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Scene two, take three.
-Set.
Three, two, one. Action!
THE NOISE OF ENGINES
My name is Pierre Fortier.
I started with Canada Customs when I turned 18.
It was my summer job when I was in university studying business administration,
and then when I graduated I stayed on full time.
I spent 16 years in cargo.
Since 2004, I've been posted to the land border.
They told me this was the best training for customs agents
but also the most demanding.
I'm expecting to enjoy this, but I'm also expecting to work hard.
Welcome Pierre.
My name is Myriam Jean.
I've been with Sylvie at the airport for the last 17 years.
I've never held a loaded weapon in my life.
I have no expectations about this course.
I'm Michael Duchesne.
I've worked at the land border for 8 years.
At home I have several guns of different calibers,
so I'm pretty comfortable with guns.
I've got a 12-gauge, a 22-gauge, a .30-06.
In handguns, I have a 38mm, 9mm,
among others.
Hello, my name is Laura Girouard.
I'm a university student in history
and I work for Customs part-time.
When I started five years ago, they gave me a shirt, pants, a stamp for passports
and that was it.
Now I have a bullet-proof vest,
pepper spray and a defensive baton hanging from my belt.
I'm a tax collector dressed up like a soldier.
Now they're asking me to fire a gun.
I really don't identify with the new values at Customs,
or those of the current government,
but I'm here to pay for my studies so I'll do what my employer asks me to do.
Okay, I'm not here to talk about politics.
I'm here to do a job.
But we can agree that things have changed, eh?
Before we'd never had two towers fall in New York.
Now, we know what that's like.
We hear about it all over the world.
Terrorist attacks have become part of our everyday life.
Here at the Canada Customs, we're just adjusting to what's going on in the world.
The world goes crackpot,
so we adjust.
Us here, it's not our intention to make anybody fail.
All we want to do
is give you the resources you need to successfully complete your training.
We know that arming customs agents is new and that it's not easy training.
But if you practice
and work hard to improve on the pointers your instructors will give you,
there's no one here who isn't capable of succeeding.
You are all customs officers
and we're convinced that with the training you will receive
you'll be able to leave here in 4 weeks with big smiles on your faces.
Alright?
I am a customs agent and you are under arrest.
Put your arms out perpendicular to your body.
Turn around.
What?
Me under arrest?
Come tell me that to my face Mr. Customs man!
C'mon!
Come tell me that to my face!
Come arrest me you little police wannabe!
Knife! Knife! Knife!
Drop the knife right now.
Drop the knife or I'm going to shoot you.
Drop the knife. There's a warrant for your arrest.
I am a peace officer, I have my gun pointed at you and I'm going to shoot.
Okay, okay. Fine. I'm dropping my knife.
But I'm not going to be arrested by some little rent-a-cop.
Come on!
Come at me! Get over here!
-Back away, ma'am. You are under arrest.
Back up now.
-That's all right.
I'm bending down.
I'm picking up my knife
and I'm coming at you. - Bang! Bang! Bang!
Good,
okay,
good,
yes,
good.
Reholster.
And how did you react?
I backed up behind my cover
to protect myself and give me some distance from the subject.
At the same time, I took out my gun and started firing.
The man was shot in the torso and quickly fell to the ground.
I advanced on the subject to grab his gun.
I emptied the magazine before putting it in my pants pocket.
Then I used my walkie to call the ambulance because the man had bullet wounds.
I handcuffed the subject
and waited for help.
End of report.
Okay.
Good work, Laura.
You were quick to react when the man took out his weapon
and you used the cover behind you very well.
I don't have much else to say.
It went well.
I would just give you one piece of advice for your mask that fogged up
during the exercise.
What happened is simple:
you're nervous in the simulation,
you're not used to the mask, so it gets fogged up really fast.
If you don't want that to happen again, you need to get used to the mask.
When you're alone in your dorm at night, wear your mask.
We told you this.
