Original subtitles

THE WOLBERG FAMILY

Hello, Mrs Hagen-Stein.

It was too sweet last time I made it.

You said it needed vanilla.

Yes, I was going to forget.

It's milder today.

I hate the change of season.

I like it. I find it a bit melancholic.

I won't spend another summer in this town anyhow.

I've been living in this house for 17 years!

Where would you like to go?

Abroad.

Where abroad?

I haven't decided,

but Italy sounds appealing.

Yes, Italy is beautiful!

The country where you met Dad.

No, not that story again!

Go away if you don't want hear it.

All right. It happened on a train back from Italy

where I had really gone wild.

I was crying

because I had left my boyfriend behind.

You thought you'd never see him again?

I knew it would be a long time. He lived in Naples, me in Blagnac.

I was crying like a baby.

Opposite me, there was a gentleman,

alone on the bench seat.

Was he handsome?

I don't know if he was handsome but he was very well dressed.

In a smart, black suit

and a buttoned shirt.

He was already elegant.

Suddenly, he looked at me and said,

"Can't you stop snivelling?"

Pretty direct!

Yes, but it worked.

I looked at him and he said,

"You're pretty when you snivel but pretty when you don't."

We were in the country.

He was paying me no attention

and I was pretending to sleep.

Suddenly, he pulled the emergency brake.

The train stopped right there.

Everything froze, as before a disaster.

Simon got off the train.

He walked off into the fields. And came back with a poppy.

You're forgetting something.

The poppy was withered.

Yes, that's true.

In any case,

he handed me the poppy with a look...

How can I put it?

- An intense look. - An intense look?

Yes.

Like this.

Mr Mayor, we're honoured by your presence here.

Thank you, dear. What a sweet surprise.

Thank you anyhow.

Thank you very much.

Please, Francois...

I'm particularly keen on this speech.

Maxine Brown was a young black woman, born in 1945

in the city of Seattle.

Her life was hard,

marked by poverty, misfortune and tension.

Raised in a family of 10 children,

she didn't eat every day,

at least not her fill.

At 10, she ran away from home.

Luckily,

she was taken in by a nun who made her sing hymns every day.

She thus acquired a wonderful voice.

She could have ended up on the streets,

selling her body,

hooked on drugs...

But no.

Luck came her way again.

She met

what I call a genius of a producer,

someone who believed in her

and who got her to record

around ten heartbreaking singles.

At 25,

she came to a tragic end.

She died alone, in agony, of tuberculosis.

They say that Maxine Brown never knew love.

So you, the children of Mourenx, I hope that you will be worthy

of your country and of what it's done for you.

And that you will all serve France

the way Maxine Brown served the USA.

Ladies and gentlemen...

My favourite fellow citizens are here!

Is that it?

Had a good look? No changes since last time?

Changed the curtains?

In 20 years they'd turned yellow.

We had them in Antwerp.

They looked better before.

I've brought you fruit and vegetables.

You can make a bit of soup. Or a bit of stewed fruit.

How's Marianne? Still beautiful?

Come to the house more often and you'd see.

I'm too old to go out.

Old people, always fussing.

Simon, you're being coarse.

I'm old too.

True, you've always been old.

Anything to tell me?

No, nothing at all.

Your mother could get you to talk.

I told her what she wanted to hear

so she wouldn't worry.

Think it helped her to bear death's approach?

I think so.

The shrubs are in a bad state.

You need them pruned.

She's seeing to it.

Who's she?

Sarah.

Your latest conquest?

You haven't given her diamonds?

Where do you get your coarseness?

From my grandparents.

Fat, Jewish hicks lurking in Antwerp,

nowhere as refined as you.

Those "fat, Jewish hicks"...

I knew them better then you.

They weren't coarse, they were desperate.

I hope it'll never happen to you.

She's not only young,

she's also very funny and cheeky.

I don't like funny women.

They're anti-sexy.

And stop smoking.

She knows about Mum?

