Original subtitles

" Enter a name or an address here"

" blanche.loiseau@WarmMail.con"

All angels are terrifying - Rainer Maria Rilke

Hello, Blanche. l got your name and electronic address from a person

who prefers to remain anonymous.

You may not remember me,

but we met Saturday night, the first day of February holidays,

at the Martian Rockers' Ball.

We danced together once, without speaking.

l've been thinking about you ever since.

lf you agree to reply to me, you'll make me very happy.

lt'll be a good deed.

My name is Virgile.

My name is Virgile.

P.S.

lf you're having trouble picturing me,

here's a hint: l was wearing a woolly hat.

l see you haven't replied to my note.

l'm hoping your silence will not be eternal.

Words call for words.

" manoftheseas@ColdMail.fr"

l did receive your message,

but l don't know what to reply.

To be honest, l don't remember you at all.

What neighbourhood do you live in?

Perhaps we could see each other?

Usually, during February holidays, l leave.

But are you leaving this year?

My mother will decide.

What's your family like?

l live with Mom.

Do you have brothers or sisters?

l have a cat.

A cat doesn't count.

Yes, it does.

For the time being, you haven't left.

We could see each other, tomorrow for example.

Why do you want to see me?

We live on two different planets.

Then l'm a Martian who dreams of Earth.

The other night,

you came to the Martian Rockers' Ball.

You must find us somewhat interesting.

l hadn't thought of that.

l think about you so much that you are present beside me,

like a ghost l can see, but who has no body.

To me you're like a ghost l can hear,

because l don't know what your face looks like.

lf you search for it, you'll find my face,

which is in your memory.

l'm sorry. l see nothing.

The face you have forgotten sees yours.

You'll remember it if you think of my hat,

which you must have noticed.

Everyone notices it.

l still see nothing.

l'm sorry l answered you so bluntly yesterday,

but l don't remember much about that ball.

lt was so crowded and so noisy.

What's your family like?

Since it's school holidays, l got up late.

Then l met up with some friends.

Now l have a moment to reply to you.

There's nothing extraordinary about my tribal environment.

Though l live in the 6th arrondissement,

my family is not recomposed.

l live with what are now called my biological parents,

who are actually even married, and l have two brothers.

Everyone gets on quite well.

l'm mainly interested in cinema.

Up until three days ago, it was my only passion.

l have no passions, but l read a lot.

l live in the 7th arrondissement, perhaps not far from you.

My family is decomposed.

Aside from Mom and l, there's no one,

not even any grandparents.

l love my mother very much.

What l'm feeling now,

l could never have imagined a week ago.

" The Princess of Cleves"

l love you, Blanche.

l love you.

" You have no new messages."

lt took me a while to reply to you

because l spent the whole afternoon with Mom.

We went for a walk, and we talked a lot.

Tonight she invited me to go to the theatre with her.

lt's in the suburbs.

Mom likes innovative plays that are highly philosophical.

They're always in the suburbs.

When l go to them with her, l always feel intimidated.

l will reply to your last message,

but l don't have time right now.

lf l'm too tired tonight after the theatre,

l'll write you tomorrow morning.

l'm sick.

lt came on last night at the theatre.

The play may have triggered it, it was very difficult.

The actors were in the dark,

all we could see on stage was a metal curtain,

like shop fronts have.

The audience was feverish.

lt must have been contagious.

Mom's looking after me.

She says it's not serious,

but that l must rest today.

l'm happy that your mother is there to look after you.

lt's encouraging that you had the strength to write me today.

l feel better today.

Mom suggested getting me out of Paris for some air.

We're leaving in a little while.

But we'll be back tonight, so l'll write more then.

l'm glad you're feeling better,

and that you get on so well with your mother.

But l'm still awaiting your reply.

Mom has decided to leave tomorrow for a few days.

l'm going to stay here.

So Mom and l have much to talk about.

Now l'm the one who's surprised not to have received a reply.

But this is my last night with my mother before she leaves,

and she's waiting for me.

This morning, l almost told Mom about you.

But in the end, l didn't .

People who love each other always part.

And now, Mom is gone.

Now you're on your own.

Maybe it's just as well.

l told you l loved you.

That's not a trivial thing.

How can you love me?

We've never spoken.

We saw each other, and everything was expressed.

We saw each other, and everything was expressed.

What you say is absurd.

l've never said anything more rational.

Don't you look at every girl you dance with?

l don't see in their eyes what l saw in yours.

What did you see in mine?

My reflection, and your road.

My road?

The road you must follow.

l also glimpsed what we can see with our ears.

How can we see with our ears?

When we become a correspondence.

