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FATHER AND GUN

Controlled by Uncle Tardif's Blood Machines?

Soon Uncle Tardif will be scrubbing toilets in the pen.

He'll be sharing

a cozy little cell with Mr. Cherry Pop.

The most romantic 300-pound Rasta in prison.

It's all set up - he can't wait!

What's he doing?

Fitting the wire.

Chitchatting?

You're forgetting...

something.

Anything happens to me,

take care of my wife. Within limits.

Relax. Like getting milk at the store.

But instead of milk, it's a convicted,

blood-thirsty biker. Now scram.

This is bullshit.

We've got Snake - why another informant?

Got milk in the fridge and we send Jeff out for more!

Enough with milk!

This is a police radio, not a hotline f-f-for...

quarts of milk!

Jacques, why is your authority always questioned?

Jacques says we need another quart of milk,

we need another quart of milk!

Enough with the milk!

Don't want to hear the word "quart of milk!" Clear?

That's 3 words. "Quart of milk" - 1, 2, 3.

Jacques, c'mere.

This wasn't the plan.

We said we'd do business.

I'll deal with Big Mike.

Where's Big Mike?

Relax, Bill.

Big Mike's never far away.

What's happening? I can't see.

- Marc, see anything? - It's not Big Mike, but Spike.

Holding Jeff with a Smith & Wesson,

Model 19, wood grip--

Shut up and fire.

Wait.

Now!

Wait.

What are you waiting for? Shoot!

Fire!!

What happened? What were you doing?

3-second window, 150 feet, 15 km/h winds--

Hey, weather girl, quit your clothesline talk and shoot!

I'm freaking out, too!

You should've fired, then!

- Jeff's my best friend! - Glad he's not your enemy!

One snitch wasn't enough for the great Jacques Laroche!

Dad, lay off, or I'll file a grievance!

Come on...

You had it.

Tear into me, hit me!

But not with a grievance.

Wear your balls!

Fuck!

A grievance!

Calm down! Easy. Breathe. Down, boy.

Goddamn Viagra-popping baby-boomer show-off!

Can't he retire his old Bruce Willis act:

"Die Hard 23 - Panic at the Nursing Home?"

He thinks I don't care?

Fuck, they got Jeff!

- I want him off my team. - Give your son a chance.

- I've tried everything. - He's your best shooter.

On the shooting range, yes! On paper, he's the best!

He's well-equipped to stay up late, but goes to bed at 8:00!

- You're too hard on him. - Put him on desk duty.

Whatever. Just not in the field! Understand?

The judge threw out the case due to lack of evidence!

You've had your client released on bail.

Quite a feat, considering he's suspected of murder,

conspiracy and accessory to murder,

and leading the Blood Machines.

How do you sleep at night, Counsellor,

defending a felon like Uncle Tardif?

First, who do you write for?

A local student newspaper.

- What are you studying? - Social Sciences.

With or without math?

Without.

Figures.

What will you do with this fount of knowledge, Miss?

Practice law. Like you. But unlike you.

First, young lady,

my client's name is Luc Tardif.

Second,

calling him a felon is slander.

I could sue and convict you - you'd have a record.

Above all, you'd be unable to travel

and build your girls' orphanage in Cameroon.

Thought of that?

Right now,

the prosecution's key witness, a biker

named "Snake"...

a former henchman

of Luc "Uncle" Tardif -

will testify against him

and could put the whole gang behind bars.

"Alleged gang," of course.

As you say, "alleged" gang, of course.

Actually, there is a gang.

A gang of people who enjoy Sunday biking.

Someone give her a Kleenex.

It's not your fault. I also thought we needed a mole.

What the hell's that?

Snake in exchange for Jeff Tremblay.

Those bastards have flipped their lids.

It's humiliating!

I've got enough problems with potholes and crumbling overpasses!

I don't need a cop getting kidnapped by bikers!

Mr. Mayor, I assure you--

This is very, very, very bad for Montreal's image!

Screw Montreal's image.

Who's he?

The legendary Commander Jacques Laroche.

He's running the whole operation.

Legendary? Never heard of him.

- Exactly. - That's his specialty.

I don't get it.

Going incognito. I'm a pro.

- Veteran undercover officer. - To most, I'm a non-entity.

I get it.

If the press finds out a cop was kidnapped...!

Jeff Tremblay isn't a "cop."

He's one of mine. I trained him.

He's protected your goddamn filthy city for 8 years!

How hard is it to empty trash cans?

The "cop" wouldn't have been kidnapped

if I'd had the extra snipers and the roadblock I'd requested!

But no! Who cares?

It's just organized crime!

Yet when it comes to sending out the pedal-pushing brigade,

community policing, issuing dog-pooping tickets,

there's plenty of cash!

That's just peachy!

Little co-ed teams in cute matching uniforms,

with their little pedal bikes and moron helmets!

"Pardon, ma'am, is that your pom-pom poodle?

"Cause he just pooped on the bike path,

in violation of city by-laws."

Dammit! They're no longer officers of the peace...

but a canine-incontinence squad, for Chrissake!

Smartass, your legend.

I want Jeff Tremblay back.

