All language subtitles for Camus.2010.FRENCH.1080p.WEBRip.x265-VXT2_English

Every film
has some fictional content

and no one can claim to reprodue
the exact complexity of a man'se

about which everyone holds
a personal opinion

That's mine, shithead.

Don't call me that!

Your father sells tripe,
doesn't he?

And you have a Boche name, Camu.

- What?
- Camus is a Boche name.

You're a Boche!

Stop it!

Stop it!
What's the matter with you?

No more of that!

You find this amusing?

How about your homework?

You, have you done
your maths problem?

- No.
- No what?

No, sir.

You'd better go home now!
All of you.

Not you. I want to talk to you.

Look at your shirt.

Your grandma and your mother
are going to love it...

Why did he say that?
Dad wasn't a Boche, he was Alsa.

First of all,
the Boches are Germans.

That kind of thing can start
a fight or a war.

I knew your father well.
He was my mate during the war.

He was a brave man.

He wouldn't want
his son to cry for him.

Adapted from Albert Camus: A Lie
by Olivier TODD

It all sounds very good...

but who's going to pay?

If he wins a grant,
he won't have to pay anything.

He'll be given breakfast
and lunch at the lycée.

And who's going to bring money e
if he doesn't work?

He's still little.

His brother worked.

- How long is it going to be?
- 6 years.

You heard that? 6 years!

Because he's bright.

That's no excuse!

What would he do after that?

He could become a schoolmaster,

if he wants to, like me.

He's bright.

What happened to your shirt?

- Another fight?
- It snagged.

Madam...

I'd really like to speak to you
in private.

Don't just stand there,
go get water at the fountain.

What's up, Albert?
Can't carry it anymore?

"Outside the day and the heat
were beginning to fade.

At that hour when the workshops
ran at full capacity,

the street livened up
and the sky turned green."

"At that hour when the workshops
ran at full capacity,

the neighbourhood
was empty and silent."

Dad, they're here!

They're here!

There.

Do you think he's told her?

If he has, it'll be tough.

If he hasn't, it'll be worse.

Come on down, Albert.
The Gallimards have arrived.

It took us two good hours.

Stop it! Come on, Floc.
Lie down!

We'll have to put him somewhere.

You have a new haircut!

Very observant.

He had the same haircut in Algea
when we met.

- Do you like it?
- It makes you look younger.

Francine, show Recto and Verso
around the house.

I'll take their luggage.

I see, he's calling us
Recto and Verso again.

Aren't those your names?

The dining room.

The furniture is beautiful!

Albert bought everything.

And where does he work?

He had a partition built
in the attic to make his study.

I need to see that.

Albert seems to have
emerged from the tunnel.

Doesn't he?

He's writing again,
that's what counts.

Have you seen the landscape?

I feel like I could reach out
and touch Algeria.

If I'm to publish you,
I expect some indulgence.

If you're to publish me?

You haven't decided yet?

Of course I have.

I've waited for your book
for 6 years to set up my compan.

I think my mother would feel
at home here.

I worry about her out there.

How is she?

Not very well.

Her rheumatism is making it
harder for her to walk.

Isn't it a bit isolated in wint?
For you, I mean.

It was worth it, believe me.

"The First Man" is a good title.

You could at least tell me
what it's about.

I'd rather have you read it.

But not now.
This is only the first draft.

Just a few words.

- Am I disturbing you?
- Not at all.

I tried to make him talk
about his novel. Impossible!

He keeps it like the crown jewe.

You have to do the shopping.

Have you told Francine yet?

I've tried many times.

- You haven't told her anything?
- No.

The more you wait,
the harder it'll be for her.

Mr Camus!

Could you sign your book for me?

You shouldn't have bought it,
Mrs Pierre.

I'd have given you one.

Thank you.

Have you told the Gallimards
about your publishing company?

There's no point doing that
until it's done.

My family is so united,
I'll be like a traitor.

So what?

That's often what they call
those who are true to themselve.

I'm used to that.

It's going to be a liberation yr

for you and for me.

- A theatre encyclopaedia!
- Do you like it?

Thank you very much.

What's that?

A telescope! I'm impressed!

A golden watch! What for?
Michel, Jeanine, you're mad!

You're spoiling them,
it's ridiculous.

Not at all. It's New Year's Eve.

You're ruining

all my efforts to teach them
about wealth and poverty.

It's important for me to teach m
the value of money!