Wear it when you're watching tv.
Get used to forgetting it's there.
Okay?
Yes.
Okay, thanks.
...that you had a consensual sexual encounter with Ms. Laura Girouard,
and that, during this encounter, Ms. Girouard was wearing her protective mask
and then, at some point, you realized that she was no longer conscious.
So, seeing that you started CPR and Ms. Girouard immediately regained consciousness.
Then, paramedics arrived and took charge of Ms. Girouard.
It's at this point that we became aware of the situation
from the paramedic's report.
Is that right?
Do you confirm that this is what took place?
Regarding your reaction, you were exemplary, Alexandre.
Ms. Girouard had a serious asthma attack
and that's why she stopped breathing.
Your instant reaction probably, or certainly, saved her life.
You spent the night at her bedside, and she is now in stable condition.
She is expected to be discharged in the next 24 hours.
Ms. Girouard has some bruised ribs because of the cardiac massage.
But that is normal.
We're told that this is always the case with CPR.
Now, as the director of this college, I would like some reassurance
as to your state of mental and physical health.
The mask and the leather gloves
Ms. Girouard was wearing during your sexual encounter are objects frequently used
in sexual practices in fetish and BDSM circles.
Your work as a firearms instructor
demands mental equilibrium at all times,
and for this reason I requested that we shine
a light on any potential sexual deviance on your part.
An internal investigation, not exhaustive, was conducted
to learn more about your sexual practices.
The results allowed us to reject the hypothesis of sexual deviance
because none of the sexual partners we spoke with
mentioned any unusual sexual practices.
It's reasonable to say that one time is not customary,
and that exploring one's sexuality is part of the
natural development of all human beings.
For example,
my husband and I have an open relationship.
Sex is one of the great pleasures of life and
one way to fully enjoy these pleasures is to open
oneself to the different experiences others can bring us.
No, I'm not interested in sleeping with you and husband, Madame Director.
This investigation revealed that you had a minimum of 7 sexual partners
in the year at the college.
Without being alarmist,
that number demonstrates a certain interest in the pleasures of the flesh, but also,
which seems to me more problematic, compulsive sexual behaviour.
This sexual behaviour could eventually have negative social effects.
Last night's events are probably the first manifestation of your hypersexuality.
As a preventive measure,
you are being placed on leave without pay for a period of 10 days
in order for you to correct your inappropriate sexual conduct.
Seven sexual partners
in one year,
leather gloves
and a helmet
make me a sex addict.
-Inappropriate sexu- -Inappropriate sexual conduct, yes.
You understand, ma'am, that everyone is screwing everyone in this college?
There's nothing else to do.
We're stuck in the middle of nowhere all alone.
So yeah,
Laura and I were sleeping together.
Everyone knew.
But since it's written on a piece of paper and because you had to read that paper
because it's in your job description...
I knew coming here this morning that I'd be punished.
And I know it's a delicate subject
and that I'm not supposed to sleep with a student...
But now you're telling me you conducted an investigation
on my sexual conduct
and concluded I have too much sex.
I don't know but your actions seems
really inappropriate, don't you think?
Mr. St-Germain will escort you to the station so you can go home and get better.
You'll take the time to read and fill out this guide provided by human resources.
Ok.
That's it, Vial.
Alexandre?
Hi mom.
What are you doing here?
I'm on vacation.
I thought I'd spend a little time here.
That's nice sweetie.
Are you hungry?
Do you want something to eat?
No.
Go back to sleep, mom.
Okay.
Good night.
Mom!
What did you do to my room?!?
What?
It's my house and I made it the way I like it.
Yeah, but it's my room.
I hate it, mom.
It's as if I was Jesus Christ.
Well, you're my only son and I'm proud of my son.
This is my house.
Okay, go back to bed, mom.
Good night.
Yes, mom?
Oh, nothing.
Nothing?
Perfect.
But how is it that you're on vacation?