Uncle Tardif wants his rat back?

Do what you gotta do.

Snake wouldn't be the first snitch to hang himself in jail.

I said nothing.

Fix this, Scullion, or your head is gonna roll.

Forget it.

While Snake's alive, Jeff Tremblay's safe.

Don't worry, they won't kill Jeff.

They need him. They can't do it.

Why not?

Julie, look on the bright side.

He's alive.

A cherishable thought, no?

Jeff's thinking of you and your unborn son...

imagining his arms around you...

It helps him bear those inhuman conditions.

- Get out! - I said something wrong?

- Inhuman conditions? - Get out!

OK.

I'll get your Jeff back.

Dead or alive...

Alive, alive!

Definitely alive. Only alive.

Alive and kicking.

Any more alive, you kick the bucket...

It started 10 minutes ago.

The bunkers, bars,

Blood Machines's houses... All our cameras are toast.

They've got Jeff. Why keep up the pretense?

We look like idiots.

Exactly.

Whatcha doing?

My new assignment.

Nice going, Jacques. Shame on you.

Now you're gonna tail every last Blood Machine 24/7!

From the honchos to the hangers!

Stick to 'em like glue!

I wanna know where they've stashed Jeff, now!

15 DAYS TO LIQUIDATION

DEATH TO RATS

THE 28TH

They're screwing with us.

When a woman says she needs a break,

the guy understands it's over.

I understand, but not really.

I'll always be your best friend, 'cause you're the best.

That's just it.

You say I'm the best, but wanna split up!

- Stop. - Please explain to me:

Why would the woman who meets "the best"

not want to live and have kids with "the best?"

What's the point of being "the best" if your girl dumps you?

Keep this up, keep rejecting me,

I'll stop being the best.

It's pointless. I'll sleep with drunken cheerleaders,

blast M�tley Cr�e outside daycares at nap time,

flip off handicapped people randomly,

destroy an accordion, unprovoked...

just bash some poor schmuck's accordion!

No more Mr. Nice Guy!

The world will freakin' miss the best!

Because of your inability to love the best. So suck it up.

It's not working! Something's...

Something's missing.

What's missing?

I don't know. Stop!

Tell me what I've done wrong.

You're right.

How can I put this? You lack...

You lack meat.

Meat?

I lack meat?

You know...

You know, meat!

What, I should gain 30 pounds?

I lack meat?

Psycho.

All right through the heart.

Yep.

Look at me.

- What's today? - Tuesday.

- What's Ben's Tuesday special? - Club sandwich.

Someone's used as a human shield, how do you shoot the perp

without killing the hostage?

Under the collarbone.

Now, don't think - Shoot!

He's dead. Yep, he's dead all right.

Why is it, when it's time for action,

when it's go-time,

when it's gotta... oomph,

you can't...

can't... don't... can't...

I don't understand...

You get it?

You really don't?

Get out of your yap, get into your body.

You're like a wind-up toy.

- C'mon, I'm not that stiff. - No?

Then fire, fire, fire!

Jeez, is it me?

I'm just trying to help.

I give up. It bums me out.

Talk to each other, or deal with me.

Hanging...

It's so vulgar.

Fuck you.

You know the cost of suicide to society?

Do you?

Very high.

We raised you, schooled you.

Now you wanna throw it all away?

What's your problem?

My problem is...

our society funds a legal system that protects my dealers!

My problem is Uncle Tardif pays your fees

with my dope money! Unbelievable!

My fees!

You don't go through

$500,000 of ecstasy a year!

Go to hell!

This has to stop, Charles.

I just don't know what to do!

Listen to him.

Listen to him! Goddammit, Nathalie!

Anyone ever listened to me?

I've listened to you 22 years. I don't need another wife.

These aren't mood swings anymore...

it's out-and-out PMS!

I know you're suffering too.

You're irritable.

You talk in your sleep.

Really?

- What do I say? - Rather ask what you don't say.

You want a new life, Charles.

- You OK? - Can't breathe... I can't breathe.

Where are you? In jail?

I'll go into hiding.

I'll snitch to the cops.

I'll reveal everything.

... Out in the open.

B�rub�'s having a major existential crisis.

He's dying to talk.

He just doesn't know it.

A job well done.

Thanks.

I reviewed all the footage.

There's no hint of Jeff's whereabouts.

Since his wife told him, he sleeps like a log.

- Every night... - He must pop a buttload of pills

to keep from blabbing.

With all the Blood Machines' crimes on his conscience,

he gets stoned to cope.

Let's hustle. B�rub� may be Jeff's only chance.

Thank you, Jacques.

You were to come alone.

B�rub� and I are like this.

He defends me, I watch him.

We can't get near that damn lawyer.

Give me one day with him,

just shooting the shit.

I could work him, get inside his head,

flip him like a pancake.

He's better protected than a Chinese panda, dammit!

He's your son, Charles.

It's all up to you!

If we lose him, it's your fault. Hear me?

Stop playing the star lawyer

and deal with it.

For once be a father to your son.

Listen...

I've signed you up for a therapy.

What?

"Parental-reconnection" therapy.

There was an opening.

It's non-negotiable!

