Put everything in the bags. Oh, the coffin's here.
Put it here, on the small table.
There you are. Come on. That's it.
Now put him in here.
Carefully, eh?
That's another one who can be buried properly, eh?
Only another... 98,137 to go.
Oh dear, is that the time already? Time flies, doesn't it?
Don't forget there's no school tomorrow, kids.
See you Monday, Miss.
And tell your mom and dad to make sure they make the right choice on Sunday.
Hello. Allow me to introduce our newest friend, Porki.
This pig robot was specially designed
for you, modern pig breeders.
Hello, Porki.
This machine makes your work easier.
From now on, no more messing around in your pigsty,
no more crazy antics to get your sows pregnant.
Yes, Porki, yes.
Look at that, isn't it wonderful?
We're putting progress into operation.
One press of this button and Porki does his job.
This robotic computer works using smell and sound recognition.
The smell the robot gives off stimulates your pigs' pheromones,
so that a spontaneous desire to reproduce is awakened.
Your sow will interpret the computer's grunting as a mating grunt,
as a result of which she will be sexually receptive.
SCIENTIFIC CAMERA
Thanks to Porki your fertility problems are a thing of the past.
Thank you, who? Thank you, Porki.
Hey, Porki, don't you listen to me anymore?
Com. Sales is doing extremely well.
Because, for Com. Sales there is no substitute for...
Victory! - No substitute for... victory!
One, two, three, four, five.
Victory!
My friends, you are going to sell your friend Porki
to the biggest pig breeders in the Benelux. How are we going to do that?
Via an incredible competition with very simple rules.
Whoever sells the most Porkies... wins.
Whoever sells the fewest, loses.
The winner will receive an extra year's pay, this amazing wheel
with the accompanying All-Wheel Drive Crossover Convertible...
And, hold on, possibly the most important thing of all...
a kiss from Katja.
Whoever loses, will be sacked immediately
and his salary paid to the winner.
The competition will run for 3 nights and 3 days
and end Sunday evening, precisely.
And, my dear friends, it will start...
now!
Go! And Friesland, go. And Limburg, go.
The Kempen, go. And go, go, go!
Mr Fierens, does it really have to be this weekend?
Yeah, well, it's your choice, Tony.
Do you want to be a winner or a loser?
Let me see. Westhoek?
Tony Roozen, lucky you, that's a pig paradise.
Come on, go, go, go. That's the spirit, Tony.
And remember, the jungle is dark but it's full of diamonds.
Fuck, Andy! - What's the matter?
I'm supposed to go to the Ardennes with Bea and her parents.
What's the problem?
I was going to officially ask her to marry me.
Yabba-Dabba, motherfucker! Congratulations.
Now Fierens has come up with the competition. What do I do?
Ask her a week later. She's not going anywhere.
Nor are the Ardennes. A car and a year's pay are at stake.
If you've got to choose between the jackpot or the Ardennes,
I know what I'd choose. - Fuck! You're right.
Of course I'm right, I'm a pig farmer. And a pig farmer is always right.
Do something about that outfit, pal.
Hello, new best friend.
Hi, it's Bea. Leave a message. I'll definitely call you back. Bye-bye.
Bea, it's me. I'm coming to the Ardennes but I'll be a bit late.
I have to take part in a competition at work. Another of Fierens' ideas.
Maybe you can go to the Ardennes with your parents in their car?
Can you call me? Bye... Oh yeah, there are some great prizes to be won.
Triple kiss. Bye-bye.
Oh, Tony. - Hi, baby.
Tony, please, tell me I misunderstood you.
What's this about a competition? - I don't have a choice.
Don't you have respect for anyone?
My parents are really looking forward to it. Dad's even taking his banjo.
What have you got to say to that? - Do you think I'm happy about it?
We have to sell pigs, well, no, robots, actually...
and whoever sells the most pigs, wins. - Wins what?
A luxury car... A convertible.
Really? - Yes. And an extra year's pay.
So when are you coming to the Ardennes? - Tomorrow evening. If all goes well.
Make sure that all goes well, eh? You've got to win, Tony.
That's the idea, losing's not an option.
As long as you know. If you lose, you can stay there.
I'm going to win, darling. For us.
So, is it OK? - Yes.
Triple kiss? - Triple kiss.
Take the E40 highway.
Take the first exit in the direction of Westhoek.
Now turn right.
