All language subtitles for Plus.que.jamais.2022.1080p.HMAX.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-playWEB.1

-Go without me.
-No, please.

I won't go on my own.

-Come on.
-No.

How about this?

I'll dress you,
you don't have to do anything.

I'll even put on your make-up.
Come on.

There we go.

Stop moving.

I'm better than you at this anyway.

Come on...

Shit.

-Hi.
-Hi.

-Take a seat.
-Shall I sit here?

What would you like to drink?

-Mathieu?
-Champagne!

-So a beer, then.
-That's fine by me.

What about you, Hélène?

-Water.
-Water, coming right up.

Thank you.

I've cooked some Catalan octopus
for tonight.

Audrey and Mehdi, of course.

-Your shirts are always...
-That's why we're late.

-I was hesitating.
-It looks pretty good.

You never come,
so for sure you can't be late.

-How are you?
-Good and you?

I'm so glad you came.

-Hi.
-Hi.

I'm glad to see you.

Me too.

-Something to drink?
-I'll have a beer, please.

It's a girl.

I can feel it, I'm never wrong.

All right, don't get too handsy.

Shall we bet a dinner out?

-How long has it been?
-Eight weeks.

It's still so tiny!

Hélène? Looking for something?

Some ice.

Do you want another drink?
More water?

No.

Still working at your firm in Chartrons?

No, I stopped working
a month ago.

It's a relief not having to go
to the office anymore.

But it's sad at the same time.

Maybe you'll get back
earlier than expected.

Yes.

There's a couple of missing motifs.

-Mathieu, some wine?
-Of course.

No wine for you?

-Really?
-Yes, sure.

It's hard to gauge the size of it.

-Audrey?
-No, thanks.

I'm driving.

I've rented us the chalet in the Jura
for two weeks in February.

Great!

So we're sure to get it!

-Some wine?
-Sure.

Why are you lying?

You think I'm not pleased
to know you're pregnant?

-Hélène, please.
-But it's true.

You brought me here because
everyone wanted to see me.

So there you go.

I'm here.

I may not look great,
it may not be what you expected, but...

Here you go.

Yes, I am sick.

And I may even die.

But you, Audrey,

you're going to have a child.

And that's beautiful.

But stop behaving like this with me.

Nobody knows what to do
in such a situation.

But I don't know either.

So stop behaving like this.

It's humiliating.

So what should we do?
Forget about you?

Maybe just do nothing.

Don't go!

Hélène, really...

As if I'm ever going back to work.

Look, it was clumsy.

They're trying their best.

The best they can, that's all.

Come here.

We're walking like an old couple...

Mathieu.

Are you upset?

Do I have a choice?

Hello. How are you?

How are you? Hello.

What are you up to?

Nothing special.

Have you seen Dr. Girlotto?

Any news?

What about you?

Let's talk about you for a change.
What are you up to?

What do you want me to say?
Right, listen to this.

Yesterday, I took Julot to the lake
and he stole some kid's ball.

I'm sending you some pictures.

There we go.

You got them?

The kid's father was furious,
wanted to call the police.

Very funny.

You know, I can take the afternoon
train to come see you.

No, I'm fine.

-It's no bother, you know.
-Mom, it's fine.

Don't cry.

Mom, please.

There's nothing we can do,
that's how it is.

I love you.

I love you too.

-Call me back, please...
-Yes, it'll be all right.

-Bye, sweetheart.
-Bye.

Are your seizures more frequent?

No.

No.

I still have them,
but the same as before.

I'm going to prescribe you some opiates.
Unnecessary suffering is not my thing.

Nor is it mine.

We had a meeting with
lung specialists at Hospital Cochin.

In your case, you'd be eligible
for a double lung transplant.

Really?

That's great!

Of course, we'll have to be patient
to find the perfect donor,

who would be sufficiently compatible.

We have to make sure
the lungs will be healthy enough.

Mrs. Mouchet?

It's good news.

Yes.

But it's a major surgery.

There's a risk of rejection.

We sometimes have to replace
a transplanted lung after an infection.

