King of the Belgians (2016) Movie Script
Some men go to great heights
to ensure a dazzling legacy.
Most of us just struggle
to get by.
And a random few are
born to be king.
- It's quite a small camera, isn't it?
- It's modern technology, Your Majesty.
It's impressive that one can make movies
with such a small piece of equipment.
- How big is your team, Mr. Lloyd?
- I'm the team. There's just me.
You're perfect. We'll make a nice
portrait of you, do not worry.
Are you still so tired?
Sire, allow me, your speech.
- Mr. Moreau?
- Mr. Lloyd?
I have to adjust His Majesty's
microphone, if I may.
Yes, of course.
The documentary, Our King, must
celebrate our king's competence.
- And professionalization.
- I understand, Your Majesty.
And you must capture his
vitality and his spontaneity.
- Controlled spontaneity.
- Of course.
And the smiles. We need a lot of them.
You're British, that's not bad.
The Belgians, if you were, are socially
to be reminded
that these ongoing conflicts
between Flanders and Wallonia
- are counterproductive.
- Unbearable.
The image of our king is the
one and only unifying force.
- That's why it must be polished.
- Understood, Your Majesty.
- Please, excuse me.
- Please.
Belgium, is it a proper country or
just some geopolitical compromise?
I don't know.
But it does have palace and a king.
And a queen who hired me to make
a promotional documentary about her husband.
Nicolas III,
the King of the Belgians.
Mr. Lloyd, let me remind you the rule
number one, no interviews.
And rule number two,
no improvisations.
Well, I would like to discuss that
at some point.
The contract is very clear, Mr. Lloyd.
Just follow the script, Mr. Lloyd.
Clearly they didn't realize that
I was filming them which gave me hope.
This is the boring bit. I stick to their
script and shoot the king being kingly.
Have you been here before?
This is the first time.
But the scene is necessary to
appreciate this rather unlikely story.
His story, my story.
We will soon be welcoming Turkey
into the embrace
of the European Union.
We, Belgians, being at
the heart of Europe,
will allow this
this momentous occasion
by donating our beloved Mini-Euro Park
to the Turkish people.
He has already sent
me eleven messages.
I do not know how I can do my job
while I'm following this documentary.
The Queen would not cancel it
because of her annual cold.
Sire?
If you allow me.
Mr. Bulut told me the
evening program.
At 18, show of
dancing dervishes.
No speech, just a few words.
I remember not to mention Iraq,
Syria, Israel, the Kurds, Armenia.
Our federal problems, our debt.
And, above all, football.
It is a delicate topic.
The gala dinner will start
at 8 p.m. Nine courses.
No kebabs?
One, two, three.
Mr. Moreau, if you'll be so kind?
Thank you, and action.
Sire, the press conference will
begin at 11 p.m. at Miniatirk.
Your speech, sire.
The Prime Minister has
made some changes.
I remember that in Turkey, the
handshakes are energetic.
It's even shorter.
Brussels insisted on brevity.
Clearly a consequence of
my speech in Scotland.
- I thought I had improvised this well.
- That's right, sire.
Cut, please. Once more.
Carlos, please.
Sire, it is best to
avoid any comment.
Sorry.
His Majesty?
Very well.
Yes, I'll be careful.
I care for you, do not worry.
I think so, yes.
See you, His Majesty.
Mr. Lloyd? The Queen wanted
me to remind you...
to film the speeches from beginning
to end and to catch the smiles.
Shall we do that again?
Sire, the press conference will
begin at 11 p.m. at Miniatirk.
Your speech, sire.
The Prime Minister has
made some changes.
I remember that Turkey's
handshakes are energetic.
Cut.
Perfect.
Now we can go, sire.
Mr. Lloyd, you can follow us.
It's really tiny.
The Atomium? Yes, it's a fiasco.
No. Well, that too.
The space reserved
for Mini-Europe.
It looks like an extension of
Turkey instead of the opposite.
It looks like an extension of
Turkey instead of the opposite.
Mr. Moreau, excuse me.
I have been just informed that
our president unfortunately
has further delay.
May we propose to His Majesty
and to the Belgian Ambassador
a short visit of the Miniatirk Park
while we are waiting?
Mr. Moreau, what
about the Atomium?
The Turkish people have a lot to
Mustafa Kemal Atatrk,
the Commander of the Turkish forces
in the Independence War
and the founder of the
Turkish Republic.
And they expressed their gratitude
by building this colossal mausoleum.
Freedom or death.
He was a man with a vision,
wasn't he?
Yes. We all have a great admiration
fo Kemal Atatrk, Your Majesty.
While with his vision, Turkey would
be a very different country today.
This is my last shot of the king
walking around like a puppet in the park.
Breaking news was on its way and
there would be no script to follow anymore.
Ludovic!
Wallonia has declared
its independence!
Belgium collapsed!
Their declaration of independence
is called 'We're Tired'.
Fed up? About what?
The valleys feel faint, humiliated,
and misunderstood by the Flemings.
They are tired.
We must go back to
Belgium immediately.
We will arrive at the
airport in ninety minutes.
Ready? Could you repeat that?
His Majesty the King wishes to speak to
the Minister-Walloon President. Ready?
- Ludovic?
- I'm sorry, but the line has fallen.
My speech.
Of course, I'll handle it
before we arrive in Brussels.
No, Ludovic.
I will write this speech myself.
We must first analyze the political,
diplomatic and protocol aspects
with the head of the cabinet,
which is now unreachable.
And with the various
federal ministers.
I'm not sure which ones.
Sire, now we have to watch every
movement and gesture, every word.
Be cautious, sire.
Faster, faster!
When the king made his oath,
he promised...
to always protect the
integrity of the kingdom.
And that King is me.
Unity is strength.
Unity is strength.
This has to be included.
Carlos knew I was stealing images on the sly,
but he let me bypass protocol.
I liked Carlos.
Some have a vision.
Others have a dream.
- What does intuition tell you, sire?
- My intuition?
Perhaps this is the time
to show who you really are.
Show your feelings, your humor,
perhaps even your faults.
These defects have already been
largely mentioned by the press.
Nicolas the Silent?
Silence is dignified.
- Let them write what they want.
- Sire.
Sire.
- Louise, did you talk to the Queen?
- I can not talk to the Palace.
- And the Prime Minister?
- Still unreachable.
Does he want to be reached?
- We are ready.
- Carlos, what does he do here?
- Apparently he will not go anywhere.
- Why?
- The situation requires an emergency meeting.
- What the hell is going on?
All flights are grounded
due to a cosmic disturbance.
- Pardon me, a cosmic what?
- A solar storm to be precisely.
The satellites are malfunctioning,
some have even fallen from the sky.
Due to security purposes,
you must stay here.
- Here in Istanbul?
- No, in this hotel.
All foreign dignitaries
are being centralized here.
- How long must we wait?
- One day, one week, it's not clear.
Do you remember the Icelandic
volcano, Eyjajafufukukul?
- Eyjafjallajkull.
- Yes.
- I must get home to Belgium immediately.
- I understand, Your Majesty.
Everyone is being inconvenienced
by this situation.
I personally had my promotion
scheduled for this week.
If it is impossible to fly,
then we shall go by road.
- By road? Through the Balkans?
- Yes.
Crossing those territories
in such unstable times
is definitely not an option,
Your Majesty.
Why not?
Because it's the Balkans.
So?
- The Balkans, I mean.
- Yes, so?
Unstable.
Unstable.
It's Bulgaria, Serbia...
Romania, Albania, Macedonia...
- Excuse me.
- Your Majesty. Excuse me.
- We'll have a meeting. We're coming back.
- It's ok.
- You must understand...
- Sire.
Wait a minute, please.
We have to find a solution.
It is not possible,
Your Majesty.
Excuse me, I have to go.
Mr. Lloyd, not now.
I try to speak with Turkish
security and Mr. Bulut.
Maybe even with the Ambassador.
I'm going to take the luggage.
Sire, I will try
to see if there's network.
Excuse me.
Where is the Ambassador?
I used to cover
wars and revolutions.
Then I drank for a decade,
haunted by demons.
Profiling royals got me back
on my feet.
Let's face it,
history was in the making here.
But my position was getting dodgier
by the minute.
So I hatched a plan that
just might keep me in business.
