Original subtitles

"The executioner always kills twice, the second time with silence."

You'll be much better off here, Mr. Célestin.

Here we go.

Let me take your suitcase.

This chair is for your visitors.

If they want to spend the night, they can sleep in here.

No one will.

If ever you need to talk to a spiritual counselor,

that can be arranged.

There's no need, I don't believe in God. And God doesn't believe in me.

Very well.

...Saturdays from 10am to 1pm, three hours of music and news.

Hello?

Hello?

Hello?

Who is it? Hello?

We confirm that after 25 years of exile,

Jean-Claude Duvalier has returned to Haiti.

Crowds of curious onlookers,

including former supporters and opponents of the former dictator

have flocked to the Port-au-Prince airport.

Nicknamed Baby Doc,

Duvalier governed Haiti from 1971 to 1986

before being ousted by a popular revolt.

Remember, our call-in number

is (514) 555-3996.

We have Mr. Dorsinville on the line.

-Hello? -Hello.

-Am I on? -Yes.

I don't understand why

we only mention the bad things about Jean-Claude Duvalier's rule.

I think things were much better under his presidency than they are now.

We must admit that it was a dictatorship,

with human rights abuses.

But at least we built infrastructure,

an education system

and tourism that kept the economy rolling.

You're talking about back when Haiti was called the Pearl of the Caribbean.

Yes. Haiti, Pearl of the Caribbean.

But now, Haiti is a country

where the past is always brighter than the future.

THE LAST MEAL

Look at these!

Give me the nicest.

-How much? -25 gourdes.

Thanks.

Reynold!

Come here!

Look, he's always eating a mango!

Where did you get that beautiful car?

This is Fanfan's car.

-Fanfan? When was he released? -Last night.

It was no problem. You know, his father has money.

Want to try it out?

Look at this!

Those macoutes have a good racket.

They know who to arrest in order to make money.

His mother must've lit candles to Saint Antoine.

Whenever that family waves money around, she has to light those candles.

Guys, I gotta go.

Come to the radio station with Fanfan tonight.

Bring some rum and don't be seen.

Keep it quiet. I don't want any trouble.

I have something you need to hear.

See you later.

Mr. Célestin?

Mr. Célestin?

Mr. Célestin?

Okay, Mr. Célestin.

Let me give you something for the pain. You'll be okay.

Stay still.

-It'll be okay. -The hunger will kill me!

Hunger will kill me.

-Let me fluff your pillow, there. -I'm dying.

-Stay with us, it'll be okay. -I'm going to die.

The food has no taste. Everything is bland.

Hunger will kill me, you hear?

Hello, Mr. Célestin.

I'm Gilles Francoeur, I'm a spiritual counselor.

-I've been sent-- -Who sent you? God?

Tell Him to send me a decent meal before I die!

-I understand you're going through-- -No! You understand nothing!

Do you recognize this painting?

Leonardo Da Vinci's The Last Supper.

The last meal Jesus shared with his disciples.

Stale bread and wine? That's not much of a last meal!

Your god is no better than the hospital cook!

It's not what we eat for our last meal that matters.

It's who we share it with.

I'll leave you.

Hello?

Hello?

Who is this?

Yo! Who is it?

Stop calling.

-Hello? -Vava?

Vava.

It's me.

GET WELL SOON

Vava?

I forgot to sign it.

Getting well isn't an option.

Stomach cancer.

I'm gonna die.

Soon.

-Lunchtime, Mr. Célestin. -"Lunch."

There.

I'd give anything for a plate of aransaur.

Bon appétit.

Seriously, you need to pass the puck more.

-And you need to get open! -Yeah, yeah.

Hi sweetie.

Why look at the menu when I know what you'll get?

-Rice, salad, chicken. -You're right.

Vava sweetie, come translate this for me.

"Ridge?"

"I thought you left for New York."

-"You lied to me?" -Bastard!

Someone is harassing you, huh?

What?

Vlad told me.

Unidentified calls on your cell.

Oh, that stopped.

I've been watching over you for a long time.

I'm not gonna stop now.

There are a lot of crazy folks out there.

Nice, huh?

See you at the rink?

You see how Vlad cares for you?

Now's the time to buy some stuff before I close my register.

