All language subtitles for Lee.2023e

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We have to move.
Come on!

Bombs blasted.
Soldiers were shot.

Yes. I expect those things
would happen in a war.

Well, if you know,

then no reason for me

to keep answering
your questions.

Did you answer one?
I must've missed it.

What do you expect to get from this?

"Get from this"?

If you think that's
a difficult question,

you might want to reconsider
your future in journalism.

I'm curious.

That never bodes well.

Well, maybe for you.

You're making a big deal
out of nothing.

They're just pictures.

I don't believe that.

There must be stories
behind them.

Why does it matter?

They should be heard.

Don't you want the world
to know about you?

Well, isn't that why
you went there?

You think I went to war
so people would know my name?

- I didn't say that.
- I think you did.

I'm not trying
to interrogate you.

All interviews
are interrogations.

The good ones, anyway.

Were all of these published?

- Some were.
- But not all?

What do I get?

What do you mean?

I tell you
about these pictures.

I give you all of my stories.

What do I get in return?

Does it have to be
so transactional?

Well, that's what life is.

I'll tell you a story about me

if you'll tell me a story
about you.

Fine.

I'd been the model,

I'd been the muse,
I'd been the ingenue.

But I was done
with all of that.

I was good at drinking,

having sex,
and taking pictures.

And I did all three
as much as I could.

Life was fun.

Take the lobster,
put it to your right ear,

as if you were on the telephone
with your lover.

Beautiful,
beautiful, beautiful.

That's great.

How many arguments
do you think they've had

since we left?

You think they actually
got out of bed?

Hello?

No.
He's not a "lunatic".

He's calculated. Evil.
And he won't last.

- But the Germans seem to love him.
- Well, the French do not.

- Vive la France, mon amour.
- Lunch is served.

Bravo. Come sit.

Merci.

Please,
no more politics.

So, I was thinking,

we should swim
before cocktails this evening.

Wonderful. I agree.

But seriously,

France will not stand
for his ideas,

we will move against him.

And when that fails,
England will be ready

to ride to your rescue
once more.

-Ah.
- Darling, you're here!

We were going to send out
a search party.

The English love to brag
about saving the day.

It helps that you usually wait

until the last second.

- Roland.
- Hi.

Roland. Welcome.

Was it a hideously long journey?

From Cassis?

From London,
of course.

-I got stuck behind a farmer.
- You know Roland, don't you?

If I did, would I like him?

He's quite charming.

Mm. So I won't get bored

if we continue
with this introduction?

I doubt it.

His art gallery is selling
your tits and ass.

How much?

Oh. I get to speak for myself?

But clearly not priced
high enough.

Sold far too quickly.

I'd like to have
held onto them longer.

Suits me. I never did like
to hang around.

Haven't you heard?
That's what all ex-models do.

They travel the world

and pretend
to be someone interesting.

What about you?
Why don't I know you?

Well, I'm not
particularly important.

I just peddle their wares.

Well, if you're not
that important,

maybe you should
cut your commission?

I work night and day
for you, my dear man.

Oh.

You don't look like someone
who works night and day.

And there's paint on your hands,

so I assume
you're also an artist.

I see you don't wash it off,

is that because
you want people to know?

Or do you leave it there because you need
to convince yourself that you are?

And you pour your own wine

before asking the host if you could.

I'll bet the members
of any major family in England

know your name before you
walk through the door.

You're part
of the establishment,

and you hate that.

Am I right?

My lot are Quakers.
Not exactly establishment.

But otherwise...

She can see us all.

Can I have a go?

Please.

Good luck with that!

Hmm. You...

grew up staunchly
middle class,

which means you were poor for the rich people
and rich for the poor people,

so you feel
you never fitted in either.

You're used to people
getting distracted

just by looking at you.

You've learned to use that.

Which makes you
cleverer than most.

You dislike anyone
who questions you,

especially when you know
you're wrong.

And you have secrets.

Many...

that you'll never share.

I'm never wrong.

That's our Lee.

And I can pour
my own wine, too.

Salute!

I've known you almost as long
as I've known Jean.

And I love you nearly as much.

We miss you.