Follow this road for 300 meters.
Now turn left.
Now turn right.
You are on a non-digitized road.
Turn round.
You are on a non-digitized road. - Oh no! Come on!
Turn round.
Oh, fuck!
Oh, fuck.
Hello?
Bloody hell!
Sir! Excuse me. Sir!
Excuse me, sir. Excuse me.
Could you tell me where I am, please?
In Madonna, as they call it. - Where?
Madonna.
I... I'm looking for a hotel.
Are you a sales traveler?
Yes. Tony Roozen, Com. Sales. 'No substitute for victory.'
I'm looking for a room for the night.
I've had an accident with my van.
You can stay at Gusta's, Under the Lime Tree.
Oh, and where's that?
Well, next to the lime tree... Where the lime tree used to be.
But it was hit by lightning in '03.
Three euros.
Sorry? - Admission is three euros.
I haven't come to see the museum, sir. I'm looking for someone to help me.
I've had an accident. I drove my van into a ditch.
You looked in through the window. So that's three euros.
Now I'd like to ask you to get off my property. The museum is about to close.
Hello, madam. I need to make an urgent phone call.
Madam?
I've had enough. It's too ridiculous for words.
Come back, Maria. It's an open debate.
Everyone is entitled to their opinion. - You listen to one another in a debate.
What do they take me for? - You're being unreasonable.
Unreasonable? - Unreasonable. Now you know.
My school has ten pupils left. If one more leaves, it'll have to close.
That's the end of your village, Mr Mayor. Worry about that instead.
And come out from behind my bar.
I'm not having a private discussion with you.
So may I ask you politely to come back to the meeting?
You're a member of our panel, some degree of responsibility is required.
Hello... Could you help me? I... - Just a moment.
Gusta, I'm going to have a beer. I'll write it down.
A moment, yeah...
Right, to get back to the agenda.
Just before our charming village school teacher's emotional outburst
we had reached the final item, Other Business.
We haven't actually achieved a thing.
There's a request from Brussels and Europe to widen the old road to Madonna
and turn the crossroads into a roundabout.
That request is being ignored by the local council
because the mayor and his pals would rather have a new main road,
from the coast to Madonna, through the battlefields. Do you know why?
So their fields will be compulsorily purchased in order to make them more money.
That's a load of rubbish. - It isn't.
That's a load of rubbish and you know it.
We're not ignoring anything. The request from Brussels isn't unreasonable
but maybe there are other alternatives
that they wouldn't think of in Brussels but that we, the local authority, would
because of our experience in the field.
But this is a real democracy here. So we're going to vote on it on Sunday.
Anyway, Miss, seeing as you are so concerned about your school
and our village emptying, you should vote for the new road.
Because that new road will improve access to our village
and attract new families and, listen, new pupils.
That will take at least ten years, Your Worship.
We don't have that. And battlefields mustn't be sacrificed for a new road.
The battlefields. There she goes again. - I agree, I agree.
If we have to wait till the plans for a new main road
have been approved by Europe's officials, it'll be too late.
The English will never agree to us laying a new road through their battlefields.
Their fallen soldiers are there.
No, we should opt to widen the old road.
Persyn, you're only against our proposal
because your petrol station is on the old road
and you won't benefit from a new main road.
I have to think of my business. You don't get something for nothing.
I can understand that, seeing as you are a businessman,
but the fact that you, as a businessman, refuse to do your job
by not supplying your fellow villagers with petrol or other lubricants
and make everyone's life here unnecessarily complicated,
making it difficult for us...
refusing to do that is what I call blackmail.
He's right, you know.
I'm not refusing. I'm on strike. It's a one-man campaign.
It's nothing but blackmail. - Calm down, Roger.
That junction, where that statue is, is a triangle.
And the only thing Europe is asking us to do
is to turn that junction into a roundabout and widen the old road.
It isn't a triangle. The Madonna junction isn't a triangle.
Those corners aren't points. A triangle without points...
Miss, as a school teacher you should know
what a triangle without points is. It's a circle!
That Madonna is going to stay there.
She's stood there all her life and she's going to stay there.
Roger, that roundabout is triangular. It's a triangle.
We can't deny it. It is, in fact, a hexagon.
If I could, I'd go on strike with Persyn,
but I don't want to let your children down. This debate is a waste of time.
I have work to do. - What did she say?
