All language subtitles for Fou d’amour (Mad love) 2015

This film is freely
adapted from real events.

History will note:

"The dawn of December 22, 1959

saw the Lyons executioner
coldly carry out his task.

A foul crime has been avenged by justice.

In other words, I have been dispatched.

You'll agree it's most unpleasant

to lose a part of oneself so brutally.

Especially if I assert that,
on the path that led me here,

I was no doubt a little guilty
but above all a true victim.

Yes, a victim.

As I exhale my last breath,

allow me to convince
you of this incredible truth.

It all began as it must...

In the beginning, God created the heaven

and the earth.

The earth was without form and void.

Darkness filled the deep

and God's spirit moved above the waters.

And God said,

"Let there be light."

And there was light.

God saw the light was good and
divided the light from the darkness.

He called the light Day
and the darkness Night.

And God said,

"Let the waters be gathered in one
place and let the dry land appear."

And it was so.

God called the dry land Earth

and the mass of waters Sea.

"Let the waters thrive
with living creatures

and let birds fly above
the Earth in the firmament."

And it was so.

And God formed man

of the dust of the ground

and breathed life into his nostrils

and man became a living soul.

God planted a garden

in Eden, to the East,

and put the man he had made in it.

He took one of his ribs

and made a woman from it.

The village of Albon, please!

I'm looking for Albon.

- It's that way. - Thank you!

He led the woman to the man

and the man said,

"This is bone of my bone,

flesh of my flesh."

Come in, Father.

The kitchen... Your bedroom is upstairs.

I'll show you the dining room first.

Come with me.

There, that's better.

Perfect.

I told Mrs Belot the other day,

"The new priest's on his way.

I'll clean the presbytery."

She wanted to come too.

She's always meddling in others' business.

Mind your head.

Know what? I didn't turn her down.

The poor thing's always so alone.

I tidied up the garden too.

Things are growing
so fast after all the rain.

I found snails. Do you like snails?

Don't be shy now.

If there's anything
you don't like, tell me.

You'll be very happy here.

Look at this lovely view.

Lovely, isn't it?

This Christ that my love
turns to day and night...

His hand will be mine.

His eyes will be mine.

Through the Lord and with him,

I shall be the one who dwells within you.

Just as you will dwell within me.

I really loved your sermon, Father.

Just a few words I said in
prayer on arriving at the presbytery

to offer to my parishioners. Simple words.

Not at all, they were...

Thank you.

Thank you all.

My dear friends,

we all agree.

Nothing, as yet, justifies my decapitation.

So I think it's time to
begin my confession.

My biblical ambitions misunderstood,

I had to leave my last parish.

The diocese wished to isolate me.

But, in his goodness,

the Lord made the arid land
to which I had been condemned

into a splendid orchard.

Albon...

Was it not the ideal
village for the creation

of a divine and carnal terrestrial city?

From my first days here, I was sure of it.

Within this garden,

there was a generous spring

that sang sweetly in my ears without cease.

I confess to Almighty God, the
Virgin Mary and Saint Michael...

It's hard to say...

How can I put it?

No tenderness...

Not a word...

It was intoxicating to
hear their murmurs...

Disappointed, forgotten...

abandoned by love...

Cry no more, my pretty hearts.

Henceforth, a king is among you.

I saw appear upon the wall

that tree,

that plant emerging from my breast.

On each branch, all kinds of kings,

priests, prophets and warriors.

One holding a sword or a harp,

the other the crown.

A single tree, and a whole forest.

And, at the apex,

oh, such a flower...

So beautiful, so radiant, so pure,

so dazzling,

that I closed my eyes

and my heart broke.

- Tea is served, ma'am. - Very good.

- Well? - I like it.

I like it. It's beautiful.

Not his best-known play
but read it and tell me.

This is Armance.

A potential first queen of my realm.

However, that day of presages

saw an awkward incident.

I'm sure you have realized

that it's not easy to talk
literature with the locals.

