Original subtitles

My son is dead.

I looked inside myself and realized

that I felt no grief.

Suffering is a painted backdrop.

Tears bring me no nearer to the world.

My son...

fell from me like...

a leaf from a tree...

and I've lost nothing.

Joseph is now my founder.

This loss is my foundation.

Joseph has made of me his son.

And I feel boundless joy.

In 1965, Abel and Junon had a son:

Joseph, the first-born.

Two years later his sister was born: Elizabeth.

In kindergarten, the boy developed

a blood cancer called Burkitt's lymphoma.

Only a bone-marrow transplant could save Joseph.

Neither his parents nor his sister were compatible.

Junon conceived a third child

but amniocentesis showed his placenta would be of no help.

Abel left for the hospital in Paris

with his son, wasting away.

Junon delivered in Roubaix

and Henri was born.

No use.

Joseph died 18 months later.

He was six.

Henri wasn't taken to the funeral. He had a belly ache.

Elizabeth became the eldest.

Six years later, Junon had a last child,

Ivan.

Slowly, the memory of Joseph faded.

A CHRISTMAS TALE

Junon?

- Junon, what happened? - Nothing.

It's silly. I fell.

THE ELDEST

I'm sterile.

I'm unhappy.

Angry.

Seething with anger.

I even hate you.

Week after week, the same sorrow hounds me.

There's no end in sight.

Whose death am I mourning?

Mourning...

It's not my brother Joseph.

We never stop talking about him.

No one cares about my son.

And he's alive.

It's as if someone died and I don't know who.

It's silly.

I haven't mourned anyone recently.

I search for the guilty party, the one I can't seem to bury.

To no avail.

Of course...

but try again.

That's all.

I guess when I say this it's a metaphor.

But a metaphor for what?

I'm lacking in nothing.

I'm lacking in nothing at all.

Why do you hate your brother?

Over the years, my loathing grew.

FIVE YEARS EARLIER

Was Henri now vile? Did I ever love him?

He had bought a theater and produced my plays.

Being indebted weighed on me.

I represent the former owners of the theater,

a theater that was never paid for...

- But my client is not solvent. - I will be.

I never paid for it, but I bought it

and now I'm selling it.

I was a shitty manager

but tomorrow I'll double my money.

You are not financially liable for your children.

You're not bound to pay your son's debts.

I am, morally. And Henri is in a situation of extreme poverty.

Is what your father says true?

Of course!

Of course he's extremely poor.

My father was guarantor,

so legally you must repossess his house and business...

In any event, I won't disown my son, however foolish he has been.

If I sell, I can get 700,000 francs.

I don't know who gave you that figure, but it may be lower.

Cut it out. It's just some cash-flow trouble.

We won't be selling anything.

I have a solution, Henri.

Can you step outside?

Of course.

Here are three payments.

My client agrees to reimburse the defendant's debts.

Papa, I have one condition.

I won't see my brother again. He must never speak to me.

Ever.

No more visits, no more surprise gifts.

He mustn't see my son either, or anyone in the family.

What you're asking for is not done, honey.

You're my children.

Obviously you can see him whenever you like.

But I don't ever want to have to put up with him.

At your place, Ivan's, Simon's,

in restaurants, on holiday.

Nowhere.

What you're asking of my client

is unreasonable.

Your Honor, I'm court-appointed...

My clients just want what they're owed.

Madame,

your private life is not a matter for the court.

Wherever I go, Henri won't be there.

Wherever I am, he won't be part of the family.

Henri had never paid a bill.

He had his hands in the till,

waiting to turn a profit on what wasn't his.

He'd have chosen prison over honesty.

When he was dragged to court, I decided to save him.

One last time.

Your sister wanted to testify against you

to deprive you of artistic control.

I pleaded the impossibility of testifying against family.

Your sister asked never to see you again.

I think I heard her say

that you were...

banished.

I think that's the word she used.

I'm sorry.

Crook. Bastard.

That's life.

I'll eat with your sister then take the train at 10:00.

Want to have a drink at the station?

Nine-thirty?

You're not in jail.

It's better than nothing.

After six weeks of protective custody, the judge dismissed the case.

Henri was acquitted.

He disappeared from my life.

You make him out to be the devil.

He is like the devil.

Ordinary, twisted. He's banal.

To be rejected by your mother goes against nature.

Why such animosity between mother and son?

I told you.

Henri is predictable,

like evil.

MEANWHILE, IN ROUBAIX

It's me.

So? What's the news?

As of now it's a refractory anemia...

with a disastrous short-term prognosis.

I didn't understand them, but...

statistically I'm going to die twice.

I have a degenerative cancer

that has a 75% chance of killing me.

The only solution is a bone-marrow transplant.

But the transplant is likely to kill me too.

So...

your chances are slim.

Indeed.

I wasn't that great a deal.

We need to up the ante, like in poker.

I was always lousy at cards.

A one-in-four chance of compatibility with my siblings.

You don't have any left.

Too bad my brother died young.

A 25% chance.

Even if the donor is compatible,

the transplant can kill the host.

Kill?

Yes, kill.

Not the cancer, the transplant itself.

And that's called a...

GVH.

35% chance.

Do we have to run the risk?

Radiation and chemotherapy can't help.

In fact, my blood phenotype is extremely rare.

I never doubted it, sweetie.

Paris, 1:00 a.m.

You okay?

Where is he?

Next door.

Hey, honey.

What's going on?

I come...

here...

except...

Except?

There was no train last night.

It's my fault. I should have been here, for you.

Did Elizabeth see me?

I scared her...

Tell me. What's this about a knife?

Paul?

Can I come in?

My son had a shock this morning.

He heard about Junon.

Take this.

Get me out of here!

At night they take my blood.

THE MIDDLE CHILD

Gotta get the song out

Fireball in my belly

Acid batteries in my liver

Orifices aren't mine

It's all stuck

Broken mouth, torn ass

Eyes aren't orifices

If you poke a hole in one...

an absent eye...

Anyone we can notify?

I'm married, thank you!

Roubaix Hospital - Hematology Service

We've started inquiring at tissue banks.

But there's a real danger

we'll never find compatible marrow.

What about placental blood?

The same.

You have a very rare gene.

What does this mean?

Regular transfusions to offset your lack of red blood cells.

But the infections will increase.

Chances of survival without treatment

are 10% over five years.

Or else?

For infants, as a last resort, we inject the parent's marrow.

A haplo-transplant.

But the odds plummet. It's very violent.

And the other way around?

Children to parents.

It's not done.

How so?

It's not done.

It's a desperate solution.