Come back to Paris with us.

I don't know
who I am in Paris any more.

The question is,

who do you want to be now,
Lee Miller?

And what are you going to do
about that?

I've seen your work,
you know.

Tits and ass,

I remember.

No, I mean your real work,

your photographic work.

You're really very impressive.

Thank you.

I'd rather
take a picture than...

be one.

Do you mind if I come in?

You've known me
for four hours.

Just imagine
what I could know after five.

Roland?

Roland?

Ah.

Hello.

Morning.

We were taking bets

on what time
we'd see you today.

Mm. Who won?

Guess.

Well, he's much less square
than I would've thought.

Ah, he lives.
Morning.

Barely.

- Morning.
-Morning.

May I?

Please.

Now look here.

If I fall down these steps
and die,

be sure to say
nice things about me.

Don't let Man Ray
go on one of his rants.

"She lived as she looked,

"frivolously
and with adventure."

I'm not frivolous.

I'm not.

Where should we go from here?

Well...

Certainly not back down there.

I leave tomorrow.

Come with me to London?

When was the last time you spent longer
than a few months in one place?

How can you possibly
know all there is to know

if you stay in the same place
all the time?

And you find
enough purpose in that?

Well, maybe I haven't
found anything

interesting enough
to keep me around.

Anything or anyone?

God.

Don't run.

Well...

Would you just...

This little lady
at the Shoe and Leather Fair

is showing off dainty footwear
for policemen.

But the serious side of the show
has some very pretty things for you to look at.

And you can
look at the shoes too.

Going from one extreme
to the other,

when Hitler
has his 48th birthday,

they make a show of it
in a big way.

In fact, over there,

the recipe for successful
birthday parties

seems to be something like

throw a few hundred men
on parade,

present a few dozen colours
flapping in the breeze...

- Jesus, look at them all.
- They're idiots.

But dangerous.

They're all brainwashed.

Not everyone can believe this.

Surely they can see
what he is.

But they don't.
Look at them.

This is not an act.

The only
sane response

to tyranny is to paint.

- To create.
- And drink.

And write!
And dance!

I still
don't understand

how none of you saw it coming.

It happened so slowly,

yet kind of overnight.

We woke up one morning

and Hitler was the most
powerful man in Europe.

Even as it was happening
it didn't feel real.

So what did you do?

Well...

I got on with my life.

By then, Europe was at war.

But it all seemed
a long way from London.

Roland, as an artist
and conscientious objector,

had been hired to develop
camouflage techniques

for the war effort.

And we felt safe.

Roland?

Darling, you're back.

Holy hell.

Your turn.

Which attacked the Italian...

Please, let me start dinner.

Come on, I've had a breakthrough.

- You promised.
- I didn't promise.

I make it a point
never to promise anything.

All right.

- How was town?
- Horrible.

It took forever to find a cab.

- Where do you want me?
- Right here, please.

...a considerable blow

to Mussolini...

You ready?

All right,
make me invisible.

If I can make you invisible

then I can hide anything.

...that the
loss of German aircraft

to anti-aircraft defensive...

Be quick, I'm starving.

Queues were dreadful.
But I did find us some butter today.

Mm-hmm.

And they had chilli powder
at Fortnum's,

so if we have to eat rats,

at least
they'll be well spiced.

Concentrate.

That's quite hard to do.

Oh, God.

Oh, Jesus!

Hmm?

Don't be territorial, Audrey.

Editorial, I think you mean.

Excuse me, Miss Withers.
There's a Lee Miller to see you.

The Lee Miller?

What's she doing in London?

Goodness.
Do show her in, Maud.

Do come in.

Thank you.

- Cecil Beaton, hello.
- Well, well.

Something to say?

Lee Miller. I hear you're
the woman to see about a job.

Audrey Withers.

And, yes, I am.
Please, do sit down.

Thank you.

May I?

We don't hire older models.

Oh, don't blow a gasket.

- I'm not a model any more.
- Oh, dear.

- So what exactly are you then?
- Cecil.

Would you give us a moment?

Please.

I'll be back
to fix this disaster.

I do apologise for Cecil.

