Somewhere, a while ago already
Sir?
Excuse me, sir? Your seat belt, please.
Oh, sorry.
God, I'm so sorry.
There I was, after 10 years- well, 12, to be precise...
So, after twelve years of absence
and in spite of my fear, I was going to visit them.
In life there are a number of motivations
that are no one's business, that force you to leave,
without looking back.
And there are just as many motivations
that force you to return.
So after all those years,
I decided to retrace my steps.
Take the journey...
to announce my death.
Announce it in person,
and try to give the others, and myself, one last time,
the illusion that I am,
until its very end,
the master of my life.
Let's see how that goes.
IT'S ONLY THE END OF THE WORLD
Mom! Tony! He's here!
- That twat took a cab! - Shit, I'm not ready.
You could've done that before!
Before! That's rich!
I was mixing baba ganoush while you primped.
You've been spiffing up for hours!
Suzanne, stop! A mother can smarten up for her son.
Louis loves fashion and color. All gay men do!
- That explains the tranny look! - Tranny? Thanks.
I don't want to fight, he's almost here!
You always want the last word! Think I'll give it to you?
I don't care.
Exactly! "I don't care, I don't care."
That's Missy's motto!
The cab must've cost you an arm.
I said I'd pick you up.
Louis! Love the hair! I can't see, but looks nice.
The cab must've cost you a pretty penny!
I just said that!
Louis, you don't know Catherine.
No.
Catherine, Louis. Louis, Catherine.
- Hi, Catherine. - Hi.
You must be crazy hot. Gimme that.
Let him come inside!
She's happy.
- She's wagging like a poodle. - Antoine!
I'm coming, Louis! Stupid nail polish.
Hair dryer won't dry!
I'm delighted, Catherine.
Of course... I mean, me course...
Uh, me too.
I'm delighted too. Oh God!
You shake hands? Like you're presidents?
Or strangers?
They are strangers!
She didn't know.
Give her a kiss, Louis.
Suzanne's right, kisses.
Charmed.
Charmed? Why the heck "charmed"?
They've never met!
They've never met, Mom!
Stop screaming, crazy!
Never?
Why no, he wasn't there.
You're batshit crazy!
I forgot, that's all. I didn't realize...
Well, darn it! We sure do live in strange times.
Sweetie!
No.
Louis.
You hate "sweetie."
- You knew they'd never met. - He wasn't at the wedding.
He couldn't make it. Remember, Martine?
I know, darling, but it slipped my mind.
Since then there's been no occasion...
Catherine, she just wants attention.
Shut it, will you.
A bummer about the cab.
I'd have picked you up. I got a car now.
I said he'd do that, Mom.
- How was the journey? - I told you last night.
I don't remember.
- But I told you. - Suzanne, who gives a shit?
Antoine!
So you travelled safe?
Yes. But I wouldn't call it travelling.
Well, then...
Let's.
See, Catherine, like I said. That's Louis.
Kisses only Mom, not even his brother...
Drop it, will you?
Am I talking to you? Fuck off!
Antoine!
They're with their other grandmother. My mom.
Of course.
We had no way of knowing. It was so...
She was expecting them. She'd have made a scene...
But they'd have loved to see you.
And me too. I mean...
Antoine and I would've liked you to meet them.
That's our oldest, she's 8.
Everyone says she looks just like Antoine.
His spitting image.
But we say that of all children, right? True or not.
- We do. - Don't we?
Alrighty! Appetizers in the living room, I guess?
Cold cuts from Célestin's and chorizo for Louis...
- Still a fan? - Yes.
She's got her dad's temper!
A stubborn little devil! An Antoinette.
Lucky us.
Louis, you had send me a note...
Sent! Sorry, sent me a note, and flowers.
God were they pretty!
I was really, really happy! I sure liked them.
And I, well...
Antoine and I had sent you a photo of her, and...
It was ridiculous. Well... She fit in Antoine's hand.
She was so tiny. A teeny-tiny baby.
Remember, Antoine?
No. I love forgetting the most important things in my life.
Yeah.
Actually, on this photo,
the resemblance to Antoine...
Zero.
Zero, really. Big, big fat zero.
But we don't look like anyone at that age.
Anyway, she's grown up.
Don't you think you're boring him with that?
You think so?
Not at all!
Why?
Catherine, no.
No but...
That's my thing. I bore everybody with my kids.
You think kids interest people. But guess what? Nope.
No, Catherine.
