Original subtitles

THE SON OF JOSEPH

The Sacrifice of Abraham

We've got you. Now we're going to make you die.

Slowly.

It's biting the rod.

You'll break your teeth.

Try to poke one of its eyes out.

I can't. He's too clever.

Where's Vincent?

He must've taken off.

I guess he couldn't take it.

He's weird.

FATHER & SON

HARDWARE SHOP

Vincent!

- Hello, Dean. - Hello.

- I left you messages. - Yes.

- You didn't answer me. - No.

- It doesn't matter. - I know.

I need to talk to you.

What about?

I've got a proposition for you.

What is it?

Let's go to the café.

I have no money.

That's all right. I do.

I don't want to go to the café. I don't like those people.

We need a quiet place. What I have to say is confidential.

- Let's go to the Palais-Royal. - That's far.

Five minutes. The exercise will do you good.

So? What did you want to talk to me about?

I've started a business. I'd like you to be my partner.

What's your business?

I sell sperm on the Internet.

I have a lot of customers. Even some men. I don't know what they do with it.

Who's your supplier?

I am. But my supplies are limited.

You could help me out.

Are you serious?

I sure am. It's a modern business, traditional and ecological.

I'm not interested.

You always say you have no money. It's a lucrative business.

I'm not interested.

Bye.

That guy has no head for business.

Vincent?

Come in.

Good evening, Vincent.

Good evening, Mom.

Were you sleeping?

No.

May I turn the light on? Night is falling.

Yes.

Did you have a good day?

Average.

And you?

Mine was more or less average too.

In other words, tiring.

You chose your profession.

I don't regret it.

As a nurse, I help people who are suffering.

I try to give them strength.

But it can be exhausting.

I could never be a nurse.

You'll help people in other ways.

I don't want to help people.

When we love people, we want to help them.

I love no one.

I think you do.

I'm telling you I don't.

No one loves me and I love no one.

There are people who love you, Vincent.

I have a question to ask you.

Yes?

Who is my father?

You already know the answer.

You've never given it to me.

It will always be the same.

Until you give me another one, I'll keep asking as long as it takes.

Today I'll answer as I always do.

You have no father.

I'm going to prepare dinner.

I'm going to study now.

Wait.

I bought a Basque cake. It's your favorite dessert.

I'm going to study.

Vincent?

May I come in?

Yes.

I've finished washing the dishes. I'm going for a walk.

I think it's still quite mild out.

Would you like to come with me?

Can't you see I'm studying?

I'll be going then.

Study hard.

Hello, Madeleine.

Who are you, madam?

I'm the nurse.

The nurse?

We're taking care of you. You're going to be fine.

Where are we?

At the hospital.

There was an accident.

I was with Dad, in the car.

Yes.

And then there was the accident.

Where is Dad?

Your mom is coming.

She'll explain everything to you.

Where is Dad?

I want him to explain it to me.

MR. OSCAR PORMENOR APOA PUBLISHING

RETURN TO SENDER

Oscar,

You asked me not to contact you.

I've respected your wish

and will continue to do so.

I've taken the liberty of writing to you

because I have something important to tell you.

Not about me, about someone else.

Two days ago, my child was born.

It's a boy.

I'm going to name him Vincent.

This child...

is ours.

I love him.

And I'm sure that if you saw him, you'd love him too.

I'm going to raise him alone.

I'm not seeking any help from you.

All I'm asking of you...

is that you acknowledge this boy as your son

so he will have, at least in name,

a father.

Who is Oscar Pormenor?

Where did you find that name?

I'd been with him for two years when I fell pregnant.

He told me to abort or he'd leave me.

I wanted you to exist.

I've tried to spare you unnecessary pain.

You owe me no gratitude,

but I don't deserve to have you searching through my things.

The Golden Calf

The Conlong Award goes to Mathieu Orfraie,

author of The Predatory Mother, published by Apoa.