She's off. She's off again.
That's easy. - In her case that's insubordination.
Calm down, Roger. - Right.
I'm going to try to explain it one more time.
The widening of the old road is the least painful solution.
And if that statue has to stand on a roundabout instead of at a crossroads,
so be it. So I'm sticking to my guns.
As long as there is opposition, I'm not supplying anyone with petrol. No one.
Who doesn't agree can go to Ypres, 30 km away.
And another thing, if the vote goes against it Sunday,
I'm setting fire to my pumps and I'm out of here.
If threats are going to be made, we'd better stop.
We're going to stop. Sunday's referendum will decide.
There you go, Gusta.
Are you the garage owner?
Yes. Passed down from father to son, for more than fifty years.
What are you doing here?
My work, I'm a sales rep. Com. Sales...
'No substitute for victory.'
I didn't go to school for that long. - A sales traveler.
A sales traveler? Do you want to sell me something?
No, no, no, I've driven my van into a ditch.
I thought maybe you could help me and pull me out.
Where did it happen?
On the road near that statue of Madonna, by that... triangular roundabout.
Now he's going on about a triangle too. It hasn't got any corners, has it?
That's a roundabout, eh? - That'll do.
You must be a real idiot if you drove into that ditch.
I was a bit disoriented.
I thought I saw a soldier jump in front of my van,
turned my wheel and ended up in the ditch.
A soldier? The last one to see soldiers here was Gusta.
Eh, Gusta? How long ago was it that you saw soldiers? In 1917?
Eh? When your Prosper went to the front?
That's a long time ago, so if you saw a soldier,
you don't need a mechanic, you need a doctor.
Here, Your Worship, I've got a customer for you.
No one here is laughing at your jokes, Persyn.
Maybe that's because you're not joking.
I don't need your help, doctor. - The mayor is a vet.
He pretends he's a doctor after work. An amateur gynecologist.
Hey, Persyn, you've been warned.
I'll tell you what...
Buy me a snifter and I'll pull you out tomorrow, OK?
Miss, a glass of snifter, please.
Thanks.
Five euros.
Right.
Hey, lad, where are you going to sleep?
They told me there would be a room here.
That's true. But you're going to have to ask Gusta nicely first, you young colt.
Room seven.
Up the stairs.
You can't miss it, there's only one room.
Thanks.
I just have to fetch a few things...
What a strange guy! - He's gone.
What a really strange guy!
You must be stupid to end up in the ditch.
He was fiddling with...
That isn't a triangle, is it? - No, Roger, no...
Goodnight.
Are you sure you don't want to sleep in your bed?
It's late, he's not going to come any more, is he?
Right then.
God bless you and keep you, Gusta.
See you tomorrow morning.
Who locked this?
Right then.
Hey, pal, take it easy, take it easy.
There's no need to be scared. You mustn't lock that.
Our Gusta has to be able to get to the bathroom at night, see?
It's me again.
There, that's better. Do you mind if I smoke a pipe?
There.
They say smoking isn't good for you.
But living isn't either, because you end up dead.
Look at me.
I hope there isn't too much damage to your car. You made me jump.
Normally people can't see me, but you obviously can.
I thought you overreacted a bit. You could have killed yourself.
Those motorized vehicles are dangerous, you know.
You need to be careful with them.
I remember an attack on Dikkebusch, 18 September 1917.
The Prussians had obviously received a new load of ammunition
and they wanted to try it out on us, of course.
Hour after hour, grenades raining down on us.
Shrapnel flying past our ears.
Florent, my pal, was lying next to me. His last day at the front.
And, would you believe it? A grenade landed on him.
The bottom half of his body was ripped from the top half. In two bits.
His intestines, his stomach, everything, was floating in a pool of blood.
And he looked at me, what was left of him, and he said,
'Prosper, shoot me.'
I said, 'Florent...' 'Go on, shoot me.'
And I drew my gun...
but before I could shoot him, he was dead.
And then all that machinery, the tanks, appeared.
That was also a new invention. They wanted to try that out on us too.
They drove right over Florent, over all the bits.
His head got stuck in the caterpillar tracks.
I thought, that's not right, so I crawled behind the tanks
and tried to pry his head out of the caterpillar tracks
but my arm suddenly got stuck and I lost it. My arm.
I'm going to go now. I can see you're tired.
I'll let you get some sleep.
