All language subtitles for Oh, Canada

I was not present
when my father died.

I arrived a week after.

He was sick,
but his death was unexpected.

He had agreed
to a day-long interview

to be conducted
by former students of his

in his apartments
in Old Montreal.

I forget why I agreed
to do this.

Tell me why I agreed to do this?

Monsieur Fife agreed to make the
interview because he's famous

-for something
to do with cinema.
-Ah.

And famous people
have to make interviews.

Mm-hm.

Where's Emma?

I'm here.

Hey.

You look wonderful.

I certainly don't feel calm.

Don't feel calm.

Oh, cherie.

Uh, we're ready.

One minute.

I need her fucking here.

She's the only reason I agreed
to do this goddamn thing.

If she's not there,
I'm shutting it down.

-Emma's here, Emma's here.
-Right behind you, Leo.

You know, what I got to say,
I don't want to say it twice.

It's a lot easier to say
what I wanna say

if I know who I'm talking to.

You're talking to Malcolm,
making a movie.

No, they're making a movie,

Malcolm and Diana.

-Uh-huh.
-Professor Fife.

Ah.

You're blessed, yeah.

We've arranged the place
for the interview there.

Um, you look great.

Yeah, I've never looked better.

You remember
your fellow classmates?

Of course.

Malcolm and Diana.

Mr. and Mrs. Ken Burns
of Canada.

Don't be cruel.

We're used to it, Em.

Uh, Diana will be
behind the camera,

and this is our assistant
du jour, Sloane.

I have a last name,
Sloane Ambrose.

We have you right here on the X.

Um, yeah.

Perfect.

Okay, um,
indicate when you're ready.

As discussed, we want
to record your progress

from your arrival in Canada
as a draft refugee

through your career
as a filmmaker.

Um, we've prepared a list
of 25 questions.

Your career is an emblem
of political filmmaking.

Ah, we're using
the camera technique

you pioneered.

Where's my wife?

I'm here.

Consider it
a protégé's homage.

No objection.

And, also, we don't have
to finish today.

We can continue tomorrow.

Just sit there till I finish
telling everything, okay?

Yeah.

We've worked up
some great questions for you.

Oh, I'm sure you have.

Rene said you wouldn't begin
unless Emma was present.

Is it true?

Mostly true, yeah.

I might have done it,
but differently.

Why?

For the record.

What record?

I don't know.
Like giving testimony.

It's easier
when I say it to you.

Okay, let's begin.

Lights, please.

Leonard Fife,
December 22, 2023.

Leonard,
I'd like to begin with--

The story begins...

the night of March 30th, 1968.

Richmond, Virginia.

That's when the poisonous flower
first bloomed.

My wife, Alicia, and I were
visiting her parents' home.

Goodnight.

Ooh, the baby's
restless tonight.

"There was once
a velveteen rabbit.

And in the beginning,
he was real splendid.

He was fat and bunchy,
as a rabbit should be.

His coat was spotted
brown and white,

he had real thread whiskers,

and his ears were lined
with pink sateen.

On Christmas morning..."

Oh.

Well, that was quick.

Can I listen?

Oh, I can hear him.

Hm?

Or her.

She'll be a girl.

And then we'll be
the perfect family,

mom, pop, son, daughter.

I wish I could stay.

Mm.

When's the flight?

It's first thing.

Don't wake up, I'll take a cab.

Give my best
to Stanley and Gloria.

What an unexpected couple.

Still together.

And I should be there by dinner.

Dad.

I'm sorry, darlin'.

Leonard, join me
for a personal conversation

before dinner?

Sure.

Game room.
Have a snootful.

I'll be there in 15.

Leonard.

Come on in.

Have a seat.

Would you like
an excellent cigar

made by Cuban exiles?

You know what, actually,
I'm trying to stop smoking

on account
of Alicia's pregnancy.

But, yes.

So, I gather

this is a crucial moment
in your lives.

For you and Alicia, I mean.

Yes, sir, you know, it's a--
uh, it's a big change.

For all of us.

It will be a long ways away
from Richmond,

but, uh, you'll have to come
visit us in Vermont sometimes.

Often.

I've never been there.

Vermont.

Yeah, and we'll come down
and visit as often as possible.

Especially when
I'm not teaching, you know,

when college is out and...

It's a good little college,
I hear.

Goddard.

One of those, uh,
progressive colleges

from Alicia's description.

Yes, sir.

My father has not told him

that he could stay on at UVA
for another three years.

He hasn't told Alicia either.

Come in.

I've asked my brother, Jackson,
to join us.

Come on in, Jack,
pull up a chair.

Ben tells me
you're going north tomorrow.

Closed a deal on a place
you bought up there.

Yeah, that's correct.

I know.

You got yourself
a teaching job up there.

A long ways from
your children's grandparents.

Does your own family
still live up there?