- Good day, sir. - Good evening.

Surely you have an invitation.

I lost it.

I'm sorry, sir, but without -

I was invited by Oscar Pormenor.

Please, sir, go right in.

Thank you.

Good evening, young man.

Good evening, madam.

How can it be that you have no drink?

That simply won't do.

A glass of champagne for the gentleman.

Thank you.

I'm Violette Tréfouille.

I scribble reviews in The Literary Elevator.

You read it, no doubt?

No, madam.

Of all the people here tonight, you're surely the only one who doesn't.

I always admire unique individuals.

Who are you?

Vincent.

I know I've seen you before,

but I run into so many people, you know...

Vincent who?

Vincent... du Marais.

Of course!

Vincent Dumarais.

Oscar Pormenor told me about you.

He's going to publish your first novel.

I hear it's brilliant.

I'm honored to have published this masterpiece, The Predatory Mother,

which has just won the prestigious Conlong Award

and whose brilliant author, Mathieu Orfraie, is here beside me.

I am so proud when I discover unique, talented authors

who shatter taboos and break new ground.

Long live The Predatory Mother!

Violette?

I must introduce you.

This is Vincent Dumarais, a brilliant author.

Oscar is publishing his first novel.

Charlotte Sentombot,

the greatest authoress in all of Luxembourg.

French grammar forces you to categorize me as a female author,

but not does require you to confine me, darling, to Luxembourg.

That's true.

Charlotte is the greatest authoress in the French language.

The second greatest.

I concede first place to Marguerite Duras.

I was only referring to the living.

I've just come from a Church of Sade meeting.

We've concocted a terrific project.

On May 24, Saint Donatien's Day,

we're organizing a grand procession around Notre-Dame.

How deliciously subversive.

All art is subversive, darling.

I'm going to congratulate Mathieu.

Vincent?

I assure you.

I heard it from Scarlett Francomane, Violette's best friend.

I heard it from the man himself.

Don't believe a word Scarlett says.

Philomène!

Bernadette.

This is Philibert Duchêne,

a tremendous writer.

Bernadette is Oscar Pormenor's personal secretary.

Delighted.

- We were on the verge of a quarrel. - How dreadful!

Philomène claims Mathieu Orfraie is Violette Tréfouille's lover.

I have it on good authority.

I have it on better authority...

that he is Aristarque Chrimatopoulos's catamite.

He is Violette's lover.

You see?

He is also that gentleman's catamite.

We hadn't considered that possibility!

The secret to success is versatility.

We were both right.

Cheers!

- I'm out of champagne. - So am I.

Let's replenish.

And I'll get back to my duties.

Oscar is a very demanding boss.

And Bernadette is a very personal secretary.

Oscar!

My dear Violette.

Your review of Mathieu's book was prophetic.

We share a flair for discovering brilliant authors.

And the next one will be Vincent Dumarais.

I just spoke to him.

Vincent... who?

Vincent Dumarais.

You're publishing him this fall.

Of course. He's the next Céline.

And so young.

Youth and audacity are my trademarks. And I'm never wrong.

Good day, sir.

Good day, madam.

I'd like to see Mr. Oscar Pormenor, please.

Mr. Pormenor cannot be seen without an appointment.

In any event, he's rarely here.

His personal office is a suite at the Hotel Clovis.

Thank you.

Sir?

May I have your name, please?

Vincent Dumarais.

I'm a writer.

Thank you, sir.

I'll tell him you want to see him.

Thank you, good-bye.

Good morning, sir.

Good morning.

I have an appointment with Mr. Oscar Pormenor.

He doesn't usually arrive this early.

But if you have an appointment, it's Suite 211.

Thank you, sir. I'm early.

Why have you come early?

So as not to be late.

If you're on time for your appointments, young man, you'll never succeed in life.

The elevator is over there.

Thank you.

LOCKSMITH

Tell me if there are any important messages.

