Original subtitles

This film is in the form of a fugue.

"Listen attentively to my response: what you believe and what I say

"will meet at the truth, as in the center of a circle."

- I'd like the music louder. - OK.

- Is it interesting? - Bah...

A banal story.

The classic triangle.

The husband, the wife and the other person.

The writing's not bad.

Shall we start over?

Ok, are you ready?

Camera.

Zoom.

Slowly.

Cut.

Is it OK?

It was fine.

- Sophie. - Winter.

He will be a painter.

His name will be Mark.

The tree.

- Articulate "tree" more clearly. - The tree.

Again.

The tree.

No, in between, if you can,

like you said "tree" earlier well... halfway...

Tree.

Tree.

Reflection.

Take... Yes.

Take the tree.

Now, the reflection.

Take the reflection.

Julien and his cameraman Michel are shooting

a short documentary film in Bruges.

Zoom.

What meaning will you give all this?

Don't know.

Is Sophie coming tomorrow?

The producer is coming the day after tomorrow.

You're strange.

I'm talking about Sophie.

Yes, she's coming tomorrow.

"The Beheading of St John the Baptist."

She seems to interest you.

I ran into her on the Pont de l'�ne Aveugle.

I didn't dare approach her.

"Iago:

"if I can fasten but one cup upon him

"With that which he hath drunk tonight

"He'll be as full of quarrel and offense As my mistress' dog.

"Now, my sick fool Roderigo,

"Whom love hath turn'd almost the wrong side out,

"To Desdemona hath tonight carous'd

"Potations pottle-deep; and he's to watch.

"Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits

"Have I tonight flustered with flowing cups,

"And they watch too.

"Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards

"Am I to put our Cassio in some action That may offend the isle."

"Juliet:

"Go ask his name.

"If he be married. My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

"The nurse: His name is Romeo,

"and a Montague, the only son of your great enemy.

"Juliet: (aside)

"My only love sprung from my only hate!

"Too early seen unknown, and known too late!

"Prodigious birth of love it is to me,

"That I must love a loathed enemy."

"Listen! Listen!

"I see that you are getting weary with me.

"You count the moments, you turn your head.

"Do not go yet:

"it is perhaps the last time that I shall see you."

"Petruchio: Be patient, gentlemen;

"I choose her for myself: If she and I be pleased,

"what's that to you?

'"Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone,

"That she shall still be curst in company. I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe

"How much she loves me: O, the kindest Kate!

"She hung about my neck; and kiss on kiss

"She vied so fast That in a wink she won me to her love.

"O, you are novices!

'"Tis a world to see, how tame, when men and women are alone,

"how a meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew,

"Give me thy hand, Kate:

"I will unto Venice, To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding day.

"Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests;

"I will be sure my Katharina shall be fine."

You were right.

You should stop talking.

I mean you should turn that off.

I could have shot a great film here.

I could have shot a great film here.

I regret just shooting a documentary.

I shouldn't have pushed you to accept it.

How do you find the city?

Very beautiful.

A Shakespeare drama, that's what should be shot in Bruges.

I'm bored of you.

Or Lorenzaccio.

Romeo and Juliet.

What are you doing tomorrow?

Wandering around.

In Sophie's wandering, we see Julia step in.

Here I'll do a pan.

"One evening David arose from his bed

"and walked on the roof of the palace.

"From the roof he saw a woman bathing.

"The woman was very beautiful,

"and David sent someone to find out about her.

"The man said, 'She is Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam

"'and the wife of Uriah

'"the Hittite.'

"Then David sent messengers to get her.

"She came to him, and he slept with her.

"When she had purified herself from her uncleanness, she returned home.

"The woman conceived

"and sent word to David,

"saying, 'I am pregnant.�

Memling, the Fra Angelico of the North

whose composition would be copied by Antonello da Messina.

It's funny, this morning we went to film the Hans Memling statue.

We found it covered...

Probably to protect it from the cold.

Memling became a citizen in 1465.

Memling was a soldier under Charles the Bold.

He fell ill in 1477

and asked for refuge in Saint John's hospital.

In the film From Russia With Love,

James Bond discovers a guy is American because he drinks

red wine with fish.

�Wounded at the battle of Nancy, he was close to dying.

He managed to recover his health.

He chose a cell and set to painting "The Reliquary of St. Ursula."

Today I was walking in the snow...

"The Mystic Marriage of Saint Catherine."

At the end of his life, Memling left for Italy.

He crossed Spain.

He died in a convent near Burgos. This may be a legend.

...could be any other effigy, even a Commander.