No, no, no. No freebies today, dear.

Then I want a raise.

-Fine. Half price, okay? -Thanks, Auntie.

I'll let you close up, dear.

Here.

Have some takeout. There's enough for two, you know.

I'm not giving up on that!

-Bye, love! -Bye, Auntie!

Vava.

You can open it.

Aransaur.

Tastes good.

Mayi moulen?

Did you forget I can't eat that?

In 16 years, there's a lot I tried to forget.

At Fort Dimanche,

that's the only food we ate.

Right off the ground.

Fort Dimanche.

Fort Death.

There was only mayi moulen.

Every day.

More.

This guy thinks he can cheat!

You want to eat more?

Insolent!

Show some respect!

Fort Dimanche.

Fort Death.

Why are you telling me this?

Next time, bring me griyo.

Why did you bring me back into your life?

You never wanted to see me.

And now you're asking me to feed you like nothing happened?

Like when I was living with you?

You never hit me with your belt?

My prison was every time you made me get your belt from your closet

so you could hit me with it.

So don't act like you don't know what my prison is.

I'll disappear from your life soon.

Forever.

Give me one last chance.

Have you been standing here long? I didn't hear you knock.

-I just wanted to bring this back. -Come in!

Did Vladimir enjoy the food?

Let me see.

-It's not for Vlad. -Your man's a hungry one!

Seems he doesn't like mayi moulen.

If you want to keep him away from other women's tables,

you'll need to start cooking, dear.

Because there's nothing sexier than a big pot of diri djon djon!

-Listen... -Come with me.

I'm a terrible cook, Auntie. I could burn water.

Do you want him or not?

This is my Bible.

With all the gospels.

There is the mayi moulen gospel, but he doesn't like it.

The diri djon djon gospel.

The lambi gospel.

And of course, the gospel of...?

Griyo!

Parsley and garlic.

You get these. I'll take care of the meat.

He's big and strong. You need to feed him well, you hear?

My griyo recipe is finger licking good!

Did you find everything?

Let's see.

Great, it's all there.

You know,

cooking for someone is a gift of love.

Come.

That's what gives the best flavour.

You see?

Like this.

You squeeze both halves.

And you use the peel to clean the meat, because you need to clean it.

I've got enough juice now.

Now, the spices.

Harder. Crush them.

Really mash 'em.

That'll be the marinade for the meat.

You leave this on, this fatty lard.

This white part.

It'll get crispy and delicious.

Put some elbow grease into it.

Rub it, that's it.

You see?

Nice, huh?

Don't forget, the meat needs to marinate until morning.

Then put it in the oven at 350 for about 75 minutes.

Put it on broil for the last 10 minutes.

The lard will be so nice and crispy!

Look.

Take good care of it.

Did he ask you to make him griyo?

Did you make this?

Yep.

You're good.

I don't really know you. You never talked about yourself.

I'd just gotten my philosophy degree.

I had my whole life ahead of me.

Mr. Jean-Claude Duvalier,

great patron of sports for the national football team.

Dear friends,

it is with great pleasure that I offer my congratulations

over your qualification for the World Cup

taking place in Munich in a few months.

You don't need a tailor, you need a good shoemaker!

-How are you? -I'm well.

-Have you finished my suit? -No.

It's not that I don't want to.

But I have orders for three tonton macoutes uniforms before you.

Ordered by the government.

If you don't finish my blue suit, I'll have to go to my graduation naked.

It'll be your fault!

If that's the case, you'll thank me

because all the girls will see your best features!

I could make it faster in exchange for a little favour.

What do you want?

Do you take requests on your show?

You know, the song that goes...

Raoul Guillaume!

If it makes you work faster, I'll try to play it for you.

Thank you.

Come here, I need to talk to you.

Remember what we talked about last week?

What?

Look.

I found it.

Solèy Lévé (Rising Sun), Patriotic Songs?

Are you crazy? I don't want that here!

Don't worry, I was careful.

Don't stir up any shit, Reynold!

Don't come into my shop with that kind of stuff.

Go try on these pants instead.

Tell me, why didn't you play the song "Duvalier We Love You" last Monday?

Know your place, boy.

Look at this.

You can only play what's on the list, got it?

