All language subtitles for Equator.1983

Africa. That shithole.

The journey had been hard.
Ominous.

I disembarked with
vomit in my mouth,

with all my fucking illusions

and my thirst for a bright future.

Can you give me a ride?

Brandy with soda water.

Africa... that shithole.

It is no longer
the time of the Pygmies,

or the Negri or Bakele or Bakota.

Mahogany, ebony, and okoumé,

manganese, gold, and diamonds of
the mountains of Chaillu.

I'd also heard talk about the torture
the colonials and their men endured.

Ah, the guy is still here.

Do you want something?

No thanks.

So you've just landed?

You will see it's even more despicable
than you might think.

Africa.
One believes they've fucked her

and yet it is she
who fucks you in the end.

To the bone.

I'm not saying this
to be demoralizing.

But that's what I think.

Interesting.

No, no...

I just came to ask,

what would you like
in the morning?

Tea?

Coffee?

I warn you, it's disgusting.

Shit...

Withdrawn. No points.

They're watching us.

You're really lousy!

I'd hit it head on.

Adèle, give me a Pernod.
Dry!

Get it from the left.

Do as you will.

Don't listen to them, they're
complete assholes.

Shut up!

Slut!

Damn you! I'll make you pay!

Whore.
You're a whore, Adèle.

I searched for
something to tell her,

I don't know what, any bullshit,

to continue having
contact with her.

I searched her gaze,
anticipating a look

but it seemed that I would not
meet with her again.

I had only fucked her.
Perhaps wrong. Or right.

- I was looking for you.
- Go away, idiot!

It was as if nothing
had ever happened.

Jesus, Maria...

Forgive my sins!

I don't want to die...

Oh God!

Shit!

They just found Tomas's body.

Three bullets to the stomach.

Adèle, I suddenly feel really bad!

I believe I'm getting ill...

What have you done with him?

Where is Tomas?
What has happened to him?

Damn nigger...

So, is your husband better?

He's started ranting and raving.

Take it to the kitchen.

I'll pay you later.

By the way,
there's a message for you.

After the dam,
you have to turn right.

Before arriving at
the Chargeurs Reunis.

You should go before
it gets too hot.

Adèle!

Come here! Stay with me!

Don't let me kick the bucket!

Passport.

- You've just arrived?
- With the last cargo ship.

Tell me...

Is Councillor General Timar

a relative of yours?

Yes, sir.

A man of valor.

He's still in Angoulème?

For three years I was an
inspector in that city.

He could be a
senator if he wanted.

What the fuck did you
come here for?

I signed a contract.

With the Sacova.

Really?

Is the director leaving?

No, I don't know...

In theory, I'm occupying the
position on the river.

Hmm, not easy.

Well...

You knew the Schneiders

before coming to this shithole?

It seems Eugène will not
survive the night.

So they tell me.

Of course,

you don't know more
than the others

about what happened tonight.

We know they took out a negro.

Cigar?

No?

I'd like if we ate lunch together,
one of these days.

I'll introduce you to my wife.

And when she's in bed,
I won't even say...

Tell me...

The Schneiders. What kind of
people are they?

You're not up to date?

Eugene has had residence bans
for a long time.

In France and Germany.

Your friend isn't clean.

Cocaine... benefit of the doubt.

But white prostitution...
that's for sure.

Understand?

And his wife helped him.

They used that money
to buy the Central.

You like her?

Who?

The German.

A beautiful woman, no?

The cynicism of that man
left me speechless.

As for the skepticism about
the Sacova,

he had actually been correct.

I could stick my recommendations
in the post.

I had come across a nutjob
who promised to put a bullet

into the ass of the first
replacement they sent.

Always the same story.

The French offices claim the
control over colonial affairs.

You understand?

Poor Eugène.
His time has come.

In any case,
this affects everyone.

This fucking climate
is screwing us.

Africa, this shithole.

The doctor says it's not safe to keep
him here any longer.

It's too hot.

Yes, because he's starting to
smell something serious.

What did they do with Tomas?

They've frozen him. Keeping him cool
like champagne on ice.

They will open his belly and
perform an autopsy.