She knows I'm a widower.

But my story with your mother

concerns only me.

No, I don't agree.

No, leave them closed.

The neighbours will think we're hiding something.

What could we hide?

I don't know.

A hideous crime.

We killed our two children?

Why would we do that?

To get some peace.

To be alone together.

You're mad.

No, something else.

I killed your lover.

Why would you do that?

Because you made love together.

What about me?

Why kill you?

Because of the memories.

I'll always remember how I made love with him.

You're mad.

No...

- Why not? - Come here.

Let the whole town know we made love.

There's nothing scandalous about making love.

There is.

Love is a scandal.

Especially in the afternoon,

mid-week in a family home,

following a depressing meeting,

making the most of the kids' absence

and the fact that everyone is at work.

I'd rather make love with my wife.

What music this evening?

Mum's favourite music.

No! This sad song again?

I love sad things. sweetheart.

That glimmer of gold in his voice...

- Alexandre, I'm happy you're here. - Me too!

Why?

You think your uncle has the scent of...

- existence, is that it? - Exactly.

Life is so humdrum.

Why do rebels use such conventional terms?

I wouldn't say that exactly, but it is stifling here.

You left home at an early age.

But I feel good everywhere.

- I'm sick of it. - You don't know your luck.

What luck is that?

Of having a dark, Jewish father.

The opposite being?

Terrible luck and a blond father.

I'd like to try one day.

What a spread!

We've done you a Polish dinner.

I'm starving.

- Dig in. - So what else is new?

Give me your plate, dear.

Go ahead, Alexandre...

Gorge yourself. Enjoy the meal.

Dad, a blond father would never talk like that.

I'll play the blond father. You'll see how lucky you are.

Seen what Dad's going? Huh, son?

Delphine, some vegetables.

Alexandre, why did you leave home?

Since you're a blond father, I'll speak my mind.

I didn't love my parents.

But you love your sister?

I adore Marianne.

That makes two of us.

What about you, Delphine?

Could you imagine leaving the family unit?

I hope it'll happen, yes!

Would you do it independently or for someone else?

Be more specific, blond father.

Could you imagine leaving your family

for a man you love more than your parents?

Of course.

Expand on that.

Don't be afraid, Miss Wolberg.

Love is more important.

But, Delphine, you're not answering my question.

Family isn't sexy.

What you're saying is we should

walk around here in our underwear?

- Yuck! - Right.

That's not it!

- You know what she means. - I don't.

Not at all.

Desire and family life don't always get along.

I don't understand a word.

Me neither.

Here for my party?

What's this about a party?

My birthday's 3 weeks away.

You're going to be 18?

Incredible!

But usually you don't celebrate.

Precisely.

This time

it won't be like usual.

It'll be really special.

Really special?

Something exceptional.

Actually, I'd really like it

to be a culmination of all our lives...

and...

a moment to be engraved in our hearts and in marble.

"Engraved in our hearts and in marble".

Sure. Why not?

Hello, Mr Richard.

I didn't call you, Mr Mayor.

Your children aren't attending school. That's serious.

When's the social worker coming?

My wife, Marianne Wolberg, will handle you.

Every two weeks at first,

then we'll take it from here.

Could we possibly see your wife?

- She's not here. - We can wait.

No, you can't wait.

- Maybe later this week? - Sure, later this week.

My diary, please.

How about Thursday or Friday?

I don't know.

Go back to your room, children.

My wife won't be back.

She walked out last week.

She left a letter. I'll read it.

- I'd rather you didn't. - "Stephane...

"I can't go on.

"You won't let me live.

"I feel I'm suffocating.

"I tried to warn you but you wouldn't listen.

"Think of our two sons.

"Take good care of them.

"I'll come back to see them.

"Catherine".

I'm sorry.

Think she's with a man?

I've no idea.

That letter calls for a reply.

You must answer it.

But I don't know how to write to her.

Well, the time has come

to show her you can bounce back,

that you want her, desire her... that you won't give in...

