All language subtitles for Incendies 2010 720p BluRay x264 AAC - Ozlem

Good to see you.

Please...

THE TWINS

"Will of Mrs. Nawal Marwan.

"Opening of the will
before her two children,

"Simon Marwan

"and Jeanne Marwan.

"In conformance with the instructions
and rights of Mrs. Nawal Marwan,

"Notary Jean Lebel

"is named executor of the will."

That was your mother's decision.

I was against it, but she insisted.

You know,

your mother was more than an employee.

My late wife and I
considered you our family.

So...

I couldn't refuse.

"All my assets are divided between
the twins Jeanne and Simon.

"My money will be halved

"and my belongings divided as they see fit.

"Burial.

"To Notary Jean Lebel,

"bury me with no casket, no prayers, naked,

"face down, away from the world.

"Stone and epitaph.

"I want no gravestone,
nor my name engraved anywhere.

"No epitaph for those
who don't keep their promises.

"To Jeanne and Simon,

"childhood is a knife stuck in your throat.

"It can't be easily removed.

"Jeanne,

"Mr. Lebel will give you an envelope.

"The envelope is for your father.

"Find him

"and give it to him.

"Simon, the notary will
give you an envelope..."

I've heard enough.

I haven't finished.

Go on.

"Simon, the notary will
give you an envelope.

"The envelope is for your brother.

"Find him

"and give him the envelope.

To the son

"When the envelopes have been delivered,

"you will be given a letter,

"the silence will be broken,

"a promise kept,

"and you can place a stone on my grave,

"and on it engrave my name in the sun."

I admit, it's unusual.

Anything to sign?

No, not today.

Okay.

Thanks, Jean.

- Let's go.
- Wait.

You know about our father.

That we have no brother.

Why'd you let her write that?

I understand your reaction.

It's very surprising.

Don't pretend you buy this.
You knew her. It can't be.

One doesn't invent such things,

not in a will.

There's this, too.

Look, your mother
has left us something rather...

We'll sleep on it and...

We'll be in touch.

I'll wait outside. Thank you, Jean.

Sit down, Simon.

Look, Jean...

Your secretary liked working for you.

At least she did that right. Bravo.

But your secretary was my mother.

And that job, a whole other matter...

Simon...

Bury your secretary how you want.

But I'll bury my mom normally.

For once in her life
she'll have acted normally.

End of discussion.

Take your time.

Come back when Simon's calmer.

I know it's very unusual,

but your mother wasn't crazy, Jeanne.

We're a big family suddenly.

She ever mention a dog?

Big families always have a dog.

Do we have to find it now, too?

She's fucking crazy.

I'll talk to Jean.

About what?

Having a normal funeral.

We'll take care of her, then you.

Where you going?

Bury her any way you want.

Cut it out.

You weren't there when she died...

You were there when she had her accident...

You feel guilty about everything!

I don't feel guilty.

Do you realize what we just heard?

She's gone, Christ! It's over.
Peace at last!

I feel so fucking peaceful!

I'm at peace.

I can see that.

The mathematics you've studied until now

have sought to provide
clear and definitive answers

to clear and definitive problems.

Now you are embarking on a new adventure.

You will face insoluble problems

that will lead to other,
equally insoluble problems.

Friends will insist that
the object of your toil

is futile.

You'll have no way of defending yourself

for the problems will be
of mind-boggling complexity.

Welcome to pure mathematics

and the realm of solitude.

Let me introduce my assistant,

Miss Jeanne Marwan.

Hello.

We'll start with the Collatz conjecture.

What does your intuition tell you?

Your intuition is always right.

That's why you have the makings
of a true mathematician.

But for this you're going to need help.

Do you have family there?

Any contacts?

It's ridiculous, Niv.

You just learned that A;
Your father is alive,

and B; You have another brother.

What's ridiculous is
to challenge the inevitable.

You have to know,

or your mind will never be at peace.

And without peace of mind,
no pure mathematics.

You need a starting point.

