All language subtitles for Les.Trottoirs.De.Saturne.1986.1080

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The Sidewalks of Saturn

Paris, 27 October 1986

- What's going on?
- I couldn't say, sir.

He hasn't come.
Something must be happening to him.

I'm going to try
calling someone.

Mme. Mallet is out.
Who's calling?

No, she won't be back today.
Do you want to leave a message?

Ah, yes!
Try calling her at home.

Yes, Frank, it's me.

How's Fabián?

What? He didn't come?

No, Frank, I have no idea.
No news.

I don't know anything about it.
Maybe.

See you later.

Yes?

Yes, Mario, it's me.

No, he isn't here.

He didn't go to the
recording either.

I came, but nothing.

No, he didn't come by here.

If you want.
Should I come to you?

Sorry.

They've just arrived from Aquilea.

I don't know where we're can
put them up for the first days.

Oh yeah, I got a work permit
for the sociologist.

What border did they cross?

No idea.

But they've been traveling
for more than a month.

Boat, train, car.
They're coming everyday now.

Don't get so angry, Danielle.
He'll reappear.

But it's been 5 days
that he's been going to reappear.

Yes. But he'll reappear.

You know, Danielle, recently
we haven't been very well.

Fabian is never well.
And when he complains, it's worse.

Where are we going?

Come on.
Get in the car.

Did you go to the warehouse?
- I don't even know where it is.

You've already gone?
- I found it for him.

- Hola Toni.
- Hola.

Good evening Madame.

- Are you alone?
- Yes, Mario.

He hasn't come.
Is that what you want to know?

- He had a recording today.
- Yes, I know. He didn't go?

We're going to rehearsing here.
Next Saturday.

I came to tidy up a little
and since I was here...

Laura might know something.

Maybe.

I'll see you later at the Estrapade.

Despite the intentions announced
by General Bernardi,

the strong man of the military junta... *

Do you want to come in Danielle?

So, he didn't go?

Hi Danielle.
And Fabián?

Come have dinner with us.
- Let's go.

We don't want to have dinner all alone!
- Mom, stay with us!

Finish eating.
And close the door.

Danielle, come have
dinner with us!

Fabián has always
been my friend.

I left Mario and
it didn't change anything.

No one knows him better than me.
That's why you're here.

It's true, Laura.

But I don't know where he is.
I can't tell you anything.

In the end, it's not
the first time he's disappeared.

Never for so long.

What do you have
against me, Laura?

Nothing Danielle, believe me.
Really, nothing.

Did you see the news Tuesday?
- I heard about it.

Come here.

Sit down.

Now for foreign news,

first with the still
troubling situation in Aquilea.

There now is our special
correspondent Roger Muyard

who will go into detail on the
very serious events

that are shaking this great
Latin American country.

New episodes of bloody repression
by the armed forces and police

have again inundated Aquilea.

This morning, a new
mass grave was discovered

a few kilometers from the capital.

The bodies of more than
90 men and women,

made unrecognizable by explosives.

Assault troops are holding
cities and the countryside...

Do you want to see more?

Not long after
returning to order,

Aquilea had to face acts
of terrorism

by heavily armed
revolutionary groups

demanding a radicalization
of government policies.

We should perhaps emphasize that
this appearance took place

16 years after the first appearance
of guerrillas in this country.

An appearance that set off the
terrible events everyone remembers

and that are strangely
being repeated today.

Under the pretext of liquidating
the guerrillas and pacifying the country,

last August 25th, the army
overthrew the president

- elected by popular
vote 3 years before -

and took the state
into its own hands.

Despite the intentions
announced by General Bernardi,

a military strong man,
the situation is worse than ever.

Para-military groups search
in the middle of the night,

sack and pillage houses
and lock up residents.

Amnesty International is estimating
50,000 people have disappeared

and this does not
seem to have stopped.

People are talking about torture,
mutilated bodies discovered daily,

and bodies thrown in the river
at night from helicopters.

The repression extends now to every
person, institution, union,

political party, artistic and
research center,

high schools and universities that
risk having any connection

with ideas the generals in
power wish to destroy

"Against the terror, the horror"
said one of the generals.

And we must admit that the
limits of the horror

seem capable of moving
back indefinitely.

Here, Roger Muyard, Aquilea.
Back to you, Paris.

I have a lot of these.
I'm recording everything.

If you have time one day...

Fabián left 13 years ago
because he wanted to.

It's like if we went out
and left the gas on.

We'd here an explosion
and be told the house is ruined.

Of course.
And his solution is to disappear.

It's his way of coping.
One way like another.

Laura, who is Arolas?

Arolas? It's a ghost, Danielle.
A ghost.

Well?

It's troubling.
Do you want us to tell the police? - No.

Good evening Frank.
- Any news?

I think we should
let the audience know.

And the police too.

- You think?
- He isn't in the habit of doing this.

How's the architect?

Hysterical because
of the musician.

Once again.

It's making me go gray.

It already happened to me.
I dye mine.

Okay Pablo?
What are you laughing at?

We're not really laughing, Danielle.

The new I announced earlier
as just been confirmed.

For health reasons, Fabián Cortés
can not be with us this evening.

