Night Train to Lisbon

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~ Night Train to Lisbon (2013) ~

That will make you think.

Based on the novel

"Night Train to Lisbon"

by Pascal Mercier

(Bern, Switzerland)

Stay there!

Thank you.

May I walk with you?

Fine.

- Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.

- Good morning, sir!

We have a visitor,

this morning.

Your coat...

Have a seat there.

I am afraid there is a

slight mishap on the way here...

I think the corrections

would still be legible.

Max, would you...

do the honors?

More work require there...

No opportunity

to honor and respect yourself.

But Marcus Aurelius was worth

philosopher and an emperor.

There's no coincidence,

that was the way with the Romans.

Thought and action were all one.

I think we were

chapter 12, page 42.

Natalie,

perhaps you da... begin?

"How can it be that the Gods...

overlooked this alone,

that some lost men...

and those very good men,

who have had the most... "

"into the course with the divine."

Uh, just keep on going.

"If it is so that we live

only a small part of the life

which is within us,"

" what happens to the rest?"

Hello, Mr. Gregorius.

I am afraid your book on

Persian grammar has yet to arrive.

Uh no, that's not why I came...

Do you know that book?

Indeed,

I sold it to someone yesterday.

A woman?

Yes. She came in, asked

for the Portuguese section

from this book.

Sat there.

Read it for an hour or so

then became rather upset.

Paid for the book and left...

How did you come by?

I found it.

Beautiful title.

"UM OURIVES DAS PALAVRAS"

"A Goldsmith of Words."

Train tickets.

- Where to?

- Lisbon, eventually.

Leaving in 15 minutes.

- Thank you.

- She was wearing that coat!

Attention please.

Line 10 on platform 8

is now leaving...

What is all this noise?

- Where is Mr. Gregorius?

- He left, Mr. Kagi.

He left?

There was a woman with him here.

Impossible.

"We live here and now."

"Everything before

and in other places is past."

"Mostly forgotten."

Hello.

Uh, this is Mr. Kagi.

Where are you?

- On a train.

- A train?

- Where to?

- Lisbon.

Would you take care of my books?

I left them on my desk.

"What could,

what should be done..."

"with all the time

that lies ahead of us,"

"open and unshaped,"

"feather-light in its freedom..."

"and lead-heavy in its uncertainty?"

"Is it a wish?"

"Dream like and nostalgic,"

"to stand once again

at that point in life..."

"and be able to take a

completely different direction..."

"to the one which has

made us who we are?"

Do you have a room?

- Where is your luggage?

- I don't have any.

I will trust you

and give you a room.

With a view of the sea.

There. The sea.

- Anything else, sir?

- Yes

I wanted to find the address

of the man who wrote this.

Thank you.

- Anything else?

- No, thank you.

Good morning,

I am looking for Amadeu de Prado.

One moment.

I believe you are

looking for my brother?

- Yes. Is the doctor in?

- Are you ill?

No, I'm...

I am reading this book.

I very much like to meet him.

What he writes

touches me very deeply.

You should come inside.

You may sit.

Some tea?

Red Assam is Amadeu's preference.

Thank you.

Tea, Clotilde.

This is Amadeu's favorite room.

It's beautiful room.

He has read everyone

of those books.

Does he still practice

as a doctor?

Where did you get it?

I came across it in Bern,

where I live.

Only a hundred were ever printed.

I have six copies left.

I often wonder where

the other 94 went.

Bern is in Switzerland,

is it not?

Yes.

And the book has traveled?...

That is a good thing.

- Has he written anything else?

- Nothing that has been published.

He wanted to be

a writer, a philosopher...

Then he decided

to become a doctor.

He didn't believe

people should be in pain.

- Is that him?

- That is our father

- He was a famous judge.

- So, I gather from the book.

He and Amadeu had a

rather complicated relationship.

"Consider from the standpoint of eternity

that rather loses its significance."

Yes.

- He often said that to Amadeu.

- Amadeu does not believe in eternity.

Unfortunately not.

I don't mean to pry, but...

may I ask

how your father died?

No. No, you may not.

If you want to see Amadeu...

you will find him

in Cemetery Prazeres.

"We leave something

of ourselves behind..."

"when we leave a place,..."

"we stay there,

even though we go away."

"And there are things in us..."

"that we can find again

only by going back there."

"We travel to our souls

when we go to a place..."

"that we have covered

a stretch of our life,..."

"no matter how brief

it may have been."

"But by travelling to ourselves,

we must confront our own loneliness.

"And isn't it so

that everything we do..."

"is done out of fear

of loneliness?"

"Isn't that why we renounce..."

"all the things we will regret

at the end of our life?

Excuse me. I am looking for

Amadeu de Almeida Prado.

- Prado.

- Thank you.

(In Portuguese)

"...When dictatorship is a fact,

revolution is a duty..."

Merda idiota! (Portuguese)

["F***ing idiot!"]

"Is it ultimately a

question of self-image,"

"the determining idea

one has made for oneself..."

"of what one has to have

accomplished and experienced..."

"so that one can approve of

the life one has lived?"

"If this is the case,"

"the fear of death

might be described..."

"as the fear of not being able to

become whom one planned to be."

"If the certainty befalls us

that it will..."

"never be achieved,

this wholeness,"

"we suddenly don't know

how to live the time..."

"that can no longer be

part of the whole life."

Better?

Or worse?

Better.

- You feel as if you wrote the book yourself?

- I would like to then.

Talks about everything

that preoccupying him for years.

Better? Or worse?

Worse.

Tell me one of these

beautiful sentences you read.

"The real director of life

is accident --"

"a director full of cruelty,"

"compassion and bewitching charm."

By accident, he means fate?

No, I think he means chance,

randomness chance.

Let's take a break,

rest your eyes for a moment.

You are a man

who does not sleep well.

- You can tell?

- The eyes reveal everything.

Look at these eyes.

Tell me what they reveal.

Melancholic, but hopeful.

Tire, but persistent.

Contradictory.

Why would his sister

pretend that he is still alive?

I have no idea.

Shall we resume?

So you met a woman in a red coat

who disappeared...

- ... and you just dropped everything?

- Then I read the book.

I would love to be able to do that,

just drop everything...

- You do that often?

- No, I never done anything like that before.

Best? Or worse?

Uh, better.

How does that feel?

You talk about seeing his feeling.

- Well, isn't it?

- I suppose it is.

- How clear is it? The image.

- Very clear.

And how about this?

Everything is in focus.

Sir, we have this

new one here...

"The decisive moment of life,"

"when its direction

changes forever,"

"are not always marked by

loud and shrill dramatics."

"In truth, the dramatic moments

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