Mars et Avril (2012) Script

In the 17th century, German astronomer Kepler introduces his cosmological model The Harmony of the World.

Almost blind from observing the Sun, he reaches out to the cosmos and calls for music.

According to Kepler, the harmony of the universe is determined by the motion of celestial bodies.

For instance, Mercury corresponds to an octave plus a third.

Venus endlessly repeats the same note.

The Earth is just a semi-tone.

Mars produces a fifth.

Jupiter wanders down a low third... and so does Saturn.

But more than the others, it is the Red Planet that nurtures Kepler's dreams, and sings to him the secrets of the universe.


Dear 3DViewers, tonight we will witness the takeoff of the first human convoy leaving from the Moon to Mars!

Please welcome the three Marsonautes taking part in this ambitious journey that will confirm whether Man is capable, as Jean Cocteau hoped, of dreaming beyond the Moon!

We haven't even discovered Earth yet.

They are moving too fast.

Dear 3DViewers, I'm being told that the countdown will begin:

Five, four, three, two, one...

From all of us on planet Earth, we wish you gentlemen a safe trip!

You're a lucky man. All these women at your feet.

It's your music:

So sensuous, energetic and sophisticated!

Please tell me how you get all these women fired up!?

You'd make an excellent model for a musical instrument.

Me? A model? Yes.

But Jacob Obus doesn't speak to models.

Why didn't you pick an attractive woman instead?

But what does attractive mean?

I'm more interested in the way a woman sounds.

It must be hard for you to always live in Eugene Spaak's shadow?

I'm the one who designs the instruments.

But he's the one who makes them!

Your father is one of the millennium's greatest geniuses.

Without him, Jacob Obus wouldn't be able to play music.

Anyway, I would find it hard if I were you.

An instrument doesn't just pop up out of nowhere.

It takes a vision, a concept, sketches, and then a plan.

A drawing doesn't make music.

And a model doesn't speak!

Like all major archetypes, Mars has an ambivalent nature.

Sometimes she is love, sometimes death.

At times, she is life, at other times, war.

She is both dream and nightmare.

Kepler viewed planet Mars as a musical instrument.

Had he been reincarnated at the beginning of our third millennium, the astronomer would have been astonished by the images of the Red Planet transmitted by satellite.

Images captured by a 3Delescope reveal that the Martian topography perfectly matches the shape of a musical instrument.

That is ridiculous!

Kepler said: "The creator of the universe is not only a surveyor, he is also a musician."

Because no matter how precise and complex the mechanism may be, it also comes with its own share of madness.

Thanks to his cosmological model, Kepler proves that the reality we observe solely depends on the observer.

Reality and dreams can constantly be mistaken for one another.

Based on Kepler's theory and on my own observations, my hypothesis is the following:

The planet Mars does not exist!

It is a construction of the mind, a fantasy among many others.

It is completely subjective.

So, um, Marsonautes... are holograms, like you?

You're not worthy of the Order of the Cosmologists after all.

Why don't you just stick to your musical instruments!

Eugene? Where are you?


It's the basis for my new project.

And what would that be?

The camera films an image that is played back to it in a loop by the projector.

It's called feedback. Like in music?

And like the universe!

Through feedback, the machine shows that infinity is one continuous loop.

I don't understand your theories, my immortal friend.

Sometimes I miss the days when you were real.

As usual, Arthur's drawing didn't account for the technical challenges.

I welded the breech, but the valve is still gaping.

I tried to lift the pallets to lower the pressure in the sound box, but I might have hit a heartstring.

It still sounds too low.

That's normal. The instrument always ends up resembling its model.

Don't you need more light?

I'm trying to photograph the music, so I need a longer exposure.

It's an old camera.

He's an old musician.

It takes an old medium to appreciate a new language.

A low range...

Abundant musical curves...

A full-figured woman.

Excuse me?

A rather curvy woman was the model for Jacob's instrument.

I named it the "lowphone."

You're Eugene Spaak's son, right?

Arthur. I'm April.

Would a photographer make a good model?

I would finally get to meet Jacob Obus!

No, no, no. Unfortunately, that's forbidden.

Jacob's decision.

I'll serve as a model, but on one condition.

April, is it my face that you're framing?

Yes, just your face.

Could you please tell me why I'm naked?