But his band will try to
make up for his absence

with their usual talent.

- Did you talk to Laura?
- She knows nothing and doesn't worry.

Who is Arolas?
- Why?

Fabian talk to you about Arolas too?

Yes, he met him several times.

He arrived very excited.
He said he'd talked music with Arolas.

Who is this Arolas?

He's a very famous
tango musician in our country.

A great artist.
He also played bandoneon.

We called him the Tiger.
The Bandoneon Tiger.

And he can't be found?
Maybe he knows something.

Danielle, Arolas died in Paris,
60 years ago.

- That's enough, Dominique.
- You might say he's making fun of you.

Or he's talking
to you in riddles.

If he says he's met a colleague
who died 60 years ago,

he's probably telling
you a coded message.

You just have to decipher it.

Don't laugh Dominique.
This time it's serious.

If it was at least true that
he was never going to reappear...

Although he's rather picturesque...

Well, you had to fall
for a bandoneonist.

Why not a gypsy violinist?

Dominique...

Dominique...

You can cry after all.

It’s the first time he’s
left for so long.

He’s not the type to
throw himself in the Seine.

He just needs more time this time
to consider the situation.

Have some tea.

They’re tiring me out:
him, his friends, everyone.

I can’t take it anymore.

Let's not exaggerate.

It must be the story of the bridge.
Did he talk to you about a bridge?

He said something to me about
a bridge a few days ago.

I don’t care.
I’ve had enough.

He's lived here for years.
He plays bandoneon, he’s very successful.

He sighs on the one hand,
and on the other he earns money.

And, moreover, he runs away.
I hate deserters.

It’s the story of the
bridge that changed everything.

He’s never cared about
what’s happening in Aquilea.

And suddenly what’s happening
there is all that counts.

People have been killing
each other in Aquilea for 2 years.

You’re going to stop looking,
if I understand you.

How are you, Madam?

I'm OK, Mirko.

What’s happening?

What do you mean 'what’s happening’?
Why didn’t you go play yesterday?

I was getting some rest.
But I just called on the phone.

I was just going there.

We were almost worried.
Will you excuse us?

These French,
always alarmists.

Are you okay?

Will you take me there?
Ciao, Mirko!

Ciao! See you soon.

He's coming! He's coming!

Couldn’t you have called the studio?
The director will be mad.

You must be here Monday at 5pm,
no excuses.

I just can't go on like this.

He must become reasonable.
I’m saying this for his sake.

Fucking Orpheus.

Here he is back from the hole...

Orpheus bothers you...

He hurts all over and I think
it's making him tremble.

...he needed, understandably,
to briefly stop his new activities

and after a few days of
solitude and reflection,

our dear, great artist,
always his own equal,

is once again with us,
alive and well,

ready to offer us one
of his brilliant performances!

- Maipo?
- Not Maipo.

Arolas said the other night
that we couldn't play it.

Ah, well! If Arolas says so...

Catamarca.

The lawyer's a bit nervous, huh?

I'm sorry.
- Don't touch me!

6 days. 6 days.

I even had to go to the police
and then you welcome me with jokes.

No, you really don't care about me.

You're the only one
who takes everything tragically.

They were all afraid last night.

Why are you hiding?
- Why not?

I'm a big boy, right?
I can leave when I want.

Then leave!
Leave forever!

I can't anymore.

All at once, I can't anymore.

This is all a French prestige
film that's called 'La France'!

Mitterand plays the president
in this big French film

and the newspapers
play the newspapers

and the streets are the sets
and the people going by are the extras.

And you too.

You play the young, leftist,
well-meaning, successful lawyer

taking care of those oppressed
and suffering in the 3rd world.

You too.

And my friends play the immigrants,

more or less well received
in their asylum land.

And all of France plays its
role in the big French film.

But I'm not in this film...
... anymore.

I don't want to play picturesque,
successful tango musician.

I'm not acting...
... in this film anymore.

Well said.

At least you've stopped
pretending nothing's happening.

I've also had enough.
Go figure.

I've had enough of you. Of your friends,
your constant complaining, your tears.

There's a catastrophe in Aquilea,
but it's not the only one.

The rest of the world isn't a spa town.
There are catastrophes everywhere.

God, you don't have
a monopoly on catastrophes.

What's this story about bridge
that you told Dominique?

Bridge? Oh yeah...

I told her the story of the bridge

but I didn't tell her everything.
She wouldn't have understood.

And you wouldn't either.

You others can't understand
the story of the bridge.

Fabián, are you at least going
to explain Arolas to me?

Arolas. What do I have
to explain to you?

Where do you meet him?
In the street? At the club?

Where?

Don't tell me you're
jealous of Arolas.

Arolas died 60 years ago.
Mario told me last night.

And you pretend to meet him everyday.

What does Mario know?

Was he at the burial?

If I tell you Arolas is alive,
it's true.

Or do you want to pass
me off as crazy?

He died, Fabián.
60 years ago.

And you?

Are you alive?

Are you alive? Alive?

Hello?

Who's there?

Hello?

Once again, shit!

Who's talking?

Talk, bastard!

Hang up, motherfucker!

