All language subtitles for A.Heavenly.Vintage.2009 4_English

(Birdsong)

(Ragged breathing)

(Birdsong)

(Man breath es raggedly)

(Woman chuckles)

(Moans)

You're an animal!

But, papa, I want to marry her.

You will not.
Her father was mad as a dog.

(Drink pours)

The chateau wine not good enough
for you, jodeau?

We can do better.

Have you ever had better?

A bottle of the reserve
for our young friend.

Let's see if it
meets with his approval.

(Cork pops)

(Wine pours)

How does it taste? Common.

Like a pretty girl in a vulgar dress.

(Chortles)

(Others laugh)

Mmm. Mm. I could learn.

To gamble.

To be your chief winemaker.

(All laugh)

You slept.

No, not a faint.
You were properly asleep.

You're drunk.

My father refuses to let me marry.

Why is that?

Her father was mad.

Barked like a dog.

At the moon,
or at people he didn't like?

(Chuckles) What's her name?

Celeste.

Yours?

Our grapes.

We sell them to the chateau.

It could be better.

It's a peasant's drink.
And nothing more.

The land's ours.
But the chateau still controls it.

We should be making our own wine.

You should plant higher,
all along this Ridge.

We've tried. Nothing grows.

Meet me back here in a year.

Am I going to die?

I hope not.

I've something for you and I want
to know what happens with Celeste.

But don't you know
everything already?

How could I know
what hasn't happened yet?

Tell her how you feel.

And on this night next year,

maybe we'll toast your marriage.

(Blows)

(Thinks) “Dear Celeste,

“I write to you in the hope
that you might know me better

“and that you will
allow me to know you.

“Because to know you,

“every part of you,

“is all I desire.”

(Pig squeals)

(Cow moos)

Man: Facta sustentationi
nostrae tradita sunt,

respice, quaesumus,
humilitatem nostram,

et sicut nostris iaboribus
et iargiri digneris,

ut cum gratiarum actione

nomen sanctum tuum iaudetur
et glorificetur.

Qui vivis et regnas cum deo patre.

In nomine patris
et filii et spiritus sancti. Amen.

(Dog pants)

A sorcerer charmed my father
before he died.

Gave him the dog's voice.

Woof! Woof! (Laughs) (Laughs)

And the dog?

He never barked again.

Was anybody else afflicted?

How could they be?
The sorcerer has gone now.

(Celeste moans)

(Dog barks)

Sobran, he speaks.

(Barks)

You smell like snow.

High altitudes.

So? Are we celebrating?

Twice.

I'm married. And she's pregnant.

And I planted some vines.

But look.

It's possible, I tell you.

What is this?

Made by Italian monks.

Grown on a Ridge exactly like this.

I can taste it.

Heat. Chalk.

You're tasting the place —
What grows there, the animals there,

it's in the wine,
but it starts with the soil.

Try it.

That's what they do.

The monks, they eat the dirt?

They do. Every few paces.

Try it.

(Eats and spits)

Chalk.

Now try over there.

It's different here.

Metal, copper.

Think about the tastes you want
and add them to the earth.

But the soil is no good.
You don't need rich soil.

Not for grapes.

Poor soil means minerals, stone,
taste, flavour.

But the plant
will have to fight for it,

struggle to get what it needs.

And it's that effort and yours that will
show in the character of the wine.

Try these.

They're from my garden.

They don't look like much,

but they do seem to thrive
in difficult places.

How long will it take?

To make a great wine?

Might take a lifetime.

I have a proposition for you.

A meeting, here, one night a year
for the rest of your life.

The rest of my life?

Is it bad luck to fail you?

I'm not trying to sell you
a sick pig, sobran.

If I bargain like a peasant,
it's because I am one.

Only because you think like one.

That can change if you're willing.

You want to make a great wine,

a wine that's yours.

A wine that's never been tasted.

See? You have the desire.
And the land.

And now you have the plants.

And I have you.

That's true.

But I know nothing
about luck, sobran.

And I'm not offering rewards
or punishments, so don't promise.

Just come.

(Bell peals)

(Children giggle)

Monsieur.

Monsieur.

We're picking too soon.

