All language subtitles for The.Forgiven.2022.MULTi.VFF.HDR.2160p.WEB.H265-FW_track6_[eng]

♪

♪

L'Afrique.

♪

[lively music playing]

To Tangier.

- Tangier. Hey.
- Tangier. -Tangier.

How can it take this long to
sort out a car, for fuck's sake?

It's Morocco, not Milton Keynes.

- Hey!
- What's the matter?

I hope we aren't staying here.

Mm.

We'll stay on the way back.

Might be interesting.

Interesting in a good way
or interesting in a bad way?

[sighs]

JO:
It's 400 miles to Azna.

DAVID:
Long way to go for a party,

but then they're more
your friends than mine.

JO:
That'll be news to Richard.

♪

[tapping]

♪

DAVID:
Look at them.

Continental wildebeest.

You'd think
they hadn't eaten in days.

Maybe they don't give them
any sandwiches on those buses.

Should you still be drinking?

It's just a glass.

You'll finish the bottle,
like you always do.

- Why am I thinking harpy?
- [laughs]

Why am I thinking shrill?

Why am I thinking
highly functioning alcoholic?

I've always thought
the highly functioning part

should cancel out
the alcoholic part.

You know,
like a double negative.

Besides, the roads are empty.

♪

[door closes]

It's not a military timetable.

Do you want to stay
here tonight?

I want to get to Richard's.

It's all right.

- They treat their women
like donkeys. -Shh.

To them, you are just
an escaped donkey.

You know I hate it
when you say things like that.

- Well, it's true, isn't it?
- It doesn't matter if it is.

No, I'd say it matters.
I'd say it matters very much.

You have no idea
how they treat their women.

- None.
- [chuckles]

- Ah, ah, monsieur?
- Oui?

Ah...

[chuckles]

Ah, merci.

JO: Damn Internet.
Face it, David, we're lost.

DAVID:
We're not lost.

We just have to find
the turnoff to Azna.

Is this the right road?

There's only one road.

We just passed through Midelt.
We should turn towards Tafnet.

I don't see any other road
that might fit...

They didn't say anything
about Tafnet.

- Doesn't matter, this is the
right... -We left too late.

- Yes, of course, it's my fault.
- Because you insisted on...

Just change the bloody record,
would you?

I'm going to call Richard.

No, we're not calling
bloody anyone.

Must be one of the guests.

But what if they're not?

They're white, aren't they?

Hmm.

♪

DAVID:
Strange, they didn't stop.

What if we'd had a crash?

They didn't even slow down.

- That's the turn.
- No, it's not.

- This is the turn.
- No, David.

- Don't be so bloody stupid.
- [tires squeal]

[thud]

[talking indistinctly]

♪

[singing in native language]

[others join in singing]

Cocktails, sir.

TOM: Shukraan, merci.
Fuck it, whatever.

Hey, why don't you hop on? Huh?

My wife ran off
with a hedge fund manager.

Oh, I did that once.

How'd it work out?

He let me keep the condo
in Cabo.

♪

You like the music?

It's very unique.

No, it's not.

They used to play it on every
floor of every Virgin Megastore.

[sputters]

Oh, you're one of those people.

Oh... maybe.

Okay, bye-bye.

- [music ends]
- [applause]

Uh, thank you.

Thank you, thank you.
Thank you. Shut up.

Ladies and gentlemen,
uh, your attention, please.

Thank you all for attending

our little soirée
out here in the desert.

This magnificent edifice

in which you'll be staying
is what's known as a qsar.

That's Arab for "castle."

- Thank you, Dally.
- [scattered cheers]

The renovation proceeds at pace.

Dally and I never thought
it would turn out so well.

The renovation's
a complete farce.

And we couldn't have done it
without the wonderful help

- of our little Moroccan friends.
- [cheering]

Baksheesh.

So, look.

We hope you'll find this place
a vision of paradise.

A place in which to receive
the people we love.

But enough waffling.

Dinner will be served promptly
at 11:00, at which point,

I encourage you to try
the pastry stuffed with sardines

created by our chef,
monsieur Ben.

Sensational.

In the meantime,
please sample the honey.

It's the best in the world,
and locally sourced.

And don't forget the figs,

traditionally representative
of a woman's vagina.

[laughs]
Or so we've been told.

[scattered laughter]

- Slainte. -Slainte.
- Slainte.

[cheering, whooping]

- [dog panting]
- Dicky.

Hey, Tom.

I didn't see you there.

Did one of the boys
get you a drink?

Can't be in a library
without a drink.

Haven't seen anyone.

Maybe that's sorting out
the quail.

Speaking of quail,
did you bring a hotsy-totsy?

- Girls won't touch me
these days. -Eh.

What about boys?

Dally tells me you have
a thousand girlfriends.

I've got three
and they all hate me.

You should get down to the pool.

Have you seen those Russians?

- Oh, là l.
- [voice mail beeps]

David, it's Richard.

Where the bloody hell
have you and Jo got to?

Call me.

Who's that?

[sighs]
Old friend.

He's an alcoholic.
I shouldn't have let him drive.

Do people get lost driving here?

All the time.
We say it's part of the charm.

TOM:
You have an impressive house.

RICHARD:
I have an eye for Islamic art,

my time at Christie's.

Why don't you live here
all year round?

One has to get a little older
before moving to the desert.

Dally's not ready yet. I am.

- [screaming]
- ♪

[laughing]

♪

[people cheering, whistling]

I take it you're not
a friend of...

I'm here on assignment
to do a profile.

But I'm really only here
because of Leila Tarki.

I have no idea who that is.

You don't know Leila Tarki?

The Moroccan auteur?

She's the coolest.

She's only here to raise
financing for a new movie.

Oh, movie, huh?

What's it about?

Nomads.

Nomads. Right.

At least it's not
about refugees.

One thing to be thankful for.

Nomads are going to save us.

Are they?

They have the right
environmental ideas.

Leila says I look like a nomad.

♪

[gong sounds]

[low, indistinct conversations]

[oud playing upbeat melody]

We were driving along there,

and we saw a couple
by the side of the road.

Oh, we thought
they'd just had sex.

This is the Henningers,
the English couple?

Yes, I suppose. Uh...

Could have been bandits
dressed as English people.

Or English bandits.

Plenty of those around...

of the "ass" variety.

Are you gay as well?

Oh, no, I'm not,

but I fucked a man who is.

- Were they having an argument?
- I don't know.

They're not here though,
are they?

[gentle clinking]

[thumping]

Thank you, Dally. Friends.

Life is but a sport
and a pastime,

as the Koran tells us.

And because it is a game
and nothing more,

we forget that the point of life
is death.