Father and Son Adventure offers you a fresh start.

Guided by noted psychologist Gilbert Bouchard,

you'll live an unforgettable experience:

a one-week nature retreat with others

seeking to reconnect.

The ultimate emotion-adventure.

You and Marc will follow B�rub�.

No way I'm going camping with him.

I agree with the old man.

I don't like you going off with a bunch of strangers just before trial.

If I don't, he'll kill himself.

I still don't like it.

You'll befriend B�rub� and get him to cooperate.

No way that I'm going away with him!

- If it means finding Jeff, I'm in. - Simard looks more like me.

'Course.

- He's just as egomaniacal... - Shut up!

- Screw you! - Manners!

Impolite little...!

- Fuck you! - Guys! Guys!

You don't even need to fake hating each other.

Welcome to Father and Son Adventure.

You'll see, it's gonna be quite a ride.

Meet Bobby, our driver,

cook,

handyman, Jack of all trades.

Want to eat? Be nice to him.

Simon Dufour. Notary.

Jacques Laroche.

- Realtor. - Marc Laroche.

Realtor, too.

Beno�t Dufour. Notary. Father and son, like you!

Funny!

Hilarious.

This fire-ravaged landscape...

symbolizes the state...

of father-son relationships.

There are burnt trees,

but also new growth.

Both are vital to the process!

The devastation must be acknowledged.

Dammit!

We must allow ourselves

to be hit, flogged, by regrowth

Marc, deep down, I don't resent you.

Me neither.

Let's take this opportunity

to get closer. For real.

I don't think so.

I just don't resent you.

What's he doing?

He must've slipped. I tried to grab him...

It's OK! I'm fine!

Feels good.

Refreshing.

Tadpole in my pants...

There's a tadpole in my pants!

You've had one for 29 years!

Trying to kill me?

B�rub� needed a break. You had to go down.

Makes sense! Good thing we're not in Afghanistan.

"Anyone wanna jog into the minefield?"

"Let's send Marc. He's so cute when he explodes."

You should've seen his son. He totally related.

Always the showman!

I need to catch B�rub�'s eye!

Last time you did your act, my best friend got kidnapped.

So far, you're both very credible.

Genevi�ve says we're convincing.

Quit talking into the mike and holding your ear, dammit!

You look like a Bell operator on acid!

By the way, Bell Canada no longer has operators.

"Acid" no longer exists.

Expressions with "on acid,"

like "Bell operator on acid,"

are so pass�. It isn't said anymore.

It's not funny anymore.

A big, excited orange cat isn't "Garfield on acid,"

but "an overexcited pumpkin."

Anything but "on acid."

We're partners. Remember, we're a team.

Look: Communication...

Synchronization...

Success.

Let's get one thing straight:

You're here 'cause I needed a son.

I've got a job to do, you're like my intern.

You could learn something.

Guys, let's keep it simple:

Fathers on one side, sons on the other.

OK?

It's gonna be great!

It's a show-and-tell exercise.

Choose a figure that represents your father,

or son.

Then explain why you chose that figure.

I hesitated...

I could've chosen...

a big doggy.

But I chose this:

a tin soldier.

'Cause my son, Max, is a defender of capitalism.

He exploits Chinese labourers.

I chose this.

'Cause my dad, Antoine, is a weakling.

'Cause of Quebec's rotten, matriarchal, emasculating society.

There are no women here.

No mothers, no teachers,

especially no freakin' lady judge denying access to your kids

'cause you have "anger-management issues!"

THE BITCH!

This trip was my idea.

I just recently...

reunited with my son.

This is Jules.

This toy represents my ideal of my son.

Junior has no drive.

I thought...

perhaps...

spending a week in the woods doing...

woods-type activities...

maybe could...

My dad.

This is... Ben.

My baby.

Our problem is...

we're too "in love."

My dad:

invincible as a superhero.

So...

we're thrilled to be here.

Yeah, thrilled!

To represent my dad, I chose...

a Taliban insurgent.

My dad's a Taliban insurgent.

Actually, all fathers are Taliban.

That's the main problem with father-son relationships.

They're inherently unequal.

Fathers have absolute power over their sons.

Fathers become Taliban.

You're stuck, hoping he's a decent Taliban.

Which is pretty rare.

To represent my son, Marc...

I found this.

It represents him well.

Actually, all sons.

Fellow fathers,

I don't know about you,

but seems to me that sons

have become momma's boys.

We must coddle them,

shower them with love,

and, above all, always listen to them.

Listen to them some more,

still more,

to make sure they're hunky-dorry.

Otherwise, they start whining, sulking,

crying... Hell,

these aren't tantrums, but PMS!

So...

Here's an animal that represents

a young man who is sensitive, lovable...

but prickly.

Unapproachable.

My son, Tim.

Dad, to represent you...

I picked up this pile of shit.

Dunno if it's dog or moose shit,

but shit is shit.

We're not done.

Charles B�rub�, Attorney-at-Law,

is most certainly done.

Hardly the Ritz, is it?

B�rub�'s doubled his dose.

He's out cold, unshakable.

Before making the offer, we'll have to shake him up.

Moving on to Plan B.