Why shouldn't Elizabeth give me life?

It's cold. Anesthetic gel.

Are you afraid?

A little prick here.

It's quick and painless.

Just a second.

You're brave.

THE YOUNGEST

Ivan Vuillard, for Paul Dédalus.

- And you're... - His uncle.

Your sister is waiting. Room 19.

How's he doing?

I can't tell anymore.

But he asked to see you.

I guess he heard his uncle went bonkers at the same age.

Cigarette?

Drink?

Nope.

They put mini-antennas in my skull.

To read my thoughts.

Your skull is no more bugged than your ass.

School got off to a bad start.

So at home I went overboard.

What does your father say?

That I'm lonely.

Because I have no good friends.

Do you have bad friends?

I know no one at school.

At your age I became...

I was fifteen...

and my life was reduced to one square inch.

The pain was nonstop.

But I was too young to know it.

One night, it hit me.

My sister said to me:

"One day you'll see how great it all was." She was right.

It was scary but beautiful.

You'll have precious memories too.

But you can't stay here. I'll see to it.

"A painter

with a feel for tits and ass

is a saved man."

Says who?

Renoir, Auguste.

Who else?

Did you do the blood test?

Not yet.

I'll know Thursday, but it's a long shot.

For you it's 1 in 16.

Try harder! My mother's your aunt.

No sense of family!

Shut up.

I saw your nephews on Sunday.

Ivan gave me those pictures.

Damn, they're growing fast.

Baz is in kindergarten?

It's a great age. You're missing out.

Tell Elizabeth! Afraid of upsetting her?

Have you seen the dragon?

She's no dragon.

She's a paper tiger.

She growls, but doesn't bite.

It's been a month.

She asked me to lunch with your parents.

She canceled. Something about her son.

So I ate with your father.

And Paul?

Any news of him?

Never any news of Paul.

No news of Paul since he turned six.

She built a wall around him.

He's a lonely kid.

- They took his blood. - That's bullshit!

How could his blood help?

The thyroid?

What morons!

One morning I received

a form from Abel, for Junon's tests.

We all got one.

When I saw the vials of blood,

I wanted his chromosomes checked.

Paul is compatible.

And you?

I'm not.

Paul has to go before the committee

to get permission to be a donor.

What does Claude say?

This morning he was against it.

Paul doesn't know.

I'm waiting for my results.

We'll wait for my kids to do theirs. Henri too.

Henri's a bastard.

This house is my husband's.

He inherited it the day we were married.

We've lived in it ever since.

Over the years we've fixed it up.

It's become very comfortable.

Abel and I are elderly now... and we still live here.

This is the armchair where Abel reads his paper.

That's the table where I write my letters.

Our children no longer live here. They come for holidays.

The grandkids play in the attic as their parents did.

Five years ago, Elizabeth banished her brother Henri

and the house became less lively.

Thanks to my disease, we're being reunited.

Paul is having trouble. We're preparing for his arrival.

At the hospital, our doctor

has inquired at a tissue bank in San Francisco.

Abel and I are still looking for a compatible donor.

Nana!

We got shots! We were at the hospital!

It didn't hurt. I didn't cry.

The needle made me laugh!

Will we have scars?

- Hang up your coats. - You're real men now!

Baptiste made the doctors laugh.

- Say it! - I can't!

Go on!

I can't!

I said: "Set me free, murderers!"

And you cried, honey.

Good going! Hang up your coats.

Why are you old when your wife's young?

Because I like my women very young.

When I met Junon, I asked for her hand,

and she married me.

Okay, then.

Out of me and Basile, will I die?

Silly question. You're not sick.

Not like Junon.

If a car crashes into Baptiste and kills him?

If you walk outside the crossing

and get hit by a car,

the spanking I'll give you

will be so ferocious that even death will run away!

Today Basile and Baptiste did their tests.

We'll have the results on Tuesday.

Want to talk to them?

Stop it!

Your mother's hitting on me.

I can't do two things at once!

- Is that my boy? - Yes, it's Ivan.

No, she's fine.

You know, there's nothing tragic about this.

It's degenerative.

With the kids here we have no more sex.

Not true!

A little less...

Get lost!

So call me with your results.

And don't forget to remind Henri about his test.

See you and Sylvia on the 22nd.

Mom sends her love.

Poor Ivan.

His wife is lazy. She's a burden.

The mother of a family with all those kids.

Come on!

She only has two and you had four!

But Sylvia's dreary, isn't she?

I'm very fond of that girl.

True, she helped Ivan...

She's no saint. Trust me.

The lot I want...

You have an item,

an emerald demi-parure,

starting at 25,000.

Here's a friend.

Sorry, bad time.

Not at all, young man.

I'm your nephew.

Shit!

Paul?

You're not at school?

I couldn't care less. I'm thrilled.

It's strange, seeing you.

Did you know Junon needs a transplant?

And did you do your test?

Look, Ivan already bawled me out.

I'm guilty and I don't give a fuck!

I'll do their damn test and send Junon the results!

Come for Christmas.

I was in the psych ward. I had a breakdown.

They let me out.

Go home. Tell your mom you came.

I'll call Claude tonight.

Friday, December 22nd

THE LETTER

Elizabeth,

at your son's tacit behest, I'm coming home for Christmas.

What words can we find to pave over five years of banishment?

None, I fear.

Or else they require an inner strength you lack.

My same old principle:

Don't act beyond your capacity to repair.

Junon can get away with anything because she can repair everything.

Others can do little, besides be forgiven.

Thus, you and your husband were both overindulged.

But the excess, madness and violence

of this new family structure

have reached limits I never imagined.

We're in the midst of a myth and I don't know what myth it is.

What will happen at Christmas? Nothing, of course.

But once named, it's easier to endure the discomfort

and to hide under a cloak of boredom.

I know few people

despised as much as I. It never ceases to amaze me.

Yet I imagine on some level it's what I want.

As I set down word after word,

I smile, thinking this letter straight out of...

a Kafka parody: a good beginning for a story.

We're almost there.

All these attempts at mental and social assassination

by some happy twist have turned me into a character

and my life into a novel.

Four years of seeing my parents in cafés in Paris

because my presence stank and I didn't know why.

Being tolerated by my aggrieved kid brother,

like a prisoner on the I am.

Hearing that, when my sister wasn't denying my existence,

she was a driving force

in the wildly indecent attacks fomenting against me.

All this is badly described,

through the stupid prism of my solitude.

No more words are necessary.

What words of yours

could achieve sweetness without sentimentality

after such a mess?