What would my mother say?

- She'd be happy for them.
- No!

- She would.
- She'd feel an outsider to the.

Stop it, Dad.

You know what she sent them
for Christmas?

Sweets and oranges.

- I used to get the same thing.
- I have a suggestion.

If our gifts bother you,
let's throw them in the garbage.

I could hardly throw War and Pee
in the garbage.

And you'd wait long
till I threw my bracelet away.

Anyway, I'll still say you must
consider the display of wealth..

Indecent.

- And extravagant expenditures?
- Scandalous.

Well done.

You're so well brought up.

You can laugh.

Anyway,
when I think about my mother,

I feel I belong to a noble race.

A noble race?
What are you talking about?

The race of people
who covet nothing.

I really know nothing about it.

He doesn't trust me either.

What are you saying?

It's his first novel in six yea.

Six years! And he won't
let me read a single line!

It never used to be that way.

Come on!

Say something about it,
we won't tell anyone.

Well...

I think I'm getting
into a third creative cycle.

No, I can't speak about it now.

Go on! You've started!

First, there was
the cycle of the absurd

with The Outsider,
The Myth of Sisyphus...

Then the cycle of the revolt:
The Plague,

- The Rebel ...
- Stop it, it's embarrassing.

Go on, what's your third cycle?

- Dad.
- What?

- Can we try the telescope outs?
- Sure.

I'll go with them.

It's going to be about love.

What's so funny about that?

You're going to write about lov!

You've never been able to love.

Ten years earlier

- That's not the face of love.
- Who says so?

I do, Dora!

You are a woman and you have
a sad idea of love.

That's not the question.

It's whether or not we're going
to drop bombs

on those children!

"Children"... That's all you sa!

Even in destruction...

Even in destruction
there is an order, there are li.

There are no limits!

The fact is, you don't believe
in the revolution.

Stepan, underlying your words,

I see a sort of despotism
which, if it sets in,

will make a murderer of me,
although I try to defend justic.

We were less good than yesterda.

No, the public was.

- Stop sulking.
- You and your buffoonery!

I nearly cocked up.

You got four curtain calls.

You can be such an idiot someti.

No... It's no fun
if you do it all yourself.

This is my favourite part.

Why are you laughing?
You're doing it again?

This time, it's pleasure.

Shall I call your doctor?

I'm fine.

Water.

Why are you not in bed?

I was waiting for you.

Why?

You knew I had to make
some adjustments on the play.

I'm afraid...

Jean may have polio.

What makes you think so?

He was limping today.

Perhaps he just had a fall.

- You've moved that.
- Don't you like it there?

I do. It's nice there.

What did you do today?

I played the piano.

Didn't you go out?

No, but I think I've learnt
to play that passage

I got stuck on. Shall I show yo?

It's 4 in the morning, Francine.

You'll wake up the children.

So you didn't go out at all.

No.

Don't you get bored
staying in all day?

No.

Listen, Francine...

We have a problem.

Come sit down.

- Am I getting on your nerves h?
- No, but we need to talk.

How grave! Are you going to tele
you're leaving me?

What are you trying
to make me say?

Sorry.

I'm sorry, I'm tired.

And I think it's ridiculous

that you stay in all day,
you should be a musician.

What a waste to play so well
only for yourself.

- You want to get rid of me.
- Stop talking nonsense!

He has a good hand.

We had excellent feedback
from the provinces.

It's a page turner.

Have you read what they wrote?

That I'm the watchdog of capita.

An enemy of the working class.

You knew that if you denounced
the camps, they'd lash out at y!

L'Humanité wouldn't praise you
for spitting at the USSR.

They can say anything, but not !

You're selling well,
Rebel Man is a success!

That's all that matters to you!

- Sartre hasn't called yet?
- No.

I hope he'll do something about.

Why don't you call him?

It would seem I was being force.

He can see they want my head,
he'll react.

Les Temps Modernes has
some reservations about your bo.

Does it?

Are you surprised?

A little.

You could see it coming.

Doesn't it bother you to have
the Right praising you?

Let's get this straight, Sartre.

If I thought the truth was
on the right, I'd be there.

I also find the Soviet camps
unacceptable.

Then again so is the way
the bourgeois press is using th.

That's what parts us.

What a mistake!

What an enormous mistake!

We have to fight totalitarianis.

Every sort of totalitarianism!

History will prove you wrong,
but it'll be too late.