I don't know why he said that. Why'd you say that?
It's mean. Well, unpleasant.
Yeah, Antoine. Be fucking decent.
Like that dress? "Nightmare in Tokyo"?
Beats that jacket and the "clueless dick" kit.
What about that paint on your face?
- Fuck you! - Enough, kids!
He started it.
Louis?
I'm not bored, Catherine.
I love hearing about your kids.
I'm glad.
And, um...
Don't you have a boy who has my name?
Yes.
Yes. Sorry, yes.
I'm happy. I'm touched.
I mean, it touched me.
Six years old now...
Six. They're two years apart, and...
I don't know
if I should keep going or...
Hey whoa, whoa! Don't blame me.
If you want to talk, talk.
Don't make me sound like a bully muzzling you.
You're nuts, Antoine.
You're nuts.
Tell him, please. He's all ears.
Go ahead.
He loves it. Our children, the children of the world...
He's so fond of this topic! The evolution of our offspring.
His favorite conversation. So tell him!
Chill the fuck out, Tony.
Oh God, okay, sorry. I shouldn't have.
I didn't mean to...
I'm sorry, darling. Go on.
I'm embarrassed. Sorry, Catherine.
No offense, Antoine... You're making me uncomfortable.
I'm so sorry, really!
Big Bad Antoine spoiled the lovely day!
Shut up and let her talk!
Go on, Catherine. Ignore him.
Yeah, ignore me!
There's my dip and then jalapegno... Peno?
Peño.
Anyhow, spicy. And fry sauce of course.
Catherine, do tell.
No but...
That's it, he just...
He has your name, sir. I mean, Louis.
And, um...
What I think is interesting is that, first and foremost,
he has, if we go back,
your father's name, and so, needless to say...
Here we go, French kings...
Look, Antoine, I'll just shut up, alright?
And you tell the story.
Or no one does, and...
We just sit here choking on fry sauce!
Choking on my dip, little did I know.
- Martine, I meant... - Express yourself, doll.
I was kidding, sweetheart.
Tell Louis the story. Tell him.
He's got your father's name.
And I... Well, we thought it'd be great.
- In my family... - Oh, it's you, hon!
Well, there's a tradition
by which the parents' first name,
or the first name of the baby's grandfather...
Basically, the first son's name
and the grandfather's name are...
identical.
I told Lori you're here. She said, "Must be a cold day in hell!"
Dumb as ever, that one.
So, Antoine's the eldest,
but Antoine, to me, was a no.
And Louis was a yes.
Antoine didn't want an Antoine, said it'd be bad luck.
Since you people don't have kids,
we weren't depriving you of anything.
But...
I mean, we say that, but of course you can...
have children. Everything's possible nowadays.
You'll have some, I'm sure. You're still young and...
Would you have named him Louis?
You still can. Right, Antoine?
Mm-hmm.
Okay, Catherine, I need a hand.
- Are you hungry? - Getting there.
Me too. Louis, wanna see my room?
Sure.
- What do I do? Jerk off? - Come hold my pots!
Antoine?
- Antoine, d'you hear? - Yeah!
Jesus Christ!
I hardly remember you.
I was young and...
I have zero memories.
Only what people told me.
Anyway, I'm just...
Just rambling.
It sucks that you left.
Sucks, uh...
for me, for her,
Antoine.
For you too, right?
You don't have to answer.
But maybe you regret it too?
Maybe you needed us?
I... I'm sorry.
That's why I'm here.
Partly.
It's funny, 'cause before I got your postcard or letter,
I'd say to myself that... we were due, y'know.
That the time was right.
- Yeah. - And...
whenever...
I'm the one who gets the mail.
And whenever I see a postcard in the pile,
I try to put it picture side up.
That way, I have something to turn over. To discover.
Something I'm hoping for.
It's funny 'cause... we're all following you,
reading articles, doing all that stuff and...
You know, you can't not know that...
we feel, I mean...
We all feel a sort of...
admiration.
For you.
Sounds silly, but...
It's a gift.
You have a gift.
You're laughing?
Yeah, I...
Why? It's a gift, that's it.
It's not funny.
I'm complimenting you.
You got a gift.
You're lucky.
Yeah 'cause... You don't really use it with us.
It's for others.
Or maybe for no one.
I don't know you.
I'm just saying that. I'm not judging.
Those are facts. I'm thinking out loud.
Fucking kills me. I'm so itchy.
What?
