room,
on her sofa.

She said she no longer wanted
to use sex to avoid problems.

She wanted to build something.

And, luring me to her bed,
she used sex

to place me
face-to-face with my problem.

There’s a huge paradox there.

But it seems Ariane made
great progress in her therapy.

That’s a huge clinical success.

Should I go and tell her that?
Reassure her?

I think you should leave her alone.

She seems quite capable
of coping by herself.

She said she didn’t want me
to use her to solve my crisis.

Nor to do my grieving.

She probably meant for Chibane.

But it was valid too
for the terrorist attacks.

A panic attack stopped me dead.

In any case, something from you
halted the program.

You’re not buying
the subconscious morality argument

but it’s not about morality.

The meaning of what you did
wasn’t determined,

but it had a determining effect.

Like a stylistic effect.

Yes.

Or a stage, a step.

A step.

A step aside.

A step in a different direction.

Which direction?

I think we’ll talk about that next time.

We could consider you
lying down again.

Where? On the floor?

I can deal with that!

Shall we make it Friday?

See you next Friday, then.

Thanks.