Stop playing doomsayers.

What do you want
by denouncing the Soviet camps?

To drive the working class
to despair?

You know my origins, Sartre,

how can you accuse me of that?

- What's the matter?
- Nothing.

What's wrong? Is my fly down?

Have I killed someone?

What are you hiding there?
Give me that, Jeanine.

Come on.

Are you okay, Mr Camus?

That stupid little teacher!

And you said he was a man...

I was wrong.

It's disgusting!
Who does he think he is?

He thinks he's Sartre.

It doesn't matter.

The truth is, he's jealous.
Of your style

and your success.
You are a great writer

and he knows that.

I've told you
that doesn't affect me.

Yes, it does.

You're right.
It does affect me.

The most revolting is this sent:

"You may have been poor,
but not any more.

You are a bourgeois, like me."

How dare he make fun of this?

He was born
with a silver spoon in his mout.

What a bastard!

I can't even punch him in the f.

No, that would turn against you.

That's not it.

He's too short.

He's too short...

Are you expecting someone?

Oh my God!

Mother-in-law, Christiane!
What a surprise!

Are you coming from Oran?

- Didn't Francine tell you?
- No.

I completely forgot about it.

I'm sorry,
I've been forgetting things lat.

Come in. If I'd known,
I'd have picked you up in Bourg.

Hi, Mum.

How are things back home,
Fernande?

Very bad, apparently.

No, everything's fine.

In France,
you're always pessimistic.

Fine? That's not what I read.

Don't you start, the two of you.

You went too far with the Arabs.

You humiliated them.

We humiliated the Arabs?

I had to come to Paris to hear !

Did you see how bad he is?

They've tried to destroy him.

Who has?

Sartre!

And his clique.

They hate him.
They've always hated him.

He doesn't look that bad
actually.

After all you've told us
about his state.

You look tired, though.

What do you do everyday?
Do you go out a bit?

I can't.

Why not?

He sets traps for me.

What?

He sets traps for me.
He's always putting me to the t.

He puts you to the test?

Yes, constantly.

But it's okay.

It's a game,
he wants to catch me out.

He's jealous.

He's jealous?

That's the best one!

Things may be calmer in Oran.

In Algiers,
there are incidents almost dail.

My brother told me that Taleb,

the grocer,

was stabbed last week
while he closed the metal shutt.

- In broad daylight.
- Taleb?

On Isly Street?

One of ours did that?

No, one of theirs.

There you go.

He must have refused
to give money to the FLN.

They impose that on everyone
to buy guns.

They even slit people's throats.
It's in their blood.

Stop saying that.

You know, it's a question of ri.

You don't want to admit it.

When I wrote
about the situation in Kabylia,

I was massively attacked
by our people.

By our people!

They've always hated us.

You don't want to see
what's happening.

Something must be done.
It's urgent, if not too late.

And I'm worried about Mum.

She doesn't want
to come to France.

Nothing can happen to her.

Not where she lives,
not in Belcourt.

They attack the rich.
Poverty creates bonds, you know?

How dare you judge people
that way?

Look what they did to him.

They're going to drive me mad!

Is that what you want as well?

Calm down.

Darling...

My little sister...

- I'm sorry.
- Darling...

Come here.

Darling...

Sartre gave him a good thrashin,
he'll never forget it.

It serves him right.

He's so annoying
with his dogmatism and good sou.

He refused
to join the peace movement.

He said it was a Russian worksh.

No wonder, he chose to work
for America and for the war.

For the CIA as well.

Are you mad?

Let go of me!

That man is bonkers!

A friendship of 15 years.

I never expected that.

"Don't drive
the working class to despair."

What a terrifying argument!

And they're the ones who justify
the Algerians extremists!

They seem
to be driving them to a civil w.

Francine, you have to eat somet.

I'm not hungry.

Mum, can we get down from the t?

We're done.

You can go play.

Always the idea
that the end justifies the mean.

No, I think morality must alwaye
above politics.

But morality for them
is old-fashioned.

You can talk about morality...

I'll be right back.

Here we go again.

Albert, you have to do somethin.

Nothing will change
till the Arabs have civil right.

We're talking about Francine!

She's not herself anymore,
she needs care.

I've talked to her doctor about.

He says she's going
through a depressive phase.

- Did he prescribe any treatmen?
- Of course, but...

she needs me and the kids.

You? You're never here.

Francine!

