Original subtitles

Sold to France in 1768,

Corsica

often experiences nationalist surges.

These reached their climax

with armed conflict in 1976.

Nationalism became widespread, divided Corsica.

Youths got involved.

The FLNC split into 2 groups

in the '90s,

sparking a "fratricidal war"

causing political chaos and violence.

Crime flourished.

Dissident groups appeared.

The next generation

became involved.

Enjoy yourself.

There's a Social Security letter, 2 letters for your office

and letters from the taxman.

However, I can't remember the address.

Résidence...

Daisy.

Yeah, fine.

The weather...

Good, bad, rainy...

The flat's nice, though.

I like it here.

OK, I'll leave you to it. OK, bye.

We're going on holiday to Bastia.

That's all in the past.

Come on. Move it.

You have 7 new messages.

Today, at 9:14am.

They've killed

Christophe.

It's all your fault, Stéphane.

Sté?

I'm going to the funeral.

I'll get my stuff, go to the village

and then fix all the problems.

It's time to fight back.

It's now or never.

Paris is over for me.

You brought me up to take responsibility,

not to be a coward. And I'm not gonna be one.

Not for my friend. So, stop crying.

- Be quiet... - Stop crying!

We cry for the dead, not the living. I'm alive.

Stop it.

Come with me.

Come with me.

- Come with me. - Stop it.

The cross...

Our Lord on the cross...

A young man lying down,

who can no longer see day

but who will see heaven

and the Lord's joy.

May his family be reassured,

he'll never be alone

next to Christ our Lord.

Let me do it.

Bastia, a few years before

Come and sit with us.

Come on. Go on.

Yeah, yeah.

Stop! Ah, he's torturing me!

Move that decoration out the way.

- There. - There we go! Yeah!

- Here. take this, will you? - It's goat.

Really?

It's not cooked.

You're right.

She's right. Wait, I'll give you...

Wait.

I know you've done your time

but finish off what you have to do.

What do you have left? 4 months?

Do your end-of-term exams, get your diploma

and then make your case to your mum.

Don't run away.

If you say to her: "I'm quitting Aix right now",

mid-year, just before exams,

she'll send you to Corte to repeat the year.

I'm not going to Corte.

One, they're all bums in Corte,

and two, it won't go well, I know it: gut instinct.

They're not bums.

There are folk I can't be around.

I'll be led astray.

It's not that they're bums...

You attract bums, that's all.

If I hang out with folk up there,

I know I'll get led astray.

I don't need that.

I want to leave Aix because it has no culture.

My mates just wanna...

I've had enough of that.

- True, Aix is dead. - I wanna be in Paris.

I want better.

- Him, a genius? - I reckon so.

When he died, he was a bum.

He was rich.

Richer than you and your ancestors put together.

- You're the bum. - Stéphane, stop it.

Well, he's dead.

I'd rather live like him and die at his age

than live here like a louse to 100.

You're good at celebrating other folks' deaths!

What's that?

I hate the way my son talks.

You saw those hooded guys on the podium

claim they killed that kid.

Want me to say his name again?

You all knew each other there.

Was Robert Sozzi a bum too?

I wasn't there.

You call yourself a man of honour?

- Easy! - Show your colours.

Hang on, I do. I show my colours.

- When? - Well, I...

When you and pals

celebrated those kids' deaths

or when you said nothing?

Because you agreed with it. You agreed with it.

Why get in such a state?

- Why invite him? - He's my brother.

- He's a dick. - Stop judging people.

He's a prize dick.

Where you going?

They think they invented TV.

- Who? - The North Koreans.

They made fake videos,

simulations of bombing Washington.

Those guys are hotheads.

They're there.

- What do you mean? - They're there.

What does that mean?

- He knows too much. - Loon!

- What? - He's got informers.

His eyes are a bit slitty...

Have you got family abroad?

- Thailand. - Ah! Seriously?

Hey, listen, when I go to Thailand, it's...

Know what I mean?

My great-grandfather...

- Sure it was him? - ...shagged a Thai whore

who turned out to be a man. - No!

It's complicated.

She had a pompom.

No. I said:

if you take twice as many pills... Yes.

Come for a few days. You can have the flat...

- It's great. - It's worth it.

I told you, but you never come.

- What do you think? - There's lots of drink.

It's hard to get there.

What do you mean, "hard"?

If we come, I want birds.

Lionel, if we come to Aix, can you hook us up?

You're asking me to hook you up with girls?

You always have fit birds.

It's a gift.

It's true.

A "waiter's charm", yes, but a gift...

- You mean, a waiter's prestige. - Exactly.

OK. He's Lionel the King.

When're you going back?

- After New Year. - How long are you staying?

Till after New Year. Then I'm off.

- Staying there? - For a bit.

Can you take something?

- Of course. - Yes?

Sure.

Julien, get the bag.

How're you going? By boat?

I can take it.

- You can? - I can take it.

If you need me to, I can take it.

- Don't feel you have to... - I don't.

You're OK with this? OK.

Put it away.

- Nice. - Gimme it. Let go.

