Emma (2011) Movie Script

Emma, your dad's almost here.
I'm done.
You've done a lot!
This is for the Red Cross.
The rest is garbage.
- Even your dolls?
- I'm giving them away.
Even Dalia?
I'm done with dolls.
Get over it, Mom.
They'll get adopted,
and start a new life.
- Can he come up?
- No!
Wait up, Dad,
I'll be right there.
- So we agree on the color?
- Black is rather gloomy.
- Why not grey?
- Cause I want a black room.
I've a sample.
No goodbye kiss?
Are we there yet?
- We just left, Lola.
- Do you want to hear a story?
- Nope! Why isn't Jerome with us?
- I already told you, honey.
- There's not enough room.
- He's coming with Vincent.
- Who's Vincent?
- I forgot to tell you.
He's the son of an old friend
of mine, Bernard Mallet.
We studied architecture
together. He's in Brazil now.
- His son will stay with us.
- What for?
- To get his mind off things.
- Really?
- How old is he?
- About your age.
- I'm not looking after him!
- Make an effort.
He's had a difficult year.
- Can I have my usual room?
- Sure, if you want.
- Want to choose, Eleanor?
- I'll take the usual one, too.
- Want to choose, Eleanor?
- I'll take the usual one, too.
You had a nightmare.
The same one as last time.
It's terrible.
Your mother shouldn't have
told you those stories.
I wanted to know the truth
about what happened.
But now,
it's making my life difficult.
I can't even breathe!
Calm down, calm down.
I won't have children.
That way, it'll stop.
Your mother told you
this story so you'd forget it.
Think about it: You can't forget
something you don't know about.
- Good morning, Emma.
- Morning.
- Slept well?
- Yourself?
Fine, thank you.
- Why take it away?
- You like it?
No, but I'd leave it.
I like it there.
Now we must be fashionable.
- Be what you want.
- It's not so easy.
I don't know, Alain.
You figure it out.
I don't have the blueprints.
I can't help you.
Can you give me a hand, Pierre?
- They were there the last time.
- Pierre, please.
Coming!
- I'll call you later.
- It's too heavy.
Grab the other one.
I'll call you later.
Irene abruptly
came into our lives.
One day, she was there,
at my father's side.
And my mother was gone.
The same thing happened to
Jerome's mom before I was born.
That same form of exile again.
My mother, single.
And me, living with her.
- Can't sleep?
- No.
Come here.
- Did you have a bad dream?
- No.
- Are you OK, Mom?
- Yes, sweetheart.
What are you doing?
I'm looking at a picture
of your dad's new girlfriend.
She's not pretty.
She looks like a gargoyle.
Who's Vincent?
Why's his father sending him?
Don't you remember him?
You spent a summer together,
when you were 5 or 6. Remember?
Not at all.
The boy who stole
your plush toy.
He said you gave it to him.
What? One of my favorite
plush toys? He stole it!
- I hope he's changed.
- He's no longer into plush toys.
I remember him.
Chubby and rather ugly.
There they are.
This is my sister.
Hi! How are you?
- Hi Vincent, how are you?
- Fine, yourself?
You've grown!
- Had a nice trip?
- Yeah.
- Glad to see you.
- So am I.
Hi, son.
How are you?
The car's this way.
I'll take your suitcase.
- How's your father?
- He's doing well.
- Anything for me?
- Look at him.
It drives me nuts. He speaks
to strangers, but not to us.
I'm sure he'll love that jerk.
He's the bookworm type.
"Has everyone noticed
how well-read I am?"
- He read during the entire trip.
- I read books, too.
You're a girl.
It's not the same.
I almost forgot.
He even gave me his stupid book.
Here. I don't want it.
FRANNY AND ZOOEY
J.D. SALINGER.
Lola, sweetheart.
Look who's here!
They're back!
My little princess!
How are you?
You're so pretty!
You're so cute. You've grown!
What's in your hair?
For those interested,
we're going to the beach.
- I'll ask Eleanor.
- She's here?
Our dad has always been
loyal to his ex-mother-in-laws.
- Are you coming with us?
- No, I'm fine here.
- What are you gonna do?
- Some writing.
Letters?
- No. I'm delving into my past.
- Still writing about the war?
It's not about war. At least,
not only about the war.
About my childhood. You'll see.