Come here.

Take my cigarette.

It's over now, darling.

It's a bout of neurasthenia.
Quite severe.

Don't worry. We have a whole bay
of treatment techniques.

Some electric shock sessions
can work miracles.

Electric shock?

There's been a lot of progress.
The patient is now anesthetised

and we administer curare
to relieve the pain.

It's out of the question.

That's not it,
they're only meaningless affair.

That's the way I am.
Francine knows it and understan.

I doubt it.
Your Don Juanism made her ill.

Depression is more complex
than that.

Listen, Albert,
I'll be frank with you.

You can go with any women
you want,

but not that witch
who charmed you.

What are you talking about?

About your affair with Casarès.

That woman is a witch.
A witch, I tell you!

Mum is right.

I never talk to her about Maria.

You know women so badly,
for all the time you spend with.

Francine knows
you're still seeing her.

She's in your skin,
in your clothes.

From morning till night.

You're right, it's better that .

It's your most beautiful story.

Really.

What's going to be the title?

I don't know. Just "Jonas".

Perhaps
"Jonas or the Artist at Work".

I like that.

I crossed out the bit
when you describe his mood.

When he won't go to places
where he's known.

"When he met someone who spoke
to him about his painting..."

You crossed out
"filled with revulsion."

It was too explicit.

"When he met someone who spoke
to him about his painting,

he was filled with panic."

Yeah, "panic" is better.

"He wanted to run away,
it was obvious. So he ran away."

You needn't mention his revulsi,
that would belittle him.

You're right.

That's exactly what I feel.

Thanks, darling.

She's recovering.

It's important for her to work
for you, she feels useful.

Thank you.

Simply to suffer,
to suffer as we breathe.

What has my husband
got to do with that?

He might want
to share your suffering.

If he's really your husband.

He would have
to share everything with me.

Do you have something
to say that he doesn't know?

- Yes.
- You should have told him, Tem.

You can't spend 8 years lying.

Good. It was very good this tim.

How did you feel about it?

- Much better, I'll keep that.
- Yes, very good.

Please, back to your positions.

We'll do this scene again.

- She's wonderful.
- Amazing!

It was a role for Casarès, but..

because of Francine,
I had to turn her down.

They have things in common.

Short, dark hair.

Same energy, same vibration.

That's right.

They both have
the Mediterranean nature.

Come here.

What's she like in everyday lif?

Oh come on...

I took her for her acting talen.

So you took her?

You idiot!

Come meet my friends.

Jeanine and Michel Gallimard.
I call them Recto and Verso.

They're always together.

They found you wonderful.

Thanks, that's very kind.

She's a magnificent actress.

And a marvellous woman.

The great thing is,
she's teaching me yoga.

Is she?

Yoga?

To help me stop smoking.

- What?
- Nothing.

Mr Camus.

So tell us,
is he a tyrannical director?

What's wrong?

What's her problem?

She broke her pelvis.
Luckily it was from the first f.

She's out of danger now.

Not now,
her mother and sister are there.

Get lost!

You must face the facts, Albert.

When Francine is discharged,
you can't go on living with her.

- Did she tell you that?
- No.

Enough is enough!

Find yourself another flat!

She'll be stuck here for a mont.

Then you'll be able to screw ane
without making her suffer.

And the children?

I'm staying in Paris
until Francine gets better.

We'll look after them.

You'll be allowed
to see them whenever you want.

Please imagine

a man in the prime of life,

generously gifted,
neither rich nor poor,

who slept well

and was deeply
pleased with himself.

I was not bad-looking.

I was both an indefatigable danr
and a discreet intellectual.

I was able to love simultaneous,
which was not easy,

women and justice.

For years, I drifted literally,

for which, to be honest,
I feel great nostalgia.

I drifted until the night when..

On that November night,

I was on my way back home
on the Left Bank over Pont Roya.

I was about 50 metres through it

when I heard the noise

- which, though far away, stunne
in the still of the night -

of a body falling in the water.

I stopped short.

But I did not turn around.

Almost immediately, I heard a cy
that repeated itself many times.

It also travelled down the rive.

Then it died suddenly.

The silence that ensued
in the suddenly still night

felt endless.

I tried to run but I could not .

I was shivering, I think,
with cold and shock.

I told myself I had to hurry

but felt some overpowering weaks
invade my body.

Then I forgot what I was thinki.

"Too late, too far away."
Or something of the sort.