Lay on the left side of the bed,
there are too many springs that can stick in your back on the right side.
Goodnight, my friend.
The button activates the pheromone stimulators
which, thanks to the Aeroflex speakers, produce a natural sound.
The robot has a state-of-the-art SV-54 smell diffusion system
with a refillable cartridge.
Press button C. Press button C.
The robot can be connected to the outlets via a cord that is supplied separately.
Good morning.
Oh, good morning. What do I owe you?
250 euro. - 250 euro?
Breakfast included.
That's not exactly cheap for a small room like that.
Is there something wrong with the room? - No, no.
It's just that you'd expect a bit more luxury for that price.
You can't exactly describe that room as special.
Did it have to be special?
Shall I tell you something?
Madonna, the singer, slept there in 1980.
Is that special enough?
Madonna? Upstairs?
Yes. Upstairs. In room seven. In your bed.
She was a background dancer.
With Patrick Hernandez. - OK...
Deal.
I slept well, although...
I had a bit of a strange dream about a soldier.
What did you dream?
Oh, nothing, nothing. I often have strange dreams.
Especially when I'm hungry.
Our pork brawn is the best in the area.
Madonna is crazy about it. She regularly has five kilos sent to America.
Doesn't she live in England? - Does it matter where she lives?
If Madonna prefers to have it sent to America, that's her business.
Oh, right. Yes, of course.
Very nice.
Right...
I've got to go now, Gusta. I'll come and get you this afternoon.
Do you take credit cards?
I can pay cash but I'd like to hang on to my bills.
Only cash. Leave it on the bar when you go.
OK, I will, Miss. - Maria.
Tony.
Right, adieu.
What? - See you later, maybe.
Oh no, I'm leaving for the Ardennes.
Once my van's been pulled out of the ditch, I'll be off.
Right. Toodle-oo.
Oh, him there.
Good morning. Is there a hotspot for my iPhone here anywhere?
Hotspot, what's that? - A what?
A hotspot. For my iPhone.
Are you on steroids or something? - No.
But I need to make an urgent phone call.
What do you think that phone booth is there for?
Hello.
I've come to get my van pulled out of the ditch.
I'm on strike. - Pardon?
I'm on strike.
Yesterday you said... - Yesterday was yesterday,
today is today. A strike can't be predicted.
If you don't help me, I will lose my job and my future wife too, maybe.
Then I've got good news. There may be a vacancy for a pump attendant soon.
And if you lose your wife you can have mine.
Are you going to help me? - No, I'm on strike.
If I don't show solidarity with myself, I can't ask others to.
You look like you didn't sleep very well.
Listen...
I'll give you 300 euros
to forget your principles for 10 minutes and start up your tow truck and help me.
Then you can carry on striking.
Is there a hole in the wall here? - A what?
A cash dispenser.
In Ypres, 30 km away.
30 km... How can I leave today then?
You can't. Not until after the referendum.
But that's too late for me.
Look, the referendum is officially planned for Sunday,
you can't change that.
What if the vote doesn't go the way you want?
I'll set fire to my pumps and they can all kiss my ass.
Then you'll be in luck, there will be a vacancy.
What?
Feel the power, Tony. The jungle is dark but it's full of diamonds.
To war!
What do you think of that?
The guided tour starts next door. - I've come about something else.
Come on. Hold on. Take a seat.
Come on. Come on, come on.
Close your eyes.
Open your eyes.
I don't need any modern art in my museum.
It's not modern art.
It's a machine that is going to change the art of pig breeding.
Anyway, talking of modern,
I can see you're an enlightened farmer. We like that at Com. Sales.
Take a good look.
That animal is going to change your life.
Let that pig loose in your sty and your boars will perform like never before.
Your sows will get pregnant... just like that.
It is very easy to use.
You just sit in your chair, press the button on the remote control and...
off it goes.
It makes a natural mating sound thanks to its Aeroflex speakers
and it has a state-of-the-art SV-54 smell diffusion system
with a cartridge. Supplied separately at a very interesting price.
You can connect him to the outlets using this cable.
But you won't need to do that very often as the battery lasts at least two weeks.
I can see that you realize that this is the future.
So I'm prepared to do something special for you.
You can have Porki for a one month trial period...
free of charge.
I'm saying it quietly because my boss mustn't hear it. Understand?
And if you sign a contract now, you get a 20% discount the first year.