The voice can perform more,

"I swear," as we say in court.

This last, confused paragraph

is to say I know this letter calls for no reply.

You won't find the words

and I don't mind.

It's just that I see you today with fraternal pity.

Reckless sister, you have offended your blood.

Like a girl with a broken vase, you cannot fix it.

It's not your fault, nor the vase's.

Just a silly game that backfired.

Henri.

Where's Ivan?

Late.

Working.

And were you working?

- What's that? - Paintings.

For Abel.

I'm ridiculous.

Here he is.

I've been waiting an hour!

- I don't deserve you. - Yes!

No, I don't.

- You run away. - I do not.

- What goes on in your head? - Nothing.

- Are you unhappy? - Yes, I am.

- Constantly? - Yes, constantly.

Because of me?

How are you?

On December 22 in the train to Roubaix I stared at Ivan

and his cousin Simon, both asleep.

Junon had called beforehand with instructions:

Speak softly, don't play with Paul,

keep Ivan's friends away.

- Not even Spatafora? - Nope.

Keep our boys from their schizophrenic cousin.

Fun Christmas ahead!

- I told you, no guests. - Deliveries?

We go to him, or else no drugs.

- That sucks! - Tell me about it.

You hole up like old folk.

I don't like to go out. Fear of excursions.

We prefer to hole up.

But I'm very hospitable.

Papa!

There was a glowing review of your latest play

in the Nord-Éclair.

Your husband is doing terribly well.

And Paul?

At the house.

He hasn't found his bearings since he got out.

Poor little Paul.

After Christmas, he'll go back to an institution.

It's nice he wanted to see his uncles.

The train stopped in Lille.

They smoked a quick cigarette.

You understand, I need to help the kid.

Paul's lost it, like I did at his age.

But I wasn't put away.

He's young and locked in that prison.

I had to free him!

At 16, I couldn't help myself.

It was Henri and you.

So now when I help him, I'm helping myself.

Understand?

I haven't spoken to Henri in a while.

I'm nervous. Your brother's unstable.

When I was 20, I tried to help.

It's a shame. He showed such promise at school.

Can't you two make peace?

I delight in his decline.

I'm not criticizing but I'm not blind.

You're distant.

No one dares speak to you.

How typical!

Enough about Henri, Mom's sick.

Don't blame me! You always wanted a perfect world.

Well. your brother was not perfect.

And your son is wobbly.

Paul found out he's compatible.

Paul?

What are you doing?

Oh, nothing.

It's dark in here.

I refuse to be holed up.

I won't do the play.

The play's great. The kids love it.

- Speak to Henri? - Yesterday on the phone.

Gets in the 24th.

More!

You're heavy!

Look at this bandit!

Let go of him.

Sylvia!

- Can I hide this? - What is it?

Fireworks.

My baby!

My nephew!

Where's Paul?

Waiting in the living room.

You're here.

Sorry, kid.

- What room? - The attic.

- Take the office! - I'm fine.

- Can I help you? - I'm okay.

The kids are downstairs.

Where's Elizabeth sleeping?

Upstairs.

And Henri? Here or at a hotel?

One thing at a time.

Tonight Elizabeth's in the flower room

and Paul's in the children's room,

not far from his mother.

You'll take the boys with you.

Tomorrow is another day.

Are you okay?

Sorry, I'm taking their room.

Why?

I have to sleep alone. They go in Ivan's room.

Sorry to bother you. I'll just be a sec.

I want to get something.

My stash.

This used to be my room. 1000 years ago.

Little drink?

Sorry, my medicine. I take Haldol.

It's nothing. I know it.

Like vitamin C. May I?

The mattress!

She's asleep.

She always sleeps.

Family trait.

Easy.

Elizabeth!

Come on, sister, get up.

- It's 4:00. - Already?

We're here.

Did you see Paul?

Come join us.

No peace and quiet!

What madman is ringing the bell at this hour?

Pain in the ass!

You could have told us when you were coming.

I'd have picked you up.

I didn't know!

I rented a car,

found a girl and brought her.

Can she stay?

Excuse him, Miss.

Abel. Pleased to meet you.

Faunia.

How can a pretty woman like you be with someone so impossible?

- Where's your wife? - Go say hi in the kitchen.

Your mother!

Stop or I'll wash your mouth out with soap.

My brother! Hello.

This is easy. Last time I saw you, you were 3.

And you, I saw at the hospital.

You saw him at the hospital.

So you're Basile.

And you're Bastien.

Baptiste!

Forget already?

I'm Henri.

No duh!

I got the names wrong, but I recognized you.

You keep changing.

What happened to you?

I got held up. For six years.

Abel's wife...

Faunia.

He never calls me his mother.

Welcome. No one's ever mentioned you.

You neither.

I'm the one with cancer.

That I know.

I wrote a toast for later but I'm thirsty!

Terribly thirsty. I need to drink.

Be nice, kids.

Some wine for your alcoholic uncle.

Yes, I need wine. I'm back. I need to drink.

You okay?

Where did you find her?

Not bad, huh?

- Growing a beard? - Just exhausted.

Bad week. And I learned I'm not compatible.

Welcome to Arcadia, friends.

- Sorry already? - Lay off.

Cursed wolf!

Paul's too old now, but for the kids...

"Medium".

How right you are!

Abel and Simon turned up their noses.

- Was he there? - I don't know.

- He must be hiding. - Must be on holiday.

My cousin Paul. You know him?

Sure.

Stop plotting in front of me.

Go deal with your tree.

The chandelier!

Hi, beautiful.

Hey, bandit.

Faunia... Sylvia.

My grandmother.

Joseph, my older brother.

Junon's brother.

That's Simon as a kid.

This was his father.

And she was your wife.

Madeleine.

What a strange name.

Where was this taken?

Milan.

We met at a conference.

Got married. It lasted a month.

Then she had the car accident.

She was pretty.

Lousy driver.

It was nice here, before.

It's changed.

I'd like to drink to Paul's health.

I loved our vacations. No one believed you were my grandson.

You took my hand and called me Junon. I loved that.

Honey... did you get some rest?

I sleep well here.

Women need sleep, mothers especially.

Some grape juice will do you good.

Hello.

Easy does it!

No way! Sober for Christmas?

No reading at the table!

No one's talking. I'm bored.

I have some good news.

I'm finally back on my feet after my wife's death.

I'm getting remarried.

No, just kidding. It was a joke.

Sorry, it was in bad taste.

When I marry, I don't bring good luck.

I'm not marrying anyone, but I did my blood tests.

Turns out I'm compatible.

Dear mother, you can count only on me.