If you want to wait,

go back to those miserable vines
you put on the Ridge.

That should satisfy.

Taste them. They're not ready.

The sky is clear.

Just taste them.

The seeds are still bitter.

Even one more day
will make a difference.

Or I could lose the whole crop.

Leave my slope then.

I'll take the risk.

And your father? What will he do
for bread if you are wrong?

I've known that Ridge
longer than you, my friend.

I admire your spirit.
But I won't ruin your father.

Pick the jodeau slope.

(Fife and drums play)

Man: Come with us.
Join the army. France needs you.

(Men converse in French)

(Snores)

(Pants)

(Moans)

(Continues snoring)

Now it rains.

I could have waited a week.

Two weeks.

You couldn't be sure.

No, I was sure.

And I was right.

If you think like a peasant,
you will stay one, Celeste.

I want more for us.

All we need is some money
to make our start.

Napoleon will give us our chance.

Don't worry.

I'll be back before this one's born.

God's luck is on my side.

(Drummer approaches)

Papa!

(Horse whinnies)

(Gunfire, horse whinnies)

(Explosion in the distance)

(Explosion in the distance)

It's gone bad.

(Wind howls)

Help me.

Arggh!

(Dog barks)

Sabine. It's your father.

(Dog barks)

(Sabine whimpers)

Where is papa?

Where were you?

I was here, as we'd agreed.

Why didn't you tell me not to go?

Would that have made a difference?
You're supposed to protect me.

You spoke as if you knew
what was best for me.

Has what's happened
not been for the best?

My father died in these vines.

Killed him,

tending this land and the chateau.

Celeste tried, but...

Why didn't you help them?

Your father would have died
with you as without you.

Celeste accepted your wish to leave.

She didn't expect my protection.

Why would she? Why would you?

Because you're an angel!

If you don't protect me,
then why are you here?

I wonder how it is. It all depends.

How it travels. How it's kept.

This one waited two years.

Could be better, could be worse.

Time's done you a favour.

Now show me your best.

I want to know everything
about sobran jodeau.

Anything you want to tell me.

(Kisses)

Her name is Nicolette.

She's all my joy since the war.

(Nicolette gurgles)

Try it.

I can taste it, the maker.

Interesting man. Palestinian.

Ferments his wine in Clay jars.

No, not just that.

Him. How he lives.

How he thinks.
How he cooks for his children.

His life in the wine.

And his risk.

Would you have me
protect you from that?

Would you want that for her?

To protect her from harm.

From hurt.

Of course I want that.

Did my father feel that
when I marched away?

When he died not knowing
whether I was dead or alive?

I prayed he didn't.

Whatever he felt,
he let you choose.

It's in your hands, sobran.

The life you live,

the wine you make.

I won't miss another meeting.

And build a cellar.
You're going to need one.

(Laughs)

Madame, I am here
to speak with your husband.

Well...

Perhaps when he's free,

could you ask him
to come and see me?

Ah, jodeau.

There you are.

(Clears throat)

Are you ready to talk business?

My grapes are not for sale.

I'm making my own wine.

Once you taste it,
you won't doubt me again.

Come the day, jodeau,
I'll gladly share a glass with you.

I only hope I will live to see it.

(Both giggle)

But we've no money.

Not now.

But soon we will.

We will.

(Dog barks)

(Birdsong)

Our first vintage.

I taste conception.

(Both chuckle)

A son, with any luck.

The first of many, I'm sure.

It's good.

(Bleats)

Taste it. It's ours. The 1815.

(Chicken clucks)

Sobran, no!
Don't you want to be successful?

Fine clothes for that beautiful body?

Huh?

But what are we supposed to eat?

We spent everything on the cellar.

And the cellar will profit.
I promise.

(Nicolette gurgles)

(Goat bleats)

Hey, Nicolette.

Oh. (Grunts)

(Chuckles)

What do you taste? Hmm?

Hup.

Hup.

(Snorts)

(Horse whinnies)

Careful!

(Nicolette cries)

I missed you so much.

My niece.

Baroness Aurora valday.

His father was one of my workers.

Although he is my competitor,
it would seem.

Taste it now.

Then again in six months.