I dunno, the makeup.
I never use it, so it itches.
I just wanted... I dunno. Know what I mean?
And Mom's makeup is shit.
It's red and gross, so I bought this stuff.
Don't you wanna sit down?
It's cozy.
I'm good.
Those are all mine.
We just call them your "elliptic bits."
Maybe "elliptic" is wrong.
No.
I mean...
I get it.
We each have our collection.
Antoine.
Mom, obviously.
And she's right.
You've never forgotten the... our birthdays.
The important days of our lives.
Always a postcard, always something.
Anyway, I dunno.
I've stopped complaining 'cause...
She lectures us when we dare say you're... not around.
"He does what he has to do. He always has."
She says that?
Of course. I didn't make it up.
But don't worry, I'm an adult, I...
No problem.
No problemo.
No!
No problemo.
Dunno why I said that.
I hate that.
It's not me.
I hate that expression, it's ridiculous.
So what is "you"?
It's weird how you always send postcards,
as if you're on vacation,
and mailmen can see what you write.
I dunno.
Do you let everyone see the important things you write?
Well, what you write isn't...
Okay, this is just...
Pathetic. I'm pathetic.
Everyone says so.
Sorry.
I didn't mean to...
I'm sorry, Suzanne.
No, it's me.
I'm sorry.
Friggin' heat wave is driving us crazy.
And here it's worse.
Everything's worse here.
I wanted to leave but, I dunno...
I'm good here.
Got the basement,
my room, the storage.
That's the room behind you.
Shit from the old house. Yours, mostly.
Mom's gonna ask if you want any of it.
Bet you don't.
Louis?
Are you listening?
Yeah, stuff you bought yourself.
Did you buy the car?
Antoine's old one.
Mom bought it.
Mom doesn't drive.
Mm-hmm, so guess who's her slave driver?
But I can drive downtown, see the girls.
And I drive Mom for errands.
We don't depend on anyone.
We bother no one.
And I like those little moments with Mom.
She's fun.
She's nuts, though.
Anyway...
No.
I knew you'd say no. Smoking isn't very you.
Are you completely high?
No.
I hardly feel it anymore.
In fact, it might do me good.
- I don't usually smoke, but... - So?
Why you here?
Got someone to introduce?
Are you pregnant?
For you. For, uh...
I don't know.
I'd love to see our old house.
Why?
Why do you wanna go back to that ugly place?
I don't know. Out of nostalgia.
Is it for a play?
No.
Suzanne! Louis! Are you coming?
Stop screaming!
Well, get the hell up!
Check out the storage room if you want.
And your old stuff.
Out of nostalgia.
Reminds me of our Sundays!
- Ugh! Please! - What?
She knows about Sundays. Be honest, say it!
Let her talk, Antoine.
He's embarrassed. His Majesty longed for adventure!
That's why he went to China after college.
- You went to China? - So?
So, I was working, my husband was working...
Bottom line, we both worked.
There you are, sweetie!
It's story time. Lucky you!
- Our Sundays? - Ha! See?
Even Louis, Mom!
Let us be, Antoine.
Louis, red?
Louis's always white, dear.
- White, please. - Only our family did that!
It was a family thing. Our thing! Mine, too.
It was a tradition.
Do you need a hand?
Nah, calms me, just getting ahead.
I wanna tell my story!
Go on, let's get it over with.
Sunday was our day off.
So we went out for a ride. Systematically.
Systematically!
It was like... a ritual.
What are you doing?
Nothing. I'm listening.
Stay, Antoine.
Forget him. Listen to me. He loves to upset me.
So, we'd go on an outing. And we'd take the car.
Their dad always owned a car.
Here, back then, owning a car...
But he worked.
It was his car.
It was old, ugly and noisy, but it was his.
Sunday mornings, he washed it.
Washed the hell out of it.
And after lunch... Hop! Off we went.
Every Sunday! A tradition.
No vacations, but every Sunday,
come shine or rain...
No! "Come rain or shine, hell or high water."
Rain or shine, hell or high water. You're right!
He had expressions like that for every situation in life.
- He did? - Yes.
"He did?" You shitting me? You know all this!
Why tell stories we already know?
We do that in life, stop being so stiff!
We recall and relive the things we love.
I know she knows, but I enjoy telling her again.
That's why we remember! For me!
Happy?
If you hate it so much, cover your ears,
beat it and stop cheesing us off!
Cheese off?