Carlos, suppose I could get
us all out of here.
- You heard the man.
- I am an expert in getting from A to B.
- You mean B, like in Belgium?
- How about B for Bulgaria?
- What?
- You see these lovely ladies?
The legendary Black Sea Sirens.
Folk singers.
Their gig has been canceled.
And tomorrow they will leave
by bus for Bulgaria.
- The protocol will never go for that.
- Look, here's the deal.
I shoot a music video for them and
they get us out of here. Incognito.
Forget about it.
- Don't you want to get your king home?
- Sure.
Perhaps we should
talk to the boss.
- Sire.
- Yes, I can not concentrate.
Please.
The coincidence between
universes and the kingdom...
The dysfunction
of nature and man...
This yearning for independence
devise every age, doesn't it, Mr. Lloyd?
It brought our kingdom to life in 1830
and may now cause its fall.
But what is the true nature
of this independence?
This so-called freedom?
I have to find the way
to touch the people's heart.
What does your heart say, sire?
Carlos? Mr. Lloyd?
Look at that.
It's beautiful.
It comes from the solar storm.
Sire, there are no flights.
No, I understand, Carlos.
But we have an escape plan.
Explain yourself.
The Black Sea Sirens.
The Black Sea... what?
And action.
No action!
Ladies, please.
Take two.
Sire, I can not take the
responsibility of this farce.
I understand, Ludovic.
But focus now on your femininity.
- It is madness. We can not do it.
- I agree, but it was decided.
We have no other choice.
It is now or never.
But sire, we can not leave
without protocol and security.
In fact, sire, it is undeniable
that there are dangers.
- The dangers are always everywhere.
- But Mr. Lloyd will not come with us.
Mr. Lloyd is the architect
of our escape, Louise.
- He is very creative.
- Mr. Lloyd comes with us, with his camera.
We will capture our journey
back home for the people.
Point final.
What do we do with the Atomium?
Mr. Lloyd?
Go, go, go.
To be honest with you, I didn't
expect the king to go for my plan.
But we really needed to get out of Turkey
and back into the EU.
So here are all us with a king in drag
who was pondering the nature of freedom.
Please, do you really
have to do it right now?
Yeah, I have to, I'm itchy.
It's unbearable.
I'm almost done.
But what is it?
Maybe it's the shock
of the news.
The secession of Wallonia.
Think about how it feels.
Do you know that we have many
French words in Bulgarian?
- Yes?
- Yes, like...
Lift.
Bidet.
I want to show you Mascia,
Ivana and Pavlina.
This is my three daughters.
- Three daddies.
- Stay silent, Ana.
Do you have children?
No.
It's okay. You have time.
You are a man.
From Istanbul. It's better quality
than Bulgarian. I keep it.
- Look, she ate a coin.
- A coin?
Yep.
Kebab accident.
Border!
Hurry, hurry.
Be like a woman.
As the border guard approached,
I did some real heavy sweating.
I had dark visions of being locked up,
stripped naked.
My camera confiscated.
This hadn't before, my dear.
Luckily, our clandestine border crossing
coincided with another drama.
Sorry, Nicolas, but we have
some identity crisis.
- Crisis?
- We do not agree on anything.
Nothing. Nothing.
The old generation wants tradition
and we want fusion.
In Istanbul we were supposed
to be on television.
For the first time in many years.
Stupid storm.
But Mr. Lloyd here will
make a music video.
Yes, I hope so.
That first take was actually
just for fun.
I guess they just had
to get out of their system.
The real song for the music
video is a cosmic classic.
So, Mr. Lloyd, is this the
extent of the escape plan?
- Miss?
- Ana.
Ana, yes, could you inform us
about transportation?
Yes, Sofia is that way.
Thank you.
A taxi? Maybe a bus
or something?
Not so much. Maybe tomorrow.
Tomorrow? And what about that car?
Is it possible to buy that car?
No, no. It's too old.
It's not working for many years.
The Black Sea Sirens were headed
to the right to the Black Sea.
We needed to go left
to Sofia.
Ana just happened to live
at that crossroads.
My mama will help you
find a solution.
- Hello.
- She'll take you.
- Thank you.
- Come, come.
Sit, you are welcome.
Nicolas?
Sauces for kebab.
Maison. I made it.
It's nice.
This is yogurt with...
some kind of... like this one.
- Yes, dille.
- Dille?
- Yes, dille. You say...
- Dille. It's very good sauce.
This is mayonnaise.
This is some vinaigrette with...
- With garlic.
- Oh, yes.
And this is lyutenitsa.
It looks like ketchup,
but it's natural.
Do you want to try?
Me?
Mr. Lloyd?
What?
Oh my god.
It's mister Turkish security.
Christ.
I think he would have accompanied
us to Sofia's embassy.
Absolutely not. The escape of the king
would be a humiliation for the Turks.
It could cause a
diplomatic incident.
Mr. Bulet would bring us back to
Istanbul to overthrow the scandal.
Let's go home.
In an ambulance.
Ludovic, we have to stop
shooting right away.
- Mr. Lloyd, that's enough.
- Louise, please, Duncan films our journey.
Ludovic?
- Sire?
- I would like to drive myself.
Excuse me?
You heard me well.
Given the circumstances for
insurance and safety reasons.
I think it's better
that I handle all your movements.
Ludovic, let him drive.
- I don't want interferences from the waiter.
- Ludovic.
The clutch does not work well.
Do not stay in the first gear,
sire.
- I'm in the third, Ludovic.
- Excuse me.
Death by turtle,
not a way to go.
His royal reflexes
spared the fellow.
But our vehicle had
bitten the dust.
So here we were.
In the middle of Bulgarian nowhere.
No maps, no phones,
not a soul in sight.
Just the sky watching us.
My dear fellow citizens.
In these difficult times...
or foreign...
and under this mysterious sky...
we must be humble.
I like it.
I have to address myself
more to the people.
Yeah, maybe.
Since when do you advise
the king, Carlos?
Since he asks for my opinion?
My dear Carlos.
I have three university degrees and
three positions as an ambassador
and almost nine years in service of the
king, let me please advise the king.
Mr. Moreau.
I have my helicopter license.
I was scout chief for five years.
And I can stay under watar
for three minutes.
I see that Belgium's suffering
is the least of your worries.
Well, enough being envy.
Let's go.
Mr. Lloyd, enough waiting.
Let's go.
What do you think, Ludovic?
Do you have any suggestions?
No, that's fine, sire.
I think linking heaven to the present
situation of our country...
It's a good comparison.
It's not too much...
How do we say that?
- We continue?
- Sure.
- So, Louise, who's the lucky guy?
- Pardon?
The ring.
If you really want to know it.
It's Pierre-Armand.
Let me guess. French and you've
known him from law school, right?
- Did you dig around into my past?
- It's all online, darling.
- So, tell me about this Pierre-Antoine?
- No, Pierre-Armand.
- And I'm not your darling, Mr. Loyd.
- Just call me Duncan.
Give me that.
Hey, stop.
We have to go to Sofia.
- Sofia?
- Yes.
- I'll help you.
- We can go?
Let's go.
- I'm Nicolas.
- Nicolas?
- I am Yuri Angelou.
- Angelou.
- Angelou like angel.
- Like angel.
Let's go, but be careful
with my babies.
Wait.
Slow down.
All right?
An angel had come to our rescue,
wearing enough fruit for us all.
I moved to the countryside,
in nature, and I found myself.
- Now I am very strong, very strong.
- I see.
Touch.
They are melons.
I trust fruit.
Melons?
And so on...
Through out the night,
the king and the angel
muzed about the business
of watermelons,
about the future of Europe
and the nature of happiness.
And now?
We will find a way to arrive
at the next embassy in Belgrade.
First we find a bathroom.
Personally, I really need to
recharge the batteries.
What we really need now is food.
- What do you want, Louise?
- All fine, come you wish, sire.
- Kebab is fine for you?
- Perfect.
- Your Majesty. Good morning.
- Mr. Bulet.
Mr Moreau, I recommend
you all eat quickly.
I'm here to escort you
back to Istanbul.
Excuse me, but an escort to Brussels
would be more appreciated.
Mr Moreau, let's avoid
an unnecessary scandal.
