La femme la plus assassinee du monde (2018) Script

Shut down the Grand Guignol Theater, close the theater of shame!

Paula Maxa, the bloody, the immortal Paula...

Are you here to see her?

Who are you talking about? Paula Maxa, the most assassinated woman in the world.

Come be afraid, you won't regret it.

The bloody Paula Maxa...

Thank you.

Eugène de Lancry.

Nice to meet you.

You, like me, like them, you're here for her.

Everything's been put back together.

I don't have a single scar, yet I've been assassinated more than 10000 times onstage.

Beaten, martyred, sliced to bits, vaporized, shoved in a rolling mill, crushed, boiled alive, drained of my blood, burned with acid, impaled, deboned, hung, buried alive, boiled in a stew, eviscerated, drawn and quartered, shot, chopped to pieces, stoned, lacerated, asphyxiated, poisoned, burned alive, eaten by a lion, crucified, scalped, strangled, had my throat slit, drowned, pulverized, stabbed, shot and raped.

Every part of my body has been cut up, planed, trimmed, demolished.

But as you can see, despite all that, I stand before you now.

I am Paula Maxa.


Open the doors!

Blood! Paula Maxa!

Ladies and gentlemen,

thank you for coming to the Grand Guignol Theater.

Come in. Come in and sit down.

Go home!

I know you. You're the Comte de Reinach's son.

Don't go in there young man, or I'll tell your parents.

Nothing. Don't worry, she must be crazy.

I'll tell your parents! Shame on you!

The scum of the earth is in that theater!

MURDER IN THE MADHOUSE You're about to see a captivating show.

Like the actors, we're all occasionally possessed.

Alfred Binet.

Well now, you know Alfred Binet.

I'm a reporter I did a little research.

A reporter you say?

Are you among those fighting to close this theater, who believe all the rumors of murder and ritual sacrifice?

I'm not paid to have an opinion.

You seem different, young man.

May I go ahead of you?

Enjoy the show!

This evening, ladies and gentlemen, the director of Grand Guignol Theater presents "Murder in the Madhouse", by our Prince of Terror, André de Lorde, and the wise and no less diabolical doctor Alfred Binet!

Do you hear the sound of the night that surrounds us?

This evening, you're going to experience true horror.

Your bones will tremble, and the weakest hearts will fail.

But don't worry, our doctor is here to revive you if necessary.

Even if lately he's been the first one to faint.



What's this?

He passed out already?

But the show hasn't even started.

I can't believe my eyes!

You're all very brave.

The devil be praised, here they are.

Above all, don't hesitate to use the buckets.

That's what they're there for.


Where am I?

What's happening to me?

Why am I trapped in this dismal place?

What is that noise?

Who's complaining?

Look out, Maxa! Behind you!

Still sniveling?

You better learn fast, no one can help you here.

But where am I?

In the asylum, honey.

Let me out.

I'm not crazy.

You're quite presumptuous, everyone's crazy in here!

Who are you?

Don't you recognize me?

I'm the one-eyed woman.

Does my face disgust you?

You're indeed a very beautiful young woman.

Perhaps the most beautiful we've ever had here.

Surely, you'll be the doctor's favorite.

The doctor?

What doctor?

Patience, you'll meet him soon enough.

I'll explain this is a mistake and he'll help me.

Doctors help people.

I don't have anything to fear.

Of course, sweetheart.

Here, the doctor makes women like you very happy.

That's what he'll have you believe.

Enough talking.

We have to get her ready.

No! Leave me alone.

I don't belong here. I want to see my husband.

But your husband brought you here.

He must want to get rid of you.

Believe me, you wouldn't be the first.

Don't move, there's nothing you can do.

If you don't stop fighting, we'll have to do this the hard way.

There must be a mistake...

No one ends up here by mistake, believe me.

My own children brought me here.

Damn them!

You're much too beautiful, let's see if we can fix this pretty face.

Look at us now, if you can.


What do you say?

More! More blood!

You're much less beautiful.

You should thank us.

I said, you should thank us.

I said, you should thank us!

Thank you.

She's too ugly now.

The doctor's going to be disappointed.

Good evening, darlings!

Oh sorry doctor, she wouldn't go along with it.

What have you done! You're jealous.

Help, doctor! Help me!

You really did a number on her.

So be it. Let's finish the job.