I imagine such inconveniences
were rare in Lyons.

Certain parishioners shared books with me.

Here, we have Miss
Desboine, our schoolteacher.

A theatre lover, like you.

A true spinster but I like her.

My cousin Solange has a large library.

Her husband even has some rare editions.

Unfortunately, I've realized that they...

Good heavens! What dexterity!

I feel ridiculous.

I'm sorry, really, I...

It's all so ridiculous.

The thing is, sport

and in particular football
are, I must confess...

a childhood passion.

There are much worse sins!

I'm sorry, I got carried away.

- Did you scald yourself?
- I don't think so.

You're drenched.

Let me dry you off.

Here...

I feel you haven't finished surprising me.

Really, come and see the games you want.

You know what? It'll be our secret.

Our secret...

Dear Armance...

How I still love the echo
of those words in my ears!

Riding back, I thought
of my awkward acrobatics

that could have scuppered my plans.

Yet things went differently.

Not only did the chatelaine
open her gates to me,

but my sudden and
surprising lack of control

gave me a bright idea.

On this day of victory
for the national team,

I decided to enlist twelve young apostles.

- Sanchez, heads or tails? - Tails.

Tails.

Ready, gentlemen...

The joy of games at the club

I had just founded

would be matched by
great evangelical efficiency.

The thing was,

after each training session, my
twelve apostles sang my praises,

lauding their lord and
master's soccer lessons.

Victory or nothing.

The love of the colours.

The warrior spirit.

"We'll crush them!"

Reassured to see their offspring
trained in the ethics of football,

their fathers returned
to their occupations.

A good thing too

for, as you have understood,
this story can do without them.

As for the ladies...

The ladies...

Here they are.

Admiring...

Moved...

Dazzled by their brood's skills.

A high kick here,

a flick-on there...

My apostles shot, tackled,

and lobbed with such
passion that it was hard

for the mothers to remain cold.

From one mother to the next,

from one village wife to the next,

from one woman to the next,

the evangelization gained ground.

He's a sportsman who
will carry his love of Christ

all over the parish.

An athletic priest...

I should go to mass.

If he was less charming,
it wouldn't worry me.

But how can I put it?

I fetched my son from football
and the priest praised his playing.

He was breathing heavily as he spoke...

I feel sorry for you, riding
your bike all over our hills.

I'm not complaining.

I'd like to see you suffer less.

Surely not in a sports car?
Or, worse, on a motorcycle?

Why not? Let's go in.

Talking of motorbikes...
Do you know the Terrot?

The sound of its engine is a dazzling song.

I'm very impressed.

I'm sorry?

I'm impressed to see how

the people of the parish have adopted you.

With a few exceptions,

the football club delights
children and parents.

You're ingenious.

What do you mean?

Or, if you prefer, the idea is ingenious.

It's even ingeniously seductive.

I must say, you've focused
countless eyes on you.

I'm merely serving the parish.

And the parish ladies!

After your sermon last
Sunday, on leaving church,

a woman whom I shall
not name confided in me.

She spoke of you in
rather unfitting terms...

In frequenting you, I
find myself forgetting

that you're a priest.

I only see the man.

If I were to confess, I
would say it's troubling

but not unpleasant.

I'm touched by your words.

But one thing bothers me.

Your cassock is horribly present.

Perhaps, but it played
its part in our meeting.

True. And I shall respect it.

But not indefinitely.

Because, to tell the truth,
I'd rather see you near me

as naked as Saint Francis in his church.

In order, of course, to
cover you instantly with love.

My tale

could end here in the
heart of a pleasant parish,

at the head of a promising football club,

marked by luscious afternoons

in the shade of a sumptuous home.

But how could I have stopped there?

In this realm, everything
carried me forward.

I was walking on the waters.

I'm Réemi Berthon from Les Grives.

I know, my boy.

My mother sent me to fetch you for Louise.

The Berthons lived in a
humble farm outside the village.