Mr. Bulut, I believe that you are
beyond your jurisdiction.
A royal on the round is not going to
jeopardize Turkey joining Europe.
- I understand your concerns...
- And I do not intend to lose my job now,
after thirty years
of loyal service.
This doesn't concern you,
Bulgarian people.
Back. Back.
Louise!
Come on, let's go!
- What is going on?
- The Turks!
Our suitcases!
Ludovic, the passports?
I have the passports with me!
Where is your house?
My house is in Belgium.
In Belgium.
Brussels.
And your house?
Where is your house?
- Sofia.
- Sofia?
Yes, we are from Sofia.
This means we are more
or less in this region.
We left somewhere here.
I see, we are headed there, we are
not far from the Serbian border.
Mr. Lloyd?
Mr. Lloyd?
- It seems we're with the jury.
- A jury?
A jury, yes, a yogurt jury.
We have to go.
We have to go now.
I am sorry, but...
Okay.
Okay, okay.
- Okay, no problem.
- Thank you for everything...
- It was very nice.
- No problem.
- Don't worry.
- No, no...
Be happy,
we support you.
- Goodbye everybody, ladies and gentlemen.
- Thanks for everything.
Thank you for the bus.
Nicolas.
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
Thank you.
I have to go.
I have to go back to Brussels.
Bye-bye Victoria.
So you are the mayor of
this nice beautiful town?
Well, I have no other option,
so I'm the mayor.
It is a big responsibility because
I love these people and I care for them.
I want...
they, to be happy.
It is very difficult to understand
what the happiness is.
It's not conditional. You can not say
I will be happy if I have this...
When you say if,
you are not happy already.
That's why here we're all
happy without if.
I heard from somebody here
in this beautiful village
that you were a stuntman.
Yeah, I was stuntman, stunt coordinator,
but this is one of my professions.
I'm black belt in karate and
fourth degree of Shotokan.
I have...
I'm a scuba diving instructor.
I am the first Bulgarian
to swim the English Channel.
You know where is the English Channel?
Between England and France.
But I... I never saw
a mayor barefoot.
Once in a while, when
I go in the capital.
I put sandals or shoes.
But I go barefoot in the winter also,
even in the snow and rain.
The feet are very far from my head
so I don't have to think about it.
- Thank you, thank you very much, Mr. Mayor.
- Thank you for your hospitality.
- Thank you and God bless you.
- Thank you very much.
This was...
Belgian television in Bulgaria.
Carlos?
Sire?
Do you believe in
the kingdom?
I believe in you.
As a person.
I mean...
the institution
that unites people.
Louise?
Do you believe
in the monarchy?
For me it is not a question of
believing but of respecting it, sire.
Is it your personal opinion?
Yes, it is my personal opinion.
Ludovic?
What do you think?
The monarchy...
is the highest expression
of dignity...
of grace...
of great ideas!
The coincidence of the
universe and the kingdom...
The dysfunction of nature...
If you let me, sire.
We will have to present it
to the Prime Minister because...
We do not have the time.
- We will have a little while we return.
- Yes, but...
as soon as we arrive...
The Prime Minister
will never accept it
without consulting him.
Yes, but the Prime Minister...
I hear things...
It's strange, this experience
is like...
like a gift.
Here, among the people.
I understand, sire.
They're so welcoming and open,
and...
Here people do not have much.
They don't have much here.
And it's even...
That must be the Serbian border.
You better leave this for me.
Sire?
You really don't want protocol
to slow us down, do you?
No protocol, Ludovic.
Carlos, take the camera.
- Hello.
- Passports, please.
Good morning.
- So, are your Serbian phones working?
- No phones.
- What's really the welcome concert?
- It's Serbia's dance campaign.
The government wants foreigners to have
a positive image of Serbia.
Go for a walk.
You look so familiar.
It looks like Miss Serbia 2005.
2006 actually, and only for one month
because Miss selection was in May
and in June Montenegro
declared its independence.
And since I am from Montenegro, they gave
the title to Serb from Serbia. Bitch.
I remember this story.
But then Belgrade got tired of this
affair and they gave me this job.
Well, that's not exactly a happy
ending, is it?
Make no mistake, Mr. Duncan Lloyd.
This is a very interesting job.
- Enjoy swinging Serbia.
- Thank you, I will.
Bye.
Goodbye.
Unbelievable, I honestly
recognized that.
The Finns.
- The capital of the Falklands?
- Stanley.
The first country to
adopt Christianity?
Armenia.
The first atheist state?
- No idea.
- Albania.
Does he make you happy?
Does the camera make you feel entitled
to dig into other people's lives?
It depends.
And to what greater purpose?
The pursuit of beauty.
And truth.
- Okay, give me that.
- Why?
- The camera, give it to me.
- No way.
- Yes you are.
- Not gonna happen.
Come on. Give it to me.
So Mr. Duncan Lloyd.
- Are you ever serious?
- Only when I can't breathe.
Did you really recognize
that border guard?
I did a story on Balkan beauties
a while back.
- How come you speak some Serbian?
- I spent some time here during the war.
We have a problem.
- It must be from the civil war.
- No, there were floods.
Do you see all these
locked woods there?
Water has passed.
A nice nuisance.
This is not a scene about
a broken bridge.
It's a scene about a
very different obstacle.
One involving myself and
my troubled past.
Duncan!
Duncan Lloyd!
It's me! Dragan!
Oh my god.
What the hell are you
doing here, man?
Me?
What the hell are you doing
here in my Serbia?
Take the camera and shoot.
- Dragan, my brother.
- Dunken Dunc.
My friend.
- You've lost all your hair.
- Yes, all I have.
- Your beautiful hair.
- But you found your stomach.
Oh, my friend.
My crazy brother.
- Who are all these people?
- My team.
Nicky, the sound man.
Carlos, my camera assistant.
Our producer, Ludo.
- And Louise, my assistant.
- Hi.
Guys, this is a very special
man and a very dear friend.
What are you doing here?
We are making an item on
Turkey joining Europe.
Excuse me, are your phones
working here in Serbia?
- Where is she from?
- From Belgium.
Belgium? Maybe you don't know
your country is broken.
- Yes, we know it.
- So pity.
Heart of United Europe and you can
not keep your mini-country together.
Your country is not a fine
example either.
- Just ignore her, Dragan.
- She is right. I like her.
Well, we are true stuff of
mythology, Lady Louise.
Balkan is the Balkan.
We love. We hate.
We love.
Dragan the hawk they called him.
I made a film about him,
called Sharpshooter.
He was a champion at
the Sarajevo Olympics.
Then he became a sniper
during the siege of Sarajevo.
That's where I met him while I
was embedded with the Serbs.
- Are you serious?
- What?
- A sniper.
- A sniper?
So...
- What's the plan?
- Just keep it simple.
Simple? What? Can you define
keep it simple?
Just don't blow our cover. A royal would
fetch a pretty ransom around here.
- I do not want to go.
- Don't worry. We eat, we go.
I'm not hungry.
I'm not going.
So there I was, facing two
of my darkest demons.
Dragan the hawk and Rakia,
the lubricant of the Balkans.
Cheers.
We have said it more than once.
More than once.
A million times.
But you know what?
Now...
Now you can make documentary
part two.
Can you say something, please?
Thank you.
Thanks, Nicky.
Dragan, how would you
describe your life?
Well...
Everything happens on a different
way, you know.
Nothing was like I
wanted it to be.
You are the only one
who maybe knows that is true.
But now I am just looking...
to live without pain.
And it would be
enough for me now.
Describe the pain?
Don't ask me that, please.
Remember Sharpshooter?
Of course I remember.
We went through the whole war,
you and I.
Remember when you called me
and you told me not to release it?
- Why do you ask me if I remember?
- Why did you not want the film to be released?
Well, what do you think of the fact
that I didn't do it?
It would have launched my career,
and I listened to you.
And I didn't release it.
You... You just simply...
did something what nobody
else would do.
And I really...
I really can not believe
what you have done.
All right, I admit it.
I tried to squeeze a release out of Dragan
but never had a chance.
My film Sharpshooter will
never see the light of day.
But the king that listened
carefully to every single word.
- You don't like it?
- Yes, I like it.
That's just the beginning.
Try again.
- Drink rakia.
- He does not like it.