I don't need her head without her eye.

We'll need you-know-who.

Oh yes!

No! I'm begging you!

I'm begging you, doctor!


What's happening? I can't see anything.

Don't stop.

She's going to die soon.


The shrinking machine! No!

You sure do like theater.

Her head might still be useful, Doctor... separately, I mean.


This is a horrible mistake...


This blood is disgusting.

André, you told us you were going to put more sugar in the blood.

Sugar is expensive these days, princess.

We have to do something about the smell.

It tastes revolting.

It's awful! Taste it.

It's the best blood in the history of theater.

Go change. You're back on in five minutes.

Where's Paul?

The song was good tonight.

Have you seen Paul? Here I am.

Where did you go?

I was working.

You were daydreaming.

There's not enough pressure.

I told you, it has to spurt even further.

I want it all over their faces.

The stage needs cleaning.

What about me?


Change costumes, get dressed.

On stage in five minutes. Curtain in five minutes.

There you go.

Thanks, Paul.

Thanks for the velvet under the table. It's wonderful.


Here. Thanks.

Why did you forget your line?

You've done it a hundred times.

You're the one with the problem.

Without Paul, without me, without the others, you'd be nothing, you or your theater.

This theater is full every night thanks to my shows.

They made you a queen!

So show me some respect!

So, you want more blood, more hemoglobin, more grit, it has to bleed, it has to gush, it has to spurt?

While you're waiting, we'd like to propose a light-hearted interlude with a delicious little sketch by our friend Georges Courteline:

"Lawn bowling"!

Mr. De Lorde?

Mr. De Lorde? Silence, we're live.

Jean Charpentier, from Le Petit Journal.

Le Petit Journal?

You don't look like a critic.

They tend to be ugly and badly dressed.

News. Okay, I understand.

What do you think I should write about the fanatics who want to close this theater?

That they're idiots.

What's your name, beautiful?

My name is Félicie, and you?

Holy cow! Oh no!

It's an old trick. They relax to a bit of light comedy and then we knock them out with what they came for.

It's called a Scottish shower.

In Saint-Casimir near Amboise, we had a neighbor...

Look at them laugh. In ten minutes, they'll be scared stiff.

Many say the theater's days are numbered because of cinema.

Have you been to the cinema?

I've been to the cinema. So what?

You were in the room.

Did you smell the blood?

We can do things cinema will never be able to do.

People live out nightmares here. That's what they want.

They want to feel horror in real life.

They don't want to dream.

We'll still be around a thousand years from now.

I doubt it, but I hope so for your sake.

Let me remind you that backstage entrance is prohibited to anyone outside the troupe.

But the exit is entirely open.

It's this way. I'll show you out.

You're not just a pretty face, are you?

You're a smarty-pants.


Paula onstage, please.

Open up!

Let us in!

Sir, are you aware of the scandalous activities that go on in this pigsty?

Good evening, Sylviane.

Good evening. What are you referring to?

These madmen who organize satanic orgies in cemeteries, at night, with prostitutes.

Big strumpets.

Sylviane, her name is Sylviane, which doesn't help at all, is referring to our little jaunts to the Montmartre Cemetery where we sometimes take our audience for VIP evenings.

I think what goes on in your head is much worse than what goes on in my theater.

My theater is a cure, not an illness.

Young man, help us.

Sign this petition in favor of closing this den of debauchery and madness.

Help us save our families, our city, our neighborhoods, our country...


I'm sure there are thousands of ways to save France.

But I don't see how closing a theater will help.

Go ahead and laugh.

I see the high society leave your theater covered in blood.

Someday, a horrible tragedy will happen and you'll be the only one crying.

We're going to have you all arrested, you know it!

I think they're real heads.

The days of carefree depravity are over.

France is in crisis. No more laughing.

Regardless what you think, we're the resistance.

Audiences thirsty for blood who wander at night to commit actual crimes, it could happen, couldn't it?

If that was true, there would be a massacre every time Macbeth is set at the Comédie Française.

You're not worried about Paula Maxa?

There are people who stand outside the theater just to hear her scream, so...

One more reason.

The interview is over.

Good night Mr. Reporter.

Deliver the boards to the theatre.

Thanks, goodbye.

Are you looking for me, kid?

I'm looking for the exit.

You're looking for Maxa.

She's dead, didn't you see?