Damn right! Means piss off! Your brother's specialty.
So, the first Sunday in May, or after March 8th...
My birthday, of course.
Or if the 8th was a Sunday we hit the jackpot!
That was the real deal. We'd drive an hour or two.
Fields, forests, castles, vineyards, sometimes.
We'd stroll, eat on the grass, take a nap...
On the plaid blanket.
Tuna salad, rice, mayo, deviled eggs.
Antoine still loves that salad, right?
Always says "Make your salad!"
He's sulking.
And then, uh...
Night came, and we'd be weary from the drive,
and we'd walk in and say, "Home, sweet home!"
Proof that all those fancy trips to the beach,
airports, planes, sassy attendants...
Anyway...
Then, well, the boys got older and...
Well, Suzanne arrived!
The boys had their bikes, went their separate ways.
And we stopped the Sunday outings, 'cause,
with only Suzanne, it wasn't worth it.
Our fault, again.
Or mine, Antoine.
Heavens!
Suzanne, I don't believe it!
Yeah, drop it, Mom!
But...
I'm gonna kill myself!
That's our day? Dumb memories and shit music?
- Fucking hell! - It's our song, Suzanne.
- Drop it, Mom! Jeez! - Our aerobics song!
- We're taking off. - Suzanne, come!
You outta your mind?
You do aerobics?
Piss your pants!
I adore this song. Suzanne, come!
I'm obsessed, it's a real find!
Everybody found it, Mom!
- You just live in a parallel world. - I googled it.
Translation said it's about Picasso being in love,
or Picasso... Anyway, it wasn't clear.
Come on, now!
No!
Make it a perfect day, impress your brother!
Don't embarrass her!
Suzanne, please!
Suzanne, come on!
Come show them!
All your moves are wrong, it's a disaster.
Well then come.
Show your poor old mom how to do it.
Alright, one, two...
God, Mom, you're terrible!
Looks like you're having a stroke.
Mom, focus instead of hitting on the teacher!
In his dreams, maybe!
Yes?
Where are you, why does it say unknown?
Oh, right.
Not yet, no.
I've been here for an hour, I can't just...
shove it in their face.
It was tough with my sister.
I don't know her.
She's so pretty.
And so much older. It's nuts. The others too.
And I am too, of course. I don't see myself.
I don't know, after lunch maybe.
Over coffee and dessert. I don't know.
When the moment is right.
I don't think I'll stay after telling them.
I don't know how they'll react.
Maybe they won't even cry.
Listen, this isn't the time.
I'll call you later.
Yeah.
I'm scared.
I'm scared of them.
Okay. Alright.
Me too. Ciao.
Sorry.
No, it's... Excuse me, sorry.
Are you alright?
- Uh... me? - Yes, you.
Yes. Why?
I don't know.
You haven't said much since earlier.
No, that's just...
That's me.
I'm fine.
What do you want me to say?
Nothing.
I'm sorry about earlier, in there.
Antoine saying your kids don't interest me.
No idea why he said that.
He loves to think I'm not interested.
I assume he must've...
tried to turn you against me.
Anyway, I'm sorry about that.
I'd already forgotten about it.
I...
I'm used to it.
But why would you say...
that he tried to turn me against you?
Just a thought.
I know Antoine.
You do?
Sorry, I'm...
It's weird you'd say that, 'cause...
he...
doesn't talk about you...
often...
Almost never, actually.
And when he does...
No.
I didn't mean to judge. You're right.
He thinks that...
you don't care about his life.
Or him, me, the kids, his job and all.
D'you know what he does? For a living?
Do you know his...
I'm not criticizing...
Really, don't take it as...
- I'm not criticizing. - No.
But...
do you know his job?
He makes tools.
In a small shop, not from here.
And, even myself, I don't...
know, exactly.
But anyway, he...
thinks his life doesn't interest you.
So, he... Well, that is...
He believes, I think,
that what he does, uh...
is... unlikely to interest you.
And I think he probably isn't... entirely mistaken.
Unless I'm wrong. I might be wrong.
Maybe you are.
But today I was hoping...
No, no, no.
Wait...
Don't tell me.
Alright? Please.
I'd prefer you to tell him.
Alright.
If you tell me,
it won't change anything. It isn't my role. Alright?
I wasn't actually saying anything, Catherine.
- We're talking. - Yes, but...
I'm not good at talking. And they...
They're...
waiting for this.
- See you in a bit? - Yes.
