Original subtitles

So Sarah's not coming?

No.

She has a girls' brunch or a shower or something.

You got in a fight.

Not at all.

We're actually in a really good place.

Oh, fuck!

OK, don't freak out, but Rivette's sister is gonna be there tonight.

Fucking hell! Doesn't he know we hate her?

She won't bother us. She's shooting a film for school.

She'll annoy the fuck out of us with that.

Rivette said she'd stay out of our way.

She'll do her thing. We'll do ours.

We won't even know she's there.

GIVE US OUR DAILY BREAD...

SAINT-FAMILY BREAD!

OK.

What took you so long? Which way did you take?

Look, we got here. Does it matter how?

Take this.

Matt, I know you'll be as happy as I am to learn that my sister's here.

She's off with her friend Matisse. They're filming trees or some shit.

You didn't drive 125 km to sit on the fucking counter, OK?

They just got here! Give 'em a minute!

What's up?

Same old, bruh.

OK, let's go. The sun's gonna set.

- Are you shitting me? - What?

I literally just told you.

Frank.

At this rate, I won't make it to dinner.

Max?

- Max? - Brass.

- What? - Stop it!

What? We're still on that?

I know you don't touch the hard stuff, but it's just weed. I forgot.

You never listen!

Do you ever listen?

Well, it's nice to be among friends!

Poor Brass needs some love!

You guys are always giving me shit. I'm sick of it.

Go fuck yourselves. No, let me go!

Don't touch me! Stop it!

- OK, guys! Let's go! - Just go swimming, idiot!

- OK, I'm going. - I'm down too.

Hey, guys?

Here we go.

OMG, so, like, my friends were supposed to drive down

to shoot the film,

but, like, last minute, they ghosted.

Come on! Main menu: proper French.

No, just the stupid bitch version!

Are you sure that's not the bony fag version?

OK, your friends bailed. Who cares?

Well, they were supposed to play in the film.

- Oh boy! - Matt!

So, like, would two of you guys be down to play in the film?

Me, never.

To act in the film, Erika. You study film, dipshit!

Get off my back, homo!

Look, you told Mom you'd stay out of our way.

- So leave my friends alone! - Let them fucking decide!

I'll do it.

I don't mind acting in your film.

Oh my God! You're so nice! Told you Max was the chillest.

OK, fuck off.

But I need two people.

I'm gonna kill you. Is that what you want?

No, I can't act for shit.

Ask Brass. No, ask Frank!

Yeah, ask Frank!

Good one!

All right.

But seriously, guys, if you're down, I'm fucking down. For real.

$24,000 a year to talk like a bimbo and Instagram her breakfast burrito.

You're fucking crazy!

You were good in Anna Karenina in high school.

- Shut the fuck up, asswad! - But you were touching!

The crying felt real!

An illiterate douche crying with a Parisian accent!

Or an elephant trying to floss.

Drown him!

Let go of me, fuckface!

You like it when I touch you, don't you?

Let go!

Just shut your eyes and think of your teacher!

Fuck off!

Think about that old, old man!

Yo mama so fat, her Patronus is a Burger King.

Yo mama so fat, she ate her Patronus.

I don't think I'll come back for the first Christmas.

Really?

So you'll be gone a full year?

Yeah.

And...

what about your mom?

My aunt Ginette is gonna take care of her.

Yeah. We went to the notary.

She's gonna take over as guardian.

I mean, I'm not the only one in the family.

And it's pretty simple.

You pay the bills, buy groceries, make sure there's no cash lying around.

Any idiot can do it.

Yeah, I'm allowed. It's the Commonwealth.

I don't need a visa.

Yeah, OK.

You gonna bartend, still?

You do need some documents. You can't just waltz in.

That's why I need that letter of recommendation from your dad.

I'm working on it. It's not my fault he's busy.

Wait, I don't get it.

You're not volunteering. You're gonna make some cash, right?

No, he's going to a country that doesn't take Visa.

- Come on, dummy! - But Max?

Yeah, I'll work in a bar at first.

It's easy. I know how.

You're going all the way to Melbourne to work the same shitty job?

Wire him $200,000, and he can be your roommate at Cambridge.

No, but I'm fine with it. I'll work in a bar at first.

And slowly, I'll start to find my...

- Bearings. - My bearings.

Jesus Christ!

The art of shoving words right down people's throats!

My bearings.

Fuck off!

- You've done that since we were kids. - It's true.

Excuse me?

You always do that. You always have.

I've never done that before.

- What? - Come on!

What? Are you crazy, Matt?

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about your mental illness!

You're mental!

I've done that two, three, maybe four times.