Go fuck yourself!

Doorbell

You again?
- Hello.

Danielle came to see me.

They were all worried.
Where were you?

And the children?

They're with Mario
for the weekend. Well?

- Do you remember the ceramic?
- Which one?

The one we bought in the north.

Of course.
Two identical ones, right?

Of course I remember.

One stayed in Aquilea,
the other is with me.

It broke at my place.

What a pity!
It was so pretty!

In the trash!
And afterwards it was there...

intact on the table.

There were two then...

The other stayed at my sister's!

You're confused!

And if ceramics want to
reproduce, why not?

The worst is friends who disappear.

Where were you?

Everyone wants to know.
What's it matter?

What matters is why!

Are you hungry?
Do you want a mate?

Look...
a card from my sister.

From the Middle East?
She was in Central America...

(sounds quite like a lame
Spanish-French adaptation also)
MERGE IT WITH #297

I really don't know.

Go, work!

I use Saturdays to put
my files in order.

I don't let
anyone else do it.

Everything OK
at your house this morning?

Did you see the letters
I had put on the table?

I saw everything. Thanks.

You have to sign some papers.

Here.
Yes, that's it.

Everything you have to promise
us to become a political refugee, right?

Sign there.

These two and that's it.

Perfect. Very good!

Thank you.
-Thank you.

I'll tell you when the
moment comes to appear in court.

Thank you, thank you!

If you'd like, I have a good
little cognac in the cupboard.

Impossible. They're waiting
for us at the hangar.

I love you.

Me too.

You, here?

Be aware, sir, that Mme. Mallet
is also my lawyer.

Why, are you jealous?

A gentleman from Aquilea jealous?

Well, you're wrong.

Us Jews are...

... jealous like tigers!

And if stone could think...

Tell me,
with all these people arriving,

you must never stop
having documents made.

Yes, I have them made.
Isn't it the least I can do?

These people must have left
in haste from one day to the next.

They could have left peacefully
13 years earlier.

They would only have had
to open their ears.

To be as crafty
as you, you mean?

Listen to me,

one day I left Aquilea for good.

Then I returned and discovered
everyone was thinking the same thing.

It was like a psychodrama.

Some really thought the same thing
and others pretended to think so.

And that could only have
wounded your exquisite sensibility.

I got out.

I don't like everyone
thinking the same thing.

Now, I couldn't go back.

And there's no reason to.

Why?
What about your son?

He's visited me a few times.

When he was 17, I gave him
the gift of the Place des Vosges.

He was enchanted.

Then, he didn't come back.

Why?

He couldn't.

Shall we talk
about my business?

No, sorry.
Over here instead.

The distribution of...

The distribution
of instruments in space.

Osvaldo...

With the quintet now.

I think we could...

I wrote a score

and all the developed parts.

It seems to work.

If we place ourselves
by masses of sound,

the voices must alternate.

After my departure,
I didn't see her again.

It's been 13 years.

Did I tell you she's young?

Yes, idiot! What a question!

You've told me
everything about her.

She's younger than you think.

We're 20 years apart.

My parents were crazy...

having a baby when
they were my age!

They did okay.

And I'll do so too.

- With who?
- With Laura.

In fact, we never divorced.

When she was little,
I took her everywhere.

She hung onto my neck
like a monkey.

Now she sends me postcards
from the Middle East and East Germany!

Always the same thing:
'Kisses, Marta.'

Never any date.

After her escape,
I thought I saw her here.

But it was nothing.

Nothing, except
cards and kisses.

And the rehearsals?

We set up the piano
and talked.

But no music.

It'll come.

Here.

It's not easy.

Arranging old tangos

or playing my pieces
with a septet.

It comes almost on its own,

but what I want to do...

... is not easy.

It's bothered for a long time.

The moment has come

and I'm all dried up.

I can see that...

Bastard!

I was a nomadic musician,

I was a traveling musician,

and a group of
guys blow up Aquilea

and the next day I'm an exile.

Everything changed!
And for you too!

You've become an exile!

But I already was one, Fabián.

Like all of us.
- No! It changed everything!

It's like Arolas' bridge.

The thing about the
bridge is from Arolas!

An exile is nowhere.

You can't live.

Or play bandoneon, of course.

I disappeared in order
to think... to think.

About your return, right?

Return where?
Our Aquilea doesn't exist anymore.

The current one is false!

And is confused
with your memory.

Information, photos, papers.
Everything is false.

Only our memory remains,
our memory!

Some bastard calls me
and doesn't say anything.

Doesn't say anything?
Who is it?

Are you deaf?
I don't know.

He never says anything.

Not a word!

He's dialing
the wrong number.

Of course! He calls me
7 or 8 times a day.

He calls me at night.
He wants to drive me mad!

Yesterday, I broke
a ceramic vase

in 1000 pieces and...
- Yes, I know.

Laura told me.

You scared her.

With me, she acted
like it wasn't important.

She was right. No doubt.

Of course!

Like with Arolas, right?

Arolas is true!
I saw him! Alive!

Fabián! Arolas died
60 years ago.

Here's Arolas!

It says:
died in Paris in 1924.

62 years!

What do they know?