You have to do it fast. Look at
me, please, my friend. Look.
Do it, do it, do it, and after
that you will feel better.
- You don't like it?
- Yes, it's very good.
And then country is 'ciao'.
Belgium, your country,
ciao.
- Half and half, or...
- Maybe, maybe.
And what... What is your opinion?
Is Turkey closer to Europe?
- I think so. I think it's...
- And us? You don't want us.
- You want Turkey, right?
- No, also, also...
- But how? And when?
- It depends...
We've heard this
bullshit for centuries.
Well, a decade, okay?
And it never happened.
We gonna cut
this nice Serbian pig.
So, Lady Louise, a present for you.
This is a small... you know.
- What is the word?
- Tail.
- Do you want to try?
- No, thank you.
But you have never tried this.
Try, try, try.
- You never tried.
- It's delicious.
You have to taste it.
It's...
- Just try.
- Thank you very much, but...
She doesn't like the tail.
My dear friend.
Go straight and then left.
Right, right, sorry. Right.
Nice guy, huh?
Oh, fuck.
Louise?
Is this your own version
of the odyssey?
Just take, take and take,
won't you, Mr. Lloyd?
To what greater purpose?
- Good morning, Ludovic.
- My jacket.
- What?
- My jacket.
- What?
- The passports? I left my jacket.
- What did you just say about passports?
- I had the jacket when I was at the table.
You left your passports there?
I'm sorry, sire.
- We forgot our passports there.
- Excuse me?
Christ, now they will know
we lied all night long.
- You were drinking all night long.
- Look, we have to get off this road.
And out of the Balkans.
Believe me when I say...
You do not want
to piss this guy off.
I can guarantee you that
he will be hot on our heels.
So, now we have a crazy
Turk and a crazy Serb chasing us?
OK, the quickest way out is
to the coast and then to Italy.
But it's another border.
Montenegro.
OK, let's go.
I drive.
Sire?
Ludovic?
I am very ashamed.
I know.
I have to resign.
No, Ludovic.
You served me well,
I count on you.
I failed completely.
No, not at all.
Sire.
Here is the border.
That was the border, sire.
Yes, I know.
I'm sorry about last night.
That's okay.
Can I ask you something,
Mr. Lloyd?
Of course.
Why did you never show
the film Sharpshooter to anyone?
Dragan, he asked me not to.
And why?
He believes that the dark side
of the moon should never see the light.
And do you believe that?
No.
But the film, if I released it,
that would have destroyed them.
- One more question, Mr. Lloyd.
- Of course.
Did you film the finger?
Goodbye.
This boat is scrap.
It's impossible.
It was not in the water
for centuries.
What a scam.
I already have sea sickness.
They had no passports and no cash,
so I bought us a boat.
Not a very good one.
Are there no ferries?
Are you sure you asked?
Yes, we asked yesterday.
- It is not possible.
- It's better than it looks.
The wood is rotten.
Look at how the wood is reduced.
Have faith.
We have no choice.
- Crossing the Adriatic on this?
- You do not have to continue complaining.
I'm not complaining.
I'm realist.
- Mr. Moreau?
- Yes.
The palace will reimburse me
for the boat, won't they?
- Yes, of course, Mr. Lloyd.
- That was all the money I had left.
The west is from that side.
At sea, the most direct route
is always a curve, sire.
So tell me, does Belgium
still have a future?
I mean, why split a peanut?
Diplomacy and courage
must lead us to
compromise, Mr. Lloyd.
Maybe we just split it.
The Wallons say they are fed up.
- Are you fed up, Mr. Moreau?
- I'm fed up with...
simplicity and clich.
Carlos, get me a popular clich.
Walloons are lazy, profiteers.
- And Mr. Moreau?
- The Flemish are arrogant.
- He didn't understand you.
- The Flemish are arrogant.
Can we look at the bright side?
Is there a positive clich?
Walloons are warmer.
You know, warmer persons.
Flemish are a little bit more,
perhaps...
inventive, innovative.
That sounds like the old clich
between northern and southern Europe.
- Like Germany and Greece.
- You have a point, Mr. Lloyd.
It's like Belgium is a button that
keeps the two sides of a shirt together.
Please, sire, come back.
Be reasonable.
There he is, King of the Belgians,
end up be in a bath.
- Is it not too cold?
- No, it's perfect.
Happy without all the if's.
Come on, Ludovic, it's fantastic.
A king whose kingdom
collapsed...
A king who wanted
to go home...
to his country...
searching for the right words.
I feel.
I taste.
I smell.
I see.
All my senses are amplified.
I feel reborn.
Good morning!
We arrived!
Here we are!
Good morning!
Don't we take a good coffee?
Good morning.
I am thirsty.
Next up there, Carlos.
That will be
the local authorities.
Good morning gentlemen.
We came from the Balkans.
This is the King of Belgium.
We are a diplomatic mission.
Excuse me?
He is Albanian.
You do not speak Italian?
We are in Albania.
How in Albania?
- I do not believe it. Are you sure?
- Yes.
Let's go down and
ask for a phone.
- Carlos, what happened?
- I guess it was the streams.
- How the streams?
- There are so many wave streams at sea.
Well, then we go down.
We went to Montenegro.
There we bought a boat.
The sea was were we needed to be.
No, excuse me, Italy.
The Albanian port master was not
impressed. He smoked a dozen
while Ludovic tried to make
his case, but nothing doing.
- We were just a bunch from Balochistan.
- Can I just have a glass of water?
Please, drink.
Passports?
Yes, I know, but
if we had the passports,
you would understand who we are.
Once again, this man here is our king,
Nicolas III, King of the Belgians.
What will we do about our king?
What does the Queen
want us to capture?
His vitality...
and his spontaneity?
And the smiles.
And the smiles.
We need an official
version of this story.
Why not the truth?
Hello?
Her Majesty?
What a relief to hear your voice.
Yes, he is here,
right next to me.
No, I mean, that's right...
There is Mr. Moreau over here.
I will transfer you.
Hello? Her Majesty?
Yes... Yes, we're fine.
And you? I mean, the kingdom?
The political situation?
Yes, I understand.
The king is very fine.
We have a small problem.
Yes, you too, I imagine.
Excuse me to stop you...
No, we are not in Istanbul.
In Albania.
We are in Albania.
Yes, like Mother Teresa.
In prison, Her Majesty.
Yes, okay.
Yes, see you, Her Majesty.
- Why did you tell her about the prison?
- I did not want to invent a story.
The Chief of Cabinet will
call you to this number.
And then we'll call the guards.
Now I'm off,
if you don't mind.
Thank you very much.
- She does not answer.
- Wait.
I do not want to wait.
First you must contact...
It's ringing.
Yes, we are healthy and safe...
Did anyone explain it to you?
Can you contact the
embassy in Albania?
Go call the guards.
Sir?
Sir?
Ludovic and Louise were
being sucked back into protocol.
Meanwhile the poor fellow was
being turned into a puppet once again.
Sire, here's a clean shirt.
I understand.
Agree.
Goodbye.
Mr. Lloyd, the palace
has canceled Our King.
Sire?
The palace has
canceled Our King.
Ludovic, we are the palace.
Anything he has filmed
will be censored.
I'm sorry, Mr. Lloyd.
Well, that was the end of that.
His story and my film
will never see the light of day.
Once again, my footage was
being shut down and shelved forever.
I couldn't blame him really.
After all, a king can't control
his own destiny.
Or so I thought.
Yes, that's fine, but we have
to agree with Turkish security.
Yes, our versions must coincide.
Nobody knows.
Well, no one knew about
the king's identity.
All right. Goodbye.
Sire, I have the official
version proposed by the palace.
We left Istanbul yesterday,
accompanied by Turkish security.
And our escape in the
Balkans has never happened.
Mr. Duncan Lloyd?
I, King Nicolas III,
King of the Belgians...
hereby authorize you
to do whatever you want
with all the images and sounds
that you've captured since our day
in Mini Europe.
All pictures, sire?
Yes.
Are you sure?
Very good.
Your Majesty.
Do you think this journey is
due to coincidence or destiny?
It has to be destiny.
There must be something
more than just coincidence.
What do you fear most?
To be just...
a passenger.
Do you think your
kingdom has a future?
Yes.