I had two training sessions finish on Monday
and the next classes don't start before the end of next week.
I just decided not to go in.
Someone's going to cover for me.
You didn't give me any warning and you show up in the middle of the night...
I knew that you'd be here.
I could have been gone.
No, I knew you'd be here.
You have work to do.
I could have decided to leave.
Did you lose your job?
Mom!
You can tell me.
You don't have to be embarrassed.
It could happen to anyone.
Losing your job is a normal part of life.
No, mom! I didn't lose my job.
No one in the government ever loses their job.
If you're on time,
pay for your coffee every day and don't steal from the cafeteria,
there's no chance of being fired.
I was just asking.
Sure, but anyway I'm not going to spend
the rest of my life being a customs officer.
Maybe it would be a good thing for me to finally get canned.
Don't talk to me like that.
I'm your mother.
Look mom, I'm on vacation
for 14 days
to visit my mother.
It's been a long time and I'm happy to see you.
But you're still taking your vacation at Christmas, right?
Mom!
What is it this morning?
You're interrogating me.
I've been awake for five minutes.
Five minutes!
Give me a break!
I'm going to be here for two weeks.
I'm not going to run away.
You'll have all day to ask all your little questions.
But right now, that's enough.
I'm already fed up.
I know we have a lot to say to each other, and I'm happy you want
to tell me all your stories, but for right now,
this morning, I've had enough. I need some time to breathe.
Can I have five minutes to breathe, mom?
Is that okay?
I don't like seeing you like this.
It reminds me of your grandfather.
I don't want you to become like him.
Mr. Mastrogiuseppe, I'm Detective-Sergeant Letellier from the Quebec police
and this here is Sgt. Rémillard.
I have to say that I'm a surprised to find you here, Mr. Mastrogiuseppe.
Did you move back in town recently?
I'm a firearms instructor for Canada Customs.
I live in residence at the college, but I'm on vacation
and I decided to come give my mother a hand at the dragway.
Well,
I'll explain the reason
for our presence here today.
Last Sunday,
at the 11 o'clock mass in town,
an individual or group entered the church and stuck a series
of hand-made drawings to the inside door.
These drawings contained
close-ups of sex acts, masturbation,
anal and vaginal penetration,
between men and women,
between homosexuals.
As these drawings were stuck to the door where people exit the church,
they were seen be the entire congregation,
and you can understand that many were extremely offended by these explicit drawings.
Sure.
I'd bet it was some neighbourhood kids sick of living in a super boring town.
They should get in trouble,
but to get the police involved seems
pretty ridiculous.
You understand, Mr. Mastrogiuseppe, that anyone
who commits this type of infraction can be found guilty
of a criminal act punishable by up to two years in prison.
What was done here is not a joke.
Okay, Mister Sergeant of the Quebec police.
I really didn't think I'd find you here,
but since you are here, perhaps you might be able to shed some light on our...
on the issue we're having in town.
Here at the police we've been focusing on the pictures that were found in the church.
It turns out that several people
recognize you in these drawings.
What's more, you're the only person who has been identified in them.
It's a coincidence.
I don't know why my face is in them.
Indeed, and is it an even greater coincidence that you,
Alexandre Mastrogiuseppe, are here at this exact time
when the drawings appeared in town?
Sergeant,
I might be in the drawings,
but I have have nothing to do with them.
Let's make this clear.
The fact that my face shows up doesn't mean that you can
pin these fucking cartoons on me.
So pay very close attention to what you're saying,
because right now your logic seems fucking ridiculous.
No problem, Mr. Mastrogiuseppe.
Sgt. Rémillard and I will continue our investigation.
You have no intention of cooperating? Fine.
In any case, we, at the police, know how to do our job.
Alex,
everything okay?
It's fine.
This document, Mr. Mastrogiuseppe,
is for you to complete
to aid us in our investigation.
I'd advise you to begin by filling out the names and phone numbers of all the people
you've ever had a sexual encounter with.