End of the hall, darling.

Give her this, will you?

Another admirer.

Christ, that wouldn't happen to me.

Here, here, fresh meat!

I wasn't at my best tonight.

I nearly gouged out Maxa's eye for real.

You got my hand for sure.

Good evening.

This is for you.

Thank you.

They're not from me. An actress gave them to me on behalf of one of your admirers.

You can put them in the trash.

You don't like lilacs?

I don't like unsolicited gifts.

What do you want?

I'm Jean Charpentier, from Le Petit Journal.

You don't look like a reporter.

I'll take that as a compliment.

I'm writing an article on...

Terror at Grand Guignol.

Screams, deaths, killers wandering the streets of Paris?

All these poor innocent people disturbed by Grand Guignol's show.

Something like that? Yes, actually.

May I sit? No...


Thank you.

Welcome to Grand Guignol, where everything is fake.

I'm going to sit over here.

Not there either. That's my bed.

I'll stand then.

Everyone in the audience, what are they looking for?

It's fascinating.

Alfred Binet said that fear is to the mind what pain is to the body.

Some people like to suffer, others like to be scared.

And you?

I like both.

No, I mean why do you do it?

Why does an actress act? That's quite a question.

Do you like being tortured night after night?

I usually prefer to get dressed alone.

Excuse me.

You and your readers are going to be disappointed.


There are no monsters here.

Positions for the Naked Man! Paula Maxa...


Is something wrong?

You're not at all the woman I imagined you'd be.

Too happy for a victim?

I do drama like others do business.

If you'd like to continue this conversation, I'm sure a good reporter like you knows how to find me after the show.

Marie Thérèse and Jean 1913.

I love watching you die, again and again. Soon I'll kill you.


Shall we swim, Jean?

Come on, let's swim!

I'll call the commissioner tomorrow. Exactly.

Thank you.

Give me that.

That one... No.

The boss is looking for you.

You should see a doctor.

Jean? In the boss's office, please.



Mr. Dupuis.

Jean, my boy...

How's our story coming?

I'm working on it.

Do you need anything from me?

Like what?

A kick in the ass, for example?

You were right, I think we're on to something with the Grand Guignol Theater.

It's a fascinating place, full of bizarre people, enigmatic, even.

Jean my boy, I'm not paying you to be the next Proust.

I sent you because I'm convinced this theater is where the city's potential killers hang out.

That's what our readers are waiting for and you need to get used to this idea.

That's what I mean. I'm interested in the people.

No one cares about the people.

What is this theater?

Maniacs playing maniacs who kill maniacs, in front of maniacs!

So Jean, my boy, find me a connection and write me an article along those lines.

Use your imagination!

"The theater of horror in the heart of horror!"

That's a front page.

Where am I?

What's happening to me?

Why am I trapped in this dismal place?

What's that noise?

Who's complaining?

Paula Maxa is lying on stage,

the door opens, and a vile shrew appears.

She's ugly!

Her face completely burned, from when she was held down on a woodstove...

Paula: "Where am I?"

The shrew:

"You're in the asylum, darling."

Hey, it's our little reporter!

Sorry, but you're not at all her type.

I'm not sure she's mine. Good evening.

Don't look at me like that.

Hello. Hello.

Shall we dance? No.

My name is Julie, remember me? Yes.

The crazy one. I remember very well.

Want to buy me a drink while I tell you my life story?

No thank you.

This is for you.

I didn't order anything.

The lady over there did.

It's a Poison... The cocktail.

Shall we dance?

Maybe later.

Be careful, kid.

She shoots them all down.

All of them.

Even André.

Especially André.

Men have hung themselves for her.

I feel sorry for them.

Goodnight. Goodnight.

Thanks for the drink. Hello.

You're not that hard to find after all.

The invitation was for yesterday.

Did you at least watch the show again tonight?


Paula Maxa isn't so interesting after all?

Oh! Quiet!

To answer your question... What question?

Dying onstage keeps me alive.

I'm not sure I understand.

I love theater, don't you?

Yes, though I admit I prefer the shows on the Grands Boulevards.


Can you imagine me in an evening gown, playing a rich lady betrayed by her husband?

Or who falls in love with a young actor in a nice suit?

No, thank you.

Who wants to be murdered every evening?

Frightening people is as interesting as making them laugh or cry.

