Malefique (2002) Movie Script
[Recites an incantation]
So, don't you have something to tell me?
How was school today?
He never goes to school on Saturday mornings.
- Daddy?
Will you come to my birthday?
- Of course.
I'm going to escape.
Really?
I promise.
- For once, you'll have a good
reason not to keep your promise.
Claire, you'll post bail
and I'll be out, ok?
Can I have a real smile?
It's good to see you both.
- Hey, daddy!
He will help you to escape.
I'll bring it back to
you on your birthday.
Don't miss it, ok?
- Shut up Pquerette, I'm taking aim.
- Don't miss it !
- Pquerette, have I ever missed it?
- No.
No. So look me in the eyes.
It will be alright.
Look at me. Here...
you're looking at me ?
Infirmary!
Infirmary!
Look at me!
What did you do now?
Goodbye, Marcus!
Have a nice holiday, Pquerette!
Pquerette is escaping piece by piece.
He'll be out before we are.
Can you say 'dear Mister' for a lawyer?
- 'Sir' would be better.
- Well, shit. Fuck.
Oh, you never killed.
You're no dealer.
Your hands are neat... soft...
Gigolo?
Hum, no, too proud.
- I am running a company.
- Shit, I was going to find out!
"Running a company"...
Well you just lost a rank.
You were the boss.
Now you're the secretary.
Just what I am looking for!
- Marcus.
Please.
Did I miss the walk?
- He's at the library.
- He does look like someone
who spends his time with books.
- He works there.
He does not read books.
He puts them in order.
Anyway, he doesn't care. He's read them all.
How do I finish it?
'This confession was made
without any pressure nor constraints.'
You put the date and you sign.
- Marcus!
- So, how did it go?
- Great!
Buddy, buddy, buddy!
Well, time to make introductions.
So...
Here is Carrre,
head of a company.
Pquerette,
He likes going on trips to the infirmary.
For fresh air... to see the head doctor...
Two fingers of vacation.
Come on, go!
Pquerette, to the table.
Pquerette, please!
Here.
Hope you can afford it.
- One pays with cigarettes here?
I'll pay with cigars.
- Have any preferences?
- Only the best will do.
- Like always.
- What's the point of working, otherwise?
- Especially working honestly.
- Exactly, Marcus, exactly.
You know what's the real trick?
Making people believe that by working honnestly for 40 years, they're successful.
That's what journals say, what politicians say.
That's what my father used to say.
And then at the end,
what did he have? A house?
A car, a barbecue set.
A life.
He died one year after retirement.
Me, I chose shortcuts.
I may die at 60, but I'd had everything for 25 years.
The best cars, the best apartments, the best boats.
- And the most beautiful women?
- No, 'the' most beautiful woman.
- Happiness, then.
- Who talked about happiness?
I talked about comfort.
So, can I?
- Well, let's drink to your main residence!
- Secondary!
Secondary residence.
And temporary.
- What is happiness?
Comfort...
Jean...
Jean, my love...
Jean, please, listen to me...
Please... listen to me!
Do it again.
Do it again... kill me.
What the...! Shit!
What's that?
What is that?
When will you be clean?
How many times have I told you
to take a piss before going to bed?
It's not fucking complicated!
Stop eating random things!
Is that a hideout of yours, Carrre?
- No.
I felt something.
Looks like a diary.
It's the diary of a con.
Look at this.
October 7th, 1920.
Wow.
- What's that?
- That depends, look.
Here, that's Latin.
And there, that's Greek.
But that, I don't know.
- Another teacher
who blew a fuse.
Surely one of your collegues, Lasalle.
- You were a teacher?
A writer?
- Teacher, writer, philosopher, no one knows.
What's sure is that
he's known for what he did with his hands.
That's nice, my Paquerette.
It's beginning to turn me on.
- This is unbelievable.
'Danvers' was his name.
Charles Danvers.
Kind of a serial killer.
- So what? We also got some here.
- Yeah, but do you know why he was killing?
Because he was obsessed with youth.
He couldn't stand getting old.
So he started to steal placentas
from maternity hospitals
to make masks, creams.
I think he even injected them.
He was so obsessed
that he started to kill pregnant women to have fresher placentas.
- Not bad.
But while you were reading,
I held on for 10 minutes
on the tips of my fingers.
Suspended. With 50kg on my back.
Now the prison wall doesn't seem so high!
You're hoping to climb the wall with your bare hands?
- So what? Some did.
And why 50kg on your back?
Just guess
how much does my little Pquerette weigh?
How much?!
I'll take you with me, my little Pquerette.
I'll take you with me!
- And your written confessions?
Weren't you expecting a reduction of sentence?
- A reduction of sentence?
Not with what I confessed!
No, my confessions...
were only to give the names
of old friends who'd like to find me.
Here, I'm safe 'cause they're outside.
When I escape, because of
my confessions, they'll be inside.
If you want to do like me,
you'd better start training quickly!
- No need, no need.
In 15 days at most, my wife will pay the bail.
I'll be out before you are.
And what'll you do once outside?
- I don't know.
Maybe...
I will...
get rid of the only thing I don't wanna train.
- 50 kg...
...you must not eat trash...
...50 kg.
Why did you do this? Why?
You don't touch that.
It doesn't belong to you.
- But I didn't...I didn't.
- What? You didn't do that?
You didn't?
- Calm down. He says he didn't do it.
Of course.
So, who's sick enough to do that?
Listen...