But if the transplant works,
it means she can live.

I cannot promise anything.

I look after many patients
suffering from IPF.

They are usually older.

And 50% of them are still alive
three years after the transplant.

Think about it.

Take all the time you need.

Unfortunately,
there's no alternative at the moment.

I operated on a patient ten days ago.
Everything went well.

If you wish,
I can ask him to talk to you tomorrow.

Yes.

Perhaps it's a good idea.

I imagine you're not one
for receiving mails or comments,

but I'm writing you
solely for selfish reasons:

I've beeen following your blog
for a while now,

and I'd like you to come out
of your operation

or whatever it is that's being
done to you, healthy and strong.

I would miss your posts
quite sincerely.

Thank you for your selfish concerns.

Usually, I only get crazy
people writing me,

proposing miracle treatments
psychological counselling, etc...

Come, let's eat.

I also get naked pictures
from women of all of all ages

as well as men... of all ages!

It's quite breathtaking.

For your appeasement though,
I am not quite dead yet,

the tumour was bored and left me,
for now.

My intestines seem to miss it
because I'm hurting more than before.

You're tap dancing.

-Look.
-Wow!

I've never seen this photo,
where did you get it?

Remember that workshop
with the American teacher?

In Auvergne?

What was his name again?

-Henry.
-Henry, that's right.

He always carried a big wooden plank
for us to practice anywhere.

And we slept in that tiny tent.

It's funny.

I remember you were really good.

He loved to dance with you.
What did he always say?

The sloppy but light steps
of Hélène are exquisite.

Marvelous.

You're not eating?

In the hospital today...

-I was waiting for you to mention it.
-Yes.

So what did he say?

We didn't really talk.

He was exhausted, and I...

I felt very weird.

And I felt like I couldn't breathe.

-For God's sake.
-What?

I don't understand
why you're always negative.

For now, it's your only chance,
so be a bit more positive.

Do you realize you interrupt me
every time I talk about my feelings?

Or my fears?

Can't you imagine that I'm afraid?

My love, they put you on the list.

It means that you now have a good chance
to get healthy lungs, that's good news!

I don't get it.

And you're young and strong.

-Your body will accept the lungs.
-How can you know that?

We don't know that.

Okay.

I spoke with Gérard.

It's fine if I go
to the workshop three days a week,

and on the other days stay home
and look for frames online.

No. You know what I think?

I don't want your life to change.
I don't want this to impact you.

Of course, it has an impact
on my life and my work!

Do you think I go to work
and pretend that...

Stop it!

Please, stop.

I want to spend time with you.
Is it so hard to understand?

I'm right here.

You can see that.
I'm not in a coffin.

Mathieu.

I need space.

You need space?

Okay.

Okay.

Damn.

-Do you have a light?
-Nope.

Thanks.

Are you all right?

I'm all right.

Does Marie still travel so much?

Yes, all the time.

Do you miss her when she's away?

Yes, of course.

Well, it depends...

Why?

I don't know...

I sometimes think
I'd be better off on my own.

That's not true...

It's not true, I miss her.

I miss her so badly...

We've never spent so much time together,
and I miss her so.

It's very strange...

She's here, but...

it feels like she's already gone.

Hello?

Hello?

Hallo? I...

I can't see you.

No, my camera is broken,
but audio is fine.

Yes, audio is fine.

Do I hear a slight accent maybe?
Are you French?

No, not really.
I'm Luxembourguish.

But I spent most
of my teenage years in France.

So let's speak in French.

I hope you understand me.

Yes.

Very good.
Where did you learn French?

I used to work with French people.

And where was that?

I worked for three years
on an offshore oil rig

in the Ivory Coast.

-You never went?
-No.

Africa rocks!

I don't know how you say that in French.

Maybe: "l'Afrique, ça rocke."

Africa's the top.

It kicks ass.

It kicks ass.

I love it!

So, how are you? You didn't post
much since your operation.

No, I felt like shit.
I didn't feel like sharing.

Yeah I know how that feels.