I kept listening, motionless.

Then slowly in the rain,

I moved away.

I did not tell anyone.

What's the title of the new book
you're writing?

"The Fall".

What is it about?

It's the story...

it's the story of a man

whose life suddenly changes

because he was unable
to prevent a woman's suicide.

- It's complicated.
- No, it isn't.

Life is complicated.

How's Francine?

She's better.

She's fine.

Everyone's fine.

You're worried.

No.

I'm fine, really.

The kids are doing well at scho.

Catherine is very good
at arithmetic and gym.

Jean's good at French,

but he doesn't like football, s.

I talk to them about you very o.

No, don't. Stay here, I'll do i.

Everyone would get on
with each other

without these bombs.

And how are things in this area?

Everyone's kind here.

There have been no incidents?

No what?

Problems?

I worry about you, Mum.

I'd like you to come to France.

Paris is beautiful...

but I get bored there.

Not for very long,
just until things get better.

Your street
is a bit too quiet for me.

Plus...

there are no Arabs there.

French Algeria!

Let's go away, they're too exci!

Are your men armed?

If they are, they're only to sht
in an emergency.

Camus with us!

Ladies and gentlemen,

despite the precautions
that we have taken for this mee,

I shall not speak today to divie

but to unite.

That's my most fervent wish.

As far as I'm concerned,

I've loved passionately
this land in which I was born.

Here I took everything that mad.

And I've never refused friendshp

to any man who lives here

regardless of his race.

Camus with us!

"No discussion is possible."

That statement sterilises
any possible future

and every chance of life.

Therefore, it's a blind fight

if the French decide
to ignore the Arabs

even if they know

that the Arabs' demands
are justified,

and if the Arabs decide
to ignore the French

even if they know

that the French of Algeria
have a right

to security

and to dignity in our common la.

We can act...

We can act, at least,

on the hideous aspects
of this fight

and decide

without changing anything
about the current situation,

to give up what makes
this situation inexpiable.

That is,
the killing of innocent people.

Difficult and unrewarding
though our task may be,

we must take it on
with determination

to deserve to live as free men.

In other words, as men

who refuse both to inflict

and to suffer terror.

We'd like you to leave
through the back door

to avoid confrontation
with the crowd.

All this hate out there!

There's no point.

No. Give them time.

The truce may still prevail.

They don't want a truce,
they want blood.

Can't you hear them?

Happy New Year, Floc.

Happy New Year, Albert.

Happy New Year, my love.

What?

There! Happy New Year!

May this new year bring us all
what we wish for the most.

It's gone so fast.

We have to go back tomorrow.

Why so soon?
Schools aren't back till Wednes.

For pupils,
but I have a teachers' meeting.

I go back to work on Thursday:
first reading panel.

You can stay longer, you can hae
the house and lock up.

Why not?

And you don't have
to be in Paris tomorrow.

We'll drive back together.

I know,
but I've got my train ticket.

Besides, there's the children...

That's not really a problem.
You'll hardly see the children.

- You think so?
- I do.

I don't know.

Well...

I'm going to bed.

To bed, kids.
We're getting up early tomorrow.

Good night.

I'll tell her.

I'll do that
and I'll go back with you.

Yes, darling.

It's terrible for me
to be away from you.

But at least, I've realised
how much I need you.

I could never be happy without .

Yes, everything's
been practically settled.

She's going back
with the kids tomorrow.

I'm going back
with Recto and Verso.

By car, with them.

I know,
it's going to be one more day...

But things will be clearer
that way.

I can't wait to hold you in my .

I love you.

You're an angel.

I love you.

The children are in bed.

Why aren't you?

I'm going now.

- What are you doing?
- I'm coming.

You have something to tell me?

Yes.

About tomorrow...

About tomorrow...

I can't believe it!
They're going too far!

I'll tell them
not to make so much noise.

- You're calling me a child!
- You're so silly.

- I'm silly?
- Yes, you are.

You know what time it is?
You're supposed to be sleeping.

We're talking about your book.

Tell us what it's about.

Have you studied
Rousseau's Emile at school?

My book is also
an education novel.

I thought it was about love.

Why write a book
Rousseau has already written?

Dear Mum,

I wish,
at the start of this new year,

that you will always be
young and beautiful

and that your heart,
which cannot change,

will stay the same:
the best one on earth.

I am sending you
a little end of year gift.