- Nice, eh? - Great.

- Weighs a ton. - Beautiful.

Don't show it to any birds or your mates... no one.

It stays at your place.

Someone'll pick it up.

Fine.

- Champagne, anyone? - He's getting excited.

- Watch out! - Wait!

Not on me.

- Stop! - Oh, fuck...

Are you mental?

Come on, Dad! Merry Christmas!

Right. Let's try to make some progress now.

Looking at your police record

and this file here,

I've enough to keep you locked up in Paris for a while.

What's "a while"?

2 years, on remand.

- "2 years"? - Yes. Surprised?

How long are you gonna keep up

the naïve student act?

- I'm not. - What?

I'm not acting. I study political science,

I'm thinking ahead.

Well, I'm looking at your past.

How can you expect me to believe you're not political

when you're hiding guns

that were used in terrorist acts?

I have friends with nationalist ideas, period.

So you're hiding guns for them.

- No. - "No"?

For who, then?

A cousin in your village, a shepherd in Niolu?

Who?

I'm listening, young man. Who?

I'm not doing anything political.

I'm apolitical.

Those guns aren't apolitical.

They were used for political terrorism.

I was lent a bag, didn't look in it

and now I'm here.

Let's examine the facts from the start.

Where were you during Corte's International Days?

At the beach.

When asked, "Where were you during Corte's International Days

"in August '97", the defendant answered: "At the beach."

That's fine.

Hello. Exercise time.

Door opening.

What're you reading?

Demons.

Do you know him?

Yes.

I know who he is too.

Know what they call you here?

It's not nice.

"Mongolito."

Who calls me that?

- Guys in prison. - Not great, eh?

Proud of being here for nothing?

No.

Wasting years for worthless folk.

Folk with no brains or morals.

I know that bunch of morons.

They ruin the work I do.

They betray our young.

Know what landed you in prison?

- In prison? - Yes, in prison. Here, now.

- Destiny. - Destiny!

Are you nuts?

Destiny, yes, but first, shame.

Shame.

Shame and bad luck.

I can describe your life, like anyone from your lost generation.

You come from a good family.

"A middle-class family",

though they don't exist here.

So we'll call them "good people".

I'm sure there are honest folk even among you.

I've seen horrible things.

The majority of us, you should say.

- That's a minority. - Don't overemphasize

1 or 2 militants or people in the public eye.

- Most of us... - They taint your struggle.

Course. But you only remember them.

Remember us too.

Remember that our struggle

helped us to escape a fatal deadlock.

Remember that.

People were deeply involved.

They believed. They gave their all.

You only remember the problems,

the petty abuses, the tensions between a few.

Think about it. Where are we from?

We're from a Mediterranean island that, in the '60s,

was the poorest island in the western Mediterranean.

Yet Corsica had never experienced any violence.

Do you understand? We were about to disappear.

That was the plan.

The State and its colonial agenda was trying to alter us completely.

Fortunately, there were men who realised this,

who ensured that this land is less poor today.

- Sure. - So don't just remember...

- I deplore that. - I'm saying...

I do deplore all of that,

but remember the positive side.

We've come from the depths.

What the boss wants mustn't be more important than the fight.

- True. - Period.

Up to now, what's happened?

For 5 or 6 years, we've talked about success in the elections,

then we all end up quarrelling. Why?

Because our bosses just think of themselves. That's all.

They send us in, us puppets.

To the slaughter. Look where we are.

While they dine with the top dogs.

Exactly.

But I can look in the mirror.

We can all do that.

I bet some guys outside

aren't so proud of themselves.

We know: the people do care.

The people aren't stupid. Don't mock them.

How's he meant to understand

if all he's seen are problems, splits,

warring egos?

He doesn't understand our fight.

We'll teach him.

He hasn't a clue.

Look, he's wondering why he's here.

He's scared. He'll get it later.

What you scared of? Political commitment?

Look, I'm here, and I'm ready to do anything.

You lie on your bed, waiting, wondering:

"Why violence?"

Is political commitment about fear?

Of course. You must be brave.

And why are you here?

You're not at home, guys.

I went down for one reason:

I defended my land, I took action...

I did a lot: for my people,

not for money.

Why do you never write?

I don't like writing.

I make mistakes. It's not my thing.

Who cares?

It's to show you care.

I do.

Yeah, right.

My head's elsewhere at the moment.

Elsewhere...

- In what way? - I dunno.

You seeing someone?

Having an affair?

I don't wanna discuss it.

I went out with a guy 3 times, that's all.

I don't care! Who?

It's over now. Forget it.

- How dare you! - You asked.

Lie next time!

We have to be radical.

Corsica is a card game. Everyone cheats:

the State, us, our neighbours.

Let's upset the apple cart.

We'll do a clean-out.

Can't you feel the atmosphere?

Are there folk we can use?

Of course.

We can use them for that.

You have the solution.

- I don't know his friends. - True.

He doesn't know 'em. We wanna meet them.

You will.

If you say they're good...

You can meet them and decide.

But they can do stuff like that.