So, eat, drink, be merry,
for tomorrow we die.

[scattered cheering]

A little hackneyed, my love.

[oud continues playing
in background]

What do you think
of the outfits?

I designed them myself.

Completely authentic.

Are they?

Yeah, they are.

They may as well be statues.

What's that supposed to mean?

What kind of name is Dally?

It's a nickname, ma'am.

An insult or an endearment?

- Take your fucking pick.
- [laughs]

[speaking low, indistinctly]

What?

Dicky.

Good God.

Hit him on the road.
It's very unclear.

Unclear?
Why would it be unclear?

They say he was selling fossils
by the side of the road.

He stepped out
and they hit him by accident.

But there has never
been a fossil seller

on that road at night.

Or during the day,
that's why it's unclear.

Anyone recognize him?

No, he's not from here.

He's from the south.

What about the tattoo?

A diamond.

[speaks Arabic]

It is for protection
against the evil eye.

Didn't bloody work then, did it?

Lay him out somewhere.

HAMID:
The garage?

Yes, the garage. Good idea.

We don't want the guests
getting wind

there's a body on the premises.

Last thing we need.

Shall we clean out the car?

No, we have to call the police
in Taza.

Smashed headlights,
smashed bumper.

Must have been going
a fair clip.

An accident, they said.

You believe them?

They are your guests.
How am I not to believe them?

But do you,
in fact, believe them?

I think they're scared.

And I'm thinking of a proverb.

Go ahead.

I like a good proverb.

Open your door to a good day

and prepare yourself
for a bad one.

[footsteps approaching]

David.

Richard.

How are you feeling?

Bloody hot.

It's the Sahara, old boy.

I know it's the fucking Sahara.

- Ah. [sniffles]
- RICHARD: Ah.

JO:
You're dressed for dinner.

[sniffles]

So, the world's still normal.

You should get changed,
both of you.

Get changed.

Have a shower,
come down for dinner.

Police will be here in an hour.

I know the officer in charge.
It'll be a formality.

Oh, a formality.

How did it happen?

You should tell me
before we tell the police.

Get everything ironed out.

We were bowling along
looking for the sign for Azna.

And there was a lot of sand
blowing across the road.

I couldn't see.

He just stepped out
in front of us

like he didn't understand
the speed of a car.

The fact is we hit him.

We hit him and we killed him.

Well, the main thing is
to come clean,

cooperate with the police

and seem overwhelmingly
contrite.

We can do that, can't we?

Mm-hmm.

If it's absolutely necessary.

David.

DALLY:
Poor fucking kid.

When are the cops getting here?

They arrive when they arrive.

"They arrive
when they arrive."

- What kind of fucking...?
- [door opens, closes]

Now, this is a fucking disaster.

RICHARD:
Have you checked his pockets?

Yeah, nothing in 'em.

No ID, not a single
dirham note, nothing.

It's highly unusual for a
Moroccan not to be carrying ID.

You're telling me.

DALLY: Hey, where are those
fuckers anyway?

Dinner.
Putting a brave face on things.

Was he drunk?

I don't know.

They ran right over him.

The kid wasn't just hit,
am I right?

Am I right?!

What are we going to do?

I mean, you called the cops.

Now it's going to be
a fucking circus.

What would you suggest we do?

Get it settled tonight,
pay 'em off.

They'd have to find out
who he is.

If they find that out,
things might change.

Jesus. [exhales heavily]

Are you kidding?

I don't think we have anything
to worry about.

It's clear what happened.

Oh, it is, is it?

'Cause I don't think
it's clear at all.

I think that Limey
is hiding something.

Any chance to fuck with us
and they will.

- Who?
- The Moroccans!

They'll...
The family will show up

and they will fuck with us!

They'll say the infidels
killed their boy.

Which would be true.

We were saying
you must have had an accident.

A flat tire.

People always get flat tires
out in the desert.

Mm-hmm.

We all felt sorry for you.

A flat tire in the dark.

What a drag. Was it?

Can't you see they want to eat?

No, it's all right.

We just need some time
to recover.

People disappear here.

They just vanish.

Did the Arabs molest you?

I'm sorry,
I didn't get your, um...

Enchanté.

She's a nomad.

LEILA:
Did you pass Beni Mellal?

We came through Midelt.

It's a different road.

- Did you get lost?
- We didn't get lost.

It was just a long
slog of a drive.

It's the road
most of us came on.

Yes, but we didn't know it.

We didn't know
which turning it was.

So, it wasn't a flat tire.

You were just lost.

JO:
Not exactly.

We hit a Moroccan on the road
and we killed him.

It was an accident.

He stepped out in front of us.

I think you're wanted.

I can't understand
why you did that.

Was it to humiliate me?

You can't keep pretending
forever. Why lie to them?

But it wasn't our fault, was it?

I mean, you don't seriously
expect me to take the fall

for this just because
some fucking carjacker

decided to shoot the two of us.

- Carjacker.
- Carjacker, yes.

- You haven't been following
the news. -[Jo sighs]

I have.

[camera shutter clicks]

You have a practice in Chelsea,
monsieur Henninger.

Um, yes, that's...

Yes.

And you, madam?

You write children's books,
I believe?

Not very successful ones,
I'm afraid, Captain.

I'm sure you're
just being modest.

May I have a title I could
look up for my children?

The last one was called
Balthazar's Nighttime.

It's a little pretentious.

Ah, but it is charming.

Do you not find,
monsieur Galloway?

Charming.

This man you killed--

boy, I should say--

he was a fossil seller?

Yes. But, I mean, it was clear

he wasn't interested
in selling us fossils.

How could he be?

This time of night.

Middle of bloody nowhere.

People here are desperate,
monsieur Henninger.

They would do almost anything
to sell a single fossil.

40 euros is a good sum for them.

I'm aware of that,
I-I know they're poor.

We're really very sorry
about this, Captain.

We're devastated, to be honest.

[sniffles]

Mm. Yeah, devastated.

I'm sure you are.

By the way, I was wondering.

You are sure there
was only one boy?

They often travel in pairs.

Uh, yes, one boy.

- You are sure?
- Yes, we're sure. -Mm-hmm.

Good.

We will record it
as an accidental death.

You'll take the body with you?

No, we cannot do that.

We do not have a morgue
at our post.

There'll have to be
arrangements made tomorrow.

I hope you can enjoy the rest of
your weekend, monsieur Galloway.

The fire-eaters from Taza
are arriving tomorrow.

CAPTAIN:
Splendid.

[strums chord]

What do we make
of the Henningers?

MAISY:
She's all right.

Not sure about him.

Typical bourgeois.

What are you doing?

Stepping on diamonds.

It's taboo.