Buy something for yourself.
And I mean, for yourself.

A very big hug

and a kiss
from the bottom of my heart.

She saved my life.

Without her, I'd never have
written The First Man .

Francine can understand that.

Do you think things are that ea?

It's cruel to tell the woman
you've lived and had children wh

that you care about another womn
more than anything.

And yet that's the way life is.

Also the French will end up
leaving Algeria,

it's inevitable.

Another life is inevitable.

She is...

- You wouldn't understand.
- I would.

Go on, try to tell me.

When she makes love
it's like she's swimming.

She makes love like a swimmer?

Yes, she breathes like a swimme.

It's very unsettling.

She gives herself in such a way
I've never seen before.

Two years earlier

You need to take a stand.

Against whom?

French soldiers, who torture pee
in the cellars and in Algiers v?

Or against the FLN,
who perpetrates terrorist attac?

Everyone's waiting
for you to take a stand.

My speech only added
fuel to the flame.

I'd better stay quiet.

Pity, your opinion as a writer
would carry a lot of weight.

A writer? I haven't written
anything for six years.

How about The Fall ?

Just a novella.

The truth is I'm dead, literariy

and politically.

- Nothing excites me anymore.
- You're exaggerating.

I'd like to write a book
for the ones I love,

which could touch my mother.

Not another book for those Parin
intellectuals who despise me.

Not bad.

And she can't take her eyes off.

No.

Well then, you don't seem
so dead after all.

Invite her to join us for a dri.

Me?

Yes, you. Women like uniforms.

I'm only doing this for you.

He was right.

You're the one she wants.

Hello, I'm Georges Dampierre.

Albert Camus.

I recognised you.

And you are?

I'm Danish.

Everyone recognises you, Mr Cam.
They turn to look.

At you.

Shall we use first names?
It's simpler.

Not for me.

Why? You think I'm too old?

Not exactly, you look young
for someone who's so famous.

You didn't believe I knew your .
Do I look uncultivated?

That's not what I meant.

Take The Myth of Sisyphus:

"There is but one truly serious
philosophical problem,

and that is suicide."

Not bad.

"Judging whether life is
or is not worth living

amounts to answering
the fundamental question..."

You're embarrassing me.

I didn't know
great writers were so shy.

Sorry, I'll be right back.

Francine?

A speech!

A speech!

Congratulations!

It's amazing!
Nobel Prize in Literature at 44.

- The world record.
- No, Kipling holds the record:.

But you're not far behind.

Malraux.

Malraux should have won it, not.

I can't even write anymore.

It's absurd!

Are you joking or what?

Not at all.
I'm not sure I'll accept it.

Your husband is such a bore!

Here she comes.

Mrs Camus,
have you heard about your son?

Your son has won
the Nobel Prize in Literature.

The greatest literary prize
in the world!

He used to read a lot
when he was little.

How do you feel about that?

His schoolmaster
will be very happy.

Mr Camus, wait!

Mr Camus!

Don't waste your breath,
he won't come.

Mr Camus?

Mr Camus, please.

- Shall I call a doctor?
- No.

- I won't go without the text.
- You can't do that.

You must remember where you put.

I can't, that's the problem.

As it wasn't in our room, I thot
I'd left it here after the rehe.

Can't you improvise?

I don't know how to do that.
I'm not Malraux.

Mr Camus, you should come now.

I can't, I've lost my speech.

Everyone's waiting for you.

I can't speak without my speech.

The king of Sweden is here.

I won't move from here
until I've found it.

Didn't you give it to the Swedih
translator for the press?

That's it.

That's what I did, I'm sorry.

Let's go.

Sire, Milady,

Your Royal Highnesses,
ladies and gentlemen,

In receiving the distinction

with which your free Academy
has so generously honoured me,

my gratitude has been profound
particularly when I consider

the extent to which this recompe
has surpassed my personal merit.

The writer cannot put himself

in the service
of those who make history.

He is at the service

of those who suffer it.

Otherwise,

he will be alone

and deprived of his art.

Each generation
doubtless feels

called upon
to reform the world.

Mine knows
that it will not reform it,

but its task is perhaps
even greater.

It consists in preventing

the world from destroying itsel.

Mr Camus,

in your Nobel speech,
you didn't mention Algeria.

What are your views
on the discrimination

between the French and the Arabs
at Algiers University?

It's not discrimination,
it's a numerus clausus,

which exists because they're
from a very poor background.