A gift for you, baroness.

(Aurora chuckles)

Bored already? I never should have
let you study in Paris.

It was a convent, uncle,
hardly a temple of higher learning.

Not that it stopped you. Come.

Let's toast this new-fashioned
knowledge of yours.

T'aetee like dirt.

You have to be patient
with wine, Aurora.

And with people.

Is he an important man in aluze?

Why? Have you taken
a dislike to him?

I'm sure I don't feel the need
to go so far as forming a dislike.

He's what passes for
a man of substance round here.

If you're going to inherit
the estate,

you'd do well to cultivate
a relationship with jodeau.

'If' I'm to inherit the estate?

My dear, am I mistaken?

I thought you had no intention
of marrying again.

Dearest girl,
I know you'll miss him,

but a man is not
all there is to love.

Maybe you'll be happy here.

(Nicolette cries)

Have you heard from the Marquis?

You know I haven't.

You're warm.

(Celeste cries) I'm hungry.

But maybe the children
would like to eat dirt.

Give them mine.

(Other children cry)

Fetch the priest.

Priest: Nicoletta,
ego baptiso te in nomine patris

et filii et spiritus sancti.

Amen.

(Children cry)

Papa?

Is it because she saw the angel?

No, sabine.

Angels protect.

(Celeste sobs)

Nicolette.

(Softly) Nicolette.

(Pants and sobs)

Yarggh!

(Weeps)

(Weeping steadies)

I want you to find her.
Find her in heaven.

I can't.

Find her.

Tell me next year how she is.

You're asking too much.

It won't make you happy.

If you love me you'll do it.

Take off your petticoat.

And sabine's.

There will be frost tonight.

We'll keep them warm. Day and night.

I won't lose these vines.

(Blows)

(Blows)

(Coughs throatily)

(Birdsong)

Ah, jodeau!

Still persisting
with these useless plants?

How much do you want for the 1815?

And the rest of what you've got
on reserve?

It's not for sale.

Six bottles.

And you buy the glass.

Six bottles. And this year's vintage
we'll take for the tavern.

My niece will oversee
the transaction.

(Church bell peals)

And now you must both
excuse me, for...

I have business with the lord.

A couple of heretics like yourselves
should have much to discuss

while the good people
of aluze are in church.

Why do you bother?

These plants
need everything they can get.

Even their own ash.

Se the eleee! Are reeem.

Very romantic.

Oh, god. How thoughtless.

Er... please forgive me.

Meeeieur jeeeeu.

I am truly sorry
for the loss of your daughter.

She's with god.

It amuses you, baroness?

No. I suppose I did not presume you
to be a god-fearing man.

You don't believe in god?

The vengeful god with a white beard?

With punishment
looming over our heads

and then the joy that will solve
everything including death?

No, I don't believe in that.

I choose to put my faith
in the facts.

Although it would have me tried
as a heretic in these parts.

Much as it entertains you, baroness,

you will find that people here
believe because they need to.

It's all they have.

Excuse me.

And you, monsieur jodeau?

What is it you believe in?

My experience.

Well, experience is the one thing
I do not have, monsieur,

so I expect that makes us equal.

Might I walk with you?

(Water splashes)

Who are you thinking of?

No-one.

(Water splashes)

Why am I not enough for you?

You are.

Then where do you go?
And who do you go to?

Allow me this one night.

I will give you the world.

You and the children.

I promise.

Nicolette's vintage.

It tastes like sorrow.

You have the finest palate
in the district.

Regret.

Guilt.

Did you see her?

She feels no pain, sobran.

Thank you.

Thank you so much.

Why?

You take away my pain.

But your pain's essential.

Don't leave me!

Life has pain as well as pleasure.

(Birdsong)

(Breathes feebly)

(Coughs)

(Parts)

Aurora: You need a doctor,
not a priest.

I need what gives me comfort.

He's highly regarded.

Verifying miracles
and diagnosing hysterical women.

He responds to the needs
of the people.

As you will need to.

Now is no time
to quarrel with an old man.

Employ jodeau.

He has his father's knowledge,
and, I swear, divine inspiration.

Employ him.

Just don't fall in love with him.