I saw him, I talked to him!

Everyone wants to bury him.

The only one who
understands tango.

Go ahead, idiot.

The same, but a bit older...

Returning to Aquilea
is to be complicit.

Me, complicit!
You're exaggerating a bit, no?

You don't go, but your works is
shown and you're sent the dough.

Where's the difference?

So, what are we doing?

Take the stuff.

- I had to make him come.
- You're the best.

I know!

- Bring out the glasses, Mario.
- The glasses are waiting for you.

Undoubtedly, Dominique.
But I may have a response.

One moment please.

Osvaldo, excuse me...

I have to close the gate.

I'll be back Dominique.

Here, Osvaldo.

We can't say you
came back for nothing.

And me? Can I?

I have something else for you.

It's a tree of words.

You noticed the lack of roots.

Yes, I did it for you.

You can take it,
if you'd like.

You can hang it up at your place.

Because I'm son and grandson of immigrants.

And as immigrants were poor,

they didn't have the right
to be called exiles.

Take a look at it, please.

Can you help me, Dominique?

A professional of my class
doesn't translate on Sundays.

If it's just this,
I can make an exception.

"We are...

a sign with no meaning...

Without pain we are...

and we have...

almost...

Lost our language
in foreign lands."

Hölderlin.

Punctual...

but 5 days late.

Gentlemen, we're going to start.

Are you ready, M. Cortés?

Silence! It's rolling.

"Ballad for Another Film."
First take.

OK, we'll listen.

Perfect! Very good!

- Should we do another?
- No, that's very good.

Are you sure?

What is it?

In return, he's visited by such dreams.

He would no longer live,
but would have been gassed in 1944.

He would then live as if in a dream.

Emanation of the mad desire
of a murder victim from 20 years ago.

It is not rare for
thoughtful men and artists

to note a feeling of being
unable to be fully present.

To not participate.

As if they weren't fully themselves
but a kind of viewer.

That's it.

Enough translating for today.
Period.

What's going on?

- Did you forget how to open a bottle?
- That's serious.

Hello?

Good evening Franck.
What a nice surprise!

Yes, he's here.
Hold on, I'll get him.

Sorry, I told him I was here.
Poor guy worries so much.

Hey Frank.

That's nice of you.

Yeah, he's a sinister idiot,
don't worry.

You know well it's got
nothing to do with music.

That's correct.
Except when I play pieces likes this...

I have a problem with my right hand.

No, don't be afraid.
It's a joke!

Really?
An older, big man?

No, a young person...

Here? You've done well.
Thanks Franck. See you tomorrow.

What's wrong with your hand?

I didn't want to tell Frank.
He worries too much.

But it's coming along on its own.

It's not the first time.

First it stops moving,
then it becomes rigid,

then it swells, all blue.

Stop Fabián, it's nothing!

Swollen! All blue!

Almost purple.

It's horrible.

Leave it. It's for me.

A young guy came looking
for me at the studio.

He said he needed to see me.
Urgently, it seems.

Franck gave him this address.

We'll see.

- It's from him.
- From who?

- It's old.
- Arolas?

A friend of Arolas?
Let him in then!

Yes, let him in.

The old guy's looking
for me to talk. I must leave.

What?

We aren't having dinner?
- Yes, I know, sorry.

OK, I'm going.

Hello?

Who is this?

Answer me, son of a bitch!

It's you still, asshole.

Answer!

- And a bottle of Côtes-du-Rhône.
- Yes, sir.

Taste this.
Let me know how it is.

And me who's going to record later...

It's rare brandy from Cacak,
extraordinary.

It's straight from Yugoslavia.

Excellent.

My turn.

I've decided, I think.

You're mad. You'll find ruins.

Maybe but I want to touch them.

I need to see.

It's a dangerous madness.

Dangerous?

You'll land on Saturn.*

No. Everything here
is crumbling, ending.

Music comes to me from there.

But that music comes from inside.

From memory, memory!

I want to go.
Do I have your blessing?

I, like Pontius Pilate...

But with eau de vie.

"Comme il faut." Take 3.

The other one can't...

The other one...

He can't.

Nobody.

And all this.

What a state you're in!

Come on.

Lay down.
There you go.

Want me to put on some music?

My God...I'm drunk...

Don't worry about it.

Sorry for coming in this state.

Don't worry.

I'll make you a coffee.

Is it going as you wish?

Wait, wait!

We need to make goal posts.

Goals are made
parallel to the embankment.

But far from the path...

and marked by two cans.

And always in the afternoon.

What are you saying?

Goal posts are made with branches
just next to the reeds.

The terrain along the river
with boats and sails.

They send it back to us when
it goes in the water.

But it's true.
Always afternoons.

- Where are you going?
- Make the other goal.

Peasant!
You do this with Indians!

At the capital, a mano a mano is played
with a single goal...

OK, as you like.

Drop the ball!

Goal! Goal! Goal!

It's mine, mine!

My ass! It's mine.

Get out of here, you loser.
It's mine! Goal!

Really? You want a smack?
I'll rearrange your face!

Fabian, don't go to Aquilea.

Not now.

Yes, yes.

Go! Strike!