Pull the shit out of him.

A beautiful ass is gone.

There's a black cop at
the crime scene.

In case it occurs to the person
who killed him

to recover the bullets.

Hey, guys, who's playing pool?

That's okay. I get it.

Adèle, give me a drink.

To Eugène's health...

I leave in two days.

Already tired, eh?

Going back to Europe?

No, no.

I'm going up the river,
so I can see...

Do you know they
found the bullets?

Really?

- The bullets that killed him...
- Yes yes I get it.

That's all you have to say?

I didn't know what I wanted
at that moment.

I was like a little boy crying
for no reason.

Or rather because
he feels unhappy.

Unhappy with everything, but
with nothing in particular.

No, you won't leave.

Stay here.

With me.

In short,
if I understand correctly,

you will return to
France without a penny,

since you say that
Sacova is bankrupt.

You know...

There's a possibility to make a lot
of money in three years.

I'll explain it to you.

What she told me had
nothing to do with me,

mingled with other impressions.

To the negresses with bare breasts
passing by on the street,

to the crackling of a diesel engine
panting somewhere.

To the foam of the waves
on the dam.

And then her eyes, her wet eyes,
her absent eyes,

Impossible to read.

The inhabitants of the forests,
those idiots, do not buy land.

The government gives
three-year concessions.

The first settlers have obtained
concessions of 30 years and more.

And others, even for a lifetime.

After they die, the property
returns to the state.

I know someone, a certain...

Tell me immediately if
you're not interested.

No, please continue,
I'm listening.

He's had it for 20 years, he is tired,
and he is ready to sell.

I'll put money in there.

I sell the cabin,

Bouilloux buys it.

- Ah yes, Bouilloux.
- And you.

You use your uncle's influence.

The Minister of Colonies
is in the same party.

Therefore... he will certainly...

make a small exception.

You in?

Well...
to the point that I understand.

Sacova bad situation.

Sacova bad situation. Stop.

You risk being left without men.

You must...

go to Paris

to meet with the Minister
of the Colonies.

Minister... colonies.

and get special authorization...

for transfer on my behalf.

Lifetime grant... Ruffaud.

Found capital.

Found capital...

Do you follow me?

I want to kiss you.

With love.

Indeed.

I saw myself hurtling to jail.

Loaded with precious wood.

And on the outbound cargo ship.

All this seemed rather
hypothetical to me.

From the deep within rose a sort of
ominous premonition,

But maybe, I told myself

it was the only way to stay near
that whore Adèle.

The old man lacks class.

- Listen.
- Yes, I know, I know him.

"I recommend you use extreme
caution in the question

of association and
the origin of capital. Stop.

Please contact the Libreville notary,
do not sign anything without him."

I'm only interested in the first three
words of this letter.

Concession easily granted.

No doubt about it,
you're someone!

Oh, the mosquitoes still got you.

It's your furry skin
that attracts them.

So you're associated with Adèle.

You'll also know that the investigation
is not closed.

And that nothing has changed
from our view.

I want to tell you the truth.

The gun is nowhere to be found.

It was certainly hidden well.

Maybe you've committed a slight
indiscretion, my man.

A young man like you, who certainly has
a brilliant future...

Forget it, please.

Damn it, these cigars
you bring from Italy.

I find them absolutely infected.

I mean, I understand with your
shit salary you can't afford Havanas...

You, young man,
are being ruined.

But this does not concern us.

Get out while you can.

Adèle is a beautiful woman,
no doubt about that.

In bed, sublime.

But there are
hundreds more like her.

Well,
maybe not here in Libreville.

I realize that not all of them
are fuckable.

I'm not talking about
the blacks, of course.

I can smell them from afar,
like the commissioner's cigars.

Not to mention syphilis,

- and other venereal diseases.
- I don't get what you're talking about...

I don't know where
you're going with this.

As for Adèle...

I've something to tell you.

I've made my decision.

We'll have to get up at 5am
to arrive earlier in the night.

Don't you feel like undressing?

Shit...

What have you done?

Are you crying?

Mean.

Why are you so mean?

Fatigue and heat certainly affect
my state of mind.