Is this something you do a lot?

No, but I have no inspiration right now.

So I'm focusing on important themes:

Life, death, time, space, nothingness.

The idea is to photograph a whole monologue.

The theme of my research is vacuum.

It's beautiful.

Keep talking, you mustn't stop.

It's true that being naked, for no obvious reason, in front of a woman I barely know but am... incredibly attracted to...

makes for a good monologue.

The experience works better if you're alone.


My name is Arthur Spaak. I'm 35 years old.

I'm single, no kids. I'll never have kids.

I design musical instruments for Jacob Obus.

I can breathe so much better now!

Do I know you?

I spend long nights with you in the darkroom.

My name is April and I won't leave until you agree to have a drink with me!

I'm not very hairy, I know.

It's genetic. I get it from my father.

Not that my mother was hairy.

Anyway, we are what we are.

How does it feel to be floating in space?

You must feel incredibly small in the infinite cosmic void.

We try not to look at infinity.

You are short of breath.

I can hear it.

It's not the only part of me that's defective.

One of the many goals of your journey is to reconnect with the founding origins of life.

Well, I guess we are the return of life on Mars.

Right. But how far can man go in the Martian desert without women?

Why are there no women in your convoy?

Welcome to The Greenhouse Effect.

You must be thirsty! Always!

A Dry Fueltini, please. Sure!

I'll have an Antifreeze, please.

Things are about to get explosive!

I'm not sure why, but when I look at you, I see a young man.

Probably because of your music.

Music is the only way I know to help me breathe... and to put time on hold.

That's what I love about your music:

It starts off slow, then it accelerates.

Just like time. Just like love.

An Antifreeze for you, madam.

A Dry Fueltini for you, sir.

You must meet so many women.

You must be picky. You're probably thinking:

"Another one trying to sleep with me.

Another one who thinks I'm going to fall in love with her."

Tell me about your most beautiful experience.

The last show on our first tour.

We weren't very famous at the time.

The venue was loud, but the first note silenced everyone.

The sound was pure, intoxicating.

I meant your most beautiful sexual experience.

Would you model for me?

I'm a photographer.

Eugene became virtual because he was afraid of aging.

But for me, it's like he's already dead.

He thinks I'm jealous of him... poor thing.

He's the one that's jealous. I have all the ideas!

Jealous of his own son...

Can you believe it?

Good thing I'm photographing you in black and white, otherwise, I would need to tone down the red on the prints.


I can't breathe the way I used to. I'm feeling old.

Carry on.

I feel like I'm suspended in the air.

You are a jazzman in your 70s...

Your sex life is the envy of any man, like myself, in the midst of a midlife crisis.

It's a musician's paycheck.

Seriously, you've been running after your youth for too long, Mr. Obus.

April is an odd name.

I was supposed to be born in April, but my mother gave birth in March.

She says that's why I have a breathing problem.

A Martian.

I look forward to hearing what it will sound like.

I'm just looking forward to having Jacob Obus run his fingers down my body.

You mean down the instrument inspired by your body.

He's an intriguing man.

He's a man whose career is based on the art of intriguing.

I've been treating you for years.

Your soul and body should not keep secrets from me.

Well, last night, I had a strange experience.

Hard to explain.

I'm attracted to him. Of course.

Jacob Obus is a living myth!

Are you jealous? No.

Jealousy is when you envy someone. I envy no one.

You look beautiful in the shadows.

Incredible! You had a dream!

Did you happen to meet someone recently?

Yes, a young woman.

But what does that have to do with it?

Listen to your dreams, you just might find an answer.

Dreams are the gateway to all that is possible.

Is that you, Jacob?

Lucky you! No one else has seen the plan for the "marsophone."

This may be my best work to date.


What are you doing here?

Don't you have a conference to attend?

Some people do research on more interesting things than instruments.

What is your latest whim? The planet Mars!

Just what I needed. My father wants to become a Marsonaute.

Not at all! Absolutely not!

I prefer to inform rather than misinform.

Why don't you come and work with me on my new project?

I can't leave Jacob.

I have to protect him.

What would he do without me?

And what would I do without him?

You must think of what comes next.

And I need an assistant.

I know nothing about experimental cosmology and even less about virtual reality.

You could go back to university to improve your knowledge.