Married to an incompetent,

the mother worked their
tiny plot of land alone.

On arriving there,

I felt saddened.

After a visit that night, the
doctor said their daughter,

young Louise, would not live much longer.

I couldn't accept it.

Have faith.

Have faith and pray for her.

My God!

- What's wrong? - It's Louise Berthon.

We must get her to hospital.

My God...

In the car carrying us to Lyons,

I understood the hidden
meaning of this trial.

I was so moved by this

that I had to discreetly wipe away a tear.

In his boundless kindness,

the Lord, my friend and accomplice,

had offered me this sick child.

You were so brave,
Father. I'm still moved by it.

The harvest would be a rich one.

The ladies of Albon...

My dear ladies of Albon...

Your modesty at such praise pleases me.

People can be a bit excessive.

They must thank the Lord.

"The souls of the just are in the
hand of God, safe from all torment."

That's in the Wisdom of Solomon.

A fine Bible text and also a great king.

Even so, you carried
the child in your arms.

That's true.

I felt your heroism

deserved a reward.

You're adorable!

You know the priest from the next parish,

don't you?

I've asked him to join
our little conversation.

Mantaille is very close and
he knows some of your flock.

And, moreover, he is a remarkable priest.

Now then...

We have heard that you
travel around by motorcycle...

A gift from the chatelaine.

You know, I was very happy and proud

to hear you saved that little girl.

But now you disappoint me.

Initially, I refused.

But ultimately accepted.

You must promise to return it.

I'll do it today.

I spoke to the generous donor.

She sees it as support for the Church.

A way to assist her confessor

in what she sees as
harsh and difficult work.

All that is highly debatable, isn't it?

Unless I'm a little "old hat",

as they say these days.

Is it possible to see

this machine?

I must admit it's a fine
piece of machinery.

I have no taste for such things.

Have you used it much already?

I saw every parishioner this week

when it usually takes me a month.

I felt I was wise to accept
but it was a mistake.

This is bothersome.

We sent you to this parish

expecting exemplary behaviour.

That is the case, Father.

Those sexual matters

that you were accused of in Lyons

must not turn into another vice, a more...

mechanical one.

After the unwarranted suspicion of Lyons,

I have found peace here...

that I shall not endanger
with this vulgar gift.

Monsignor,

receive my confession for being
tempted by the sin of covetousness

and for being too lazy to
travel the parish by bicycle.

I'm listening, my son.

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.

May the Lord guide your words
so that you may know your sins.

In the name of the Father,
Son and Holy Ghost.

I confess to Almighty
God, the blessed Virgin,

the Archangel Michael,
St John the Baptist...

No false confession was ever so sincere.

And, by the Lord's grace, so effective.

The vicar general allowed
me to use my motorbike.

The door was wide open
before me and I rushed at it!

For a whole year, alongside
my ministry and soccer,

I travelled my orchard to
harvest its patiently awaited fruit.

Allow me

to think of those happy days

and to pay tribute to its flowers in bloom.

As you know,

Armance gave our
lovemaking a literary bent.

Before her bookshelves,

love began as a pastourelle
and galloped towards the epic

to end in a lyrical ode
that left us speechless.

Solange...

An unsettling steam machine,

all Armance's cousin needed was a hot bath

for her engine to race
and ultimately explode

in a frenzied mechanical orgasm.

Desire the spiritual, pure
milk to attain your salvation,

the milkmaid seemed to preach,

inviting me to make love
in her husband's storeroom.

Driven by the animal
odour of the precious liquid,

I thus quenched my thirst.

Odette was very poor.

But, on raising her generous behind,

this modest Albon woman offered
my senses a priceless treasure

that enriched every minute of my nights.

Armance, Jacqueline, Solange, Odette...

How can I not thank Heaven
for granting me so much grace?

Happy as I was, I saw myself

at the dawn of a reign as long
and noble as King Solomon's.

But, in fact,

this golden age would be brief.