Why?
Because...
I'm the king.
to ensure a dazzling legacy.
Most of us just struggle
to get by.
And a random few are
born to be king.
- It's quite a small camera, isn't it?
- It's modern technology, Your Majesty.
It's impressive that one can make movies
with such a small piece of equipment.
- How big is your team, Mr. Lloyd?
- I'm the team. There's just me.
You're perfect. We'll make a nice
portrait of you, do not worry.
Are you still so tired?
Sire, allow me, your speech.
- Mr. Moreau?
- Mr. Lloyd?
I have to adjust His Majesty's
microphone, if I may.
Yes, of course.
The documentary, Our King, must
celebrate our king's competence.
- And professionalization.
- I understand, Your Majesty.
And you must capture his
vitality and his spontaneity.
- Controlled spontaneity.
- Of course.
And the smiles. We need a lot of them.
You're British, that's not bad.
The Belgians, if you were, are socially
to be reminded
that these ongoing conflicts
between Flanders and Wallonia
- are counterproductive.
- Unbearable.
The image of our king is the
one and only unifying force.
- That's why it must be polished.
- Understood, Your Majesty.
- Please, excuse me.
- Please.
Belgium, is it a proper country or
just some geopolitical compromise?
I don't know.
But it does have palace and a king.
And a queen who hired me to make
a promotional documentary about her husband.
Nicolas III,
the King of the Belgians.
Mr. Lloyd, let me remind you the rule
number one, no interviews.
And rule number two,
no improvisations.
Well, I would like to discuss that
at some point.
The contract is very clear, Mr. Lloyd.
Just follow the script, Mr. Lloyd.
Clearly they didn't realize that
I was filming them which gave me hope.
This is the boring bit. I stick to their
script and shoot the king being kingly.
Have you been here before?
This is the first time.
But the scene is necessary to
appreciate this rather unlikely story.
His story, my story.
We will soon be welcoming Turkey
into the embrace
of the European Union.
We, Belgians, being at
the heart of Europe,
will allow this
this momentous occasion
by donating our beloved Mini-Euro Park
to the Turkish people.
He has already sent
me eleven messages.
I do not know how I can do my job
while I'm following this documentary.
The Queen would not cancel it
because of her annual cold.
Sire?
If you allow me.
Mr. Bulut told me the
evening program.
At 18, show of
dancing dervishes.
No speech, just a few words.
I remember not to mention Iraq,
Syria, Israel, the Kurds, Armenia.
Our federal problems, our debt.
And, above all, football.
It is a delicate topic.
The gala dinner will start
at 8 p.m. Nine courses.
No kebabs?
One, two, three.
Mr. Moreau, if you'll be so kind?
Thank you, and action.
Sire, the press conference will
begin at 11 p.m. at Miniatirk.
Your speech, sire.
The Prime Minister has
made some changes.
I remember that in Turkey, the
handshakes are energetic.
It's even shorter.
Brussels insisted on brevity.
Clearly a consequence of
my speech in Scotland.
- I thought I had improvised this well.
- That's right, sire.
Cut, please. Once more.
Carlos, please.
Sire, it is best to
avoid any comment.
Sorry.
His Majesty?
Very well.
Yes, I'll be careful.
I care for you, do not worry.
I think so, yes.
See you, His Majesty.
Mr. Lloyd? The Queen wanted
me to remind you...
to film the speeches from beginning
to end and to catch the smiles.
Shall we do that again?
Sire, the press conference will
begin at 11 p.m. at Miniatirk.
Your speech, sire.
The Prime Minister has
made some changes.
I remember that Turkey's
handshakes are energetic.
Cut.
Perfect.
Now we can go, sire.
Mr. Lloyd, you can follow us.
It's really tiny.
The Atomium? Yes, it's a fiasco.
No. Well, that too.
The space reserved
for Mini-Europe.
It looks like an extension of
Turkey instead of the opposite.
It looks like an extension of
Turkey instead of the opposite.
Mr. Moreau, excuse me.
I have been just informed that
our president unfortunately
has further delay.
May we propose to His Majesty
and to the Belgian Ambassador
a short visit of the Miniatirk Park
while we are waiting?
Mr. Moreau, what
about the Atomium?
The Turkish people have a lot to
Mustafa Kemal Atatrk,
the Commander of the Turkish forces
in the Independence War
and the founder of the
Turkish Republic.
And they expressed their gratitude
by building this colossal mausoleum.
Freedom or death.
He was a man with a vision,
wasn't he?
Yes. We all have a great admiration
fo Kemal Atatrk, Your Majesty.
While with his vision, Turkey would
be a very different country today.
This is my last shot of the king
walking around like a puppet in the park.
Breaking news was on its way and
there would be no script to follow anymore.
Ludovic!
Wallonia has declared
its independence!
Belgium collapsed!
Their declaration of independence
is called 'We're Tired'.
Fed up? About what?
The valleys feel faint, humiliated,
and misunderstood by the Flemings.
They are tired.
We must go back to
Belgium immediately.
We will arrive at the
airport in ninety minutes.
Ready? Could you repeat that?
His Majesty the King wishes to speak to
the Minister-Walloon President. Ready?
- Ludovic?
- I'm sorry, but the line has fallen.
My speech.
Of course, I'll handle it
before we arrive in Brussels.
No, Ludovic.
I will write this speech myself.
We must first analyze the political,
diplomatic and protocol aspects
with the head of the cabinet,
which is now unreachable.
And with the various
federal ministers.
I'm not sure which ones.
Sire, now we have to watch every
movement and gesture, every word.
Be cautious, sire.
Faster, faster!
When the king made his oath,
he promised...
to always protect the
integrity of the kingdom.
And that King is me.
Unity is strength.
Unity is strength.
This has to be included.
Carlos knew I was stealing images on the sly,
but he let me bypass protocol.
I liked Carlos.
Some have a vision.
Others have a dream.
- What does intuition tell you, sire?
- My intuition?
Perhaps this is the time
to show who you really are.
Show your feelings, your humor,
perhaps even your faults.
These defects have already been
largely mentioned by the press.
Nicolas the Silent?
Silence is dignified.
- Let them write what they want.
- Sire.
Sire.
- Louise, did you talk to the Queen?
- I can not talk to the Palace.
- And the Prime Minister?
- Still unreachable.
Does he want to be reached?
- We are ready.
- Carlos, what does he do here?
- Apparently he will not go anywhere.
- Why?
- The situation requires an emergency meeting.
- What the hell is going on?
All flights are grounded
due to a cosmic disturbance.
- Pardon me, a cosmic what?
- A solar storm to be precisely.
The satellites are malfunctioning,
some have even fallen from the sky.
Due to security purposes,
you must stay here.
- Here in Istanbul?
- No, in this hotel.
All foreign dignitaries
are being centralized here.
- How long must we wait?
- One day, one week, it's not clear.
Do you remember the Icelandic
volcano, Eyjajafufukukul?
- Eyjafjallajkull.
- Yes.
- I must get home to Belgium immediately.
- I understand, Your Majesty.
Everyone is being inconvenienced
by this situation.
I personally had my promotion
scheduled for this week.
If it is impossible to fly,
then we shall go by road.
- By road? Through the Balkans?
- Yes.
Crossing those territories
in such unstable times
is definitely not an option,
Your Majesty.
Why not?
Because it's the Balkans.
So?
- The Balkans, I mean.
- Yes, so?
Unstable.
Unstable.
It's Bulgaria, Serbia...
Romania, Albania, Macedonia...
- Excuse me.
- Your Majesty. Excuse me.
- We'll have a meeting. We're coming back.
- It's ok.
- You must understand...
- Sire.
Wait a minute, please.
We have to find a solution.
It is not possible,
Your Majesty.
Excuse me, I have to go.
Mr. Lloyd, not now.
I try to speak with Turkish
security and Mr. Bulut.
Maybe even with the Ambassador.
I'm going to take the luggage.
Sire, I will try
to see if there's network.
Excuse me.
Where is the Ambassador?
I used to cover
wars and revolutions.
Then I drank for a decade,
haunted by demons.
Profiling royals got me back
on my feet.
Let's face it,
history was in the making here.
But my position was getting dodgier
by the minute.
So I hatched a plan that
just might keep me in business.