I'm all set.

We're all set.

You should wear a wire.

I prefer the old-fashioned way, natural.

No iPod, no wire, no rubber.

Your Grecian Formula... that natural, or old-fashioned?

Hey, guys!

Tough.

We're doing good.

That was good, yesterday.

Humour's always good.

Just don't become a negative influence.

This is very delicate.

I can't allow harmful elements.

Clear?

- Sure, Gilbert. No problem. - Great.

You'll see, guys, by week's end,

I'm making this my personal mission,

you'll be the world's best friends.

Can't wait.

You guys are gonna love the next exercise! Let's go!

You're reverting to early childhood.

To your first moments together.

As father and baby.

When affection wasn't yet taboo.

It's important to touch.

To caress, to feel each other.

Don't be afraid. Go ahead.

It's vital that your sons return to their infancy.

You must learn to love again.

I know it's hard.

Now...

we're returning to adolescence.

To bring back what was lost between you:

Games.

Have fun!

C'mon!

Go on.

C'mon.

C'mon, c'mon...!

Thank you.

Your turn.

Let's just say I think mud wrestling's for women.

Maybe. But how do you think Tim feels right now?

Like I care.

Wanna wrestle?

- C'mon, Jacques! - Give it to him!

C'mon, Marc!

C'mon, Jacques!

This time, make it good.

Good? Make what good?

Make it look real, give it all you've got.

- What, real? - I'm gonna smack you.

- What? - To impress B�rub�.

- Psycho! - Good, get mad!

Don't hit me for real. It's a game! Right? Right.

Stop, dammit!

Psycho!

C'mon!

What now?

Awesome.

That's it. Now you've got it.

Good.

C'mon, Jacques!

Stop!

Stop! Get off him!

He's killing him!

Great job, guys.

Thanks.

It's OK. Let it out.

Listen...

Charles B�rub� doesn't often say this.

For 5 minutes there, damn, you were hot.

Thanks, Charles.

Got another scarf...?

My dad isn't sedentary

He is solitary

He packed his bags turned the page

Took a voyage

The days unfurled

I'm alone in the world

Papa why not Hold me tight

Tell me you're proud That I'm your boy aloud

Roberto my hero

You're not funny oh no

The ballad was oh so sad

When you left me Dad

So hard to live without you

When you're away I'm so blue

Can I tell you something, Charles?

Sure. Go ahead.

Not to be a suck-up,

but you impress me.

Yeah?

What, my fame? Beemer? Prestige?

Mostly, your nerves of steel.

It's true.

If anyone's got nerves of steel, it's me.

Tempered steel.

You said it.

Cable-car wire.

I like that. Go on.

Hydro-Quebec wires during the ice storm.

With the twisted pylons

and ice-chewed wires...

But, dammit, they tough it out!

- You know? - What?

We lost power during the ice storm. Good one!

We lost power!

Not for long.

Lemme tell you...

You're a real cracker-jack!

You're a riot! You crack me up!

Bastard cracks me up!

- What's that? - Nerves of steel.

Dunno what he's doing.

You with Simard?

He's watching the van.

Not scared, alone in the woods with him?

Why?

No, he's helped me discover new erogenous zones.

The guy's rock-hard. Oh-so-hard...

- You screwing with me? - Why would I?

To torture me.

- What for? - You still love me?

Just joking, just kidding around.

Joking, joshing... What the...?

Well.

B�rub� and I... it's real love!

Where's the lovely Genevi�ve? I got a little present for her.

B�rub�'s famous little pills.

I'll deliver the little present.

No, I'll do it.

- Will not. - Will too...

Marc wants to French you!

- You drunk, or just stupid? - Little of both.

Lil' drunk, lil' stupid...

You done with the toilet paper!

Your new buddy wants you to wipe his ass. Go on.

Coming, Charles!

Great. Not too many skeeters.

They're a drag. Especially gnats.

Turning into mini Roto-Rooters, ripping out your flesh...

Remember camping last summer?

I was eaten alive, my head was all scabby.

Good thing my blood clots quickly. I could've bled to death.

We had fun, though.

You clot quickly...

That the best you can do to impress me?

"Hey, girls, this is Marc.

"He clots quickly."

A premature coagulator.

How refreshing.

I've always been a bit special.

That's true.

How "true?"

Kind of guy who secretly watches Sesame Street?

I learn lots of things.

Think I've got 'em.

Xarax and Balcion.

What's my placebo?

Like, as a replacement for you...

Something else... like you...

but not you.

Like a pet that...

you know, you get used to...

a placebo.

That was really lame. Sorry.

Take care, OK?

You OK?

Super!

Today, guys, you're bringing back dinner.

Catch nothing, eat nothing.

Bows, fishing rods...

What I like about you, Jacques...

you're a straight-shooter.

You're not that smart,

but you don't pretend otherwise.

Gee, thanks.

You're not one to rack your brains.

A simple, uncomplicated guy.

So simple, I'm practically insignificant.

You should be proud.

'Cause you're a breath of fresh air.

A breath of fresh air!

Must be hard, rubbing shoulders with big, dumb brutes all day.