And 20% the second year too.
What do you say to that?
I don't have pigs anymore.
I don't have my pigs.
What about that barn? - Empty. Completely empty.
Well, full of junk. But no pigs.
That isn't actually open to the public yet.
Let's go for it.
You say it's modern? And I can have it for a one month trial period?
And then a 20% discount three years in a row.
What do you think, Berta? - Will it work, Pol? What do you think?
Do you really think I'd come all the way from Brussels
to sell you something that didn't work?
300 euro is a lot of money, of course. - We'll do a deal.
We'll go to your barn now. I'll switch my pig on.
If there is no result within five minutes, I'll give you 100 euro. Cash.
You'll see. Within five minutes your barn's windows will be...
steamed up.
Five minutes.
100 euro.
Alright then. We'll do that.
I always say you have to move with the times.
Five minutes. And... start!
Where are your pigs?
Hanging up in a fridge somewhere.
Europe pays me to leave my barns empty.
Why didn't you tell me? - You didn't ask.
Your five minutes are almost up.
I can't see any steamed-up windows yet.
And stop. Five minutes exactly.
Hi, baby. - Tony! About time.
I've been trying to call you for ages. I can't get a signal in this backwater.
You've got one now. - I'm in a phone booth, with coins.
Oh, listen carefully, my father's playing his banjo.
Oh, great. Great. It sounds good. - Don't disappoint him.
No, no, no, I'm coming. I'm definitely coming.
I'll just be a bit late, I think... tomorrow at the latest.
What do you mean, tomorrow? No, Mom, I'll figure it out.
Baby, you promised me you'd... - I know, baby, but I'm stuck here,
I've had an accident. - An accident? Are you hurt?
No, I'm OK, you know me. My van needs to be repaired.
Otherwise I'll come to you. Where are you staying?
I'm staying in a small hotel where Madonna once stayed.
Have you snorted something?
No, seriously, the singer once slept in my bed.
Baby, are you really alright?
Yes, I'm alright. But I did have a strange dream.
A strange dream? What about?
About a dead soldier from World War One.
Tony. There's something wrong...
Hello? Hello, Bea? Baby?
Hello?
Hello? Bea, hello?
Bloody hell!
Gusta, I've got your dressing gown.
So you haven't left then?
Shall we get out?
No... I've decided not to leave until tomorrow.
There's a 100 euro discount from the second night,
coffee and continental breakfast included.
What is a continental breakfast?
A pork brawn sandwich.
There is also a special local breakfast, that's 8 euros extra.
Oh, and what's that?
Two pork brawn sandwiches.
Right, Gusta, come on, let's get out now.
That's it. Watch out.
Sorry, but... is there a restaurant around here anywhere?
There's a place that does a table d'hôte.
Once outside, go straight ahead along Dorpsstraat,
across the square to the church, through the graveyard,
then with the church behind you and the school to your right,
look left and you'll see a small house.
Go over to it, ring the bell and say I sent you.
Make sure you're there at nine on the dot, if you want something to eat.
Come on, I'll help you.
Come here, Gusta, I'll help you.
Are you going to keep that shower hat on?
I'm going to do your nails too. Watch out. Go on.
Good evening.
We have a dish of the day for 25 euros, drink included.
Come in.
Do you live here?
We've got another guest this evening. My great-granny, Gusta.
Maria, actually I wanted to... - I have to check on the food.
Maria, I...
How are you, is everything fine?
You made me jump! Bloody hell!
Never seen a dead man before, I suppose?
Come with me.
Straight ahead.
You're going to help me.
I am definitely not crazy. I am not crazy.
I've been seeing Prosper's ghost for years. He's my great-grandpa.
His bones are out in the fields
amongst 100,000 other dead soldiers who've never been dug up.
But his ghost wanders around here and he pops in every evening at 9.
I tried talking to my doctor about it.
He said it was nervous exhaustion and wanted to send me to the nut house.
But you see him too, eh? So he's real.
And you just walked through him. - No, no, no, calm down.
Calm down. This is getting a bit too freaky for my liking.
There's too much iodine in the air here, it makes you hallucinate.
I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's true.
Or LSD. The CIA carried out military tests with LSD in the fifties.
They dropped LSD by plane on a village in France to see how people reacted.
Tony, my great-granny doesn't want to die until she's found Prosper's body
and given him a decent burial.