(Bell peals)

(Weeps)

Please.

(Sniffs)

He was a good man.

I don't know which is worse...

Having many loved ones to lose
or just the one.

Man: Baroness. Time is passing.

Please forgive me.
I must settle my affairs.

Or rather, these gentlemen
must do it for me.

Would you accompany me
to the library?

There's a matter
I'd like to discuss with you.

Yours, I believe.

May I?

(Cork pops)

(Pours)

(Pours)

To my uncle.

Tell me what's good about it.

(Clears throat)

It was my first.

And my best.

It tastes of promise.

The promise of what?

(Sniffs) A better wine.

Better than this one.

Better than anything
the chateau's produced.

And you believe
you could make such a wine?

It's possible. But not certain.

Why not?

(Coughs) Baroness,

making wine
is not a rational business.

The thought behind it.

The time it takes.

The way the sun moves.

You can't force a wine
any more than you can a child.

You have seasons that are disasters.

And then, all of a sudden...

A miracle.

A taste that...
That's many things at once.

Was there joy that year?

Loss.

You can taste it in the wine.

Do you propose to make
your own wine, baroness?

I rather hoped
you'd make it with me.

If I'm going to keep the chateau,
I'm going to need some help.

I'd like to propose that you manage
the estate as well as your own.

You may work here if you need to.

Is this your uncle's wish?

I'm going to try not to
fail him completely.

It's a bit musty, of course.

And be careful here.
One wouldn't want to fall.

I hope this arrangement
will suit us both, monsieur.

A few more days.

Then we press? Of course.

Put a third of them back.

The stems. Put them back.

You risk ruining the wine.

I'll take that risk.

A third of the stems.

Aurora: This is unorthodox.
Your methods are untested.

Yes. My methods may fail.

The slopes
will be pressed separately...

The wine reserved
for two or more years.

In oak barrels, not vats.

If it's good, we bottle it.
All of it.

It will be expensive. It's a risk.

We fail. But if we succeed...
If we succeed?

We make the greatest wine
France has ever produced.

The chateau will take
its place in history.

I will agree to your conditions.

If you will agree to mine.

I wish to be your partner.

I want you to teach me
everything you know.

If you do so,
then you will have my full support.

Cassis. Citrus.

No. No.

Anyone can learn to taste fruit.

Anyone. (Sighs)

Think about the taste.

You're an
intelligent woman, baroness.

Maybe too intelligent.

Deny your intellect
and tell me what you taste.

(Sighs) I don't know.

Your eyes won't help you.

But I don't...

I don't know how to explain it.

(Sighs)

(Clears throat)

Tell me what you feel.

Tell me what you feel.

What sort of skin?

Mmm...

It's coarse, but smooth also.

What else?

A little pain.

(Breath es heavily)

Effort.

(Breath es heavily)

(Sniffs) Dirt and sweat.

(Breath es heavily)

Tell me what you taste.

(Sighs) It's the same!

What else? Dirt.

Desperation.

You!

It tastes like you.

Yes.

(Birdsong)

Oh! Oh!

(Women laugh)

(Women laugh)

(Pours)

To our next vintage.

(Laughs) Can't you just see
their faces?

A lady negotiant, a peasant vintner
and a wine inspired by...

An angel.

(Wind rushes)

The 1825.
My latest wine for the chateau.

Cinnamon. Velvet. Tobacco.

It suits you.

I'm a lucky man.

When I met you I was just a peasant.

Now look at me.

Look at my wife, my children.

My vineyard.

The chateau's.

Those who used to patronise me
now wait for my opinion.

My decisions affect the whole region.

And this year I'll harvest the vines
from an angel's garden.

And I owe all my good luck
to one thing.

To you.

But I told you
I know nothing about luck.

My certainty then.

That there's no need to fear.

The whole business of faith
is pointless.

Other men have faith. I have proof.

I never gave you proof of anything.

But you're an angel. You are proof.

No, sobran.

But you saw Nicolette. In heaven.

You told me.

I simply conveyed the thought
that she felt no pain.

Heaven you imagined for yourself.

Not all angels
come from heaven, sobran.

I have a small garden there.

(Pants and sobs)

(Weeps)

Come away, sabine.
He's been bewitched.