Be innovative.

You have to convince her now.

Tell her things you've never told her before.

Tell her you miss her terribly...

The children too...

No, keep them out of it.

I think you've reached a point of no return

and must use what you can.

I love my children too.

Try it if you want.

I'm scared I'll break it.

It's not that fragile.

Here, take it.

Want me to teach you a chord?

You duped me?

You fooled me? Does your dad know?

No, he wouldn't be pleased.

I can't be a Bohemian like you.

Why do you hate each other?

I don't know. It's hard to say.

Water and fire?

I hate everything Simon represents and it's mutual.

Dad says Bohemians aren't on the right side of life.

What is the right side of life?

Look.

Some people are in the real world.

And others aren't in the real world.

The fun thing isn't being on one side or the other

but going from one to the other. Watch.

It's tiring.

Keep going.

It's tiring but it's the best way.

You're strong, you can keep going,

but I've had enough. I want to stop.

Which side do I go on?

Pick the real world.

And you?

I'm never quite in the real world.

A bit out of it?

A bit out of it...

Like a shy man at a football game.

"Simon Wolberg, a life's energy for your town".

- You came up with that? - No, but it works.

How can you motivate yourself to do this?

You owe your mayor the childhood you had, remember.

What a joke!

Delphine, we're short-handed. Won't you help us out?

Being Delphine Wolberg doesn't mean I'll toil for my father.

Your father's amazing.

You should make more of him.

Well?

Francois, why aren't you like us?

Why don't you have fun? Go out with girls?

You're a little fool.

You've got a nerve.

I worry you'll meet the wrong people.

The wrong people?

I worry you'll be broke and sick with no one to help you.

I have friends everywhere. Don't worry about it.

A woman in every port?

More or less. A nice girl in every town.

- Who is she here? - Camille.

- Remember her? - From school?

Yes, she was pretty but totally inaccessible.

She didn't want you back then.

True. But you know people can change.

I'm not here for Camille.

You're not?

You're not happy, Marianne.

Rubbish.

I know you by heart. I know you're not happy.

I'm not here for Benjamin or Delphine.

Nor for Camille's pretty eyes.

Leave Simon.

None of you knows what's in my heart.

Already here?

You're early.

Only ten minutes.

Dom Perignon 73.

Last year, you got the 75 vintage. It was excellent.

I really pestered the wine merchant.

I even said I was the mayor's father. But he had sold out.

Right...

Ready?

Go on, you start.

Rose, my darling,

it's been a quite year.

A lot of trouble with the house. The roof caved in

and it cost me a fortune to mend it.

Tamara Telkech died last autumn.

She had Alzheimer's.

She thought I was the great rabbi of Czestochowa.

She asked me where her friend Rose was.

She kept lecturing me,

saying I led a bad life.

What else?

I've put on five kilos and can't lose them.

Join Weight Watchers.

- What? - Weight Watchers.

You go to meetings and share ideas about weight.

As if I cared about that!

I've lost a lot of hair.

It's a pity. I looked better before.

What about Sarah?

Tell Rose about Sarah.

Yes, I've met a woman called Sarah.

She's not like us.

She's young and very cheeky.

She's impolite, that's all.

Simon, we're not alike.

Come on, let's go.

Mum, I've had a great year.

Unlike Dad,

I haven't put on weight or lost hair.

But I'm no better looking.

I've worked like crazy.

I've done a lot for the town to modernize it

and link it to the outside world.

Marianne is still as beautiful.

The children are well.

I had the house repainted.

Is all that true?

Yes.

And I plan to do a lot more next year.

For Marianne, for the town,

for the children.

Dad will tell you next year.

Why me?

Slip of the tongue.

You know, Simon,

parents die before their children.

Let's drink.

For you, Rose.

You're going too far!

Mr Mayor,

you promised last year you wouldn't bring champagne again.

Forgive me, but it's a tradition. We can't just give it up.

But this is a religious setting!

Mum...