Oh, they've, uh,
they've moved to Maine.

That's a damn long ways away.

Son, let me cut to the chase.

My brother and I have been
discussing a proposal,

a business arrangement
we'd like you to consider

before you make
your big move north.

Beech and Nettleson
have bought out

a dozen family-owned health
and pharmaceutical companies.

They would like to purchase
Dr. Todd's.

The offer is substantial.

In the millions.

That's a problem.

W-what's the problem?

The next generation
is the problem.

It's all girls.

You have Ben's one
and my three.

None of my girls
nor the boys they married

is fit to run a lemonade stand.

We've grown to like you.

Well, you hired
a private detective.

Just to check you out.

I'd already told Alicia
I'd been married before.

With a child.

We'd like you
to consider a proposition

that Ben and I have been
discussing with our attorneys.

We'd like you to hold off
on that purchase

of the place in Vermont
and join Dr. Todd's.

We'd like you to consider
becoming an executive officer.

Not right away, of course,
but soon.

Mm, maybe very soon.

Chief executive officer.

Dr. Todd's would be yours,
Leonard.

Not Beech and Nettleson.

Company would stay
in the family.

Well?

What about it, son?

I-I'm surprised and flattered.

I, uh, I never contemplated
working for Dr. Todd's,

let alone
chief executive officer.

Uh, I'm just--I'm not sure
that my background--

If you're thinking
of your literary ambitions,

you don't need to give that up.

It's not a full-time commitment.

T.S. Eliot was a banker.

Wallace Stevens ran
an insurance company

in Connecticut.

Herman Melville, your favorite,

he worked as a customs officer.

It's a long list.

My brother's done his homework.

Well.

I mean, that certainly
gives me a lot to, uh,

to think about, uh...

I'd have to talk
to Alicia first.

You take your time,
take your time.

It's the biggest decision
you're gonna make in your life.

We can hold off
Beech and Nettleson

for another week or two.

I mean, I would probably
have to get a haircut,

shave the mustache.

Mm.

Okay, um...
you give me a week to decide.

Thank you.
I'm, uh, I'm very grateful.

My head was still spinning

when I returned
to the guest bedroom.

As the Viet Cong
mounted attacks

down the length
of South Vietnam,

the massive buildup of North
Vietnamese Army regular--

I told Alicia what her father
and uncle had offered me.

They what?

What do you mean?

How's Cornel?

Restless but fine.

Yeah, they, um...

Yeah, they told me that
if I came out as an executive,

they wouldn't sell Dr. Todd's
to Beech and Nettleson.

They would stay on
for a transition

and then...

basically turn the company
over to me.

Yeah.

They didn't talk about money
or stock options or anything.

I mean, not that that would
matter one way or the other.

-Wow.
-Wow.

Yeah, wow.

-Wow.
-Yes.

That's the last thing
I expected from those two.

I thought, you know,
to them I was, like,

from another planet.

Oh, you, honey.

They know you're smart.

They just have
to get used to you.

I just don't feel comfortable
with them.

I...

Their wealth, manners.

Genteel Southern white politics.

Just--I know you feel the same.

Mm. Well, times change.

And people change.

Ah. Private detectives.

Don't be a broken record.

Dad must have talked to Mom
about this.

This would mean we would live
in Richmond.

But you never signed
a contract, right?

It was just a verbal agreement.

-You're kidding, right?
-Yes, of course.

Of course I'm kidding.

Yeah.

It is a stunner.

Isn't it just
a wee bit tempting?

No.

No, not at all.

No.

No, I'd be drunk or dead
before I hit my mid-30s.

Oh, Dad barely spent five hours
a day at Dr. Todd's.

The company runs itself.

You could continue writing.

Vermont will be the summer home.

You really want me
to take this offer, don't ya?

No, of course not.

And I don't want you
not to take it either.

There would be support
with the children.

Enough money for private school.

We could build our own house.

You know what this offer is.

This means you have a family.

How'd you leave it?

I told 'em
I'd have to talk to you.

I said I'd get back to them
after this trip to Vermont.

Well, it's a huge decision.

We'll sleep now, sweetie,
come to bed.

You have two flights
and a long drive

ahead of you tomorrow.

Yeah.

Thanks.

Breakfast?

Oh, no, no,
I'm eager to get on my way.

Cornel woke me up.

Hey.

Thought I'd bring him
to see his daddy for breakfast.

Good morning.

-Good morning.
-Good morning.

Hi.

Oh!

Don't think about taking a cab.

I mean, there's really no point

in you driving all the way
out there and back.

It's a pleasant ride
to Byrd Field.

Do you want to use
Benjamin's shaver?

Honey.

That man is unstable.

Well, Daddy, of course he is.

What 22-year-old man isn't?

I wouldn't want him stable.

All right.

Oh. What do you think, Cornel?

-Hm?
-Hm?

Should I...

-Good.
-Oh, okay.