You did it at Suzie's birthday last month!

You corrected some grammar thing while I was lighting the candles.

Brass got it on video.

No. I don't remember it, anyway.

It's on Instagram or something.

- Wow, aren't you cool! Show me! - I'm gonna.

- Someone's here. - Must be Shariff.

I said I was lighting the birthday cake.

You were like: "You light candles, not cake."

So pretentious!

It's true, but I never said that.

You did it at the gym.

- What? - At the gym earlier.

What did I say?

Well, if it isn't Shariff-with-our-taxes!

How are my favorite bitches?

He's buying fancy new clothes with our tax dollars!

While you write your bullshit thesis, we're working real jobs!

I built a car with my bare hands to get me to school!

So, what are the taxpayers conferring on on this tranquil night in the country?

Who are you? Denys Arcand?

You high?

Depends. But what were you talking about?

Nothing.

No, about Matt's need to always be right.

That's not even it!

He was saying I corrected his grammar on one fucking word.

Oh my God! Matt the grammar Nazi. Timeless classic.

You're winning, Rivette?

Is eating like a pig part of the hipster rocker starter-pack?

And get your feet off the table, hobo!

Come on, guys!

Warning: I'm getting dangerously close to the video.

Guys, guys! What's that smell?

What?

- I don't smell it. - Oh, never mind.

It's just the smell of Matt losing a bet.

Am I on trial now, here?

Oh, snap! I found it! Best day of my life.

- If I'm right... - You get nothing.

No way! You want to be right.

You're 100% sure you never said that?

100%, but I won't bet.

We don't have to bet money.

Wait, why not? Rivette made a mistake, Matt corrected him?

Yeah.

Shit, guys! I have student loans to pay off!

- I know what to bet. - Fuck off, dickwad.

We'll bet your Desponts.

It's not "Desponts," it's...

Whatever, I'm not betting the lighter my father gave me.

- You don't even smoke! - I smoke socially.

Especially while correcting grammar at birthday parties.

OK, bet whatever, fuckface! Do it!

I know what we'll bet.

But I can't say it.

That's not fair.

You won't lose anything or suffer physically.

No jumping in the lake. Trust me.

Tell me, Rivette.

If you're right, you're right. Isn't that enough?

Matt, you have to promise you'll do it.

Seriously, Matt, it's fine.

I know I'll win anyway. I never said that.

Not at that party.

- I'm lighting the cake! - You light candles, not cakes.

That's exactly it, fucker!

Fuck! Goddammit!

OK, you win. What's the bet?

You have to be in Erika's film.

Well friggin' played!

Oh my God! Did I hear that right?

I got fucked.

I told you she'd annoy us with her stupid film, didn't I?

Might not be stupid.

Come on.

Excuse me, guys.

Have you two ever kissed before?

Never while washing dishes.

But seriously.

No.

Maybe...

that one time...

In high school, I think.

No!

So not for a long time, right?

'Cause that's the scene.

Two guys.

Two guys making out.

You're such a dick, Marco! You're being so injust!

I'm not being unjust, Erika.

You're pissing us off with your dumb ideas!

It's not dumb. But you should've told us before.

You made a fucking bet!

- Matt, you can't bitch out! - That's not the issue.

Who the fuck cares?

You guys are always braiding each other's hair

and wrestling and shit.

Like, Jesus! Chill, guys!

Shut the fuck up, assclown!

Why didn't you tell us?

Who cares?

Stop speaking English, you wacky hoe!

What's the difference? There!

It doesn't bother me. That's not it.

It's no problem. It's fine.

We've done it before anyway.

Stop saying that!

- What? - It's true.

Yeah, at Karine Mercier's party, freshman year, Logan Street!

Frankie, the Stalking Mofo!

I took three hits of ecstasy. It wasn't kicking in.

Anyway, I don't care! It doesn't bother me.

What the fuck?

Dumbass.

Oh my God! It's so beautiful!

Do I have to wear this?

I think it adds contrast to it.

And does Vegeta have to be here?

Who's Vegeta?

The asshole on Dragon Ball.

The HBO show?

Never mind. Could he...

Could you maybe finish that upstairs?

Your creation?

So, basically, like,

the film is, like, super impressionistic,

but it's also, like, expressionist.

Are you following me?

Well, I'm not an expert,

but impressionism and expressionism,

can you have both at once?

Well, actually, that brings me to the synopsis.

Two women. You're, like, two women or men.

And all of a sudden, bam! You're kissing.

But, I mean... Sorry.

Don't wanna kill your vibe, but...

we're guys.

Oh my God! You're too cute!