I hope the genies
get pissed off.

God's sake, David.

Oh, I hate all this ethnic
pretense and affectation.

You can treat people decently

without rolling their carpets
out everywhere.

Bloody kitsch.

DAVID:
A drink drink?

Hmm?

Hot chocolate's good.

Yum.

[bellowing in distance]

I don't like the sound
of those dogs.

They should drive them off.

I think they're wild camels.
I heard one of the staff...

Staff? Servants, you mean?

Oh, whatever.

They should still
drive them off.

Camels bite.

They-they do.

They like to bite people
in the stomach.

It's the leading cause
of death among the Arabs.

The police will do nothing.

And what do you
expect them to do?

I heard one of the boys saying
his legs were pulped.

The dead man.

Pulped?

They didn't just hit him,
they run over him.

Maybe more than once.

Bullshit.

What do they call it
in your country?

- They have a word for it?
- Roadkill.

I think we should
get some sleep.

Why?

[chuckles]
I'm loosening up finally.

The sun's going to be up
in a few hours,

and I want to sleep it off.

They won't come back.

The police.

Did Richard bribe them?

Eh, possibly.

It's actually a huge hassle
for them.

So much paperwork involved.

And I hate to say it...

- No, you don't.
- Mm.

I hate to say it,
but the kid is a nobody.

He's from a village far away
and no one knows who he is.

No ID. No witnesses.

So, that's that.

That's that.

[groans]

Where the fuck am I?

♪

♪

Morning.

You forgot the honey.

Madame?

Never mind.

Do you have any idea
where my husband is?

Horse riding.

Horse riding.

Have I told you how much
I admire your boots, ladies?

They give one something
to grab hold of, don't they?

Given half a chance.

Have I told you how loathsome
I find you, monsieur Henninger?

You didn't mention it, no.

Please call me David,
if you're going to insult me.

I'd slap your bottom for you
but I know you'd just enjoy it.

I certainly would.

I must say I'm enjoying
this little threesome immensely.

DAVID:
Ah.

Very picturesque, I suppose,
in a banal sort of way.

MAISY: Why did Richard
and Dally come here?

Gays have always come
to North Africa,

usually to bugger
little Arab boys.

- It's an Edwardian tradition.
- Mon dieu.

That is such an offensive
thing to say.

Interesting,
you said it was offensive,

not that it wasn't true.

I thought Richard
was a friend of yours.

He is. And I was speaking
historically.

Oscar Wilde, André Gide,
Joe Orton, Allen Ginsberg,

William Burroughs...

I mean, I could go on and on.

Pederasts, the lot of them.

You're a real shit-stirrer,
aren't you, David?

Well, it passes the time in
an increasingly tedious world.

As I was saying to Richard...

Fuck!

Little shit.

[horses neighing]

[David grunts]

MAISY:
Oh, my God.

[boys chattering, laughing]

Nice hat.

I got it in Casablanca.

"Made in China."

What were you doing
in Casablanca?

I was playing Ping-Pong with
a hooker at the Tahiti hotel.

I've heard about that
kind of Ping-Pong.

Hookers find me irresistible.
Want to know why?

You smell of money?

[laughs softly]

Did she do anal?

What's the point of a hooker
if she doesn't do anal?

I'm going to tell your mother
you said that.

My mother would be fascinated.

- Have you been here before?
- Huh-uh.

We never get away.

David works all the time.

His patients
are all rich old bags

who harass him mercilessly
around the clock.

This is a strange place
for a holiday home. Right?

It's like they're living out
some kind of fantasy, I guess.

I like it here.

It feels like a country where
a useless man could be happy.

And are you a useless man?

[sighs heavily]

I follow the way of the Buddha.

It's good to know that
there are other useless people

in this world.

- Besides me.
- [laughs]

[birds screeching]

TOM:
We should get out of the sun.

Before you start to bleed.

I don't bleed very easily.

We were riding the trail
and they were waiting for us.

- Could have been nasty.
- Could have been nasty?

- It was nasty, little cunt.
- Oh.

I've always said
they're an irrational people.

Didn't like seeing me
on the horse, I expect.

Thought I was enjoying myself.

Mm-hm. Weren't you?

That's not the point.

Is it against the law to unwind
after a traumatic event?

Here.

Some kids from the other side
of the valley, apparently.

Everyone's heard about it.

Heard about what?

The accident.
What do you think?

Give it here.

They're insatiable gossips.

It's a function
of being illiterate.

[sighs]

What a nice little Fascist
you've become

since being hit by a stone.

Is that all it takes?

They could have blinded me.

I could have been
bloody disfigured.

♪

DALLY:
They're heading this way.

RICHARD:
It's not the police.

Haven't heard from them.

DALLY:
Mint suppliers?

RICHARD:
Came this morning.

- Maybe someone from the morgue.
- Do they even have morgues?

Don't they just throw the body
in a pit or something?

There's a morgue in Errachidia.

Might be a pick up from them.

I wish you hadn't invited
the Henningers.

What a bore they are,
and what a mess they've made.

- Did you see his shoes?
- Are they a bore?

Oh, they're a horrible bore.

I guarantee you they're the only
ones who don't dress up tonight.

They'll claim they have
post-traumatic stress disorder,

- or some other shit. -I'm sure
that is what they have.

Let's face it, babe.

Pirates, a bit cheesy,
a bit fucking '80s.

You always pooh-pooh my ideas.

It's hardly keeping
with the aesthetic though.

You-you always
pooh-pooh my ideas.

And they're not just pirates.

They're buccaneers and wenches
and sexy swashbucklers.

All right, just as long as

they don't end up
plundering any of my paintings.

You're right about
the Henningers, babe.

We should've invited
the Bainbridges instead.

Yeah, they're genuinely wacko,

and they don't kill people
on the way up.

♪

The father?

You'll leave him kneeling
there all day?

They are Aiït Kebash.

So...

They will try to extort money
from you.

DALLY:
Where do the Aiït Kebash live?

HAMID:
Far. Far out.

Then they've come a long way.
Open the gate.

They will blackmail you.

The men of the desert
know everything.

No, they don't.
They just assume the worst,

which makes them right
nine times out of ten.

[gate latch clanks]

[flies buzzing]

[speaking low, indistinctly]

What?

He said the Englishman must pay.

Fuck that.

Pay the old crow.

Make him go away.

You don't pay someone for
an accident, for fuck's sake.

You don't even know
how much he wants.

It might just be
a thousand euros.

- Or a fuck of a lot more.
- That's nothing for us.

It's blackmail.

- [sighs]
- So what if it is?

What's the word for blackmail
in their language?

If they even have one.

You think villagers in the
Sahara are living in shit

in the same way we do?