- He can be a bit of a...
- Monster?

No. He never could hide
his disappointment

that women get old.

That's true.

And not entirely unique
to men in fashion.

But he is irritatingly
talented, so I manage.

Where was this taken?

That's, er, Syria.

Erm, my studio work
is right here.

Er...

Oh, these really are
rather spectacular.

Mm, thank you.

But Cecil is right,
I'm afraid.

We're not hiring
at the moment.

To be frank, what with
all that's going on,

we're not sure how much longer
they'll let us keep at it.

Let me get through
the next issue,

see where we stand
and we'll talk again.

How does that sound?

She didn't say no.

She didn't say yes.

You're looking at this
the wrong way.

Oh, please. You weren't there.

I just wanna do my part,
how hard can it be?

You'll find something,
my love.

God, that is so patronising.

Darling, I need
to tell you something.

What?

I've heard that people in Paris
are going underground.

What do you mean?

It's getting dangerous.

Paul, Nusch, Solange, Jean,

they'll all be in hiding
from the Nazis.

Why didn't you go back to Paris?

I couldn't. Not then.

Paris was occupied
by the Nazis,

and Britain was all alone,

and we were totally cut off.

So, what else
is there to know?

Oh, plenty.

And although my friends were
living under occupation,

even they
were doing something.

Paul and Nusch
had joined the resistance.

But I didn't know that then

and I had no way
of reaching them.

And, er...

And then everyone started
doing their bit.

Roland was out most nights
being an Air Raid Warden.

And I felt useless.

And the more depressed I got,
the smaller my ass got.

Which is usually the opposite.

But did she end up
giving you the job?

Oh, yeah,
she caved pretty quickly.

I think she realised
that wrangling Cecil Beaton

would be a lot more fun
with another woman around.

Cecil Beaton...

Ugh.

- Is everyone all right?
- Mercifully, yes.

Where's Audrey?

There.

It's actually not as bad as it looks.
The structure is sound.

But we will need to move
in the basement for a while.

Are we out of business?

Oh! I don't see
why we should be.

I spoke to the Ministry this morning,
and we have our paper ration.

- Well, that's a relief.
- We also have a mission.

To encourage the women
of Britain to do their duty.

Might I borrow these
for a moment?

- Certainly.
-Thank you.

Maud, come with me.

Er, and you.

- Would you care to join us?
- She's so creative.

Just hold it in position...

- Okay.
- ...with this ridiculous strap thing.

-I can't see a thing.
- Can't see a thing?

- I can't see.
-My gosh.

Here, this is your...
Right here. Right, here we go.

There!

There, that's it.

Oh, goodness.

Maud, you can sit right there.
All right, here we go.

Pay no attention
to the burning building

over my shoulder.

The Blitz
turned houses inside out,

streets upside down,

and created chaos
for the people of London.

But everyone carried on

and I did what I could
to capture it.

Men were sent off to fight.

The wives were left behind
caring for their children.

Without that responsibility

we were able
to be single-minded.

We worked all hours.

Anything to get
the next issue out.

The months rolled by...

...bombs rained down.

It became part of daily life.

There were times
when we froze our asses off,

but we just kept going.

Audrey was a terrific boss

and we became friends.

There wasn't much more to it
than that.

Oh, Audrey.

Children?

Oh, God, no. You?

Oh, God, no.

May I?

So you never
actually wanted children?

Well, I never thought I could.

I was never
cut out for mothering.

Why are you asking an
old woman so many questions?

- Come on, you're not that old.
- Oh.

Now, isn't that like a man?

First, I'm not young enough,
then I'm not old enough.

Just trying to understand.

What?

Trying to understand you.

Target...

I was ambitious.

I was good
at shooting on my own.

Er...

Maybe form a line.

In my experience,

working partnerships
were tricky.

And there can
only be one boss.

Evening, ladies.

But then Davy Scherman
from Life Magazine showed up.

- Hello.
- Hiya.

Not exactly the place I thought

I'd find another Yank.

Uh-huh.

It's a little bit dark.

I know.

May I?

Suddenly it wasn't
a competition, we were a team.

It felt easy.