- You're coming? - Yeah.
Louis.
C'mere!
Shut the door. Antoine will see me.
He'll rag on me, again. I'm at 3 per day, max, so...
I quit quitting. I felt too dumb.
Hanging in there?
Yeah, I'm fine.
Three words.
Same old, right.
Always these...
two or three-word answers.
Like on your postcards.
Or that little smile.
Stop it.
Did they talk to you?
Suzanne just did, right?
They have things to say, of course.
They'll make the most of it.
They don't know when they'll have another chance.
Suzanne...
She's clueless, poor girl.
She doesn't know you. Doesn't know much.
She's pictured you from what she's heard.
And Antoine...
You know him. "My way, or no way."
Problem is...
Well...
We're afraid of time.
The time you give us.
And I don't...
pretend to think you'll stay long...
And that's fine.
But now you're here.
So...
Forgive them.
Forgive, because... they'll be...
What's the word?
Abrupt?
Or clumsy.
It doesn't matter.
God, I can see them!
Asking things, and you... Three words, a little smile...
You being you.
Poor them.
What if I don't only have words to answer?
What if I have words to say?
Lucky us!
I'm kidding.
But it won't be enough.
For Suzanne, until next time.
I won't even ask when.
And Antoine, well...
He'll be more bitter about you,
even more lost.
Suzanne wants to leave. She told you.
Go and live her life some place. Far away, of course.
Antoine... he'd like more freedom.
I can feel it.
Not to owe anything.
To whom? Everyone, I guess.
Me, above all. And Suzanne, too.
They want to confide this in you, Louis!
They need your approval.
You never took responsibility, and I'm not asking you to.
I'm not the eldest, Martine.
I'm not the surrogate father...
Cut the crap, Louis!
Don't play dumb. Use your head a bit.
Age has nothing to do with it.
Doesn't make you the man of the house.
I was, as a child!
Status, salary, luck,
beauty, gifts, courage!
The things you're born with, or without!
Should I keep going?
Who's the writer, here?
I know you won't come back.
Encourage them.
No one ever did.
I did, but I don't count, my words don't matter.
Encourage them, Louis.
Give them your permission to do this, or that.
Tell Suzanne, even if it's just hot air, an empty promise,
"Suzanne, why don't you come visit me?"
Tell her she can.
That she has the right.
You're still in the homo ghetto?
Yes or no?
No. I've moved.
What?
I still write there, dummy!
Someone picks up the mail for me.
Don't worry. I like it that way.
You like your mother not knowing where you live?
Holy shit.
That's funny.
I mean...
You're funny.
You still don't get it.
Think we don't love you?
Or understand you?
You're right.
I don't understand you.
But I love you.
I love you.
No one will take that away from me.
Write that one down, for one of your plays.
Why are you here?
You can tell your mother.
You thought, "Heck! It's been 12 years!
Let's grab a bite on the patio!"
Well, you look great, I'm glad.
Damn it!
Where's that thingy?
How old are you now?
Me?
No, the watering can!
Saint-Anthony came around.
For the kisses, for Antoine, for the food,
and for me.
Here.
Tell me if I should get it. As a Christmas gift.
To me, from me.
I'm 34.
Oh, my...
It's been 34 years for me too, then.
Is that a long time?
I can't tell anymore.
Look, just do what you have to do, Louis.
Gosh, that's crazy.
I just...
I wish I could take a photo, you've got...
your father's eyes, right here, right now.
Well, anywho...
There's no need for tears or declarations today.
I was saying that...
for the future.
Gotta think about it!
But the day should end as it started,
without obligations, without intention.
And well, quite simply... Just... well.
Of course.
That idiot called her hens Denise.
She's mentally challenged.
I walk in the hen house,
hens running everywhere.
I go "Look at your cute hens!"
"What did you name 'em?" "I named 'em Denise!"
So I go "That's pretty. Which one is Denise?"
She goes "They're all named Denise!"
I called all of them Denise.
Will I go to hell if I love that story?
Why hell?
Well, she's got Down's syndrome.
Whatever syndrome, a hell of a big one.
Down, Up, Wide... She's got it.
Someone could've told her, "Don't call them all Denise."
I don't like it much.
I don't like it...
I find it mean, and unseemly.
It's funny, c'mon!
St. Catherine's among us.
- You alright? - Yeah.
Why?
I dunno. You wanna...
Do something else, go for a walk, or...
- play games. - You and your fucking games.