It's not too late. You're still a baby!

I know this drawing very well.

I received the same signal.

Signal? I never received any signal!

Poor man, you're talking like an alien again!

Show a little humility, Arthur!

Ideas don't belong to you. They belong to the universe.

Your role is simply to translate them.

How many times must I tell you?

There, I'm done.

You can now "translate" my drawing into an instrument.

I don't need your drawing.

I've almost finished this instrument.

What do you mean?

I told you, I received this signal long before you did.

What do you want me to talk about?

The theme of my research is vacuum.

But I must warn you, the negative only captures the truth.

Right. Well...

My name is Jacob Obus.

I'm a musician.

I'm 75 years old.

And I...

I've never made love.

Therefore, I'm an impostor.

My only real accomplishment will have been my contribution to the research on vacuum done by a beautiful young photographer.

That's it.

But your music, Jacob.

What do you talk about in your music?

Your shuttle is almost moving as fast as the speed of light.

However, relativistic speed means that time is slowing down, and therefore, so is aging.

Humanity's biggest problem is that everything is relative.

I know, I'm late. Sorry.

I might be behind the times, but I'm a few minutes ahead of technology.

I closed my eyes...

And for the first time in a long while, I've escaped reality.

One's brain needs to dream in order to reboot.

In my head, I saw some images!

Mars beer.

Red Fantasy.

Spring is just around the corner.

And so is love.

Is it really?

I'm positive, Jacob.

She's the one for me. We complement each other.

She tries to capture reality, and I try to translate it.

Another instrument coming up, I suppose?

Not just any instrument. I can't wait for you to play it.

You'll see, she has perfect breasts that defy gravity.

Jacob? Jacob?

The Marsonautes.

The dream! I'd like to hear what our pneumatologist has to say about that.

The Marsonautes will soon be entering the complete unknown.

How will they be able to distinguish dream from reality?


Jacob, you're not listening to me!

You're going to have to get older at some point.

Talk to women, fall in love!

When was the last time you got laid?

I met someone too.


What is she like?

She's honest. She has soulful eyes.

She gets short of breath, but she has a lot of spirit.

And she likes my music.

April and I also complement each other, you know.

In my dreams, I breathe for her.

What is it?


April is an odd name, that's all.

Good timing. I was just developing your photo.

It's dark.

The image is clear on the negative though.

Too much information?

Or too little.

It works well with Jacob.

When I have trouble breathing, I come here to look at him.

I think it's best if you just stick to his image, and vice-versa.

I'm sorry.

At first, I wanted to use you to get close to Jacob.

And now?

I don't know.

I've never felt this way before.

Too much attraction.

I'm attracted to two magnets at the same time.

But you don't know Jacob.

You're attracted to his image.

Mystery keeps the myth alive.

So that's why models can't speak to Jacob?

To keep the myth alive?

Jacob loves music, I love women.

- Hello? Jacob? It's Arthur.


Listen, I've been thinking.

The woman you told me about, you should only talk to her in your dreams.

I told her we'd see each other again.

No, you can't.

You have to forget about her. But you told me I should...

Don't let her near you.

Trust me on this one.

Which woman were you talking about?

A model that talks to Jacob even though she knows it's forbidden.

It's unsettling for the poor man.

Keeps him from sleeping.

- Jacob, it's April. April?

I'm calling from Arthur's, but he doesn't know.

I heard your conversation.

I can't sleep either.

I wanted to ask you:

Do you remember your first orgasm?

I cried the first time.

You cried? Why?

I was scared I was going to die.

Hello? Jacob?

Jacob, you're still awake?

Arthur, can one die from an orgasm... the way one can die from a dream?

Your breath is your soul.

If you are out of breath, it could mean that your soul is aging faster than your body.

But how can I restore the balance?

You must bond with a complementary soul.

Can't you just prescribe me a quicker way out?

A kind of pulmonary balm?

What you need is a fusion of souls.

Hold on to what makes you feel good.

And whatever you do, don't let it go.

It's dangerous to interfere with other people's dreams.

What's wrong?

Am I old?

What do you mean?

Have I wasted time?

You speak as if you were dead.

I just feel like a big part of myself is disappearing, that's all.

So you must give life to a new one!

It's time to try your new instrument.

Jacob, you must be creative with this one.