Uncle Tardif hardly seems like a rocket scientist.

You'd be surprised.

He's a brilliant guy.

Biker-gang leader is something like a big CEO.

Uncle Tardif hires guys like you to sweep the floor.

- C'mon now. - I mean it.

I've known him 15 years.

- Must be stressful. - That it is.

Don't you ever wanna start fresh?

- Why? - I dunno...

defending the Blood Machines leader can't be easy.

What do you mean?

It's not easy, 'cause...

- It's not easy. - 'Cause...?

'Cause what?

- 'Cause, 'cause... - 'Cause, 'cause, 'cause!

- 'Cause what? - 'C-c-cause...

He's a killer, dammit!

-A killer! - OK, then.

- I'm thirsty. You? - Yeah, me too.

- I'm parched. Got water? - Yes, here.

Much better.

Should've worn boots.

Thanks.

Back off, I've got him.

- Shoot, will ya? - Wait!

What are you waiting for?

Shoot!

What're you waiting for, you wait till it's too late!

Shoot!

What in hell's name is your problem?

He always chokes!

- What are you afraid of? - Sir! Sir!

The partridge's right there.

I left a male and female behind...

You're a lifesaver. We didn't catch a damn thing.

Attention-seeking old clown!

It's not out of spite.

You gotta stake your ground.

Great advice.

I'll file it with the rest in the "meat" section.

Think you and your dad are due for a therapy session.

My lifelong dream, Gilbert.

Is there something you've never told your son?

Something you'd like to share?

Not really.

Listen, I'm real patient,

but starting to wonder what you're doing here.

It's rarely happened, but Bobby has taken people

back to the bus station. Want that?

Then, Jacques, think hard

and tell Marc something you never have before.

Well...

Do I have to say I love him, that I'm proud of him?

If it's sincere.

Let me think, then.

- He doesn't get it? - He really doesn't!

Wait... Something... I've got it.

Remember the brand-new bike you had stolen as a kid?

It wasn't stolen.

What?

I lost big at poker and went broke, so I returned your bike,

got a refund,

and told you it was stolen.

What?

- Never told him that. - 'Course! You sold my bike!

Good, Marc. That's it...

Think of something you never told your Dad.

Uncensored. It's time.

What really gets me is, whatever the situation,

you have to be the center of attention.

You're impossible to ignore, always existing.

You "overexist." It's suffocating.

Plus you're so damn self-centered.

It's all about you.

We're just bit players here to bask in your glory!

It's OK, Jacques.

Stay with it...

Say what you feel.

Words aren't necessary. Just let it out.

That was great.

That was some primal scream!

Thanks.

One rarely experiences such authenticity in my profession.

- It just came out. - Apparently.

You're something special.

I dunno... you're grounded,

you have lots of charisma.

Sorry to interrupt.

What am I, chopped liver?

I want you to respond in kind, with a scream.

One that will express everything bottled up since childhood.

Let's try again.

It must come from here.

Stop overthinking it.

It must come from within. It's like you...

If you say I lack meat, I'll rip your head off.

Move... move, move!

What the hell?

In withdrawal,

B�rub� may experience paranoia for a day,

even months.

Other potential side effects: hysteria,

anxiety attacks and a manic phase.

3 DAYS!

You didn't send this?

- Wasn't me. - Not a word.

3 DAYS!

Wonderful what you can do with "Photochop."

Can I get a copy?

You can do it!

Left!

Roberto, never give up! Try!

Great!

Easy now!

- C'mon! - Yes, sir!

Check this out.

- Easy, Jacques! - C'mon!

Easy, easy!

Stop screwing around! It's dangerous!

Fuck! That's not funny!

Concentrate!

- Hang in there! - Not funny at all!

- Doing great! Hang in there! - Your foot!

Get a grip!

My fault...

My fault...

I know what you're thinking.

- We're not... - Yeah, right.

I hear you talking behind my back.

I agree. I'm a lousy dad!

I'm a lousy role model!

I'm no Bono, no Luc Picard, no Ren� L�vesque!

He smoked, drank, gambled, screwed around!

Did he win his cause?

Did he?

Cut with a penknife.

Best way to get B�rub� back to town...

- Is to eliminate the reason he's here. - His son.

Review all the participants. Killers have infiltrated the group.

I want to know who.

Any news of Jeff?

We got a video.

They got him good.

We've got 2 days.

- What'd she say? - It's serious.

What?

Your one-man show's over.

Learn to work as a team.

We can't lose B�rub� and his kid.

Not for a second.

Thanks for the news flash.

No way our killers are the lovebirds.

I say our number-one suspects are Antoine and Max.

The son has a mercenary's profile and the father...

I once knew a Zen killer.

They're the worst. Completely unflappable.

My money's on Roberto.

'Cause of the biker look?

Among other things.

Look at his kid.

- No way he's faking it. - That a feeling?

Yeah, a feeling.

'Cause he's emotional?

Feelings can't be explained.

- But they're influenced. - By what?

Your age, lack of culture, over-inflated ego,

explosive temper, incipient alcoholism and male menopause,

that hat!

All facets of your personality that cloud your judgment.

Be clear, please.