Imagine the surprise of a city worker,

coming to uncover the statue in spring,

the statue of Hans Memling,

and finding instead the statue of a Commander

who shakes his hand.

Mark. I also met an old British painter.

I think he was painting the bridge L'�ne Aveugle.

Or Hydromel...

I'm not sure, is that the name?

Or maybe another, I don't know.

A man followed me all morning.

That doesn't seem to affect him.

This morning I went to the Groeninge Museum.

It was nice that painters had generous patrons.

It allowed them to live and paint in peace.

The patrons were demanding.

They always wanted their portrait in the corner of the frame.

Like The Virgin and Child with Canon van der Paele.

That still produced some masterpieces.

Today there are film producers.

Gerard David.

They're a little more demanding.

"Arrest of the Corrupt Judge.�

�Mater Dolorosa"

attributed to Van der Weyden.

"The St. John Alterpiece�

Central panel: "The Mystic Marriage of Saint Catherine."

Jan van Eyck.

Marguerite van Eyck.

Madame van Eyck.

"Portrait of the Artist's Wife.�

Hieronymus Bosch.

"The Last Judgement.�

Did you know the torturer was a judge?

A judge. No, I didn't know that.

These people do their work carefully,

unemotionally.

How could that exist?

It still exists.

You're as beautiful as this girl painted 400 years ago by Petrus Christus

whose portrait pleased Kaiser Frederick in Berlin.

You're more beautiful than the Mona Lisa.

Do you know the Portrait of a Young Girl by Petrus Christus in the Berlin museum?

No. And you?

Me neither.

Some butter, please.

No, thanks.

I can't stand the sight of that.

The sight of what?

Those deceitful judges.

Yet you seem fascinated.

Yet you seem fascinated.

I don't know.

The glazed eyes of those kids.

The perversity of those people.

The executioners' professional attitude.

That dog pissing.

I don't know what pissing dog he's talking about.

Why does she look so stern?

She is beautiful.

She is beautiful.

I saw that man again.

He approached me.

He's a painter.

I have to talk to my producer.

Thanks.

I regret encouraging Julien to take this job.

Why?

He seems to regret it.

I think you're mistaken, Sophie.

He's looking for something else. I don't know what.

He may not even know himself.

Has he told you anything?

No.

He's obviously looking for something.

It's like I didn't exist anymore.

He's living for his film, his project,

with its characters.

It's... like I didn't exist anymore.

He's living for his film, his project,

with its characters.

It's like a trap closing in on him.

Yes.

I'd like to be a character in his film.

He should have you act.

You're a wonderful actress, Sophie.

You really think so?

- No. - Idiot!

Good morning, Mr. Director.

Good morning, Mr. Cameraman.

Strange character.

Death!

Nothing sad!

Long live joy!

Mie Katoen comes tomorrow

and we'll have a drink.

Mie Katoen comes tomorrow and we're going to dance.

Another story

one of the saddest...

I'm going to tell you

a somber tale.

No more princess!

No one knows where she is.

What misfortune!

The king must not know of it!

Death!

Strange character.

Death!

Sometimes it dances.

Here comes the king

with an accordion.

Here they are dancing.

It isn't so terrible then!

A friendly wave!

It's very rare

to see a king dance.

He loses his accordion!

It's nothing.

Not important!

Dance again, Sire!

This is a rare occasion.

Sophie's bored, I think.

She feels alone.

She wants to be involved in what you're doing.

You should have her act.

You want to check?

Did she tell you that?

My Florindo is dead.

Sadness is my fate.

His eyes have gone dark.

And I, his dear wife...

I remain hopeless.

Unhappy am I!

Dead, my Florindo!

What I had, dead!

My hope, dead!

What use is it... this useless life...

for whom I lived?

Without his fight?

The storm carried away

my unfortunate love.

He left his country...

abandoned his parents...

to expose himself...

to dangerous adventures...

and the accidents of life.

Thus acted Florindo.

And my Florindo is dead.

Misfortune Beatrice.

To the loss of a brother is added the loss of a spouse.

To the death of Frederico...

heaven wanted to add that of Florindo.

If I am the cause of their death...

why does heaven not take its revenge?

- Continue. - I don't remember the rest.

What comes next?

What's your next line?

Useless tears?

Good. Continue your lines.

"The sun of my eyes said to me:

"You're burning to gain more knowledge of what you see.

"Your desire pleases me.

"But before your burning thirst can be relieved

"you must drink this water."

'The high desire that now inflames and moves thee

"To have intelligence of what thou seest,

"Pleaseth me all the more, the more it swells.