Thank you.

What a creep.

I wouldn't take your marrow.

I wouldn't offer it to you.

Can I go to bed?

How can you stand his behavior?

He likes to joke around. That's how we met.

Simon!

I'm grateful.

This is unbearable. Henri was lying in wait.

You did well.

Get to sleep!

Your prescription is complicated!

- When is the committee? - I'll call tomorrow.

- I'm not going. - Why?

Your brother is doing it.

You've been a real trooper. Braver than him.

If I were Junon, I'd choose you.

Does Henri annoy you?

Are you okay?

Still don't love me?

I never did.

Same here.

I wasn't a very good mother?

I loved the others a bit. Less than Abel did.

Abel loves Elizabeth, period. The two boys...

I was in love with your sister too.

Maybe I loved Ivan too.

Because he was so damn ugly.

- I was an ugly child too. - You? No!

I was.

And me?

- You? - When I was born...

You, I can't remember.

No memories. Do you have memories of me?

I remember when your brother died. What year was that?

1971

I liked you then.

You were on the veranda. I came out to sit on your lap.

I remember your dress, beige, like velvet.

I climb up...

Yeah, I think I liked you then.

You were three.

And afterwards?

- War. - All out.

But I won.

- Not yet, son. - Excuse me.

You have myelodysplasia. I'm perfectly healthy.

And you need my bone-marrow.

You're so pretentious!

Paul is compatible too.

Paul, the lunatic? Are you kidding? He's an idiot!

Says you!

I'm compatible with lots of people.

I'm a very easy-going woman.

People enjoy my company.

Even a grandson I barely know is compatible.

You're all alone and I'm very popular.

And you may still find other donors.

I don't want that white stuff shot into me.

From you, to boot!

My blood type may even change.

Want to call Dad and run away?

Here.

I don't like this stuff.

I wish I made you proud.

I like you as you are. I am proud.

Of what? I fail at everything.

My little Jew.

Why do you say that?

Because you're my little Jew.

Where it hurts.

Here. Where it hurts when you bang yourself.

The tip of the radius.

Andrée called it the "little Jew".

What happened? My little Christian went all Jewish.

I have no idea. Keep your lingering anti-Semitism.

My handsome little Jew!

I'm the only Catholic in this house.

You're a little Jewish.

You okay, man?

My handsome little Jew.

Are you upset?

Who's upset?

Are you bored?

Terribly.

My bag is in the trunk.

I have to change at some point.

You didn't tell us.

His girlfriend is a bombshell.

Faunia?

See that ass?

You did.

You bet! It's like Angela Basset's.

Not very observant for a painter.

What do you think?

About what?

Christmas, you, Junon's transplant, the kids.

You kidding? I want to leave!

No way, kiddo.

It was hard enough getting you all here.

You're staying put!

Of course.

Too bad we rarely do this.

Family get-togethers.

You must be joking.

With Henri and Elizabeth...

I'm caught in a tribal war.

We missed him a lot.

I thought he annoyed you.

He's my brother. I like him.

What did he do to Elizabeth?

Modesty forbids me from telling you.

He must have been a monster.

No idea.

I know! He slept with your sister, right?

- Sylvia, please! - It's not uncommon.

All brothers try it.

If it were that, it'd be easier.

Maybe Abel knows something?

When you were 16, did you sleep with Henri?

I guess it didn't leave much of a memory.

And my cousin?

- Never. - Are you sure?

Of course.

Because Abel finds you hot too.

Not at all.

If you've screwed every man here, I should know.

A family of weirdos!

The Vuillards are a strange lot.

Not at all. We're ordinary people.

Exactly. You claim to be ordinary.

My father has a dye factory. And my mother's a housewife.

Grandma even wrote schoolbooks.

She was homosexual.

See? Not a leg to stand on.

Elizabeth is ordinary.

Your sister? She got the Fields Medal.

Her husband did.

She's written five plays.

That's true.

You all read music. You all play instruments.

Even my kids write plays.

The Vuillards pretend they're normal and they're not.

That's weird.

I think I'm common.

You have deliciously strange things in some places.

Elizabeth?

You're not talking?

Hurry, please. I can't stand it.

Your brother's a dick,

but my beating him up won't help any.

Paul sees the committee tomorrow.

I'll be there.

There are five of them. The pediatrician,

the anesthetist, a psychologist, I think...

The head of the committee.

I can't remember.

Are you crying?

It's so humiliating for him.

Do that again and I'll dump you.

I know.

Stop humoring me.

It's true.

I was humoring you.

WHAT IS CUTANEOUS GVH?

Lyell's Syndrome:

skin inflammation, blisters,

sloughing of skin membranes,

death by asphyxiation.

When the burns worsen, the patient leaves the hospital

and is entrusted to a Burn Unit.

It says the host can burn alive.

Let me see.

It's not in French.

It is. You read too fast.

It's very clear.

They don't say "burn alive".

They talk about evolving inflammation.

I don't want to evolve like Joan of Arc.

I'd rather die of a nice cancer...

than combust in front of you.

Good night.

Saturday, December 23rd

REUNITED

Simon!

Spat!

- Come down! - Chill, I'm coming.

Hey, sonny.

Good to see you.

- Health? - Never better.

- Family? - Cool.

Love life?

I stayed here.

- Can we go in? - Not really.

- Elizabeth's son. - Paul?

He's not doing well.

And Junon is sick.

I heard that.

So no guests this year.

Give this to Junon.

Is Elizabeth in?

Give her a kiss.

- How's Sylvia? - Cool.

Coming tonight?

- Where is it? - The gym. With Ivan.

Later, sonny.

Girls!

Presents.

Spatafora.

Fell off a truck, no doubt.

- It's nice of him. - He is nice.

Since my son's hospitalization and Junon's disease,

I've been calculating nonstop.

Risk of mortality linked to transplants: 5 to 20%.

Risk of relapse: 15 to 30%.

Probability of recovery: between 40 and 50%.

But the risk of acute GVH reaches 50%.

CONSULTATION CHILD PSYCHIATRY

I won't mention anything.

This is Paul. Have a seat.

Are you okay?

Have a seat.

Are you there?

Henri, is Anatole in the cellar?

He's gone out shopping.

How stupid of me!

Who's Anatole?

You're new in the house.

Anatole is the wolf. He lives in our cellar.

At this time of year he goes skiing.

Who named him Anatole?

Grandpa and Nana named him Anatole.

He used to live with Rosaimée.

Now he's here.

Sorry to ask, honey bun...

With the life you like to lead

is a transplant possible?