One day, you'll think about your
childhood and about your mother.
I'll never lose her.
She's immortal.
Go on, I'll join you.
Hi, Paul.
This spot is fine.
- Who's going in?
- Not me, there might be weevers.
What are those?
You don't know?
A weever's a treacherous fish
that hides in the sand,
and waits.
- So?
- ts dorsal fin is razor sharp.
It pierces the skin.
Plus, it's poisonous.
Your foot doubles in size.
I'm going in.
Wait for me!
It's freezing!
Socks, in the closet! 1, 2, 3.
Socks, socks... 1, 2, 3.
Done! And now,
for something harder.
Here we go.
Clothes, clothes...
Time for a shower.
Look!
He's got 3 books
on his night table.
You've changed.
I wouldn't have recognized you.
Maybe.
You've changed as well.
Your father told me
about the plush toy.
True, you didn't give to me.
I don't have it anymore.
- I can't give it back.
- It's OK.
At least
you admitted stealing it.
Why'd you have a difficult year?
- How are you?
- Fine.
Do you miss your mother?
Why are you asking?
I don't know.
You two are close, no?
You miss your mother?
You've been with my dad for
years, yet you're a stranger.
Maybe because you're not
interested in finding out more.
Why wear nail polish?
Looks like blood on your hands.
You hate everything that was in
my dad's life before he met you.
- That's not true.
- You don't even realize it.
I feel sorry for you
that we're here. I really do.
It's really too bad.
I don't know who you are
or what you think.
It's pretty obvious
what I think, no?
You're not making sense.
What do you want?
Listen, you know where it is?
Then go ahead...
I don't give a damn.
Read the letter to me.
Hand me your plates.
That's what I said.
Call Verges and ask him.
You figure it out.
Call me when it's done. Bye.
Sorry.
- Why do you work so much?
- I work, period.
I hope you're joking.
Each minute of your life
is devoted to your firm.
Even on vacation
you're on the phone,
- wheeling and dealing.
- I have no choice.
That's what puts food
on the table,
and pays for all this,
among other things.
There's a good excuse.
What about
your ex-wives' alimony?
- Please, not tonight. I'm tired.
- Right, you're tired.
That's exactly what I mean.
You work non-stop,
then you're tired.
It's really great for us.
We can never talk to you.
We don't always have to talk
to understand each other.
- I'm not much of a talker.
- Depends on the person.
What do you want to talk about?
- You.
- What about me?
Why are we here?
I don't know what you mean.
You're not here for me.
Yes we are, Dad.
I know why I'm here.
You like having a son.
And I know you love me.
But that's about it.
In fact, Dad... Dad?
You're not interested in me.
And even less in Emma.
No one interests you.
- Except Lola, and perhaps Irene.
- That's enough, Jerome!
Fine...
Way to go.
These are your father's
only vacations,
- and you find a way...
- It's none of your business.
-I live with your father.
-So?
That's no reason for stopping
Jerome from talking to his dad.
He was there before you.
All of us were.
When you met him,
he was married.
Doesn't it bother you?
Sleeping in the same bed
where Emma's mom slept?
Enough! You too, Emma.
Be quiet!
How long do you plan
on hassling your father?
I wonder how he managed
to keep his cool.
Why the hell should you care?
I don't care, I just think
your father's great, that's all.
You can have him if you want.
- Where are you going?
- For a walk.
You lose.
Wait for me.
- Why did you kiss my knee?
- I didn't.
Are you all right?
You should always carry a vial
of poison or a razor blade,
to protect yourself
against evil.
You're a strange girl.
My best friend
shot himself in front of me.
This fish was cursed
when it was small,
so it can't swim. It sinks.
What do you say we help it?
We must throw it
back into the water.
Hold on! I'm coming!
Jerome!
It's not funny, come out!
That's enough, stop it!
Are you stupid or what?
That's not funny.
Let's see
how it's doing, sweetie.
So, can you manage?
Yes, but it's hard
to not eat any. I'm starving.
- Could I have some ros?
- Of course, honey.
- I'd love to see an auction.
- Really?
- I've never seen one.
- You may not like it.
Jerome came once.
He was bored stiff.
- But we're different.
- I'd say so.
- I'll check it out.
- When are the guests arriving?
Huh... 8:30 PM.
Could you get me
some paper napkins?
It's exactly what I thought.