That explains the small number
of Arabs at Algerian universiti?

Yes, they can't pay
for their studies.

Mr Camus,
do you still feel a leftist?

Yes, I do.

Despite the Left, despite mysel.

Mr Camus,

you've supported eastern countr,

but for 3 years,
you've ignored Algeria.

I haven't expressed my views
about Algeria so far

but I will now.

- I haven't spoken...
- Algeria will be free!

You've crushed
the Algerians for 150 years,

but the wind of revolt has rise.

We'll throw you to the sea
and recover our land.

I haven't...

Your silence puts you
on the side of the oppressor.

Your silence
turns you into an accomplice!

- Are you for democracy?
- I am.

So please,
let me finish my sentence.

I've never spoken

to one of your militants
the way you have to me.

I was the only French journalist

forced to leave Algeria
for defending the Muslims.

Everyone knows I advocate
for democracy in Algeria.

I have often tried
to unite our two communities.

We're not two communities.

There's the French colonizer
and the Algerian people!

I see two communities:
the Arabs and the French of Alg.

They should try to live togethe.

Do you think you can help

by remaining silent?

Why don't you support the FLN
like Jean-Paul Sartre?

I've always condemned terror.

And I condemn terrorism,
which is practised blindly

and may strike
my mother or my family.

What you call terrorism
is our fight for justice!

I believe in justice.

But if that's what you call jus,

I will always defend
my mother before justice.

They were angry words.
They can't drive us out.

They know it's our country too.

And I identify more
with that Algerian

than with these Parisians
who don't even know Algeria.

He knows what he's talking abou.

They hate us.

It's not hate, it's despair.

The despair of suffering.

I'm so ashamed!

Ashamed? Why?

I shouldn't have come here.

I'm a burden to you.

I should be strong

and help you.

But instead...

You're wrong.

I'm happy that you're here.

Look at me.

I love you.

You're part of me.

So are you.

You're in me.

We're like brother and sister.

Yes?

Come in.

I apologise.

There's a tradition in Sweden.

On Saint Lucy's Day,
in every home,

the youngest daughter
puts candles on her head

and serves breakfast
to the rest of the family.

I won't leave this place ever a.

And I won't leave you.

Why are you talking to me
like that?

Because now I know who you are

and I know you're not my prince.

No...

You look a lot like my prince,

but it's over.
I have seen through your lie.

You,

you want to seduce
that young woman.

You lust after her...

What are you doing?

When you say :
"You want to seduce that woman",

you're not in it.

You're destabilising me!

I can't act with the director
at my heels

repeating all my gestures.

I'll get down then.

Let's do it again.

And I won't leave you.

Why are you talking to me
like that?

Because... now I...

Because now I know who you are.

And I know you're not my prince.

No, you're not in it.

I can't do it.

I can't do it, period!

Am I disturbing her?

I'd better go home.

What's all this about?

We agreed that we'd be free
to see other people.

It was your idea.

Do what you like,
but I can't work in these condi.

- What conditions?
- I can't play

before a director who only cares
about his latest conquest.

She's not here anymore.
She understood it and left.

Come on now...

Anyway, she's just a child.
It's ridiculous!

She's barely younger than you.

You might as well
pick them up at school.

How about a race?

I'm not a bad swimmer.

A whole lap then, breaststroke.

Right.

Your coughing fits
are hardly surprising.

What you thought was a cold
or bronchitis

is your tuberculosis again.

Your sputum sample
showed it clearly.

- Am I contagious?
- No.

At least that.

I'm going to give you
some antibiotics,

You won't need an artificial
pneumothorax, like last time.

You'll obviously have
to stop smoking.

Entirely?

Of course!

And you should avoid physical e.

And strong emotions.

You're not 20 anymore.

Shall I put it differently?

You're like a man driving
with your foot to the floor.

And you're going the wrong way.

What does that mean?

I'm doomed?

That means,
if you don't slow down,

you're doomed.

Open it, Albert!
I know you're there.

Open it, Albert!

What's wrong with you?

You don't come out anymore.

You stopped answering the phone?

I was writing, that's why.

I see...

What's this?

That was my gun in the war.

This can't go on.

You have to come out,
we won't let you lock yourself !

I didn't really understand
what you said in Stockholm.

About what?

I read in Le Monde that between
your mother and justice,

you'd choose your mother.

I don't read Le Monde anymore.