Get off my Friggin' back!
I don't know about games but,
actually, I would've loved...
- Well... - What? The old house?
- Yes. - What?
He wants to see the old house.
I don't mind. I can drive you.
Why d'you wanna go there? Are you daft?
He's not daft, let him be.
- You're daft! - You're stupid!
But Louis, really, why d'you want to go there?
Did you forget something in your room?
No.
I don't know, I just do.
I'm curious to...
see the surroundings,
how they've evolved...
How time has modified or...
wrecked them.
It's not even for sale. You can't visit it.
I drove by last week, and...
it's completely abandoned.
You wanna go back to that shithole,
to see how time has wrecked, modified it.
Is that the most la-Di-da shit plan you got?
Antoine.
I meant no offense but...
Of course not.
It took us 20 years to get outta there,
and you want to go see if the wind has wafted
the autumn leaves onto the rusted roof?
What the fuck? Who cares?
Leave him alone, he just wants to go for a ride.
I mean...
I'll come with you, Louis, if you want.
Doesn't matter.
- It was a bad idea. - No shit!
I'll beat off in Auschwitz, jizz out a poem!
Antoine! Bad taste!
Alrighty, Louis!
Give us some gossip!
Let's dish!
I don't know any.
Well, make it up!
You know, showbiz gossip!
Who screwed who, who was screwed.
Your fingers stink. You smoked?
Wine, Louis?
- No thanks. - You smoked.
I don't know any gossip. I don't go out.
Coffee, Mr. Louis? I was going to make a pot.
What century d'you Misses and Misters live in?
What's it to you, dumb-ass?
For fuck's sake, am I talking to you?
Stop fucking picking on me,
telling me to shut up.
Telling me I'm stupid.
Stay the fuck outta this.
Kids, no. Not this.
Do you hear that? What's that tone?
It's well deserved.
- You never talk to me like that. - I'm starting!
That's my tone when you fucking annoy me!
Never mind, I got it.
That's too cute! You're a cutie pie...
Aren't you?
Wanna look cool in front of your bro? 'Cause he's here?
This is for you, Louis.
Is it working? Are you impressed, Loulou?
Rou-Lou-cou-Lou-Lou!
Loulou! Yoohoo!
This is a load of bullshit. It's bullshit. Mom!
Suzanne, the neighbors!
You make no sense!
This isn't about Louis!
Why d'you always humiliate me? Humiliate everyone!
This day fucking sucks!
Suzanne, come back!
Gosh, and you just let her go!
She'll be back.
Lord. Such a shame.
Catherine, I'd fancy a cup of coffee.
"Catherine, I'd fancy a cup of coffee."
Antoine.
What? Antoine, Antoine! Yes, Antoine! What?
That's my goddamn name, yeah!
All day long! Fucking pain in the ass!
Fine.
I'll work on my timing!
I was about to say it's lovely being together.
Later, maybe.
Excuse me, Catherine.
No worries.
We're not complete boors. What's wrong with you?
Why are you being so hostile?
Louis?
- Sorry. - Sorry!
I'm... Martine's asking for you.
Dessert will be ready in 30 or 40. Would that be alright?
I'll be right up.
Alright.
Sorry.
How much time?
How much time what?
How much time...
Will you, um...
Antoine's alone upstairs and...
You could talk to him.
I'm coming.
So, um...
I need a smoke.
Gotta buy smokes.
Well, you can... Never mind.
Yeah, I know.
Don't rat out Mom, I hate her fancy cigs.
I never smoke but when I smoke...
I smoke.
- And you need to smoke, right now. - Mm-hmm.
You coming? If you want, in the car, we could...
What?
- Talk? - No. I mean... I guess, yeah.
Yeah.
- I need some fresh air. - Well, then.
Done.
I actually flew in early. Traveled overnight.
I wanted to see the sunrise at the airport,
eat at the small Café.
Thought I'd come for breakfast, but...
I waited for the proper moment.
You're telling me this... because?
What should I say? Anything specific?
No. I don't know, just wanted you to know.
It's not important.
I told you 'cause it's true. I wanted to tell you.
Listen...
Don't start, okay?
Don't start what?
This, Louis. This.
Don't smother me with airport stories...
Should've come earlier, later... I drown in that crap.
Not in the mood.
So you traveled last night? How was it?
Come on!
It went fine, I guess. It's a short trip.
You guys think I live on another planet.
Coming here's not the end of the world.