OK, like, it's kind of tricky, 'cause...

for your generation, like, maybe.

But I don't, like, use labels to define myself.

And visually, for sure,

but apart from the beard and all that masculine shit,

like, who really knows?

Did they really make out in high school?

Yeah, it's a classic.

If it was a classic, Matt would remember.

Anyway, I was there, and I never heard about it.

Well...

What?

Dumbest shit you've ever said.

- What? - You're in psych at Cambridge.

You think Matt's gonna get a tat on his face:

"I made out with Max in high school. Never forget!"

Best day of my life! Thank you!

Frank's a university janitor who solves math problems at night.

Doesn't take a genius to come up with that. Chill out.

Yes. Frank is Will Hunting.

He's read every damn book in the library.

I got anger issues, but I'm smart as a fox.

Smart my ass.

Well, it was pretty—

You are not hidden, fuckers!

Go.

In four, three, two, one.

Action.

You asleep?

Can I help you?

The Rivette cottage?

- Rivette? - Yeah.

Good Lord! That's not next door, son!

Do you want me to drive you?

What the fuck is he doing way out there?

Holy shit!

I got lost.

What were you doing out there?

You OK, Matt?

TWELVE DAYS BEFORE AUSTRALIA

You'd make daddy proud!

I actually took the liberty of texting Mr. Ruiz

to tell him his boy was climbing the ladder!

Now, I don't want to put the cart before the horse,

but you are very impressive.

And I think that in...

I can't say when exactly. Let's keep it vague for now.

But soon, or shall I say, it won't be long...

That's it.

It won't be long before I give you more responsibility,

or as I like to call it, a two-window office!

Well?

No, I'm...

Obviously, I'm very happy to hear it.

You know, Matt...

No, Gilles, it's just that—

No, wait, wait!

At your age, it's normal to have...

doubts.

To doubt.

And try new things.

You wake up one day, and...

you're stuck.

Yep.

Sometimes, you spend your life doing one thing,

and in the end, it wasn't your thing.

OK, we'll forget about the promotion, for now!

Let's get back to the Thompson case. Where is it?

This morning, I spoke to Mrs...

What's her name again? Names, story of my life...

OK, just hang on a minute. I'm completely lost.

What are you doing?

I'm making those noodles you like.

Have you heard from your brother?

You still like the noodles, right? You did last time.

Yeah, yeah.

The little shit won't return my calls.

What's the deal?

You don't have to smoke the second you get up.

What are you doing?

Quit playing. Give it!

I'm seeing Aunt Ginette tomorrow.

Lucky you!

She's semi-retired now. She can take care of you while I'm gone.

I don't need that crazy bitch here.

I'm not in a wheelchair.

For the paperwork, groceries, money. The guardianship.

She's gonna do it.

Excuse me?

You know you need someone to take care of you.

I don't need anyone! Get that through your head!

I don't need you or her or anyone! I don't need anything!

Calm down. I don't wanna hear that rant!

I'll rant if I want to. This is my house!

- Well, I pay the bills. - With my money!

You just take it to come here and shit on me!

And you can be trusted with money?

You're suffocating me! Mister-I'm-a-Dictator!

I'm sick of your fucking face!

I'll come back when you're calm.

Good thing your brother can't see you.

Does he know what you're doing to me?

Not again, Jesus!

- Does he know? - He's known since the beginning!

Yeah, I'll bet!

I'm sick of having the same fucking fight!

- You're a fucking liar! - I'm not fucking lying!

Enough already! Fucking hell! We're trying to help you!

Well, I don't want your help! I don't want your money!

You fucking need me!

You'd be on the street if it wasn't for me!

- You'd be living in a fucking dump! - Fuck off, you little shit!

Go fuck yourself!

I missed you this weekend. Did you miss me?

I wouldn't say "missed."

God! Not the ribs, please!

I love you.

Did you pick up the wine?

What wine?

For Martine's.

It totally slipped my mind. It's tonight?

It's fine. I'll go while you shower.

- Is Max gonna be there? - I don't know. Ask him.

Why? Did you guys fight?

No, I was just wondering.

OK, get in the shower.

Hey, Julien! It's me. How's it going?

Why are you speaking English?

Hey, Julien! It's me.

Nice message. I don't even recognize your voice.

Listen, I just left Mom's place.

I thought you should know

that she's been clean six months.

So, that's...

I mean, she's making progress.

Anyway, I don't know if you have plans next weekend,

but I was thinking we'd do a dinner or go to a restaurant for Mom's birthday.

I'm sure if you came all the way from New Haven,

she'd be really happy to see you.

Get off the phone, asshole!