It's the principle of the thing.

It's the principle of the thing
plus a thousand euros.

That seems like a pretty good
deal for the cost of a life.

Well, I know
when I'm being robbed.

You're not being robbed--
you're being spared.

Why? What are they going
to do to me?

[chuckles]:
Lynch me?

Public castration?

I wasn't thinking about
them lynching you,

and I wasn't thinking about
them cutting off your cock.

I was thinking about them
not going away.

Of course,
your precious weekend. Mm.

Mustn't forget
your bloody party.

What about contacting
the consulate in Casablanca?

I don't think
you're really considering

your own best interests.

If we contact the consulate,

there'd have to be a thorough
look at this whole thing,

and I mean thorough.

I don't think you want that.

I would welcome the consulate...

No, David,
I don't think you would.

- Fine, I'll go.
- No.

I would like to pay
my respects anyway.

No. That is absolutely
out of the question.

You know how these people are.

It'd make things
so much more awkward.

Well, we wouldn't want
to make things awkward.

["Bip Bip" by Gwen
and John D. Loudermilk playing]

Ah, I see
Lord Swanthorne's arrived.

♪

Do you know him?

From the club.

Perfect parasite,
but amusing in his way.

Mm-hmm.

♪

RICHARD:
So, how's the practice?

- Not too good.
- Huh.

Bit of a dearth of skin cancers
in London at the moment?

I was sued by a patient.

Old woman in Chiswick.

Cost me an arm and a leg.

Oh, dear. I didn't hear.

No, you didn't.

It's my life.

If it goes wrong, I'd rather
it went wrong in private.

What happened?

Forensic fuck up.

Didn't spot the tumors
for what they were.

Human error.

And the old woman...

She's dying.

Ah, sorry.

So it cost her
an arm and a leg, too, then.

RICHARD: Your boy
probably won't know any English.

You speak French, don't you?

Of course
I speak fucking French.

You sure you're ready for this?

[door opens]

[quiet muttering]

After you.

He says he will speak to me.

Perhaps because
you're not believers.

- Oh, here we go.
- No, it's fine.

Go ahead.

He wants you to return with them
to bury the boy.

What the fuck?

And if you're a man of honor,
you will do it.

It is customary in these parts.

Is it customary
in these parts?

These are not the people I know.
They're Berber.

If they say it is their custom,
I have to believe them.

Did he did mention money?

No, but it will be understood.

We don't speak of such things.

David has to know the amount.

I cannot ask him that.

Monsieur David just has to take
a certain amount with him.

Monsieur David hasn't agreed
to this absurd plan.

Go back with him to his village?
Are you bonkers?

It may be
you don't have a choice.

He's not entirely asking you.

He's being polite,
but I think he will insist.

Going back to their village for
a night and paying your respects

would be a bloody sight easier
than anything else.

You'll be back
in a couple of days.

Has it occurred to you, Dicky,

that he might actually be
planning something a lot nastier

than anything
you can anticipate?

Since he thinks I bunked off
his fucking kid, and all that?

You're exaggerating, monsieur.

Am I? Am I really?

Yeah. Yeah, you are.

They won't pull any stunts.

They're afraid
of the Moroccan police.

Well, they might be
fucking ISIS for all I know.

Are you this paranoid
all the time?

I don't hear you
volunteering, Yank.

That's 'cause I didn't kill him.

Well, I didn't fucking kill him.

He just stepped out
in front of me.

His name was Driss.

Yes, I...

Driss.

DAVID [quietly]:
Driss, right.

What does it matter?

One way or the other...

everyone thinks
I'm guilty anyway.

My, what a jolly weekend
this has turned out to be.

Tout de suite.

["Dans les yeux d'EÉmilie" plays]

♪

[chattering happily]

[music and chattering continue]

How'd it go?

Dicky and the Arab servant

have cooked up
a perfectly wonderful wheeze.

I'm to go back
with the old geezer

to his village in the middle of
nowhere and do some atonement.

Fuck that. They could be ISIS
for all we know.

Yeah, that's what I said.

Didn't go down too well.

I had to smooth things over.

What'd you say?

I agreed to go.

Everyone seems to think
it's the only thing to do.

And I imagine
it might get nasty.

H-How was he, the-the father?

Inscrutable.

And it's just-just you
that has to go?

Just me.

They're probably worried you'll
get your period or something.

The man just lost
his son, David.

I'm sure that
they have their rituals,

just like everyone else.

Maybe it's a good idea.

We don't want the police
showing up again,

poking their noses
into everything.

No, I suppose we don't.

May I remind you, Jo,
you got into a car with a drunk,

which makes you an accessory
before and after the fact.

Ah, funny that.

I feel like I've been an
accessory for a long time now.

♪

I'm sure Richard wouldn't let
you go if there was a risk.

It'll be fine.

A little jolly in the desert.

Might even enjoy myself,
who knows?

Probably just wants closure,
that's all.

That's what people always
want these days.

It's like being on
fucking Oprah.

A bit of an outdated
reference, Oprah.

Oh, was it?
Oh, I'm sorry.

I do apologize.

You know, that that's
what he wants, right?

- The father.
- What?

He wants you to apologize,
to say that you're sorry.

Well, I'll say I'm sorry.

Are you sorry?

I'll say I'm sorry.

Oh, shit.
I forgot about...

[explosions]

Oops.

[woman whoops]

[continues whooping]

[laughing giddily]

[fireworks popping, crackling]

[popping and crackling stop]

[partygoers cheering, laughing]

[cheering and laughter continue]

RICHARD:
What's in the bag?

Clean shirt, clean socks,
clean underwear.

I feel like I'm being packed
off to boarding school.

Probably going to need
the clean underwear.

- Oh, the rent boy made a joke.
- RICHARD: Now, now.

Cash?

A thousand euros.

That's all they're getting.

Take care out there, stumblebum.

RICHARD:
Right.

Remember, David,
you can't show fear

or discomfort
in front of these people.

You have to show
indifference to both.

I'll try to bear that in mind.

I expect one of them will give
you a ride back afterwards.

If not, give us a call,
and we'll figure something out.

You've got your mobile?

Oh, will-will it work out there?

Of course it will.

[engine starting]

Let me know you're all right.

RICHARD:
Good luck, old man.

RICHARD:
Poor sod.

It'll be a difficult
couple of days.

It'll certainly be
an experience for him.

I'll call in a couple of hours.

Make sure they haven't
raped him.

Richard.

Kidding.

What?

- You're terrible.
- [laughs]

♪

Would you like a cigarette?

French, not Moroccan shit.

No. No.

Thank you.

Your wife is very pretty.

I will have a gazelle
like that one day.