But if you don't want to talk, it's fine.
Please!
I'm listening, alright?
Go on, tell me.
I want you to. Come on!
I want to know. The airport, the Café.
The heat's driving us nuts, okay?
No, you're right. It's irrelevant.
I just thought that... I don't know.
You'd be happy... or glad. To know that, this morning
I was at the airport Café. Remember the Café?
Waiting.
I couldn't show up at dawn and scare them.
I can see Suzanne on the porch, with a shotgun.
She's such a pothead.
She'd grab it upside down, blow a hole in her head!
You done?
I was waiting, thus I said to myself...
Thus?
Thus!
- Thus... - I was waiting, and...
I thought I'd tell you about this.
About being there, doing nothing.
Thought you'd get it.
So I'm telling you. Only you, not them.
They'd be upset that we could've spent more time together.
Hanging out there felt good.
- You know how... - See, that's just... That's it!
This is exactly what I meant. This.
That crap I have to listen to. What's true, what's not...
I knew it, I'm not dumb.
I didn't forget that.
Your endless stories, and words, words, words,
to confuse us, and fuck us over!
You get away with it, and I'm lost!
- You're sick, Antoine. - I'm sick now? No, you're sick!
I know your little story! The airport, the Café...
And what else? All those details...
A dude cooking fries, your clothes soaking up the smell of grease...
And you were alone, all alone in the airport, weren't you?
You could hear a pin drop.
So, you're there. Reading your paper?
I bet you are!
Or some money magazine,
with the shiny paper and the big red letters...
And I don't know either why you came, Louis.
No one knows. No one understands.
And you hate that, 'cause if we knew...
Oh, it'd be easy!
You'd have taken off already, or wouldn't have come!
But you think that matters?
Think airports, cafés, magazines matter to me?
You're wrong, buddy! It doesn't matter at all!
It doesn't matter anymore!
That's not what you thought at the airport.
Or you weren't going to tell me.
You're saying that to fill the void between us.
Bam, I'm here! So you're making shit up.
You made all that up to talk to me?
So I'd feel special.
Special?
To know you could've spent more time with us?
You didn't think that. We're strangers.
Strangers share nothing.
We're strangers, Louis. Haven't we always been?
You thought "I'll take that angle,
so I can handle him."
You thought...
"I've studied, lived, written... I can handle him."
Funny. People say that of me...
He's hard to handle.
"Handle Antoine with kid gloves!"
Like an animal in a cage.
That you pet. And kill.
That's what you did at the airport, Louis.
You thought you had a technique to grab me.
But I'm not in the mood.
I'm not interested.
What are you doing here? I don't wanna know!
I don't care.
You're here, you're not. That's your problem.
You're home. You come, you go, you stay. Fine.
Not everything's so great in your small life.
- 'Cause it is small. - Antoine, slow down.
You were at the airport Café, thinking about sweet nothing!
The coffee's giving you the runs,
you're thinking about no one!
You're there, living your fucking life,
so get the fuck over it already!
- Antoine? - No.
I don't wanna be here. And listen to you. Or talk.
I'm scared. You happy?
You guys always have to tell me everything.
And I have to listen
I hate listening. I hate talking.
We think silent people are good listeners.
But I shut up so people leave me alone.
Do you get that?
Do you?
I do.
Amazing.
By the way...
Pierre died last week. Cancer.
Pierre?
Jolicoeur.
Pierre Jolicoeur, your Pierre.
I better help with dessert or they'll gimme hell.
Antoine, is that you?
Where is everyone?
- What? - Where are the others?
I dunno.
Here.
Hold this while I...
I think I heard someone come in.
Shouldn't I go get everyone? I think it was Antoine.
They'll come when they're ready.
Help me with this.
I don't get it.
What?
Think you're alone?
You're handsome when you smile.
You think we're alone? Think Mom gets any of this?
No one gets it. Never did, never will.
That's the beauty of it, right?
I think Antoine and Louis had a fight.
Get outta here.
Antoine!
Yeah, coming!
There was no drama...
I was young, I can't remember, but there was no drama...
tragic stuff, or betrayals,
or murders.
Shit like that... So he'd avoid us.
He doesn't care.
He doesn't feel the need for "us".
He wants to be far.
He's almost farther sitting on our couch.
He's the sad one.
He missed all those years, never saw you grow.
And life went on,
as it does today, invariably.
Just like in books.
You're unhappy, but only 'cause it's convenient.