My God! He's not kidding around, huh?

I bet the Brit kids at school aren't half as good!

He's in a jazz band.

Well, was. He didn't like it. Right, Marco?

Ma! You nag me to play and now you won't shut up!

My God! Forgive us, Amadeus!

We'll be as quiet as mice.

Mice!

What was he doing in a jazz band?

Beats me!

I can hear you!

The latecomers have arrived!

The latecomer. Sarah has nothing to do with it.

Sarah, sweetie! How are you?

Here we go again!

You were late for 20 years,

and now that I've moved out, you're early everywhere.

You are always early, Francine!

Colette Kostopoulos, only a traitor like you could aim so low!

Who am I playing for?

Did you have to get it everywhere?

It's part of my new look.

Love it.

Why do you check your watch when there's a clock there?

Why'd you put a white cap on your bleeding ass?

My head, not my ass.

- Stop it. - It stings!

It's supposed to.

What are you gonna do when you fuck up your face in Australia?

Stop it!

I won't fuck up my face.

I didn't fuck up my face. I felled.

Fell. I fell.

What are you gonna do over there?

Like, in general or day-to-day?

I don't know. Both.

I'm gonna find a job. What else?

You have a job here.

Aren't you thriving in this bar with me?

The bloody sweater looks pretty trashy.

Grab something from Éric's locker.

You got plans on Friday? Night.

Depends. I finish Caro's shift. Bitch has to leave at midnight.

'Cause my friend Shariff is throwing a party.

Everyone's gonna be there.

Would it be, like, a date?

No, I just need a ride.

Yes, a date!

So, I'd spend my Friday night getting punched in the jugs

by a bunch of bros playing shitty word games?

Pretty much, yeah.

- Interested? - Who wouldn't be?

Yeah, I'll be there.

- One goddamn stupid cow! - You couldn't have known!

Jean-Marc told me: "My new boss is Jamaican.

"We call her Ilsa the She-Wolf,

She dresses like a nun."

So I'm warning the guests and Jocelyn, who had brought his new girlfriend.

Tall, gorgeous girl.

Legs up to here.

And I'm going on and on.

"Jean-Marc's boss dresses like a nun. She's more Catholic than the pope."

- It was her! - It was her!

Get out of here! Lock her up and throw away the key!

I'm telling you!

It wasn't Jocelyn's new girlfriend. It was the She-Wolf!

- That devil! - They showed up at the same time.

And she just sat there listening!

Listen, Jamaican, my ass! I'm more tanned than she is.

She was white as snow!

- It's true! - She was! You were there!

It's an assignment.

Really?

Yes! To shoot a short film. Around the theme "Who am I?"

My God, Erika! You really have a great eye.

Seriously, guys, quiet.

Yeah, we'll miss all the dialogue.

- Are those sunflowers? - Daisies.

- Are the swings non-binary? - Die.

I'm serious. They don't have a penis or vagina?

LIMBO

Well...

Very nice!

So, the grading and sound mixing aren't done,

and Matisse hasn't done the end credits and shit yet, but...

Congrats, Erika! It was beautiful.

It was very captivating. I was captivated.

Yes, hats off, Erika! Hell of an assignment you got!

I don't know about you guys, but I was getting hot!

I'm so proud of you, sweetie!

You have a gift. You should believe in yourself more.

A gift for using five English words in a six-word sentence.

Shut up, you fucking trash!

Erika! Marc-Antoine, be nice to your sister!

You didn't tell me you were in her film. That's cool!

I didn't think anyone would see it.

It was great!

- You OK? - Yeah.

- Did you go smoke? - Yeah.

It's a metaphor.

- It was very sensual. - Absolutely.

The color of the shirt, that, um...

Tomato red!

It was very moving.

Very, very Eldomóvar!

OK, who wants a lemon water? I'll go make some.

- I'll have one! - I can do it!

You stay right there! It's your night!

If you insist.

Our little boys, all grown up!

Those two have done it all.

Yeah, and our dear Max...

- What a life! - I know. Shush.

You didn't tell me, Matt! What a lovely film!

You killed it, Matt, for real.

You could have told me! Why didn't you wait?

I couldn't find you.

But it's, like, a minute long. I can play it again if you want.

What, you didn't like it? It was good!

I just didn't know we were doing the big premiere!

Come on! It's just us.

And Erika's so proud of her film. Right, sweetie?

- You really killed it, Matt, seriously. - It was very good!

It was good, Erika, but...

You agreed to be in a film. That's showbiz!

First off, I didn't agree to... Explain it instead of just sitting there.

Me? You explain it.

There's nothing to explain, babe.