I've been searching the battlefields for his bones for years.
But to no avail up till now.
That doesn't mean I don't appreciate her efforts, you know. On the contrary.
But you need luck too.
I've already found ten bodies but not Prosper's.
And now his ghost walks around here, whistling.
But I'm sure his remains are out there somewhere.
Absolutely, affirmative.
If she could find my right arm for starters, it'd be good.
One arm's impractical. There's lots I can't do. I was a good swimmer.
They want to build a road through the battlefields.
Tony, you've got to help me and Gusta find Prosper.
Before a bulldozer pulverizes him.
I'd really appreciate it.
His bones must be here in a field somewhere.
That reminds me of... - Leave us alone for a moment.
Hey, take it easy. All you need do is say so calmly.
I know when I'm not wanted.
Easy, Tony, easy. Come on. You can hear a banjo, very quietly,
and a gurgling river. Bea is putting the sleeping bags out.
You throw some wood on the fire, then you're going to ask Bea to marry you.
Come on, come on.
I think the food is ready.
And he destroyed our phone booth.
Seriously? - Yes.
That pig of his isn't kosher.
He went to see Nachtegaele too. - And what's-his-name... Vanwachtebeke.
He tried to bribe him, with lots of money.
Yeah, it's... there's something that doesn't add up.
Roger, something's wrong. Something's wrong and now he's at Maria's.
Now he's at Maria's, a beautiful girl. It's a crying shame.
Maria, as obstinate as her father, such a shame.
You know what I think about it, eh?
You shouldn't judge people by appearances. Never.
That's true, Roger. I love all my villagers equally.
Yeah. Yeah.
Every one of them. - That's good.
There's something special about Maria. - No, Jean-Pierre.
Something special. That's like with sheep.
What do you mean? - Well, you love all your sheep
equally too, eh? But sometimes one stands out from the rest.
That... That only happened once. And it was simply an accident.
That sheep was standing in front of me and fell on top of me.
I'm not suggesting anything.
I didn't know that you... - That I what?
It's nice. I don't recognize the taste but it's nice.
Flemish ratatouille. Gusta's favorite meal, eh Gusta?
Tripe with potatoes, boiled in coffee.
Tripe?
Intestines.
That reminds me.
Did I tell you how I lost my arm?
It was ripped off by caterpillar tracks.
That took me by surprise. But there...
Those are things... - You should eat something, Gusta.
The Prussians' grenades were raining down on our head.
British tanks were behind us.
So I thought, I've got to do something.
Then I jumped in a crater made by a grenade
but I wasn't the only one in it.
There were two Prussians in it too.
They obviously had the same idea, a few weeks before.
It was an unusual sight.
Let's just say there wasn't much left of them.
A sort of blood and guts soup,
with ripped off arms, bits of bone and eyes floating in it.
German tripe.
I could... I could see they were Prussian eyes.
The look in them.
There's something special about eyes.
Ding dong! Ding dong! Open the door.
Maria! Open the door, please!
Hello! It's your pal at the door. Hello!
Oh, Maria, my angel. My cherub.
Wrap your wings round me...
Ask your wife to do that with her wings. And keep your voice down.
Your Worship... - Listen to me, you beautiful child.
I'm not a child. And I'm not listening. And I've got a visitor.
Who's in your house? Eh? - Ugh, you stinking toad! Goodnight!
Open the door! Hey! Hurry up, open the door! Open the door...
Listen carefully. If you and I could have a good talk,
like two adults, we would be able to save ourselves and everyone else
lots and lots and lots of bother and lots of misery on Sunday.
We'll talk about it tomorrow morning. - No... Maria! Maria!
Some soldiers' eyes were burnt away by the mustard gas.
Can you imagine?
What's up? - I've got to go.
Have you had enough already? You've hardly eaten anything.
Do you want a drink? - It's late.
A coffee? - No, I have to get up early tomorrow.
No!
Tony... help me find him.
I'll leave the money on the bar.
You don't belong here, pal. And leave my woman alone.
If it were up to me I'd be long gone. Everyone's as mad as a hatter here!
Hey, pal... - Fuck, man.
You will go down on bended knee and apologize to Our Lady and say
you should never have come to our village.
You can say that again.
Fancy it coming to this.
Hooligans in Madonna.
Didn't you recognize the boys? - No, Mother. It was dark.
Listen to me, sweetheart, I'll tell you something.