Inshallah.

["Che m'importa del Mondo"
by Rita Pavone plays]

♪

You don't look like a pirate.

- I'm supposed to be Dionysius.
- Oh.

None of these illiterates
even know who that is.

God of drink and drugs
and madness.

Then I have an audience of one.

What else should I know?

He was once kidnapped
by pirates,

- hence the reference.
- Mm. Mm-mm.

A cult grew up around him.

His followers were said
to be cannibals.

They symbolically ate his
flesh and drank his blood.

No, I'm pretty sure you're
thinking of Roman Catholics.

[Tom chuckles]

Shouldn't you be wearing a toga?

There's getting into the spirit
of the thing

- and then there's going too far.
- [laughs]

The pirate costume didn't
suit me anyway.

- Hmm.
- I looked like Johnny Depp.

Much more handsome, less
bloated Johnny Depp, obviously.

Obviously.

You're a writer,
Dicky was saying?

Mm, not sure about that anymore.

I haven't written a word
in eight years,

and all of my books
have been forgotten

by the world's
feckless children.

And that doesn't bother you?

It's a relief.

I guess every artistic career
has a few moments of visibility,

followed by a long, painful
descent into total anonymity.

I'm sure some feckless child
of the future

will pick up one of your books
and rescue you from oblivion.

No one's going to be reading
books in 50 years,

let alone a thousand.

And the children of the future
will all be empty-headed clowns,

just like the children
of the present.

[Tom chuckles]

I'm going to go out on a limb

and assume
you don't have any kids.

[laughing]

What about you?

Not about kids, your work?

Oh.

Mm.

Financial analyst.

What does a financial analyst
actually do,

if they actually do anything?

We buy, we sell.

And every ten years or so,

you get it all
catastrophically wrong.

[laughs quietly]

I guess that's right.

- Sounds like fun.
- It is.

[laughs]

[changing stations]

[man chanting
in foreign language over radio]

[sighs, speaks Tamazight]

We are nearing Erfoud,

the largest oasis
in North Africa.

From here come
the royal family of Morocco.

Well, I'm a big fan of royalty.

I always have been.

Prince Andrew,
Mohammed bin Salman.

Wonderful people.

He says we will go to the hotel.

No one can drive across
to Alnif in the dark.

I'll take your word for it.

[man continues chanting
over radio]

[drums play rhythmically]

RICHARD:
Come on, bunny.

Don't worry. He'll be all right.

He's probably having a joint
with the Aiït Kebash as we speak.

[chuckles]
They're incorrigible potheads.

He'll be stoned the whole time.

Easy for you to say.

You're not being driven
into the desert

to a place
that you can't pronounce.

Do you, you know where it is
on the map?

I don't care where it is
on the map.

Fuck him, anyway.

- Ruined my night.
- [Jo sighs heavily]

Don't sulk, sweetie.

We'll have a good
old-fashioned blowout tomorrow

to make up for it.

You know the school
David and I went to?

There was a story
did the rounds.

There'd been an incident
on Parents' Day.

One of the boys started
throwing mice off the rooftop

at the masters down below.

But each mouse was equipped
with a little parachute

decorated with a swastika.

[Dally laughs]

Parachutes didn't work,
obviously.

The poor mice hurtled to their
deaths against the flagstones

with the swastikas
draped over them.

- Oh. That's terrible.
- [Dally laughing]

Why would someone
do something like that?

Children aren't really
that well-versed

in the principles
of aerodynamics.

No, I-I mean the swastikas.

Kid was probably vilifying
the masters as Nazi types.

- Mm.
- Or he just liked swastikas.

Story was,
it was David who did it.

No.

Is that true?

I couldn't say for sure.

Before my time.

But I heard they caned him
for it anyway.

Beat him black-and-blue.

[partygoers exclaiming]

RICHARD:
Now, listen.

Are you going to mope
all weekend

or are you going
to enjoy yourself?

Yeah. It's not a crime
to enjoy yourself, you know.

I suppose I can make the effort.

Attagirl.

[brakes squeaking]

[turns off engine]

♪

What are you doing?

It is not fitting.

Please, I'm sure you understand.

I will order you a Coke.

There is a room upstair
where you can sleep.

We rise again at 5:00.

I will come for you.

[mutters]
No, no. No, no.

No, merci.

No.

- DAVID: No.
- Tiens. Monsieur.

[phone line ringing]

- DAVID: No.
- Monsieur.

Monsieur.

[phone line ringing]

[quietly]:
Oh, for fuck's sake.

AUTOMATED VOICE MESSAGE:
The person you have dialed

cannot be reached.

[phone line beeping]

[scoffs]
Bloody knew it.

RICK:
Everyone is alive right now.

Everyone's made it this far.

We've all done
the worse kinds of things.

Liar.

Oh, Christ.

♪

[laughing]

Oh, I heard there was
an accident last night.

Was somebody hurt?

Friend of mine from London
got lost on the road.

David Henninger.

Oh, that's who that was.

- Thought I recognized him.
- Mm.

One of the Arabs
stepped out in front of him.

- Kaput.
- Mm.

Where's Henninger now?

We sent him
into the desert to die.

ANOUAR:
Did you sleep?

DAVID:
Eventually.

Did you dream?

No.

I mean, I...

I can't remember.

I had a very strange dream.

DAVID:
Oh, yeah?

I dreamed I was...
I was a butterfly.

How do you know
that you are not a butterfly...

dreaming that you are a man?

Hmm. I like that.

Well, it's not one of mine.

[chuckles]
Chinese fellow said it.

[spits]

ANOUAR:
Hmm.

♪

Yes?

Madame, monsieur Day
has sent you a card.

You can leave it on the table.

Monsieur Day says
I must wait for a reply.

You serious?

Yes, madame.

You can call me mademoiselle.

TOM:
Papayas for breakfast.

How the hell do they do it?

No point in having contacts
in the Ministry of Interior

if you can't get fresh papaya.

[chuckles]

What happened to the raw egg?

I couldn't stomach it.

Boosts your libido.

My libido's fine,
Mrs. Henninger.

There's a picnic today.

We should go.

Weshould go?

Heard your husband's gone AWOL.

I'm just offering my services

- [laughs]
- as a, uh... escort.

How very gallant of you.

It's an oasis somewhere.

Maybe there'll be a waterfall.

- Everyone likes waterfalls.
- Mm-hmm.

And this would involve swimming,
I assume?

I hope so.

The voyeurs among us
want to see you in a swimsuit.

Not very subtle.

I'm from New York,
subtly gets you fined there.

I won't fine you.

- Maybe a little
corporal punishment. -[laughs]

Corporal punishment?