No, no, wait...

Pay attention to the 2nd theme, OK?

and the off-beat:
1, 2, 1, 2, 5, 5, 5.

Let's start over.

You didn't hear?
Not interested? You have to be!

I'm doing my best...

OK, OK. Courage.

Once again. Da capo.

Something wrong, Osvaldo?

I didn't see...the prelude.

What? It's noted.
After 12, you need to...

Here, you see?

After the B-flat.
One, two, pause. You attack.

Of course. It's easy.
I was distracted.

OK, it's unimportant.

Take it from the 11th.

A measure for nothing.

That's it Osvaldo! Great. Yes!

It's not okay! I'm the one
who's not okay. Shit!

Who's there?

Marta, but...

It's a massacre...

I'm happy to see you.
Seriously.

My sister Marta. Good Lord!

Come in.

Militants are tortured,

they're being liquidated....

The leaders have left the country.

From which group?

They weren't all shooting
from the same side, right?

You haven't changed.

You've gone grey.

Yeah?

Maybe a little.

What were you doing in the Middle East?

That was 15 days ago.
We're coming from Stockholm.

Who, "we"?

With El Tano, my boyfriend.

You'll meet him.
He's at a meeting.

- A meeting?
- A political meeting.

In the disaster, there were
divisions, reproaches,

errors hard to accept.

We're forming another group:
we're recruiting everywhere,

We're taking care of details.
We're going back soon.

To make a war, to throw bombs?

We need to defend ourselves.

Now. But when you've begun?

We've attacked to defend ourselves.

Ourselves and those who couldn't.

The people elected this guy!
You're bombing them!

To see the dirty mugs
behind the democratic smiles.

But this all happened
already ten years ago.

It was a disaster.
Why would you want to repeat that?

Ten years ago I was in
middle school studying piano.

You left. I don't know
what happened ten years ago.

- You're insane!
- I don't want to discuss it!

It's okay...

We need to go back organized,
to be there and continue fighting.

Of course! What courage!

Do you need to joke?

No, I'm serious.

I'm listed under a fake name.
They don't know who I am.

I'm going to live normally
and give piano lessons.

Are you coming with me?

Me?

Yes, with your celebrity...

Go on! You help me and
you benefit from taking a look.

We have security problems.

We can't all live
together just anywhere.

Laura is a friend! Trustworthy!

Would she agree
to meetings at her place?

If I ask her, yes.

Do you still have it?

Yes, why?

I have an identical one.

You left it for me
before leaving.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

Nothing's wrong.

This is Fabián's sister!

You look identical!

Identical? I'm handsome!

Does it bother you?
Just for a few days...

No! Do you want to shower?

I'll show you.

I thought your sister
was invented. Are you happy?

She belongs to a group.

Ah, an organization...

Can they meet at your place?
Once or twice.

Of course.

They're preparing to go back.

Now?
They want to re-start everything?

She wants me to come.
What do you think?

Is your sister a gift from heaven?

Can you imagine
the paparazzi at the airport?

The triumphant return!

Ciao, take care of her.
I'm playing in an hour.

My sister arrived yesterday.

She's thinking of
going back in a few days.

I'm going with her.

He had no one left, you know?

No parents, no brother, no sister.

They killed his wife.

It seems she was tortured,
she was pregnant. *

Exile then.

It's true. He was very solitary.

Sometimes he'd come eat.
He sat over there.

He'd stay for hours.

His eyes lost.

Like a blindman.

He was in pain, the poor guy.

Here they are.

Hi.

He hung himself yesterday morning.

They found him at night.

A neighbor.

Two days ago at the Estrapade
he seemed so well.

He was never doing well.

On Saturday before the Estrapade,
he came to see me.

He came to see me
to talk about his wife.

With whom else was he going
to talk about his wife?

Sorry, Fabián.
I know it's not the time but...

What's going to happen with the group?

I'll deal with it.
In any case, it's the last week.

I guess I need to say
something given the circumstances.

To those preceding us in the darkness.

Did Fabián tell you he's going back?

Given that it's his favorite dream?

Now it's serious...
in a few days.

I'm just going
to accompany my sister.

I'm going,
I'll look around come back.

In any case, they won't show you

the torture centers
and concentration camps.

I need to see if
some things haven't changed.

The truth Danielle: you must know
that we all want to return.

Fabián is going to verify for all of us.

He's like our delegate.

Besides, Fabián was never here.

I don't understand
how you could have refused.

Want to see the old man?

Arolas' old man?

Where does he live?

I don't know,
but I think he never sleeps.

He spends his nights in bars.
I always find him.

Shall we go?

That's him!

Sorry, it's a mistake.

You really want to see Arolas?

I know where to find him.
I'm informed.

Come with me.

You're crazy. I'm leaving.

What is it?
Are you afraid?

Come with me.

There's Arolas.

What are you talking about?
These are lies. It's a legend.

Lorenzo Arola,
or Eduardo Arolas.

Died 29 September 1924
at Bichat hospital

from pulmonary tuberculosis.

Not from a fight.
From tuberculosis.

That's completely false!

I see Arolas everyday,
whenever I want to.

He was fragile
even if he didn't seem it.