I'm very sick.

Why are you here?

I knew you'd come.

How did you know that?

A sentimental men seeking a spot for a sentimental party.

It could only be the nightclub of your youth.

- Have you got a cigarette? - Here.

Thanks.

I'd never been here before.

It has its charming side.

A change from my travels.

For me, it's...

it's the most romantic place in town.

This is where everyone comes to dream,

fondle and kiss.

I never come, of course, because

I work.

What do you do when you're away?

What do you mean?

Well, I mean...

How do you spend the time?

I walk a lot. I watch people. I sit where I can. I eat outdoors.

Sometimes, people offer me hospitality but it's rare.

How do you stand the loneliness, the fact of being alone?

I like being alone.

So what do you do all day?

Me?

I work. What are you talking about?

You work but,

deep down, what do you do?

Deep down?

Deep down, I...

I worry.

I worry and I console.

If you didn't have this,

the town, the Wolberg family...

What would you do?

My thing is the sea.

I gave up...

sailing right after I met Marianne.

That was that.

That's a pity. You should have kept it up.

Then again,

a poor little Jewish lone yachtsman,

teaching the fish about the Shoah...

Know what SS drivers said on the way to Auschwitz?

No.

Step on the gas.

Step on the gas.

I'm out of gas, Alexandre.

I don't understand a word of this.

- Where are we going? - Come on, don't worry.

I'm Simon Wolberg, your mayor.

Yes, I know who you are.

You're canvassing?

Exactly.

As you know, the elections are coming up.

Yes, I know.

With all these posters, it would be hard not to know.

"Simon Wolberg, a life's energy..."

Exactly.

It sounds good.

I'm going round visiting people...

Testing the waters, as they say.

May we come in?

Yes, please do.

Are you interested in urban management?

No, I work all day long.

Politics don't interest me.

So what does interest you?

My private life.

Do you have a wife? A partner?

No.

Any children?

No again.

A family would change things.

You couldn't be like this.

Like what?

So nonchalant, so unconcerned...

You have a Bohemian side...

You're self-centred, huh?

You don't really care about people around you.

Caring about myself is enough.

That's obvious.

Where's the bedroom?

Upstairs.

What are you doing?

As your mayor, I have a right to see your bedroom.

A room of limited dimensions

clearly bearing witness

to a petty life.

Bastard!

Bastard!

It's Mum's song.

I did it.

What?

Just wait till I tell Simon.

Benjamin, look at me.

Look at me!

Dad will be pleased.

I saw the blond man.

What?

You and your sister will always be my children.

I'll never abandon you.

Your father and I

have a world apart from you. We all have our private world.

You have your private world too

that no one can enter.

Dad says the family includes everyone, the whole world

and that it's not sad, it's happy.

Sweetheart...

You bastard.

That was a sick thing to do.

How could you involve Benjamin?

An unlucky chain of events.

You're mad!

What I did isn't sick.

You taking him with you is!

Where's your usual restraint?

It was just an accident, ok.

I'll make sure he forgets it.

I bet he's stopped thinking about it.

He's thinking about it and it'll haunt him.

We're a family. Shouldn't we know all about each other?

I'm allowed secrets of my own and so are my children!

So Benjamin and Delphine have secrets too?

Delphine pinched an eraser and Benjamin

is going to be impolite?

You're so coarse.

We have the right to know

all about each other.

Even if the truth is hard to take.

That's what makes us

a family unit.

I'll keep helping my children until the day I die.

I know that and you know it too.

You shouldn't have gone to see Daniel.

He's not Daniel. He's the Blond.

I have every right over him,

even the right to kill him.

You'll go to jail

and we'll stay right here.

- You won't try go get me out? - No.

You'll get what you deserve.

You'll stay in jail, period.

You know that's not true.

And you know you kill me by saying it.

Why did you want to leave us?

I was unhappy, that's all.

I forbid you to see Daniel again!

He nearly went mad when I said it was over.

Just leave him alone now.