They love him.
It's not the same.
For him, Dad and Irene aren't
parents, they're normal people.
So that's what it is.
They look nice from the outside.
That's what it is.
No doubt about it.
- Hi!
- Hello!
- Irene would love those!
- Not bad!
This one's even better!
It's her style.
- This one!
- Too classy!
- Super cool colors!
- Let's get these!
We'll say there were
no more white ones.
Let me see.
They're horrible! Perfect!
- How's the wine?
- Needs to breathe a bit.
What are these dreadful things?
- Why not white ones?
- They were out.
- We thought those would do.
- Are you making fun of me?
Not at all. They're kinda nice.
Come back here.
And apologize.
It's not our fault
if they were out of stock.
- We thought it was stylish.
- That's enough!
- Go back to the mini-mart.
- They're probably closed.
I don't give a damn.
And make sure they're white.
Petrovici was a ceramist
during the interwar period,
of minor importance, yet the
value of his work skyrocketed.
- It was totally unexpected.
- What happened?
What do you think?
I know.
Something to do
with the catalogue?
The way Irene showcased
his work had an influence?
- Precisely.
- Congratulations, young man.
I know Irene's modest,
and I shouldn't say this,
but she did a remarkable job.
Great photographs.
But above all,
she made this artist
look like a Giacometti of sorts.
Room service. Madam is served.
Wait, kitten.
Let me finish my sentence.
- There.
- That was a long sentence!
You think my sentences
are too long?
I don't know.
- Has anyone proofread it?
- No.
Not yet.
You're writing your memoirs?
- I know, it's not very original.
- No.
But that's all right.
We should all write one.
Can I read it?
I thought the past
suffocated you.
Just one excerpt.
- I know which one.
- Then tell me.
The forest.
The one you were fleeing to,
and they caught you.
It's not written yet.
I can't write it.
Not for now.
Is it similar
to what Mom told me?
Ah, my love.
I don't know
what your Mom told you.
Then write it!
So I can finally
know what happened.
Jerome...
Have you...?
- Have you seen Jerome?
- No.
- You OK, Emma?
- Yeah.
...in other words, archery
is not about aiming a bow
and shooting arrows,
but about unlocking
something within ourselves.
Where were you?
We were looking for you
to play poker.
- What happened? You're bleeding.
- I fell.
Don't move,
I'll take care of it.
- What happened?
- Nothing. I just fell.
- I hate seeing people hurt.
- I'm not hurt.
- You're bleeding.
- It's nothing serious.
Yes, it is.
- You should be more careful.
- That's a stupid thing to say.
Nonsense...
You're the one
who makes no sense.
Let's see...
We'll have to amputate.
Just kidding!
- Where did it happen?
- On the street.
Can I ask you a question?
Sure. If it's not spiteful.
Sure. If it's not spiteful.
- Are you happy with my father?
- Very.
- You always seemed worried.
- With you and Jerome, I am.
You have no idea
how destructive you are.
- We scare you that much?
- Only when you try to exclude me
- from your father's life.
- That's not possible.
Dad always did what he wanted.
If he loves you,
we have no power over that.
Can I ask you another question?
Did your parents ever divorce?
No. I lost my mother
when I was 15.
- You never told me that.
- I had no reason to.
- Your father brought you up?
- He put me in a boarding school.
When my mother died,
my dad fell to pieces.
He was madly in love with her.
He was upset with me.
He said I looked like her,
and that it was...
...unbearable.
- He'd have preferred I had died.
- How can you say that?
It's the truth.
I overheard him say, "A couple
can always have children,
"and start over.
"But now it's over."
I wonder how it would be
if my mother were here.
What would she think?
I wonder how it feels
to miss your mother,
but be able to see her again
because she's alive.
Do we miss them more
when they're alive?
I don't know.
Perhaps.
We're a burden for those living.
It's complicated.
- I'm tired. Let's go.
- I'll stay longer.
- I said we're going.
- Don't be so protective.
I'll buy some bread
on the way home.
Mom! I've got
a surprise for you!
Turn around!
- What's this?
- A gift.
- You stole it?
- Who cares?
It's a nice coat to wear.
You look great in it.
- "Who cares"?
- Are you crazy?
- Take that coat back.
- Take it back? I stole it!
If you don't want it,
throw it out.