A correspondence?

When we sense we're becoming a link between two pieces of the world.

What do you mean?

lt makes something visible resonate.

Like a word.

What you're saying is not very rational.

What l'm talking about has nothing to do with reason.

What is it then?

Something natural.

l believe you truly love me.

What you've written me fills me with joy.

You want me to tell you l love you, too,

and that l'm happy.

lf it were true, it wouldn't be bad news.

Because you love me without reason,

or by the grace of something that is beyond your reason and mine,

l feel swept up.

Maybe in anothertime l'd have told you l love you

and that l'd found happiness.

But l cannot accept your love, and l cannot be happy.

Are you distraught because your mother has left?

Her absence gives you back your freedom.

On the contrary,

her absence puts me before a presence l cannot escape,

a presence which means l shall never be free.

Explain.

There is another boy between us.

His name is Eustache.

Now l understand. lt's very simple.

You don't understand. lt's very complicated.

He's a boy who observed me, a boy l never saw.

Like me.

Yes.

But one of my classmates knew him

and told me about him.

Eustache was older than us, he was doing his studies.

But my classmate also said he was doing nothing.

Maybe for Eustache, his studies were nothing.

That's probably it.

- You never saw him? - No.

But he has seen you?

According to my classmate, yes.

Where?

ln a square where l sometimes go to read.

Why is he so important?

One day l received a package.

lnside there was a blue woolly hat

and a scrap of paper with a single word scribbled on it:

" Eustache"

That's all?

l didn't understand.

lf we hadn't had that mutual friend,

l'd never have known anything about Eustache.

What did you learn?

The night before l received the package,

Eustache hung himself, with his scarf,

from a beam in his room.

Why?

The only sign he made to explain his action

was sending me his hat.

lt's difficult to imagine.

Taking a scarf,

something we use everyday to keep away the cold,

and using it to end one's life,

by cutting off one's breathing

and breaking one's body under its own weight.

But why is this poor soul an obstacle for us?

His presence won't leave me.

He cannot blame you for anything.

l am responsible for his death.

No.

He's the one who chose to make his living body inanimate matter.

lt was a decision he made freely.

But he bound me to his choice.

No. You have, like me, a living body

and a name which is yours alone.

and a name which is yours alone.

The presence stays close to me, like a living body.

lf part of him stays close to you,

it's because he wants you to help him.

- To do what? - To go.

Where?

Down the road he must follow.

To heaven? l don't believe in it.

No. He must return to life.

The dead do not return to life.

Nothing ever ends.

Life emerged from the sea, which will swallow everything up.

Then life will emerge from it again.

Free Eustache. Send him into the sea.

How?

Through our love.

Our love excludes him.

No. He is part of our love.

Between him and us there is an impenetrable border.

There will be no more border if you make our love real.

You've told me this love exists in you: Virgile.

You've made it exist in me: Blanche.

So it is real.

lt will be real when we come together in the world.

No. ln the world it will dissolve,

like Eustache's life.

What we've experienced since l began writing you is real.

What we could experience in the world would be real, too.

They are different realities.

They would destroy one another.

No. They cannot exist without one another.

lf you don't expose our love to the light of day,

you will be like Eustache,

a presence without a body, a name without a path.

You're religious.

l've always been warned about religion.

l believe in many things.

l see all around me images that have meaning.

ln my bedroom l have a religious image.

l don't even know what this image corresponds to.

lt frightens me, but l keep it.

We mustn't be afraid of things we can see.

Even if they are incomprehensible things?

All images announce the word.

Eustache is a void, and a silence.

But didn't you call him a presence?

Yes.

That presence has seen the empty void. lt seeks the full void.

What do you mean by the full void?

lt brings us to the light of words, and to freedom.

But l myself am not free.

Eustache's presence possesses me.

ln the light of words is his freedom, and yours.

His love, and ours.

Do you believe in God?

l believe all the images we can see form one greater image,

which will always be invisible.

l can't imagine what it looks like,

but l can't imagine that it doesn't exist.

Don't close your eyes, Blanche. Don't close your eyes.

You will see the sign of our love.

l have seen the word you announced to me.

The time has come for us to meet.

l'm still afraid of losing what we've made real.

What is real has nothing to fear.

Especially not another reality.

Tomorrow morning, at eleven,

l'll wait for you in the square where you sometimes read.

l nevertold you the name of the square.

When we have seen certain images,

we can guess the others.

That's true. l remember your hat now.

- Really? - Yes.

What does it look like?

Exactly like Eustache's , except it's bright red.

l'm leaving for the square now.

Are you coming?

Yes, l'm coming.