Now I'm beginning to feel

a vague stirring of interest.

Vague stirring?
Vague stirring?

I need something a little more
concrete than "vague stirring."

I'll talk to my people,
who'll talk to their people.

We'll get back to you.

And there I was,
hoping for a hostile takeover.

[laughing]

♪

[car door closes]

[speaking foreign language]

[car door closes]

Ah.

Orthoceras.

Hmm.

He says you cannot drink
from the same cup.

You cannot eat
from the same plate.

[scoffs]

He says your shadow
must not cross.

Is that a custom?

No.

Just his way right now.

It will pass.

- All right.
- Hm.

ANOUAR: It has been sent
all the way to Norway.

Coffee table.

It is incredible that wealthy
men collect such things.

Ah, wealthy men collect a lot
of stupid bullshit.

The renovation
of a single bathroom

can keep a Saharan village
alive for a year.

- Hm.
- The desert is what we fish,

and the fossils are our fish.

[scoffs]

It is a joke.

God has played a joke on us.

Does it make you laugh?

No, not at all.

- Makes you laugh?
- No.

Makes me laugh.

Soon there will be nothing here.

No people, no trees.

We are the last ones.

We have fossils
and our children.

And nothing else.

ISIS control this part
of the desert.

Oh, that's very encouraging
to hear.

Marvelous.

We will drive around Issomour
to arrive to Tafal'aalt.

It is the back way.

Oh, why the back way?

It's the old man's choice.

So, it'll add hours to the trip.

No, I wouldn't say so long.

We should be there soon enough.

Why are you looking
at your watch?

I don't know.

[laughing]
I don't know.

[laughing]

What?

It was his only son.

It was his only child.

Well...

the world is a dreadful place,
my father used to say.

And best you can do is...
make fun of it.

- Here's my best Buster Keaton.
- [camera shutter clicks]

Here's when he's young.

[shutter clicking]

Here's when he's old.

See the difference?

They say you throw the best
parties east of Marrakesh.

Correction.

The best parties
in the whole North Africa.

Is that good?

I got it.

RICHARD:
Dally.

Could you get everybody moving?

Quicker we get there the better.

It's too bloody hot.

- Oasis time.
- Dicky.

- Darling.
- As I live and breathe.

♪

[engine revving]

♪

♪

RICHARD:
Do you know,

Dally and I come down here
nearly every day,

and every time I remember
why I'm not in London.

JO: Do you sing a song to Pan
as you stroll along?

And other Gods, too.

Mammon, right? He was a god.

The Phoenicians didn't make it
quite this far west, Tom.

- Oh, of course, the Phoenicians.
- [laughs] Ooh.

How stupid of me.

- [under breath]: Asshole.
- [Jo laughs]

TOM: Did I tell you
I have a house in Bali?

JO: And you own a Kandinsky,
too, right?

TOM:
It does sound like a line.

What is it you like about Bali?

Mm. The hot weather.

The cheap restaurants.

I thought Mick Jagger
lived there,

and then it turned out
he didn't.

Girlfriend?

Not in Bali.

I thought all white men
had a girlfriend in Asia.

Not me.

Mm.

I'm sure you have
a few sluts on the side.

- A little judgmental...
- [laughs]

...of both me and the sluts.

I'm not judging anyone.

I think men need sluts.

I think women need to be sluts.

They can't seem
to manage otherwise.

Except when they're drunk,
of course.

Well, maybe you
don't know how to ask.

Me personally?

Yeah, you personally.

You've forgotten
about my husband.

Yes, I have.

And so have you.

♪

♪

[wailing]

[wailing continues]

[wailing continues]

[wailing continues]

[women crying]

[crying continues]

DAVID:
Was that the mother?

No, no.

She died many years ago.

- Aunts and cousin.
- Oh.

DAVID:
This is Driss' room.

There is no other room
for you to sleep in.

Abdellah wants you
to feel his spirit here.

He thinks it is more fitting.

Oh.

I'm going to the burial now.

- Does Abdellah want me to...
- No, no, no.

While I am away, you should
keep your door bolted.

What?

The women.

- Grief.
- Oh.

♪

[reciting prayer
in foreign language]

[prayer continues]

[prayer continues]

[shoveling continues]

Dalek.

[chuckles quietly]

[muffled grunt]

[footsteps approaching]

JO:
Oh, David.

What have you done?

JO:
What the...?

What, what the fuck
are you doing?

[knock on door]

Hungry?

DAVID:
Mmm.

What meat is this?

Goat.

It's good.

Fresh.

Abdellah only killed the animal
an hour ago.

[metallic jingling]

ANOUAR: The diggers returning
from the mountain.

They come back when it's dark,

when they can no longer see
what they are doing.

So, they work from dawn to dusk.

It's a nice phrase until you
think what it actually means.

Why did you agree to come
back here, David?

[sighs] I don't know.

I suppose...

I suppose I wanted
to cross the bridge

and have done with things.

Abdellah will come by soon
to have a talk with you.

Is he coming with a knife?

[laughs]

[snorting]

I haven't done this in years.

That's A-Force snow
from Marseilles.

SWANTHORNE: It's a rather
boring drug, I find.

I plowed through heaps of it
with John Paul Getty.

Or "old one ear"
as I liked to call him.

I only do it now
because Maribel insists.

You're such a liar.

You look fucking hot tonight,
by the way.

That's just the coke talking.

I think it's good you've got
some time to yourself, Jo.

I think you needed it.

It would be great
if I wasn't so worried.

- [snorting] -You know you'll
never be accepted here,

don't you, Dicky?

Being an infidel and all.

[snapping fingers]

Why should they accept them?

They have every reason
to hate them.

I'd have thought they'd have
more reason to hate you.

France has excellent relations
with the Arabs.

We share the Mediterranean
with them.

But you wouldn't understand.

Oh, I understand. You mean
you have them in your ghettos

so you feel close to them,
but do you feel close to them

when they're burning cars
in the suburbs

and ransacking your synagogues?

That is just, how do you say,
um, a problème social?

No, they dislike you for the
same reason they dislike us.

We're not Muslims,
and we lord it over them.

It's against what they regard
as the natural order of things

which would be them
lording it over us.

I don't hold it against
them though.

They're rival imperialists.

But in America, Muslims
are peaceful and prosperous.

You know, th-they don't spend
their time rioting

and pelting police cars
with garbage cans.

How come they only do that
in France?

[French accent]: It must be,
uh, how do you say...

- solidarité.
- [laughter]

You are killing
hundreds of thousands

- in Iraq and Afghanistan...
- No, we're not, darling.

The mujahideen are.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

Listen, honey.

We understand that, when in
doubt, Americans must be blamed.