�But of this water it behoves thee drink

"Before so great a thirst in thee be slaked."

Look, newlyweds!

"Thus said to me the sunshine of mine eyes."

I met her in Venice at the Verde Theater, San Giorgio.

She was rehearsing a play by Goldoni.

I didn't want her to continue in that profession.

Is it ok?

Excuse me, I don't speak Flemish.

He probably wanted to know if we're shooting a movie.

That's my husband.

- Where are you staying? - Hotel Rembrandt Rubens.

- Me too. - That's funny, I never saw you there.

You know the small staircase on the 2nd floor that seems to go nowhere?

I live there.

- So you have no subject? - Cinema is no longer about anecdotes.

It's a language in itself.

It's a vision... I don't know.

But I do know.

Go try to make distributors understand that, or the audience.

For the woman, who do you have in mind?

I don't know.

You need a star.

I brought you a subject.

I bought the rights. I have a distribution deal.

You'll see, it's a subject for you. A beautiful story,

simple, human, with resonance and repercussions.

I'd like to shoot it here.

What are you doing now?

Whatever, don't think about it.

You act like you don't understand.

Be serious, Julien. I'm bringing you something solid.

What shall we do?

Shall we go?

Stay for just a moment.

Camera.

Pan.

Pan.

Pan a little faster.

Cut and look at the camera, Julien.

Cut.

I went to a Flemish mass this morning at the Basilica of the Holy Blood.

I plan to shoot a scene but I don't yet know which.

What's your producer's subject?

A famous surgeon, too busy with his career, abandons his wife.

She feels the pain of the void of her existence

and gets lost in the futility of a fantastic world

that gives her the illusion of living.

She discovers a handsome idler...

- a handsome idler -

who hides his faults behind artistic pretentions...

When Mary of Burgundy died,

the population, the mob, came out from under every stone.

The people revolted,

a terrible revolt

that spilled a lot of blood.

Pierre Lanchals sided with Maximilian.

He was seized

and without any trial his head was cut off.

However, the people's revolt was quashed.

The death of the poor judge, seeking revenge,

reparations were demanded.

It was noticed that Lanchals had placed a swan in his coat of arms.

The emperor ordered the people of Bruges,

to pay for their crime,

be forced to raise in their canals,

hieratic swans with long flexuous necks.

...who hides his faults behind artistic pretentions,

and the inevitable happens - dot dot dot.

�Abandon hope all ye who enter here.

"But one point only was it that o'ercame us.

"When we read how the longed-for smile Being by such a noble lover kissed,

"This one, who never shall be parted from me

"Kissed me upon the mouth all trembling."

"A single instant overcame us."

�That day we read in it no further.�

"When we read how the longed-for smile

"was kissed by so renowned a lover,

"Paul who never shall be parted from me,

"all trembling, kissed me on my mouth.

"That day we read in it no longer."

Film, what a job!

M�li�s is dead. Eisenstein is dead. Dreyer is dead.

And this morning, I don't feel so well.

So I read your script.

I accept.

Julien, it's not possible!

Why?

Well, your film...

My film doesn't exist. He told me so.

Julien is right to accept. We'll make a great film.

A grand film.

Yes, like this.

"Then I stretched out my hand and plucked a twig from a tall them-bush."

"I stretched out my hand and plucked a twig from a tall thorn-bush,

"And its stem cried out...

"Michel, why do you break me?

"When it ran dark with blood

"it cried again:

"Why do you tear me?

"Have you no pity in you?

�We once were men

"and now are turned to thorns.

"Your hand might well have been more merciful

Had we been souls of snakes."

Gerard David 1460-1523.

"The Baptism of Christ."

Hugo van der Goes.

"Death of the Virgin."

"Marguerite van Eyck"

"Wife of the Painter."

Attributed to Van der Weyden.

"Philip the Good."

"Along this path a tight rein must be kept upon the eyes,

"for here it would be easy to misstep.�

"Along this path a tight rein must be kept upon the eyes,

"for here it would be easy to misstep. �

"Moreel Triptych"

Right panel:

"Barbara van Vlaenderberch, her patron saint and her daughter."

Around 1484.

Why are you unhappy?

How do you know?

I felt it.

I sensed you behind me.

You're an actress and you've given up?

No.

It was before my marriage.

Why are you an actress?

You like to paint?

I think we're made for one thing in life.

You're an actress and you've given up?

No.

It was before my marriage.

Why are you an actress?

You like to paint?

I think we're made for one thing in life.

I don't have a clear conscience when I'm not painting.

Conscience.