Clorinde, you are no more!

Alas, rather than fight you,

when a coward was about to strike you dead,

with such ardour I
repelled from your breast

the foul blow dealt by his hand,

I thus saved the victim from his rage

only to carry out myself such an outrage.

At your feet, your lover beseeches you

with tears of blood

he dampens your wound.

He would lay down his
life to obtain your grace.

Féelix!

Do you have to do that?

Forgive me.

I like it without the pause.

Miss Desboine, who is the director?

- You, but... - Thank you.

Féelix, you have a lot on your shoulders.

One day, you'll be Lear or Hamlet.

It's a lot of pressure.

But let's be realistic,

you're the only man in this theatre group.

Maybe that's not a bad thing.

But all the same...

We must face this challenge proudly.

Tell me, Féelix,

what's an actress for you?

A woman of easy virtue, I fear.

Not at all.

She's a hard worker.

Is it going well?

How can I thank you for hosting us?

It's a joy to see the barn
used as a theatre again.

You know Solange?

Yes, of course.

Your cousin, I think.

When we were girls,

we'd perform plays here that
we'd written for our parents.

Great works!

And the people of Albon?

They need practice, but I
hope to perform one day.

Armance, with this theatre,

I don't think I've ever been happier.

When I think of the pleasure
you gave me last night,

I tell myself the very same thing.

Everything changed course one Sunday.

The afternoon, the day's
sinner was boring me silly.

First, it was a man.

Second, he was pitying his
brother in the Algerian War,

a land outside my parish

that didn't interest me in the least.

The Lord grants you forgiveness and peace

and I hereby forgive all your sins.

Sleep...

Balm of hurt minds,

great nature's second course,

Chief nourisher in life's feast.

What do you mean?

Still it cried to all the house,

"Sleep no more!"

Quiet! Stop!

That wasn't good?

Come in.

Hello.

- Can I help you?
- I'd like to join your group.

It's open to all.

Have you ever...

I'd like to try.

She'd like to try. How charming!

Very good.

We're glad to welcome you.

I asked her name.

Her sweet lips parted...

Rose.

The blind little chick explained
her grandmother had a farm nearby.

She would be back for her later.

She had to milk her
goats. Milk her goats...

Perfect!

I offer her a seat: she
finds that kind of me.

Our small troupe is growing!

Rose has joined us.

We'll do the introductions later.

There's a chair right here.

There...

Very good.

Féelix, let's take it from
"Methought I heard..."

Methought I heard

a voice cry,

"Sleep no more!

Macbeth does murder sleep."

The innocent sleep...

Sleep...

the death of each day's life.

Sleep that knits up the
raveled sleave of care...

O, divine child...

Pure among the pure.

Lisette, I didn't see you.

Come with me, Father.

Garden peas...

You're not pleased?

I am, it's wonderful, Lisette.

They're the year's first.

Mrs Belot brought them and
I said I'd do them with bacon.

Sorry, I should be over the
moon, but for some reason I feel...

Sit down, Lisette.

I feel as if I'd won the French Cup

and the euphoria had
given way to emptiness.

- You had football today? - No, theatre.

Afterwards, I was
returning happier than ever

and, all of a sudden,

great lassitude overcame me.

I had to stop by the road.

It's wiser.

I sat there without moving.
My strength had drained away.

A sign of intense experiences...

and a promise of great things to come.

Not at all.

You're overworked, plain and simple.

Mrs Belot says you work too much.

On top of football, you have theatre now.

To balance the body and the mind.

That's no reason.

All this activity will wear you down

and your health will suffer.

Look...

You're trembling!

It's true, you're right.

It doesn't matter, Lisette.

It's because, in Heaven,

I see a pretty flower

about to bloom.

As the poor dear couldn't
afford books in Braille,

it was a joy for me to give her some.

For one sight transported
me more than any other:

my young intended's light
fingers caressing the pages.

Before such grace, I dreamt of
being alone at our theatre with her.