My father died during the war, in Daresh.

That's the unknown variable.

You never start with the unknown variable.

My mom's from Der Om,
a village in the Fouad.

She studied French at Daresh University.

If she studied, there's hope.

Saïd Haidar.

You'll pay a visit to Saïd Haidar.

An old friend who teaches in Daresh.

You can trust him.

Mom?

Are you all right?

What are you doing?

Mom?

Are you okay?

Madame, you're on my towel.

Mom?

What happened?

Where's Jeanne?

Mom?

Does she get migraines?

No.

Memory lapses?

No.

Incidences of falling?

No.

Moments of confusion?

She's usually confused.

No, she's never confused.

Wahab, come.

Let go of my sister.

Where are you going, son of a refugee?

Nicolas, stop!

Go back home!

Wahab!

We'll seek you in your camps
and slaughter you!

Give it!

- I want to.
- It's my duty.

You stained our family's honor.

That's enough!

Come home now!

Come home!

Get away!

What have you done?

You've humiliated us,
ruined the family name!

Why, my God,
have you cast us into darkness?

My God, what have you done?
Why did you do this to me?

What am I to do with you?
Should I kill you?

I'm pregnant, Grandma.

My God, blackness everywhere! Why?

Why did you do this to us?

Am I supposed to kill you?

What am I going to do with you?

Eat.

Eat if you want your child to be strong.

Listen to me carefully.

There's nothing here for you now.

I'll help you after the birth.

I want you to leave here.

You'll stay with your
Uncle Charbel in town.

You'll go to school there.

You'll learn to read, to think.

To escape this misery.

Promise me and I'll help you.

Promise me that you'll go to school.

I promise you, Grandma.

I promise you.

Take a good look at your mother.
So you'll recognize her.

I'll find you again one day.
I promise you, my love.

- Be careful.
- Don't worry.

Come, it's time you left.

I see terrible times ahead.

One day I'll find you, my son.

I received the message
from my friend Niv Cohen,

but I can't help you.

Because, back then,

I was teaching
the history of mathematics at Paris Xl.

More precisely, the period when

Leonhard Euler succeeded,

although blind,

in first providing
a formal mathematical resolution

to the problem of
the Seven Bridges of Königsberg.

Yes.

He defied Diderot at the Court,

by declaring,

"Sir,

"e\pi * pi\p + 1 = 0.

"Therefore, God exists!"

Niv, Niv, Niv...

Hello. Do you speak French?

Of course. Can I help you?

I'm looking for someone
who might know this woman.

She studied here about 35 years ago.

You're kidding, right? I wasn't born.

I can't help...

I'm not kidding.
You must know someone who can help.

I've traveled too far. Please.

Her name is Nawal Marwan.

You're kind.

No, I want to get rid of you.

Najat, it's me.

Got any time to waste?

She looks familiar.

Perhaps she worked
on the student newspaper.

That was long ago.

The people who left changed their identity.

But it's striking.

The photograph of your mother
was taken in Kfar Ryat.

Look here.

It's the sign for Kfar Ryat.

It's a prison in the South.

You don't know of Kfar Ryat?

No.

Then you're definitely not from here.

You don't know the South.

If the international community

does not intervene immediately,

the refugees,

crammed into camps along the border...

She's here.

We students oppose the Nationalist Party

and expelling the refugees in the South.

The Nationalists support
the Christian right,

who openly threaten the refugees.

The refugees are armed

and have the support of most
of the Muslims in this country.

But you yourself are Christian.

We stand for peace.
This is not about religion.

Nawal!

The radio! They shut the university!

The Nationalists closed down the campus!

Nawal, come back!

Stay here!

Uncle Charbel, they shut the campus!

There will be fighting.

I want you to stay with me.

There's gunfire.

Girls, come eat!

Mom, they attacked the university!

That's no reason not to eat.

Christian villages in the
South were attacked.

God help us!

That's why they shut the university.

It won't be long before
it blows up here, too.