Are you sick?

Yes.

Before I was diagnosed, I thought...

that I'd want to talk about it a lot,
but it's actually the opposite.

And you've kept that to yourself?

Yes.

Except for my husband and my mother.

My friends found out little by little.

The living cannot understand the dying.

So it's better not to see anyone.

Yes.

Perhaps it's best for everyone.

You okay?

I'm sorry...

Look, I'll call you back, ok?

I was wondering where you had gone.

I had to fetch my oxygen concentrator.

My oxygen concentrator.

It's good we're on audio so you don't have
to see the fucking thing.

All the tubes stuck up my nose.

You couldn't scare me.

You know, I really like your blog.

And that you only have images

and no stupid comments like:
'Keep on fighting',

or: 'You're so brave'.

Oh well yeah,
I delete those comments.

Nothing worse than being told
how brave you are by a healthy person.

I hate healthy persons.

Are you there?

Yes.

Tell me about Saebø.

Saebø?

Saebø?

You're a spy!

Well yeah... Here, you're in the country,
I can tell you.

I live in an old house.

Just by the fjord.

There's a boathouse below.

Green mountains everywhere.

It's perfectly boring.

I'm sorry.

I couldn't sleep anyway.

You're drunk.

Did you smoke weed?

You know how they are.

Do you have some left? I'd like a smoke.

Maybe.

A bit...

reckless, isn't it?

Just a little, okay?

Are you sure?

That's enough.

Come on.

Come on, stop now...

No, no.

No, come on, stop.

Are you okay?

Easy.

Please, I want to.

Wait.

Lie down.

Lie down.

Come on.

Lie...

Lie on your back.

Come on.

Lie down.

That's it.

Are you okay?

It doesn't matter.

It's all right.

-Fuck!
-It's okay.

I love you.

I'm off.

Okay?

Mathieu?

What?

I...

I want to go to Norway.

To Norway?
Why Norway?

For the fresh air and nature.

I've always been fascinated
by the landscape.

I've thought about it a lot lately.

And Dr. Girlotto says
I should get out more.

I've already looked up the itinerary.

It's not very complicated
and it's cheap.

I can ask Gérard about it.

Last year, Anne covered for me
and it went well.

No.

What?

I'd like to go alone.

Why alone? I don't get it.

What does that mean?

You want to cross half of Europe
on your own?

That's ridiculous.

I thought you were scared of flying.

I'm taking the train.

You're going to go to Norway by train?

In your condition?

-What...
-I need to go.

I need to go far away.

To find a new place.

Time for myself.

Silence to think,
to reconnect with myself.

To find some lightness again.

-And that's impossible with me, right?
-No!

That's not what I meant.

I'm trying to explain to you
that I need some distance,

but distance from everything.

Right here, all I do is wait.

I can't take it anymore.

What if Dr. Girlotto finds a donor,
what do we do then?

Will you do the long journey back?

I don't know.

But I know I have to take this trip now.

Because I don't know
if I'll have the strength down the line.

I can feel the time is now.

And you, you traveled alone to Chile
ten years ago.

I've never done anything like that.

I've never had the courage.

There's always been
something stopping me.

Work, my mother or you.

-I've never stopped you from traveling.
-No.

So perhaps I never dared.

Even though I'm sick, I'm still allowed
to give it a chance, no?

No, Hélène.

I can't let you go, it's a big mistake.

I'm sorry, it's out of the question.

No, no.

I want to take this trip,

even if you disagree.

I'm going to take this trip.

Mathieu.

My love. Comma.

You must be asleep already. Full stop.

I'm feeling surprisingly good.

Full stop.

I don't know why
I've never traveled alone before.

Full stop.

I love you. Exclamation mark.

-Hélène?
-Yes.

Mister?

My name is Bent.

Thank you.

It's beautiful out here.

For sure.

But I've gotten used to it.

You don't look anything like
the pictures on your blog.

-What picture?
-Like the pictures in the hospital gown?

-The naked ass.
-Ah, him!

That was my roommate.

I see.

I never said it was me.