I was overcome by the sudden
urge to disrobe completely

and masturbate while watching
her pretty fingers on the page.

After all,

would my Queen of the Night even know?

But no such thing occurred.

I had to remain calm,

controlled,

patient...

Need I fear an innocent young girl

with such terribly blue eyes?

The farm where Rose lived was in the hills.

Her grandmother was seen in the village

but wasn't very talkative.

We simply knew she had
taken her granddaughter in.

Had Rose's parents rejected
her when she lost her sight?

Too poor

to pay for a place in a home?

In Albon, tongues were wagging.

As I was nearby, I dropped
in to bring a book for Rose.

She's in the upper orchard.

Go round the house and up the hill.

Very good. Thank you.

Shall I warm you some coffee?

- Water will do. - I'll bring it.

Here...

It's yours.

Victor Hugo.

"Ruy Blas". I haven't read it.

Thank you.

I'm touched by your gifts.

We could work on some
scenes with the group.

Particularly Act III, Scene iii.

The queen's monologue.

"Listen to me..." Is that it?

Yes, that's it.

Your grandmother's here.

Here, two glasses of water.

Thank you, ma'am.

Work hard.

- I'll leave you. - Thank you.

- Shall I read? - Absolutely.

You can start at "Duke,

Heaven has sent you for such a goal."

I'll say Don Céesar's little line.

Go on.

Duke, Heaven has sent you for such a goal.

To save the teetering state
and its oppressed people.

And love me as I suffer.

O Céesar, I give you my soul.

O Céesar, I give you my soul.

Queen for all, for you I am merely a woman.

Madame...

In my love, in my heart,
Duke, I belong to you.

I trust your honour to respect mine.

When you call me, I'll come.

I am ready.

O Céesar, a sublime mind rules you.

Be proud, for genius is your crown.

- A fine speech, isn't it? - Forgive me.

Your reading moved me.

You're crying!

My God...

As she fell into the trap,
I imagined kissing her

and even guiding her hand to a spot

where she would have felt
the effect that she had on me.

But she suddenly clipped my wings.

I'd like to ask you something.

I'd like to look at your face...

with my hands.

Please do.

What a strange feeling.

Touching me without touching me...

Caressing me without caressing me...

Seeing me without seeing me...

It was entirely new,

unfamiliar,

miraculous.

Something broke within me.

Great sweetness filled me.

You won't believe me

but tears welled up in my eyes.

Tears of blissful happiness.

This time, my friends,

I have to admit,

I was sincerely moved.

Serge...

Serge, congratulations.

You'll be the team captain.

Thank you, sir!

You've worked hard and listened to me.

"He who enters through the door

is the shepherd of the flock."

Congratulations.

How was it?

Good. Very good. Carry on.

We've finished, Father.

- What time is it? - 5 o'clock.

Do you know why Rose isn't here?

Does anyone know?

Why would we know, Father?

Don't just stand there,
carry on. Start again.

Will you agree to become my wife?

If my aunt wishes it.

Obviously, after theatre, I
went to Rose's, post haste.

But her grandmother had bad news for me.

Rose was refusing to see anyone.

Since going blind,

she went through long periods of isolation.

I insisted

but to no avail.

Just as I was about to
pluck my pretty flower,

I might have to go
weeks without seeing her.

So give me a quick kiss.

Sir, please wait until we are married.

After that, I'll kiss you all you want.

I've seen you so little lately.

I devote myself with passion to the parish.

All the same...

I'm surprised to find such
an athlete in this condition.

What's that?

Thyme herbal tea. Lisette.

That's a bit grim.

Add some pear brandy.

It'll taste better.

Without lemon

and elderflower,

you may as well drink water.

I can't smell a thing.

This is no good at all, you know.

Sage. But infuse it in milk.

I add a little honey but you don't have to.

Thank you, Odette.

I'll tell Lisette.

Just three cloves.

Boil in water, let it steep 24
hours and drink straight down.

