All language subtitles for Angel.2018.eng

The whole world has seen
pictures of this room.

They even showed it on TV.

Nothing inside has changed.

The bed.

The blue bed-covers.

It might be a bit faded...

and the walls could do with some paint.
But apart from that...

the rest is still the same.

Even the fan is still there.

I don't know how many times
I cursed that thing

while some big, fat blob
was gasping on top of me.

Many things have happened since...

but I think many people will recognize
this room when they see it.

They said it was a room in a sex motel

and that it was registered
to a Senegalese whore.

That's to say, me.

I don't like the word "whore".

It denigrates who I am.

I'd rather consider myself a gazelle.

Even if I put in my mouth
everything a whore does.

I feel lighter as a gazelle.

It was love at first sight
for Thierry and I, from the very start.

I found empty bottles.

What kind of medicine?

- How much?
- I don't know.

How many pills did you find?

Hey, Roger.

Yeah, I'm good. And you?

I can't. I'm leaving for Senegal.

What do you mean?
We talked and you were OK with it.

What am I going to do there?
You know,

chill, drink, party...
Lots of stuff.

Don't freak out, Roger.
I'll be full throttle once I'm back.

I'll win a classic race, I can feel it.

Yes, I filled out the form
with my details.

If they want to test me,
they'll just have to send someone.

The sponsor doesn't need me.
He just needs me to race and to win.

Arsehole...

ANGEL

Hey, mom. I'm leaving.
I left my keys in the usual spot.

Thanks, mom.

Loads of guys from the team have been.
They've never had any problems.

Can you do my laundry?

Big kiss, mom.
Bye bye. Love you!

Fae!

- Hello.
- Hey.

- Everything OK?
- Yes.

- How are you, Binta?
- OK.

Hey.

- How are things?
- Same old.

Fae, shall we go
to the African Queen tonight?

Of course!
There's plenty of white guys.

- Did you have a client last night?
- No.

I didn't feel like it.
That pig stank of sweat. No thanks.

Do you realize we sometimes fuck guys
who are older than we'll ever be?

So you'd better enjoy life,
don't you think?

Thierry Brasfort is having a good race.
He seems to be unstoppable today.

We're approaching this dizzying descent
with our world champion in the lead,

which could throw
the pack back even further.

I didn't expect to see him come back
so quickly after his knee problems.

What's going on? No way!
I think our world champion fell.

There's disbelief
among the leading group.

Slow motion...
Thierry Brasfort did indeed fall down.

These gruelling pictures
call to mind Rik Verbrugghe

or Johan Bruyneel...
The rescue team is quickly on the spot.

The ambulance,
a car with his director, Roger...

Everyone's on the move.
What could have happened?

The bike is in a dramatic state
and the rider seems to be immobile.

That's not a good sign,
they are hardly riding,

they can feel
something serious has happened.

Let's hope he didn't hit that rock!

There's no telling
if it was a technical error,

a lack of attention,
or if the motorbike hit him.

I'm waiting impatiently for a close up.
My goodness, I see a stretcher!

This clearly reminds us of Stig Broeckx

or, even worse,
of Wouter Weylandt, who lost his life

on a similar road. I dread to think it,
but this is getting unbearable...

- Hello.
- Good day, sir.

- Business trip?
- No, I'm on holiday.

- Have a nice stay.
- Thank you.

Bro!

- All right?
- All right, kiddo?

- Yeah, and you?
- Now you're here, yes.

- It's so hot.
- Was the flight OK?

- Do we have someone waiting for us?
- Yes.

This is him right here.

Hello, sir.
Welcome to Senegal.

I'm Idrissa. I'll be your driver.

Nice to meet you.

Here's some cash.
You can't do much with euros here.

Thanks.

Are you Italian?

French?

Belgian.

- Is this your first time here?
- Yes.

- What do you do exactly?
- I'm a cyclist.

- Ah, you ride a bike?
- Yes.

- Tour de France?
- Among others.

- Did you win it?
- I could have.

I had everything I needed to win.
The profile, the talent...

Everything, really,
but I let my chance slip away.

Ever fucked a black girl?

No. You?

Yeah, two or three times.
It wasn't bad.

I can't do it if I'm not in love.

That's not something
you inherited from Dad.

You've never fucked for the sake of it?

No, not really.

Good day.

We want to go to Somone.

Are we going to Bibi's?

Yes, why?