I won't be long,
I'll be right back.

My father was wearing
a khaki jacket.

I didn't see him again
for 30 years.

Can we stop for a moment?

We don't have
to change cards yet.

This is for Sloane.

Sloane, the microphone
has fallen.

Just adjust the mic.

This time,
run it under the shirt.

She smells like
desire itself.

What do I smell like?

Especially to a young woman.

Can she pick up the odor
of the medications?

The anti-androgens
and the Taxotere.

And the bisphosphonates

that keep my bones
from breaking under my weight.

The smell of dried feces
clinging to my ass.

Tell me again why I came home
from the hospital.

Well, I'm sure
you're a lot happier here.

Emma's nearby,
and everything's familiar.

Where the hell is my wife?

Sorry.

I had to step out.

I got a text on my phone
I had to answer right away.

Okay, Leo, um, I think we've
gotten a little off track.

Yeah, you messed with
the continuity.

It's gonna look edited.

Sorry?

You go on talking.

I know most of the stuff,
some of it, anyway.

No, you don't.
You don't know any of it.

No.

Some of this
I've never even told myself.

It's...

This is a gift to you, my love.

You will know me.

You've been talking
for almost an hour.

Maybe you should take a break.

How old are you, Sloane?

Twenty-four.

Why?

Yeah.

When I was 22...

I'd already been married,
fathered a child,

gotten divorced.

By the time I was
your tender age, Sloane,

I had... ruined my life.

Imagine if everything good
that could ever happen to you

has already happened.

You were a hero.

You stood up against the war,
the draft.

Does she really
believe that?

I wanna continue.

Turn on the camera.

Lights, please.

Let's go, come on.

Okay, let's pick up
from when you arrived

in Canada as a draft resister.

Leonard Fife.
December 22, 2023.

I changed planes
in Washington D.C.,

Washington National
it was called then.

I had a cashier's check
for $23,000

from the Federal Reserve Bank
of Richmond in my pocket.

This was to pay
for the Vermont house...

the title to which
was to be held

solely by the Alicia
Violet Chapman Trust.

Perhaps that
eight-millimeter film

still exists somewhere,

proof that Leonard Fife
was seen, and filmed,

in Washington National Airport

on March 31st, 1968,
10:58 a.m.

Flight 291
is now boarding.

All passengers please proceed
to Gate Four.

This documentary
will make Leonard Fife

as big in the Canadian
collective memory

as Glenn Gould.

It will resurrect all his films.

It will make the public
rethink what it means

to be an artiste engagé.

From your position
against the war

to your most recent work.

It's a token of respect.

Believe me, Leo will come off
as totally sympathetic.

It will be their film, Leo.

All set, Mr. Fife.

Have a great flight.

I felt suddenly giddy.

As if something
was about to happen.

A big reveal which will affect
everyone on the plane.

As if the plane
is about to explode,

and I would be
the sole survivor.

Wait.

You were smoking on an airplane?

This was 1968.

Ah, yeah.

Of course, sorry.

May I continue?

Please.

I grew up in Strafford.

About 20 miles northwest
of Boston proper.

I'm, um, headed up
to Montpelier in Vermont.

Goddard College.

Oh, yeah, yeah,
that's a good school.

It is, yeah,
I got a teaching job there.

I'm buying a place.

I should be back with the car
in a couple of days.

After college,
I headed south.

I met Amy in a bar
in St. Petersburg.

Amy was 18.

I was on my way to Cuba.

-Hi.
-Hey.

I never made it to Cuba.

We were married
four months later.

She was the sweetest thing.

She was already
a month pregnant.

She named our daughter Heidi

because that was
her favorite book.

True.

I was working on a novel.

You wrote a novel?

Ah, no, no, no.

It was just...

It was awful, shit.

Pretentious literary drivel.

No, I have no idea what happened
to the manuscript.

Things...

Things disappear, they get lost.

Left behind.

Like people...

you once loved, who loved you.

A writer.

Yes.

Like any self-absorbed
20-year-old man

who wants to be regarded
as a writer,

much more than he wants
to write.

Yeah, From Here to Eternity,

they call that writing.

Bullshit, you know,

I read that book
in a day.

That's not--that's not writing.

It's fucking--it's typing.

Who doesn't know
how to define love

because he's never
loved anyone.

I love you, Amy.

I love you, I promise.

I'm never gonna leave you,
all right?

I promise. I love you.

-Please, Leo.
-I love you.

Please.

Maybe
if he says it enough,

he will feel it.

Her name was Amanda.

But you're not listening,
you're not listening.

Without emotion,
there is no color, right?

And without color,
no emotion, okay?

- Franz Kline, right?
- Where's Amy?

- She's home.
- Franz Kline, Franz Klein.

Listen, if color is invisible...

is there no emotion?

Jesus.

Art is about waiting,
even in painting.