It'll blow your socks off.

Wouldn't it have been
wiser to break the fever

by inviting my four
blooms to join me in bed?

I never even thought of it.

Unable to understand
the workings of my mind,

for the first time ever, I let myself

be overcome by intense melancholy.

Everything seemed dull,

lifeless,

sad, insipid...

I felt my strength had gone.

I was becoming fragile.

Fragile...

What a hateful word.

Hello, Lisette.

- Hello, Féelix. - How are you?

- Very well. - Just one today.

Have a good day, Lisette.

See you soon.

A letter, Father.

Coffee's ready.

What a letter! And so kindly delivered.

Lisette...

You're an angel.

I wish I was, but you know, Father,

the postman is our angel.

You are, Lisette.

I'll wait for you at home,
this Wednesday at midnight.

Please come here as discreetly as possible.

You'll find the front door unlocked.

Walk straight across the kitchen.

Quietly.

Very quietly.

Grandma is a light sleeper.

Wait for a second at my door,

in silence,

and leave again when the door closes.

Rose.

You are so beautiful, my sweet.

So beautiful.

The stars gazed down at me

but I felt alone in the world.

I thus busied myself, happy,

still marked by my holy
dove's luminous body.

At the climax,

my gaze met that of the heavenly vault.

Up there, Venus shone in all her glory.

"Love," I thought as I writhed.

That thought struck me so hard

that I wanted to see my joy pierce the sky.

I felt the sap rise...

and the dazzling fire of
the goddess carried me off.

We'll see next week.

- Goodbye. - Have a good Sunday.

I never imagined you could write a letter.

It's not easy but I so wanted to.

I'll be alone at the
farm all day on Monday.

I wanted to tell you
those hours will be ours.

Here...

Let me put my helmet down...

It's very pretty.

- It's your hair? - Yes, I cut it for you.

I'll be going.

Till Monday.

Lord, you open your hand

and satisfy every living being's desires.

In the cool of the day,
when the shadows lengthen,

I shall go to the mount of incense

and the hills of myrrh.

You are beautiful, my sweet.

So beautiful.

Your eyes behind your veil are doves.

Your teeth are like a flock of
ewes returning from washing.

Your lips

are like a scarlet thread

and your mouth is lovely.

Your cheek

is like a slice of
pomegranate behind your veil.

Your neck

is like the tower of David

on which are hung a thousand shields.

Your two breasts

are like two fawns
feeding among the lilies.

Your hair is like purple.

A king

is chained to these locks.

Receive this crown.

O Venus, my queen.

My God, such rapture.

Tell me, is young Rose a good student?

I saw her give you a bouquet.

As thanks for my work with the group.

You were very moved.

The word is too strong.

She's a minor.

Armance, don't imagine such
baseness where it doesn't exist.

You truly feel nothing for that girl?

Yes.

I swear.

I'm not the monster you think I am.

Look around. Aren't people happy?

I'm talking about you.

Me?

I'll come to you after football.

I'll dispel these dark thoughts.

Nothing to say?

I'm no longer your St Francis?

Come on, have faith.

They'll catch cold.

Promises are made to be kept.

After training, I went
straight to Armance's.

In next to no time, I brilliantly
dispelled her suspicions.

Over the next few days,
the bad weather set in.

But a few dark clouds
wouldn't dampen my high spirits.

Sure I was in control,

sure of myself, sure of my fate,

I accelerated and accelerated...

I think it's a write-off.

Shall I drive you to the village?

Father...

I believed I controlled my life's course

but I had to face the facts.

Here below,

perhaps I wasn't the decision-maker,

the alpha and omega,

the beginning and the end.

Mary Magdalene...

Who locked you in here?

You know...

if my little Rose were like you,

I'd still love her as much.

Hairs, hairs... Little hairs...

Hello.

Rose...

My Rose.

I have something important to tell you.

Really?

I didn't know if I should

but I think you ought to know.