- So choose to be happy. - Easy to say.
Anyway, it's almost over.
Really? Why?
So...
Yep!
Appetizers, mains, finger food... Nope.
But desserts? I'm just unbeatable.
I...
I've got something to tell you.
Things, actually.
I'll come back.
And more often.
And write.
More often.
Not just two or three words.
Because...
I regret it all.
The time we've wasted. The time I've wasted.
Suzanne, if you want to visit, you're welcome.
For a weekend, or longer, as you wish. We'll set it...
And Antoine...
If we had dinner,
we could continue the conversation we began,
calmly.
When I'm back. Or you come.
I can't. Too much work.
A weekend?
Just a weekend.
Weekends are just as...
Everyone can survive a weekend, Antoine.
You can. You have the right to.
- You love the city. - I love the city, now?
You always did.
Truth is, I have to go.
- What are you doing? - What's wrong?
When all is well, Antoine messes things up!
Or are you tidying up?
Don't hold your breath.
What's wrong with you two?
Are you drunk? Or high? You guys got high?
He's used to it.
I'll drive you. No more cabs.
- What? - Here.
Already, now?
Didn't he say that?
No.
Louis, you're staying tonight?
My bad! In the car, didn't you say
you had a meeting tonight?
Tonight, right?
Are you insane, Antoine?
I'm not insane, I listen.
He has to go, so I kindly offer my help.
Airport's 40 minutes from your mom's, right?
That's right, honey.
I'll grab the kids on my way.
Excuse me, how long to the airport? 40 minutes?
When d'you last go?
You've never been!
I go all the time, idiot, Julien lives there!
So? What's the difference?
He's not taking another cab!
That isn't the point, Antoine!
It is not the point!
Louis...
You're going?
I can drive you, tonight, or tomorrow.
You sleep over,
we have breakfast.
What's that meeting?
Yes, what's that meeting?
Is it that important?
It can't wait?
On a Sunday, I mean...
You said it was crucial.
Shut up!
What's the problem, here?
We were doing fine!
In a moment, pow!
Why, Louis?
Why?
Because.
I have a meeting.
Thank you. Let's go.
What the fuck, Antoine! Don't touch him!
What's wrong?
- Antoine, I'm fine! - Just helping...
What the hell's going on! This is pure madness!
No! He'll miss his plane.
- We can at least kiss goodbye. - Now! Kiss kiss, chop chop!
Only two seconds ago we were...
eating nicely,
speaking happily, sharing a moment
and you just act up,
breaking, spoiling every bit of it!
I'm warning you,
I won't forget this.
Your brother was trying... I don't get it.
- It's okay, Mom. - Kissy, Kissy, come on!
- Antoine... - Shut up!
Jesus! I'll drive him! Louis, let me take you!
Suzanne, stop!
I'm driving him!
- We can't drive like a... - Like what? Say it!
I'm driving him! The end! I'll be back in an hour.
- You're so despicable! - Me?
You don't hear yourself! See yourself!
How you rush him! How you talk to me!
And your wife!
You...
you little piece of shit.
- Come on, defend me! - Of course she will!
Suzanne?
I don't get it.
So I'll come visit?
Let's go, Louis.
Louis!
See you soon.
Let him go, you fucking psycho!
What did I do?
What you do is,
you ruin our fucking lives and our day with Louis
with your brutality!
Brutality? My... Me?
Yes, you!
- Antoine. - Stop, I'm fine!
Calm down. It's okay, just...
Calm us... Calm yourself.
Don't be so brutal.
Who's brutal? I'm trying to help!
You weren't brutal, it's a misunder...
- You! Goodness incarnate... - Brutal and stupid!
You understand shit! You know shit!
So shut your mouth, bitch!
Don't ever talk to your sister like that!
Fine! Y'know what? You figure it out.
I screwed up, as usual.
So go for it, Louis. Go for it!
Go!
He said "I must go." Those very words!
Is it my fucking fault again?
Is it?
You guys think I'm an idiot! And I've had it!
There was nothing bad in what I did!
Let's go.
It's not fair! You treat me like I'm a circus freak!
It's not fair.
You've no right! You can't always win! You can't do that to me!
Don't cry, Antoine...
I'll kill you!
Antoine, no!
Don't touch him, Louis.
Come. Don't.
Stop it. Get away from him.
Antoine, it's over.
Come.
It's over.
We'll be better prepared next time.
In loving memory of François Barbeau