Take Leo here, he's waiting.

-No I'm not, I'm not waiting.
-You're not writing.

-That's called waiting.
-I'm writing.

- I'm getting beer.
- -He's writing, he's writing.

Okay? Look, look,
history is waiting, right?

Yeah? Leo,
what are you waiting for?

You'll never
be a great painter
if you keep talking.

- Fuck off.
- I'm waiting for, you know,

everything to just
kind of fall into place.

Yeah, right, there you go.

See? See? 'Cause art
doesn't have a subject, okay?

Documentaries have subjects,
all right?

What's that?

It's the novel he's not writing.

"The first move
he ever made

was to crawl for the door,
and every move since."

Not bad.

Well... well, there's more
where that came from.

Can I have a ciggy?

Oh, this is--this is, uh,
Stanley Reinhart.

He, uh, he paints big.

Real big.

Amanda.

Clark.

Amanda was a jazz pianist.

She said she was the mistress
of Gerry Mulligan,

but he was always on the road.

Amy.

Amanda.

Alicia.

All those "A"s.

I made love
to Amanda once.

And Amy did not find out.

No consequences.

But I couldn't believe
that I wouldn't do it again.

And then, again.

Until Amanda has fallen in love
with me.

And Amy would find out.

Well, I'll tell her myself.

Or... or someone who knows you
or me will tell her,

and...

and then Amy won't have
any choice but to leave me.

Do you love her?

It's an impasse, then.

It's fine.

It's fine.

It's all right, Leo.

Now, come back to bed.

There's no other way

to escape two
unacceptable alternatives

than to create a third.

Stop. That's enough.

Stop this now.

He needs a break.

He's confused.

It's his medication.

I won a Genie Award,
and a Gemini.

We won an Oscar.

He confabulates
like he's dreaming.

It's wrong to be doing this.

Most of what he's saying
is either misremembered

or half-invented.

It's wrong to be
filming this, Malcolm,

even if you end up not using it.

I made a career...

from...

getting truth out of people...

that told me what
they wouldn't tell others.

And now, it's my turn.

And I can't tell the truth
unless that camera's on,

and you are my witness.

This is my final prayer.

That whether or not
you believe in God...

you don't lie when you pray.

He seems
to want to continue.

Hit the lights, please.

Photography
versus life.

Reality versus image.

Susan Sontag's On Photography.

Seminal work.

Six essays.
I'm sure you've all read this.

If you haven't, you will have,
by next class.

Okay. Yeah.

"After the event has ended,"
Sontag writes,

"the picture will still exist,

conferring on the event
a kind of immortality

that would never
otherwise have existed.

While real people are out there
killing other real people,

the photographer stays behind
his or her camera,

creating an image world
that bids to outlast us all."

Jamie, you wanna
turn the lights out?

Okay. Famous photograph.

Yeah, this was taken
by photojournalist Eddie Adams

the morning
of February 1st, 1968.

It shows the execution

of Vietcong prisoner
Nguyen Van Lem...

by General Nguyen Ngoc Loan...

on Ngo Gia Tu Street, Saigon.

This photograph won Adams
a Pulitzer Prize.

Van Lem will never die.

General Loan will never die.

Every time
this photograph is seen...

they're alive again.

Emma?

Ms. Flynn, you disagree?

There's another way to put it.

Van Lem isn't going
to be living forever.

He's going to be dying forever,

every time someone
shows that image.

One second!

Did you... did you really
not know this

about the wife in Virginia,
and the son,

and the other wife
and the baby?

Jesus, Sloane.

Leave it alone.

He's mixing things together,

memories, films, fantasies,
other people's stories.

Emma knows the story of Fife
better than anyone.

She's been living
with him 30 years.

I know everything
I need to know.

Jesus, you're talking about me

like I'm not
in the fucking room!

I can hear you!

Darling, I'm sorry.

Right. It-it's not about
the meds either, she's wrong.

Emma is wrong.

She doesn't know
everything she needs to know.

You believe me, right, Rene?

Let's take a break.

No. No breaks, no, no, we work.

Come on, let's just keep going.

Can we do that?

Okay. Lower the lights.

Dark, I need dark.

You, get behind
your machine there.

Your... Errol Morris doohickey,
whatever you call it.

Interrotron.

Based on the technique
you pioneered.

Not me.

Sigmund Freud.

The interviewer's
not in the sight line.

It's that simple, right?

Uh, you position yourself
so that the subject

can only look
directly down the lens.

And if you're
silent long enough,

you're unseen long enough...

people will talk,
they can't help themselves.

Freud.

He was sitting there in his
chair next to the chaise.

He understood this very well.

Listen.

Wait.

Leo, do you need some water?

Yeah.

Yeah, I saw that...

documentary that you made
about Chernobyl.

Yeah, I could count
the inaccuracies

with eight fingers, one hand.

Leo.