Show some respect, boy.

I won't say it again.

Are you crazy?

You scared us this time!

They don't mess around at the Dessalines Barracks.

My friends,

let's drink, smoke and have a good time!

Where's Manno Sanon? Gone to score!

Where's Barthelmy? Gone to score!

Where's Tom Pouce? Gone to score!

Where's Philippe Vorbe?

We're going to Munich! We're going to Munich!

Dammit!

Don't worry, I'll get you yet!

I thought you met in Montréal in 1973.

I have something to show you.

What's wrong with him?

He looks like a zombie looking for something.

Shut up, Fanfan.

Reynold, is this what you're looking for?

Reynold, looking for this?

Quit your teasing!

This is serious.

Where did I put it?

Reynold!

Looking for this?

Trio Select, Plein Caille?

Not that, something else. Put that down.

You live even more dangerously than me.

-Fanfan, I'm not joking. -Come get it!

Fanfan, give it to me!

You want this?

I said give it to me!

Let's listen to it.

"Judge".

"Judge me well."

Quit it, are you nuts?

I can't put this on the air!

Then play it just for us.

Just for us.

Play it for me, Reynold.

Just for me.

We'll go get booze and cigarettes.

We'll leave you lovebirds alone.

I'll turn off the lights

so you can get things done here.

Bastard!

What's going on here?

Where is he?

And so? You think you're tough?

Let me go!

You're acting like you don't know why we're here.

Your mother was the brightest among us.

Fanfan's dad paid for her to flee to Cuba.

The following year, she moved to Montréal.

Mom.

Dried mushrooms. You can only find them in Haiti.

I'm serious.

And we let it sit.

Good, now crush it.

And now I'm gonna fry them.

Let me turn up the heat a bit.

A bit of this.

There. The shrimps look great.

About three cups.

Just take how much you need.

Just a small chunk.

You don't need much because it's already pretty fatty.

Not bad, eh?

No, that's how young people dance!

We aunties dance like this.

The old way.

You have one new message.

Hi, Vava.

No need to bring me diri djon djon.

Each time you bring me food, I get terribly sick.

I can't eat anymore.

I'm done.

Message deleted.

Now I want you to tell me the rest.

Everyone out!

Get a move on!

Move!

Communists!

Get a move on!

In front of you.

Here.

Stand there.

Welcome to Fort Dimanche.

Because Sunday is God's day of rest.

So He won't be there to watch over you.

We're the ones who will watch over his little lost lambs.

Everyone strip!

You heard! Take off your clothes!

Are you deaf?

Faster, don't take all night!

Put on your uniform!

Don't make me come over there.

Faster!

Get going!

Hey, get up!

If you want to sleep on the ground, you gotta wait your turn.

Tonight,

this is my spot.

Get away!

I'm a fan of Philippe Vorbe.

I like Manno Sanon.

Oh come on, Manno Sanon?

Seriously, look at how Manno Sanon shoots!

-Look at his level of play! -Liar.

Let me finish, don't cut me off!

-Why should I let you talk? -Vorbe can't do anything!

He doesn't know how to play.

What can he do?

Quiet, I can't hear!

Shut up, Chopin. What do you know of football?

You're just a romantic. Piss off!

You just talk bullshit.

You're the one who talks bullshit!

Keep insulting me and you'll get it!

Shut up, you!

Be quiet or they'll turn off the radio!

Strip.

What can you do...

Junior.

Don't you recognize the last letter of the alphabet?

Z.

For Zorro.

That's the name they gave me.

They decided to mark it on my body for good.

I came from Martinique to go to Carnaval at Port-au-Prince.

On the evening of Mardi Gras,

I was wearing a big hat and a black mask.

To this day, I don't know why they arrested me.

Fort Dimanche

is where they keep those condemned to death.

But they condemned me to live,

until I have buried each one of my cellmates.

That is my punishment.

One day, I will bury you, too.

Junior.

Go on!

Next!

Go on now.

Next.

Go on, that's enough!

Go on, move!

Mayi moulen.

Always mayi moulen.

Every day.

Mayi moulen with smoked herring.

Mayi moulen with fish.

Mayi moulen with seafood.

Mayi moulen with chicken.

Mayi moulen with goat.