I have no idea.

I'm compatible.

Otherwise...

What's this?

I can't remember what I wrote.

There's still a tiny chance that Junon's not sick.

You're pessimistic.

Survival increases life expectancy.

This is what you're scared of.

The doctors kill a healthy woman.

She'd lose five years without being sick!

For now, statistics say you'll get worse.

It's all hypothetical.

You can't keep reasoning in segments.

Counting from one year to another.

Junon is going to die at a precise moment.

Not on an anniversary.

So?

Getting hurt or dying are absolute events.

You don't die a 10 or 12% death. You get the entire event.

The game is on, like it or not.

You either treat it or you don't.

You die or you don't. You're playing the game.

Go from the discrete to the continuous.

The ratio is not one half.

50% equals 1 minus exponential minus lambda.

Lambda, the logarithm of 2.

The survival formula is an integral

from zero to infinity...

1.45 years.

No transplant gets you six more months.

In the same way,

with treatment, this increases to...

3.7. Now...

weigh your living five fewer years with its low probability

against 2.3 extra years with treatment

weighed with a higher probability.

- And you get... - May I?

Be my guest.

Sick or not, if you're treated

you gain about two years.

That's better.

You'd rather pass. Your only freedom is to bet.

The committee gave their approval.

Paul can be a donor.

Be right back.

Sorry.

You have serious relationship problems.

It's a total downer. Let's be objective.

Never a kind word for my girlfriends. I was kicked out.

Yes, honey!

You make Junon cry.

And when you were too young, you stupidly fell

for a man constantly in flight.

Then you have this child...

And I learn from Ivan...

Shut up. I'm here.

I know but you don't count.

Come on, Claude!

This is stupid.

Sorry!

With Elysian strides, off to the Champs-Elysées!

I'm not staying here.

How noble!

We were proud of you, Henri.

Imperial!

Where's Faunia?

Next door.

Keep still.

It's true. Your son wanted to jump out the window last week.

Your husband arrives

then abandons you on a whim.

Seriously, you send everyone running.

I was almost done!

Unbelievable! This is unbearable!

Was I disrespectful?

You hurt everyone...

Get lost!

Ah, miss, you're throwing your life away.

I'm not so sure.

Yes, I'm fucking up. Yes, I drank.

Do as you please.

With you or without, I won't survive.

I'm totally wasted.

Want to know my shortcomings? They're all over.

Want to see my first communion?

My first school fight?

Sorry but the holiday is a disaster.

My sister treats me like shit!

Junon's off to the hospital in three days.

You'll come at a happier time

but please, beat it.

Take my car keys

and get lost.

What was she like?

Who?

The one who did this.

Madeleine.

What was she like?

The opposite of you, I think.

Did she ever come here?

She never had the time.

I was starving.

Make me a coffee?

- Leave me alone. - Are you crying?

No, I'm not crying.

Three weeks ago there was no treatment.

Solitude and disease.

I break my back to get everyone here.

Even Henri came. He's compatible.

Your son is compatible.

And she acts like a princess.

She's fine with cancer in her liver, but no skin rashes!

It's infuriating.

I married her because she was brave.

I don't care.

You're all terrified?

Why?

At worst she rejects the transplant.

It can be a lot worse.

Your marrow is going to take over her system,

replacing it with a growing hybrid.

Not you, not your mother. A chimera.

Head of a lion, body of a goat, tail of a snake.

That's GVH.

It's born in the host and takes control.

It can be beneficial

but if it goes mad, it will hate the organism.

It will destroy its organs,

its bones, its nerves.

Anything.

- Who taught you all that? - Butt out.

When it wins, it dies with your cadaver.

Where is she?

How should I know?

At a florist, a yoga class...

Who is she with?

She disappeared. On a whim.

- I'll find her. - There's no point.

We fought all night. She's as stubborn as an ox!

She's decided to go untreated.

Very grim.

I'll be an hour.

I'll wait in town. I'll walk around.

Be careful.

I mean it.

I see something. Here's a nodule.

You smoke too much, Mr. Vuillard.

Two packs a day and I can stop whenever I want.

I drink too, a lot.

Yes, it shows.

Is it a problem?

For the transplant it'll do. It's risky for you.

I'm not addicted.

I'll go cold turkey. I don't give a shit.

You may get the DTs during the operation.

You're not in good shape.

Gimme the damn form.

I thought I'd go shopping in Lille.

Want to come along?

Just so you know, I prefer not to speak.

I have limited contact with my family.

I'd prefer even less with those of my lovers.

Okay.

Is your disease serious?

Yes and no.

The downside is I can die.

Do you have the organ donor form?

I lost it.

It has to be filled out and signed.

Sorry, but with all the girls Henri brings home,

I get a bit confused.

I have no idea what to give you.

I'm not giving presents.

I'd prefer not to get any.

- Why not? - I'm Jewish.

You're not giving anyone anything?

Not the kids? Not me?

Not even Henri?

It's time you told me what you did

to make Elizabeth hate you.

What can I say?

No idea. I never saw it coming.

I was obnoxious from five to 17.

But you know, I was born that way.

Come on!

You surely did something.

There was the thing with the babysitter.

I was helping her watch Paul.

One thing led to another

and we soon lost track of the time.

I ended up bare-assed, screwing the girl in the dining room.

No big deal!

So why cut me out for six years?

You don't like Sylvia...

Why not?

She took my baby boy.

But you like me.

Why?

You took the one I don't like.

I often wondered what he was like in bed.

Henri?

He likes you.

You know him. He's very enthusiastic.

Perfect.

That's pretty. Does this make me look old?

I have a fat derriere.

You look like Angela Basset.

In six years you never asked her? Never curious?

One day

Elizabeth told Junon about a letter you'd written.

Since when do I write letters?

I can't say more. Everyone always said:

"Maybe Henri wrote her a letter."

Saying what?

I don't know.

Unforgivable things.

Never. That's ridiculous.

Last week I wrote to put her in her place. It was a first.

Why is this here?

What sin have you invented for me?

I just wanted everyone to be happy.

Some things are valuable.

Sell them.

When do you leave?

I'm not welcome here.

Having taken refuge upstairs,

I can hear Henri's laughter.

Junon is playing her life like Russian roulette,

a gun pressed against her forehead,

four out of six chambers loaded.

Henri gloats about being on the verge of killing her.

It's strange. One day I decided to break with him

in order to protect myself and my child.

Then Paul went crazy.

My husband and I blamed ourselves.

I had to see my brother again, to see him triumph,

to understand, physically, that he's the disease.

Can I help you?