Don't call me "babe." Sorry, I just...

Colette Kostopoulos! You better not forget my lemon water!

It's coming!

Martine, what the heck is that kettle?

You got a screw loose or what?

What?

Come on, Colette! That's not a kettle. It's an air purifier.

That's the kettle!

Mind if I put on some music?

Suits the mood.

Can I come to your girls' night tomorrow?

It's your house too, Matt.

Did you ask your mom what we should bring Friday?

What we should bring to eat on Friday.

What's on Friday?

Her garden party.

Is there a garden-party festival and no one told me?

A festival of garden parties you forget about. It's in full swing.

What's it for again?

Hello? What for?

Max's going-away party?

Oh yeah.

Yeah, I knew that.

Yeah, yeah.

I'll ask her.

We won't smoke outside like beasts! I'll open the window.

Isn't that nice?

Nervous? The big adventure!

Seeing anyone these days?

You?

God!

That train's left the station, hun.

Why? You're pretty!

- You are! - That's nice of you to say.

You've always been nice. That's your problem. Nice guys...

People don't trust them. I don't know why.

That's just the way it is! Too bad.

But you'll find someone, I'm sure!

Look...

This is all the paperwork...

Yeah.

...for the meeting next week.

We have to go back to the notary

to make you the official subrogate guardian.

Oh my! Subro-what? Whatchacallit?

Subrogate. Subrogate guardian.

Oh lordy! We're not messing around!

OK, I got time for another smoke.

Subrogate.

Let me take a look.

- No, it's... - Let's see.

It's just a bunch of papers with details about the guardianship

and the transfer of property and all that.

Goddammit!

Account statements, bank stuff, you know?

There's a shitload, eh...

Basically says you'll be responsible for her money.

For everything.

You'll be her guardian.

She's not always easy, but...

Yeah.

What's that on your forehead?

It's nothing.

You should see the other guy!

Small but terrible! Ya little thug!

Oh my! Lunch break's almost over.

Time flies when you're a subrogate!

Don't wanna be late on my last day!

OK, what am I forgetting? There's always something.

- Your smokes. - Yes. And paperwork's there...

Quick, 'cause I'm late.

OK, Ginette! Back to the office.

A young lawyer from Hartley-Himelstein will be visiting this week.

Yes, from Toronto.

That's right! His name is...

I had it two minutes ago. On the tip of my tongue.

McAfee.

Mr. McAfee.

He's coming Friday to have a look around,

check out our firm.

It's pretty straightforward. Take him out, woo him.

Pasta at the trattoria, a single malt downtown.

A cappuccino at McCafé. And wham!

Make sure he tells his bosses to come see us next week.

I'll get you the details:

flight number, arrival time, hotel...

Let me just find it.

I'm counting on you to show him a good time.

Watch out for the car!

Good thing you're here!

ONE WEEK TO DEPARTURE

Rivette's mom is getting rid of the dryer at her cottage.

Rivette said she'd come up with a price, but I think she'll just give it to us.

Fucking hell!

Tough noggin you got. It busted the remote.

I didn't mean to hit your forehead.

Did you eat?

Did you eat this morning?

Yeah, I ate.

Well, answer my question! I'm not psychic.

I just told you I ate breakfast! What do you want from me?

You got plans for lunch?

I could make my Swiss Wagon-Wheel pie.

Remember when you and your brother would get home from school?

- You'd smell it, and— - I was there. I remember.

You need pie crust to make that. And ham and broccoli.

I didn't buy any of that stuff.

There's no time to make that. What's the point anyway?

I just want to do something nice for you. Is that allowed?

Can't we even try anymore?

You don't have to make Swiss pie. Who am I, the Princess of Monaco?

You tell me.

Jesus!

Let's go!

My French is terrible, but I speak it a little.

Do you like it?

Yeah.

I can't read your mind, you know.

It's good.

Have you... I, uh... Shit!

I left a message, or tried to leave a message for Julien.

Yesterday.

Have you heard his new voicemail message?

He just changed it.

You know, the recorded message on the—

Yeah, I know what you mean.

Right.

I haven't called in a while. He never calls back, so...

Anyway, I think...

I think you might find it funny.

His message.

He's joking around. It's a prank.

It's ringing.

He won't answer.

I don't understand English.

Listen. You're supposed to...

You kids all speak English now.

Just listen!

Anyways, it's...

The idea is...

You think he answered, but it's actually just a message.

OK, give me back the money.

Give it back before you go.

I've changed. I'm doing fine.

I'm fine.

What are you doing?

- Come on. - What the fuck am I doing here?

OK, come on. Sit down.