Screw his suffering.

You hear me? Screw it.

Be careful, Simon.

Be very careful!

You see, since last time,

this nodule on the lungs

has grown.

It had regressed for a while...

Now it's progressing.

You must take other tests and start treatment. It's serious.

Shall I go over the medical protocol again?

No, I don't bother, I know it.

There's something else that can't wait.

You have to tell your family.

You must let them know.

At least tell Marianne.

Your wife needs to know.

Will I be in shape for Delphine's party?

For Delphine's party, yes.

I see

something grandiose,

something Olympian

to pay tribute to the grandeur of youth.

You can't mock your father like that!

You never had a father, so you can't understand.

You're running on fine sand from eastern Africa.

Sand as fine as gold

and as soft as the hair of my wife,

Marianne.

For the stands, I see blue velvet armchairs.

- Hooligans will slit them. - In my stadium,

we shall deal with hooligans.

- How? - We'll decapitate them.

Instead, we'll have gentlemen.

Perfect gentlemen

for young people must be the officiants of beauty.

Young people must not only be the officiants of beauty,

they must live too

and receive all the calm beauty

of life with its occasional violence.

They must grow undisturbed

to allow their full scope to burst forth as adults.

And, above all,

they must let their parents pamper them.

In 2000, in mid-April, remember what happened?

April 2000...

No, it's a blank. How can I remember?

We won the swimming contest together.

I remember everything we've done together.

It's all in here.

You really remember everything?

You're too nostalgic.

You need to forget all that.

That's the dumbest thing I ever heard.

Delphine, I love you.

That's not possible, Francois.

It can't work that way.

Young yet nostalgic. My darling little boy.

Don't call me that.

Why do you come here?

To where you used to play?

Because.

Mr Richard's children told me you walk around looking "weird".

Weird?

Sweetheart, you're happy, aren't you?

Are you happy?

It's funny, all this graffiti.

"Ger lost, fat skank".

"Jessica and Pascal, drop the attitude".

"Piss off, you old farts".

"I love you but you make me suffer".

Benjamin, could you wait over there, please?

Mr and Mrs Wolberg, I asked you here to talk about Benjamin,

a boy I know well...

- Can we go to the gym? - Yes, go on.

So Benjamin, a little boy who is usually a bit of a dreamer,

very contemplative and calm, who never causes any trouble,

has been a bit irritable and unpleasant lately.

I'm rather worried.

- Miss, do we have swimming tomorrow? - Yes.

I've talked to him

but he won't answer me.

We've had a few family problems. Private problems.

Yes, but they'll soon blow over.

We'll get back to normal.

- Well, he needs... - Why did you send me this?

It's a reply to your wife's letter.

I wrote it for you.

Dad!

"Simon Wolberg, out of gas". Signed, Alexandre

- You'd better not break it. - Just go!

Get lost!

- Because of the posters? - Get out of here!

Didn't you like it?

Get lost!

Don't do this, please.

Why did you do it?

Well...

Goodbye, everybody.

Delphine, have a great birthday.

Be happy, little niece.

Benjamin, you can have it.

With a broken arm, I can't play.

- I'm sick of it! - What?

What did Alexandre do to you? Who do you think you are? God?

No wonder Benjamin's screwing up.

That's rubbish.

I'm not God, that's true.

You're my gods, my sweethearts.

As babies, in dirty nappies, were we gods too?

Yes.

When I changed you at 3 a.m., you were gods.

Gods in nappies but gods.

Why didn't you let Mum leave with Daniel?

Maybe she'd have been happy.

How did you know?

I just know.

It makes me sad but I understand. Or at least I think I do.

We don't want this, Dad.

It can't go on.

It's absolutely unbearable living with you!

You have to change now. You have to!

Why are you all betraying me?

Delphine, you're an idiot.

And you, Marianne, you're...

You're two idiots.

Nothing to say, Benjamin?

You introduce yourself each time?

I knew you'd come back.