We'll go to the mountains
until things calm down.

For how long?

We go tomorrow.

The rest of the family is already there.

What about school?

The schools will close anyway.

God only knows until when.

And the newspaper?

Don't worry.

The paper can survive
without us for a while.

Ideas only survive
if we're there to defend them!

Exactly, Rafqa.

Exactly.

There are two orphanages there.

I'll come later on foot.

You're not going there now!

- You promised Grandma...
- You heard your dad.

If they attack the camps,
the country's lost.

School's finished.

I think of him every day.

He's my child.

I want to find him.

I'm going to Shadia's for water.

Make it quick, Nawal.

- Name?
- Nawal.

- Nawal what?
- Nawal Marwan.

Where are you going?

The South.

Why?

To join my husband.

Wahab.

It's always been a girls' orphanage?

The boys moved
to Kfar Khout three years ago.

Come with us.
Kfar Khout was attacked yesterday.

I'm looking for the orphanage.
Do you know where it is?

There.

The children! Where are the children?

Ask someone who was there.

The Muslim villagers have fled
to the camp in Deressa.

They fear the reprisals that'll come.

Maybe the children are with them.

Chamseddine and his men killed
all the Christians to avenge the refugees.

Maybe the children are in Deressa.

Are you going to Deressa?

I'm Christian.

My daughter! My daughter!

THE SOUTH

Hi, Simon. It's me.

I'm in Mom's village. I wish you were here.

Listen.

I told you never to come back here!

Hello.

Souha?

Ahmed loves you! Ahmed loves you!

I told you to stop saying that!

Hello.

Can I help you?

Hello.

Does anyone speak French or English?

Where's Samia?

Thank you.

You speak French?

Yes. Hello.

Hello.

My name is Samia.

I'm Jeanne Marwan.

Thanks for helping.

Marwan? There are lots of Marwans here.

Really?

I'm from Canada.

I'm looking for Souha.

Souha? That's her.

She's my great-grandmother.

The grocer at the corner gave me your name.

I'm looking for my father.
His name is Wahab.

My mother was Nawal Marwan.

She was born here.

We don't know her.

Yes, we know her.

Her mother is a disgrace!

The Marwan family was struck by disgrace.

The war came.

I'm looking for Wahab.

She doesn't know Wahab.

I can't help you. I'm sorry, I'm tired.

If you are the daughter of Nawal Marwan,

you are not welcome here.

Go home.

You're looking for your father,

but you don't know who your mother is.

I arrived after
the massacre at the Deressa camp.

Everything was smoldering.

I searched for my son among pools of blood.

I never want to forget
what I saw and heard.

You say you oppose our enemy.

That does not make you our friend.

Why should Chamseddine trust you?

My son's father was a Deressa refugee.

My son was swallowed by the war.

I have nothing left to lose.

I have only hatred for the Nationalists.

That's not what
you wrote in Charbel's newspaper.

My uncle believed that his words
and books would promote peace.

I believed him.

Life taught me otherwise.

What do you want now?

To teach the enemy what life has taught me.

Very good.

Very good. You just forgot this.

How's the French?

I am much gooder, Dad.

The comparative
of "good" is "better," darling.

I want my son to speak several languages.

So he can understand
without an intermediary.

Nawal here.

How are you, Nawal? This is Nouchine.

Good evening, Nouchine.
How is your mother?

My mother is very well. Tomorrow at 10 a.m.

Tomorrow it is.

Hey, lovely.

Good morning.

Will you go out with us Thursday?

No.

- Friday?
- No.

- Saturday?
- No.

We're patient!

So am I.

Don't forget. "Always" always takes an "s."

Goddamn whore!

Amnesty International repeatedly
condemned the Kfar Ryat prison.

This is the women's section.

The cells are bigger.

Some prisoners were kept for 15 years.

When was it built?

After the massacres.

Right after war started.

They jailed 600 political prisoners.

You can go in. I'll take a picture.

Do you know her?

It was taken here.