Bring gifts
to your father, instead.
To thank him for abandoning us.
Stop it!
It happens! A man meets
another woman. That's life.
Careful, the sun's
stronger than it looks.
Dad? Have you ever
read "Franny and Zoey"?
Yes, a long time ago.
I know I loved it,
but I don't remember why.
You remember the story
about the pilgrim?
Not really.
The man who didn't know what
it meant when the Bible said
- man should pray all the time?
- Doesn't ring a bell.
Try to remember!
The pilgrim who traveled
across Russia, only to find out
you only have to say
a prayer, or the word "God",
and repeat it constantly.
Simple as that: "God".
You don't need to have faith
or believe in any god.
By repeating "God" or a prayer,
something happens.
The words harmonize
with your heartbeat,
and it has
a powerful, mystical impact.
Isn't that great?
Can't sleep?
No.
- Can I?
- Are you by yourself?
They were all asleep
when I left.
A large latte, please.
- Irene's not with you?
- She wasn't feeling too well.
Not on our account, I hope?
- Remember when Emma got sick?
- What?
When Emma got sick.
She must have been
about 9, right?
It started out as bronchitis.
But you know
how it is with Emma.
So she ended up in hospital.
Where were you at that time?
Of course! How stupid of me!
You were with her.
That's enough.
Thank you.
Here. This is for her.
For Irene.
Come on, take it.
It's a gift.
It can't hurt her.
You can't accept it?
Yet I accepted the plastic toy
you gave me when Emma's mother
suddenly appeared, while mine
was taken away from my life.
I was too young.
Are you listening to me?
- Want me to go back to Paris?
- No, I don't.
Drink your coffee,
it'll get cold.
- Dad?
- Yeah?
Are you all right?
You're very perceptive.
- Is it because of Jerome?
- No.
I mean, yes.
A little.
I don't know what to do.
How to help him.
- What are you doing?
- Nothing.
Nothing at all.
- Where are you going?
- For a walk.
- Hi!
- Hi!
Going for a walk?
Wait.
Wait...
I'm sorry.
I'm probably not the first
to ask you dumb questions.
Why?
'Cause you're pretty.
- Where are you from? Paris?
- It's that obvious?
You walk as if
you were on a street.
But not any street.
A street with nice boutiques.
- Is that your boat?
- I salvaged it.
I'll fix it up, then sell it.
I was planning to go farther,
but I'll head back.
- There's nothing to see, anyway.
- Here, neither.
There's always me.
- Haven't I seen you before?
- Probably. I come every day.
What's your name?
I'm Leonard.
I live over here,
with my mother.
See ya.
- See you soon.
- See you soon.
- What time is it?
- 1 AM.
You coming?
- Where?
- Outside.
- Jerome's not with you?
- He's at a party.
- What party?
- At a friend's.
Do you love me?
You never say anything.
I never know
what you're thinking.
When I get close,
you do nothing.
What are you doing?
Take off your T-Shirt.
- Why don't you take it off?
- I prefer you do it.
Lie down.
- Did you fall out of bed?
- Couldn't sleep.
- I've got croissants.
- Thanks.
You always get up this early?
It's the best time to work.
Nobody's up
to nag me about it.
What is it?
I used to be afraid
to disappoint you.
I couldn't imagine not being
exactly who you wanted me to be.
It's no longer the case?
Should I be glad about this?
I don't know.
Come on, Lola. Your turn!
Are you ready?
If you stop it,
I'll buy you a Coke.
Vincent's skin is soft.
Softer than mine.
It reminds me
of a bird's feathers.
Yet I've never touched a bird.
How silly.
Or if I did, I don't recall.
No...
I've never touched a bird.
Or if I did,
only with my fingertips.
You haven't spoken to me
all day! What's going on?
- Vincent, what's holding you?
- Coming.
Talk to me...
Lola sweetheart,
wanna see my castle?
It's almost done.
You like it?
I like it a lot,
but there's no window.
Then we'll add some windows.
Come see how pretty
the castle is.
What kind of windows
do you want?
Round ones.
Here!
My life is now about waiting
for Vincent to look at me.
I wait, longing for one look,
one word.
A single word, just for me.
A simple word would do.
To be liberated
from this burden.
My downfall would be lightened.
I'd stop plunging into this life
that isn't mine anymore.
I'm losing touch with my life.