- Can I come in? - No, you'll dirty my house.

If there has to be a scandal, everyone should know. Come on.

It would be a shame to deprive people of the best show of the year.

Go ahead.

- What? - Go ahead, slap my face.

I don't want to wait 10 years.

I don't want to expect a beating each time I come out.

It hurts less than you think.

What I hate about you blonds

is your perpetual poise. Your obsession with poise.

This elegance in every situation,

in snow, rain or a storm.

Your impeccable hair...

Your ironic quips.

That shitty irony.

You lose.

Poise or Marianne?

Marianne.

You don't even exist, you're so blond,

you look like a china cherub.

Genderless.

You're like a chick with your yellow hair.

I bet you stink of eggshell.

Your wife has beautiful breasts.

Her breasts don't remember you.

My hands do.

Your shitty little hands

with your dainty fingers.

If Marianne was here, she'd hate you.

You think I stole her?

She doesn't belong to anyone,

not to me, nor to her kids, nor to this town.

I didn't come to beat you up.

I came to find out what Marianne was like with you.

She laughed a lot.

She would laugh over nothing.

She has a beautiful laugh.

A very warm laugh.

A sonorous, throaty laugh.

It makes her

even bigger and more luscious.

When she laughs, her eyes squeeze shut.

It's magnificent.

She talked about you,

the whole family.

She would say

that you were her darlings,

her eternal loves...

Benjamin would be a lady killer

and Delphine a petulant young woman.

They'd be very popular.

Even if,

for now, they couldn't care less.

I was her Blond Wager.

I laughed when she told me

but I see now

it was addressed to you.

She called you "Mr Golden Sparkle with Silver Hair".

That's all.

She'll leave, you know.

I know.

Do you know when?

Why? Do you know when?

It was just a rehearsal with me.

A conclusive rehearsal.

She saw it was possible,

that she could manage without you. She'll do it again.

A successful rehearsal?

I proved to her it could be done.

That she could live without you.

It's weird.

They seem to have aged a lot lately.

She has lines around her eyes.

What's worrying them?

Delphine's birthday.

These idiots think too, you know!

How will they be in 10 years?

They're still beautiful.

They're sensual and gentle too.

A bit like a sad intoxication.

As if you drank too much,

not to excess, just enough to feel yourself drift off

and just too much to feel yourself weaken.

I've never heard you talk like that.

A sad intoxication...

It's a definition of love.

No, love is much more violent, isn't it?

Yes, love is more violent.

Marianne,

how long is it since your last period?

- You checked my panties? - No.

But when you had your period, you were different.

Don't say I had menstrual stress.

No, but when you had your period,

you were accessible.

I loved that.

As if bleeding opened you up to me.

You haven't been like that for months.

You can't have children now.

I know that.

I didn't want to tell you because it hurt me somehow.

It hurt to know I couldn't have babies anymore.

You're much more sensual now.

You're free of a burden.

What do you mean?

When we make love now, we think about the two of us.

We do it for us.

I loved making love thinking it could make a baby.

I've loved making love with you.

What's that? The ghost of you as a girl?

No, Delphine's dress for her party.

Simon, did you hear what Delphine told you?

Yes.

What do you plan to do?

I love you, Marianne.

A tequila sunrise.

I love them.

When I start drinking them, I can't stop.

No tequila for you then!

When I told her she was beautiful, she avoided me for a week.

Nothing to say, Maurice?

Sorry, I was thinking.

- It's great. - Beautiful.

Really nice.

I love the cake!

My dear granddaughter,

you wanted the best birthday party of your life.

I don't know a lot about young girls of 18.

But I remembered your grandmother, Rose.

When she was 18, she received a gift

that, for her, was the most beautiful one ever.

I'm talking about a ring

that I gave to her.

And that ring...

I'm giving it to you now from your grandmother

and from me.

So, Delphine,

be beautiful and proud.

Thank you, Joseph.

My turn now.

What are you doing? I thought I'd given this shirt away.