I don't know her.
That was a long time ago, so me...

Do you know anyone who worked here?

Hello.

I'm looking for Fahim Harrsa.

I'm the school janitor.

Yes, but before?

Before?

That was before I was school janitor.

I've been the school janitor a long time.

Do you know this woman?

She was in Kfar Ryat.

I'm the school janitor. End of story.

I need someone who knew her

who can tell me about her.

She's my mother.

She's the Woman who Sings.

Number 72.

She shot the leader
of the right-wing Christian militias.

They made her pay a high price.

Very high.

Fifteen years.

"The Woman who Sings."

She sang all the time.

You're sure it's her?

I spent 13 years watching her.

Have you ever spent
13 years watching someone?

They did everything to break her.

At the end she still stood tall

and looked them in the eye.

Never seen anyone like her.

She wouldn't break.

They were enraged.

So they sent Abou Tarek.

Who's that?

Abou Tarek.

You know, sometimes,

it's better not to know.

I live with it anyway.

Go on.

Abou Tarek...

Abou Tarek was a torture specialist.

He raped her again and again.

To break her before her release.

So she'd stop singing.

In the end,

she became pregnant.

It was like that. I'll never forget.

72. Made pregnant by Abou Tarek.

They waited until

she gave birth in prison.

Then they let her go.

The baby?

Did you see the baby?

There was a doctor who sometimes came.

I believe he went crazy.

Others say he has a restaurant in Tel Aviv.

That's bullshit. He went
crazy or else he died.

Now, the nurse... I know her.

She lives in Daresh.

In Daresh.

Listen, Simon. I don't give a shit.
Just shut up!

Mom was in prison.

Simon, Mom...

Mom was raped.

She had our brother in jail.

I need you.

THE WOMAN WHO SINGS

The contracts of Notary Amyott.

From 1868-1892.

His son, Edouard, took over until 1925.

All handwritten.

My grandfather, Charles.

My father, Henri.

And me.

The end, because I'm the
last of the Lebels.

I'll show you the will of a man

who led parallel lives.

Turned out he had three wives.

Here,

in Miami and in Honduras,
where he did business.

So now,

it's not three children involved,

but eight.

That was fun, believe you me!

Look.

Death is never the end of the story.

It always leaves tracks.

To find your brother,
you have to retrace your mom's past.

Jean, I want to find my sister. That's all.

I'm on it.

I have a few quick things to wrap up.

Pack your stuff. We'll leave in...

My passport!

We?

Haven't you done enough?

Exactly. I can't pull out now.

Grow up, Simon.

I know you need me.

We find her and come back.

Promise.

For a notary, Mr. Marwan, a promise

is sacred.

Now sing.

That's it. That's it.

The baby's coming.

I can see its head.

Push.

Go on, dear.

The first one is out.

Rest a bit now.

I'm proud of you.

Get ready for the second.

Stop.

Give.

- What are you doing?
- You threw them in the river like always.

- It's dangerous.
- No.

You did your duty.
You threw them in the river.

I'll look after them.

They're the babies of the Woman who Sings.

We are a battlefield for other countries.

Imagine if there'd been notaries
back in Noah's day.

We'd only have to look up
the property deeds.

This is your land. This is your land.

The right of way...

Done. Everyone's happy.

Notaries only began 1,000 years ago.

That's the problem.

We should've been there day one.

Thank you again for your help.

It's my pleasure, dear colleague.

I have the information
you requested by e-mail.

Simon, my briefcase is right beside you.

Would you please hand it to Mr. Lebel?

You're very kind, but with the jet lag,

we'll look at it later.

In brief, for the father it's complicated.

There's no death certificate.

- For the brother...
- Excuse me, what's this about?

I asked for help, Simon.

Mr. Maddad agreed, to speed things up.

I told you, we're here to find Jeanne.

Your sister's
the easiest family member to find.

I'm so happy you're here.

Me, too.

The nurse who helped Mom deliver in jail...

We can go see her today.

Jeanne, it's enough.