Last time I went, he called me a whore.

- You are a whore, aren't you?
- So are you.

No.

I don't have a card, so I'm not a whore.

It's just a health card.

Did you do a HIV test to get your card?

- No.
- There you go.

Your card just proves you're a whore,
and nothing else.

Could you please stop here, sir?
They sell water there.

Hey, three bottles of water, please.

How much?

- 300 francs.
- OK.

Here you go, keep the change.

Thank you.

I had an insane dream this week.
I'm telling you.

I wonder if I'm losing it.

I was a magician at a birthday party.

I start to juggle
and it was going well...

I pull a flower out of my sleeve
and a scarf from my mouth...

But when I'm supposed to pull
a rabbit from my hat, nothing happens.

So I lift up the hat again... Nothing.

The kids start saying to each other:
"Who's this arsehole?"

Then suddenly the flap opens
and the rabbit falls to the floor, dead.

- Dead?
- I swear. As dead as can be.

So the kids start yelling and crying...

And I start to get nervous, you know.

One minute later,
the father kicks me out of the house.

I'm totally lost and return home.

I check my hat.
Nothing's wrong with it.

I check the other rabbits. They're okay.

I just don't understand.

The following weekend,
I have another birthday

and I have to drag myself there.

I feel the sweat run down my back.

I'm terrified.

The parents can see me sweating, as if
they knew what was going to happen.

So I take off my hat again.

Still nothing.

The kids have stopped
watching me for a while now...

But I can feel the parents staring.
I can't take it, so...

I run off.

Bibi!

- Bibi, how are you?
- Hey, Princess. I missed you.

- How are you?
- I'm doing great, thank God.

- You want a drink?
- I'd like a Coke. You?

- Pineapple lemonade.
- Thanks.

- Still mad?
- He treats me like a whore.

That's not true, Binta.

He may have called you a whore
but he hasn't treated you like one.

He's just joking around.

I love you.

- You like to go out to clubs?
- You bet.

If you want to eat and drink
with lots of atmosphere...

I would recommend the African Queen.

- The African Queen?
- Yes.

The owner is my cousin.

Great vibe and beautiful girls.

- Say hello to him for me.
- What's his name?

- Mémé.
- OK.

It's right there.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- Welcome.
- Thank you.

- We made reservations under Brasfort.
- Brasfort, OK...

That's fine.

That's OK.
And can I please have your credit card?

Here you go, sir.

- All good.
- Thank you.

- The key to your room.
- Thank you.

- In about 30 minutes?
- More or less.

- Will you come to my room? 308.
- 308, OK.

- Please follow her. Have a nice stay.
- Thank you.

- Hello, welcome.
- Thank you.

Awesome, you brought cocaine.

This shit totally messes me up.

It'll end up completely destroying me.

In the end,
I'm doing this for you, for my fans.

I've injected
who-knows-what into my body.

I've snorted and swallowed...

to the point of being
completely addicted, almost dead.

It's for you,
and only you, that I did this.

To gain your respect and love.

I starved myself,
wasted away, even.

To the point I couldn't take
a single sip or hold down food.

I've often thought: "Is this the end?"

Once you've lost everything,
you're left with nothing but your body.

It's your one and only possession.

It allows me to live.

And when my body feels good,
I feel good.

I can keep exploiting it
and earn money.

It has never let me down.

It even let me pull through
when I was in trouble.

My body is who I am,
more than my spirit or anything else.

I treat it with the greatest care.
For myself...

but also for you.

There's a casino.

That might be cool.

Thierry?

- It's you!
- Yes.

- What a surprise. How are you?
- I'm fine.

This is my wife and son.
Can we take a photo?

- So, are you doing the Tour this year?
- Yes.

That's fantastic.

We're counting on you.
You have to win the green jersey.

- We'll do it for you.
- Thanks. We're counting on you.

- Anyway, thanks.
- Thanks. Have a nice evening.

You too.

This doesn't look too bad.

- Good evening.
- Good evening, gentlemen.

You're most welcome here.

- Table for two?
- Yes, please.

Let's get you a table.

- Are you Mémé?
- Yes, that's me.

- You're Idrissa's cousin?
- That's right.

One for you.

Here you go.

Something to drink?

- Two margaritas?
- OK, no problem.

What's with you?

- Enjoy your meal.
- Thank you.

Enjoy your meal.

My burger stinks.

I'm telling you, it's rotten.