We can talk. We're adults.

Come on! Sit down a minute.

We can't fight like this forever.

It's gonna take a lot of fucking Swiss pies!

I'm not giving you the money. Got it?

You'll have to kill me first.

- What are you doing here? - What the fuck?

Calm down!

Fucking hell!

That's it, go hide! I've seen that one before.

Max hiding in the washroom! Max hiding in the closet!

Shut up!

You shut up!

You OK, little girl?

Is she crying? Is my little girl crying?

Am I boring you, my friend?

We can speak French if it's easier.

I'm just worried about being late.

Late for what?

You're close?

OK, veggies are in the garage fridge.

Sauce, check. Crab dip, check.

Could you write any smaller, Francine Lamy?

You're always looking for trouble!

I made you sloppy joes, Max!

I know, Francine. Thank you! You didn't have to!

- Oh, please! Don't be silly! - No, but...

And you better get 'em while you can!

I'm sure sloppy joes don't grow on trees in Oceania!

Oceania! Just south of Indochina, right, Francine?

The Rivette-o-thon, ladies and gents!

Should I pop by the package store, get a couple barrels of bourbon?

Fuck off, princess!

Come give me a hand, princess!

Life goes on when you stop your babbling!

Come on, get over here!

Give me a minute.

Fuck, I'm beat!

An hour late, and you're "beat"?

You didn't inherit your father's gift for excuses!

I texted you! The matriarch's lament...

The matriarch was slaving away cooking! Didn't have time for texts and games.

Why buy a phone if you leave it in your room?

Don't start, Internet generation!

You made it!

We had lost hope.

- You OK? - It was the guy from Toronto.

I had no choice. It went late.

"I had no choice," close relative of "It's not my fault."

- When one's around, the other's not far. - Back off!

Max has been twiddling his thumbs for an hour.

That's his problem! He can talk. He has a tongue!

He loosens up when you're there.

Do you have his letter of recommendation?

- What letter? - Enough, OK?

Apparently, employers in Sydney are asking for it.

I know, but it's not my fault.

"Not my fault."

Three delivery attempts.

I went all the way to the warehouse, and the package is out for delivery.

I was there!

I want all the secret keepers in the kitchen! Thank you!

Yes! And just to be clear, we're talking about the book The Secret.

Is there a power switch on this yap?

Nope!

OK, so now...

- What are we doing? - Come closer, Matthias!

Yay! We're whispering!

So you'll talk first, give your little speech.

Yes, I'll talk. Then what?

OK, speech, then give him the hoodie first.

'Cause the iPad is more... You know.

After the gifts, berry cake!

OK, but what berries?

Strawberries, raspberries, blueberries...

Which part of berry is unclear? OK, go!

- It was broken. - Come on!

- Excuse me! - No!

Quiet, little boys!

Well, not so little anymore, but still my little boys anyway.

And the lovely Sarah.

My dear Maxime! I know you don't like big speeches.

- No, and yet... - But you don't have a choice.

You're going away. You're leaving us.

For two years.

So Matt prepared a little something.

OK!

Well, I don't want to...

I know you don't like...

I know you don't like speeches, so I'll keep it short and sweet.

I...

Probably should have written something.

Well, yeah!

It's gonna be weird not having you around.

But at the same time...

Christ! How should I put this?

It's gonna be weird not having you around,

but when you come back, things will be different...

with a new type of energy.

And I'm sure...

I'm sure plenty of great new things are waiting for you there...

and that it will be very enriching.

So, that's it!

And we'll miss you.

I think I speak for all of us when I say that.

So, to Max!

Well! Not your most eloquent!

OK, to Max!

To Max!

- Cheers, Max! - Cheers!

To Max!

OK. Gifts!

- What? No! You know I... - Shut up, Max!

It's beautiful!

You know I hate gifts!

It was perfect, as usual. Those sloppy joes...

Anyway, I'll see you before you leave on Wednesday.

No, Friday. I'll come grab the suitcase before.

- Why did I think it was Wednesday? - It's fine.

This... It's too much.

- Come on! - It's too much.

Oh, drop it, you ninny! It was from all of us, by the way!

Thank you.

Max, can you text me Shariff's address for the GPS?

I left my phone in your car.

Did I hear that right? Benjamin Shariff?

No, the late actor Omar Sharif. We're going to his place.

- Yes, Francine, your handsome Shariff. - Couldn't be bothered to drop by!

He's throwing the party. Give him a chance.

Still studying? He'll end up teaching if he keeps it up!

He's a lecturer, now.

There you go! I wasn't born yesterday!

What was his thesis?

- Give him a call, all right? - Don't tempt me! Handsome man like that...