Carlos, suppose I could get
us all out of here.
- You heard the man.
- I am an expert in getting from A to B.
- You mean B, like in Belgium?
- How about B for Bulgaria?
- What?
- You see these lovely ladies?
The legendary Black Sea Sirens.
Folk singers.
Their gig has been canceled.
And tomorrow they will leave
by bus for Bulgaria.
- The protocol will never go for that.
- Look, here's the deal.
I shoot a music video for them and
they get us out of here. Incognito.
Forget about it.
- Don't you want to get your king home?
- Sure.
Perhaps we should
talk to the boss.
- Sire.
- Yes, I can not concentrate.
Please.
The coincidence between
universes and the kingdom...
The dysfunction
of nature and man...
This yearning for independence
devise every age, doesn't it, Mr. Lloyd?
It brought our kingdom to life in 1830
and may now cause its fall.
But what is the true nature
of this independence?
This so-called freedom?
I have to find the way
to touch the people's heart.
What does your heart say, sire?
Carlos? Mr. Lloyd?
Look at that.
It's beautiful.
It comes from the solar storm.
Sire, there are no flights.
No, I understand, Carlos.
But we have an escape plan.
Explain yourself.
The Black Sea Sirens.
The Black Sea... what?
And action.
No action!
Ladies, please.
Take two.
Sire, I can not take the
responsibility of this farce.
I understand, Ludovic.
But focus now on your femininity.
- It is madness. We can not do it.
- I agree, but it was decided.
We have no other choice.
It is now or never.
But sire, we can not leave
without protocol and security.
In fact, sire, it is undeniable
that there are dangers.
- The dangers are always everywhere.
- But Mr. Lloyd will not come with us.
Mr. Lloyd is the architect
of our escape, Louise.
- He is very creative.
- Mr. Lloyd comes with us, with his camera.
We will capture our journey
back home for the people.
Point final.
What do we do with the Atomium?
Mr. Lloyd?
Go, go, go.
To be honest with you, I didn't
expect the king to go for my plan.
But we really needed to get out of Turkey
and back into the EU.
So here are all us with a king in drag
who was pondering the nature of freedom.
Please, do you really
have to do it right now?
Yeah, I have to, I'm itchy.
It's unbearable.
I'm almost done.
But what is it?
Maybe it's the shock
of the news.
The secession of Wallonia.
Think about how it feels.
Do you know that we have many
French words in Bulgarian?
- Yes?
- Yes, like...
Lift.
Bidet.
I want to show you Mascia,
Ivana and Pavlina.
This is my three daughters.
- Three daddies.
- Stay silent, Ana.
Do you have children?
No.
It's okay. You have time.
You are a man.
From Istanbul. It's better quality
than Bulgarian. I keep it.
- Look, she ate a coin.
- A coin?
Yep.
Kebab accident.
Border!
Hurry, hurry.
Be like a woman.
As the border guard approached,
I did some real heavy sweating.
I had dark visions of being locked up,
stripped naked.
My camera confiscated.
This hadn't before, my dear.
Luckily, our clandestine border crossing
coincided with another drama.
Sorry, Nicolas, but we have
some identity crisis.
- Crisis?
- We do not agree on anything.
Nothing. Nothing.
The old generation wants tradition
and we want fusion.
In Istanbul we were supposed
to be on television.
For the first time in many years.
Stupid storm.
But Mr. Lloyd here will
make a music video.
Yes, I hope so.
That first take was actually
just for fun.
I guess they just had
to get out of their system.
The real song for the music
video is a cosmic classic.
So, Mr. Lloyd, is this the
extent of the escape plan?
- Miss?
- Ana.
Ana, yes, could you inform us
about transportation?
Yes, Sofia is that way.
Thank you.
A taxi? Maybe a bus
or something?
Not so much. Maybe tomorrow.
Tomorrow? And what about that car?
Is it possible to buy that car?
No, no. It's too old.
It's not working for many years.
The Black Sea Sirens were headed
to the right to the Black Sea.
We needed to go left
to Sofia.
Ana just happened to live
at that crossroads.
My mama will help you
find a solution.
- Hello.
- She'll take you.
- Thank you.
- Come, come.
Sit, you are welcome.
Nicolas?
Sauces for kebab.
Maison. I made it.
It's nice.
This is yogurt with...
some kind of... like this one.
- Yes, dille.
- Dille?
- Yes, dille. You say...
- Dille. It's very good sauce.
This is mayonnaise.
This is some vinaigrette with...
- With garlic.
- Oh, yes.
And this is lyutenitsa.
It looks like ketchup,
but it's natural.
Do you want to try?
Me?
Mr. Lloyd?
What?
Oh my god.
It's mister Turkish security.
Christ.
I think he would have accompanied
us to Sofia's embassy.
Absolutely not. The escape of the king
would be a humiliation for the Turks.
It could cause a
diplomatic incident.
Mr. Bulet would bring us back to
Istanbul to overthrow the scandal.
Let's go home.
In an ambulance.
Ludovic, we have to stop
shooting right away.
- Mr. Lloyd, that's enough.
- Louise, please, Duncan films our journey.
Ludovic?
- Sire?
- I would like to drive myself.
Excuse me?
You heard me well.
Given the circumstances for
insurance and safety reasons.
I think it's better
that I handle all your movements.
Ludovic, let him drive.
- I don't want interferences from the waiter.
- Ludovic.
The clutch does not work well.
Do not stay in the first gear,
sire.
- I'm in the third, Ludovic.
- Excuse me.
Death by turtle,
not a way to go.
His royal reflexes
spared the fellow.
But our vehicle had
bitten the dust.
So here we were.
In the middle of Bulgarian nowhere.
No maps, no phones,
not a soul in sight.
Just the sky watching us.
My dear fellow citizens.
In these difficult times...
or foreign...
and under this mysterious sky...
we must be humble.
I like it.
I have to address myself
more to the people.
Yeah, maybe.
Since when do you advise
the king, Carlos?
Since he asks for my opinion?
My dear Carlos.
I have three university degrees and
three positions as an ambassador
and almost nine years in service of the
king, let me please advise the king.
Mr. Moreau.
I have my helicopter license.
I was scout chief for five years.
And I can stay under watar
for three minutes.
I see that Belgium's suffering
is the least of your worries.
Well, enough being envy.
Let's go.
Mr. Lloyd, enough waiting.
Let's go.
What do you think, Ludovic?
Do you have any suggestions?
No, that's fine, sire.
I think linking heaven to the present
situation of our country...
It's a good comparison.
It's not too much...
How do we say that?
- We continue?
- Sure.
- So, Louise, who's the lucky guy?
- Pardon?
The ring.
If you really want to know it.
It's Pierre-Armand.
Let me guess. French and you've
known him from law school, right?
- Did you dig around into my past?
- It's all online, darling.
- So, tell me about this Pierre-Antoine?
- No, Pierre-Armand.
- And I'm not your darling, Mr. Loyd.
- Just call me Duncan.
Give me that.
Hey, stop.
We have to go to Sofia.
- Sofia?
- Yes.
- I'll help you.
- We can go?
Let's go.
- I'm Nicolas.
- Nicolas?
- I am Yuri Angelou.
- Angelou.
- Angelou like angel.
- Like angel.
Let's go, but be careful
with my babies.
Wait.
Slow down.
All right?
An angel had come to our rescue,
wearing enough fruit for us all.
I moved to the countryside,
in nature, and I found myself.
- Now I am very strong, very strong.
- I see.
Touch.
They are melons.
I trust fruit.
Melons?
And so on...
Through out the night,
the king and the angel
muzed about the business
of watermelons,
about the future of Europe
and the nature of happiness.
And now?
We will find a way to arrive
at the next embassy in Belgrade.
First we find a bathroom.
Personally, I really need to
recharge the batteries.
What we really need now is food.
- What do you want, Louise?
- All fine, come you wish, sire.
- Kebab is fine for you?
- Perfect.
- Your Majesty. Good morning.
- Mr. Bulet.
Mr Moreau, I recommend
you all eat quickly.
I'm here to escort you
back to Istanbul.
Excuse me, but an escort to Brussels
would be more appreciated.
Mr Moreau, let's avoid
an unnecessary scandal.
Mr. Bulut, I believe that you are
beyond your jurisdiction.