I was with a woman earlier.

Have you seen her?

She's already left.

Henri?

Are you there?

By repudiating you, I knew you'd never forgive me.

I accepted the cost.

To build a more harmonious world for my son and husband.

I knew that one day

I'd have to go to my parents' funeral

and you wouldn't shake my hand.

I thought we'd go no further than hatred sealed over a grave.

But there was worse.

Today I can imagine you at my mother's grave

laughing at having killed her,

proud of your stupid heroism,

boasting about the transplant.

Abel will not forbid his son to attend the ceremony.

I will not blame him for it.

I will not manage to quell my anger.

I will have to run away.

But the thief was you.

You will have deprived me of Junon's funeral.

You've stolen my entire life.

For six years you've accepted this incredible thing:

that Elizabeth lays down the law.

How could you accept something so absurd?

I warned you it was unhealthy,

for her, for you, for everyone.

You said: "Let her manage things, she'll calm down."

Bullshit!

These things never calm down!

You and Abel anointed her paterfamilias

and she went crazy.

So deal with it.

Was it before or after my wife died?

When Elizabeth ousted me,

was it before or after Madeleine died?

You should know. I didn't notice, of course.

I figured that's the way she was.

Papa. it was that day in court when she paid off my debts

so I'd disappear,

that I knew she hated my guts.

It all went bad with Elizabeth. I never knew what to do.

It's terribly sad to see these hatreds.

Stay out of it, as usual.

Everyone else could, but not me. I'm an interventionist.

You? You're kidding!

You run around all concerned and helpful.

In the meantime,

Elizabeth and Junon took care of everything.

No one has a clue!

Cool it, Henri. They did what they could.

Idiots, the whole lot.

Later, some day, we'll understand.

Nonsense! "Some day we'll understand."

- What does he mean? - Poor Henri.

How could I have been so blind?

I got trampled on. I wasn't paying attention.

The transplant is on January 1st.

Henri will be the donor.

Okay.

You want me to tell him?

Yes, please.

I went shopping.

At Printemps, with your mother.

She vanished.

Not very talkative.

Don't take Henri's marrow. He's dangerous.

No, transplants are.

You can't refuse me Paul.

While waiting for him at the hospital, I was terrified.

At 12, he could barely read.

He was ashamed to show me his report card.

Finally a door opens and he's fit for something.

Your son is fragile. Don't involve him with my disease.

Don't have the transplant. You have no symptoms.

In two months, I'll have leukemia.

My bones will start breaking like glass.

Henri comes from my womb. I'm taking back what's mine.

Man alone.

Don't dream. You have no family.

I remember as a child the priests told us about grace.

Henri's despair has brought only unhappiness.

I've tried to be full of joy.

You were a good daughter.

I needed your admiration too much.

Men have never counted for me.

My son has been a stranger.

I'll come help you.

I don't need your help, kid.

Come on.

Thank you.

For what?

I didn't buy any presents. I don't know what you like.

I wanted to thank you.

I had to give my marrow. Now you do.

My parents don't want me to.

That's perfect.

Junon is my mom, so it's my business.

If it had been your mother, you'd have helped, right?

But it's my mother, so you shouldn't thank me.

I wasn't scared of the pain.

I couldn't care less!

I wasn't scared.

You've failed at nothing.

Let's go bother Anatole.

I'm 16.

Sorry. Force of habit!

Is she your mother?

She's Andrée's lady friend.

That's her.

Andrée.

My mama.

- Why is she here? - To see you.

- Who is she? - Rosaimée.

Andrée's companion.

Come and give me a kiss!

When your daddy was a little boy

Rosaimée and Andrée

both adored him.

He was the favorite?

Yes. So Rosaimée likes to see you.

Good evening. I'm Spatafora.

I know who you are.

For reading in bed.

It's a flashlight.

Daddy, hurry up!

Don't play with the fireworks!

Daddy, look!

"Remember when you played

the promise-game with me?

Sun and moon

would have died if ever

you lost your Sweeney!"

Champagne?

I love to see the children.

Look at your husband. He's always been devoted.

What's Simon doing on the veranda?

Cleaning up.

Why isn't he out here with us?

Over the years he's changed so much.

He was so sharp before.

Before what?

We always figured you'd end up together.

Me and who?

You and Simon! Before he gave you to his cousin.

When he was young, he was so funny.

Ivan was the most delicate.

Henri was angry with the world.

Simon was the happiest.

When he gave up on you, he became sad.

Gave up on me?

Look at Ivan, running all over!

He's fulfilled.

So healthy! You always look so healthy.

Henri wasn't right for you either.

The three boys made the right choice for you.

They never told me.

Class act!

Beer?

Joseph?

I met all three of them on the same day.

Ivan was pathologically shy.

When he said he loved me, he was shaking all over.

I didn't know I could do that.

Or that someone could find me pretty.

A man loved me to death.

I was a little drab, very sensible.

Henri and Simon were cynical, swamped by girlfriends.

I was shocked. It was delightful.

Henri made a pass at me, as with every girl.

I thought Simon was indifferent. He was arrogant.

So much charm and so many choices.

Ivan was ill.

I was able to save his life.

Marriage made a man of him.

Rosaimée told me you passed on me.

What did she say?

When did it happen?

What do you mean?

I want details. She mentioned a decision you all made.

Tell me where and when.

Was it here?

Easter vacation, 1991.

At the community center. You were next door.

I remember.

Is Ivan aware of this?

It's history.

Was Ivan with you?

Or did you and Henri decide our fate behind his back?

Ivan was there.

What did you say?

Henri and I were talking about you. Guy talk.

Ivan was quiet, smiling.

Then he said:

"If I don't get her. I'll never get over it."

What did you reply?

I can't remember.

- "She's right for you." - Exactly!

The exact word!

"Take her, she's yours."

I'm not to be given, like a camel or a goat.

I didn't give you.

I was 27. An idiot.

I was hollow. Still am.

Did you love me?

Yes.

Do you love me?

Yes.

Scumbag!

You're part of the game.

By choosing for me, you played.

I was right. Ivan loved you infinitely.

It's your love that was infinite.

You played my hand and you cheated.

Now I'll never know my life. It's not mine.

I wasn't free to prefer Ivan.

- Henri was there too. - It's not the same.

You really love me.

Henri wanted sex, and got it.

For 10 years you've had no life.

You're pathetic in your studio.

You don't talk. You're sad.

You spend Sundays doing the dishes,

stealing glances, avoiding my kids.

You're a failure, clinging to the Vuillards.

You never got over me.