My favorite granddaughter
is paying me a visit!
- You have only one!
- Still, you're my favorite.
Can you hand me
that notebook lying on the desk?
The other one, the red one.
I'd like...
I'd like to read you something.
Sit down.
I was able to write this,
thanks to you.
Jeannette came to wake me.
I heard the sound of engines,
voices, and the noise
of boots and weapons
that accompanied it.
She said, "Go through the cellar
and hide in the forest."
I was paralyzed with fear.
"Hurry, they're here!"
She pushed me out of bed...
Are you listening?
Why are you reading this to me?
- What's the matter?
- Nothing.
- Do you want to talk?
- I've nothing to say.
Vincent knows
my body intimately.
Nothing holds him back.
He's gentle.
Cruel.
Gentle and cruel.
Stop staring at me.
I'm going fishing
in the marsh. Wanna come?
Have you ever been there?
- Do you know where we're going?
- I know a nice spot.
What are you mumbling?
It's an experiment.
What is it?
Do you believe in God?
Yeah. And you?
No.
Do you pray often?
Depends.
No, not very often.
- I pray all the time.
- Why? You don't believe in God!
I'm praying for something.
For something to happen, I mean.
Why are we stopping?
Are we lost?
How can that be?
We're still on earth, aren't we?
Look what we have here...
"Immerse the crawfish
in boiling water.
"Add cider vinegar."
You're up next, Emma.
I don't want to see this!
Disgusting!
They're still moving!
That's gross!
You won't say that
when you eat them.
Look how nice it is.
Crawfish aren't bad.
Don't be afraid.
They can pinch, though.
Bye, Mona!
- Can you hand me a plate?
- Of course.
Take this one instead.
Get lost!
Why didn't you answer?
We're going out. Wanna come?
- Where?
- Dancing.
- Dancing?
- We never get the chance.
- So we're going tonight.
- Don't feel like it.
I'll have none of that!
Tonight, everyone dances,
including you. That's an order!
You shut yourself
in your room for days.
I'm coming.
What are you doing?
You're not wearing that?
This is fine.
Yes, but tonight
calls for a dress.
Yeah, right...
No discussion. You're changing!
I'll wait in the hall.
You're taking too long.
I'm coming in.
What?
- You're such a pain.
- Why is that?
You don't know you're pretty. If
you did, you wouldn't be a pain.
Why should I go
if I'm such a pain, then?
Why are you crying?
It's nothing.
I'm crying for everyone else.
For the entire world.
- And for you, as well.
- Don't worry about me. I'm fine.
That's what you think.
We're going dancing!
Come on, get moving.
Loosen up!
Ah! I made you laugh.
Dance with me.
- How's it going?
- Great! And you?
Wanna dance?
Come on...
- I have to go.
- Don't...
- I'm going home.
- Already?
- I'm fed up.
- Wait.
- Stay a little longer.
- No.
- I'll buy you a drink.
- I wanna leave.
A drink wouldn't hurt.
You're gonna end up a nun...
- There are no Jewish nuns.
- See? You'd be the first!
Want me to go with you?
Bye, now.
My feet don't even hurt.
Just barely, in fact.
But it's still not enough.
It would feel good
to really hurt.
I'd like to walk on weevers.
It would hurt less
than what Vincent did.
He's eaten me alive
and torn me to shreds.
Without any resistance
on my part.
I can hardly believe it.
Turn it off.
Are you OK, Dad?
Not really.
I'll be fine. I'm just tired.
- Not enough sleep?
- No, I sleep.
I'm just tired, that's all.
Just tired.
- Did something bad happen?
- No.
A little tiff?
My mother used
to stroke me like that.
Go to bed.
I'll be fine tomorrow. Go, now.
It's nothing.
Go to sleep.
- Are you done?
- Wait.
Wait. Here, this is for you.
- What is it?
- It's what you asked for.
You can read it now, 10 years
from now, or never, if you wish.
- Fine...
- No word for your mom?
- I'm upset at her and you.
- Why?
- I've got no breathing room.
- What's going on?
I'm fed up of living
with an abandoned mother,
and hearing your stories
about dead Jews,
and being tormented
by a bastard.
Your mother
wants to speak to you.
What is it?
- I've got a surprise for you.
- Listen, Mom.
I'm tired of living alone
with you, day in and day out.