A royal on the round is not going to
jeopardize Turkey joining Europe.
- I understand your concerns...
- And I do not intend to lose my job now,
after thirty years
of loyal service.
This doesn't concern you,
Bulgarian people.
Back. Back.
Louise!
Come on, let's go!
- What is going on?
- The Turks!
Our suitcases!
Ludovic, the passports?
I have the passports with me!
Where is your house?
My house is in Belgium.
In Belgium.
Brussels.
And your house?
Where is your house?
- Sofia.
- Sofia?
Yes, we are from Sofia.
This means we are more
or less in this region.
We left somewhere here.
I see, we are headed there, we are
not far from the Serbian border.
Mr. Lloyd?
Mr. Lloyd?
- It seems we're with the jury.
- A jury?
A jury, yes, a yogurt jury.
We have to go.
We have to go now.
I am sorry, but...
Okay.
Okay, okay.
- Okay, no problem.
- Thank you for everything...
- It was very nice.
- No problem.
- Don't worry.
- No, no...
Be happy,
we support you.
- Goodbye everybody, ladies and gentlemen.
- Thanks for everything.
Thank you for the bus.
Nicolas.
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
Thank you.
I have to go.
I have to go back to Brussels.
Bye-bye Victoria.
So you are the mayor of
this nice beautiful town?
Well, I have no other option,
so I'm the mayor.
It is a big responsibility because
I love these people and I care for them.
I want...
they, to be happy.
It is very difficult to understand
what the happiness is.
It's not conditional. You can not say
I will be happy if I have this...
When you say if,
you are not happy already.
That's why here we're all
happy without if.
I heard from somebody here
in this beautiful village
that you were a stuntman.
Yeah, I was stuntman, stunt coordinator,
but this is one of my professions.
I'm black belt in karate and
fourth degree of Shotokan.
I have...
I'm a scuba diving instructor.
I am the first Bulgarian
to swim the English Channel.
You know where is the English Channel?
Between England and France.
But I... I never saw
a mayor barefoot.
Once in a while, when
I go in the capital.
I put sandals or shoes.
But I go barefoot in the winter also,
even in the snow and rain.
The feet are very far from my head
so I don't have to think about it.
- Thank you, thank you very much, Mr. Mayor.
- Thank you for your hospitality.
- Thank you and God bless you.
- Thank you very much.
This was...
Belgian television in Bulgaria.
Carlos?
Sire?
Do you believe in
the kingdom?
I believe in you.
As a person.
I mean...
the institution
that unites people.
Louise?
Do you believe
in the monarchy?
For me it is not a question of
believing but of respecting it, sire.
Is it your personal opinion?
Yes, it is my personal opinion.
Ludovic?
What do you think?
The monarchy...
is the highest expression
of dignity...
of grace...
of great ideas!
The coincidence of the
universe and the kingdom...
The dysfunction of nature...
If you let me, sire.
We will have to present it
to the Prime Minister because...
We do not have the time.
- We will have a little while we return.
- Yes, but...
as soon as we arrive...
The Prime Minister
will never accept it
without consulting him.
Yes, but the Prime Minister...
I hear things...
It's strange, this experience
is like...
like a gift.
Here, among the people.
I understand, sire.
They're so welcoming and open,
and...
Here people do not have much.
They don't have much here.
And it's even...
That must be the Serbian border.
You better leave this for me.
Sire?
You really don't want protocol
to slow us down, do you?
No protocol, Ludovic.
Carlos, take the camera.
- Hello.
- Passports, please.
Good morning.
- So, are your Serbian phones working?
- No phones.
- What's really the welcome concert?
- It's Serbia's dance campaign.
The government wants foreigners to have
a positive image of Serbia.
Go for a walk.
You look so familiar.
It looks like Miss Serbia 2005.
2006 actually, and only for one month
because Miss selection was in May
and in June Montenegro
declared its independence.
And since I am from Montenegro, they gave
the title to Serb from Serbia. Bitch.
I remember this story.
But then Belgrade got tired of this
affair and they gave me this job.
Well, that's not exactly a happy
ending, is it?
Make no mistake, Mr. Duncan Lloyd.
This is a very interesting job.
- Enjoy swinging Serbia.
- Thank you, I will.
Bye.
Goodbye.
Unbelievable, I honestly
recognized that.
The Finns.
- The capital of the Falklands?
- Stanley.
The first country to
adopt Christianity?
Armenia.
The first atheist state?
- No idea.
- Albania.
Does he make you happy?
Does the camera make you feel entitled
to dig into other people's lives?
It depends.
And to what greater purpose?
The pursuit of beauty.
And truth.
- Okay, give me that.
- Why?
- The camera, give it to me.
- No way.
- Yes you are.
- Not gonna happen.
Come on. Give it to me.
So Mr. Duncan Lloyd.
- Are you ever serious?
- Only when I can't breathe.
Did you really recognize
that border guard?
I did a story on Balkan beauties
a while back.
- How come you speak some Serbian?
- I spent some time here during the war.
We have a problem.
- It must be from the civil war.
- No, there were floods.
Do you see all these
locked woods there?
Water has passed.
A nice nuisance.
This is not a scene about
a broken bridge.
It's a scene about a
very different obstacle.
One involving myself and
my troubled past.
Duncan!
Duncan Lloyd!
It's me! Dragan!
Oh my god.
What the hell are you
doing here, man?
Me?
What the hell are you doing
here in my Serbia?
Take the camera and shoot.
- Dragan, my brother.
- Dunken Dunc.
My friend.
- You've lost all your hair.
- Yes, all I have.
- Your beautiful hair.
- But you found your stomach.
Oh, my friend.
My crazy brother.
- Who are all these people?
- My team.
Nicky, the sound man.
Carlos, my camera assistant.
Our producer, Ludo.
- And Louise, my assistant.
- Hi.
Guys, this is a very special
man and a very dear friend.
What are you doing here?
We are making an item on
Turkey joining Europe.
Excuse me, are your phones
working here in Serbia?
- Where is she from?
- From Belgium.
Belgium? Maybe you don't know
your country is broken.
- Yes, we know it.
- So pity.
Heart of United Europe and you can
not keep your mini-country together.
Your country is not a fine
example either.
- Just ignore her, Dragan.
- She is right. I like her.
Well, we are true stuff of
mythology, Lady Louise.
Balkan is the Balkan.
We love. We hate.
We love.
Dragan the hawk they called him.
I made a film about him,
called Sharpshooter.
He was a champion at
the Sarajevo Olympics.
Then he became a sniper
during the siege of Sarajevo.
That's where I met him while I
was embedded with the Serbs.
- Are you serious?
- What?
- A sniper.
- A sniper?
So...
- What's the plan?
- Just keep it simple.
Simple? What? Can you define
keep it simple?
Just don't blow our cover. A royal would
fetch a pretty ransom around here.
- I do not want to go.
- Don't worry. We eat, we go.
I'm not hungry.
I'm not going.
So there I was, facing two
of my darkest demons.
Dragan the hawk and Rakia,
the lubricant of the Balkans.
Cheers.
We have said it more than once.
More than once.
A million times.
But you know what?
Now...
Now you can make documentary
part two.
Can you say something, please?
Thank you.
Thanks, Nicky.
Dragan, how would you
describe your life?
Well...
Everything happens on a different
way, you know.
Nothing was like I
wanted it to be.
You are the only one
who maybe knows that is true.
But now I am just looking...
to live without pain.
And it would be
enough for me now.
Describe the pain?
Don't ask me that, please.
Remember Sharpshooter?
Of course I remember.
We went through the whole war,
you and I.
Remember when you called me
and you told me not to release it?
- Why do you ask me if I remember?
- Why did you not want the film to be released?
Well, what do you think of the fact
that I didn't do it?
It would have launched my career,
and I listened to you.
And I didn't release it.
You... You just simply...
did something what nobody
else would do.
And I really...
I really can not believe
what you have done.
All right, I admit it.
I tried to squeeze a release out of Dragan
but never had a chance.
My film Sharpshooter will
never see the light of day.
But the king that listened
carefully to every single word.
- You don't like it?
- Yes, I like it.
That's just the beginning.
Try again.
- Drink rakia.
- He does not like it.
You have to do it fast. Look at
me, please, my friend. Look.