What do we have to give up if we join?

Nothing's forbidden. I'm not gonna control you.

But there's a hierarchy in the group.

If you have your own stuff to do, do it,

but it's nothing to do with the group.

Not consistent. You can't claim 1 act was done

by the group,

but another wasn't.

It won't work.

Plus, we answer to François.

It's not like that.

How is it, then?

Listen, how do we finance this?

By racketeering, I don't like it, but however we want.

It's money coming in.

Beyond that, drugs, hold-ups, whatever you like,

have nothing to do with the organisation.

We can't be linked to that.

Drugs and nationalists don't mix.

Yes. People talk.

If you do something and claim it was the group,

anything you do will be linked to that.

- Everyone can see you. - Watch what you do, then.

If you wanna join the group

and you know your business can harm the movement,

don't do that stuff.

- Make a choice. - We will.

We're about to do some big-money deals.

Will your thing pay?

- Money's not everything. - Then what is?

How do I live if I stop selling hash?

If Lionel keeps selling hash,

will 1 of François' cronies say: "Hey..."?

No. That's unacceptable.

I have a life, politics or not.

Just keep it to yourself.

Is that a guarantee? We have to be sure.

Lio, would you rather

sell hash? - It's money.

You don't care.

What? Of course I wanna help him.

Money isn't everything.

You communist!

Take loads of risks for a guy I don't know?

It's not about François.

We're doing this for Corsica, not him.

- Who do we answer to? - If you blow up a house...

- We won't be... - It's just an example.

Will you blow it up

for François or because it's not building land

and it shouldn't be there?

Money isn't everything.

We aren't accountable to just anyone:

François isn't just anyone. Nor is Marc-Antoine.

What noble stuff do you do right now?

How could you be better?

By fighting for your island and your people.

You'll have enough to live on.

As long as I don't lose out money-wise, it's OK.

- You earn that much? - Quite a bit.

- You have to believe in it. - True.

- Or else, forget it. - This is for our future.

We can't operate with people like that.

- OK. We stick together. - Of course.

I can see it now. I don't wanna be trudging about

with strangers up in Niolu or somewhere. I don't want

some yokel telling us to each go

to different places.

No. We stick together.

- Of course. - OK.

Happy days.

Come and meet my friends.

Christophe,

Lionel,

Micka.

You can't speak Corsican?

"Each generation must fumble in the dark

"to discover its mission,

"fulfil it or fail.

"In underdeveloped nations

"previous generations have resisted the erosion

"of colonialism

"and paved the way for today's fight."

- Struggle. - Fight, action.

- We're here for that. - They are.

"We must stop

"downplaying our fathers' acts

"now we're involved in the fight."

Who's the enemy?

"They fought their best

"with what weapons they had.

"If their fight

"has not echoed abroad,

"it has more to do with

"the international situation than lack of heroism."

Yet another assassination?

Yes, for sure.

"How many colonised peoples said, 'This must end',

"how many tribes had to rebel,

"how many revolts were quelled

"for us now to be able

"to resist, certain of our victory.

"This is the mission

"for those of us who decide to shatter colonialism,

"after all the revolts,

"the desperate acts, the aborted attempts,

"the bloodshed."

We must recognise him.

What are you willing to do for your land?

To die.

Ever seen a man die?

- No, not yet. - Could you handle it?

I think so, yes.

Political-military organisations have become committed

to bloody confrontations.

"We are not the FLNC.

"We are a legitimate army, the people's army.

"We answer to the people and the people alone.

"We're an armada."

As regards the Matignon Process...

"We do not intend to remain concealed,

"we intend to be regulators, arbitrators.

"Our goal is not

"to oust other clandestine groups,

"but to serve as a guide,

"to rearm our youth ideologically

"and strike whenever

"our interests are threatened."

In view of the situation's urgency,

we solemnly announce

the birth of our organisation.

French State: assassin!

FLNC! FLNC!

MAFIA OUT

DANGER MINES

The worst night in a year.

56 attacks in the small hours,

starting between 4:30am and 5:30am

all over the island.

In Bastia, weak explosions caused light damage to banks

and public buildings

such as a job centre and a post office.

Recently, numerous clandestine movements,

mostly short-lived,

have advertised themselves via the press

before vanishing.

This time, it seems like we're dealing with

a group that's here to last.

Yes, but all of this has an element of déjà-vu to it.

First, we see the demonstrative ritual

of the press conference, a bit like...

I was with you last night, OK?

I'm not coming tonight. I've something to do.

Trying to embarrass me?

Say I'm ill. That's true actually: I'm anxious.

What do those guys want with a girl like me?

You're doing it for me, not them.

You say you'll do things and then you don't, as usual.

- You're a pain! - Fuck.

It's selfish. You do nothing.

Then you say: "I'm anxious."

You've got chronic anxiety!

I didn't register for that course in time.

Going out in Bastia tonight?

- Yes. - With your cousin?

- To talk shit? - Stop putting me down.

You hang out with folk unequal to you.

What, like you?

If you came tonight, you'd meet thinkers.