Sunday, December 24th

THE PHANTOM

When you were born, I wondered

if you could have saved Joseph.

But you came too late.

Your sister, radiant with health

and you who'll never know who you are.

Some snow here.

Joseph looked like his father, right?

A little.

That's him, in the background.

What can I say?

From his birth to his death, all he did was die.

At the age of four, he was very touching.

Running around the house. Then we found out he had cancer.

You couldn't tell at first.

Then it was the hospital with his father.

It was Abel who really knew him.

I was here with two children,

one who was gurgling in my arms,

the other in Paris under a plastic tent

in a sterile room.

And pregnant with the third!

Joseph was very abstract.

This is the grave of Andrée, my mother.

You'll be buried with Joseph?

I'll be over there.

But your son died in February.

Yes, but I don't like anniversaries.

The day before Christmas, it's empty here.

"I am Defeated all the time,

yet to Victory I am born."

For 30 years we never knew who gave Joseph leukemia.

Well, it was my wife.

You said I'd last three hours. It's been two days.

You're a real saint.

You're leaving?

On the sly.

Be right back.

Safe trip.

Do you have a pen?

Hurry up!

Faunia doesn't like Christians.

She won't take part in any Christmas.

Her family is waiting in Paris,

where they will celebrate a non-holiday:

pasta, chicken, no presents or music.

Everyone will read his paper.

Give Isaac a kiss from me.

You'll be drinking human blood?

Often at midnight we eat a newborn

or crucify ourselves in the garden.

- So I'm not missing out. - No, not much.

Cheat on me and you die.

My friend...

My friend.

PRINCE ZORRO, A DRAMA

This Christmas is really not a success.

I hate being a bad host.

- I love your house. - It's yours too.

Listen to me!

I'm thrilled to be your guest!

What about my ticket?

I don't pay. I'm in the show.

Ivan, look!

Did you go downstairs last night?

Are you sleeping well?

I have become a light sleeper.

I wanted a bottle of water.

Do I use too much cologne?

Am I too made up?

You're fine.

Did you learn your lines?

It's going to be very improvised.

- I'm ready. - I'm ready.

Anyone there?

Occupied!

Where are you going?

To wrap presents for my nephews.

The show's about to begin.

Don't give Paul a gift.

I'd prefer you didn't speak to him.

Why?

Am I not a funny uncle?

You can fool the others. Not me.

I can see you thinking...

I'll go.

- You're very pretty. - An old toad.

You smell like Italy.

Just in time!

- Elizabeth doesn't know? - Not yet.

You're trying to remember the trespasses I committed

and you've forgotten!

That's the catch.

Only one person knows my sins, and that's me.

And you don't dare ask.

My blood's rotten? Same as your son's, idiot!

You can't even help your mother. I can.

Your son can. You're too scared to use his.

Don't involve Paul.

I've changed my mind!

My marrow has a price! Pay up!

Your turn. I want Abel to tell his saintly daughter to piss off.

I want to hear it. When it was my turn,

no one cared. Now it's your turn.

The bone marrow is mine, not yours!

Or else I'll keep it.

Then what? Then it's up to your wacko son!

Go tell that to Junon!

A Christmas play by Basile and Baptiste Vuillard.

With musical accompaniment by Ivan and Abel Vuillard.

Once upon a time there was a brother and sister.

The prince's name was Zorro.

One day his sister the princess said:

Prince, you must leave the castle.

You stole from the peasants!

Wicked knight! What did you do?

I won't say. It's so awful, your ears would bleed.

So we'll torture you!

- Confess, Prince Zorro! - Mercy!

You won!

I did two months. No hard feelings.

Prison's underrated.

Good food, good books, got my teeth fixed,

gave up drugs, met some really great guys.

Two months isn't a bad price.

You're a basket case!

I confess!

I slept with a nanny goat.

He slept with a nanny goat!

You made your sister and your family cry.

Don't give a shit!

King, what have you decided?

In my omnipotence, I think we must know how to forgive.

Okay, Grand Prince.

Zorro, give me your arm.

They cut off his arm and then he was nice

till his dying day.

Sylvia, this is for you.

I gave the envelopes to your wife.

For you and your wife. Some money.

For your family: three wads.

Here, Simon. You're the best.

This is for you.

For your uncle. A gift.

What is it?

From Mom.

How nice.

Henri.

Poor boy...

Something to drink?

Early on, Henri broke the sweet silence of the meal.

His hysterics had sufficed till then. No need for rudeness.

So, as the meal began,

Henri raised his glass.

As the Duc d'Orléans

to his general staff in Spain, evoked without naming

Madames de Maintenon and des Ursins,

his unrelenting, insane enemies:

"Gentlemen, a toast to the health

of the cunt-captain and the cunt-lieutenant."

The captain was for Junon, the lieutenant for Elizabeth.

Henri sat back down and said nothing more.

Saint-Simon.

Good riddance. Henri wore me out tonight.

Gently.

Turn on the light.

Eureka!

What is it?

Paul's medicine. Your grandson's.

He'll be out like a baby till noon.

What the hell?

Why not use the stairs?

Where did you come from?

Where are you going?

Midnight mass.

I'll join you.

It's almost midnight!

Are you coming to mass?

He's too old to sit staring at the TV. How about it, honey?

Who's coming along?

My coat!

Bastien, Benjamin...

I'm Baptiste.

I already told you.

See you later.

When is Jesus going to come?

I dunno. Maybe midnight.

Sure of Your love strengthened by our faith

Lord, we pray to You

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost...

Boys, you should go to bed.

We're waiting for Jesus.

But Jesus never existed!

We'll wait anyway. We want to see him.

It's been years. I love this.

A light hath shined.

Unto us a child is born.

Unto us a son is given.

The government shall be upon his shoulder.

His name shall be

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father...

Then Joseph brings his son to be circumcised.

- The presentation in the Temple? - Not at all.

January 1st is Holy Foreskin day,

which wipes out Original Sin.

- You were praying before. - A little.

It's still snowing.

What a beautiful walk!

Simon's not with you?

He went to join you.

Holy shit!

We'll go and check the cafés.

Put the boys to bed.

- Where are you going? - It's Simon.

Must be in some bar.

What's the problem?

Simon shouldn't go out drinking.

He gets into fights.

Take my keys.

Be careful!

Want a drink?

You've had enough.

That's my business.

The same thing.

- You'll be sorry. - It'll be your fault.

Another chaser.

Me too.

I don't have much to say.

I'm a little scared.

What did you do?

When?

When you lost me?

What did I do all these years?

I tried to be part of your world.