I'll have a listen.

I see that the only person who has telephoned

is your brother.

He can go to hell.

That's exactly what he did, years ago.

There's no need to listen to his message.

That Saint-Julien was exquisite.

Perhaps you should have had less. We're working this afternoon.

The more I drink at lunch, the better I work afterwards.

Come, Bernadette.

I'm coming.

Would you like to work on the autumn releases?

First I'd like a game.

Would you like me to close the door?

There's no need.

Oscar!

Bernadette.

Shit! I had no appointments.

No.

We won't answer.

You waved to the concierge when we arrived.

He must have said you were in.

Go see who it is.

It's your wife.

Here, at the door?

Yes.

She's a damned nuisance.

She insists upon seeing you.

Show her in.

Mrs. Pormenor.

Sit down.

I don't feel like it.

To what do I owe this honor?

I was wondering what had become of you.

Is it so unusual for me to be working in my office during the day?

I'm unable to find it normal...

even though it's not unusual,

for you to be out all night long.

You know the ups and downs of my profession make that inevitable.

I wonder what those ups and downs might be.

Dreadfully dull things I would not want to burden you with.

You didn't even phone to reassure me.

I sent you a text.

This morning.

Last night I was too busy.

No doubt.

Now that you've verified I'm alive, you can leave me to my work.

Laurent has been ill.

Who's that?

Your son.

Have I a son?

You have two.

And a daughter.

If you don't even remember they exist...

I have no taste for details.

What's wrong with the poor child? A cold?

No.

He had a fit of anger

followed by a fever.

It's his nerves.

He's hysterical.

Like his mother.

I'll leave you to your important activities.

But we can't go on like this.

That cleaning woman always leaves her things around.

Bernadette, please show Mrs. Pormenor out.

Thank you for your visit.

You should do something to keep from getting pregnant.

The world is overpopulated.

Don't bother, I know the way.

Let's resume the game.

You have to leave now.

You have a meeting

in half an hour with Mathieu Orfraie and the press at the Lutetia.

Tomorrow then.

Tomorrow you're on your own here.

I'm spending the whole day at the head office.

Work is the enemy of pleasure.

Come with me to the Lutetia then.

I am always at my boss's disposal.

Don't forget your undies.

I feel better without.

Good evening, Vincent.

Good evening, Mom.

I was a little worried to find you gone when I got home.

There was nothing to worry about. I had some business to do.

How was school today?

I didn't go today.

I won't be going tomorrow either.

Why not?

I've got important things to do.

Don't ask me what.

But you're going back the day after tomorrow...

Yes.

Could you write me an absence note?

If it's only for two days, yes.

Thank you.

Don't worry, Mom.

The Sacrifice of Isaac

I forgot, she's not here today.

Yes?

It's me.

Me who?

Joseph, your brother.

You don't have an appointment.

That's why I came early.

So as not to bother you.

You're very considerate.

I'll let you in.

- May I come in? - Yes.

You can sit down.

Good morning.

Good morning.

I'd never seen your office before.

Not bad, is it?

Do you work alone here?

Of course not.

I have a beautiful secretary who is very versatile.

But today she's on loan to the Central Bank.

What ill wind blew you here?

I have a project now.

There's a farm for sale back home in Normandy.

I'd like to buy it.

You, a farmer?

I always have been, at heart.

Where we grew up is the only place I've ever been happy.

You always did get on well with the local peasants.

But what exactly do you want from me?

Could you lend me some money?

I knew it.

I've never asked you before.

I've always felt your accusing looks.

You're mistaken.

From his point of view, Dad was right to disinherit me.

He saw me as a good-for-nothing who dropped out of school

and consorted with unsavory sorts.

And who was also a drug addict.

That's an exaggeration.

I smoked an occasional joint.

Dad saw it through the lens of his generation.

Rather of his social background.

In any case, I can't help you. I'm not the one who made your mistakes.