Get him some water, Sloane.

I'm just doing
what I always did,

spoke the truth, uh-huh.

But not you.

No, no, no, uh-uh.

You fraud.

I don't wanna see you anymore.

Fraud.

Fraud!

Yeah. I wanna see Emma up here.

I want my wife.

I want Emma!

Yeah. Put Emma on there.

Have a seat.

Lights.

I'm here, Leo.

Yeah? Hi.

Okay, let's start
with In the Mist,

the documentary
about Dow Chemical testing

Agent Orange in New Brunswick
for use in Vietnam.

That put you on the map.

You almost went to jail for it.

The way from Boston
to Montpelier

led past The Fens
and north through Strafford,

the town where I was raised.

I thought I might
want to write about it,

so I decided to stop
and pick up a map.

Mr. Leonard Fife!

Long time, no see.

Good to see you, Jimmy.

Times moves fast, huh?

Ah, well, not when you're
scoopin' ice cream, boss.

The regular?

Yeah, what was that?

Ah! Coffee and a bran muffin.

Buttered, heated.

All right, sounds good.

You know what?
You never told me.

What was Cuba like?

Cuba?

Leo.

Is everything okay?

Yeah, yeah. I hitched.

You hitched.

From college?

Pa, you'll have to hurry

if you're gonna catch
the 9:27 train.

We have a lot to talk about.

Listen to me, Leonard.

You can't walk out on the world
for being what it is.

You're 18,

and you're dismissing the world
because it's not

as idealistic as you are?

It may turn out,
in a decade or two,

you'll discover
you could have done more

to help the poor and oppressed

by staying in college
and getting your degree.

Or at least
serving your country.

Then wandering off
like some sort of hobo.

It's my decision, so-so please,

stop telling me
why I should stay in college.

Why should I become a doctor
or some kind of businessman?

Reverend, I imagine
you wanna comfort my mother,

since she's the one
who called you here.

Are you going out, Leo?

Don't worry, I'll be back.
I'm not leavin' for good.

Not till after Christmas,
anyway.

Where will you go
after Christmas?

Where can you go
after you've left college

and your home?

To Cuba.

Cuba.

What a grand idea.

Back when I was your age,

I came damn close
to running off to Spain

to fight with
the Lincoln Brigade.

Some of my friends did.

Had brilliant careers
ahead of 'em,

in spite of being communist.

Say, maybe you wanna
try a darker tie.

The ones that came back, though,
found it wasn't so easy

to pick up where they left off.

Things had changed.

Russkies, the Chinese.

Gotta run "toot sweet."

Look. You pick out
a couple of ties you like

for my brother-in-law.

You got good taste,

my son thinks
one hell of a lot of you.

Let's hope he doesn't
jump the traces

and follow you off to Cuba,
for Christ's sake.

I'll be back tomorrow.

You know, I wrote
a recommendation letter

to Rumford, don't you?

Yes, sir, I do.

Your parents are proud
of you, Leo, proud.

You're all they've got.

You decide to go back
to Rumford,

maybe I can make a few calls.

Come by the house.

We can have a few drinks
and talk this thing out,

man to man.

Promise me that?

That's-that's very generous
of you, Mr. Callahan.

I won't let you down.

No.

Happy New Year.

Oh. Tell Mr. Varney
I said hello, and...

...don't forget to lock up.

Happy New Year.

Uh, wait a second.

I don't get it,
this doesn't make sense.

What? What don't you get?

There were...
Give me an example.

It all connects.

Well, the clothes,
for one thing.

The clothes you lifted
from the store,

gloves and Pendletons,
those are winter clothes.

Sounds like you were going
to Canada, not Cuba.

Did you ever make it to Cuba?

No, no, it was over
before I got there.

Um...

Florida.

I... I got as far as Florida.

The girl who got pregnant
with the baby Heidi?

Amy.

What about the trip
across the country?

Malcolm gave me
a copy of On the Road.

He told me you took
a trip like that.

Sloane!

That was a cockful,

stupid thing,
yeah, it was me.

My buddy, Nick De Fina.

So, he gave her
a copy of On the Road.

He's fucking her.

Yes, he is.

And Diana knows about it.

And Sloane thinks she doesn't.

She thinks she's in love
with this 50-year-old man.

Oh, he's fucking her,
all right.

Diana deserves better.

She is better than him.

Now, from page one,

we know how
our biography will end.

The subject dies.

But with an interview...

no, you can't be sure
how the thing will turn out.

Malcolm would be nowhere
without Diana.

He'd be making
local TV commercials

in Winnipeg.

Or promotional docs
for Caribbean timeshares.

He convinced her
he was more talented than her.

How do I know?

So, where are you from?

Uh, well...

Because I did
the same thing

when I seduced her.

Yes, yeah, yeah, Bonneil,
my parents also.

Yeah. I love having you
in the class.