I don't want you to touch
what's mine. Ok?
- Mr. Carrre.
If Pquerette had touched your toy,
there would be nothing left.
Simply because he would
have eaten it all. He eats everything.
You know, he ate my watch.
He eats everything, just like pigs.
Actually, he was raised among them.
In the barn of the family farm.
When he managed to get out,
he saw his little sister for the first time.
He was so glad that he ate her.
A six-month old baby.
Pquerette did not do this.
So what happened to your guy?
He cooked a baby?
Go on!
- It's weird. He's been in jail for a month now.
It looks like he's getting crazy.
Every day, he sees a new wrinkle on his face.
He's obsessed with escaping to get new placentas.
And here, he spends his time
engraving inscriptions on the wall.
- Well, yeah.
Four vertical lines across the wall, that's how you counts days!
- No, no, he had formulas in his head.
He was trying to remember them.
There are also drawings he copied.
He seems to be practicing black magic.
- Magic?
Magic!
Do some magic!
Do some magic, like on TV!
- That's nonsense.
- No.
Go on, do some magic!
- Pquerette! Come finish eating please.
Come on, come on, come on...
- Is there something left to drink?
- Did you ever taste the minesta cocktail?
You take some minesta,
mash it, turn it into powder,
mix it with some beer, toss, drink.
You'll see, you'll take off!
I can even get you straws if you want.
It doubles, triples the effect.
You don't have a good Bordeaux?
- He's insane.
Come on, read some magic!
Read me some magic!
- When you have something in mind...
You're glad?!
Shit.
What the fuck was that?
- I don't know.
Did he touch the alcohol?
- Impossible, I hide it so he won't drink it.
Did you draw that? With this?
- Yes.
It's magic.
It's magic.
Once more!
One more trick!
- Why don't you please him?
"I placed the four points which defined the direction of the winds,
and drew the lines which link them.
I pronounced the formula,
and a blow came out from the stones."
Go on.
- Sorry, I don't read.
Are you ok?
Calm down!
Shut up!
I didn't finish my coffee.
- Did you see that?
What do you think about it?
- Nothing.
- Wait, did you ever see a book like that?
I've never believed in that stuff, but now...
- So what? What else do you want?
- I don't know, aren't you
curious about what can be done with it?
I mean maybe it could be useful to us.
- Useful for what?
Burning? Blowing our heads?
I've seen enough. I don't wanna see more. Got it?
- It's because we weren't prepared. If we understand how it works...
And maybe this book is worth a fortune.
We have to try.
- You do what you want, but I warn you,
you don't open that book when
Pquerette and I are in the cell. Got it?
Danvers...
"I pronounced the formula
I found tonight three times.
The stones moved apart."
"The phenomena are transient.
Their logic is still escaping me, but I'm close to the aim.
If only I had my books."
What the matter?
What's going on?
What happened?
Who did that to you? Tell me!
- The wall!
It ate my fingers!
- What do you mean 'the wall'?
- It ate my fingers in my dreams.
- You touched that fucking book!
You read it last night!
- No, Marcus. Listen...
- I know when he loses a finger,
because I'm the one who holds
the knife, so don't fool with me!
- I'm telling you I didn't do anything!
And how do you explain that?
It's fucking healed!
Marcus.
If the book took Pquerette's fingers,
it can probably get them back.
Walk.
Carrre!
You'll ask Lassalle to read it.
- Why?
- To cure Pquerette. Only Lassalle
will know what to do with it.
- You don't think that it can bring back his fingers, do you?
- You said this book could be helpful?
You said we only need to understand it,
so you'll ask Lassalle to read it.
- Why don't you ask him yourself?
- He won't listen to me.
I can hit him. I can make him suffer.
He would be hurt. But he wouldn't be scared.
I can't force him to do anything.
- Why should I manage to?
Because you know how to talk,
and because you are scared of being hurt.
Why does Lassalle refuse to read?
- He thinks his books drove him crazy.
Everything he learnt.
Two minutes of dementia,
that's what psychiatrists said
when he murdered his wife
one morning during breakfast.
Haven't you noticed?
He nevers eats in the morning.
Carrre! Visiting room.
Tl !
Pquerette, I can't if you do this.
I won't read.
I won't read that book.
- Why do you say that?
Marcus is no subtle strategist.
You have to convince me to read the book.
Listen, Marcus is threatening me.
Do you really think it could give him his fingers back?
- I don't know what this book can do.
I'm not even asking you to read it.
I will. I'll describe you the formulas,
the drawings, the diagrams,
You listen. And you tell me what to do.
I'm not even asking you to look at the book.
I don't wanna undergo what you do.
- What do I undergo?
- I saw everything the other night.
- Ah, the sodomy?
I don't undergo it. I asked him for it.
- You didn't seem to enjoy it that much.
- I never said I liked it.
What I like is to have the choice.
It's my way to stay free. To choose.
- That's philosophical bullshit.
I don't have the choice.
I'm only asking you to give me a hand.
- Choosing to do something,
choosing not to do another.
- Lassalle...
- Choosing to get fucked,
choosing not to read.
Visiting room No.4,
20 minutes.
Claire,
Hugo's not here?
- No.
- Where is he?
- At his grandmother's.
You know I want to see him.
So, what did the lawyer said?
Have you payed the bail yet?
What's going on?
Is there a problem?
Why don't you say something?
It's gonna take more time, isn't it?
- I asked for divorce.
- What?
- Wait, what's going on here?