The thing is...

I'm pregnant.

Pregnant?

I'm sure.

The doctor confirmed it.

I knew you'd take it badly.

Listen...

This is a bit complicated.

We need to discuss it serenely.

I'll come to see you tomorrow

and we'll talk calmly.

Obviously, that very day, I ran to the arms

of an old mistress to
forget this tragic moment.

Alas... How can I explain this?

Alas, nothing worked.

Even worse, I had to
bear more platitudes...

Don't look so glum.

I know you, remember.

I know what you're capable of.

What a tragedy!

Want a pick-me-up?

See you later.

Pica...

- Who's there? - It's me.

Come in, I'm alone.

Oh, my friends...

It's very hard for me to tell
you what happened there,

behind that door.

As in some cheap photo story,

everything was so hackneyed

and heard countless times before.

He, striving again to impress upon her

that she should abort.

She, obstinately insisting
on keeping this useless child.

He, losing patience with her.

She, daring to threaten him.

Yes,

threaten him.

After he gave her all his love.

She wanted to denounce
him if he forced her to abort.

I feel the gesture matched the
threat. As for my subsequent reaction,

I feel it was less ideal.

Sorry, I didn't mean to.

- Get out! - I'm sorry.

I won't do it again.

- Rose! My darling Rose! - Go away!

Let go!

Kiss me. I love you.

I love you.

You're hurting me!

Kiss me!

- You're hurting me! - Come here...

Let go of me!

Look at this lunatic.

Stark raving mad.

What can I say,

as you see me run like
crazy through the woods.

Recent images

were clashing uncontrollably in my mind.

I couldn't understand or
believe what had happened.

However, it was simple enough.

Clinging to my shoulders,

the filthy little imp was
dragging me to the abyss.

Hello, sir, this is for you.

- Please forgive me. - I never will.

I made the effort to come to you.

And you'll hear me out in the house of God.

Listen carefully. I'll only say this once.

If you try to see me again,

or try to approach me,

if you loiter near my grandmother's house,

if you try to meet me by
any means, I'll speak out.

Everyone will know
who this child's father is

and that you attacked me.

I was sorry.

I'll do penance.

- I'll be merciless with myself.
- Don't be so pathetic.

I never want to see you again.

I'll leave the church
now, but don't follow me.

Don't move until I have gone.

Farewell.

Lord...

with you...

we'll go into the wilderness.

On the evening of the fifth day,

hungry,

I suddenly saw

a table of my favourite
food appear before me.

But when I tried to take it,

I felt only stones beneath my hands.

On the seventh day,

I forget if it was an order from God

or my empty stomach

that urged me to dress again

and leave the wilderness.

It'll be hard to accept.

Especially on a Sunday.

It was good to come and act here together.

Besides,

the death of a theatre is sad.

Isn't it?

You don't agree?

We've finished.

You don't regret your decision?

It's such a pity.

There's something else.

We should stop seeing each other.

Thank you, but I think I realized that.

No, I mean as friends too.

It's too painful coming here
without the right to embrace you.

Please, spare me your lament.

- I have work. I'll go. - Listen!

Let's just say we need a little

distance.

I shall not hamper you in any way

and you're free to come
back to me when you want.

That may not be possible.

You love another.

You're wrong, I told you.

Allow me to doubt.

There's nothing between that girl and me.

Why must we part then?

I simply wish to devote
myself to my ministry.

This sudden seriousness
doesn't resemble you.

Yet it's the simple truth.

I have only one wish.

To become an ordinary priest.

Do you know what, Mr Priest?

Your banality

already bores me.

That autumn,

I resigned as coach.

The winter was icy.

In my mind,

everything seemed to have stopped,

fallen asleep...

And, with me,

the world itself.

With the return of spring,
I was brought out of limbo.

- I woke you. - I was just getting up.

If you have coffee, I have a brioche.

Come in.

Give me a minute to dress.

It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Have a seat. I'll make coffee.