Hush, it's none of your business.

I remember it well.

It was in Biarritz, August 2003.

You were six and I was 13.

The broken shell,

the crab and the sunbeam.

You wore that shirt.

I'll never forget that day. Neither will you.

The broken shell, the crab and the sunbeam.

I put this on for you

so you'll remember and so things will go on like before.

Don't worry, Benjamin.

I'll always be at your side. I promise.

Ok, you champions?

Forget the athletes' diet tonight.

On the orders of your mayor.

And leave the competitive spirit in the locker room.

Dig in!

My old friends! How are you?

Good, and you?

Nice shirt, Jacques.

Brilliant.

Jacky, glad you could make it.

Delphine will be pleased.

How are you, Thomas?

Help yourself.

Dad, you're very handsome.

And you, miss...

you have a beautiful top.

Are you scared?

Yes, a little.

Come on.

This is Philippe.

Good evening, Philippe.

Delphine, you secretive little madam.

- Are you local? - No, I'm from Lille.

And you've come for my daughter's party?

That's very kind.

Delphine never mentioned you so I was curious.

You never mentioned us?

No, never.

- Marianne, want to dance? - Yes.

Simon must look after himself.

Marianne, Simon is sick.

He has lung cancer.

Excuse me.

Can you put Delphine's favourite on?

All right. First of all, my daughter Delphine,

my little darling, your present.

For years, your mother and I

refused to buy you something

and we realised

that maybe we were wrong. So this is for you.

You have to promise me something, pal.

Never pee on my records.

If you do, you'll be in serious trouble.

Go and meet your new owner.

Wilhelmina-Delphine,

I'm calling you that because you love German philosophers

and their damned existence.

So Wilhelmina-Delphine.

When you were born,

after holding you in my arms,

the first thing I did

was to put a hat on your head,

then a second hat...

before adding a blanket.

You walked very late, not until you were two.

It wasn't your fault.

As soon as you tried to stand, I would rush over to catch you.

At the age of eight,

you wanted to go paragliding.

You never went.

I explained that the sky was full of huge winged creatures

that devoured little girls.

At the age of twelve,

you wanted to go to England

to perfect your English

as your beloved language teacher,

Miss Richardson, said.

And I convinced you that the English

were refined perverts.

You've never set foot in England.

At fifteen, sweetheart, you wanted to smoke.

I got you a carton of Gitanes

and told you to smoke them

as quickly as possible.

You did that and you've never smoked since.

Or so I thought.

Today, you're 18.

Today, you're 18.

I could say, now you can walk on your own.

You can go paragliding.

You can go to England. You can smoke.

But I won't say it because something is more important.

Tonight, I forbid you to do something for the last time.

Delphine-Wilhelmina,

I forbid you one last thing.

I forbid you to die.

Do you hear me? I forbid you to die!

I'm sorry.

Simon...

Taking him with you?

You know I'm leaving?

It wasn't a birthday, it was a farewell.

Where are you going?

To Lille.

With Philippe.

Will we see you again?

Of course you will.

I'm just a girl of 18 who's leaving home.

It's no big deal.

It means a lot for me.

I know, Dad.

Have a beautiful life, sweetheart.

Take care of Benjamin...

Dad, why would I need to?

You're invincible.

What are you doing here?

I'm leaving too.

Where are you going?

- How about you? - Naples.

- Is it beautiful? - Very.

You quit your job?

Yes.

You let Simon know?

I sent him a letter. He'll get it tomorrow.

It'll come as a shock. Still, he'll get over it.

"Simon Wolberg, a life's energy!"

What a crap slogan!

You don't like him much.

Why did you do it?

I like Simon, actually.

He's a pain but we have a good laugh.

I just hope he'll have changed a bit when I come back next year.

Why are you crying?

Not because of what I said?

No.

It's because of Delphine.

I understand.

"Nothing resembles itself in this world of uncertainty.

"The only thing certain is the existence of a secret violence

"that upsets everything".