- You didn't even ask if I was ok.
- Claire... Claire !
Claire, come back!
Shut up.
Shut up! Shut the fuck up!
- Hey!
- I'm fed up with you often yelling at Pquerette.
Is that what's upsetting you?
Huh?
There are plenty of fish in the sea!
- Marcus.
Mr Carrre is already afflicted enough.
That's certainly the first time one of his objects of comfort leaves him before he gets rid of it.
Sport!
- Why don't you start by the last page?
That's what I used to do when I read.
Marcus...
We found out.
- Listen to Mr Carrre, Marcus.
"My researches are finally over.
Tonight I'll go through the stones."
"I am escaping at last."
- That's the formula he used to go out.
That may not give Pquerette his fingers back, but that's it.
With this book, we can escape.
- Lassalle!
- Mr. Carrre is a pragmatic man.
- Forget your stupid words. I just want to know.
- He told you it works.
You saw what the book could do.
Danvers said he found out.
With this formula, we can go out.
- How do I know that it's not risky?
You don't. But do you know one?
A way of escaping that's not risy?
When you're on the wall
with the guards shooting at you,
with Pquerette on your back.
Think.
He'll take the first bullet.
- Pquerette.
Would you like to get out of here?
- Infirmary?
- No, really getting out.
Outside. Both of us.
- Both of us ?
Yes!
- I hope that I'm welcome.
What's better than escaping by reading?
I'm not going.
What? What's wrong with you?
- Nothing. I never said I was going.
In a week or two, I'll be released by bail.
Frankly, I have no interest in escaping.
- You want to know?
I don't think your wife will pay for the bail.
- Don't worry. I'm full of surprises.
I still have business going on.
My lawyers will take care of this.
- Ah, lawyers...
Lassalle.
Still going?
- With pleasure.
Did something happen?
What do I do? I say it again?
Good.
Well, nothing. This book is bullshit. It doesn't work.
- Daddy...
Daddy...
Ah! I want to give a call! I want to talk to my son!
Let me out! Let me out!
I just want to talk to him! Let me go out!
- Carrre, shut up or
you'll end up in the hole!
- I just want to talk to him!
Let me out.
I just want to talk to him.
I want to talk to my son.
He tried to swallow the book.
No!
The book only defended itself.
We need it. It can get us out.
- Too late! You couldn't use it.
- Carrre couldn't.
- What?
You didn't help him?
He didn't help you?
- No, he refused to read it.
- Yes.
I did read it!
I'm about to understand, Marcus.
I just need some more time.
Danvers... practiced esotericism.
He was a master.
All initiates know his story.
I've always known it.
This journal...
many people have searched for it.
Some eventually believed it never existed.
You're holding it in your hands, Marcus.
Danvers escaped from this cell.
Believe me, we can get out.
Just like he did.
No, give it to me!
- You knew it was dangerous!
And you still you read it and didn't tell me!
- You were so hasty to please Marcus.
- If something happens to my son,
if he ever gets hurt...
- He fell from the bed?
Several times?
You're here for a long time, Marcus.
A very long time.
You know that?
By the way, how is your son?
- Shut the fuck up.
Vasquez and Marco didn't pay everything.
- Let's send them a bailiff!
Anyway, we did better than last week.
Almost 5 %.
- Hello!
Hippolyte Picus.
Nice to meet you.
Picus Hippolyte. Delighted!
Picus. P-I-C-U-S.
Call me Hippolyte.
Good.
Table.
Commodities. Lavatory.
View...
Ah! My place! Perfect!
You are lucky. I don't snore, I don't get up at night.
The right man's sleep, as they say.
But I have other flaws.
That's my little pleasure.
Some do crosswords, others do sports,
painting, genealogy...
and well, this is mine.
It follows me everywhere,
sees what I see and even what I don't.
It's my third eye.
You'll never guess how I manage to get it in.
You're right.
No matter why things are here,
what's important is that they are.
Why do I have the pleasure to meet you in here?
- And you, what did you do?
- Me?
- What's that book? Where did you find it?
I... I've always had it.
It comes from my mother.
who had it from her mother.
- Answer me!
- It's a book of recipes!
Look!
Recipes are good reading in jail.
The memory of the taste
is often stronger than taste itself.
Sorry.
You should read it. Maybe you'll find a recipe you love.
Stewed chicken?
Leave me alone!
- Don't you want to introduce yourself?
It's for my album.
I have a lot of people in there.
Plenty.
You know what it's like. Time passes by,
you forget faces, names.
With this you're immortal.
Don't you want to be immortal?
Once...
Once, a convict talked to me for 4 hours.
No interruption, 4 hours.
I was telling myself 'stop, let the others talk.'
But it was impossible. He felt so relieved.
- You want me to introduce myself?!
My name's Eric Carrre.
I'm gonna rot in here 'cause
my wife stripped me. I have nothing left.
Nothing for the bail, nothing for the lawyers.
- How could that happen?
- She's smarter than she looks.
She put her name on every administrative paper.
- She got you.
- Yeah.
Now she runs the company and she fired me.
- And if you were out, what would you do?
- I would make her suffer.
I would take my son,
and she would never see him again.
I would teach him to be like me,
even better than me.
Better than me.
- Your son is the most precious
thing you've got, right?
No one will ever take him away from you.
- No one.
- Especially not her.
- Especially not her.
- You could kill her.
Did they transfer him?
I didn't hear anything.
- What's wrong?