He suffered from pleurisy.

He was OK, but drank too much.

He had a Amilcar car.
- Lies! You read that on a record sleeve.

Arolas is alive.
I'm leaving.

It was going well for him!
He died from tuberculosis!

I saw the file at the hospital.
He left behind some money and jewelry.

He's alive! I saw and spoke to him.
He spoke to me.

- I wanted to show you him.
- But I'm showing you. He's there!

He died in 1924,
he had a nice funeral!

50 people were there,
a hearse with horses.

I'm going.

Fabián, he's here!
He had a nice funeral!

In 1954 they said they brought
his ashes to your country.

But it wasn't true! It was lies!
Arolas is over there!

No! He's alive!

It goes without saying
this must remain between us.

Sure, commissioner.

These reports are official.

As I said, there is
no specific charge against him.

His name isn't in any dossier.
Neither ours or theirs.

We know he's here. That's it.

That's normal.

And I think that if he
left his country 13 years ago

and hasn't been involved in
any political demonstration

he runs no risk, at least officially.

All the records have been updated,

accounting for events of
the past 6 or 7 years.

That means...

Yes, go on please.
You said "at least officially."

That's it.

What I've just told you conforms
rigorously to official records,

but...if you'll allow me
to express my personal views...

Please, commissioner.

You know that even in a
democratic country like ours,

the authorities do not control

every mechanism of
surveillance and repression.

But...there are certain
countries where groups...

Call them as you'd like:
para-police, para-military...

Yes, I'm aware.

These groups are far more
radical than the governments

and the governments tolerate them
and pretend to ignore them because...

they are useful to them.
See what I mean?

These groups have their own criteria...

and even their own black lists.

You haven't told me your opinion.

I tried showing you that...

although there is no charge
against this man,

in present conditions,
I wouldn't dare give him any guarantee.

You understand, I'm sure.

Parfaitement, commissaire.

A thousand thanks.

Excuse me. I have to leave.

I skipped lunch.

Don't forget this must
remain between us.

- There you are.
- What?

Don't you see it's madness?
- Why?

He just said
I'm officially at no risk.

You're becoming an idiot.
Don't you understand anything?

He said "para-military groups."

Sure. And my plane could explode.

And I can get hit by a car
crossing the street.

Listen to me Danielle.
I need to go. That's all.

I need to go and I am going.

What's your little sister's game?

Trying to make me
look like an idiot?

Come on, we'll go see my sister.

They're meeting.

I think they're conspiring.

We don't care about their opinion!

We'll fail with these mistakes!

What are you saying?
Who wants to play here?

Tano, it's Fabián!

I know you through her...
and your albums.

You haven't had enough of them?

It's great that you've come!

She convinced you.

El Tano, Marta, my sister.
- Nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you, mam.

Speak Spanish.

That'd be better.

I have to go.
We'll talk later.

I'll come downstairs with you.
Are you coming, Laura?

No, I've seen enough of them.

So many meetings and so little time...

We want to clarify some
details tomorrow. At your place?

Okay.

What do you think?

You still don't think it's madness?

I'm Fabián Cortès, baby.
Nothing can happen to me.

It'll be okay.

It's going to be nice.

The other could have waited a little
before committing suicide.

He's playing for dead.

You are great.
It was very nice.

The album should be out in 2 months.
Here's the cover.

You'll have to promote it alone.
I'll be abroad for a while.

- Really? Going on tour?
- No, vacation.

We'll talk about it later.

- What? You're going on vacation?
- Yes, can't I?

- So much is unfinished.
- I'm leaving next week at the latest.

So, all these things stay in the air. *

Everything is unfinished.

- You found the key.
- Yes, of course.

Well done.

- Any phone calls?
- No.

- Any calls?
- She said no!

I'm leaving first with Felipe
for security reasons.

If it's good for you,
it'll be good for the others.

Don't touch this paper!

OK. It isn't so serious!

Fabián and Marta
travel 3 days later.

If they get
the green light from there.

Our comrades will protect our arrival.

Luna will receive
instructions 48 hours later.

If they pass, you'll pass too.

Marta is traveling
with her real passport.

And she's your sister...

Luna will bring your ticket.

No, I'm paying for my ticket.

The organization is paying.

Even if you're not part of it

and you'll never be part of it,

traveling with Marta is a task.

Marta, a militant,
will be protected by your presence.

Your works ends upon arrival.

Then you can do what you want.

And you'll us nothing.

Luna is preparing the departure
of the 3rd group. It leaves last.

That clear?
- Everything is clear.

If your arrival makes noise...

I can see the headlines:

"Famous in Europe,
the bandoneon player returns."

We'll meet Saturday for the tickets?

At 11:00. Bar des Arcades.

I have to go.
Leave the key here.

Arolas! Arolas!

We're not playing
at the Estrapade tonight.

It's for Osvaldo...

When will you play?

Tomorrow and Saturday,

then Monday for a farewell concert.

And next Wednesday...

I'm going back in time.

What? I'm accompanying
my sister, right? That's all.

Not for our generals...

Especially with your new pals...

A bandoneon player more or less...

But in this case,
it's about my bandoneon player.