Alain Delon meets Peter Sellers meets a Moroccan.

I've always had a soft spot for Basque men.

Matt's father! Handsome Portuguese man...

Wine connoisseur, loud talker!

OK, guys, I'm gonna say bye.

You're not coming?

- But the handsome Benjamin... - For real, guys, I'm beat.

- I thought you... - Could you not?

Well, you know what I think!

But I told Félix you'd star in his student film.

Fuck off!

It was just a joke! Jesus!

What's the deal? You've known for a while.

It was a long week.

Matt, can I talk to you, please?

Anyway, Max, I'll see you before you go?

- Yeah, no worries. - We'll text?

Look, I'll drive you. Just figure out a way home.

That's not the issue, Sarah.

I'm just not up for it. I'm beat.

Matt, just shut up for two minutes.

It's 7:30! You're not 100 years old.

You took a lawyer out for pasta. You didn't translate War and Peace.

I'll go.

I'll wait in the car.

Bordeaux? I'm on the fucking South Shore!

What the hell are you doing, bozo?

I'm taking off these fancy clothes.

Can't stand it. I just wanted to please Francine.

Tell that to the guy with little dudes on his shirt.

Fuck off! At least I don't dress like a minigolf faggot.

A minigolf faggot?

Frank, go back!

- What, me? - You're Frank, aren't you?

Go back, man! Back.

- Back. That's forward, booby! - The one that goes...

- Jesus! It's one station! - Fuck off, Brass!

One station!

It's the song from the time... Sorry.

When we were caked on shrooms and watched The Barbarian Invasions.

Oh yeah! Off to the cottage for a formal yak on dick-sucking.

12-letter adjective battles and all!

- I'm trying! - We're gonna miss it!

That's the one!

Bridge, bridge, bridge!

At a certain point, you outgrow the jokes and songs.

I'll go tonight, but I just want to spend more time with you,

take some distance from those guys.

Not everyone, but one or two.

That's the plan, clearly!

Should happen pretty naturally.

OK, but...

I know you were with the lawyer, but an hour and 15 minutes?

And I know your mom can be difficult, but you have to understand, Matt.

I don't know if... Norbert is the next one, right?

- Yeah, but it's— - Let me finish, Matt!

That speech you just gave for Max...

Do you think it made anyone happy?

And did it ever occur to you

that Max may have been hurt you didn't want to go tonight?

And I don't... Left on Jean-Béliveau?

- Yeah, but— - It's not just me, myself and I.

But it's not always me, myself and Max, motherfuck!

Why are you saying this now? Am I on trial or something?

It's because of the film, isn't it?

It's because of the fucking film!

That's it, isn't it?

What are you even talking about?

Come on! Erika's piece-of-shit film.

Sarah, it meant nothing to me!

It was just a bet! I didn't even wanna do it!

OK?

So just forget about it, and...

Let's just forget about it.

- Right on Notre-Dame? - Yeah.

Have fun tonight.

Fuck!

OK, fuckers! Shut up while I explain the rules.

Shariff, it's your house, but shut up anyway.

- 10 years of friendship. - Don't care.

Round one: Say anything you want, but no words from the same family.

By "same family,"

I mean "house" and "household," "love" and "lover" and so on.

Round two, one word.

- Brass, you're dead, bitch! - What?

Round three, mime.

No noise, no sounds. Right, Brass?

Mime! Should we do 30 or 45 seconds?

- 30, right? - 45!

45! Calm your nipples!

Ladies and gentlemen, let the games begin!

Runner.

Usain Bolt?

Oh my God, Max! I feel bad for you.

Shut the fuck up! It's my turn!

Rivette! Turn around!

He's talking!

He's talking!

It's my turn! You're making me lose focus!

- Shut up, goddammit! - I'm allowed to talk!

- He gave his clue. - I didn't hear.

I know there's another one. Sorry.

- You won't get it. - Owens. Jess—

Time's up!

It's good! What are you talking about?

Put it back! Too bad!

You didn't say Jesse.

I said Jesse Owens!

- Owens isn't enough of a legend? - Yes!

Rivette, the timer.

Gimme a sec, Jesus.

- Concentrate. - Three, two, one, go!

- Throne. - Game of Thrones.

No talking!

- Jon Snow! - Yes!

Pause it! Rivette, pause it!

What were you telling him, Max?

Me? To Rivette?

Don't play dumb. You were whispering in his ear for ten seconds.

I'm sure you didn't just forget.

He was talking about Jesse Owens.

Yeah? What about him?

Who cares? Our turn is over.

- Guys, we're here to have fun. - I'm not talking to you.