It's a unique, complex and fragile instrument.

So, are you ready for takeoff?

I've been ready for 50 years!

One, two, three, four.

Obus is deflating.

I don't understand. I don't understand.

Who did you use as a model?

It has nothing to do with the model.

Eugene must have made a mistake.

Where are you going?

The show starts in one hour. I might have time to repair it.

Relax. We'll be at the bar.

You sabotaged the instrument!

I would never sabotage anyone's dream.

That goes against my principles.

You didn't even look at my plan!

I didn't need your plan.

It's useless to look for something that doesn't exist.

There is no mistake, no sabotage.

The instrument is technically perfect.

The problem lies elsewhere.


This has never happened to me before.

Jacob, what's wrong? It's going too fast.

I can slow down the record even more if you like.

No, no, no. It's not the record. It's my head that's spinning.

My lungs are weakening. Where is your inhaler?

I don't need it.

When I'm with you, I can breathe better.

I'm the one who needs it.

But you have the lungs of a young virgin.

It's time for me to retire, April.

One needs to know when to bow out.

I've had a good run. That's it.

You'll need to pose for a long time.

You mean eternal repose?

No. I mean posing for a photograph.

Now? I'm in a hurry. I have a concert tonight.

You know, there are other ways to put time on hold.

Dear audience of the Liquid Pub, Mr. Obus is running a little late tonight, but he should be here any minute.

Thank you for your patience.

Next station: Champ-de-Mars.

Mind the doors.

You're already a part of me... yet I barely know you.

Do you even exist?

Station: Champ-de-Mars.

Montreal Teleportation Service, how can I help?

I got on the teleporter with a young lady but got out all alone.

It happens even to the best couples.

No, no, no, you don't understand. She disappeared!

It's common, mainly with guide dogs for the blind and illiterate.

We must never use the teleporter for two. Can't you read the instructions?

I can, but this was the first time.

There is a first time for everything.

So, the lady has disappeared. Can you describe her?

- Her name is April. April...

She has blue eyes. She's beautiful and I love her.

You love her. Noted.

Thank you for using our teleportation service.

Wait, hold on! What happened to her?

Don't worry. Nothing ever gets lost, nothing creates itself.

Good night. Good night. Good night...

I said one hour, not two!

I waited for her my whole life and ended up losing her.

Where is she?

The concert is canceled, Arthur.

Mr. Obus?

Mr. Obus!

We're closing.

Come on, one last Dream Petroleum.

If I may say so, sir, it's not a good idea.

Tell us, gentlemen, live from the Red Planet, Mars -

How is it?

Very well. What have you been up to since you arrived?

There's not much to do, you know?

Okay, let's talk about Operation Hertz, which was launched by scientists in order to...

Operation Hertz was planned in order to build a teleporter on Mars that would solve the issue of loneliness.

... come and join us...

I see! And has this teleporter been built?

But something obviously went wrong...

The first female Marsonaute!

Will you be sending her back to Earth?

Another one, quick!

Sorry, gentlemen, I can't hear you very well.

Mr. Obus, are you okay?

I'm on my way, April.

Where am I? On Mars?

That was very careless of you.

How are you, Jacob?

Since when are we allowed to just jet off without permission?

Come on.

You were out of it for a few days.

But don't worry, it's still April.

April! Where is she?

I beg your pardon? The Martian girl.

Are your lungs failing, Jacob?

No, not the lungs. It's the soul.

Mr. Obus has lost his inspiration.

I give up.

I lied to you, guys.

All these years, I've been lying to everyone.

When April and I made love, it was my first time.

And probably my last.

But believe me... when I say that... during all these years, I tried my best to speak convincingly about things I knew nothing about.

Well, you were certainly very convincing.

I'm sorry.

We can't leave our audience on such a sad note.

We have to give one last performance.

You owe it to us, after lying for so long.

If not for you, do it for us.

Or for April.

You're the only one that can make this instrument work, Jacob.

You create the limits of your own reality.

The answer is within you.

What do you know about reality?

An electric eel for Mr. Obus.

And a flying fish for Mr. Spaak.


The universe that surrounds us is just an illusion.

Our inner and outer worlds are closely linked.

One cannot exist without the other. Look.

Our conscience creates physical reality.

Whether you like it or not, science is the new religion.