The sun was over our heads.

And the wind from our tartana
was no longer enough

to create a semblance of coolness.

The landscape in all its monotony

really started to get boring.

What the hell is going on now?

The engine has to cool off.

Wait a moment.

Where did you go? What the
fuck were you doing?

- Don't get involved in these things.
- Don't you want to tell me the truth?

I swear, I didn't do
anything wrong.

Was that a negro's hut?

There are no whites here.

Give me the bottle.

Haven't I the right
to be thirsty?

You drink too much, pay attention.

To what?
To the blacks in their huts?

- Pass me that bottle! I'm thirsty!
- Stop drinking, please.

Stop breaking my balls!
Give me that damn bottle!

Get out of here!

What's wrong? Why are you
looking at me like that?

Poor asshole of a nigger!

How many days have I been here?

Four.

Why are you looking
at me like that?

What's that guy doing here?

Who?

Ah, the Lyonnais.

He is the foreman.

He was already working in the
concession, and I hired him.

You should rest, dear.

You have a fever.

It's hematuria, isn't it?

It's not hematuria!

You had a scarlet fever scare.

It's not serious.

Certainly you were stung by
a shit fly on the river.

The sun and the alcohol
did the rest.

It's an instant 41° fever but
nobody has ever died.

Where are you going?

The construction site needs
occasional supervision.

What are you saying?

What construction site?

We put the machinery
back into operation.

Who's "we?"

The Lyonnais, he's a mechanic.

And who else?

We have 200 natives
hired to build huts

and to mount a hangar.

We have who?

But we two, my love...

You and I.

We.

Come here.

I want to fuck, I'm hard.

Stop drinking!

It's disgusting!

- Stop drinking, you're sick...
- Fuck!

Also, old Ruffaud gave me an idea.

It's not so bad.

The concession is full of orchids.

I read an old book
about the subject.

Imagine the misfortune they could
be used for in Europe.

Old people can use them
on their sagging tits

like planers.

Or on their ass.

Your French is not bad but

you speak like a whore.

Where does the Lyonnais sleep?

In a hut. Like the "bamboulas."

And who's feeding him?

He has a negress.
They live together.

It amazes me that
the guy likes women.

He seems like a queen!

Leave him alone.

He knows how to use the whip
very well.

And in three years we'll have
a lot of money and can leave here.

I can't listen to your assurances.

How much is that thing worth?

I don't know,
about 300,000 francs.

But then it's about 90,000
for the transport,

so it should leave us
with about...

30, 80, 10...
about 70,000 good francs.

Any news from the village?

Not much, honestly.

Apart from the Tomas affair.

They discovered the killer.
A negro, of course.

They arrested him
two days after you left.

He says he's innocent.

But they found the
gun in his hut.

What village was
the suspect from?

Why do you care?

Because... I have the right.

A small village downstream.

So what can I get for you?

I've got two cases of cognac,

one of Pernod, some rice and

red beans, salted beef

tobacco, packing paper,
and toilet paper.

And if you need gasoline,
I can give you twenty jerrycans.

Idiot!

You always carry your weapon, eh?

You got that black pig, eh?

Slut.

You're sick, you're crazy...

You are completely crazy...

- You don't understand anything!
- What?

Get off, you're hurting me!

I'll tell you. Very simply...

Speak, I'm listening.

Your stench is nauseating.

You could wash yourself
from time to time.

You're the one who brought
me to this filthy place.

You...

You never knew Eugène.

He had become jealous.

Especially recently.

I mean,
after he realized he was...

condemned.

Are you kidding me?

I saw him shake hands with the
commissioner, the prosecutor,

all the pigs that fucked you.

My poor dear...

You cannot understand.

It wasn't the same thing.

In your room,
I came naked as if...

as if instinctually.

Driven by a strong completely
animal desire.

Tomas saw me coming out and...

he offered me 30,000 francs

with the pretext
of buying a woman.

And I refused.

Once, twice, three times...

And so you killed him?

I thought... he would talk.

If I understand correctly,
you killed him for me?

I don't know.

I can't say.

Maybe I killed him
because it seemed right.