Even if nothing happens,
there's still the nose.

What nose?

The one you'll break.

- Against what?
- The years of your youth, baby.

The past.

I have no past.

I'm not looking for my past.

Yes you are.
We're always looking for our past.

And you'll break your nose.
Like everyone.

The only way to escape
the past is to be dead.

And as it's a question
of you not dying...

- May we?
- You seem like pals.

Why not? Despite our differences...

We're just coming to accompany
the girls.

You don't want to stay?

We're preparing a feast.
- Accompany the girls?

You're playing body guards, war.

Very funny.

It's still a war.

You must avoid another defeat.

A defeat?

It's already a disaster!

One says defeat if
there could have been a victory.

But which?

Politics again?

Boring! I'm a bandoneon player.

I could pontificate here
and others could die.

No virtue in getting killed.

And you're giving them

a pretext to kill everyone.

The word "war": you're the one
who started using it!

They're still saying "war"!

And that word allows
them to kill.

Them! Now!

Let's go, Luna.

I'm best friends with
almost everyone here.

Continue.

There's nothing to continue.

Just to start the shootout!

If necessary...

In whose name
did you start shooting?

So that he reveals himself!

He had no time.
We overthrew him!

And the ones there?

They're still shooting!

The general shootout!

What else can be done?
Those ones kill...

Enough!
- ...by the thousand!

You are of course
fascinated by death.

You are too.
- What death are you talking about?

We don't think about death.

If a comrade dies,
he must be replaced.

Excuse me...

What's wrong with him?

His wife was killed and his son,

who were fighters like you.

I know.

Come, Luna.

It's true.
There are too many deaths.

I'm surprised he didn't tell you that...

you were here all this time
and didn't do anything.

It's easy to speak from afar.

Not that easy.

But you're right.

We did nothing.

That's our own nightmare.

We talk...

Of what should not have been done,
of what should be done now.

You think that doesn't
serve much of a purpose?

Victim of the tragedy of exile,
of solitude.

This great pianist
was also a great professional.

And despite his delicate discretion,
an excellent comrade at work.

And here is Fabián Cortés
and his Tango Sextet,

who will also be here tomorrow,
Saturday, and again on Monday.

Monday for a special farewell evening.

I'll remind you that
starting next week

we'll present exclusively here
a jazz group from Chicago!

Everything will be the same, but not.

Too serious for us, for him.

What he'll find there
could not be there.

Aren't you exaggerating a bit?

It was a dictatorship.
Atrocious, I mean.

But one day it'll fall.
It'll step down.

Things will go back to how they were.
A normal country.

Aquilea has never been normal.

Of course.

How did I not think of that myself?

You're monsters of pride.
Don't you think?

Probably.

We were already exiled,
now we are more so.

But if the day you're talking of comes,

People going to have coffee,

won't be able
to stir in sugar as before,

or drink it the same way.

The gestures won't be the same.

Something terrible
will have taken place and forever.

The terrible thing will have
taken place forever.

You look very biblical.

They liquidated or threw out
the inventors of Aquilea.

Those who thought up Aquilea.
Even if Aquileans don't know about them.

In 2 or 3 years
when they bring back order,

they'll try to make them come back,
but they won't find them.

They'll no longer be around.

They'll be dead or broken

Or different from what they were.

The thread is broken
and the dead have no children.

Something awful happened...
forever.

- A squeezed lemon.
- Orange juice?

A lemonade.

- Hi George.
- We can't figure out what he wants.

- What do you want?
- Lemonade. - He wants lemonade.

Well, he just had to say it!

I don't speak French.

I go everywhere.
I don't speak any language.

- And?
- I make gestures, like "Penado Catorce"

What did he say?

A "Penado Catorce"
is a tango character.

It's as if one said...

It's untranslatable.

El Tano and Felipe are going tomorrow.

Your plane leaves in 4 days.

Here's your ticket.

- 4 days.
- Yes.

Destroy the ticket
if there's the slightest problem.

Okay?
- Okay.

Your passport?
Be careful, it takes 48 hours.

Not for me.

- Sure?
- Sure.

Beards are forbidden in Aquilea.

You need to shave.

They'll ask you for photos

without a beard,
3/4 right profile.

With small numbers below...

Good, that's all.

Your name must be Luna
like mine is Fabián Cortés.

You don't know how my old man

could listen to your albums...

Really?

My old man said:
that guy's doing something new!

There were two major bandoneon players:

Troïlo et Piazzolo.
And now him.

There was one before them all.

Arolas. He was the first.

For me, you're the biggest.

My old man will go crazy
when he knows

that you're returning!

Take care.
It stinks in every direction.

I know.

I'm gonna walk to the warehouse.

I'll come with you.

No, don't bother.
We'll see each other later.

Who's there?

It's me, Fabián.

I just got here.

Ah, it's you.

Do me a favor.

I won't play tonight.

Tell them. Take care of it.

Tomorrow is Sunday?

Tomorrow I'm going to take a walk.
Tell no one.

On Monday, I'll refocus.

Paris of my exile...
I say farewell.

My city of Paris,

they're waiting for me to sound
the farewell, Aquilea.