Granted.

But I spared you and Dad shame by taking Mom's name.

Now that I'm trying to give my life meaning,

you could at least remember we're brothers.

I earn my living by the sweat of my brow.

And don't forget I have a wife and five children to feed.

You have three children.

Details bore me.

Your answer is no?

That is correct.

I am a man of principle.

I hope you reap the fruits of your virtue.

Good-bye.

Pardon me for bothering you.

- Good morning, sir. - Good morning.

Sir?

A cup of coffee, please.

Would you like orange juice with that?

Yes.

Today I'm living it up.

Perhaps you would also like a croissant?

Why not.

I have much to celebrate.

Have you got a newspaper?

We have The Globe and The Cherubin.

I'll take The Globe.

The problem with The Globe, as opposed to The Cherubin,

is that it contains yesterday's news.

That's all right.

I don't know it yet.

Good morning, sir.

Good morning, sir.

Can I give you a message

to convey to Mr. Oscar Pormenor

in Suite 211?

Conveying messages to hotel residents

is one of my duties.

Tell him, then,

that his wife and his children, his three children,

are waiting for him in the hotel bar.

- Duly noted. - Thank you.

Hello?

This is the concierge. May I speak to Mr. Pormenor?

Don't you recognize my voice?

It may not be as recognizable as you think.

And you aren't the one who usually answers.

What are you calling about?

I have a message to give you.

Your wife and your children await you in the bar.

What?

Your wife and your children,

to be exact, your three children,

await you in the bar.

What the fuck are they doing there?

I have no further information, sir.

I'm coming down.

Satan, ruler of the world, protect me from ball-breakers.

Idiot.

This is his idea of a joke.

Oscar?

Speaking.

Jacques Tronçon here.

- How are you? - Very well.

Listen, I can't speak freely over the phone,

but you've got a good chance at the Rinaldo Award

for the Camille Sanglot book this fall.

Can we meet somewhere?

- Today at 5:00 p.m., Café de Flore. - Perfect.

See you then.

What is this?

Who are you?

Help!

Have you done something wrong?

You mustn't run like that. You'll attract attention.

Come.

- Where are you going? - I don't know.

Let's make a move. You mustn't stay in the neighborhood.

- What's your name? - Vincent.

I'm Joseph.

Today I'm living it up. Let's take a cab.

Do you live with your parents?

With my mother.

- Do you get on well with her? - Yes.

That's good.

And with your father?

I have no father.

I had one.

I'm not sure it's an advantage.

Do you have a wife and children?

No.

What is your profession?

I haven't got one.

But I've done a number of things.

Is having a profession...

really necessary?

I believe it is.

Now I'd like to raise cows.

In Paris?

It's easier to raise cows in the countryside.

In Paris, they become hysterical. Like the people.

Why cows?

They are peaceable creatures.

Thank you.

I don't want to know what you did in the hotel.

But I hope there won't be consequences.

Here's my number.

Don't hesitate to call me.

Thank you.

See you soon, perhaps.

The Carpenter

PUBLISHER OSCAR PORMENOR SEQUESTERED

VINCENT DUMARAIS SUSPECTED OF SEEKING REVENGE

The literary world is a shark pool.

The head of Apoa Publishing was found bound and gagged

at his office, by his secretary.

Pormenor suspects writer Vincent Dumarais,

who attended a recent reception for Conlong Award winner Mathieu Orfraie.

Dumarais allegedly threatened Pormenor with a knife.

Why? Pormenor gave no indication.

Hello, Joseph?

Good evening.

This is Vincent. Remember me?

We met yesterday.

Of course I remember you.

How are you doing?

So-so?

Of course we can see each other.

Not tomorrow morning, you have school.

How about Saturday, after class?

Meet me at 12:30, in the Luxembourg Gardens.

At the Medici Fountain.

The first to arrive can admire the ducks.

See you Saturday.

Good-bye, Vincent.