We would miss it,
if you didn't blame us.

We're masochists,
is what you're saying.

Yeah, we enjoy it.

It makes us feel more important
than we actually are.

Blame us less,
and we'd be a lot more humble.

We wouldn't think
that we were actually

the center of the world.

ISABELLE:
I don't believe you.

You always think
you're the center of the world.

You fucking Americans!

[laughing]

What do you think, Hamid?

The tongue has no bones, sir,

but it crushes all the same.

[door opening]

[chanting nearby]

[chanting stops]

[chanting resumes]

[gasps]

Is it good?

It's an apple.

You speak English.

DAVID:
Mm.

Well, I guess the joke's on me.

There is something
I want to show you.

The fossil Driss was carrying
when he was hit by your car.

It was recovered by the police.

They returned it to me
because it is so valuable.

It is called an Elvis.

An Elvis?

Only three specimens
have been found in the Sahara.

And the dealers decided
to give it the name of Elvis

because it is a superstar.

Uh-huh.

Driss stole it from me.

This happens all the time.

Young boys are frustrated.

They feel they're going nowhere.

And have no hopes.

They don't want to be diggers
all their lives.

They don't want to live
like their fathers.

They want to escape.

So they steal an Elvis.

which they know will sell
for $10,000

in the United States.

If they can sell it
to a foreigner

for a thousand euros...

they can go to Casablanca.

Start a new life,

or simply find a woman.

Casablanca is full
of loose women.

And a thousand euros
will get you a long way

with a loose woman.

I didn't mind when I found out

that Driss had stolen it
from me.

I understood him.

And in a way,
I wished him luck.

It's only a fossil, after all.

A lump of rock, literally.

If he had sold it to you
for a few hundred euros...

...I would have been
happy for him.

Really happy.

Oh, how much better
it would have been

if you had stopped
and bought the damn thing.

You would now be in Azna,

drinking cocktails
with your wife.

And Driss
would be in Casablanca,

in the arms
of a loose woman.

I'm sorry about what happened.

I'm very sorry.

But it was a terrible accident.

I have no idea why you people
have such thirst

for these stupid rocks.

What do you see in them?

All we know
is that you want them

and are prepared
to pay money for them.

Some of us believe...

that these are the most evil
creatures that ever existed.

That they are the forms
of dead demons.

That is what they look like,
you must admit.

They must have an influence
on our minds.

An influence that is evil.

And that's what attracts you
to them.

[sighs]

It's all a mystery.

Driss took my Elvis and ran...

...and the next person he saw

was you.

["Contact"
by Brigitte Bardot playing]

♪

[grunts]

Hey, get this cunt
the fuck off me, will you?

[grunts]

This is how you open
a bottle of champagne.

You hold it firmly by the base.

You turn the bottle,
not the cork.

Red wine should be held by the
neck, a woman by the waist

and a bottle of champagne
by the derriere.

Mark Twain. Very good.

Of course, those priorities
can be rearranged later.

Glad to hear it.

I feel like I've been a little
phony with you in some way.

Playing a part.

It's not me at all.

This isn't me either.

You know...

I didn't want to meet
a married woman

just because I thought
she'd be quick and...

We have our uses, don't we?

[glass shatters]

[laughs]

[grunting]

[laughing]

[Jo and Tom heavy breathing]

[chuckles]

[laughing]

[both laughing]

♪

♪

DAVID:
Hello!

Hello!

Good morning.

I'm sorry, I don't speak Arabic.

Or Tamazight, I suppose,
is the dialect.

I see you come out for a walk.

Of course, you saw
there's nowhere to run,

and nowhere to hide.

I wasn't trying to run or hide.

My things are all back...

[Abdellah sobs quietly]

Anouar will take you back
to Azna.

♪

[moans quietly]

[gasps]

There you are.

JO:
Bit early in the day.

I haven't been to bed yet.

That's the gear for you.

Been for a swim?

I feel rejuvenated.

- So awake I'm dangerous.
- Mm.

Run with it.

- It won't last forever.
- Mm.

What else have I missed?

I got waylaid by a Greek god.

- And what does that mean
exactly? -[laughing]

It means...

I've committed adultery
with a ridiculous man,

as women always do.

Yeah, well, such things
have been known to happen.

Not to me.

I'm glad.

Don't mean about Tom.

I mean about you.

Knocked David of his perch.

That's a good thing, isn't it?

I wasn't thinking about David.

I was just thinking
about myself for once.

Are you going to divorce him?

I think I have to.

Might be for the best.

- You didn't seem very happy.
- Mm.

Didn't seem like you.

Guess we were an obvious couple.

Aren't all couples
rather obvious, in the end.

12 years, after all.

12 years.

I guess it doesn't seem
that long when you say it fast.

I was thinking,
none of this would have happened

if we hadn't killed that boy.

We would've just carried on.

Driss.

Boy's name was Driss.

[thud]

But then you knew that anyway.

"Driss Taheri."

What did you do with his ID,
bury it?

JO:
David, what the fuck?

What the fuck are you doing?

What the f-fuck
are you doing?

That's all in the past.

The important thing is now,
isn't it?

[Abdellah sobbing]

[gulps]

[breathes deeply]

♪

What cereal do you eat
in the morning?

I don't eat breakfast.

I'm usually too hungover.

I prefer cornflakes myself.

It is one good thing
that you are giving us...

apart from ice.

- I'm glad you like ice.
- Ah.

I like everything
that is cool, cold and fresh.

You think I like to live
in this furnace?

You think I like the-the camels,
the palm trees

and the 104 degrees
every morning?

Huh?

No. Not at all.

I dream of Sweden
most of the time.

Sweden?

Yeah.

I've seen it
in a color magazine.

A fantastic place,
by the looks of it.

It is the place
I would most like to live.

Must be so
deliciously cold there.

[scoffs]

But the world does not promise
anything to anyone,

and no man ever lived
the way he wished.

♪

[emergency brake clicks]

[turns off engine]

[bleating]

[bleating continues]

Goats in a tree.

It's a fraud, David.

They don't climb up
there on their own.

The old man in the shop
will come out

and ask you if you'd
like your picture taken.

For a very small fee, of course.

Crooks, David.

Tricksters.

- Breakfast.
- Where'd you get that?

[laughs]

It's good, huh?

It's good.

♪

Do you think Abdellah
has forgiven me?

He could tell
that you were sorry.

He judged you to be sincere.

But does he forgive me?

I'm sure of it.

He must have forgiven you.

Otherwise you and I would not
be drinking tea here in Alnif.

[chuckles]

Anouar...

It was my fault.

The accident.

It was 100% my fault.

I had been drinking all day.

I was driving too fast.