Oh, I love... I love
this opportunity,

it's, uh, it's so inspiring.

So, Nick, he, I don't know,

feeling guilty
about everything, I guess,

he goes to a priest,
he confesses,

about the car
and the blind bugger,

and the priest calls the cops.

So, that's the end of it,
the end of our big adventure.

We, uh... we go home.

I was never the same.

This is hard on me, Leo.

I mean, I know I'm not
the one who's sick,

but this is like
some kind of post-mortem.

You're exhausted.

The meds are messing
with your mind, darling.

You're confused.

You're saying things that
shouldn't be said on camera!

Can we please
just stop this now

and try again
when you're feeling better?

When am I feelin' better?

I'm never feeling better,
you know that.

A priest turned
you and your buddy in.

I thought that--

We drove
across the country.

Made it all the way
to California, actually,

going to Australia.

We ended up there...

at a YMCA.

It's time to change
your bag, Mr. Fife.

You need to go to the restroom.

Let's take a break.

Sloane, get the mic, please.

Up!

That's it. Jacket.

All right.

Now.

Sidestep, nice and easy,
that's good.

Okay, pants.

And down.

That's good.

- Okay. All right.
- Okay.

Call me when you're
ready to be wiped.

Yes.

I could go silent,

the way I did
when I stopped eating.

Then I would disappear.

What's left of me
is in my brain.

When you have no future,

all you have left is your past.

And if your past
is a lie, like mine,

especially to those
closest to you,

a fiction...

then you can't exist,

except as
a fictional character.

We've got plenty
of good material.

Why don't we break for the day?

Or at least
for some lunch.

I can go make us
some sandwiches.

Why is he doing this?

What?

This.

He wants to confess.

What?

That he's a coward
and he never loved anyone.

Is it true?

No.

We've got a lot of material.

Sometimes, you don't know
what you know

until you see it afterwards.

He never saw his son again?

He ran into Cornel
in Montreal at a screening.

I was there.

Rene?

You've done so much
for him, Emma.

I'll go make us
those sandwiches.

If your doctor ever
asks you to stop by, don't.

Test results.

Cancer?

What kind?

Not the good kind.

You're a survivor, Leo.

We'll get through this together.

We're a team.

Merry Christmas.

Happy Holidays.

Sontag and Freud died
over the holidays.

Excruciating deaths.

How can so much suffering
have no meaning?

Uh, okay.

Where's Emma?

Making some lunch.

Are you all right?

Yeah, I just... just
give me time to finish this.

I know you think
this is a fiction.

I don't care.

I don't care
what you do with my story

once I finish telling it.

I don't care.

Cut and splice it,
do whatever you want.

Yeah, I heard you whispering,
I'll be dead.

Do whatever you want with it.

But you will have witnessed
me telling my wife,

my beautiful wife,

what kind of man she married.

It will verify

that there was this intimacy
between a man and his wife.

This intimacy
could not have happened

without this camera
and this microphone.

Where is she?

Come on, it's a natural,
you and me.

I can make documentaries,
but you,

you have people skills.

I think we'd make a great team.

Emma!

Emma.

Where is she?

Lunch is ready.

- Let's take a break.
- No, not now.

Let's go. Lights down.

Come on.

Come on!

Okay.

Okay.

Hi.

Where were we?

Uh, you were
in Feeney's Pharmacy.

Feeney's, right, okay, yeah.

All right, yeah,
I stopped to get a map.

-Here you go.
-Thanks.

Montpelier was 150 miles
northwest of Strafford.

I missed the turnoff
for the interstate

and took U.S. 4 north.

Leo?

Are you all right?

No, no, I, um...

Wait a minute, I don't know,
starting in the wrong place.

I don't know
where the hell we are.

I'm confused!

Now, uh...

Yeah, just, um...

You wanted to hear
about Into the Mist, right?

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

It was a fluke.

Can you believe this?

Stop the war. Can I help you?

After I
arrived in Canada,

I met a fellow from Oklahoma,
Ralph Dennis.

Where you from?

New England.

-Up here for a visit?
-Yeah.

Uncle Sam's after me.

You speak French?

Uh, like a year in high school.

So you're a guy

with all the talents
but no skill.

And you don't speak French,

and you don't own
any property here?

No.

Don't look good, brother.

You're gonna need landed status
if you wanna stay in Canada,

and that won't happen in Quebec.

You need to get to a province
where they have use for Anglos.

I know this fellow
who manages a truck farm

in Gagetown, New Brunswick.

I work there in the summers.

You should come along.

It began as a lark.

Photograph the different
color dustings,

then make
a psychedelic montage.

I thought it was trippy,

but it turned out it was
a secret American Army test

by Dow, of Agent Orange.

It was a scandal,

and I was a documentary
film director.

Then, I became a good
documentary film director.

Wait a minute,
what the hell's going on?

I don't think I...