- Picus isn't here.
- At last.
Did you put it here?
- I really don't care about his camera.
- Wait, he couldn't walk out
and leave it just behind the door.
A present from the beautician.
- Hey why did you give us an asshole
in place of Pquerette?
- What asshole?
- Picus!
You're crazy!
Nobody replaced that idiot.
Come look.
He left us the user guide.
It's useless to try to get rid of it.
It will always come back.
- Let's burn it.
To end up like Pquerette?
Rewind.
That drawing!
I got it.
- What the fuck is going on?
Pquerette first and now what?
- The last time we
didn't have the right formula.
Now we know
how Picus got out.
- Picus, Picus...
Who's the fuck is this Picus?
- I believe what I see.
Tonight I'm leaving.
Lassalle?
- I'm coming.
You?
It's easier than climbing a wall.
- At least I know what a wall looks like.
- Then why didn't you do it earlier?
You have 50 kg less to carry now.
Maybe you talked about escaping
just to impress Pquerette.
- Maybe you're scared.
Tonight, I'm escaping.
I'm gonna get my son.
I'm split, I'm out,
I walk, I vanish.
Yeah, I'm disappearing.
I'm split, I'm out,
I walk, I vanish.
Yeah, I'm disappearing.
- Marcus.
- It's time.
- Carrre.
Ready to kill your wife?
- I'm just gonna get my son back.
- Instinct of property, as usual.
- Your bullshit considerations,
I don't give a fuck.
I don't care about what a murderer has to say.
What's this?
Where the fuck are we?
- In Danvers' cell.
in 1920.
- There's no door.
- We should be outside.
We should be outside!
- They walled up the cell
when Danvers disappeared.
It's a passage-way.
We have to go on.
It's the right direction.
- No, no, no.
I'm not going anywhere.
Bring us back.
- We can't go back.
We don't leave each other, we'll make it.
- I don't care, bring us back!
Take us back!
I don't wanna rot in here!
- Calm down!
- I don't wanna die in here!
Bring us back.
Bring us back !
We did exactly like Picus.
He must have come here.
How did he go on?
- These pages...
they didn't exist before.
The book is guiding us.
It's a celebration
meant to unite
the two genders
male and female.
The ceremony is led by some kind of priest.
The book doesn't want us to cheat.
Marcus...
Marcus!
What did you do?
Marcus?
Marcus!
- We're approaching.
- You're sick! You're sick!
Give your shirt!
Give me your shirt!
Marcus... you'll be fine.
Why did you do this?
- We can't lie to the book.
The book knew Marcus wanted to be a woman.
- Can't you see he's dying!
Marcus...
Marcus?
Marcus!
How do we get out? How do we get out?
We're progressing, right?
Marcus, Pquerette...
who'll have to die now for the other to make it?
- No one will escape.
The book was never meant to do that.
All the books I read were only asking questions.
This one has the answer.
- Answers to what?
- As for you, I don't know.
For me...
As for me, to everything I couldn't have learnt in my whole life.
- You have nothing.
Danvers escaped, and so will I.
You have nothing.
Somebody there?
Help!
- It's useless.
The book is the only way.
I'll escape and you'll die!
Come on.
Come on!
I never told you
why I killed my wife.
I had got up early for work.
To get to the kitchen,
I had to cross my office...
A circular hall with walls full of books.
That morning I stopped in the middle of the room.
I had the feeling the books...
were looking at me.
I wanted to go back,
but my legs refused to carry me.
The books began to...
pulse,
to beat louder and louder.
Words started going out of them,
hundreds, thousands of words.
They taunted me.
I beat at the air trying
to catch them, but...
they sliped through my fingers.
The books were teaching me a lesson.
They told me that...
I would never have the knowledge.
I didn't feel my hands tearing the covers,
I didn't feel my arms dislocating the shelves,
and I didn't feel my fingers
lacerating my wife's body.
Psychiatrists concluded it was two minutes of dementia.
But it was two minutes of lucidity.
Lassalle!
Lassalle!
The book... the cover...
Touch the cover.
Is it Braille? Is it?
- When Picus crossed the wall,
he wasn't reading the pages of the book,
but its cover.
With his fingers.
- Can you read this?
Can you?
Come on, read it!
- At least, I'll have knowledge.
- Read it and let's get out!
- Hah, you still don't understand!
Look where we are.
The book never
helped anybody to escape.
And especially not Danvers.
Danvers was a master of esotericism,
and he was crazy.
A perverse killer obsessed with
his desire to never get old.
When he got imprisoned,
there was only one thought in his mind.
Escape, to continue
his youth treatment.
He used his knowledge
of black magic to try to flee,
but he did something wrong,
and his body was never recovered.
Some say that occult forces came to him,
that they didn't help to go out,
but that they realized his dearest wish,
Beyond his greatest expectations.
That's not true.
It's not true, I'll get out.
- The forces Danvers
awakened are here.
The book is a mirror,
a mirror of our vanities.
Marcus saw himself the way he wanted to be.
- Marcus didn't see anything!
You killed him!
- I helped him choose!
Marcus never dared to become what he wanted.
- Read this fucking book!
- Now it's my turn
to realize my dearest wish.
Soon it will be yours.
- Read!
Why did you
drag us into this?
Get ready...
- I'm going to escape.
- Really?
I promise.
I just want to see my son.
I just want to look at him.
Hugo, stop that!
Hugo!
- I'm sorry but you can't see the body.