But I owe you, exile,
I want a farewell in French, my city.

First house of my exile

on the Rue de Grenelle
next to the Champs de Mars

Old house,
headed for the hammer,

Which emptied out bit by bit
and let me at its heights

under the wind going mad
on the floors and the clacking doors.

Only captain of a deserted
boat that drifts

and that I only left at
the announcement.

First house of my exile,

above the small lake
of the chestnut tower of the room.

First house that is no more,

no longer navigating toward the Champs
on December snows.

House, dead for 7 years,

that I revived
as a tent on the pavement.

First house of my exile

reincarnated as a tent
that I leave again.

I say farewell.

First house, tent, farewell.

Streets of exile,
I say "farewell."

Farewell to the sidewalks
I wanted to confuse with others.

To the princely columns
unlike my Recova.

Farewell to the squares
with plaques for the dead,

to that for the mirror,
the gray lion,

the arches, the plain of lanterns.

Farewell large courtyard.

Farewell man on horseback
against the round houses.

Farewell poor nights
of the Southern Cross.

Farewell naked ladies looking
at the grass and not the palace.

Farewell paved courtyards
in the neighboring windows.

Farewell cut stone, slate, beam.

Farewell bridges.

Farewell bridges on the Seine
reminding me how beautiful Paris is.

Paris of my exile.

Farewell Paris, farewell.

I do away with you.

I thank you for my exile

and for welcoming my music.

and welcoming and loved me. *
And loved you

and for the woman I love.

Farewell Paris,
farewell Danielle.

Farewell bridges.

River of my exile, come with me,
throw us in the great river.

Navigate with me.
Cross the sea with me.

Enter the Rio de la Planta with me.

Stay within me in its riverbed.

Its banks can be yours,
Its colors yours.

Come river.

At least you come with me.

Oh come.
So I mustn't say farewell to you.

Where will this whole
mess go after the end?

My music,

my genius,

my skills,

the love of women who loved me.

I know it's you.

I know you won't answer me,
asshole.

I know you aren't going to answer.

But this time I've got you!

I'm going, asshole!

You won't call me again.

I'm going!

Did you who was looking for you?

Arola! No I didn't see him.
Where is he?

It's strange.
It's a guy with a leather vest

who asked me
where your apartment is.

He just left.

I'm going to try to catch him.

Look.

When does the new one come out?

In 2 or 3 months. What do I know?
Doesn't matter to me.

Anyway, I'll be gone.

How's Danielle?

- Can I ask 2 or 3 indiscreet questions?
- Okay.

Where were you when you disappeared?

I'll note the first question.
What's the second?

Well, what's this story about bridge?

Arolas told me.

If a bridge collapses,
it isn't so nice,

even if the person never
intends to go back.

Your turn. Third question.

Very well.
Tell me, who is old Arolas?

Is he alive? Dead?
Did he exist or are you joking?

Old Arolas said the world's
mysteries are infinite.

One finds answers 1 or 2
questions, but nothing changes.

- Satisfied?
- Absolutely.

- What is it?
- Nothing.

Two Sancerres?

Two Sancerres.

For a long time, I've felt
like I'm losing something.

If I return it's to know that it isn't
just something I'm forgetting there

and that's waiting for me,
intact in its place.

To all you know, me too.

You disappeared again.

I was in different streets,
at the bistrot,

at home, at Dominique's,

at the bar with her,
at a restaurant...

How's it going, Tommy?
- It's okay.

Are you closing, after?
- Yes. Go ahead. See you tonight.

You forgot to tell me
you went to the cemetery yesterday.

I called the morgue today.
To ask when he needed to be buried.

It was my business.

This warehouse and us playing...

It was like a dream.
Sometimes hard to remember.

We have to see if now...
I mean later, upon returning...

Yes, of course.

I have a fear, Fabian.

- Of solitude?
- Not solitude.

For me, everything is clear now.

The world is real again.

There is a straight path,
I don't know where it leads.

And it's the only one.

I know.

I know it.

Yes, I know that you know.

El Tano and Felipe left.

They should arrive this morning.

And your passport?

I'm going tomorrow.

Shall we go in?

I'm going to wait a bit to focus.

And with this?

Take it and play them a tango.

Final Night

Maipo by Eduardo Arolas.

He plays well.

He's never played better.

Because he's in exile.

He is still in exile.

Exile is a high condition,

hard work that serves no one.

Asceticism,

hopeless nostalgia.

Hopeless, lucid rage.

A high condition.

A way of living.

A way of playing bandoneon.

No longer for him.

No.

No longer for him.

He can longer stay far away.

He has to return.

I'm renewing my passport.

Then I'm going home to prepare.

I'll call you.

There were two traitors.

Everything has failed.

They let El Tano and Felipe in.

They were killed.

Don't move.
We must be under surveillance.

You have to let Marta know.

I need to return
by my own means. Alone.

Start again from zero.
Another way.

Another way. Back to zero.

Yes, Fabián?

Yes, it's me.
What's happening?

What's happened to you?

Speak Fabián!
What?

Yes, go ahead. We'll meet over there.
Pay attention. I'm coming.

What do you want?

What's happening?