Sure, except the neighborhood is turning into an open-air Grand Guignol.

Killing Paula Maxa would be quite the trophy for a killer, don't you think?


You think I should quit?

I don't know.

You could do cinema, for example.

Tomorrow they're showing a color film, with blood.

We could go together.

For your article?




The world is going mad, André.

You should be happy.

Playing with Paula's mental health...

That's going too far.

I want to go as far as possible.

Music, sound effects, lights, script...

It has to put her into a trance.

Can't you see that what we're doing here goes against the ethics of my profession?

Which one?

Psychiatrist or successful author?

Stop taking everything lightly.

I don't understand why you're so set on taking such a risk.

What risk?

I want to push the limits of the live show.

People want blood, sperm and sweat. And I'm here to give it to them.

You just don't want her to leave.

So what?

You're the only one who knows how her mind works.

I need you in order to control her.

You're taking a big risk in making her relive this trauma.

It could even kill her.

So be it!




Remember when we walked along the water?

Mother made you sing a lament,

she said you had a nice voice.

Why did you abandon me, Paula?


I didn't abandon you Aimée.

What are you looking at?

Who's there?



Why is there so much blood?

People come here to see blood.

They like to see its color, to smell it.

They like to see it trickle down your skin.

You're going to drive me crazy!

You don't need anyone to make you a madwoman!

That's why you're the best.

Rehearsal starts in ten minutes!




That hurts!

I'm disappointed.

I thought you were tougher.

Do you have to push that hard?

I asked him to. It has to look real.

Give it to me. Don't leave your props lying around.

Come here.

That's exactly what I'm after.


Yes, grab her, hit her and make her bleed.

I understand. Pay attention to the rhythm.

The audience has to stay focused on her.

Yes, I understand.

Don't worry, we have to rehearse a little more, but it'll be fine.

Do you see her?

Do you see Aimée?


You're lucky to see people you love.

I see you.

I need you, Paul.

I want...

to make a change after this show.

I've killed you thousands of time, you can trust me.

Have you seen Paula? What do you want with her?

You want to see an article on Corsicans in Pigalle?

She's off tonight, but she'll come for the show.

Thank you.

You could try knocking.

This theater belongs to me.

I need to trust you and Paul, but you don't seem focused.

Don't worry, I think I'll manage.

It's my life after all. It's your life and I'm going to make it a success.

We've had more success since those murders made the headlines.

Doesn't that worry you?

That reporter said that. What does he want?


He's only interested in movies.

My God, what bad taste!

Give him what he wants and he'll give us cheap publicity.

We need it.

That madwoman Sylviane has connections.

We need our own.

Then we'll go back to normal, you and I.

How much do I get?

I'll take that as a yes.

Come in.

I have your new dress. It came this morning.

Put it over there.

Can I keep the ribbon?

Of course.

Thank you.

That's the end. I'll kill you. One last time! J.

How are you Doumé?

Order whatever you like.

Two cognacs, please.

André wants my hide.


More than you know.

Of me?

Don't be cocky.

Thank you.

What's going on?

I don't like jealous people.


tonight, we're going to the movies.


I really need to sleep.

You got what you wanted.

It's time to leave.

Her scream is unique.

One of the most beautiful in the history of theater.

She owes us, you know.

Business is business.

I give you the corpses, and you give me that.

You know what, I don't like that.

What do you mean?

I want her, I want Paula.

We'll talk about it later.

Hurry, the movie's started.

Wait, give me a second.

It's no Grand Guignol.

Did you see that? It's Paula Maxa.

You know who I am, don't you?

You have a dark heart. Leave! Leave me here!

I came for what is mine.

God will protect me.

What do you want?

I want what's mine.

I want to live again.

I want your heart.


You shall die and I shall live!

Wouldn't Hollywood be a dream?

You wouldn't have to do the same thing everyday.

You'd be surrounded by assistants, make-up artists, hairdressers...

You'd have a driver... you'd live on the beach and wake up to the Pacific Ocean.

I don't know if you're a good reporter but you're a good salesman.

I'm being honest.

I've always dreamed... Why do you make things hard?

You can't just try to sleep with me like the others?

"Slept with Paula Maxa." That would look good on your list.

You'd tell everyone how you made the Queen of Terror scream with pleasure.

Your colleagues would be jealous and it would be good for your ego.