You used to be real bad.

- How so? - Embarrassingly so.

Don't do that.

I have no regrets.

It's great you're with Ivan.

You both get by on so little. You deserve more.

Seeing you from afar I'd think: they're lucky...

Be quiet.

My life is a prison.

What I do has no value.

It's stupid.

The meaning of what I do is bound up in you.

Without you it's empty.

Before you, I was a fuck-up.

I live for you.

I get dressed for you, wake up for you.

But I paint for myself.

I can continue.

Continue what?

Shaking when I see you.

Getting snubbed by you.

Things lose their meaning.

I'll go in the back.

At first I felt something was wrong.

I couldn't understand what.

I stopped wondering.

Today I love Ivan.

At one point I didn't, then it came back.

Look.

As handsome as ever.

I'm your ugly lover.

You're not my lover. Technically.

No way will I do it in a car!

Chicken-shit.

You found Simon for us.

- Everyone's asleep? - It's 4:00 a.m.

Need any help?

I prefer to clean up alone.

So leave me alone!

See you tomorrow.

I wonder where they'll be sleeping.

It's none of our business.

- You were with the model for a while. - Two years.

Were you jealous?

I was better than her.

But you loved her?

She was tall!

I was bored.

But I needed a girl and she needed a protector, money.

It was sad.

Monday, December 25th

JUBILATIONS

Baptiste, look! It's snowing!

It's snowing!

It's snowing outside!

I'm hungry. Where's Mommy?

Mommy... came back really late.

She didn't want to wake us.

Where is she?

Come here.

She's...

probably in your uncle's room.

Can we make breakfast?

I'll make the tea!

Wait for me.

My boys!

I made the tea by myself!

The coffee's for Simon.

We didn't need Daddy's help.

How sweet.

We woke up Daddy.

It's snowing.

What's that?

Weights.

When you think about it, it's funny. We have the same gene.

You're my nephew, which tends to prove I'm Junon's son.

Which is pretty strange.

You didn't think you were her son?

She and I aren't too close.

I preferred to imagine

my father sleeping with other women.

Or that I was born by caesarian,

or in situ or in vitro.

I'm no specialist in that field.

It's pretty confusing.

But it seems I came out of Junon.

- Did Dad scare you? - No, fights are easy.

Since I'm weak, I know I'll lose.

Have mirrors ever freaked you out?

How so?

My reflection persecutes me.

What do you see?

Behind me, a black dog.

But it wasn't real. Just the image of a dog.

And once my reflection stared at me

in a vicious way.

Taking your meds?

It only happened twice

and I hope that's it.

I understand, Paul, why you're not well!

You think you're crazy because of the myelodysplasia.

It's your mother who conceived you in grief.

Elizabeth is melancholic.

She's the bored one. Not you!

You're cured, Paul. Rejoice!

What are you thinking?

Nothing.

Remember what you said that first night? Here, in the same parking lot.

- "If you want to date me..." - "Ask me to dance, idiot."

And you asked me.

Do something.

You're doing nothing and I can't work.

Now I forgot where I was.

Take a book and read. Any book.

I can't.

Go on, it's a mitzvah.

You sound like Henri.

Why keep the dye factory?

Why not find something better?

Dying fabric is just fine.

Why am I always sad?

Is it normal?

As a child, I wasn't always sad.

It's a real question. What did I lose?

Your brother.

Papa...

Listen.

"We, seekers of knowledge,

remain unknown to ourselves

with good reason: we have never sought ourselves.

How should we some day find ourselves?

Our treasure is to be found in the beehives of knowledge.

Bees always searching,

collectors of the honey of the mind,

our hearts are set on one thing:

bringing something home...

As for the rest, as for life

with its so-called experiences,

who among us takes them seriously?

Who has the time?

...who hears the clock striking twelve

and, once roused, asks himself:

'What did the clock just strike?'

In this way, we rub our ears after the fact

and ask ourselves, surprised:

'What have we experienced?'

Then we try, after the fact,

as I just said,

to count back over the twelve strokes

of our experience, our life, our being,

and lose count in the process.

We are unknown to ourselves.

We do not understand ourselves.

Concerning ourselves,

we are not seekers of knowledge."

You don't know me.

I'm not like that.

In the evening

FAREWELLS

Thanks for Paul.

Sylvia!

Why is Paul staying here?

I invented Ivan by living with him.

I'll invent you by not.

Why is Paul staying here?

- Because what? - Just because.

You and Simon will help Abel at work tomorrow.

Henri Misery!

- Why do you call me that? - I don't know.

You always used to complain. Belly aches.

Henri Misery.

Dreaming?

About my mother.

Don't come along. Henri will drop me off.

Did you hear me?

Go to work.

Need a light?

You shouldn't be drinking.

It's general anesthetic.

Does it hurt?

Here I go.

Attaboy...

Keep quiet.

Out like a light.

- His cortex is very thick. - Yeah, really hard.

I keep pushing and twisting...

BLOOD DISEASES STERILE SECTOR

I'm the nurse taking care of you today.

I brought your medicine.

What is it?

An immunosuppressor.

I brought your clothes. Shall I put them in the closet?

I'll put them on the bed.

See you soon.

Mrs. Vuillard's bone marrow.

Can you open it?

I'll take it.

Sign here, please.

The cell count is 165.

We have it.

You are Mrs. Junon Vuillard?

Very good.

Ready?

I'll do it.

Perfect.

Excellent.

There's a lot of it.

We'll leave you.

Buzz if you need me.

I'll be back later.

Mr. Vuillard?

You just woke up.

The procedure went well.

What did you do with my marrow?

We filtered it in the lab. Are you in pain?

Stay put. I'll give you Temgesic.

Help me, babe.

It's your health. Here.

My clothes.

What room?

Here. It's a sterile environment.

Here's your son.

How are you doing?

I'll put you here.

Here's a chair.

I'll leave you two.

Am I bothering you? I woke up.

My body can't stand you.

I'm rejecting everything from you.

I hope it doesn't hurt.

Good.

I feel like I was punched in the back.

The procedure?

Look at this.

And this.

Hurts like hell!

They stole our stuff.

Want to play?

Heads.

Wait!

Go on!

I woke up early, a hundred memories flooding my mind.

Claude's chest when he was 20 and looked 16.

Paul wearing two feathers, whispering to me:

"I'm Pegasus!"

My father, brothers

and Simon playing in the garden.

Junon will get better.

The transplant will take.

I'm not scared of death.

I now live in the world made by my son.

If we shadows have offended, think but this:

all you have done is to sleep.

And everything will be mended.