That's all that's left of his belongings.
So, don't you have something to tell me?
How was school today?
He never goes to school on Saturday mornings.
- Daddy?
Will you come to my birthday?
- Of course.
I'm going to escape.
Really?
I promise.
- For once, you'll have a good
reason not to keep your promise.
Claire, you'll post bail
and I'll be out, ok?
Can I have a real smile?
It's good to see you both.
- Hey, daddy!
He will help you to escape.
I'll bring it back to
you on your birthday.
Don't miss it, ok?
- Shut up Pquerette, I'm taking aim.
- Don't miss it !
- Pquerette, have I ever missed it?
- No.
No. So look me in the eyes.
It will be alright.
Look at me. Here...
you're looking at me ?
Infirmary!
Infirmary!
Look at me!
What did you do now?
Goodbye, Marcus!
Have a nice holiday, Pquerette!
Pquerette is escaping piece by piece.
He'll be out before we are.
Can you say 'dear Mister' for a lawyer?
- 'Sir' would be better.
- Well, shit. Fuck.
Oh, you never killed.
You're no dealer.
Your hands are neat... soft...
Gigolo?
Hum, no, too proud.
- I am running a company.
- Shit, I was going to find out!
"Running a company"...
Well you just lost a rank.
You were the boss.
Now you're the secretary.
Just what I am looking for!
- Marcus.
Please.
Did I miss the walk?
- He's at the library.
- He does look like someone
who spends his time with books.
- He works there.
He does not read books.
He puts them in order.
Anyway, he doesn't care. He's read them all.
How do I finish it?
'This confession was made
without any pressure nor constraints.'
You put the date and you sign.
- Marcus!
- So, how did it go?
- Great!
Buddy, buddy, buddy!
Well, time to make introductions.
So...
Here is Carrre,
head of a company.
Pquerette,
He likes going on trips to the infirmary.
For fresh air... to see the head doctor...
Two fingers of vacation.
Come on, go!
Pquerette, to the table.
Pquerette, please!
Here.
Hope you can afford it.
- One pays with cigarettes here?
I'll pay with cigars.
- Have any preferences?
- Only the best will do.
- Like always.
- What's the point of working, otherwise?
- Especially working honestly.
- Exactly, Marcus, exactly.
You know what's the real trick?
Making people believe that by working honnestly for 40 years, they're successful.
That's what journals say, what politicians say.
That's what my father used to say.
And then at the end,
what did he have? A house?
A car, a barbecue set.
A life.
He died one year after retirement.
Me, I chose shortcuts.
I may die at 60, but I'd had everything for 25 years.
The best cars, the best apartments, the best boats.
- And the most beautiful women?
- No, 'the' most beautiful woman.
- Happiness, then.
- Who talked about happiness?
I talked about comfort.
So, can I?
- Well, let's drink to your main residence!
- Secondary!
Secondary residence.
And temporary.
- What is happiness?
Comfort...
Jean...
Jean, my love...
Jean, please, listen to me...
Please... listen to me!
Do it again.
Do it again... kill me.
What the...! Shit!
What's that?
What is that?
When will you be clean?
How many times have I told you
to take a piss before going to bed?
It's not fucking complicated!
Stop eating random things!
Is that a hideout of yours, Carrre?
- No.
I felt something.
Looks like a diary.
It's the diary of a con.
Look at this.
October 7th, 1920.
Wow.
- What's that?
- That depends, look.
Here, that's Latin.
And there, that's Greek.
But that, I don't know.
- Another teacher
who blew a fuse.
Surely one of your collegues, Lasalle.
- You were a teacher?
A writer?
- Teacher, writer, philosopher, no one knows.
What's sure is that
he's known for what he did with his hands.
That's nice, my Paquerette.
It's beginning to turn me on.
- This is unbelievable.
'Danvers' was his name.
Charles Danvers.
Kind of a serial killer.
- So what? We also got some here.
- Yeah, but do you know why he was killing?
Because he was obsessed with youth.
He couldn't stand getting old.
So he started to steal placentas
from maternity hospitals
to make masks, creams.
I think he even injected them.
He was so obsessed
that he started to kill pregnant women to have fresher placentas.
- Not bad.
But while you were reading,
I held on for 10 minutes
on the tips of my fingers.
Suspended. With 50kg on my back.
Now the prison wall doesn't seem so high!
You're hoping to climb the wall with your bare hands?
- So what? Some did.
And why 50kg on your back?
Just guess
how much does my little Pquerette weigh?
How much?!
I'll take you with me, my little Pquerette.
I'll take you with me!
- And your written confessions?
Weren't you expecting a reduction of sentence?
- A reduction of sentence?
Not with what I confessed!
No, my confessions...
were only to give the names
of old friends who'd like to find me.
Here, I'm safe 'cause they're outside.
When I escape, because of
my confessions, they'll be inside.
If you want to do like me,
you'd better start training quickly!
- No need, no need.
In 15 days at most, my wife will pay the bail.
I'll be out before you are.
And what'll you do once outside?
- I don't know.
Maybe...
I will...
get rid of the only thing I don't wanna train.
- 50 kg...
...you must not eat trash...
...50 kg.
Why did you do this? Why?
You don't touch that.
It doesn't belong to you.
- But I didn't...I didn't.
- What? You didn't do that?
You didn't?
- Calm down. He says he didn't do it.
Of course.
So, who's sick enough to do that?
Listen...
I don't want you to touch
what's mine. Ok?