They'd toast to Jean, the best lay in Paris.

After what I've just been though, that's not exactly what I want.

It's perfect.

Your blood is getting better and better.

Nothing beats experimentation.

What are you doing with handcuffs?


Nothing at all.

What is it?

I'm proud of what you do for this theater.

The finale has to be a success.

You're the only one who can do it.

It's easy.

It's like bleeding a pig, as you say.

It will be my masterpiece.

Paula's going to leave us, I can feel it.

Trust me, she'll try her luck elsewhere.

You think so? You're so naive.

She doesn't care about us.

In any case, she can't leave.

I'm going to put this in the cold room.

I told him to put it away.

I had an affair with a married woman.

Aggressive creature.

She's married to a dangerous man.

He surprised us.

In bed? In the bathtub.

In the bathtub?

He shot you in the bath? No, in the woods the next day at dawn.

You had a duel?

He shot first.

You're as crazy as I am.

I could have killed him, but I didn't.

I think he hates me even more now.

And her?

Do you love her?


And you, Marie-Thérèse?

What's this story you've been hiding?

You'll like this.

My sister fled my parents' house.

Fled what?

My parents.

She wanted to do theater, maybe even act in movies.

My father hated that.

We met in secret.

A friend of my parents started courting me at the time.

His name was Jean, like yours.

He had a limp.

He'd had polio as a child.

One day, he offered to take Aimée and me to the seaside in his new car.

He lost it in the dunes.

He wanted to rape me.

I fought back,

so he beat me until I lost consciousness.

He turned on Aimée.

He raped her too,

then he left her there, in agony, her throat slit like an animal.

I couldn't do anything to save her.

What could you have done?


He committed suicide just before the police came to arrest him.

But sometimes I...

hear the metallic click of his shoes.

It's an awful sound.

You know, I'm afraid too.

I like kissing lips that are afraid.



Help me, please!

Find me everything you can on Marie-Thérèse Beau and her sister Aimée Beau, who should be dead.

What's going on?

Just do what I say. It's important.

The blood isn't flowing in time.

I'm working on it, Paula.

It's important. I know.

Paul, you're the best.

But if you aren't able to do it, all is lost.

I'm aware, Paula.

I'm aware...

Violette, you know the rules.

I don't take girls who work for cigarettes.

Come on Doumé, it's raining and I have a date.

I'll take care of you next time.

If you want to work for us, you have to tell me.

I was told to wait here.

You have ten minutes to take him to your place or his.

Are you my date?

If you answer to the name Violette, then you're my date.

That's me.

You can buy me a drink while we wait.

You're a butcher.

Excuse me?

I'm never wrong about a set of hands.

I've seen quite a few!

You're wrong. I'm a doctor.


That's surprising. I'm never wrong.

What did you do to these hands?


I like your hands.

They belong to a real man.

I like your eyes.

They remind me of someone.

Do you like candy?

You're weird.

I see you like weird.


I'm coming down.

Short reckonings make long friends.

That's not nice.

I got that information on Marie-Thérèse Beau.

Born in Paris...

I think you're aware she's known by her stage name, Paula Maxa.

Twenty years ago, her sister Aimée had her throat cut by one Jean De Lancry.

Your knife is perfect.

I want to go on stage with it.

This one really looks like Paula.


They're violet flavored.

She's yours now.

I don't want to know what you're going to do with her.

Alexandre, I've been going over the theater's accounts with the boss, can we talk about them?


I have a date.

You, like me, like them, are here for her.

Good evening.

Paula Maxa, the most assassinated woman in the world.

Eugène de Lancry.

Nice to meet you.


At last! My article.

Even better. I promised you the front page and you got it.

"The queen of terror at the heart of terror.

"Paula Maxa, the most assassinated woman in the world." Wonderful!

I know who the Montmartre killer is, but you're going to have to pay.

I asked you for two tickets to Los Angeles and three months' salary.

Two tickets?

She really wanted you, you little bugger.

And I thought you were incompetent.

Has the lady agreed to have you write her story?

No, but we both need to get out of here.

Your tickets and money are waiting in accounting.

Thank you. Jean...

Paula Maxa is everywhere.

Check out today's front page.

Nice headline, isn't it?

TONIGHT PAULA MAXA PLAYS FOR HER LIFE Grand Guignol Theater, Chaptal Alley, please.