- Left a little.
- Yes, ma'am.

- Say "Blitz".
-Blitz!

Thank you.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

I'm afraid this is
as far as you can go, ma'am.

No, I...
I'm with Vogue Magazine.

Look, she's with me.

You need
military accreditation

beyond this point.

Oh, God.

The publications
were informed, ma'am.

Only non-military access
for women.

Please make your way
over toward the mess block.

Jeez.

You think they'd let up after I spent hours
in that goddamn car.

Sorry.

Oh.

- Hello.
-Oh, excuse me.

I'm Lee Miller.
I work for Vogue.

Oh! Ann Douglas, ATA.

Wow, you fly.

Only ferrying our bombers
between bases. But...

Yes, I do.

Would you mind
if I took your picture?

Oh, no problem.

Your work, it really, erm...

It lets us know
what's going on out there.

Thank you.

Let's push you back
over here by the door.

Let's try that.

There you go.

See if we can get you
in the magazine.

Oh. Does this sort of thing
get published?

Hopefully.

Would you mind
taking off your hat?

Wonderful. Here we go.

There.

Don't wanna take any more
of your time.

Pleasure meeting you.

Lovely to meet you,
Miss Miller.

Are you still staying
in that shitty hotel?

Not for long if I keep
bringing home broken mirrors.

Mm. Well, you're welcome
to stay here.

- We have the room.
-You sure?

And Roland wouldn't mind?

The only people who care

about the men I'm sleeping with
are the men I'm not sleeping with.

Away?

Where?

The coast.

I'm only a few hours away.

For how long?

A while, I expect.

We're getting ready,
aren't we?

For the invasion of Europe.

Oh, I know as much as you do,
I'm afraid.

I'll be disguising tanks
to look like ice cream kiosks,

but I didn't tell you that.

Davy, take our picture
before he leaves.

Yep.

Aw.

Don't go.
It won't be long.

Stop.

No. No. No!

Not some
poor woman's intimates!

If Lee Miller
thinks she can...

It's not about
what Lee Miller thinks

or doesn't think, Cecil.

This is about our duty
to our readers.

Those of us
without housekeepers

or hot water

care about
a lot more than couture.

- It's not Vogue's place...
- It's not your place!

The pants stay on the line.
Thank you.

Lee.

Cecil.

Well, I think that's what you English call

getting your knickers in a twist.

Only a woman
could have taken these.

Well, thank you.

Audrey, listen to me.

When the time comes,
send me to Europe.

The Ministry
has been very clear

that when the time comes,
our duty will be...

To do our bit. Yes, yes, yes.
I know, I know.

But why should the men
get to decide what that is?

Why can't women go to
the frontline? Why?

As much as I admire
your tenacity, and I do, Lee,

it wouldn't work.

You wouldn't be able to get anything back to us
without military sanction.

It's just fruitless.

I'm sorry.

Ask again.

Yeah. Yeah.

I'll be there.

All right, so long.

When do you go?

Dakota leaves in the morning.

You don't even speak French.

Hey.

Scoot over.

What's going on?
You all right?

That's bullshit.

It's bullshit!

I know
it's not your fault.

But I should have the right
to go as much as you do.

The only reason you get to go
is because you have a set of balls.

Lee,
I was sleeping.

Look, I don't wanna
go anywhere.

I'm happy right here
in this bed with you.

I understand, I really do.

The British
and their damn rules,

they're never gonna send you.

Besides, you're an American.

Holy shit.

Holy shit!

That's right, I'm an American.

I'm an American.

You're a genius,
Davy Scherman.

You're a goddamn,
fucking genius!

Turns out, I'd been barking up
the wrong tree.

The British were never
going to send

a female correspondent
to a war zone.

But the Americans
were different.

They weren't held back
by tradition.

You're absolutely sure
you want to do this?

Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

Will you be all right?

Let's hope so.

Do be careful.

- Please.
- I'll try.

I was born determined.

And I had never felt so alive.

It was all an adventure to me.

I had to be
where the action was

and that was Europe,

and I'd arrived.

And finally had a chance
to see things for myself.

There's no women allowed
in the press briefings.