- Mr. Carrre.
If Pquerette had touched your toy,
there would be nothing left.
Simply because he would
have eaten it all. He eats everything.
You know, he ate my watch.
He eats everything, just like pigs.
Actually, he was raised among them.
In the barn of the family farm.
When he managed to get out,
he saw his little sister for the first time.
He was so glad that he ate her.
A six-month old baby.
Pquerette did not do this.
So what happened to your guy?
He cooked a baby?
Go on!
- It's weird. He's been in jail for a month now.
It looks like he's getting crazy.
Every day, he sees a new wrinkle on his face.
He's obsessed with escaping to get new placentas.
And here, he spends his time
engraving inscriptions on the wall.
- Well, yeah.
Four vertical lines across the wall, that's how you counts days!
- No, no, he had formulas in his head.
He was trying to remember them.
There are also drawings he copied.
He seems to be practicing black magic.
- Magic?
Magic!
Do some magic!
Do some magic, like on TV!
- That's nonsense.
- No.
Go on, do some magic!
- Pquerette! Come finish eating please.
Come on, come on, come on...
- Is there something left to drink?
- Did you ever taste the minesta cocktail?
You take some minesta,
mash it, turn it into powder,
mix it with some beer, toss, drink.
You'll see, you'll take off!
I can even get you straws if you want.
It doubles, triples the effect.
You don't have a good Bordeaux?
- He's insane.
Come on, read some magic!
Read me some magic!
- When you have something in mind...
You're glad?!
Shit.
What the fuck was that?
- I don't know.
Did he touch the alcohol?
- Impossible, I hide it so he won't drink it.
Did you draw that? With this?
- Yes.
It's magic.
It's magic.
Once more!
One more trick!
- Why don't you please him?
"I placed the four points which defined the direction of the winds,
and drew the lines which link them.
I pronounced the formula,
and a blow came out from the stones."
Go on.
- Sorry, I don't read.
Are you ok?
Calm down!
Shut up!
I didn't finish my coffee.
- Did you see that?
What do you think about it?
- Nothing.
- Wait, did you ever see a book like that?
I've never believed in that stuff, but now...
- So what? What else do you want?
- I don't know, aren't you
curious about what can be done with it?
I mean maybe it could be useful to us.
- Useful for what?
Burning? Blowing our heads?
I've seen enough. I don't wanna see more. Got it?
- It's because we weren't prepared. If we understand how it works...
And maybe this book is worth a fortune.
We have to try.
- You do what you want, but I warn you,
you don't open that book when
Pquerette and I are in the cell. Got it?
Danvers...
"I pronounced the formula
I found tonight three times.
The stones moved apart."
"The phenomena are transient.
Their logic is still escaping me, but I'm close to the aim.
If only I had my books."
What the matter?
What's going on?
What happened?
Who did that to you? Tell me!
- The wall!
It ate my fingers!
- What do you mean 'the wall'?
- It ate my fingers in my dreams.
- You touched that fucking book!
You read it last night!
- No, Marcus. Listen...
- I know when he loses a finger,
because I'm the one who holds
the knife, so don't fool with me!
- I'm telling you I didn't do anything!
And how do you explain that?
It's fucking healed!
Marcus.
If the book took Pquerette's fingers,
it can probably get them back.
Walk.
Carrre!
You'll ask Lassalle to read it.
- Why?
- To cure Pquerette. Only Lassalle
will know what to do with it.
- You don't think that it can bring back his fingers, do you?
- You said this book could be helpful?
You said we only need to understand it,
so you'll ask Lassalle to read it.
- Why don't you ask him yourself?
- He won't listen to me.
I can hit him. I can make him suffer.
He would be hurt. But he wouldn't be scared.
I can't force him to do anything.
- Why should I manage to?
Because you know how to talk,
and because you are scared of being hurt.
Why does Lassalle refuse to read?
- He thinks his books drove him crazy.
Everything he learnt.
Two minutes of dementia,
that's what psychiatrists said
when he murdered his wife
one morning during breakfast.
Haven't you noticed?
He nevers eats in the morning.
Carrre! Visiting room.
Tl !
Pquerette, I can't if you do this.
I won't read.
I won't read that book.
- Why do you say that?
Marcus is no subtle strategist.
You have to convince me to read the book.
Listen, Marcus is threatening me.
Do you really think it could give him his fingers back?
- I don't know what this book can do.
I'm not even asking you to read it.
I will. I'll describe you the formulas,
the drawings, the diagrams,
You listen. And you tell me what to do.
I'm not even asking you to look at the book.
I don't wanna undergo what you do.
- What do I undergo?
- I saw everything the other night.
- Ah, the sodomy?
I don't undergo it. I asked him for it.
- You didn't seem to enjoy it that much.
- I never said I liked it.
What I like is to have the choice.
It's my way to stay free. To choose.
- That's philosophical bullshit.
I don't have the choice.
I'm only asking you to give me a hand.
- Choosing to do something,
choosing not to do another.
- Lassalle...
- Choosing to get fucked,
choosing not to read.
Visiting room No.4,
20 minutes.
Claire,
Hugo's not here?
- No.
- Where is he?
- At his grandmother's.
You know I want to see him.
So, what did the lawyer said?
Have you payed the bail yet?
What's going on?
Is there a problem?
Why don't you say something?
It's gonna take more time, isn't it?
- I asked for divorce.
- What?
- Wait, what's going on here?