Let me take you
to your cabin first.

This is it.

This used to be a boathouse.

I put some towels there,
and there's a bottle of water.

For the toilets,
you can come up to the house.

See you later.

Thank you.

I've arrived safely. Full stop.

I'm doing well. Full stop.

I miss you. Exclamation mark.

In uppercase.

A LOT.

Exclamation mark.

What...

-Hey.
-Hello.

Sorry for yesterday evening.
I was totally drained.

I know.

What do you want? Tea? Coffee?
Tea please, yes.

Tea, good.

We only got leftovers I'm afraid.
Actually I prefer the Bergen soup.

The Bergen soup?

-The Bergen soup.
-But can you tell me what's in it?

It's vegetables, it's cream,
it's fish, of course.

And I don't know exactly,
I have to read the label on the jar.

Can you take two bowls
from the cupboard, please?

Oh and do you have Internet?
Wi-Fi?

I don't seem to get any signal
on my phone.

Are you kidding me?

I've got enough radiation
in my body as it is.

No Wi-Fi.
Only an old fashioned cable.

But you can use the phone
in my office if you want to.

Yes but I...
I really wanted to write an SMS.

A text message.

Well there's a place nearby here
that we call 'the Reception Hill'.

It's the only place with a good signal.

-Can I walk? Is it walkable?
-Of course, you can walk, yes.

Did you have a good night sleep?

-No.
-No?

Actually no. I think it was the silence
and all this light.

Oh I see.

The sun, the silence, the calmness.
It's horrible.

-Hello.
-Hi.

Finally!

-At last!
-Hello.

What happened?

-Are you all right?
-Yes.

I have no signal. Almost.

I had to climb a hill to call you.

Everyone does it,
there are lots of people here.

Did you receive the photos
from the trip?

Yes.

Hélène, I was so worried.

I know, but I'm fine.

The trip was a bit tiring,
but I'm fine now.

I tried to reach you for two days.

I've called so many times
and sent messages.

-I didn't receive anything.
-It's normal I'm worried!

-I didn't receive anything.
-It's not cool.

Sorry.

It's fine.

You look like you're doing well.

How's the hotel?

Don't they have Wi-Fi there?

It would be good to get in touch
if there's an emergency.

I didn't check, I was too tired.
I'll check it out later.

You have to see that: Nature.

-Wow.
-Can you see?

Beautiful.

Well, if your disease doesn't kill you,
my cooking surely will!

-No, you are a fantastic cook, Bent.
-Thanks.

I'm sorry.

No, it's... I lose my appetite all of a
sudden. You must have that too, no?

I do. Very often, actually.

What is it that you have?

You never told me.

You never asked.

You don't have to talk about it,
if you don't want to.

It's an idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis.

Come again?

Idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis.

It means they don't know
anything about it,

where it comes from or how to treat it.

Perhaps that's better for you.

When you have cancer,
they all know what to do.

So they kill you with their drugs.

-I've never seen it that way.
-No?

My lung tissue is getting thicker.

They become thicker.

So it becomes harder and fibrous.

The air can't get in.

So you can't breathe anymore.

And it gets worse...
until you suffocate.

Okay.

My only option is to have a transplant.

They'd open up my chest,
pull my lungs out,

throw them in the trash,

and find new ones.

From someone else.

And hope my body accepts them
and I can breathe with them.

Either it works or it doesn't.

So it really sucks.

Well...

Thank you for this beautiful shelter!

No, I mean it, really.

Sleepwalking?

It's the light.

It's making me crazy.

It's unbearable.

Did you make this yourself?

Sometimes I get really bored.

It used to be my favourite part at work.

I would sit endless hours alone
making these.

It's all right, Bent.

Although, if this is your garage,

I would put a terrace here.

And then I would put really big windows
overlooking the fjord.

That's a splendid idea.

But then, more light in the summer.

But then I saw your blackout
style blinds in your bedroom.

You could put these in the big windows,
and then also get them for the hut.

It's that bad.

Would you like to sleep in my room?

Really?