I was arguing with my wife.

Driss did nothing wrong
except step into the road

to try to make us slow down.

It was my fault.

Anouar...

It was my fault.

Time to say goodbye, my friend.

Goodbye.

Why?

Uh, no reason.

Well, for Sweden.

You're a decent man, Anouar.

And you, David,
you are an honorable one.

[starts engine]

Richard sent you?

No, I saw the Jeep.

So much for
the welcoming committee.

Mrs. Henninger.

I believe she's
in her room, sir.

David.

I never did ask your name.

Hamid.

Cheers, Hamid.

Ah...

[sighs heavily]

SWANTHORNE:
I knew Henninger a while back.

Never liked him much.

We went to the same school.

He was one of the old boys.

Somewhat notorious.

Really?

Did he lurk about?

- Unnatural practices?
- No.

Nothing of that sort.

More of an agitator, apparently.

I was told he once
put out a newspaper

called "England
without Darkies."

[scoffs]

A spoof to make people
feel ashamed

of their thinly veiled racism.

Well, he should consider
republishing.

No thin veils anymore.

So he's a lefty then?

I suppose so.

[Richard clicks tongue]

Do you think they buried
the Arab boy all right?

Assume so.

It's the way
they do things here,

brush them under the carpet.

No one wants any trouble
in the end.

I expect poor David had
to bribe them up to the hilt.

Silly bugger.

Cars do have brakes, you know?

It's been my attitude all along.

[water running]

[water stops]

Oh. [laughs softly]

[rattling]

What is this?

A souvenir.

What happened out there?

The father wanted to talk
to me, that's all.

Did he ask for money?

No.

I gave it to them anyway.

You find that hard to believe?

I don't know.

Yeah, I'm a little surprised.

Anyway.

It's over.

Bags in cars.

Over here.

Okay, that's it.

Cheese.

- [shutter clicking]
- Okay. Is that it?

- That's it.
- Yeah.

Ciao, bambina.

[shutter clicks]

Thank you, boys.

- Ciao.
- Bye.

Flowers, please, Dally.

Shame we didn't get
any alone time.

Maybe just as well.

Give my best to Jo for me,
will you?

You know how I hate goodbyes.

Oh, yeah, Tom, I know that.

TOM:
What are you doing?

I need a ride to Casablanca.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.

What have you done
for me lately?

Mate, I can suck a golf ball
through a fucking garden hose.

Yeah, that's what they all say.

Get in.

See you at Azrou for dinner.

- We'll order the trout.
- [laughs]

SWANTHRONE: Maribel, get your
pretty little bottom moving.

People are waiting.

Now where are you two off to?

MARIBEL:
Tinghir.

The Hôtel de Sud,
or whatever it's called.

Maribel wants to experience
the desert,

whatever the fuck that means.

It was a great party, Dicky.

Delighted you could make it,
your lordship.

I'd never throw these kinds
of parties myself

unless orgies could be arranged.

Alas, the age of orgies
appears to have ended.

Arrivederci.

- Ciao. -Ciao, ciao, bambino.
- Take care, good to see you.

[horns honking]

[birds chirping]

[muttering]

[David continues muttering]

[mutters]

[gasps]

You were having a nightmare.

Yes.

[chuckles]

[laughs] So, why didn't
you wake me?

Oh, I thought you're not
supposed to wake people...

That's sleepwalking, isn't it?

Sorry.

Mm.

I was dreaming I was inside...

a giant Boeing turbine.

And, uh, I was supposed
to clean the blades.

All I had was a toothbrush.

Suddenly, the turbines
began to spin.

I was shredded.

How did you know
it was a Boeing turbine?

Uh, good question.

You inspired?

Yeah, I have an idea
for a new book.

Hm. Congratulations.

You know, we're more than happy
for you to stay an extra night.

Makes more sense for you
to start out early tomorrow.

No, I slept all afternoon.

We'll drive through the night

and get back to Tangier
in a single leap, I think.

I know what you're thinking,

but lightning
doesn't strike twice.

Yeah, it does.

Well, we fixed the car
as best we could.

There's a picnic hamper
in the back seat.

[laughing]
The booze is nonalcoholic.

[feigns laughter]

Anyway...

It's all ended
peacefully enough.

Not for the boy, I know, but...

for everyone else it could have
been a lot worse.

They have, uh, any interest
in carpets out there,

out in the desert?

I've never seen anything
from that far out.

- I didn't notice the carpets.
- Oh.

- Did you see Tom
before he got off? -No.

He got off
without us seeing him.

How'd he do that, Dicky?

Don't know.

He's a slippery chap.

We see him once a year,

and I never know
who he is really.

Who's Tom?

The American.

The American?

Oh. Of course.

Give us a call
when you get back.

We always worry until we know
people are home safe.

And treat yourself
to something nice in Tangier.

It does wonders, you know,
a little retail therapy.

We'll do that. Bye.

Bye.

Safe journey, David.

Goodbye, Hamid.

What a ghastly weekend.

That French bitch.

Amazing people like that
actually exist, isn't it?

Who was she with? Remind me.

Uh, The New York Times,

- Style section.
- Thank God for that.

I thought you were going
to say The Guardian.

I told Hamid
to lock the place up,

outer gates and everything.

Why'd you do that?

Just to be on the safe side.

["Venus In Furs" by
The Velvet Underground plays]

[over radio]:
♪ Shiny, shiny

We need to talk.

No, we don't.

Excuse me?

We don't need to talk.

Nobody needs to talk.

We can choose to talk
or not talk.

From which I can assume
you're choosing not to talk.

Your assumption is correct.

♪ Strike, dear mistress,
and cure his heart ♪

You don't even want
to talk about your shirt?

God, I hate Lou Reed.

It's Velvet Underground.

How can you hate Lou Reed?

♪ Downy sins
of streetlight fancies ♪

DAVID:
I think we should stop.

JO:
What? Why?

It's where we hit him.

Driss.

I think we should stop
and pay our respects.

♪ Ermine furs adorn

JO:
Someone in the road.

♪ Severin, Severin

♪ Awaits you there

♪

No, don't get out of the car.

♪

- ♪ I am tired
- David?

♪ I am weary

♪ I could sleep
for a thousand years. ♪

[music stops]

- David.
- [door closes]

Abdellah sent you.

[gasps]
David!

It's all right. It's all right.

It-it's not...
it's not all right.

It's-it's a fucking carjacking.

It's not a carjacking.

- Don't!
- Do it.

No. David.

Do it.

David.

Do it!

[Jo gasps]

- [gunshot echoing]
- [gasping wheeze]

[gasping wheeze]

[Jo wheezing]

[sobs]

[crying quietly]

♪