- You didn't even ask if I was ok.
- Claire... Claire !
Claire, come back!
Shut up.
Shut up! Shut the fuck up!
- Hey!
- I'm fed up with you often yelling at Pquerette.
Is that what's upsetting you?
Huh?
There are plenty of fish in the sea!
- Marcus.
Mr Carrre is already afflicted enough.
That's certainly the first time one of his objects of comfort leaves him before he gets rid of it.
Sport!
- Why don't you start by the last page?
That's what I used to do when I read.
Marcus...
We found out.
- Listen to Mr Carrre, Marcus.
"My researches are finally over.
Tonight I'll go through the stones."
"I am escaping at last."
- That's the formula he used to go out.
That may not give Pquerette his fingers back, but that's it.
With this book, we can escape.
- Lassalle!
- Mr. Carrre is a pragmatic man.
- Forget your stupid words. I just want to know.
- He told you it works.
You saw what the book could do.
Danvers said he found out.
With this formula, we can go out.
- How do I know that it's not risky?
You don't. But do you know one?
A way of escaping that's not risy?
When you're on the wall
with the guards shooting at you,
with Pquerette on your back.
Think.
He'll take the first bullet.
- Pquerette.
Would you like to get out of here?
- Infirmary?
- No, really getting out.
Outside. Both of us.
- Both of us ?
Yes!
- I hope that I'm welcome.
What's better than escaping by reading?
I'm not going.
What? What's wrong with you?
- Nothing. I never said I was going.
In a week or two, I'll be released by bail.
Frankly, I have no interest in escaping.
- You want to know?
I don't think your wife will pay for the bail.
- Don't worry. I'm full of surprises.
I still have business going on.
My lawyers will take care of this.
- Ah, lawyers...
Lassalle.
Still going?
- With pleasure.
Did something happen?
What do I do? I say it again?
Good.
Well, nothing. This book is bullshit. It doesn't work.
- Daddy...
Daddy...
Ah! I want to give a call! I want to talk to my son!
Let me out! Let me out!
I just want to talk to him! Let me go out!
- Carrre, shut up or
you'll end up in the hole!
- I just want to talk to him!
Let me out.
I just want to talk to him.
I want to talk to my son.
He tried to swallow the book.
No!
The book only defended itself.
We need it. It can get us out.
- Too late! You couldn't use it.
- Carrre couldn't.
- What?
You didn't help him?
He didn't help you?
- No, he refused to read it.
- Yes.
I did read it!
I'm about to understand, Marcus.
I just need some more time.
Danvers... practiced esotericism.
He was a master.
All initiates know his story.
I've always known it.
This journal...
many people have searched for it.
Some eventually believed it never existed.
You're holding it in your hands, Marcus.
Danvers escaped from this cell.
Believe me, we can get out.
Just like he did.
No, give it to me!
- You knew it was dangerous!
And you still you read it and didn't tell me!
- You were so hasty to please Marcus.
- If something happens to my son,
if he ever gets hurt...
- He fell from the bed?
Several times?
You're here for a long time, Marcus.
A very long time.
You know that?
By the way, how is your son?
- Shut the fuck up.
Vasquez and Marco didn't pay everything.
- Let's send them a bailiff!
Anyway, we did better than last week.
Almost 5 %.
- Hello!
Hippolyte Picus.
Nice to meet you.
Picus Hippolyte. Delighted!
Picus. P-I-C-U-S.
Call me Hippolyte.
Good.
Table.
Commodities. Lavatory.
View...
Ah! My place! Perfect!
You are lucky. I don't snore, I don't get up at night.
The right man's sleep, as they say.
But I have other flaws.
That's my little pleasure.
Some do crosswords, others do sports,
painting, genealogy...
and well, this is mine.
It follows me everywhere,
sees what I see and even what I don't.
It's my third eye.
You'll never guess how I manage to get it in.
You're right.
No matter why things are here,
what's important is that they are.
Why do I have the pleasure to meet you in here?
- And you, what did you do?
- Me?
- What's that book? Where did you find it?
I... I've always had it.
It comes from my mother.
who had it from her mother.
- Answer me!
- It's a book of recipes!
Look!
Recipes are good reading in jail.
The memory of the taste
is often stronger than taste itself.
Sorry.
You should read it. Maybe you'll find a recipe you love.
Stewed chicken?
Leave me alone!
- Don't you want to introduce yourself?
It's for my album.
I have a lot of people in there.
Plenty.
You know what it's like. Time passes by,
you forget faces, names.
With this you're immortal.
Don't you want to be immortal?
Once...
Once, a convict talked to me for 4 hours.
No interruption, 4 hours.
I was telling myself 'stop, let the others talk.'
But it was impossible. He felt so relieved.
- You want me to introduce myself?!
My name's Eric Carrre.
I'm gonna rot in here 'cause
my wife stripped me. I have nothing left.
Nothing for the bail, nothing for the lawyers.
- How could that happen?
- She's smarter than she looks.
She put her name on every administrative paper.
- She got you.
- Yeah.
Now she runs the company and she fired me.
- And if you were out, what would you do?
- I would make her suffer.
I would take my son,
and she would never see him again.
I would teach him to be like me,
even better than me.
Better than me.
- Your son is the most precious
thing you've got, right?
No one will ever take him away from you.
- No one.
- Especially not her.
- Especially not her.
- You could kill her.
Did they transfer him?
I didn't hear anything.
- What's wrong?
- Picus isn't here.