Mayi moulen Fort Dimanche.

Rotten mayi moulen!

Back up, back up!

Let him breathe.

Bring me water!

Death.

Death.

Death.

Death!

Yé krik?

Yé krak!

-Is the court asleep? -No, it is not!

Gentlemen,

if the court isn't asleep, all is honour and glory!

Brothers, don't think of death

as a failure or ending,

but as the way into the kingdom of heaven.

Deliverance for our poor souls!

We'll all go back to Guinée!

-Yé krik? -Yé krak!

Is the court asleep?

No, it is not!

-Yé mistikrik? -Yé mistikrak!

-Krik? -Krak!

No, the court is not asleep!

For our brother Émile Paul,

let us not despair.

Yé krik?

Yé krak!

If the court isn't asleep,

let me tell you

how things were,

how things are

and how things will be.

Death!

Death!

Death will come for us!

Excuse me.

We need to close the doors for a few minutes.

I'll come back to open it later. Thanks.

The cell returned to a state of calm.

The guards came back for the body of Émile Paul.

Two detainees were singled out to carry the cadaver.

Marc Valcourt, Benoît Janvier, get over here.

Stand up, ladies! Form a line.

Go on.

Off you go!

Pieces of shit.

I quickly understood...

I don't even want to hear a breath!

...that the people chosen to get rid of the bodies

were next on the list.

Walk, gentlemen! Walk!

You, in the back, faster!

Let's go!

I said walk!

Faster, stragglers!

You're just giving us problems.

Me too, they make my mouth water.

But they give them to the dogs, those bastards.

Sorry my friend.

Don't worry, we'll share the loot with you.

This is not a goddamn boxing ring.

Move!

Put him here.

Now dig!

Stop!

For the honour of our nation,

sing the second verse of our national anthem.

For our forebears

For our country

Let us toil joyfully

Let us toil joyfully

May the fields be fertile

And our souls take courage

Let us toil joyfully

Let us toil joyfully

For our forefathers, for our country

Let us toil joyfully

For our forefathers, for our country

Just four? I'm the one who took the hit!

Thieves!

Now tell us.

Marc.

Benoît.

They made us dig a hole under the quenepa tree in the yard.

We dumped Émile Paul's body in it.

Shame on you!

Aren't you ashamed?

This fruit comes from a tree that feeds on death!

The bodies of our brothers.

Their deaths must be useful for something.

I see you and Vanessa have had a few feasts.

She's a great cook.

Her griyo and diri djon djon are divine!

I've never tried Vanessa's griyo or diri djon djon.

-Really? -Nope. I'll take some pikliz.

Thanks, Auntie Dado.

Joumou soup.

Who taught you to make that?

The year I ran away,

Auntie Dado pretty much looked after me.

One day, I was so overwhelmed that I told her everything.

She was really furious with you.

She took some joumou soup from the freezer,

heated it up

and told me

that joumou soup is what the slaves in Haiti ate

the day they gained their freedom from the French colonizers.

She told me that all the courage of our ancestors was in it.

Whoever eats it becomes stronger,

and is released from their suffering.

Who's playing?

Chopin?

Come on!

Who has another shirt?

What are you doing?

Can't you see? Playing football!

Can't you do something else? You're bothering me!

I'm bored, I need to move!

"Seven". What is that?

Emmanuel Sanon.

He thinks he's Sanon.

I challenge the winner.

All right then.

Do you have pieces?

-I'll borrow his. -His?

You want pieces?

Then don't eat all your bread.

For white pieces, chew them and spit them out.

For black pieces, dip them in coffee.

Each little piece is sacred!

Next time, then.

Pass to me!

Again!

Yé krik?

Yé krak!

Eugène Joseph,

Charles Marcelin, come here!

Say,

next time you come visit,

do you think you could bring me some meatballs?

Put them on a bed of parsley,

coriander,

and sorrel.

Fresh sorrel.

And don't forget

strong mustard

on the side, okay?

Looks like you're addicted to my cooking.

You must be joking.

This is the shit I'm addicted to.

You shouldn't smoke.

It's a bit late for that.

By the way, you shouldn't smoke either.

It's a bit late to be giving me advice.

Hold on!

I need to put strong mustard on a bed of three herbs.