I've allowed you your secrets
toolong.

(Sobs)

But when I find who has hurt you,
I will make them pay.

Man: Angelelorum, archangelorum,
patriarcharum, prophetarum,

apostolorum, martyrum,
confessorum, virginum,

atque omnium simul sanctorum.

Amen.

Per istam sanctam unctionem,
et suam piisimam misericordiam,

indulgeat tibi Dominus quidquid,
per visum deliquisti.

Per istam sanctam unctionem,
et suam piisimam misericordiam,

indulgeat tibi Dominus quidquid,
per audtiotum deliquisti.

Per istam sanctam unctionem,
et suam piisimam misericordiam...

(Priest's voice fades)
..Indulgeat tibi Dominus quidquid...

(Knock at door)

(At normal volume)
Per istam sanctam unctionem,

et suam piisimam misericordiam,
indulgeat tibi Dominus...

They tell me your father is ill.

You mustn't see him.
The priest is with him now.

I beg you, go.
Please don't trouble us.

Where did you get this?

Who gave it to you?

No-one.

There's no bird like this here.
Give it to me.

It's a gift. Stop it.

A rich woman's gift.

She's the baroness.
She's a demon.

She changed into a bird.

Are the children inside?

It's after midnight.

I don't want them outside
after sunset.

Promise me.

Leaveit

Meeeme eelle

a gift for the baroness from maman.

To thank her for her concern.

(Dogs bark outside)

(Dogs bark)

(Distant barking)

Do we pick?

No. We wait.

The storm will pass.

(Thunder rumbles)

(Thunder rumbles)

(Thunder rumbles loudly)

Thu (gasps) Di)

(Horse whinnies)

(Birdsong)

Gentlemen,
I appreciate your waiting.

You'll be pleased to hear
it was a successful trip.

See what we have in store
for parisian society this year.

(Sets cup down)

What happened?

Your wine commands
a good price, baroness.

One bad year won't ruin you.

One bad year, no.

But how many more bad years
are ahead?

If this is how the wine tastes
when no longer made with enthusiasm

then perhaps
I should sell the estate?

As you wish.

I insist that you join me.

(Pours)

It's the 1815.
Still your best wine.

(Pushes glass across) Please.

So, your first wine...

And your last.

What happened to you
between this wine and that?

I was betrayed.

And you took a dozen years
to sicken of it?

Poisoned friendships are a slow poison.

(Calls) I'm ready.

(Birdsong)

On my death you will inherit
the estate.

That's not important.

So you say now,
but life has a way of going on.

And my surviving an operation
would be,

in the surgeon's own words,

and I don't believe in those,
so what would be the point?

So you'll just give up.

My living or dying
will affect no-one.

Please.

Go to Paris.
Or ask the surgeon to travel here.

Offer him a fortune.

It's what anyone that loved you
would wish you to do.

That loves me?

But I've never been
in your confidence.

Then let me make a bargain with you.

If you bring the surgeon here

and if you survive the operation,

I'll tell you everything.

(Sobs)

(Breath es heavily)

Oh! (Breathes heavily)

(Screams)

(Sniffs)

A miracle.

Did you hope I'd die
so you wouldn't have to tell me?

I prayed for you not to die.

So you still underestimate
my strength

and overestimate your effect.

So tell me.

Not now.

You'll need to see for yourself.

When you're well.

Ask your questions. But please don't
say you disbelieve my answers.

Why did you come? To torment me?

To take my child?

No, sobran.

I couldn't prevent it.

Why can't you believe what you've
learned about me yourself?

Because I don't know
what I'm looking at.

What are you?

An angel. Your angel.

A demon. Your demon then.

I'm both.

Sobran, you believe that
heaven is good and hell is evil

and there is nothing in between.

And that's why I fell. Willingly.

Why me?

Your desire.

For life.

For wine.

My desire was a curse.

But your curse was your luck.

Don't you see that you can't have
one without the other?

That you don't get love
without the possibility of loss,

joy without despair,

or a great vintage
without many failures?

You can taste it
in the wine, sobran.

Why can't you accept it in yourself?

That you can despise me
in this moment, but still love me.