It's a bad time for decent people like us.
That's enough, that's enough.
Haven't left yet then?
Do you have the number of a local taxi?
Yes.
Can you give it to me? - No, I'm on strike. Still.
Can I make a phone call from here?
There's a phone booth by the church.
It's broken. - Right.
May I use your shovel?
I don't have one. - What's that then?
That's a spade.
May I use your spade, please?
Yes.
Thank you.
You're welcome. It's always a pleasure to help.
See, I'm not contrary.
Hello.
I may have overdone it a bit yesterday.
I can understand that you're a bit confused.
A bit confused, a bit confused...
A day and a half ago my life was absolutely fine.
Then, suddenly, I end up in the boondocks.
In a hotel with only one room where Madonna is supposed to have stayed.
Pig farms everywhere where they've got everything except... pigs.
Plus a drunk mayor, who's a vet,
who can't keep his hands off the women.
You could call that local color.
But being expected to believe in a dead soldier who walks around here whistling,
sorry, but that's just a bit too over the top for me.
I'm not just a bit confused, I think I must have a screw loose.
And I've probably lost my job too.
Meanwhile, my fiancée has been waiting in the Ardennes for me for two days.
Who calls his girlfriend his fiancée?
Do you know what I want to do? Make one phone call.
Just one call, to my fiancée, to tell her I'll be late,
to say our life together can begin after this and we'll soon forget this weekend.
Watch out for shells. The ditches are full of unexploded ammunition.
You're crazy, pal!
Maria...
Maria, sorry.
You don't understand shit, do you?
Here, in the boondocks, where we crawl around,
you may not find a hotspot, but people live here.
A little bit of respect wouldn't go amiss.
There's a cell phone tower on the church spire but it's switched off.
They installed it to get a grant
and the mayor, the vet, the womanizer, had it switched off
because the radiation is bad for the cows' milk.
We live here with the animals.
If you have a very long ladder, you can switch it on.
Call your future wife, ask her to come and get you.
This evening you'll be sitting on your father-in-law's lap playing his banjo.
Farewell, Tony Roozen.
Hey! Hey, you scoundrel!
Do you have permission to do that? That's church property.
Hey! Hey! Get down from there, now! Get down!
What audacity! - We need the police.
Valère! Where's Valère?
Didn't you hear what the mayor said?
Get down from there. - Did you hear that?
What nerve! Does anyone have a gun? A gun? Then I can shoot him down.
Calm down, Jean-Pierre. He'll fall off in a minute.
Bea. - Oh, you are still alive?
I'm not sure. - What? What aren't you sure about?
Get down from there immediately.
Jean-Pierre, be careful with that gun. What are you doing?
Just come to the Ardennes, because I am really...
Final warning. Get down from there now or I'll shoot.
Please, just come to the Ardennes now.
I'm not asking you twice.
I can't. I can't get away from here.
Come now, or don't bother coming. Please.
I'm going to shoot.
Bea, I... - Tony...
Take it easy! Oh, fuck. Take it easy. I'm coming down, I'm coming down.
Come on, get in there. Go on.
Here's your jacket. It was still on your motor car.
It can get cold here at night.
You might catch something and get ill and then you'll die.
Nice ring.
It was in November, in '17. I just had a few days' leave.
Gusta and I spent three days in each other's arms. Room 7.
She was pregnant then but I had to go back to the front.
To the trenches, in the rain.
It was a Monday. It had been quiet all day. Silent.
And we were in our trenches...
And everyone knew that something had to happen, it was too quiet.
And suddenly, on the dot of nine...
the rats all ran out of their holes at the same time
and I went to see and... it was gas.
Floating towards us like morning mist across the fields.
The yellow death.
The Prussians had bombarded us with mustard gas.
And we didn't have any gas masks, so...
But I was close to the latrines.
The hole full of shit and mud and rotting remains.
I jumped into the latrine.
It was the only way, the only place to flee to.
Gusta had given me a hankie embroidered with roses.
I just had time to tie it over my mouth and then I jumped in.
Until I was desperate for breath and had to come back up.
I wanted to take a breath of air but I couldn't.
It was as if boiling acid was being poured down my throat. It burnt.
Then I sank back down into the latrine again.
And suddenly it was over.
I remember thinking, 'Bloody hell, is that it?'