-For a while.
-You wouldn't mind?

I mean I would love to,
just for a couple of hours.

But you, how are you feeling?
Are you all right?

I felt like shit today.
But I've had a very good sleep.

Okay.

Sorry.

What time is it?
How long was I asleep for?

Five hours at least.

Oh God! That's good.

But I think I will have to sleep
a little more if it's okay.

Of course.
I'll just grab my things.

But why?

-I'm going to sleep in the hut.
-No, Bent, please.

Don't sleep in the hut.

I never told you but the bed
is actually awful.

I would like you to sleep
in your own bed.

You should sleep here.

I'll just lie here a little longer,
if I don't bother you.

No, no.

-Okay.
-Fine.

-Hi! How are you?
-Hi.

Do you see me?

I'm glad.

I waited for your call yesterday.

I slept for 15 hours straight.

I couldn't sleep in the hotel,
so I moved.

So you're not in the hotel anymore?

No.

I met an old guy in a supermarket.

And it turns out
he's renting a cabin in his backyard.

So I decided to move there.

Yeah?

-So you're now living at an old guy's?
-Since yesterday, yes.

It's really pretty.

It overlooks the fjord.

Isn't it a bit weird to live
with a guy you don't know?

No. He even speaks French.

He's very nice,
and is often on his own.

It's very quiet there,
I sleep very well.

I'll send you some pictures.

All right.

What happened?

Do you want me to call a doctor?

It was just my last walk.
That's all.

Maybe it was.

Maybe it wasn't.

What?

Your last walk.

You know...
Over there,

I was sitting on the ground,

and for a few seconds...

I was ready to leave.

And it was nice.

Don't worry.

Hi.

Was that a friend?

An acquaintance.

And do you like her?

You rarely get visitors,
what did she want?

Just leave it.

Sorry.

She's a woman from the village.

Her husband was one
of my best friends.

Now they're having a memorial service
for him and she invited me.

And that's it.

And you're not going to go.

That's right.

Her husband and I,

we were both engineers
on an oil platform.

30 years ago.

I haven't talked about
this for a long time.

There was a malfunctioning
in one of the pumps.

Something ignited the gaz in the pump.
And an huge explosion blasted out.

Like a blowtorch,

only multiplied five thousand times.

Black smoke everywhere.

Only heat.

Some men were trapped
in the middle of the platform.

And the flames were coming closer.

So I had to jump.

When I got to the surface,
the water was burning hot.

I swam as far as I could.

And then I bumped into this dead body,
floating face down.

Death.

The dead.

Became somehow part of my life.

I don't need to commemorate
that every year.

-Hello?
-Hello?

-It's you?
-Yes.

Are you all right?

Yes, I am. What about you?

I'm fine.

I'm pleased to hear your voice.

Me too.

Are you okay? Your voice is thin.

I had a dizzy spell.

What do you mean?

It was...

I think I pushed too hard
during a walk.

-Damn, Hélène.
-But I'm feeling better now.

-Are you sure?
-Yes, I'm sure.

I think I understood
something important.

Tell me.

It's hard to explain.

But...

The nature, the sky, the wind...

and the constant light,
it's like a shock.

And at the same time,

it's comforting.

It's reassuring.

It's weird, I'm sick,

but I feel good at the same time.

Do you understand?

No, not really.

I don't know
if it's because I'm on my own,

or if it's the environment
and everything,

but I suddenly feel aware of my body.

I feel present within my body.

And I feel that I want...

I want my body...

What?

What do you want?

I think I don't want the transplant.

What? Damn it, Hélène...

-That's bullshit!
-It's my body.

Oh no.

I don't want to suffer in a hospital.

I don't want them to open me up
and stitch me back up again.

I don't want to die in hospital
if the surgery doesn't work.

I don't want doctors to decide my fate.

-Why are you giving up?
-No.

-I'm not.
-Yes, you are.

It's the opposite.

I am fully aware,
and I'm making a choice.

I'm choosing how I'm going to leave.

No, you're choosing to die, full stop.