- At last.
Did you put it here?
- I really don't care about his camera.
- Wait, he couldn't walk out
and leave it just behind the door.
A present from the beautician.
- Hey why did you give us an asshole
in place of Pquerette?
- What asshole?
- Picus!
You're crazy!
Nobody replaced that idiot.
Come look.
He left us the user guide.
It's useless to try to get rid of it.
It will always come back.
- Let's burn it.
To end up like Pquerette?
Rewind.
That drawing!
I got it.
- What the fuck is going on?
Pquerette first and now what?
- The last time we
didn't have the right formula.
Now we know
how Picus got out.
- Picus, Picus...
Who's the fuck is this Picus?
- I believe what I see.
Tonight I'm leaving.
Lassalle?
- I'm coming.
You?
It's easier than climbing a wall.
- At least I know what a wall looks like.
- Then why didn't you do it earlier?
You have 50 kg less to carry now.
Maybe you talked about escaping
just to impress Pquerette.
- Maybe you're scared.
Tonight, I'm escaping.
I'm gonna get my son.
I'm split, I'm out,
I walk, I vanish.
Yeah, I'm disappearing.
I'm split, I'm out,
I walk, I vanish.
Yeah, I'm disappearing.
- Marcus.
- It's time.
- Carrre.
Ready to kill your wife?
- I'm just gonna get my son back.
- Instinct of property, as usual.
- Your bullshit considerations,
I don't give a fuck.
I don't care about what a murderer has to say.
What's this?
Where the fuck are we?
- In Danvers' cell.
in 1920.
- There's no door.
- We should be outside.
We should be outside!
- They walled up the cell
when Danvers disappeared.
It's a passage-way.
We have to go on.
It's the right direction.
- No, no, no.
I'm not going anywhere.
Bring us back.
- We can't go back.
We don't leave each other, we'll make it.
- I don't care, bring us back!
Take us back!
I don't wanna rot in here!
- Calm down!
- I don't wanna die in here!
Bring us back.
Bring us back !
We did exactly like Picus.
He must have come here.
How did he go on?
- These pages...
they didn't exist before.
The book is guiding us.
It's a celebration
meant to unite
the two genders
male and female.
The ceremony is led by some kind of priest.
The book doesn't want us to cheat.
Marcus...
Marcus!
What did you do?
Marcus?
Marcus!
- We're approaching.
- You're sick! You're sick!
Give your shirt!
Give me your shirt!
Marcus... you'll be fine.
Why did you do this?
- We can't lie to the book.
The book knew Marcus wanted to be a woman.
- Can't you see he's dying!
Marcus...
Marcus?
Marcus!
How do we get out? How do we get out?
We're progressing, right?
Marcus, Pquerette...
who'll have to die now for the other to make it?
- No one will escape.
The book was never meant to do that.
All the books I read were only asking questions.
This one has the answer.
- Answers to what?
- As for you, I don't know.
For me...
As for me, to everything I couldn't have learnt in my whole life.
- You have nothing.
Danvers escaped, and so will I.
You have nothing.
Somebody there?
Help!
- It's useless.
The book is the only way.
I'll escape and you'll die!
Come on.
Come on!
I never told you
why I killed my wife.
I had got up early for work.
To get to the kitchen,
I had to cross my office...
A circular hall with walls full of books.
That morning I stopped in the middle of the room.
I had the feeling the books...
were looking at me.
I wanted to go back,
but my legs refused to carry me.
The books began to...
pulse,
to beat louder and louder.
Words started going out of them,
hundreds, thousands of words.
They taunted me.
I beat at the air trying
to catch them, but...
they sliped through my fingers.
The books were teaching me a lesson.
They told me that...
I would never have the knowledge.
I didn't feel my hands tearing the covers,
I didn't feel my arms dislocating the shelves,
and I didn't feel my fingers
lacerating my wife's body.
Psychiatrists concluded it was two minutes of dementia.
But it was two minutes of lucidity.
Lassalle!
Lassalle!
The book... the cover...
Touch the cover.
Is it Braille? Is it?
- When Picus crossed the wall,
he wasn't reading the pages of the book,
but its cover.
With his fingers.
- Can you read this?
Can you?
Come on, read it!
- At least, I'll have knowledge.
- Read it and let's get out!
- Hah, you still don't understand!
Look where we are.
The book never
helped anybody to escape.
And especially not Danvers.
Danvers was a master of esotericism,
and he was crazy.
A perverse killer obsessed with
his desire to never get old.
When he got imprisoned,
there was only one thought in his mind.
Escape, to continue
his youth treatment.
He used his knowledge
of black magic to try to flee,
but he did something wrong,
and his body was never recovered.
Some say that occult forces came to him,
that they didn't help to go out,
but that they realized his dearest wish,
Beyond his greatest expectations.
That's not true.
It's not true, I'll get out.
- The forces Danvers
awakened are here.
The book is a mirror,
a mirror of our vanities.
Marcus saw himself the way he wanted to be.
- Marcus didn't see anything!
You killed him!
- I helped him choose!
Marcus never dared to become what he wanted.
- Read this fucking book!
- Now it's my turn
to realize my dearest wish.
Soon it will be yours.
- Read!
Why did you
drag us into this?
Get ready...
- I'm going to escape.
- Really?
I promise.
I just want to see my son.
I just want to look at him.
Hugo, stop that!
Hugo!
- I'm sorry but you can't see the body.
That's all that's left of his belongings.