In my mind I saw Gusta lying there,
with her bulging belly, beautiful. Dammit!
I could look into her belly for a moment.
That baby was lying there peacefully.
It was a little boy.
I thought of Gusta's eyes.
Do you know what the worst thing was?
That I wasn't able to say goodbye.
To say 'thanks'...
'take care' and 'I love you'.
That's how it goes, pal.
SCHOOL DIES = MADONNA DIES REFERENDUM = SWINDLE
Dear parishioners,
does our Madonna's plinth really need to be opened?
Should the secrets we have entrusted to Our Holy Mother for years
just be revealed to everyone?
No one knows, no one knows, how much weight is lifted off my shoulders
knowing that you can tell that statue everything that is bothering you,
so that I have my hands free for the real work of a parish shepherd.
Dear parishioners... Thank you. Good boy.
We are living in a vulnerable community.
And your love and your gentleness should not be disturbed
by the aggressive intervention of an outsider.
We must be on our guard till the very end.
Go on, get out of here. Get out of here.
Marcel. - Hi.
Right, everyone.
Having said this, before we vote, I'm giving the final word to Maria Glorie,
who, in spite of the fact that she calls the referendum a swindle,
has still graced us with her dazzling presence.
Like every speaker, she will get exactly sixty seconds.
Nestor.
I'm not going to repeat myself. The choice is yours.
If one more pupil leaves, there's no longer a legal basis
for keeping the school in Madonna open.
Our school has been here for two hundred years.
I don't expect you to all start having children...
so I can only hope for new inhabitants.
But I also want to fight to protect the battlefields.
Do we still remember how many people died to protect this piece of ground?
Between 8 and 10 million.
Many of whom are still missing.
Your fathers, grandfathers and great-grandfathers are under our feet.
You can hear them, crawling around, breathing, looking for a way out.
It is our duty to them to ensure that there is still a school in Madonna,
and that tons of concrete aren't poured on their grave.
So I think the widening of the old road is a good thing.
And the crossroads being relaid...
I agree, Your Worship, it is absurd.
But what is the problem? - 60 seconds, stop.
Are you so scared of the plinth being removed from the statue of Madonna?
Who here has something to hide?
Hey, 60 seconds is 60 seconds!
We're going to vote. Come on, let's start.
Mr Van Theun, priest.
Mr Huysseune, mayor.
Marcel Goegebeure.
Germaine... Paul Nachtegaele. Berta Nachtegaele.
Melanie Verbrugge. Maria Glorie.
A SOLDIER'S RIPPED-OFF ARM
Well I'll be damned...
Thirty-six.
Thirty-seven.
Thirty-eight.
Thirty-nine.
Forty.
Are we ready, pal? Let's see. Right, thanks, Nestor.
Attention. Your attention, please.
Dear inhabitants of Madonna, democracy has spoken this evening.
Forty valid voting papers have been counted. Here is the result.
Against the widening of the old road
and therefore the unnecessary conversion of the crossroads
into a roundabout: 34 votes.
For: 5 votes. Blank: 1 vote.
The proposal is therefore rejected. Everything stays as it was.
Right. Right, right.
That means we won't agree to Brussels' request
but will submit a proposal to lay a new main road
to Madonna. Well done! - Jerk.
What's the matter, Gusta?
Tony...
Look at you. Where have you been all this time? Eh?
Berta? - What, Pol?
That's your handwriting.
May 1974. Dear Mary, Mother of God...
Dear Madonna, Sometimes I want to strangle my wife...
I've come to confess to you.
I'm carrying Pol Nachtegaele's child but I don't love the man.
Dear Madonna, I am crazy about the village school teacher.
I've had enough of my wife...
I imagine myself at her funeral and I feel happy.
What do I do? Roland Vanwachtebeke.
I don't know how much longer I can put up with her. The mayor.
Is room 7 still free?
No. I'm sleeping there tonight.
But you can join me.
Pol, look. Look.
Oh, Pol...
My good mate Roger De Bakker, who was in the trenches with me in '16,
he told me. He said that, after Ostend, Dinant
is the most beautiful town in the world.
He knew all about it because he rode a motorcycle.
So I suggest that we go to Dinant first
and maybe get a discount on our honeymoon.
And then, if we get that far, there is a waterfall at Coo, apparently.
At least 15 meters high, right out in the country...
We can have a nice photo taken there.
Eh? What do you reckon?