Yeah, it stinks.

Ask for another one.
Want me to do it?

Excuse me, sir?

- Yes, sir?
- This burger smells bad.

That's not possible.

Smell it.

Does that smell fresh to you?

- Don't tell me it doesn't.
- I don't smell anything.

- Is everything all right?
- No, not really. My burger stinks.

Get him another hamburger.

My apologies, gentlemen.

If you need anything else,
please let me know.

Maybe two margaritas for the trouble?

- No worries.
- Thank you.

- How's mom doing?
- She's good.

She's had a hard time
with all my bullshit, but...

And when you left for Paris.

But she's OK now.

As for Dad, that's still not clear...

- But she's fine?
- She's fine.

Don't feel like fucking one?

I don't know.

I think she's really, really pretty.

Gentlemen.

Thank you.

Excuse me...

could you tell the two ladies
that we want to buy them a drink?

- Didn't they like their burgers?
- One of them thought it stank.

I didn't smell anything wrong.

The one on the right is mine.
Binta will take his friend.

- How much?
- Five thousand, as usual.

The ladies will have
a glass of champagne,

but you should know,

these are loose women and there's
no such thing as a free lunch.

- They're whores?
- Yes.

It's not the end of the world.

I don't know.
You said you need to be in love...

But she's a very beautiful woman.
She's making my heart race.

- How much?
- Five thousand.

- Five thousand?
- Yes.

That's not even ten euros.
And for the night?

That is for the entire night.

- What shall we do?
- I don't understand...

You say you need real feelings
and now you're going for a whore?

Giving a woman pocket money
doesn't make her a whore.

She needs to do whatever she can
to make ends meet.

It's no different from me.
Interviews, television...

We're all whores.

We'll do it.

Nice to meet you.

I'm Thierry.

Fae.

Damn... You're so beautiful.

Is Mr Thierry Brasfort your brother?

We're here together, yes.

Why?

- Does Thierry Brasfort ring a bell?
- Thierry Brasfort?

Cycling, sports, Eddy Merckx...

The only athletes we had
around here were rally drivers.

They drove so fast we couldn't see them.

- The Paris-Dakar?
- Which finishes in Buenos Aires.

Because everyone protested
after there had been a casualty.

Didn't they move
because of the threat of terrorism?

When I was kid,
I was run over by a Datsun.

I had a crushed kneecap
and a broken shin bone.

My cycling career
nearly never happened.

The insurance money was put
into an age-restricted bank account.

When I was 18, I withdrew it...

I went to a used car garage
and found an identical-looking Datsun.

I took it to a car park and I burned it.

Just to get over that dark period.

I don't believe you.

I can show you.

Look.

It doesn't work.

If you type my name into Google

you'll find 200,000 articles about me.

- About a guy who rides a bike?
- Yes, but a racing bike.

When I'm on my bike,
I'm a different person.

I'm one with my bike.
I'm a machine. Nothing can stop me.

My heartbeat, my rhythm,
all in total symbiosis.

I've never ridden a bike. Is it hard?

- People call him "The Angel".
- People are crazy.

Yeah, crazy about me.
And they drive me crazy.

Do you smoke?

Did you see that? First try.

One time, a girl said to me:

"If you can't start a lighter
on the first try, you're a loser."

But that was a long time ago.

An athlete that smokes?

You'd rather an athlete
who only consumes bread and water?

And the season hasn't started yet.

Sorry, I'll be right back.

Roger?

Who?

Stop with this bullshit.

Next week, I'll be back at 100%.

Roger, I've known you for 10 years.

You can't do this to me, you arsehole!

I've trained like a madman
all year long.

I need to calm down?
Go fuck yourself!

You're nothing without me.
I'm the only star on the team.

Not a week goes by
without me in the newspapers.

You'd be directing amateurs!
That's what you'd be doing!

Arsehole!

What's going on?

Roger kicked me off the team.

What do you mean? He can't do that.

What about your contract?

The contract ends in a year's time.

- I'm calling my manager tomorrow.
- What reason did he give?

Because I left just like that.

OK, but you told them, right?

I told Roger this morning.

Serge, I needed to rest.

I had to leave the stress
and the hypocrites behind.

They're all off their heads.

Everyone does dope, without exception.
And we know. Everybody knows.

But I'm the one who takes the heat.

Always. You know why?
Because I'm the star.

It's me the cops want.
It's me they throw in jail.