You're a pig-headed, fox-gazing, brain-addled old lush.

Now I understand.

Boss says it's time to make B�rub� our offer.

- Boss says it's time. - He's not ready.

Tell him the rope was no accident. He'll freak.

No, he's paranoid, hysterical... It's really not the time.

Then when?

When he calms down and sees me as his only hope.

Funny, when I look at you,

the first word that comes to mind isn't "hope."

More like "bulldozer" or "Hummer,"

"West Nile virus," "3-cheese pizza,"

"Liberal," "pitcher of Molson."

But "hope?"

Just say it... I'm goddamn insensitive!

No, I said you had the sensitivity of a 4x4!

Yeah? Lemme tell you...

Think you're due for an intervention.

We can't get separated from the group, 'cause...

For their sake. We can't have them

going off alone into the woods and getting lost...

- Yeah. - Bobby's waiting for them.

You're not budging till you've had a heart-to-heart.

I fuckin' resent you.

Throughout my childhood, teens and adulthood,

I was never smart enough, funny enough,

athletic enough,

worthy of a decent, pretty or hot girlfriend!

Thinking your dad's never been proud of you,

you can't wait to spit on his grave!

You're a spoiled fucking brat!

Try raising a child,

carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders,

having to be the best worker, handyman, lover and father,

and not knowing what to say to your son,

'cause he sucks at hockey, baseball, soccer,

picks his nose at football and finding the words

to praise him when he totally sucks, dammit!

What can I say, Christ? You just plain suck!

I'm no shrink, just a clueless old man!

All right?

And spit on my grave all you like. You'll miss by a mile, dammit!

- OK? - Can we go now?

Hey, Charles.

Seen your kid?

Get off him!

- What were you doing? - 2 pressure points here.

Trying to realign his chakras. They're blocked.

Think I "disaligned" him?

What? Course not.

No need to spare me.

I can take a little criticism! You're condescending!

Fucking goddamn bloody condescending!

I should know!

I've defended killers!

Uncle...

Maybe we shouldn't kill his kid.

If we want him on the ball for trial...

Not kill him, just break his legs.

Still, it's not very nice.

Tough! I want B�rub� home!

Jeez! Watch it, you stupid bimbo!

Don't question my authority! Clear?

My son...

resents the hell out of me.

I need to win his forgiveness.

That's why I came.

To show him I care.

I know I've hurt him.

Relax.

What?

Why always spill our guts?

Charles is right.

What should we talk about?

I dunno, the Habs. The Montreal Canadiens.

Yeah, let's talk about hockey.

When they're good,

damn, they're good!

Young players make the team!

Latendresse!

- B�gin, Lapierre... - The Kostitsyn brothers.

- The bright youth of Quebec. - With fire in their bellies!

- The real deal! - Those guys really moved me.

- Me, too. - It's embarrassing, but last year,

they brought me to tears.

Funny, those guys,

the Habs players...

could be your sons.

They're the same age.

Your sons don't arouse such emotion.

- True. - Go to hell!

Can we peel potatoes without therapy?

According to intel, Jules' dad owns a bar in Matane.

In 2002, Roberto had problems with local bikers.

What does your dad do?

Owns a bar in Matane.

Must be pretty hairy.

Aren't country bars controlled by organized crime?

Dunno.

Don't think so.

Never been to his bar.

Goddammit.

When I was young, one morning, my dad realized he was suffocating,

needed his freedom.

So he ditched Mom and me.

Took him 20 years to get his fill.

Fucking goddamn baby boomers.

Selfish jerks!

The first generation of men to break the Catholic mould. Why?

To find themselves!

When they broke the damn mould, there wasn't much to find!

They became narcissistic parasites.

I hate them!

Our boys' generation is the most spoiled in history.

My son discusses his self-esteem issues,

self-hatred, emotional dependence...

his "inner child."

- What? - His inner child, fuck!

What child? What inner?

Mine's a total computer geek.

Mine, too.

Spend their goddamn days downloading!

Downloading TV shows, music, video games!

They can pirate a movie,

but can't put up a shelf!

That's real complicated!

They've got 345 friends on Facebook,

but not a single one come moving day!

So who do they call?

Daddy!

We didn't come here to bond as men,

but to get away from women!

- Now that's therapy. - Yes, sir!

True, there wouldn't be problems

between fathers and sons if women stopped meddling.

Fathers could instill something other than discipline.

I get up every night to feed the baby.

My wife's a doctor. She works long hours.

So?

My wife...

has raped me.

- What? - C'mon.

I said, "No, I'm tired..."

She's strong enough to rape you, but too tired to feed the baby?

Wake up, buddy!

A toast...

to our wives,

girlfriends, mothers,

sisters and daughters.

I raise my glass...

to the lovely Raphaelle, who took my virginity at 13!

To Raphaelle!

And to Aube Dubois...

who handily won

my graduation-party fellatio contest!

To Aube Dubois!

What's he talking about?

You know, Dad...

fellatio isn't just a holiday treat anymore.

- Really? - Girls these days

are completely uninhibited.

What else?

Girls love threesomes.

But you old guys wouldn't understand.

My girlfriend only "gets off" if I call her a slut.