You've gotta be kidding me.

Is there a powder room around here?

The enemy
is well-trained,

well-equipped,

and battle-hardened.

Our air offensive has reduced
their strength in the air

and their capacity
to wage war on the ground.

As you may know,
we, along with our allies,

have increased the target
bombing over Germany

over the course
of the past few weeks.

Now, you will each be assigned
to specific units

as we continue
to put the pressure

on the ground attack
here in France.

It's pretty lively out there.

Watch your backs, your fronts.

Eyes on the road.

Dismissed.

You!

Well, you must be Lee Miller?

Well,
it's a war zone, Colonel.

Just Lee is fine.

Well, "Just Lee",
there's no women

in the press briefings.

I assume
you received the instruction.

I guess I didn't
hear correctly.

Can you hear me now?

Yes, sir.

We don't send women to combat.

Well, that's a problem
because I'm here.

Which means...

Which means
I have to deal with you.

Follow me.

These doctors perform
over 100 procedures per day.

Every day.

Just hold still.

Excusez-moi.

We need
some scissors here.

Jesus Christ! Light!

I need a light over here.

Here. Here, here.
Over here with that.

- Lights!
-Oh.

Come here.

Even when I wanted
to look away...

I knew I couldn't.

Roland wrote to me every week

begging me to come home.

He didn't understand
why I wanted to be there.

There were moments
when I didn't either.

- May I?
- Of course.

We have to keep going.

Hey.

I've seen you here.

Who are you?

I'm Lee.

- I'm with Vogue Magazine.
- Yeah?

You scouting for models?

I don't need to, found you.

What's your name?

Kurt.

You have beautiful eyes, Kurt.

I've got my mom's eyes.

Lucky boy.

They tell me
I'm going home.

Hey,

can you take my picture?

When I get home
and all handsome

I want my girl
to see how brave I was.

Of course.

Miller.

Will you make sure they print that?

I promise.

Grab your kit.
You're going to Saint-Malo.

- You can hitch a ride with Civil Affairs.
- Really?

Write your own obituary
and send it to your editor

before you leave.

Standard practice.

Don't get excited.
Town's pacified.

Goddamn it!
Get out of here! Move!

What?

Hey! We have to move, come on.

What the hell
are you doing here?

They just said
it was pacified.

No, no.
You can't be here, lady.

Stay there!

Let's go! Eyes on me!

Charlie Three!

This is Baker One-Five.

Still receiving heavy fire
from enemy position. Over!

Coordinates...

Coordinates 325...

364.
364. Over.

Don't mind me.

Up 100, left 200.

Up 100, left 200.

I'd stay away
from that window, Mac.

They've got snipers.

What the fuck
was that?

- Jesus Christ, you again?
- You said to stay here.

- Downstairs now. Now!
- No, wait.

You wanna be useful,

there's a bunch
of French women in the cellar.

- Listen, buddy...
- Find me one

that speaks English. God!

She's the one!
She's the one there!

Shut up!

I'm not done.

You want me to shut up?

She's been talking,

telling the Germans everything.

Stop.

Stop, Madame, that's enough.

Hold your tongue.

Hold your tongue.

Mademoiselle, are you alright?

Tell me what happened, I'm not a soldier.

See?

He wasn't like the others,

I swear.

He was kind.

He said he loved me.

And now I'm scared.

I'm not a collaborator,

I swear I'm not.

He told me he loved me.

Yeah, honey,
that's what they all say.

They all say the
same thing, it's not your fault.

It's not your fault.

Dry your eyes.

What you got?

That evil witch says
her neighbour's

been tipping off the Germans
about your night drops.

And the blonde?

She's just a girl
who got taken advantage of.

Sure she did.

What did you say?

That's what
they all say.

-Private.
- How dare you?

What the hell?

They put up the white flag!

Asshole.

Heil Hitler.

Fuck.

Who do I have to sleep with
to get some dinner around here?

About fucking time.

Not to be sentimental but...

I am glad you're not dead.

Good to see you.

Come on.

So...

Are you all right?

Yeah.

Yeah, I'm fine.

This goddamn
blank page.

Spoken like a true writer.