Everyone wants to meet them.

In your dreams.

No. You're above all that.

You're so pretentious.

OK.

You have no interests.

Apart from yourself.

- It's depressing. - Go out with someone else.

They go on TV to cry

so a regular fat Frenchman thinks: "That's bad."

What we're doing is...

They don't get it in Paris.

They've never been here. They dunno what they're on about.

What're we doing?

I told you: we're picking the others up.

I need to pick Daisy up or she'll give me a row.

And she's with her pal, Carine.

- Don't start. - What?

Come on. Have you split up or not?

We need to know.

What?

He went with Raphaëlle.

You're a real sucker.

- We slept together. It's fine. - What, just slept?

What did I tell you about her?

I told him that: she'll mess him about.

Fuck, guys, I saw Marine again.

What? Before your wedding?

- It was nothing. - How?

It was nothing! I wasn't into it.

She hassled me into it.

What'm I meant to do? I'm cracking up.

- It's a stressful time. - Nice for Vanessa.

You... Shut up about Vanessa, will you!

- What? - Don't do it.

- Not to me. - What?

- You nuts? - Yeah, yeah.

- This is Stéphane. - OK?

- Go on. - As I told Lionel...

The deal was practically in the bag.

- Had you met the guy before? - Sure. Loads of times.

You were screwed. Tell 'em.

Ask Lionel. He was there.

A Portuguese firm turns up 3 days before:

trying to get contracts in Bastia.

That cunt got them in from nowhere.

They undercut us, of course.

The Portuguese, like.

I've got folk to pay:

I'm not gonna reduce everyone's wages

because of some Portuguese guys

who work 12 hours a day for nothing...

Anyway, I played the game.

I suggested we go into partnership

so my firm and I

could work on the housing site behind.

That's what I suggested, to keep us in work.

- An arrangement. - I don't get it.

Did you order the materials?

Tell them.

Of course I did!

Of course he did. He's been screwed. He paid up front!

I turned up: the workers were there!

We were there 3 days early!

I've got an ulcer because of this!

I'm on bloody Actimel!

Well, I'd had enough!

I slammed the door and left!

So, you'd have accepted 10 million,

but you lost out, so you called us.

He was had!

I don't care about that.

That's not why I told you.

What really pisses me off,

what's not on,

is that that Sardinian shit thinks he's at home,

he's so arrogant...

OK, I get it.

You're upset for political reasons.

- Yes. - And social ones.

- Yes. - You're brave.

Don't you get it?

You're using foreign firms!

I don't care where they're from. I look at their work.

- You don't care? - No.

You don't want to hire Corsicans?

You don't want to? No worries!

You can pay us every month.

An envelope each month-end.

So his cousin has some money.

That's not on.

Each decision you make has a consequence. That's life.

We're restoring balance.

I forgot to mention

that I already pay: bigger fish than you.

Do you think I did all this

without any protection? I'm not an idiot.

Where are they, then?

- You don't know who they are. - Where are they? Call 'em!

- No. - Call them!

Tell 'em you don't need 'em now.

- OK? - We're your protection now.

We defend people's interests.

You want foreign firms here? That's OK.

- This isn't N. Korea. - Listen!

But we'll tax you:

so we can do useful things,

like train his cousin.

He needs a skill.

This'll pay for him.

My cousin's fine. He's bright.

Be realistic:

you must've known this was a war zone.

You're now part of the war effort.

- I'll go bust. - I don't give a shit.

We'll be here in 1 month and you'll pay up.

He wants to see you. We'll have dinner after.

Why not call the Attorney General?

Good choice!

Little boy's getting married!

- Why "little"? - You need to give him a lesson.

- Why "little"? - Because I knew you as a kid.

I'm not old, neither are you.

Are you drunk?

I'm off.

See you at the VIP.

Good evening.

Evening.

Giudicelli, my lawyer.

- Evening. - Evening.

Evening. Evening, Minister.

Former Minister!

- Evening. - The title is retained.

More so than the man.

This is Stéphane, a young Corsican.

Two glasses, please.

I hope we're not interrupting an important conversation.

No. We were talking about home.

Marc-Antoine. Are you avoiding us?

- No. - Come and talk to us.

I can't refuse Madam Mayor.

"Madam Mayor", don't be so silly!

I'll bring him back. How're you?

I must leave you. Sorry.

Come on.

Isn't he with the Security Service?

Just observe and relax for tonight.

It's full of women. Let's have fun.

Mr Luang, future head of France TV,

hopefully.

M. Belvez, J-P Chevènement's former Chief of Staff.

Delphine, his wife, and Rosemary, my press officer.

Philippe, come here! Let's have a photo.

Let's have a photo.

Right...

- A photo? - Yes, with this bad boy.

- Think carefully. - I have.

It could be a costly photo.

- OK. - Right, smile.

He pinched me!

This is comfy.

- There... - Get a load of this.

Look: "Gangster". He got the message.

Not your pal from Libération who mixed us up?

We've got a label now. That's good.

What do you want? A medal?