Is the camera rollin'?

What... What's goin' on?

I must sound like a madman,

one of those
homeless schizophrenics

wandering about,

muttering to themselves.

Maybe that's the idea,
maybe it's just

keep the camera rollin'
until...

Ol' Leo Fife kicks the bucket...

on camera.

Where's Malcolm?

Uh, he's in the bathroom.

Come on, I ain't got all day!

Come on.

Malcolm and Diana.

You'll all be heroes.

Be the toast of Canada,
the whole bunch of you.

What a terrible thing
to say, Leo.

-Sorry about that.
-Yeah, welcome back.

All right, where were we?
Come on, let's go.

Okay, here we go.

Sloane?

Leonard Fife,
December 22, 2023.

Yeah, I rented a car
at the airport.

Yeah, that's a good school.

It is, yeah, I got
a teaching job there.

I'm buyin' a place.

I should be back with the car
in a couple of days.

My plan was to stay over

at the painter
Stanley Reinhart's house,

a friend from Boston,

and his wife, Gloria.

Stanley taught at Goddard.

He helped me get hired
and find a house.

Hey, Leo!

Hey!

- Welcome!
- Okay!

Up here, check this out.

Wow.

Hey, man, I'm sorry
I took so long.

Ah, don't
worry about it.

Is this some new work?

Uh, yeah, yeah.

I've, uh, I've hit
a bit of a rough patch.

I've, uh...

but you know, I like
workin' with my hands,

I always have.

And, uh, when I'm
lookin' for inspiration,

I've been choppin'
some wood, so.

I like to imagine
the wood stacked all neat

as I go to sleep, you know?

-Here you go.
-Thank you.

How's, uh, how's Gloria?

She's inside,

she's probably sleepin'.

Oh, she's in bed.

Yeah. Shit, I guess
it makes for a long story.

I, uh... I tried to get her
to go see a shrink.

I even said I'd go with her.

She's got an answer
for everything, you know?

Mm.

The truth is,
she's a goddamn masochist,

'cause the more she hates
me and this life,

the happier she becomes.

All right. A, uh, a masochist.

Yeah, man, it's the...
it's the way she talks.

I thought she found a lover.

Then, uh, she laughed
in my face, and, uh...

that night, I drove
down to Plainfield,

and I, uh,
I laid one of my students.

You know, you can't
keep going like this.

Well, if nothing improves
by next year, I'll...

I'll try and make it
in New York.

And what about the students
you're counseling

on avoiding the draft?

What, you're just...
you're just gonna abandon them?

They don't need me.

Even though I'm the only guy
on the faculty

that served in the military,

the Canadian border
is so close,

they could walk across.

The Canadians would
welcome them with open arms.

Right, but what about...
what about me and Alicia?

I mean, we're moving here.

I'm bullshitting myself.

Besides, I'm not ready
for the New York scene.

- Gloria.
- Ciao, Leo.

Stanley told me
you were coming.

There was a phone call.

Alicia's mother?

I told 'em
you would call 'em back.

-Where is that?
-In the house.

Follow me.

I'm sorry I missed it.

It's okay.

I'll fix you something.

- Yes?
- Hello, Benjamin.

This is, uh, this is Leonard.

Sorry, I just got in.

What's going on?

Stanley told me
that, uh, that Jessie called?

It's all right now.

We were scared for a while.

Did something happen to Cornel?

No, no,
Cornel is just fine.

He's sound asleep now.

Okay, what's... what's going on?

- Leo? It's Jessie.
- Jessie, what's wrong?

Alicia's fine.

She miscarried this afternoon.

Jesus.

Is she, um, is, uh...

Is...

Is she all right?

Yes.

And, um, the... the fetus,

is the fetus...

It was a girl, Leo.

It wasn't right, though,
it was malformed,

the doctor said.

Dr. Gold, an excellent man.

-He's Jewish.
-Did she fall?

It came on very quickly
right after lunch.

She started hemorrhaging,
and we called the ambulance.

She's fine now.

It's probably a blessing

since the baby was,
well, you know.

She said to give you her love

and tell you she's feeling
fine, just tired.

Do you think I should
just, um, should I just...

Should I just leave
for Richmond right away?

I mean, should I leave tonight?

It's not necessary.

Everything is over
and done for now.

She'll call you tomorrow.

Just get yourself
a good night's sleep.

Thank you, thank you, Jessie,
and Benjamin, too.

Okay, goodnight.

Um, I'm going to bed.

Hey.

Jeez, what a fucking shame, man.

What?

What are you...
what are you gonna do?

I don't know, she, uh...

She... she really wanted
that baby, and, uh...

And the house, and, God...

Yeah.

I guess I'll just leave
first thing in the morning.

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

Okay.

Okay.

Come here, man.

Give me a hug.

I'm so sorry, man.

I'll set up the cot
for you, okay?

Okay.

