Another?
No, thank you.
A coffee, please.
I'm married.
Mr. Benjamin.
Police! Come on!
Your papers!
What is going on?
- And you are the hotel director? - No. Varian Fry.
Director of the American Emergency Rescue Committee.
- Mr. Benjamin, please get dressed. - What is going on?
Quick. The police are here.
- Please. - Okay.
Police! Open the door!
Open the door! Police!
Open the door!
I can't go on.
I'm not finished with my book. I need to write.
Mr. Benjamin, your ideas are in here!
And your life is worth more than one damn manuscript. Understand?
Yes.
Come on.
- Wait. I can't see anything. - Silence!
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
Thanks.
Come with me.
Here and here.
What is this place?
You're dreaming, Max.
I dreamt I was a suitcase.
Actually, that wasn't a dream. That really happened.
Hug the dull, prickly thorns are below.
In his slippers, a snail has lost his armor,
but he has found a mailbox.
The rain falls upside down.
It is blown by the currents, like ribbons.
The gray-black clouds are reflected on the skin of the sardines.
Swindled, under the influence of their lumbar pains!
You okay?
Are you okay?
- Did they hurt you? - No.
Not quite.
No, thank you. All good. Sit down.
Brother, you didn't show him the best part.
Thank you!
A few years ago, we traveled the length of the Riviera by rail.
First class. My law firm was doing excellent business.
I felt like I was on top of the world. Who knew everything could fall so far?
Not me.
I was offered a job in Palestine in 1933,
but I turned it down. I didn't want to live in the desert.
Maybe I made the wrong decision.
So many wrong decisions led us all to this moment.
Wrong decisions,
misconstrued as a narrative of progress!
I try not to look back.
But I can only look back.
As long as you walk forward!
As we move forward, we all leave piles of rubble.
Nothing more.
History
is the wind blowing us forward, turning everything in its path to rubble.
Come on.
Let me help you.
Thank you!
If you keep up like this, we won't make it across before dawn.
I am sorry. I can't go any faster.
Then we should turn back.
All the way back to Banyuls?
There is a stone house we can sleep in.
We passed it a little while back. It's not far.
I can't go back to that house. I'd rather stay the night here.
Here?
Right here.
We'll pick you up at dawn.
Good night.
Mr. Benjamin.
Mr. Benjamin?
Mr. Benjamin!
What is going on?
I took some morphine
to help me sleep.
You shouldn't mess around with that stuff.
Don't worry. I know exactly what I'm doing.
Good morning.
So...
let's go.
Mr. Benjamin...
Transit visas, please.
Something's wrong.
Stay calm.
Mr. Benjamin.
My manuscript...
has to make it to America.
Remember my briefcase, will you?
You will carry that briefcase to America yourself, Mr. Benjamin.
With or without me.
Promise me?
I promise.
- Are you sure it isn't a trap? - The Spanish are letting us go.
We have to get on the train before they change their minds.
Where's Mr. Benjamin?
Mr. Benjamin!
Wake up! They are letting us go.
Mr. Benjamin, wake up!
In a situation presenting no way out,
I have no other choice but to make an end of it.
Damn it!
My life will come to a close
in a small village in the Pyrenees, where no one knows who I am.
Lisa, our train.
You're right.
Thank you.