French journalists. They don't get it!

Do you want an article every time?

- No. - Do it for yourself!

I don't wanna be a gangster!

I work hard.

I'm sick of being an... enforcer!

Marc-Antoine is worse than gangsters.

You don't wanna be an enforcer? Don't be one!

I'll have to explain to the youngsters.

I don't agree with everything we do,

but I understand what we do!

In the future, the young will do their thing

and say: "It's our turn." How'll you manage them?

We put slot machines in the Var with Marc-Antoine,

a package in Paris that's not meant

to explode

because he has other plans in mind:

trafficking in Beauvau. Did you know that?

We don't want them

to understand: so we keep them out.

So much the better!

Do you think our militants care about

the world?

I'm saying that the young

will do their own thing,

want their turn. How'll you lead them?

I won't! All they think about

is money and stuffing their faces!

Let them die!

They were blown up in '94.

It was a major hit on a group of 4 villas,

a large-scale property deal

financed by an Italian company

with tacit local approval.

Do you regret acts like that?

You can't regret things like that.

The reason Corsica hasn't been sold off

or covered in concrete like the Italian Riviera

is because of resistance,

because people opposed it. With guns, if need be.

Do you mean the Mafia?

The Mafia is the symbiosis between

political, financial authorities

and crime.

In Corsica now, we're witnessing

a prelude to that phenomenon.

Left or Right mean nothing in Corsica.

We join groups out of friendship,

for favours.

We get a building permit because we get on

with the mayor.

Member of powerful clans aren't hassled

if they break the law.

Corsica has been that way for decades.

With the backing of local politicians

Corsica could become Sicily.

Even if the social structure, traditions are different.

The combination of factors now

could easily transform us into another Sicily.

There will be, there are a number of us

opposed to that.

We have 10 batches like this coming.

What action have you taken?

That hotel complex, for starters.

- For extortion? - Not necessarily.

You should've levelled it.

The courthouse just made people laugh.

That's different.

Elvin got in that car with a list of demands.

But they chose to discredit the operation.

I agree. It made us look bad.

We showed we have the technical means...

Forget action.

Your organisation's purpose isn't action.

Your bosses have other stuff in mind.

- Marc-Antoine? - Who else?

He's our boss.

Think about my offer, José.

Guys like you should be valued more.

- François agrees. - I don't care.

Or I would've joined you after jail.

The youngsters prefer to join us now.

François has vision. He likes thinkers.

And we need guys with good military skills.

Like you.

You're opposing other groups, the State

and the underworld.

- You won't last. - We'll see.

You don't get it: they're all the same.

No. You don't get what'll happen.

Like the frog in the fable, everyone'll be against you.

They'll get rid of your small fry to hurt your big fish.

If I were you, I'd like

someone to talk to me like I'm doing.

Be careful where you go and who you trust.

Hello?

Yes.

They were everywhere, as if they'd come out of the earth.

Because of that bitch...

My clairvoyant came last night.

When I rang you earlier,

I got up to get some fresh air,

I couldn't sleep and...

And I saw it on my shirt.

There was a stain, it was nothing,

but...

But people hate me.

I know it.

Why didn't you answer your fucking phone?

Finally...

Bad news:

there've been some strangers in the area.

- When? - All of yesterday.

We saw 2 vehicles. It don't look good.

One guy was young, a shepherd.

- He's after you. - He's an assassin.

Let's go up.

I repeat:

there's a real intention to harm you physically.

Marc-Antoine's sources and our own

all agree.

We need to strike. Strike hard. Now.

Let me get our lawyer's advice.

To start with, we should declare war openly.

They've declared it.

But we must be prepared.

It's self-defence.

Someone's targeting François:

it's self-defence.

I agree, but it'll soon spiral.

Yes, we kill the shepherd,

but be prepared for reprisals.

We have to be ready.

That's what we must do now.

We need to start by looking at his group.

It'll open a breach. We don't know their allies.

The shepherd's small fry: just a hill,

but behind, there's a mountain.

I think we should be prepared to the extent that

we're not confronted by a wave

we can't control.

That means thinking about François and his protection.

But it also means the whole team here

and those on the side.

Whoever declares war on us

must know he'll lose, given our military means.

We catch him, take him away and finish him.

- We'll find him. - Flush him out and kill him.

So, we have to protect François, prepare for war,

know if we can mobilise enough men

to go into battle.

Case closed.

There's the political side

because we'll be questioned.

In doing this, we'll be appealing

to the people.

We need to work out whether

we claim the act.

How do we process it?

We claim it.

Word will get out.

Paris will interpret it its way.

Corsicans will hear on the street.

What do we say to Paris?

That we'll kill their men.

The Parisians are the gangsters.

The State supports gangsters. You know that.

For 20 years they've let them fragment nationalism

with impunity.

- Do we talk to 'em? - Yes.

- To Paris? - Sure!

- We'll see. - Forget deals!

We'll make no deals.

No deals with Paris or anyone!

All I care about is here:

we strike here and they understand here.