Still want me with you.

So you give me pain?

More pain than anyone?

Is this friendship impossible?

(Footsteps approach, door opens)

Man: Baroness,
the carriage is ready.

You mean to take my husband,
but my daughter was enough.

(Grunts and struggles)

(Wails and screams)

Get out of my sight!

Get out! (Wails)

Leave us in peace! (Wails)

(Grunts and wails)

(Continues grunting and wailing)

(Grunting calms)

(Kisses)

You're mine.

(Birdsong)

Dear lord, we thank you for this food

and continue to protect us
from evil... from the sorcerer,

from the demon, from the enemy,
from the snake and the rabid dog.

Amen.

(Spits)

Monsieur? What do you taste?

(Breath es heavily)

(Spits)

(Spits)

(Breath es heavily)

I came as soon as I heard.

I regret not sending word earlier.

It's everywhere.

And what do you propose we do?

I have no answers for you, baroness.

So you've done nothing?
There's nothing to be done.

The stock is destroyed.

My luck has run out.

Your luck?

You should have remained in Paris.

The workers are all leaving.

So tell them to stay.

There is nothing for them here.
They will starve.

No, they'll work.

I'll order rootstock.
In the meantime we will prepare.

Each and every plant
will need to be dug out and burnt.

It should keep your workers busy.

It's futile.

Aren't you tired
of giving things up?

Walking away when the circumstance
no longer suits you?

This land has been in my family
for 300 years

and it's my birthright
to protect it.

Not all of us have angels, you know.
If that's what I saw.

Most of us only
have what is in front of us.

And if god exists...
He's in my own two hands.

I don't believe in heaven.
I don't believe in it.

You know that. I want it now.

I want it now while you're here
and we can do something.

(Pants and sobs)

(Weeps)

(Thunkd (gasps)

The vines on the Ridge.
They're the last.

(Hoe thumps)

(Grunts)

(Grunts and pants)

(Sobs)

Do you know what it's like... to care
about something your whole life...

To love it like nothing else...

And have it come to nothing?

Yes.

(Birdsong)

He is the son of a nobleman
and he is a connoisseur.

His father procured the rootstock.

He and sabine have found
much in common.

He cares for her deeply.

When I married sabine's mother...

There was talk of her...'Trouble'.

I won't have sabine disappointed.

Or heartbroken.

If you would speak to
the young man's father...

No, no. There's nothing to say.

Sabine is a level-headed
young woman. She's had to be.

It's a risk.

Of course. And one has to gamble
to see what grows.

But don't you think it's time
for a wedding at the chateau?

A wedding with no wine.

You still have some in reserve.

The 1815. The year we met.

I can't think of a better occasion.

(Music and hubbub)

(Cheering)

Congratulations.

(Coughs)

May I join you?

Forgive me, but the finest shoes in Paris
are not made for such dancing.

(Gasps, sobs)

(Both pant)

(Gasps and moans)

(Pants and gasps)

(Sobs)

(Sighs)

(Laughs)

Salt.

You can taste.

You can taste.

A little. Like an ordinary man.

I used to think so.

When I had an angel beside me.

When I thought I was lucky.

(Sighs)

You're not yourself without him.

My beloved friend.

I have nothing to offer you.

I have made no wine for a long time.

We'll harvest soon.

Have a wine that's never been tasted.

I have everything I need.

Theland.

The plants.

My family.

But I want you with me.

I want you with me to make this wine.

Then help me.

(Grunts)

(Coughs)

Here's the clothes you asked for.

So he's human now?

And how does he like it?

He said that...

He said it hurts
more than he thought it would.

Thank you.

(Coughs)

(Coughs)

(Coughs)

The wine?

How is it?

It's waiting for you.

(Coughs)

How do you feel?

Shrunken.

Old.

But something else.

As if I'm getting lighter...

But stronger.

(Coughs gently)

Is that what it's like?

(Breathes raggedly)

Celeste. (Breath es heavily)

Celeste.

It's time.

Take them home.

(Breathes weakly)

(Birdsong)

(Breathes weakly)

Aurora: Sobran. Your wine.

(Wheezes softly)

What do you taste?

I taste you.