I want it to be good.

I want it to be true, but I...

I want it to be good.

Worry about
the true part first.

Make it good later.

- I'm happy to see you.
-Yeah, you, too.

It was napalm, wasn't it?

Well, we didn't know
it was napalm

until much later.

Audrey couldn't figure out

why the censors refused
to print it.

Never thanked her.

For what?

Well...

For trying.

What's that?

It's a poem.

By Paul Eluard.

Who's he?

He's... He...

He's my friend.

FREEDOM

"On my school books.

"On my desk.

"And on the trees.

"On the sand.

"On the snow.

"I write your name."

Excuse me.

Allez!

Excuse me.

What're they saying?

That she's a whore.

A dirty, collaborating whore.

No one can tell you
what it feels like.

Shame.

There are different kinds
of wounds.

Not just the ones you can see.

Liberation.

The word was as joyous
as it felt.

People celebrated.

But Paris was just one city.

The war continued
across Europe.

The fighting
was far from over.

And for me, well, things were
just getting going.

David Scherman
and Lee Miller.

Any packages for Lee Miller?

Merci.

Mm-hmm.

Another loving metaphor?

Mm. Hmm.

Oh! God bless you,
Audrey Withers.

If we're heading out do I,
er, do I get to shave first?

That's all right. I'm, er...

I need to see a friend.

- I won't be long.
- All right.

Relax. Come on.
Take it off.

No.
You wanted this.

No.

Come on.

Stop. Please.

No.

- No.
-This is what you want.

Just
shut up. Shut... Shh!

No!
Shut up.

- You fuck, fuck!
- What?

- Get off of her!
-Get off of me.

- Crazy bitch.
-Get away from her.

- Fucker, leave her alone!
- Jesus Christ.

Asshole!

Jesus Christ.

You think
they'd be more grateful.

Get outta here.

Get outta here! Go on!

Dumb bitch.

Fucking...

Are you all right?

Here.

Next time...

cut it off!

Excuse me, madame.

Excuse me, Madame.

I'm looking for someone who lived here.

Madame.

Solange?

Lee.

Oh, Solange!

Solange.

Oh!

Oh, my God.
You're skin and bones.

You're freezing.

Yes.

Sit.

Come sit. Sit.

Solange...

They're gone.

Everyone's gone.

My son's gone.

He was trying to reach
the outskirts of Paris

to welcome the Americans.

We're here now.

Everything will be all right.

They shot him.

- The Germans.
- What?

Jean made him promise not
to join the resistance.

But I...

I could not stop him

after they took
his father away.

- They took Jean away?
- Yes.

Where did they take him?

I looked for him
after they released me.

Released you from...

From... From where, Solange?
I don't understand.

You have to ask
these questions

because you weren't here.

So you don't know.

No.

Come back
to the hotel with me.

What if Jean comes back
and he can't find me?

What if he comes back
and there's this mess?

Please come with me.

I promise
I'll take care of you.

Promise.

Don't make promises
you can't keep.

Davy!

Oh.

Davy!

Davy Scherman!

Lee, what are you doing?

Did they lock...

Did they lock the door?

Come on.

All right, all right.

Where'd you go?
What the hell happened?

Here, drink this.

Okay. All right.

You're a good guy, Davy.

You're one of the good ones.

Yeah. I'm all right.

Really bad things
do happen.

You know?

Bad things do happen
to some of us girls.

Lee...

Lee, honey,
what do you mean by that?

You know what?

We'll talk about it later.

Let's get you to bed, okay?

Lean back.

There you go. There you go.

It's all right.

Well, I think it's safe to say
you're getting the hang of this.

You think?

- It's damn good.
- Oh.

"And by the power of the word

"I start my life again.

-"I am born to know you.
-"To name you."

Liberte!

Oh.

I gave her my helmet.

She pissed in it.

Emptied it out the window.
I'm trying not to look.

You know, disinfects it with hooch.
And then hands it straight back to me.

And being Davy, he put it right back on his
head.

Yep.

That's right.

Men usually do idiotic things
around our Lee.

It feels...

It feels strange to laugh.

We could never laugh
in hiding.