The cunts who extort money from my people,

my youths,

who steal my land and burn my territory:

I want them to be scared.

And if this murder can do that,

then that's fine by me!

- What's wrong? - Nothing.

- Something happened? - What were we saying?

That Sté's dangerous.

Yes.

What's up, seriously?

You want to know, eh?

- I don't care. - I won't say.

- If I say, you won't sleep. - Yeah, yeah.

We're offing a guy.

- Seriously? - Yes. Not just us.

OK.

Keep it quiet, eh?

- Who're you killing? - A guy from a group.

Don't tell your pals.

Do I ever?

At least they'll see who they're dealing with.

Move!

Fucking guts!

Apparently, François had the kid killed.

I don't know.

Swear you had nothing to do with it.

Drop it.

- Hi. - Alright?

- Yes. You? - Can I have a quick word?

Yeah.

Alright?

We'll lend you the money you owe Christophe.

- Christophe, from the poker game? - Yes.

We need to find a solution. We don't want any hassle.

We need to sort it.

- You owe 20,000 francs. - I'll pay.

- How? - I'll pay it soon.

It's covered.

Don't worry.

How much can you pay a week or month?

Don't get involved. You in on the game too?

No. I'm just here to help.

- He's family. - Between us...

- The game... - Forget it.

He's keen on that game...

you're screwing it up.

Everyone sees you not paying.

Your friend's a sucker.

He should sort his shit out himself.

Let him sort it out.

Or else, tough!

He spoke to your uncle, your dad, your family.

- He shouldn't do that. - He can't talk to you.

Oh, what a team!

Cédric, you been hanging out with Bastia's bums long?

- Shut up. - Fine way to talk, Mr Angry!

Matthieu,

give everyone a drink!

Even the folk outside!

Because we're going on holiday.

Because we're in love.

Christophe, I'm so happy, I'm gonna sort this out.

I'll give you 500 francs...

Out of goodwill.

We'll see about the rest. I'll pay...

Forget it.

Go and see your uncle, big man that he is

and tell him I run Bastia now.

- What? Respect my family. - Tell him.

- I'm the boss now. - Respect my family.

You're a sucker.

Tell your family I'm the boss.

- They can get fucked. - Who can?

Shut up. I don't wanna hear it.

- Sh... - Shove your deal up your arse!

- Sh. - What'll you do?

I don't want your money. Tell 'em. Now piss off.

Go on, get out.

What? "Get out", me?

You're a pussy!

Don't you pull your gun out on me!

- Where do you think you are? - Big mistake!

You idiot! I was sorting it all out!

- He was gonna pay. - He's a moron.

- You're the moron! Why... - Stop, stop...

- I told you not to come. - Forget the money.

- I was sorting it! - Forget the money!

What're you doing? You always get us in shit.

Are you on my side?

This is crazy!

- Don't forget. - "Don't forget" what?

- I defend you. - Me too!

- No, you don't. - You got us in shit.

You attract trouble and we're always there for you!

- I'm here! - When you were in prison,

people slagged you off and I stuck up for you.

People laughed at you and I defended you!

I made enemies. So, stop it!

You don't wanna be my mate? Stay with them!

You're being immature and irrational. Like a 20-year-old!

I thought you were my friend.

- Sort it between you. - This isn't the end of it.

And we're involved now.

I'm young.

I have no intention of moving in with a man now.

You think that's what I want?

I didn't say that.

It's hurtful. I didn't propose to you.

Stop thinking of yourself all the time.

I'm here now, but I don't know about tomorrow.

What? It's true.

For now, I'm with you,

but we don't know what'll happen.

In this moment, yes. But after?

Thinking about that scares me.

- How cheery. - At least it's honest.

At times, you're not with me and I'm not with you.

True, eh?

Where are we, then?

Don't you get it? I'm just saying it's not for me.

I don't wanna see them

imprisoned in something that means nothing.

It's death.

You believe in nothing.

No, I just don't believe in marriage.

You don't have faith in us as a couple.

Do you have faith in us?

This won't take long, but...

You're my brother. Ours is a deep bond.

A beautiful bond.

Your life is my life. Life is priceless,

but it comes at a cost: I'd die for you.

I love you, bro.

I met this guy when I was a waiter at the Palmier.

He'd come and drink 46 coffees a day: he didn't go to school.

He'd play belote, drink coffee...

He was a right pain in the arse.

After that, we sowed our wild oats together.

We enjoyed the women.

- No... - Thank you, Lionel.

Sorry.

But we got to know a few tourists from round the world.

Here, have a go!

Wow!

Hey, guys!

Who wants a drink? You?

Go on!

Don't worry, I'll be OK.

I've got a sore hand.

They killed François!

Murderers!

Oh, François!

François.

Talk to me.

What did he say? Tell me.

What? They got him.

He's dead. What did he say?

What'd he say before dying?

That if...

If he croaked, we'd all croak.

Oh, Cécile!

My heart bleeds.

I've lost a friend, a brother in arms.

But I'm not here to cry, not in front of you.

Everyone here knew François.

How he forged his militant path.