You always seem to make
an effort to feel sad.
Why are you saying this?
I'm sick of feeling guilty for
forgetting how sad we should be.
Do you realize that?
Hi! How are you?
Remember me?
I was at the dance.
- Yeah, I remember.
- I danced with your boyfriend.
- He's not my boyfriend.
- He's not?
He seems to care
a lot about you.
After you were gone,
he stopped dancing.
He kept looking for you
and checking for SMS.
I don't care about him.
Fine... G'bye, then.
- You don't seem all right.
- Not really.
Your mother told me about it.
Would you like to live with us?
Lola would love that.
- What about Irene?
- You shouldn't say that.
Irene likes you a lot.
You and your brother
are always on her case.
I know.
- Who's the bastard?
- Sorry?
The bastard tormenting you.
- Is it me?
- Of course not, Daddy!
Do I know him?
I don't want to talk about it.
You're sure I can't help you?
You'd prefer
that I shut up, huh?
- I'm going for a walk.
- We're leaving soon.
Just a stroll.
- Hi!
- Hi!
- Is is working fine?
- Still needs a bit of tuning.
Wanna come for a ride?
No.
Come closer...
You don't want to?
Yes.
Come.
I don't live here.
It's where
I store my equipment.
Gimme a hand?
Come.
- What's the matter?
- Nothing.
- You don't want to?
- Yes.
I don't think so.
I like you, but we don't know
each other that well.
Yes, you were.
That's what you did.
What do we do now?
I thought I felt like it,
but I'm not sure anymore.
Well, I am.
Kiss me.
What's the matter?
There's someone.
What are you doing?
Where are you going?
I have to go.
They're probably about to leave.
Don't run away like that!
Don't run away like that!
- When will I see you?
- I dunno.
- Wanna go boating tomorrow?
- No. Let me go. Please.
I have to go.
What are you doing?
Stop!
I never touched her!
Stop it!
Stop, Vincent!
- Bastard.
- Let me go, Emma.
Stop!
Vincent, stop! Stop!
Are you OK?
- Excuse me, are you family?
- Yes.
- How's his friend doing?
- I'll get the doctor.
Thank you.
Are you all right?
Did they examine you?
- Hello.
- Hello, Dr.
He's more shaken than hurt.
Nothing serious.
But I'll keep his friend
under observation.
Can we see him?
His mother's with him.
The scanner results are good.
He should be released tomorrow.
Thank you.
Both of you
could've been killed.
What were you thinking?
Answer me!
Idiot.
This violence is exactly
what I hate the most.
How are you?
I'm no longer angry.
POLICE STATION
It's taking long.
Do you think he'll get anything?
Depends on whether or not
Leonard presses charges.
Pierre asked him to leave.
He's going back
to Brazil tomorrow.
- I'd love to go away.
- What do you mean?
- To Brazil?
- No, stupid.
Just go away.
Not going back at my mom's.
The idea of spending
another year with my mother...
...is killing me.
- Stop crying.
- I'm not.
Yes, you are.
It's OK to cry.
I want to be alone.
I wish...
I wish things
would've happened differently.
What do you want?
Quiet, Baltic.
- You're here for Leonard?
- Yes.
Come in. Don't be afraid,
he doesn't bite.
Do you like beer?
We only have dogs
in the summer.
My mother keeps them while
their owners are on vacation.
- Vincent asked me to thank you.
- Who's Vincent?
The asshole who beat me up?
I don't give a damn
about his gratitude.
I didn't press charges, because
we don't snitch around here.
What are you gonna do?
- Nothing.
- After summer, I meant.
As usual.
Some fishing, some tinkering.
- What about you?
- Boarding school.
Maybe abroad.
I see.
I'll write.
- You don't like it?
- No, I do.
Take care of yourself.
You too.
"You're my Daddy."
Well...
Don't forget to call.
- Bye.
- Goodbye.
Why don't we see
each other more often?
We're kids and we don't want
to break our mom's hearts.
Yeah, that's true.
I could let you know
when I'm in concert.
OK.
I wanted to say, "I love you,
you know. You're my brother."
A declaration.
Just like at the movies.
But I'm not good at that,
so I said nothing.
I just said:
Bye, Jerome.
And he said:
Bye, sister.
And I knew he felt
the same way I did.
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Emma (2011) English.srt
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