Sorry, guys, but you didn't exactly invent sex!

I've lived in communes. I've done it all.

Very touching, Dad,

but sex nowadays is a whole other ballgame.

With the Internet...

All-you-can-eat buffet of fantasies!

Here's to fathers learning from their kids.

Our pleasure!

Learning... You've got some nerve.

I've always felt worthless.

Unworthy of a phone call...

a goddamn birthday card!

I fucking hate you!

There are mommy-baby matinees.

If it'll help.

This is bullshit!

Goddamn bullshit!

Wait up.

- I'll join you. - No, you bug me.

Much better.

Say, Marc...

You haven't discussed women, but...

Got a girlfriend?

Well, me...

I just got dumped.

Change the subject. Not funny.

She wouldn't want us discussing it, but that's it.

We're all guys here.

She's not around.

Yeah.

We dated a year.

It was hard, stressful.

Dunno if you've ever felt this, but with Genevi�ve...

it's like I didn't measure up.

- That's not true. - She'd disagree, but it's true.

You're the smartest guy I know.

I'm the smartest guy she knows. She said so.

So I dated a wonderful woman for a year and still love her.

I won't give up. I'll come up with something.

I'll be stronger.

Make her see I deserve a second chance.

Otherwise, she'll be missing out.

Whatever.

Just an excuse to dump you.

No way.

- Fucking hypocrite. - No way!

Type of girl who's never happy, always wants more.

Screw him!

She'd say, go screw yourself.

- Thanks. - No problem.

Much better.

My pal...

- Are we pals? - Yes, sir.

Now that we're pals,

I gotta tell you something. Sit.

I'm listening.

I gotta tell you...

that...

my wife died.

You're not serious.

My sincerest condolences.

8 years ago.

Car accident.

I feel so guilty. It's terrible.

You have no idea...

I wasn't there for my wife, Marie-Claude.

Understand? I wasn't there.

I wasn't there for Marc, my son, either.

I've always been too focused on my damn job.

You don't know what it's like.

But I do.

I never see my wife, my son.

I spend more time with that gang of bums.

I'm getting sick of it.

I can help you.

You?

Help me what?

Change your life.

How?

You have to trust me 100%, though.

No problem.

You want what's best for your wife and son, right?

- That's what you want, right? - Yes.

Right?

- Yeah... Sorry... - What's wrong?

- I dunno, dammit. It hurts. - Come on.

- I'm having a damn heart attack! - What?

Fuck!

- What's happening? - I dunno. He...

Breathe! Breathe!

We were talking, then he started to...

- It's fine... - You OK?

- Anxiety attack. - Yeah?

- Anxiety attack. - Anxiety attack.

Let's go to bed.

You must be tired.

- All right? - Yeah.

I'll be fine.

You're gonna freak...

Think I've identified the killers.

Yeah? Who?

The lovebirds.

Listen before nah-nah-nah-ing. You should've seen them.

When B�rub� didn't want the lovebirds joining you,

they panicked.

Look, on my list,

the lovebirds rank below the namby-pambies.

So... take it easy. So far, so good.

You haven't screwed up too badly. Just let me work.

Marc, we just found out,

2 years ago, Roberto stayed at the same hotel as Uncle Tardif.

He's your surveillance target now.

I told you not to come to my home.

They've hidden the guy in the mansion in the 'burbs.

You're digging your own grave if you waste Jeff Tremblay!

Snake won't say a goddamn word and you've got nothing on me!

What are those 2 twits doing? I want B�rub� in Montreal. Now!

It's going down today!

Whatever it takes... I want B�rub� in my office now!

Of course! Dammit! I've had it!

I'm putting 20 on Jacques.

I look pissed off, but it's just an act!

We're just pretending!

- Dammit! - Sorry.

We really need you! It's important.

We can't draw suspicion, so we're acting natural!

We're undercover cops befriending B�rub� to save an agent,

my best friend, abducted by bikers! Enough!

Lord...

Enough already.

Ordinarily, you'd get the boot.

- This isn't a circus. - A man's life is at stake.

That's why I'll help.

Thank you.

Quit your whining, he'll help us.

I think he's genuinely upset.

- What? - Look.

You really upset?

'Course not. It's acting.

But you're actually father and son.

He's really my son, my boy.

Sorry...

I know you're on a dangerous mission

to save a man's life,

but I gotta tell you,

you two have a damn troubled

father-son relationship.

All right, we'll work on it.

- Can we board now? - You don't wanna hear it?

We gonna save Jeff.

The last activity will be emotionally draining

for everyone.

That's why I provide a transitional place

for this exercise.

A place where men feel at home.

Hey, you!

You have to help us, please talk to your dad.

Make him crack.

You were right, Marc.

The lovebirds are the killers.

There's been lots of recent activity on their credit cards

in Trois-Rivi�res. So our 2 bozos are imposters.

Our killers: the annoying lovebirds?

What?

No kudos for me?

Nice kitchen!

What's up?

You boys have to go.

I know you're imposters.

We got it! Look after the others!

- Union break? Ear sprain? - Like your ass being kicked?

Fear of emotions causes panic attacks.