Just shut up and come with me.

It's your job to find our brother.

If not for her or yourself, do it for me.

She's in hospital.

I'm glad you're here.

Me, too, dear. Me, too.

If she's sleeping, you'll come back.

Mrs. Maïka?

Hello, madame.

Thanks for seeing us.

It's about someone you knew.

You know Nawal Marwan?

You were a nurse at Kfar Ryat?

She says she knew your mother.

You helped our mother give birth?

Madame, we're looking
for the child she had in jail.

Can you help us?

She worked in Kfar Ryat prison.

She assisted her during delivery.

She safeguarded the babies.

And returned them
to the Woman who Sings upon her release.

- Sarwan! Janaan!
- Nawal Marwan had twins.

You really knew the Woman who Sings?

You don't know what it means for me.

Nawal Marwan worked 18 years for me.

As my secretary.

My wife and I were fond
of her and her children.

But I realize I didn't
really know her after all.

- Ready?
- Ready.

At my request, Mr. Maddad did research

to find your brother and father.

For the father, Abou Tarek,
there's no death certificate.

Many in this country disappeared.

He may have gone abroad.
That's what his kind often did.

They're either dead or they left.

Wait and see.

Maybe this is best.

For the brother...

Your client, Mrs. Nawal Marwan

is from the village of Der Om.

She gave the child to
a midwife named Elham,

who placed him at the Kfar Khout orphanage

in May 1970.

It was hard to locate the registries.

Many documents were destroyed in the war.

But I finally turned up the registries.

The Sisters of Charity
collected and donated them

to the National Archives.

In May 1970,

the midwife of Der Om, Elham,

gave up a male child for adoption.

The only boy placed
at the orphanage that month.

Look, he was registered
under the first name of Nihad.

The dates match.

It's him.

He's your brother. Nihad.

Kfar Khout orphanage.

Nihad of May.
That was his name for the records.

Nihad of the month of May.

The month of arrival
was a temporary surname.

There were no adoptions at the time.
The war had started.

In 1974 the orphanage was destroyed.

We must ask who destroyed Kfar Khout

to learn what happened to the children.

Between you and me,
given what occurred in the region,

there's little hope.

He's probably dead, too.

I didn't say dead. I
said we lost his trace.

They're both dead.

We open the letters. Finished.

I won't allow it. This
kind of thing is sacred.

It would be like a rape.

Great, it runs in the family.

Sorry.

There's one path left,

but it's somewhat radical.

The warlord who razed
the orphanage is still alive.

He may know what happened
to Nihad and the others.

It's been an eternity.

You must understand,
those years saw a series of reprisals

that set off each other
with merciless logic.

Like an equation.

A warlord is precisely the kind of man
with a long memory.

He'll remember, believe me.

Wallat Chamseddine. That's his name.

Where do we find him?

You don't find him, he finds you.

We can try something.

Do you like tea, Mr. Marwan?

It's your turn.

You'll travel to the Deressa refugee camp.

You'll drink tea.

With whomever invites you.

You'll tell them you're the son
of the Woman who Sings.

You're looking for Nihad of May.

You can't go alone.

I'll find someone to accompany you.

Welcome to Deressa.

Know where we're going?

No idea.

How are you?

Look, you're a grown man!

I finished my engineering degree.

I can't find work, so I drive a taxi.

What brings you here?

I'm with some foreign visitors
who asked me to bring them here.

Welcome. Come.

No, thank you. We're short of time.

Please, come.

He's inviting us for tea.

Okay.

He asked me why you came to Deressa.

To find someone, Nihad of May.

He doesn't know a Nihad of May.

He asks what your name is.

My mother's from Der Om in the South.

My mother's the Woman who Sings.

Yeah, it's done.

Wait for what?

Sarwan Marwan?

Yes.

We've come to offer our help.

You'll be back in an hour.

- Can I tell my sister?
- No, only an hour.

That's a promise.

I'll put on a shirt. One sec.

He's calling.