Thank you.

Tell me...

Did you know Rose and
her grandmother were back?

I didn't know they had left.

Do you know why?

Imagine, the girl's pregnant.

The baby's due shortly.

There's something troubling about all this.

Something that bothers me.

We don't know who the father is.

Do you have a knife?

Yes, I'll fetch one.

So I was thinking, back when
you had your theatre group,

perhaps you saw her on her boyfriend's arm.

Not that I remember.

I confessed her grandmother.

The girl has told her nothing.

So I went to see her.

"It's all over," was all she would say.

"It's all over." Would
that have satisfied you?

I don't think so.

Together,

we'll manage to find out.

Lisette?

Is that you?

Here they are!

Sorry, sir.

Now everyone is here, we can go.

After these events, the
Lord came to test Abraham.

He told him,

"Abraham, take your son,

your only son, the one you love, Isaac.

Go to the land of Moriah and, there,

sacrifice him on the
mountain I indicate to you."

Abraham girded up his soul, took his son

and left for the place
indicated by the Lord.

Several days later,

they arrived at the mountain.

There, Abraham drew the sacrificial knife.

Isaac said to his father,

"Father, you have drawn the knife

but where is the sheep to sacrifice?"

"God will provide the sheep, my son."

Abraham attached Isaac
and carried him to the altar.

Laying his strong hand on the fragile face,

he bared the neck.

And then, armed with his knife,

he raised his hand to strike.

But the Lord's angel called from heaven,

"Abraham!

Do not lay a hand on your
son and do not hurt him

for now I know you didn't refuse

to sacrifice your own child.

I know that you fear the Lord, your God."

Sir...

It's raining.

Where is that key?

It has to be somewhere...

Maybe in here...

Father, you scared me!

The upstairs room is locked, Father.

Don't clean it anymore.

Don't worry about me.
I have enough energy...

That's not the issue, Lisette.

I don't want you doing that room for now.

As you wish...

I'll give you these then.

- Your meal is ready. - Goodbye, Lisette.

Good night, Father.

How to mend such disorder?

Rose could give birth here any day now.

I made myself a promise.

If it were to happen,

that room would be their tomb.

The Lord will perhaps
prefer a different outcome.

If that is the case,

as for Abraham,

he must hold back my hand.

The body of Christ.

Oh, my God...

Why have you abandoned me?

Dear God!

Mr Mayor!

Mr Mayor!

- My God! - Murdered.

Tell him to hurry, we need his help.

Father?

May I come in?

It's you, Lisette.

Your hands...

The mayor was here.

He'd like you to join
him down by the Brindille.

The gendarmes will be there too.

Rose...

You know, young Rose...

She has been found dead.

I'll leave you now.

The coffee's ready downstairs.

For a second,

I tried to understand,

but my mind was in turmoil.

The path travelled...

That foul bird outside
her grandmother's house...

The silence

after the first blows...

The smell of the mud by the Brindille...

And then sudden emptiness.

A black hole.

As if returning from nowhere,
my return to the presbytery.

And this morning, on waking,

the images of the night returned.

Strange...

Unreal...

Her open belly...

And that thing...

That accursed thing...

that I had to pull out,

baptize,

kill,

disfigure...

The evening of my arrest, a
shroud fell over the countryside.

And that black veil never lifted.

Today too, I don't hear the city awake.

No clamour,

no noise...

Nothing.

I shall now fall silent

and you who have
listened to me so patiently,

you'll return home.

On your way back,

light a little cigarette, walk slowly...

You'll have time to ponder my story.

I can hear the disbelievers
stubbornly making me the ideal culprit.

But I forgive them.

We all have our weak points.

In any case, whatever your verdict,

know this at least:

I lied about nothing.

I take that certainty with me to the grave.

Within the darkness, it
will be, my dear friends,

my precious little belonging.

Subtitles by Ian Burley, a.s.i.f.

Subtitling: TITRA FILM Paris