All of that because
I had a moment of weakness?

Because they found some cocaine
in my blood after my accident?

I'm lucky to have you.

Anyway, they can't take my legs.

They can never take those from me.

You have your license,
they can't touch you.

Seeing the way
that old arsehole Armstrong

made his comeback
and crawled up the podium in Paris...

I tell myself I can do the same
and take home the green jersey.

Win my sprint on the Champs-Elysées
and bow out in glory.

I'll dedicate my first victory to you.

OK.

- Little brother, I'm out of here.
- Well, have a nice evening.

Bye.

Bye.

Let's dance.

Is Fae your real name?
- Of course.

Only prostitutes use made-up names.

I'm a gazelle.

That's what I was hoping for.
It's a sign.

- What is?
- Your initials.

Look.

These are the initials
of my ex-wife and my son.

The "L"...

is for my precious son, Louis...

I'll never erase him,

because he's my blood.

The "F", I chased away.

But it came back.

You're my new "F".

I've never felt good with a woman before.

Never.

Will you marry me?

I'll take you to Belgium
and we'll live together.

I'll take you to the races.

I'll sprint like a madman for you.

I'll win and you'll be proud of me.

During the winter break,
we'll come here.

I'll buy a chunk of this beach here.

I'll have a palace built for you
like no other around here.

You don't have to answer right away.
I know this is all very sudden, but...

Promise me you'll think about it.

Promise?

I'll think about it.

It's great here.

I can see us doing
grocery shopping together every day...

Going to the beach
and swimming in the bay together.

Riding bikes together.

And having children.

This place is still open.

What's wrong?

I know you don't like this.

If you want, we can call it a day.

I don't want to register
as a prostitute.

In a Muslim country,
it's really not that great.

With or without a card,

you're sleeping with me.

And you are not a whore.

You are my miraculous love.

I'll show them the "F" on my chest.

You'll see.

OK?

No, sir.
Without a health card, she can't get in.

Even if she's disinfected
from head to toe,

she won't enter this hotel.

We won't compromise

the reputation of our establishment
for a tourist girl.

Are you calling my future wife
a tourist girl?

- So whores can get in, but not wives?
- It's the law, sir.

Do you know who I am?

For all I care, you could be
the 8th Wonder of the World,

but she's not getting in
without a health card.

The Euro Disney hotels
know Thierry Brasfort.

I was offered
a 4000-euro suite for free,

because I felt like spending the night.

Mickey Mouse
probably knows all of high society,

but you're in Senegal,
not a theme park.

Do you think
you're better than her, arsehole?

Back off, or I'll call the police.

Call the cops, go ahead.
I'm leaving anyhow, arsehole.

- Then leave.
- Arsehole.

- Do you know another place, my love?
- Yes.

Perfect.
Wait 5 minutes so I can grab some stuff.

Wait outside so that arsehole
doesn't catch anything.

OK? Here.

See you in a second.

You want me to shoot you in the head?

Insulting my wife... I'll teach you.

Where are you?

Come back!
I won't do anything to you.

Sir?

Sir?

Can you call Mr Brasfort's room?

Do you think
I'm going to bother one of our guests

for a whore?

Shall we go, sweetheart?

- Are you all right?
- Of course, my angel.

You were furious just now.

Are you still angry
with the receptionist?

Of course not.

That arsehole doesn't deserve
one second of my attention.

- Any news from Serge?
- No.

What do you think he's doing?

He's screwing your friend.

- What do you mean?
- I meant what I said.

We'll soon be together as well.

Good evening.

- Good evening. La Rose du Sable?
- Yes.

- How's your brother?
- My brother is fine.

- What is he doing?
- He left for France three years ago.

He knows my brother well.

Can't he speak French,
so I can follow too?

- What is he doing there?
- I don't have any news from him.

Tell him I said hello
if you hear from him.

- Where are we going?
- To the hotel I mentioned.

I understood that.
Why don't you speak French?

- How did he know where to go?
- I told you, he's my brother's friend.

- What's wrong with you?
- Nothing.

- Do you know him well?
- No, why?

I don't know. I feel weird.

I feel weird.

I hope you're not making fun of me...

Did you put something in my drink?

What did you say?

You want to return to your hotel?

Yes... No...

I don't know.

I can't deal with you being
with someone else, with you cheating.

Calm down, my love.

I love you.

Who is this guy?
Is he your lover or your pimp?