He aspired to victory, but, above all,

he assimilated the spirit of sacrifice.

So, here you all are for the funeral.

In the hours and days to come, people will talk.

Unanimous condemnation...

Waffle, the usual.

But François was unusual.

To execute a man like François, there would need to be

wide-scale agreement

and compromise

between the decision makers

whom we won't name

and the other traditional authorities.

Tonight, some will be rubbing their hands together.

Try to pass on a message.

Tell them that we're moving away

from peace.

- That's only 2600. - You've only got blues.

Pretentious. Sir is pretentious.

Sir has money.

Here, look. Who's this for?

Do you want a straw, Michèle?

There's a lot of alcohol here.

- I'm not wasting my life. - Yes, you are.

OK, I am. Like you've wasted yours.

Wish me something else.

I do. That's why I'm here.

Don't wish that on me.

What're you waiting for? What's stopping you?

Are you depressed again?

No. I wanted to come.

- Have you seen who Marie's with? - No.

The guy's sick. He has blood on his hands.

Why's he here?

- What's wrong? - Marie, tell him to go.

- Who? - "Who", Marie?

I don't wanna be killed on my birthday!

- You invite him to my party? - It's my party too.

It's my place and nobody's leaving.

But he's got a gun.

What're you on about?

Stop causing trouble all the time!

Hey, you having fun?

- Are you? - Who're you talking to?

Excuse me.

Come. Don't ruin the atmosphere.

Come on, let's dance.

Stay in your seat.

Stop it!

You're dead!

Get fucked.

See you later!

Come on, guys! Where're you, you cunt?

He's gone. Go that way!

Hey, bastard! Show yourself!

Come out! Come out!

Where're you, you cunt?

Hello there. You have a pretty village.

Thank you.

Are there any houses for sale locally?

Mostly ruins.

Seemingly, your son wants to see us.

Who are you?

Does he wanna see us or not?

You do have a son, don't you?

I had a gun but didn't shoot.

We're not killers. You're not a killer.

Killers all around and I don't shoot. I'm a sucker.

I went to see my uncle.

Know what? My aunt said: "He's not here."

- He was inside, doing DIY. - Why?

He didn't wanna see me.

We have the underworld on our arses. Wake up.

We're on our own. Believe me.

I've got a wife to protect.

I'm getting geared up. I've got...

a team of youngsters.

I'll put 'em outside my gaff:

they'll shoot anyone.

It'll freak 'em out.

Why take it out on us? We're nothing.

What? What the fuck's up?

He's only been dead 3 days. No way.

You know that these guys are...

Hello? Yes, it's Sté.

I know who it is.

I know who the cunts are that did it.

I'm gonna kill them.

I'm gonna kill 'em, understand?

I'm not backing down!

Eh?

You have 3 solutions: either you stay here,

you lie low as a member of the movement,

or don't listen,

act as if nothing's up

and consider avenging François alone,

because you are alone - get that in your head -,

but if you do that, you'll be dead

in less than a week.

Leave Marc-Antoine alone.

He has 15 guys protecting him

around the clock.

He knows politicians, networks.

He and you are on different levels.

Even if he tries to make François' death political,

you must realise the movement's dead.

You've lost the game. End of story.

What do you think they'll say when you or your friends die?

Nothing.

No military honours, no compassion.

The guys on your arse have carte blanche to kill you

and the State will turn a blind eye.

You need to listen to me.

You're lucky. Your family can help.

You can move to Paris.

I'll be up there. I'll help him too.

He'll be safe in Paris.

But if you stay here, even 1 more week

you risk your life.

And your family will be in danger.

- He'll go to my cousin. - No!

Listen to him!

You can stay at mine, if you like. But you must leave.

How long must I be away?

I'll to be honest with you both:

don't ever return.

You shouldn't be here.

I know who you're going out with.

OK.

You pretend to be shocked

but the guys you're seeing

might kill me.

- You're hysterical. - Oh yeah?

See how it feels, bitch!

See?

This is Stéphane's answerphone.

Yeah, it's Christophe.

Right, I've got to go.

I know I shouldn't, but I haven't a choice.

They've got my godson, we're in shit.

Fuck, I know I shouldn't cry, but...

I have to go...

It's horrible...

I don't know what to do.

I swear.

I'll call you back. I'll try to smile.

I remember Pierre.

It was painful. I remember...

where I was when I was told.

I had a coffee with him at mine the day before.

It was on Boulevard Paoli, 7pm. Remember?

In mid-August.

Days are longer in August.

You could hear helicopters: ta-ta-ta-ta, everywhere.

- My Laurent... - It was hell.

...8 guys attacked him, he hadn't a chance.

He wasn't a bad lad.

Maybe, but he was in it up to his neck.

- It's not always coincidence. - It never is.

But it's sad.

- True. - That's for sure.

You not eating?

They want to make easy money:

so, why be surprised?

Very few make it in the underworld.

It is very selective.

In Bastia alone, look at all the kids they've killed in the last 2 years.

Fuck! Without even thinking,

I can count 15. And the rest.