I don't know what's going in Norway,

but this is not a discussion
we should have on the phone.

So I'm coming.

I'm coming to get you.

I'll take a plane.

Hey!

Hey.

I don't want to interrupt you.

Do you think I can sit on your couch?

Sure.

But don't talk to me.

I'm kind of inspired here.

My husband is coming here.

I told him I don't want
to do the transplant.

Okay.

I will get a room in a hotel
in Saebø.

You can stay in the hut.

Thank you.

Dinner is served!

The first evening I moved here,

this is where I sat, on this exact
same bench.

And eat pizza?

Drinking beer if I remember well.

Why did you stay here
after the accident?

I couldn't go.

My wife left.

She went back to Oslo with my son.
She...

She couldn't take it.

Do you think it's selfish
that I want to stay here?

You're the one dying.

You don't owe anybody
a special kind of death.

You choose what's best for you,
not for the living.

And who is selfish anyway?

You or those who want to keep
you alive whatever it takes?

Let's go.

Oh, no, no, no.

-Are you sure?
-Yes.

Okay.

On three?

One, two, three!

Damn! I can't...

Are you okay?

Hélène...

We'll go step by step.

But if they find a donor,
you can't stay here.

You know that...

Not now, Mathieu.

Please.

I don't understand why you don't want
to seize the opportunity.

What are you making?

Mayonnaise.

With cheese?

-Like this?
-Perfect.

Maybe I should leave for a while.

No.

It's your house.
If someone should leave, it's us.

Your house, my house, his house.
Who cares?

This is tough for him.

Can I have one?

Thanks.

I made this...

How do you say in French?

-An embankment.
-Yes.

I built it myself.

There was nothing here before.

I transported the stones by tractor
and worked like crazy

for weeks.

I showed photos to Hélène...

-Sorry.
-No, no.

Has Bent left?

I'm feeling very tired
all of a sudden.

I think I'm going
to lie down in the hut.

I'll join you.

Aren't you cold?

You know, I've been thinking.

If you really want to stay here,
we'll stay.

We'll stay as long as you want.

I'll find a solution.
If they find a donor, we'll see.

I even thought we could rent
a house in the area.

What do you think?

What's wrong?

I can't.

What do you mean, you can't?

It's...

It's too hard.

What's too hard?

I know it's hurting you...

to see me like this.

And I know it scares you.

I can see it in your eyes
when you look at me.

And I won't get better.

I won't get better.

I so want to get better
because I love you.

But we both know

that I won't succeed.

It's only going to get worse.

I don't have a future anymore.

But you can go on.

You'll start a new life.

You'll meet someone new
and you'll have a child!

-Stop it, please!
-Why should I stop?

It's the truth!

It's true and it hurts!

That's what's going to happen.

And you say you want
to live your life with me.

But I can't!

When I see you,
I see everything we used to be.

And everything we could have been.

Everything we will never be again.

Never again!

Because of me
and I hate myself for it.

Do you get it?
And when you're not here, it's easier.

You hate yourself for it?
It's easier when I'm not here?

What about me?

Did you think about me?

You think it's easier for me?

Do you even realize what you're saying?

Shall I go back to Bordeaux
and live my life as if nothing happened?

I go to work, dine with our friends,

while I know
you're here all alone, just...

Just what?

Just dying.

That's what's going to happen,
you'll die here, all alone!

Is that what you want?

That's not how it's done.

In those moments, you should be
surrounded by loved ones.

You should stay
with your loved ones till the end!

How dare you ask me that?

Where are you going?

For a walk.

You coming?

Hélène.

Slow down, please.

Where are you going?

What are you playing at?

Hélène.

Please stop.

Enough.

Stop it, that's enough.

Hélène.

Oh no.

Why did you do that?

Calm down.

It's going to be okay.

It's going to be okay.

Breathe...

Come here.

Breathe, breathe.

Open your mouth.

Hélène, Hélène.

That's it. That's it.

I'm here.

Can you hear me?

That's it.

Breathe, that's good.

It's all right.

POUR GASPARD