Joseph?

Do you believe in God?

In my own way, yes.

It's a vice I've often been criticized for.

Do you know the story of the sacrifice of Abraham?

Yes.

Do you think Abraham was right to want to sacrifice his son?

No.

Even if God asked him to?

God didn't ask him to.

The voice he heard was his own.

The voice of Abraham?

Yes.

The voice of his pride.

And the angel who prevented him from doing it?

That was the voice of God.

May I use the informal pronoun?

Yes.

You are a good man.

What makes you say that?

I sensed it right away.

What can one do to be good?

You must listen to the voice of God.

But where is he?

He is in us.

He tells us to love.

A 19th-century French bourgeois depiction of the ideal family.

You didn't kill anyone?

No.

Then it can't be too serious.

Seeing that lion about to eat makes me hungry.

Let's have lunch.

Do you like soccer?

Yes. Very much.

What do you call a soccer player?

What?

A sucker.

Do you like the people known as hipsters?

I hate them.

Me too.

Do you know what they call the sister of a hipster?

No, what?

A hip-ser.

You like images.

Yes. Very much.

Next Wednesday is a public holiday. Let's go to the Louvre.

Joseph is toiling as a carpenter.

Young Jesus is watching his father work.

Joseph is not the father of Jesus.

Yes, he is.

Through his son, he became a father.

Is that possible?

Yes.

What kind of tool is that?

A type of drill.

It's in the shape of a cross, to remind us how Jesus will die.

It's sad.

No.

Jesus dies because he hears the voice of God.

Joseph?

What do you call a revolutionary nudist?

What?

A sans-culotte!

Like this.

All right.

Good.

- A run-through, with the poem? - Yes.

Epitaph

on the death of Honorat de Buëil...

son of the author,

who died a page to the queen

in the year 1652...

aged 16 years or thereabouts.

This son...

whose friendly, youthful face

to my old years

a contented hue did bring.

This son, who in my weakness provided a steady embrace,

has seen fall, without fruit,

the flower of his spring.

After three months languishing under painful duress,

he was pulled verily,

too soon, into the ground

when, dressed in the colors of a great princess...

he was barely eight years, two times around.

All the world believed that with his burgeoning vigor,

the House of Buëil,

once so flourishing,

would, in its decline,

make one last effort to bloom.

His mind was quick,

his soul generous...

and never did he grieve his illustrious,

ill-fated house...

except by his death.

Is that you I see, Euryalus?

The serenity, so late in coming

Of my winter days

Is it thus you

O cruel one

Who is abandoning me?

Leaving without seeing your stricken mother

So she can say to you her final words?

Alas!

You lie on unknown ground to be preyed upon by dogs

And vultures

I did not lead your funeral procession

Nor did I tend to your body

Close your eyes and bathe your wounds

Nor cover you with the beautiful tunic

That, night and day

I zealously weaved

To calm my anxious old age

Hammering the threads on the loom

Where can I find you?

What soil holds the flesh of your mutilated torso

Lacerated and deprived of its members?

Is this the fruit you would give me

I, who followed you overland and on seas?

If you have any pity left

Aim your swords at me

O Rutuli!

Finish me off first, with your blades!

Or you

O Father and most powerful of all gods

Sling your lightning

And send hurtling to Tartar

My hideous head!

I know no other way to free myself

From this cruel life

Good evening, Vincent.

Good evening, Mom.

It's going to be mild tonight.

The light outside is still very beautiful.

I was able to leave the hospital earlier than usual.

I may go to the cinema tonight.

With whom will you go to the cinema?

I'll go on my own.

Isn't that sad for you?

No, I'm used to it.

Mom, may I invite a friend to dinner?

But of course.

I'm always telling you to invite your friends.

He's a very good person.

If he's your friend, I'm sure he's a good person.

Is Saturday night all right?

Yes. Perfect.

Hello.