I've been married for six years.

I like when the mind is incarnated in the material.

When I acted, I don't know if I was happy or unhappy.

There was no more time, no nothing.

I'd like to find that again.

What, being overtaken?

It's funny.

Yet it's in life that I sometimes feel like someone else.

For you, there's no transition from your life as a man and as a painter.

You're available. You live.

And your husband?

Look towards her.

Pieter Pourbus.

"Portrait of Adrienne de Buc."

Pieter Pourbus.

"Portait of Jean Fernagut."

"How beautiful and how pleasant you are, my beloved. Charming girl.

"Your stature is like a palm tree, your breasts like its fruit.

"I said, I will climb up into the palm tree.

"Let your breasts be like clusters of the vine.

"The smell of your breath like apples.

"Your mouth like the best wine,

"running down my lips and my teeth.

"I am my beloved's and she is mine.

"I am the object of her desires.

"Let's go, my beloved, let us go forth into the field,

"spend the night in the orchard."

I'm leaving tomorrow for Florence. Do you want to come with me?

I'm Italian. But I don't know Florence.

Sophie! Hi!

Are you coming up?

No. Come down.

Ok, I'm coming.

Michel...

I can't take it anymore. I was walking, I was walking...

Earlier, boys on motorcycles were following me.

Do you want a drink?

A cognac.

A cognac, please.

As if I didn't see them.

All these stone lions following me.

Yes, stone lions that remind me of my city, of Venice.

I don't know where I am with Julien anymore.

I'd like to go and find Julien.

He's unhappy isn't he, for giving up his project?

Yes, yes.

Thanks.

Michel, I can't take it anymore.

I was walking, I was walking.

Earlier, boys on motorcycles were following me.

Two of them were circling around me.

I was afraid.

I acted like I didn't see them.

Lions?

Yes. Stone lions that remind me of my city, of Venice.

Venice. Where Julien...

Yes.

Yes.

Look down.

I don't know where I am with Julien anymore.

He's unhappy, isn't he, for giving up his project?

Go where?

But Julien is here.

Find Julien.

But Julien is here.

�Enter,

"but I give you warning That forth returns whoever looks behind."

�Enter; but I give you warning That forth returns whoever looks behind."

"Fix in direction of thine eyes the mind,

"And make of them a mirror for the figure That in this mirror shall appear to thee."

"Fix in direction of thine eyes the mind,

"And make of them a mirror for the figure That in this mirror shall appear to thee."

I'm leaving for Florence tomorrow.

Do you want to come with me?

I'm leaving for Florence tomorrow. Do you want to come with me?

I'm leaving for Florence tomorrow. Do you want to come with me?

Yes, I visited the Memling Museum today.

It's strange.

They're all over the city.

Yes, all those faces that don't die, on canvases.

And yet, it's death.

I would have liked to paint.

Have you ever been afraid of death?

But I would have done nothing.

No.

As we did before.

As we do with our lives.

As we did before.

"Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come.

"Behold, the winter is past. The rain is over and gone.

"The flowers appear on the earth.

"The voice of the turtledove is heard.

"The fig tree ripens her green figs.

"They give forth their fragrance.

"Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.

"My dove in the clefts of the rock,

"In the hiding places of the mountainside.

"Let me see your face.

"Let me hear your voice.

"For your voice is sweet, And your face is lovely."

You don't know it?

Yes, it's the Sung of Songs.

I didn't know you knew it.

"The painter's life is devoted to the realization of his dreams.

"The greatest have represented theirs in all their force and with nothing changed.

"Their imagination was a fertile tree.

"The buds were easily transformed into flowers.

"And the flowers into fruit.

"Presently the fruit ripened under a kindly sun

"and when they were ripe, they detached themselves

"and fell to earth without losing a particle of their virginal bloom.

"Alas! the dreams of mediocre artists are plants difficult to nourish,

"which are watered with bitter tears to make them thrive at all.

"...to make them thrive at all."

- Why are you reading that? - It's Lorenzaccio.

"The painter's life is devoted to the realization of his dreams.

"The greatest have represented theirs in all their force and with nothing changed.

"Their imagination was a fertile tree.

"The buds were easily transformed into flowers and the flowers into fruit."

Why are you reading that?

I wanted to film her but she refused.

You think they all want to make films.

Do you think they should sleep together?

It's not necessary but why are you asking me,

since you abandoned your project?

- I'm cold. - We're entering winter.

Cut!

That was good but we're going to do it again.

Places.

Ready.

Camera.

Winter, 322, Take 2.

When you're ready Sophie.

I'm cold.