You must have faith.

I have no faith in science.

It stole April away from me. And it will bring her back to you!

How would you like to try out my new invention?

You'd make the perfect guinea pig.

Back to our point of departure: Montreal.

Thank you for traveling across the world aboard the Orient Express.

Please take the time to finish your food.

Enjoy your evening!

It's all in your head.

In yours too, Jacob.

Your brain is a spaceship.

It can take you wherever you want to go, even to Mars!

We're all set for your departure.

Where are you going, Eugene?

Your dreams are getting agitated.

I must prepare to harness them.

If you want to hear my dreams, come with me tonight to the Liquid Pub.

My friends, I'm going to play an exceptional instrument.

Are you doing it on purpose?

Arthur, I need your help.

So, what do you think?

I wouldn't have drawn it this way. Of course not!

Can this thing take off?

Well, not in the way you think, Jacob.

The eye is the brain's camera as well as the soul's screen.

Jacob will serve as the eye and Arthur will be the screen.

The visual influx amplified by Jacob's brain will be sent back to Arthur's eye in a loop.

The unconscious imagery will repeat itself infinitely, leading Jacob into his own depths.


I won't be able to bring you back.

You'll have to find it within yourself to come back to reality, with or without April.

It's ridiculous!

Risks are minimal for the copilot.

This journey will take place in your unconscious.

That is often where archetypes take control.

Let it happen, but be vigilant.

You will be the one creating problems and only you will hold the key to solve them, like in a dream.

Like in a dream.

I'm starting the unconscious feedback process.

Takeoff in five, four, three, two, one...

Have a safe trip, gentlemen.

I'm the prisoner of my own dreams and reality is suffocating me!

I'm going crazy! You're not crazy.

Perhaps you're perceiving reality in a new way?

This time, I really am on planet Mars, right?

Well, actually...

We're not really on Mars.

But what about April?

The young lady that was accidentally sent to Mars... on this teleporter!

Where is she?

...a beautiful woman named April...

Then how can I find her?

The answer...

Good luck!

To what do we owe the honor?

Doctor, you've been on 3DV, so tell me the truth.

The Marsonautes' saga is a hoax, isn't it?

Who told you such a thing?

The Marsonautes themselves.


You have a truly odd spirit.

It can't distinguish dream from reality.

I can't stay.

Someone is expecting me.


On Mars!

Safe journey, Mr. Obus.

Off you go.


Where are we?

And where is April?


We're in the heart of the instrument, where air turns into sound waves.

You mean we're inside our instrument?

Of course!

Where else could we be?

And you think April is down there?

Where else?

Air only travels one way in an instrument.

We must follow the breeze.

My friend, we're about to find out how much air you have left in you.

The theme of my research is vacuum.

But I must warn you, the negative only captures the truth.

We're about to find out if you're still inspired.

Tell me about your most beautiful experience.

This is where sound waves are forever lost in infinity.

As soon as the music is released from the instrument, it no longer belongs to us.

I'm happy, my friends.

I feel complete.

Isn't that blue spot over there Earth?

Yes, and it's time to go back!

The model before the instrument maker.

No, you go first, Arthur.

Goodbye, my friend.

We made it... together.

Let's talk about it later over a Dry Fueltini.

The muse before the musician.

There are no internal commands in this teleporter.

The unit is activated from the outside.

It was designed to bring people to Mars, not to take them back to Earth.

Someone has to stay behind to make sure that others can leave.

Which means...

That I'm staying here.

No, that I'm staying here with you!

It is time to go back to Earth now.

Not without you!

Otherwise, how will I breathe?

How is he?

Your friend is still alive.

But his mind is not responding.

I'm afraid that the process is irreversible.

His lungs are still in very good condition.

A patient who is unable to breathe just landed here.

She needs a lung transplant right away.

She is the first female Marsonaute.

April! Jacob did it!

We could use artificial lungs... but nothing compares to the breath of an old musician.

This is not death, Arthur.

It's a rebirth.

Famous retired musician Jacob Obus has drawn his last breath.

It is believed that this last breath could be felt as far as planet Mars.

In fact, as crazy as it may sound, we are receiving musical waves live from the Red Planet.

I leave you with Jacob Obus' final performance.

Source subtitling: CNST, Montreal