- What are you doing here? - I'm shopping for my mother.

We have a dinner guest tonight.

You're looking well.

You're not.

What's the matter?

My business is exhausting me. I can't keep up with demand.

Not even when I take Viagra.

Why don't you take a vacation?

The competition would pinch all my customers.

I wish you strength then.

I forgot to ask you, with regard to the menu,

if there's anything your friend doesn't like.

No need to worry. He's very fresh.

- What do you mean? - He likes everything.

- He's very punctual. - Like me.

Punctual people never get anywhere in life.

Of course they do.

Go answer the door.

I haven't finished here yet. You answer the door.

- I don't know him. - You'll get acquainted.

Good evening, sir.

I believe you've got the wrong door.

Pardon me, I'm looking for...

You're not Vincent's mother?

I am.

It's you?

Yes.

Excuse me, I'm sorry.

I thought he'd invited a classmate.

Come in.

My name is Joseph.

I'm Marie.

I think this is the first time Vincent's had Armagnac.

It's a special occasion.

You don't have school tomorrow, so it's allowed.

I hope you don't have to work tomorrow.

No.

So that I could look after Vincent properly,

I was granted special hours.

I only work day shifts, always during the week.

Your work must nevertheless be quite grueling.

Sometimes.

There are also beautiful moments.

It seems to me the world is one big hospital...

with doctors and nurses looking after patients.

Which side of it are you on?

I go from one side to the other.

As we all do.

What you say is true.

Joseph?

What do you call a woman doctor?

A doctrine.

You get more and more fresh all the time.

I've had a wonderful evening. Thank you very much.

We'll be in touch, Vincent.

And perhaps I'll see you soon.

Mom loves the cinema.

But she doesn't go often, because I don't go with her.

I love the cinema too. But I don't like to go on my own.

Perhaps we could see a film together sometime.

Why not?

I'll send you a text with Mom's phone number.

Fine.

See you soon then.

I'd seen Red Desert before, many years ago.

When I first arrived in Paris.

This was the first time for me.

Films from that period always give us hope.

Even when the subject matter is dark.

I need hope in order to live.

Me too.

These days,

people seem to wallow in despair.

Or in cynicism.

They don't even realize they're in despair.

Have you known Vincent long?

No.

That's what I thought.

I don't know how you two met,

but lately,

Vincent has seemed much happier.

I'm glad.

I like that boy very much.

I feel an affinity with him.

He carries a lot of pain inside him.

I gathered as much.

Do you have a boyfriend?

No.

I wanted to be Vincent's mother.

The two are not mutually exclusive.

There was a time when I thought they were.

I really enjoyed going to the cinema with you tonight.

Me too.

Maybe we could do it again sometime.

Yes.

There are no ducks here.

No.

Nothing but mysterious microorganisms hidden in the murky water.

At my grandparents' in Touraine, where we go in the summer,

there's a mysterious pond.

When I was little, I believed it was bottomless.

- And now you no longer believe that? - No.

Have you ever seen the bottom?

No.

Then why wouldn't your childhood impression be true?

I must've listened to the grown-ups too much.

Do you still go to your grandparents' in Touraine?

Yes. In summertime.

I look forward to going. That's where I've been the happiest.

I understand.

I grew up in the countryside.

In Normandy.

That's why you want to raise cows.

Probably.

Vincent...

why did you introduce me to your mother?

She really enjoyed going to the cinema with you the other night.

So did I.

But why did you introduce us?

I was told to do it.

Who told you to do it?

An angel.

If it was an angel, then you were right to listen.

This weekend, I'd like to invite you and your mother to Normandy.

I'd like to show you where I'm from.

That would be super fresh. I'm sure Mom would love that.

I'll call her and talk to her about it.

Let's take a stroll over there.

The Flight into Egypt

I grew up in Touraine,

which is a lovely region, but landlocked.

Coastal regions are open.

You are an open person.