But you said that.

It was my answer to an Algerian
who defended terrorism

as an expression of justice.

I still don't understand.

Leave me alone.

Excuse me?

Leave me alone.

Leave me alone!

You hear me?

What's going on, Albert?

Nothing.

Just the usual thing.

Shouldn't you give up smoking?

Don't you bug me about that as .

Michel's right
asking you what's going on.

You've been looking terrible
for days.

We're worried about you.

- If you have a problem...
- You're pissing me off.

I'll go home on foot,
I need to walk.

Albert...

I thought you didn't want
to see me anymore.

For good.

I tried.

You're so young.

I can't stand old age,
especially mine.

Stop that.

For me, you're younger
than all the men I've known.

Have you known many?

Are you jealous?

Yes, of course.

You shouldn't be.

You're like the first man for m.

Funny to hear you say that.
"The first man"...

That's the title I'd like
for my new novel.

Have you started writing it?

A hundred times.

I never go past the first pages.

What is it about?

My origins.

But I know nothing about my fat,
he died when I was one.

Didn't your mother

tell you anything about him?

My mother?

My mother doesn't speak.

She doesn't speak!

She doesn't.

Two years ago, she broke a leg,
so I flew to Algiers at once.

She was in hospital
and couldn't do anything.

She couldn't read,
she never learnt to.

Or sew
because of her rheumatism.

Or listen to the radio,
she's almost deaf.

Nothing.

I sat next to her

for hours.

And I watched her.

And did you ask her
about your father?

I can't remember.

You know when he was born.

No.

All I know is
I was 4 years older than him...

3 or 4.

What year were you born?

What year?

That was such a long time ago.

Your father was bright.

Like you.

If you had a small moustache,

you'd look like him.

His family abandoned him, right?

Yes.

How old was he then?

I have no idea,
I didn't know him then.

He must have told you.

But that was such a long time a.

I can't remember anymore.

How did you find out
he had died?

I was sent some shrapnel,
it's in that little wooden box.

That thing fell on his head.

Fire!

Help!

For you, who will never be able
to read this book

I don't get it,
you're going with Francine afte?

I thought you were going
to drive back with us.

Don't insist, it's fine this wa.

Perhaps,
but why are we staying then?

I don't feel comfortable now.

Dad, let's go!

Dad, let's go.

Come on, Albert.
We have to go.

Why don't you stay with them?

Things will be clearer,
you're right.

Go, the train's about to leave.

And your angel's waiting for yo.

Go.

That'll be better for everyone.

For me too.

Believe me.

Anoushka,
I'll give you a piece of advice,

which everyone should follow:
do what you like.

- And pursue your vocation.
- I'll be an actress.

- No way!
- If that's what she wants.

You'll come work with me.

And always be faithful.
To yourself, to your ideas,

to your aspirations...
Why are you laughing?

You sound hilarious saying that.

I don't consider myself unfaith.

- Oh yeah?
- I don't.

I don't cheat about my feelings.

The way most men do.

- Who do you have in mind?
- Not you.

Recto and Verso...
you're like Adam and Eve.

No, I've been faithful to them .

To all of them.

In fact,
I'm unfaithfully faithful.

What's The First Man about then?

It's an epic about Algeria.

But it's above all
the story of a couple.

A couple related by blood.

A love story, basically.

In a way.

In which the woman
is what's best in the land

and the man
is comfortably monstrous.

He's thrown
in all crazy events of history.

She goes through history
as if she were of all times.

He speaks all the time,
she speaks very little.

And she says more through silene
than he does, through words.

Who are they for you?

Himself and his mother.
Didn't you get it?

You're not sleeping?

Shit!

We got it, kid.

After all, your grandmother
has more bark than bite.

See you tomorrow.

Mr Germain!

You said you'd give him
extra classes.

Trouble is,
we'll never be able to pay you.

He's already paid me enough.

On 4 January, 1965 at 1:55 p.m.,

Michel Gallimard's Facel Vega
swerved off the road

and crashed into a tree.

Albert Camus died instantly.

Michel Gallimard died
five days later in hospital.

Albert's brother, Lucien, didn'e
the courage to tell his mother.

He asked her daughters to do it,
Paule and Lucienne.

So they went to Lyon street.

Camus's mother was unable to cr.
"He was too young", she said.

She died six months later.

Subtitles: Evaldo de Medeiros

Subtitling: Vdm - Paris