To reach him, put him in touch with his emotions,

he might listen to you.

Besides, Tim will prepare him.

Charles identifies with you.

- You must talk to him. - Just watch me.

Give me a sign when he's ripe. He'll cave in soon enough.

Perfect. Hop to it, guys!

Strange to say, but...

I owe what I am to you.

I'd like to thank you.

Thanks, Dad.

All my life...

I've been afraid of being...

like a never-ending referendum.

Think it's finally time for you to...

open up...

and talk to your father.

When I was little, I liked watching you...

on TV as you left the courthouse.

You were bold, strong...

facing down the whole world.

So I...

had to be strong, too.

But I couldn't be strong, Dad. I was just a kid.

A kid who looked up to you and craved attention.

But, no, no, no...

You never noticed me.

You always turned away.

What's worse, the few times you looked at me,

it's funny - you'll laugh -

When I was a kid,

not too fat or ugly,

5 or 6 years old,

when you looked at me...

I knew you didn't like what you saw.

Like I'd become...

what you saw in me:

An unlikable little shit.

Funny?

The most pathetic thing is...

that now...

I can't believe in anything!

I don't believe in people, in love, or even in myself.

I'm dead...

Right in here!

Thank you, Tim.

What would you like to tell your son?

Christ, Tim...

Couldn't you see I loved you?

That I loved you so much it almost hurt?

You never saw that?

Know why it hurt me, still hurts me?

When you were young, Tim...

you were a sensitive boy... Delicate.

Fragile. Brilliant.

I'd look at you and...

you reminded me so much of myself...

I couldn't bear it.

When I was young...

I paid dearly for my sensitivity.

My father...

didn't tolerate sensitivity.

Crying earned me a whipping.

So when I looked at you, son, I saw myself...

I hated myself.

I couldn't stand myself.

So I decided to become...

Charles B�rub�, Attorney-at-Law.

The iceman, feared by all.

That's it.

I'm so sorry!

So sorry!

I'm so sorry!

OK...

Think I'm done here.

I'd like to...

discuss something with you.

It's somewhat delicate.

My dad and I aren't really...

a father and son in therapy.

What's this?

We're police officers.

We're here to...

offer your family a place in the witness-protection program.

C'mon, Jacques, say something. What's this nonsense?

I'm a cop.

They're police officers, Dad.

The whole gang?

Just those 2.

Goddamn traitor!

You can't keep living like this.

You know that!

You have to make a move!

For your son!

For your wife!

For Jeff Tremblay, who'll soon be a father.

But above all, Charles...

for you!

For you, Charles.

You...

You son of a bitch!

I want a new life.

You game, son?

I'll tell you what I know, I accept your offer.

Take care of the bikers, I'll get Charles to safety! Hurry!

Hurry!

Everyone under the tables! Move it! Take cover! It's not safe!

C'mon.

That enough meat for you?

Cover them. I'll save Dad and the lawyer.

Get down!

Shit! C'mon, hurry!

I warn you, I have no intention of letting you go on without me!

I wanna live!

Hey, Pinhead. How's it going?

Good.

Uncle wants you back in Montreal. That won't be necessary?

Remember, without me, you'd be in prison.

Killing 3 guys, I deserved it.

There's that.

Drop it!

You won't be enjoying your retirement plan.

You shoot, you die, the lawyer lives and your gang's toast!

Drop the gun!

Drop it, or I'll shoot!

I shot him under the collarbone. Why's he bleeding so much?

Subtitles: Arigon

Sir, no ride-alongs.

He's my father.

B�rub� talked.

Anyway, Marc...

You were really hot.

You didn't hesitate a second.

About time you smartened up.

Raid on Blood Machines

Kidnapped Young Officer Freed after Confinement

Head of Blood Machines Uncle Tardif Arrested

Blood Machines Lawyer's Mysterious Disappearance

Whereabouts of Charles B�rub� and Family Unknown

Slow down.

Igor Gastatchko.

Gang leader.

Age 38.

In Quebec 30 years, suspected of 3 murders.

Loves "Bewitched."

When Darrin was re-cast, he freaked and turned superbad.

- Actually... - Smartass.

He's a perfectionist.

2 dogs: Zap, a Chihuahua; Zip, a Great Dane.

Any more questions?

Hi, Marc.

I'm doing well.

My dad's still a douchebag,

but winter's a breeze.

I'm no longer suicidal,

which, for me, is almost a happy ending.

- Almost! - We're working on it!

Stop! What's he gonna think?

Nice seeing you together!

No need to shout. It's not a hand-crank phone!

Listen, I saw your dad's Hawaiian shirt.

If that doesn't destroy your will to live, nothing will!

Everything's fine here.

Jacques is eligible for retirement in 5 years.

We're counting the days.

If I do take it, I'll teach at the Police Academy,

teaching the "oomph!"

We're gonna be late. Coming?

Well, that's it, boys.

Bye!

Take care now.

Hanging up now. Bye!

Goddammit.

Freakin' pain in the ass!

Come turn this off.

Appointment.

Translation and Subtitling Danielle Gauthier; CNST, Montreal

Downloaded From www.AllSubs.org