I have the press list.

They're all here.

Let me see.

For once, I'll have them eating from my hand.

Reporters, the audience, money!

Where's that reporter going?

I've come for Paula. She's in danger here.

You're all responsible.

You think you can take her from us? Dream on.

Paula belongs to this theater, to this troupe, to me.

Take it easy!

Let me go!

Come on.



Don't ever come back.

André might ask me to kill you next time.

Paula wants to leave. You can't stop her.

What are you talking about?

You don't know anything about her.

I know everything, you poor fool.

Get out of here before I kill you with my own two hands.

You should have killed me when you had the chance.

I won't miss.


I'll be right there.

Did you see that reporter, Jean?


He got what he wanted for his article. You won't see him again.

Men are like that, Paula.

Down with prostitution!

These are Grand Guignol's last days!

Visitors to the theater of the strange, the bizarre and the horrible!

Welcome, to the Comédie Française of Montmartre!

Are you ready for the greatest show of terror the world has ever known?

Then come in, ladies and gents!

Come in!


Come in. Everything is ready.

I have a few things to adjust.

Did you bring the product I gave you?

I've got stage fright.

Thank you, Paul.


This is a nice knife.

Yes, very.

It's full.

Like every night!

But press your ear to the theater wall if you want to hear her scream!



You're not swimming?

I don't feel like it.

Would you like some wine?

Yes, please.

Do you remember, Marie-Thérèse? When we were kids, everyone listened to us sing at Christmas.

I remember.

Mother said I had a pretty voice.

You have so many things to discover, Aimée.

You're not too tired from driving, Jean?


Do you need anything?

It's nice out, it's a lovely day.

What a good idea to take us to the seaside in your new car.

I talked about it enough, didn't I?

I always keep my promises.

My brother built this car just for me.

That was nice of him.

Young lady...

Let's take a walk on the beach.

Why not?

I'm going to enjoy the sun.

Where is Jean?

Look out behind you!


Jean, what's wrong with you?

Why are you looking at me like that?

Stop, Jean!

Such beautiful hair...

Smells like sun.



Run, Marie-Thérèse!

Run! Go get help!

There he is!

Run, Maxa!

Help me! No!

Help me!

Look out!

Jean, no!

Jean, no!

He's going to kill you!


Why, Jean?



Marie-Thérèse, help me!

Not that.

As promised, Marie-Thérèse.



Wonderful. I really believed it.


I told you she was incredible.

Really looks like real blood.

It is real blood!

It's real blood!

What's going on?

Get the paramedics, please.

Call an ambulance!

What happened?

It's a real blade.

Isn't that what you wanted?

Don't look at me, I'm not a doctor.

Let me through.

Help me get her to my laboratory.

Have the police been called?

She's dead.

This is your fault Paul! You're responsible for this.

Calm down. Now is not the time.


Get the paramedics.

I checked the knife myself. I don't understand.

You're a doctor. Sign the death certificate.

The police might request an autopsy.

It's an accident. A horrible accident.

I told you it would end badly.

And it did.

It was a masterpiece.

This way.

Hurry up, boys.


What do we tell the press?

That she's a magnificent dead.

It was me, officers.

Come on, move it.



Everything's been put back together.

I have no scars, yet I've been assassinated more than 10000 times onstage.

But as you can see, despite all that, I stand before you now.

My name is Paula Maxa.

I'm the most assassinated woman in the world.

My real name is Marie-Thérèse Beau, and I'm not dead yet.

Paula, are you coming?

Hurry, the plane's going to leave and everyone is looking for me.

Are you coming, Jean?

Are you my date?

My name is Violette.

Here lies Marie-Thérèse Beau, known as Paula Maxa.

"She won't die anymore."

You're weird.

I see you like weird.

Grand Guignol actress Paula Maxa, born Marie-Thérèse Beau, died once on September 23, 1970. She ended her career at Grand Guignol.

With no family or friends, she was buried in a public grave.

Paul Ratineau was one of Paris' best special effects artists and ended his career at Grand Guignol.

His fake blood is still used in theaters.

I miss you Paula.

I miss you, my life is meaningless now that you're dead.


Paula. Is that you?

No, sir, you must be mistaken, but we could work something out.


Too bad. I would have liked that.


Subtitles: Kate Robinson