That's how it is.

Most of my classmates at school are dead.

- They were murdered. - You're their lucky charm!

Better than a 4-leaf clover.

They were involved with business, gangsters, drugs,

arms trafficking. - The usual.

Don't even mention politics!

But they came from decent families.

- They were had. - It doesn't matter.

They didn't look like thugs.

There isn't a look. No one looks like that.

You're right.

Some were gentle, kind, even clever.

Some had potential.

They weren't from bad families.

Don't make excuses for them.

You always talk about fate, karma.

Sorry, but when you don't want to work

and want to earn money easily,

buy nice things, nice cars,

be feared by people,

screw all the girls...

They're not all like that.

They wanted to be famous.

They were that alright!

Is this all we're going to talk about?

Classic story. Isn't it?

What's happening to your son isn't new.

It's always been like that.

But my son's not dead.

He will be.

Shut up! That's enough.

She's upset enough as it is.

- Manghja. - Eat something.

What can I do?

I need someone to help me, to get him out of this.

Where is your son?

He's here for the funeral, then we go to Bastia,

then he'll come to my village.

And he'll live quietly there.

He should return to Paris.

You can't tell him what to do at 27.

He can't stay.

At 27, you know what you're doing.

- If he stays, he'll be killed. - He'll be killed.

Poor boy...

What would you do?

Your son should never have got involved with those groups.

Listen, the law is the law.

If he's dealing with "them", he must go.

Hasn't he got a girlfriend or something?

"A girlfriend"... She's crazy. So what?

I'm looking for solutions. Poor girl.

Look. The poor girl's desperate.

Wait...

Girlfriends can sometimes get you out of it.

If a woman can't do it, who can?

We know gangsters' girlfriends have no brains.

Look at you.

Bitch.

You whore.

They're all over you, you sleep with everyone,

you can put a word in for her.

Be quiet, dear. Enough.

My son represents nothing now.

Yes. But she told you, Valérie: blood.

The law is the law.

- Why the jumper? - I was cold.

I think I must be ill.

No. You don't have a temperature.

I have to give an interview.

What interview?

A guy from Match. A friend of Patrice.

He asked me to do it.

The guy's doing a feature on Corsican youths adrift.

That stuff.

Look after my sister.

I'm fucked.

Sort my funeral out,

make the arrangements.

Get it organised quickly.

Don't waste a minute.

I want flowers.

I wanted to tell you something.

You know I left home when I was 15.

I did stuff to hurt my parents,

I was anti-conformist.

I had you young, I was militant,

whereas my family had always been conservative.

I didn't raise you

how I should have.

I didn't listen to you talking politics.

I know that politics wasn't a discovery for you,

that it was your way of trying to get close to me.

I should've listened more.

I warned you about so much...

about wheeling and dealing: you told me not to worry...

that you had moral boundaries.

You always said a phrase. Do you remember?

"An illegal act is legitimate

"if it is just and in keeping with your conscience

"no matter how many people oppose you."

I missed something.

I didn't listen when you wanted to talk,

when you tried to talk, to tell me things.

Come. Pack your bag. We'll go to the airport.

We'll both leave.

Paris isn't for me.

I need to be here.

I just want to be left alone.

I'll go to the village and stay there.

We'll get through this. OK?

- Fine. - See you later.

I thought you'd left.

Marie, look. You godfather is here.

Here.

I'll be back in a minute.

1, 2, 3, 4. OK. It's recording.

Start when you're ready.

As a child, I saw someone die in the street.

I can't remember how old I was.

10, 11, maybe.

No one stopped me from looking.

No one made me avert my eyes.

Maybe no one noticed I was a child.

I remember it very clearly.

It was noon, it was hot.

The guy was going home to eat with his family.

Two guys came from nowhere.

They shot him many times in the head,

in the arms.

Something was wrong.

Not that I couldn't believe

a human had so much blood,

but that I was expecting someone to tell me

it wasn't real.

I also recall the headache I suddenly got.

As if I had a hole in my skull.

That headache really scared me.

It took me a while to realise what it was.

It was rage.

Rage is uncontrollable.

It totally overwhelms me.

I can barely breathe because of it.

I know the folk who did it...

I know the folk who killed my friend last week

and those trying to kill me now,

and who may succeed.

Will succeed.

Even if I'd rather live,

even if I pray I'll live.

No. I doubt I'll be alive in a week's time.

I doubt it.

The organisation I belonged to,

although it went "adrift",

was political, revolutionary and Marxist in its aims.

Many criminals who operate now

have personal aims.

There is a difference.

I know why I'm where I am

and I accept it.

The young men who were with me

accepted it too.

It is clear that we were used.

Once everything was over,

there was no one to get us out

of the shit we'd got into.

No one who could have got us out.

Neither our relatives, our friends,

nor the people who loved us.

It was too dangerous, too risky.

- Are you scared? - No.

Can I mention your name?

Of course you can. Absolutely.

Mention my name.

Write my name down.

To my father

A VIOLENT LIFE

Subtitles: ECLAIR