Parsley...

Shit, I don't remember. Parsley, coriander...

Sorrel.

Right, sorrel. Parsley, coriander, sorrel.

You have to chop them fine.

And place the meatballs on top

with a bit of strong mustard on the side.

Only one man

could be so demanding.

Parsley, coriander,

sorrel,

strong mustard.

And his hatred for mayi moulen.

Your mom and I often made him that.

It was so long ago, you wouldn't remember.

He was cruel, you know.

He broke your mom!

My sister wore herself out for him. And now you're cooking for him?

It's not your business.

Everything simmering in my kitchen is my business.

How long have you been in contact with him?

How long?

You can't use my pots and pans to feed that man!

He's in palliative care!

He's dying!

You can't stop me from cooking for my dad.

What could be worse than having a dad like him?

Not having one at all!

Just the way you wanted it.

I even added some sorrel sprouts.

Smell it.

We even found a skull.

We put Marc and Benoît

in the hole.

My friends!

Gentlemen, they're bringing us food in a big truck!

What did you say?

It's a truck with a big bull in it!

It's food!

It's beef!

Beef meat!

Meatballs for everybody!

We'll eat beef!

Meatballs for everybody!

Meatballs for everyone!

Meatballs for everyone!

We'll be eating meat.

Beef in sauce.

Beef steaks.

They're even cruel to our food, the bastards.

Beef steaks.

Beef in broth.

Beef with vegetables.

Meatballs for everyone!

I'll bring meatballs for everybody!

Get up, got it?

Go on, walk straight!

Straight ahead.

Beef in sauce.

Eugène Joseph and Charles Marcelin,

you are sentenced to death

for associating with and engaging in communist activities...

Meatball, meatball, meatball!

...thereby threatening national security.

For the pride of the nation,

I order you to sing our national anthem.

Go on, musicians, sing!

And now the last verse.

From the top!

Fire!

Beef in sauce! Beef steaks!

Fire!

I should have died with them.

I did nothing to deserve freedom. I should have died with them.

Yé krik?

Yé krik?

Yé krik?

Yé krak.

If the court isn't asleep,

wake up from that sleeplessness to hear my last words.

Yé mistikrik?

Yé mistikrak.

Krik?

Krak.

Reynold Célestin, Didier Louis-Jean, come out.

Haiti will be playing in three days, on June 15,

at the Munich Olympic Stadium,

their long-awaited game against the Italians.

Stand up!

Do you know why you're here?

When the colonel asks a question,

you answer.

-You've been charged with treason. -Treason?

You repeatedly failed

to broadcast anthems celebrating His Excellence,

including on his birthday.

As well as possessing prohibited music.

Prohibited music?

Lionel!

A blue suit?

They turned you into a macoute?

Your friend gave us this.

Reynold Célestin,

you are sentenced to death by starvation

for possession and distribution of prohibited music

and for collaborating with a clandestine communist faction,

thereby inciting the Haitian people to revolt and debauchery.

Starvation, you hear?

They're going to throw you in the standing coffin.

No food.

No water.

-Take him. -Lionel, no!

Death!

Death!

What I would have done, at that point, for a quenepa.

Goal!

Goal! Goal, goal, goal!

Get out! Can't you hear me?

We've just received word from the National Palace.

In honour of Manno Sanon's goal in Munich,

we've been told to pardon the last prisoner condemned to death.

You are free, Célestin.

Célestin!

You think you've earned your freedom, Célestin.

But even if they release you, you'll never be free!

Your nightmares will haunt you.

Whether you're awake or asleep, they'll be your new prison.

Because you're not free, Célestin.

You'll never be free!

I walked out of Fort Dimanche.

And became your torturer.

When you ran away,

you freed yourself.

No one had to pardon you.

You are my pride and joy.

I left you

free.

I need this.

Quenepa?

I don't have any.

Sorry.

Hello?

Ms. Célestin,

his condition worsened overnight.

He might still be able to hear you.

I brought you this.

Maskriti oil.

Sorry. There's someone for you in the lounge.

Daddy.

To the memory of those murdered and tortured in Fort Dimanche

during Jean-Claude Duvalier's dictatorship,

as well as their descendants, who still bear the scars.