We could barely breathe.

Paris is like a smile

where half the teeth
are missing.

I saw Solange.

They kept her in prison
for three months.

We didn't know where.

We didn't know
if she was alive.

And then one day she was back.

- Why did they take her?
- Who knows.

Evil Nazi logic.

And what's happened to Jean?

Do...

- Do you know anything?
-No.

We just...

We just don't know.
Everyone's looking for someone

but none of us
have any answers.

They're fucking barbarians.

And it's not just Jews.

Artists. Communists.
Homosexuals.

Black people. Gypsies.

Anyone with an opinion.

Anyone who didn't fit
their ideals.

They just disappeared.
And with no warning.

All we know is

they pushed them onto trains.

Old women.

Tiny children.

And when they go off
on those trains,

they don't come back.

Where do they take them?

They're just gone.

So many people are gone.

People don't
just disappear.

Je sais pas.
I don't... I don't know.

They do.

Mm.

Yes. Yes!

Audrey Withers.

Thanks for the care package.

Lee!
How's liberation of gay Paris?

They say it's marvellous.
It must just be one big party.

We're all on tenterhooks
to hear what you have to say,

of course.

We're actually
celebrating here.

Maud's mother's made a cake.

Have you spoken to Roland?
How's he getting along?

Lee?

Are you there?

Have there been any reports
of missing people in the news?

Missing?

I don't understand.

Thousands and thousands
of missing people.

Erm, anything?

Sorry, it's not very clear.
Who's missing?

- It's not over at all.
- I know.

But by the time
the next issue goes to print

I'm sure there'll
be more good news.

Erm...

I've gotta go.

What...

- Do... Do be careful...
-

What?

Look what the cat dragged in.

Oh, God!

Are you all right?

Mm-hmm.

I think you should come home.

I can't just
come home, Roland.

I've missed you terribly.

This'll all be over soon.

I think you've got to let me
look after you now.

Look after me?

Oh, Jesus Christ.

- What's the matter?
- Is that why you're here?

To escort me home?

No. No.

Everything's changed.
It's all different now.

I'm the same.

You're the same.

Everything will be back
to normal,

it'll all be better.

Normal?

You only want me home so you can feel better
about spending the war painting some fucking
sheds.

There's no need to be cruel.

- What are you talking about?
- Please keep your voice down.

People are missing.
Our friends.

I can't just come home,
sit still, and do nothing.

Lee.

- I don't have a choice.
- That's not true.

Have you heard a goddamn word
I just said?

Yes, I have.

I'm just worried about you.

Well, don't.

And I love you.

Come home.

Please.

I love you, too.

Roland thinks I should...

"Roland thinks"
is not really a sentence

I'd like to hear
finished right now.

I'm heading to the front.

Ready to go?

That's not what I thought
you were gonna say.

Why didn't I
just go home?

I guess I could have.

But I've always been the last
to leave the party.

You want some?

Everybody's taking them.

Takes the edge off.

I'm all right, thanks.

Suit yourself.

Oh, God.

My entire body hurts.

Ugh!

We drove for months.

Didn't wash for weeks.

Five hundred miles
into the worst of it all.

- Colonel.
- Miller.

Suicide pacts.

We're finding them everywhere.

Whole families
swallowing cyanide.

We the first ones here?

Yes, you are.

Thanks.

There's so much life
in a person's eyes.

Right up until the moment
that there isn't.

It was no longer something
I'd heard about or imagined.

It was real.

Okay,
that's far enough.

Once you've seen it...

...you can never unsee it.

No sign of life, sir.

No sign of life.

No sign of life, sir.

Oh, my God.

-Davy.
- Yeah?

Davy, give me a leg up.

All right.

Okay.

It's all right.

It's all right.

See?

I'm not gonna hurt you.

I'm not gonna hurt you.

I'm not gonna
hurt you.

Jesus Christ.

What?

Davy.

And go.

All right, let's go.

Got it?

Yeah.

- Okay, come on.
-Yeah.

Davy, slow down. Slow down.

Is this it?

Yeah, left. Left.

Prinzregentenplatz, yeah.

-Hiya, press.
- This place is off limits.