Thanks, man.

I was nearly 30 when
I decided to find my father.

My mother never spoke of him.

It was easier than I thought.

Computers with data banks
had recently come in use.

I'd often thought
about this drive.

Thinking about it
and actually doing it

are different things.

Suffer the Innocents

was about the actions
of Bishop McCann

and his subsequent trial
in Montréal.

The need to balance
society's obligation

to denounce and deter actions

like those of Bishop McCann
with the bishop's career

as a distinguished
spiritual leader...

-Satan!
-...and educator.

Satan's spawn!

A monster sent from hell
to defile the innocent!

Did I say "defile"?

Fuck! That's what you did!

You fucked me!

You ate my childhood!

The amazing thing,
what everybody remembers,

is that you never
pan back to the judge.

You closed in
on Bishop McCann.

...will be
required to report weekly

to a probation officer.

You are free to leave
this courtroom.

Ladies and gentlemen,
thank you for coming.

It's my pleasure to introduce
Montréal resident,

the filmmaker Leonard Fife.

Thank you, merci beaucoup.

Um...

Emma, come here.

My wife and my partner
in art and life,

Emma Fife.

Without her, I am nothing.

That one was
probably... what, Emma?

Two years we worked
on that one?

Thank you, I appreciate it.

Congratulations, Dad.

What?

I'm your son, Cornel.

- Who's this?
- It's Alicia's son.

That's right.

I'm your son.

I don't have a son.

Stay away from me.

How's your mother?

She's good.

Uh, she remarried.

She's still in Richmond.

She has two children,
she has a good life.

And you?

-Married?
-Uh, yeah.

Uh, working at UVA.

Administration.

-That's in Richmond.
-Charlottesville.

So, he never told you?

I knew, in a fashion.

I don't know what to say.

I'm sorry you had to see that.

I'm happy I found him.

You know, I...

saw what I needed to see.

What was that?

Um...

Can I keep in touch with you?

Do you have an e-mail address?

Electronic mail.

Yeah, of course
I have an e-mail.

Still working things out
with the computers.

You like Montréal?

Yes.

We have a wonderful marriage.

He's faithful to me.

We're good together.

You'll tell him about our talk?

We'll see how that works out.

Are you sure
he's just sleeping?

He's very fatigued.

All creation starts
with a single cell of energy

that explodes with a bang
and becomes the universe.

Cancer starts the same way.

A single rogue cell breeds
a tumor that metastasizes

and sets to eating the body...

and eventually devours it.

That's enough,
I want you to leave.

You said this would be
a token of respect.

We have a contract
with the CBC.

Fuck your contract.

He wanted to do this.

I never should've agreed.

He's waking up.

- Stanley?
- No.

It's Gloria.

I brought you an extra blanket

'cause it gets cold in here
when the fire goes out.

Thank you.

Is there any more wood
to put on the fire?

Yes.

Ah, that's great.

I hope Stanley and I talking
didn't keep you from sleeping.

The walls are thick.

Is he asleep now?

He's dead to the world.

Couldn't wake him
if I wanted to, and I don't.

Are you gonna leave him?

Yeah, probably.

For another man?

For another life.

Well, here's to your new life.

That was fucking scary.

Are you sure he's okay?

No, he's not okay.

I have to take him
from you now.

Just want this pain to end.

Mm.

The cancer's appetite.

I'm having so many new thoughts.

Wonderful thoughts.

That's it.

Just... pack up and go.

Come.

Don't you dare.

Okay, okay.

Okay.

I'm okay.

Hey.

Get this in the bedroom.

What do you want?

We're packing up.

Is there anything we can do?

No.

Just leave us.

I'm applying a fentanyl patch.

What did they have,
the other men I respected?

What did I not do that Stanley
and Ralph and Nick did?

They served in the military.

Sixty-seven.

Again.

One thirty-eight.

All right, next.

Take this.

Mr. Fife, get dressed.

Meet me downstairs.

About 96.

Take a seat.

Your name?

Leonard Fife.

Date of birth.

I mean, it should all be there.

I'm making sure
this is your file

and not some other idiot's.

Um...

March 27th...

March 28th, 1942.

Place of residence.

Strafford, Massachusetts.

Mr. Fife...

are you a homosexual?

No, sir.

No.

No, sir, no, no.

Enough.

You're 1-Y, Mr. Fife.

That means
you'll only be called up

in the case
of total mobilization.

Take this form and report
back to the sergeant.

Get your stuff and go home.

You'll receive your draft card
in the mail in a few days.

- Mr. Fife?
- Hm?

He felt as if
being pulled into a black hole

from which
not even light can escape.

He fights its pull.

He tries to stay here,

standing on the borderline
of one country and another,

between the past and present.

Toward evening, something
in his throat rattled.

He gasped.

His body twitched

as if to shake off
a fallen leaf

or a feather.

O Canada.