Do it, do it, do it, and after
that you will feel better.
- You don't like it?
- Yes, it's very good.
And then country is 'ciao'.
Belgium, your country,
ciao.
- Half and half, or...
- Maybe, maybe.
And what... What is your opinion?
Is Turkey closer to Europe?
- I think so. I think it's...
- And us? You don't want us.
- You want Turkey, right?
- No, also, also...
- But how? And when?
- It depends...
We've heard this
bullshit for centuries.
Well, a decade, okay?
And it never happened.
We gonna cut
this nice Serbian pig.
So, Lady Louise, a present for you.
This is a small... you know.
- What is the word?
- Tail.
- Do you want to try?
- No, thank you.
But you have never tried this.
Try, try, try.
- You never tried.
- It's delicious.
You have to taste it.
It's...
- Just try.
- Thank you very much, but...
She doesn't like the tail.
My dear friend.
Go straight and then left.
Right, right, sorry. Right.
Nice guy, huh?
Oh, fuck.
Louise?
Is this your own version
of the odyssey?
Just take, take and take,
won't you, Mr. Lloyd?
To what greater purpose?
- Good morning, Ludovic.
- My jacket.
- What?
- My jacket.
- What?
- The passports? I left my jacket.
- What did you just say about passports?
- I had the jacket when I was at the table.
You left your passports there?
I'm sorry, sire.
- We forgot our passports there.
- Excuse me?
Christ, now they will know
we lied all night long.
- You were drinking all night long.
- Look, we have to get off this road.
And out of the Balkans.
Believe me when I say...
You do not want
to piss this guy off.
I can guarantee you that
he will be hot on our heels.
So, now we have a crazy
Turk and a crazy Serb chasing us?
OK, the quickest way out is
to the coast and then to Italy.
But it's another border.
Montenegro.
OK, let's go.
I drive.
Sire?
Ludovic?
I am very ashamed.
I know.
I have to resign.
No, Ludovic.
You served me well,
I count on you.
I failed completely.
No, not at all.
Sire.
Here is the border.
That was the border, sire.
Yes, I know.
I'm sorry about last night.
That's okay.
Can I ask you something,
Mr. Lloyd?
Of course.
Why did you never show
the film Sharpshooter to anyone?
Dragan, he asked me not to.
And why?
He believes that the dark side
of the moon should never see the light.
And do you believe that?
No.
But the film, if I released it,
that would have destroyed them.
- One more question, Mr. Lloyd.
- Of course.
Did you film the finger?
Goodbye.
This boat is scrap.
It's impossible.
It was not in the water
for centuries.
What a scam.
I already have sea sickness.
They had no passports and no cash,
so I bought us a boat.
Not a very good one.
Are there no ferries?
Are you sure you asked?
Yes, we asked yesterday.
- It is not possible.
- It's better than it looks.
The wood is rotten.
Look at how the wood is reduced.
Have faith.
We have no choice.
- Crossing the Adriatic on this?
- You do not have to continue complaining.
I'm not complaining.
I'm realist.
- Mr. Moreau?
- Yes.
The palace will reimburse me
for the boat, won't they?
- Yes, of course, Mr. Lloyd.
- That was all the money I had left.
The west is from that side.
At sea, the most direct route
is always a curve, sire.
So tell me, does Belgium
still have a future?
I mean, why split a peanut?
Diplomacy and courage
must lead us to
compromise, Mr. Lloyd.
Maybe we just split it.
The Wallons say they are fed up.
- Are you fed up, Mr. Moreau?
- I'm fed up with...
simplicity and clich.
Carlos, get me a popular clich.
Walloons are lazy, profiteers.
- And Mr. Moreau?
- The Flemish are arrogant.
- He didn't understand you.
- The Flemish are arrogant.
Can we look at the bright side?
Is there a positive clich?
Walloons are warmer.
You know, warmer persons.
Flemish are a little bit more,
perhaps...
inventive, innovative.
That sounds like the old clich
between northern and southern Europe.
- Like Germany and Greece.
- You have a point, Mr. Lloyd.
It's like Belgium is a button that
keeps the two sides of a shirt together.
Please, sire, come back.
Be reasonable.
There he is, King of the Belgians,
end up be in a bath.
- Is it not too cold?
- No, it's perfect.
Happy without all the if's.
Come on, Ludovic, it's fantastic.
A king whose kingdom
collapsed...
A king who wanted
to go home...
to his country...
searching for the right words.
I feel.
I taste.
I smell.
I see.
All my senses are amplified.
I feel reborn.
Good morning!
We arrived!
Here we are!
Good morning!
Don't we take a good coffee?
Good morning.
I am thirsty.
Next up there, Carlos.
That will be
the local authorities.
Good morning gentlemen.
We came from the Balkans.
This is the King of Belgium.
We are a diplomatic mission.
Excuse me?
He is Albanian.
You do not speak Italian?
We are in Albania.
How in Albania?
- I do not believe it. Are you sure?
- Yes.
Let's go down and
ask for a phone.
- Carlos, what happened?
- I guess it was the streams.
- How the streams?
- There are so many wave streams at sea.
Well, then we go down.
We went to Montenegro.
There we bought a boat.
The sea was were we needed to be.
No, excuse me, Italy.
The Albanian port master was not
impressed. He smoked a dozen
while Ludovic tried to make
his case, but nothing doing.
- We were just a bunch from Balochistan.
- Can I just have a glass of water?
Please, drink.
Passports?
Yes, I know, but
if we had the passports,
you would understand who we are.
Once again, this man here is our king,
Nicolas III, King of the Belgians.
What will we do about our king?
What does the Queen
want us to capture?
His vitality...
and his spontaneity?
And the smiles.
And the smiles.
We need an official
version of this story.
Why not the truth?
Hello?
Her Majesty?
What a relief to hear your voice.
Yes, he is here,
right next to me.
No, I mean, that's right...
There is Mr. Moreau over here.
I will transfer you.
Hello? Her Majesty?
Yes... Yes, we're fine.
And you? I mean, the kingdom?
The political situation?
Yes, I understand.
The king is very fine.
We have a small problem.
Yes, you too, I imagine.
Excuse me to stop you...
No, we are not in Istanbul.
In Albania.
We are in Albania.
Yes, like Mother Teresa.
In prison, Her Majesty.
Yes, okay.
Yes, see you, Her Majesty.
- Why did you tell her about the prison?
- I did not want to invent a story.
The Chief of Cabinet will
call you to this number.
And then we'll call the guards.
Now I'm off,
if you don't mind.
Thank you very much.
- She does not answer.
- Wait.
I do not want to wait.
First you must contact...
It's ringing.
Yes, we are healthy and safe...
Did anyone explain it to you?
Can you contact the
embassy in Albania?
Go call the guards.
Sir?
Sir?
Ludovic and Louise were
being sucked back into protocol.
Meanwhile the poor fellow was
being turned into a puppet once again.
Sire, here's a clean shirt.
I understand.
Agree.
Goodbye.
Mr. Lloyd, the palace
has canceled Our King.
Sire?
The palace has
canceled Our King.
Ludovic, we are the palace.
Anything he has filmed
will be censored.
I'm sorry, Mr. Lloyd.
Well, that was the end of that.
His story and my film
will never see the light of day.
Once again, my footage was
being shut down and shelved forever.
I couldn't blame him really.
After all, a king can't control
his own destiny.
Or so I thought.
Yes, that's fine, but we have
to agree with Turkish security.
Yes, our versions must coincide.
Nobody knows.
Well, no one knew about
the king's identity.
All right. Goodbye.
Sire, I have the official
version proposed by the palace.
We left Istanbul yesterday,
accompanied by Turkish security.
And our escape in the
Balkans has never happened.
Mr. Duncan Lloyd?
I, King Nicolas III,
King of the Belgians...
hereby authorize you
to do whatever you want
with all the images and sounds
that you've captured since our day
in Mini Europe.
All pictures, sire?
Yes.
Are you sure?
Very good.
Your Majesty.
Do you think this journey is
due to coincidence or destiny?
It has to be destiny.
There must be something
more than just coincidence.
What do you fear most?
To be just...
a passenger.
Do you think your
kingdom has a future?
Yes.
Why?
Because...
I'm the king.