Officers only.

- Cigarette?
- Thank you.

- It's kinda chilly out, huh?
-Sure is.

I'm Lee Miller.

This is my friend
David Scherman.

We'd love to step inside

for a few moments if...

that would be all right.

Thank you.

- Good evening.
-Ma'am.

You guys
got any requests?

Welcome to
Hitler's humble abode.

Thanks.

-Cigarette?
- Oh. Thank you.

- Thank you.
-Pleasure.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Davy.

Fuck.

After you.

Hey, Davy, it's hot.

Davy.

Come here.

- What?
- Come on, quick. I need you.

For what?

- Is it good?
- Locked.

All right.

All right.

Here?

Yeah.

- Ready?
- Yeah. You?

- Oh. Hot!
- Wipe off the frame.

Yeah.
Fucking thing.

Wait.

Jesus Christ!

Is that in?

- Just check.
- All right, it's in. Come on.

Make sure
you can't see my tits,

we'll never get it
past the censor.

Go.

Davy?

I... I don't know...

All those people.

All those people.

They were all my people.

Hitler and Eva Braun
were dead

by the time we were
in his apartment.

They'd committed suicide
in Berlin.

But we didn't know that.

Did that change how you felt?

Washing
in Der Fuhrer's bathtub?

What on earth
made you do that?

You think it was wrong?

I think it sounds like you.

- What does that mean?
- Being impulsive.

Not thinking
about the consequences

or appearances.

Why the hell should I
care about appearances?

Why don't you answer
some goddamn questions, hmm?

Fine.

Tell me about your mother.

What do you want me to say?

Up to you.

I spent my entire life

thinking that
I was the problem.

My mere existence
was the problem.

Took me a long time to realise
it wasn't me. It was her.

I felt like she blamed me

for everything
that went wrong in her life.

And...

And that made me feel like
I ruined everything for her.

That's really what you think?

Do you have
another explanation?

That's disappointing.

Stop.

Jesus Christ.

I think it's here.

Where are they?

- Where are my pictures?
-Are they not there?

- Let me look.
- No, they're not fucking here!

Lee?
Hello, can I help you?

Are... Are you looking
for something in particular?

Er...

Can I... Can I help?

Where are they? Huh?

Oh, goodness!

Stop! Stop!
Please, you mustn't.

These are mine.

I took them. I decide
what happens to them.

Lee!

Stop! Stop!
Stop, stop, stop!

Stop, they're
an historical record.

Well, who cares?
Nobody saw them!

You didn't print them.

I fought for them, Lee.
I fought for them!

- Fuck!
- These must be preserved.

For what? To just sit
in a filing cabinet?

The Ministry thought
they may disturb people.

Fuck! This happened!

- This really happened.
- Lee. Lee!

- This happened.
- Lee, Lee.

These images
will disturb people

more than they've already
been disturbed.

People need to move on.

Move on? Move on?

All right. This little girl,
in a death camp,

raped and beaten!

How does she move on?
How does she move on?

Ever. Ever.

Ever.

I just wanna...

I've sent them
to New York.

And I'm hoping
that American Vogue

will publish them.

I'm really trying, Lee.
I'm really trying.

Not hard enough.

You're not trying hard enough.

I know you think
I've let you down.

And I wish

that you'd let me explain

before you started
destroying them.

I'm sorry.

My mother was unwell

when I was seven years old.

So I was sent to stay with

family friends
until she got better.

They were nice people.

They were good to me.

But there was another man
who came to visit.

He had dark hair.

He took care of me
at the house when the...

The family
went into town one day.

He took me into the bedroom

and told me,

"Lie down."

And he...

He...

My mother said
I should never tell.

She was...

She was so ashamed.

So I've never told.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

It's unthinkable.

But it happens all the time.

And they just
get away with it.

This is a...

lock of hair

from your first haircut.

This is the first book
I ever read to you.

This is the first picture
you ever drew.

This is the first picture

I ever took of you
and your father.

I know I made mistakes.

And I know I may not have been
a good mother, Tony.

But I really tried.

Why didn't you tell me
about any of this?

I wish I'd known.