In any event, I felt enclosed in my region.

Would you believe I didn't see the sea until I was 17?

What about you, Vincent?

When did you discover the sea?

Mom would often tell me about it.

It was important to her that I see it.

How old was I when we went to Honfleur?

Twelve.

We couldn't get there any sooner.

In summertime, we always went to my parents'.

We went to Honfleur during the Christmas holidays.

Yes, it was in winter. It was beautiful.

I'd like to show you where I'm from now.

It's very beautiful in the spring.

Let's go.

These are the cows of my region.

I hope to overcome my difficulties and establish a harem of this breed.

They are very alluring.

Aren't you concerned some may get jealous?

Cows are more serene than we are. They don't get jealous.

Now I'd like to show you my house. No one will be home and I have the key.

What is this?

All these Parisian cars...

My imbecile brother must have invaded the place.

I have no desire to see him or his guests.

We'll park further away and come through the woods.

At least we can see the exterior.

There they are.

Wait behind that bush.

We'll go in through the side door they surely left open.

While they're outside, I'll show you the inside.

In any event, I have a right to enter my house.

Oscar!

You must be more discreet.

Why? I'm at home with my friends.

What if there are paparazzi?

They don't even know this backwater exists.

Hello, Bernadette.

I just spoke with Nathalie Sarraute.

She's dead.

When is her funeral?

You're enjoying the party, aren't you, Violette?

I certainly am.

Tell me, Oscar...

are we at the Closerie or the Flore?

We're in Writers' Heaven.

Come, Violette.

I'll introduce you to Marcel Proust.

I'll interview him.

But between you and me...

lately, he hasn't been what he used to be.

This was my room.

I was happy here...

and I cried.

That's me with my mom.

She died when I was seven.

I'll show you the room where I used to play with my brother.

We'd better be going.

A ghost?

At first, I thought it was my imagination.

But there is a ghost upstairs.

A ghost, no. Prowlers, possibly.

I knew it! It's the paparazzi.

Let's go see for ourselves.

Come, Violette! We've got to liquidate the paparazzi!

Where's Vincent?

I don't know.

I thought he was behind me.

Vincent Dumarais!

The little bastard! We'll get him this time.

Run!

The police are following us.

What have we done wrong?

You were at your own house.

I'm the one they're after.

You?

The helicopter can't be for us?

I think it is.

After this turn there's a pathway. I'll hide the car there.

It'll be easier to lose them on foot.

Did you hurt yourself?

No, but my feet are rebelling.

I'm not wearing the proper shoes for a fugitive.

We must get to the coast.

There are places where we can take refuge.

There's a man coming with an ass.

He's a good man.

How do you know?

I sense it.

Good day, sir.

Good day. You're out here for a stroll?

More or less.

The helicopter was for you.

Yes.

My father was in the Resistance. He told me many stories.

You're not the first to take refuge in these parts.

We're going to continue on our way.

Are we near the coast?

Continue down this path...

and you will come to a beach.

Could you loan us your ass, sir?

My mother is very tired.

If you promise to return him to me. He's my friend.

I promise, sir.

At any rate, he always comes home.

I'll leave him to you then.

Resist.

Hands up!

Dismount the ass.

Face the sea.

Search them.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

You!

Come with me.

Stay with them.

Is this him?

Yes, it's him. Vincent Dumarais.

Even if that's not his real name.

What were the others doing with him?

Go fetch them.

Who are you, madam, with regard to this young man?

His mother.

And you, sir?

His father.

I was wrong.

Pardon me?

It wasn't this boy.

What?

I said it wasn't this boy who attacked me.

I will not press charges against him.

Just a moment ago you were sure it was him.

All the young people of his generation look alike.

I know now that I made a mistake.

In that case, we can only apologize to these people.

I'm sorry.

Let's go get the ass.

Subtitles by Sionann O'Neill a.s.i.f.

Subtitling TITRA FILM Paris