To have peace...

How could I have
foreseen that Eugène

would die?

The negro they arrested...

you don't care?

I hate you!

I hate you.

I love you.

Where is Adèle?

Slept well?

She had to leave
during the night.

When I got up, she was gone.

Don't take it so hard.

Everything is settled.

Since there's a culprit,
the case is closed.

They'd only hear any new
details as a formality.

Don't forget that
the gun is yours.

I'm taking her tartana.

Fuck you, I'll go up the river.

You'll implicate yourself.

Go fuck yourself!

I'm sure you fucked her too!

You're a bastard
like everyone else!

A bastard in all
this fucking shit!

Fucking shit, you hear me!
Fucking shit!

We'll camp here.

Regarding the 12-year-old
girl I met by chance

while the pirogue was stopped.

I have nothing to say.

Where is Adèle?

Ah, look who it is.

This is a nice surprise.

We thought you were over there.

How did you get here?

By plane?

In a pirogue.

Very good.

I'll bet it doesn't take him two
days to take quinine.

Just look at his eyes.

Where is Adèle?

You came here to ask me that?

What do you want me to say?

Tell me instead, how long did it take
to get down the river?

I like people with balls.

Very well, come with me.

Let's talk a little.

Listen to me, it's all settled.

And don't worry about Adèle.

She's a good girl,
we all know her well.

The last one.

It would be better if you didn't know
she's here in Libreville, understand?

She's a German, but other whites

must help each other.

What Adèle did,
it doesn't matter.

She had to do it,
and she did it well.

No need to go back to it.

She's European

she sees life in a
completely different way.

You walk around with
your cock and your knife

and think you can
change the world.

But when, like me, you've had
10 years in Gabon...

I don't enjoy killing blacks.

You'll be forced to
some time or other.

How many have you killed?

When I arrived back then

the whites were welcomed into the forest
by rains of arrows and spears.

It was deadly, you can imagine.

And you responded
with gunshots...

I know someone who got away

with throwing a stick
of dynamite at a bunch.

Adèle... Adèle...

Always in love!

You should both be over there.

Far from the eyes of others.

She's not in a hotel?

I don't know that.

She came and she left.

But she's not here.

Maybe she's out fucking
to restore her sanity.

There's no need to get angry.

We are both men. No?

- What, have you too?
- Stop the bullshit!

Tomorrow she'll be in
the Court of Assizes.

And things will likely go wrong.

Of course I slept with Adèle,
and I'm not the first.

In life, one has needs.

Adèle, at that time,
had Eugène behind her.

I understood the old man
would never get jealous.

It was, how should I say...
a politeness.

A necessity of the trade.

I banged Adèle for 5 years

and with you, it's the first time I've
seen someone in this state.

If I had known before, I would have done
everything to prevent this.

And it's fortunate
that her husband died!

Above all

I warn you,
don't put us through this shit!

You understand me?

We'll keep an eye on
you, asshole.

Adèle is a good little girl.

She doesn't deserve
8-10 years in jail.

What makes you think
she killed Tomas?

It is clear that this
is a tribal revenge.

The court, like the cemetery,

reeked of improvisation,

neglect, shit,
and contempt for traditions.

The murder weapon,
a 9 mm Colt.

Three bullets shot...

the coroner's report...

everything is by the book.

What shit.

Silence or I'll
clear you all out!

Silence.

Think of France.

And you. Do you speak French?

Hey, I asked you a question. Look at me
when I'm talking to you.

Yes, sir.

What is this idiot saying?

I guess he says he's
innocent, right?

Very well.

Very well...

Everything is clear.

It wasn't the negro, it was her!

That bitch, that damn lousy...

- Shut up!
- Slut!

- Stupid fool...
- Slut! Adèle!

- Adèle!
- Fool, shut up, or I'll kill you!

Adèle!

- Adèle!
- Shut up!

Adèle!

Adèle...

Adèle!

Adèle!

Adèle!

The negro was hanged three
days after the sentence.

I left Adèle in that
equatorial shithole.

No one at the time said:
"Africa, that shithole..."

Africa...

is the tomb...

of the white man.