That's okay.

Already? Don't worry, you can go with them.

In the South, one spark
sets everything off.

All right.

You helped us. Now it's
our turn to help you.

You'll leave the country.

It will be simpler.

We'll find you a home and a job.

I want you to have a better life.

We have many contacts in America.

You must go with your children.

I know they're alive. Take them with you.

Your children will help you, you'll see.

You can't ask that of me.

Your children are our children.

Your family is our family.

Trust me.

I will help you.

I will always be there for you
and your children.

Hello, Sarwan.

Forgive the precautions,
but it's for your protection.

I am called Wallat Chamseddine.

Tell me,

how can I help you, Sarwan Marwan?

You knew my mother?

Let's say she worked for me.

How can I help you?

I'm looking for a man named Nihad of May.

Why do you want Nihad of May?

He's my brother.
My mother asked me to find him.

How can you say that Nihad of May
is the son of Nawal Marwan?

My brother was placed
at the Kfar Khout orphanage.

We found the birth records.

The dates, everything fits.

Nihad of May is my brother.

My friends and I attacked
the Christians of Kfar Khout

to avenge the aggressions
against our brother refugees.

There was an orphanage in Kfar Khout.

I spared the children

and I took them with us.

Nihad was among them.

We trained them,
prepared them to fight alongside us.

Nihad had a gift.

He was special.

He quickly became a formidable marksman.

But

he wanted to find his mother.

He searched for months.

I don't know what he saw or heard.

He became

crazed with war.

He came back to see me.

He wanted to be a martyr.

His mother would see his photo
on every wall in the country.

But I refused.

He went back to Daresh.

He became
the most dangerous sniper in the region.

A real machine.

He would shoot at anyone.

And then there was the enemy invasion.

And one morning,

they captured Nihad.

He'd killed seven soldiers.

They didn't kill him.

They trained him
and sent him to the Kfar Ryat prison.

He was in prison?

Yes.

As a torturer.

With my father?

No.

He didn't work with Abou
Tarek, your father.

You okay?

One plus one

makes two.

What?

One plus one makes two.

It can't make one.

You're feverish.

Jeanne?

One plus one... Can it make one?

There's a chair.

Take it if you want.

Can I help you, madame?

I'm sorry.

When he became a torturer,

your brother changed names.

He became

Abou Tarek.

Nihad of May is Abou Tarek.

We know he's living in Canada
under a new identity.

Nihad Harmanni.

Mr. Harmanni?

Yes.

This is for you.

Letter to the father

I'm shaking as I write.

I recognized you.

You didn't recognize me.

It's magnificent, a miracle.

I am your number 72.

Our children will deliver this.

You won't recognize them

for they are beautiful.

But they know who you are.

Through them, I want to tell you
that you are still alive.

Soon you'll turn silent... I know.

For all are silent before the truth.

Signed...

Whore 72.

I speak to the son,

not to the torturer.

Whatever happens, I'll always love you.

I promised you that when you were born,
my son.

Whatever happens,

I'll always love you.

I looked for you all my life.

I found you.

You couldn't recognize me.

You've a tattoo on your right heel.

I saw it.

I recognized you.

You are beautiful.

I wrap you in tenderness, my love.

Take solace,

for nothing means more than being together.

You were born of love.

So your brother and sister
were born of love, too.

Nothing means more than being together.

Your mother,

Nawal Marwan,

Prisoner No. 72.

"When the envelopes have been delivered,

"you will be given a letter,

"the silence will be broken,

"a promise kept,

"and you can place a stone on my grave,

"and on it engrave my name in the sun."

My loves,

where does your story begin?

At your birth?

If so, it begins in horror.

At the birth of your father?

Then it begins in a great love story.

But I say your story begins with a promise

to break the chain of anger.

Thanks to you, today I
have finally kept it.

The chain is broken.

Finally I can take the time to cradle you,

to gently sing a lullaby to console you.

Nothing means more than being together.

I love you.

Your mother.

Nawal.