Can I just finish my fucking turn?

Fuck off! Sit down and count to ten. Max?

Jesus!

You OK, Matt?

I'm doing great!

You too, right?

Telling Rivette which word you're gonna use next.

What's your deal?

Go fuck yourself!

- It's fine. - Shit's getting heavy, man!

Your shirt is heavy.

If you'll allow me,

I'm just gonna add ten points to make up for the cheating.

Can we all agree on that? Ten points?

Relax.

I'm very relaxed!

Is ten points too much? Should we do five?

At least three.

What's your fucking problem?

I don't have one! I just don't like cheaters.

Stop! I wasn't cheating, OK?

Drop it! You're acting crazy.

Oh, I'm acting crazy? That's weird, 'cause I feel great!

If you're gonna be like that, go home and deal with your shit.

I'm sorry you don't understand the concept of cheating, Frank.

It's out of your range, intellectually.

Guys, it's a fucking game! Calm down.

Let it go, Frank.

Guys, seriously.

You're making a fool of yourself, Matt.

Just go home.

Look at me! Stop it!

Let go of him!

Fuck off, ink stain.

Fucking game!

- He can go. - Yeah, but is it worth it?

Everyone on the planet went but you.

Jesus! He wants to...

- Who's number one? - Me, fucker!

Where's the frigging lighter?

I don't know, Matt. Is that lighter in my range?

Intellectually?

Frank, for real...

I'm sorry.

For real, I'm sorry.

I'm just fucking with you. Come here! Relax!

It's so touching!

They fight, but they love each other.

You jealous? You want a piece of me, babe?

He's jealous! He told me earlier.

Stop it! Let go of me!

- Let go of me, who? - Let go of me, dickhead!

Let go, douchebag!

Let go, Mr. Francis.

But that's the right answer!

- It's... - Whose turn is it?

Brass, it's your go.

- Come on! - He's hiding jokers in his hand!

- Go, Rivette. - That's good.

Your card is good.

Rivette, come on!

- It's good, 'cause after— - Just go.

Go watch TV in the living room or something.

I can't focus with you breathing down my neck.

- Rivette, drop it. - Go, Matt.

- No. Well, yes and no. - Go! Play!

Fucking idiot! Go, man!

- It's a seven. Not that hard. - Go, goddammit!

What?

Nothing.

Stop it!

...your mother's sauce.

Don't talk about my mother's sauce in that tone.

But it's so good.

I knew it!

Friends should never discuss religion, money or their mothers,

especially not their sauce.

- Whose turn is it? - Don't laugh!

You wouldn't like it if I talked about your mother's sauce.

Your mother's sauce is so good!

Stop!

I don't get it.

This isn't us.

Fuck!

I won't go on Friday.

I was supposed to leave Friday, but I'll leave on Sunday.

Fuck Boston!

I want us to spend the weekend together.

I want us to talk. We have to talk.

I want to understand.

ONE DAY TO DEPARTURE

- Hi, Max! - Hi!

You're wearing the nice sweater I got you!

- Look at all this junk! - The one at the top?

Yeah, hang on.

Good Lord! Hang on a minute.

I'll just put this back.

OK! We got our workout for the day.

It's perfect, Francine. Thank you so much.

Of course! Don't be silly!

OK, well, listen...

- Well... - I...

Stay a bit? For some iced tea.

Although it's not really the season anymore.

- It's getting cooler! - Yeah.

I have to work later, so...

How about a nice glass of water?

Do you drink enough water, Max?

Do you like water?

Of course you do!

Francine, would you mind giving me the...

Thank you. The number for your ex? Ronaldo's number?

I need a letter of recommendation.

Of course!

I asked Matt to ask Mr. Ruiz to write me a letter of recommendation

for the summer I worked for him.

Yes. And Matt...

He asked his father, didn't he?

Yes.

Well, I reminded him a couple times, but it didn't seem to...

I know he asked him, and he was waiting for the letter.

I'll find it for you.

Should be in here.

Hang on a minute. Ronaldo!

OK, hang on.

Me and my small writing!

Did you ask Matt again?

Must be downstairs. Hang on a minute.

Thanks, Francine!

M AND M'S FARM

MATT AND MAX'S FARM MATTHIAS, 7 YEARS OLD

Goddammit.

The condo association never consulted my client...

You're going to Australia?

Yeah.

Jesus Christ!

Nice beaches, but they won't understand an effing word you're saying!

Look...

You don't know that.

Yep. I finished the cleaning.

Just gotta zip up my suitcase.

I'll run out for some coffees, then we'll head to the airport?

Jesus!