Why were you talking about France?
About the Tour? About me?

You think I can't win any more?

No, we were just talking
about my brother who left for France.

Please give a warm round of applause
for Thierry Brasfort, our champion!

Our local prodigy
and this region's Eddy Merckx!

Thank you, Thierry!

Stop it!

Stop it!

Stop! Stop it!

Stop it!

- How much?
- 600 francs.

What's that in euros?

About one euro.

Would you like me to wait, sir?

No, don't bother.

Number 10, as usual?

As usual?

- What does that mean?
- I need both of your details.

I'm already registered elsewhere.

Then just give me a name.

You pay, Fae.

My name is Tom Boonen,
I'm a resident of Monaco.

- Who's Tom Boonen?
- A fan.

- How many clients have you fucked here?
- I don't know.

What do you mean you don't know?

Tell me.

How many guys
have you fucked here?

I didn't count.

Five? A hundred?

The question isn't
that complicated, is it?

I'd just like to know.

How many dicks
have you sucked here?

Sit down.

What have I done?
Why are you treating me like this?

Thierry, not even an hour ago,
you said you loved me

and wanted to marry me.

I love you, Thierry.
I beg you, believe me.

What's wrong?

Leave me alone, you stupid whore.

Did you drink too much?
Is it something you ate?

What did you put in my drink?

Do you want me to call your brother?

No, leave my brother out of this...

Stop it...

I'm sick...

Stop it...

Do you want me to call a doctor?

A doctor? What for?

To find out you poisoned me?
Admit it, you fucking viper.

You dirty whore.

Calm down, Thierry.

What did you put in my drink?

You're only after my money and fame.

You want to destroy my career,
you filthy bitch.

Can't you see I'm worried about you?
Can't you feel my love for you?

Get lost!

Don't leave.

Help me.

I'm scared.

Help me...

I'm dying.

It's that shit.

What do you mean, my angel?

My little boy...

Calm down, my angel.

Tomorrow, you'll feel better.

Fae?

You have to leave.

I'm staying with you.

Don't worry.

Leave me here

and come back tomorrow.

We'll find a better hotel.

All right.

See you tomorrow.

I love you.

Hey, Binta. It's me.
Want to meet later on?

It was a long night.

I'll tell you all about it.
See you later.

Good day.

Take me to La Rose du Sable.

- 500?
- Yes.

Thanks.

Your brother is dead.

Mom, it's Thierry...

It's my fault.

I bought stuff.
I bought stuff and it's in his room.

Now?

Okay, mom...

Mom, I'll do it. OK?

I'll do it mom, all right?

- Good day, sir.
- Hello.

Could I have the keys
to Thierry Brasfort's room?

The key to your brother's room?
- Yes.

No, the police have asked us to...

Yes, I know,
but I just talked to my mother

and I need to get
some stuff from his room.

Please give me the key.
I had my mother on the phone

and I need to get some stuff
from his room, please!

- Here.
- Thank you.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

I am here to make a confession.

I was with the man
who died in La Rose du Sable.

This is his phone.

What's his name?

Chief.

She's here.

- You're the one?
- Yes.

Follow me.

Did you know Thierry Brasfort
was a world-famous cyclist?

I didn't know what cycling was.

When he told me that was his job,

I thought he was joking.

Like many clients do.

Tell me, in all honesty,

how you met each other.

I was in the African Queen
with a friend,

where I met him and his brother.

And then?

Nothing special. We had fun.

We danced and had a good time.
Just a regular evening.

Did you...

Did you sleep with him...

Yes.

And then?

- I went back to the hotel.
- And your brother?

I don't know. He stayed.

Did he take drugs?

No, he doesn't do drugs.
Not at all.

He was different from other clients.

He was a good man.

He made beautiful plans for us.

He told me he had
to get something from his room.

He was gone for a long time.

When he came back,

something had changed about him.

He didn't feel well.

I shouldn't have left.

I will never forgive myself.

The autopsy showed us what happened.

That's why we are releasing you.

The analysis shows that
it was his heart.

You didn't kill him.

He died of an overdose.

You can leave now.

Get up.

Thierry started the night with me.

He was my new husband, and I...

I was his new wife.

We were going to live together.

During the summer,
at his house in Belgium,

in winter, here in our home.

He thought about racing
a couple more years before settling.

We were going to have
a lot of children.

Little brothers
and sisters for his son.

We were going to do so many things.