You can also indicate the names of anyone who might have wanted
to have sex with you.
You'll see, the document is well done.
At the end, there's a section with questions that will help you
figure out any other information that could be useful for our investigation.
I would appreciate it, gentlemen, if we could avoid discussing this with my mother.
What we have discussed here will remain confidential.
Neither your mother nor anyone else
needs to know anything about this investigation.
That being said, word spreads pretty quickly.
We don't have much control over that.
Thank you very much, Mr. Mastrogiuseppe, for this discussion.
What did the pigs want?
The rich people from the golf course complained to the police again.
As usual.
It's a race track.
If they find it too loud, the fuckers can move away.
Excuse me!
Why isn't anyone racing?
A car punctured its oil pan, ma'am.
They're cleaning it up, but it'll be another 45 minutes to an hour.
Pardon me?
I thought that in French you say ma'am for a woman... You know, an old lady.
I'm surprised you'd call someone like me "ma'am."
No, you're right.
I should have said "miss."
That would have been more correct.
Yes,
I like "miss" better.
Now, you will show me your town?
Sorry?
Yes, I would like to see this place.
And all around the town.
You know, I came here for the time trials and now there are no time trials.
I'm here, I come from Hafnarfjdördur, Iceland to race and now
I'm waiting and doing nothing.
You are also waiting.
So, you will show me this place where you live.
I'm Aðalbjörg.
Alexandre.
Hey, wait!
Stop!
Look, I gotta tell you that there's nothing here.
There are farms,
fields,
and we're 45 kilometers from Montreal.
With the expansion of the suburbs, it's become a place to raise a family
while working in the city.
People haven't really chosen to live here.
It's their bank account that tells them this is all they can afford.
It's good to hear you talk about your home.
It's nice for the neighbours.
Normally my town doesn't really mean anything to anyone.
But when you meet a Quebecker for the first time in your life
and you say that you come from here, there's a good chance they've heard of it
because of the race track.
Even if they've never set foot here.
And this race track is yours.
Alexandre, you're king of the town.
The track is my mother's.
You're the prince of the town.
It's kind of like a Monopoly board here.
There are 2-3 families who own the main businesses in town.
And me, I'm part of the race track family.
I would like to see this place and this Monopoly game.
Maybe it sounds interesting if you put it like that,
but there's really nothing to see.
We'll find something.
So, this is the town's refinery.
A pretty interesting spot, I guess.
This tower is impressive.
It's the only place in North America that transforms naphthalene into moth balls.
People often say my town smells like mothballs.
It's strange that urban planners would choose to put this factory
in the middle of a residential neighbourhood.
There was no urban planning here.
It's North America.
The new world.
If you have money and you want to build something, we have the space for it.
Clearly.
It's definitely a strong odour.
Okay, well...
I didn't know they'd turned this into a parking lot.
What's the matter?
I used to play baseball here with my friends when I was a kid.
The kids who played baseball
now drive these trucks.
But where will they play baseball?
Nobody plays baseball anymore.
They probably play footy.
Soccer?
This is the most fertile soil in all of Quebec.
The famous black earth.
The floors of ancient lakes gave my area some of the highest quality soil.
These fields belonged to my grandfather.
My grandfather's father left Italy at the beginning of the 20th century
because he knew that he could own his own land here in America.
My grandfather and his brother also became farmers,
but no one kept it up.
The American dream ended there.
You are Italian?
My family name,
but not much else.
We're all a little from somewhere else, here.
We don't often have to look very far back to know where we come from.
HERE LIES NARCISSE GRÉGOIRE PATRIOT 1812-1838 This was my
great-great-great-grandfather's cousin, on my mother's side.
He was part of a revolutionary group called Les Patriotes.
Les Patriotes who died in combat were excommunicated and
no longer had the right to be buried in the cemetery with the other Christians.
People here speak French because at first it was a French colony.
The British took control in the 18th century,
but it didn't stop there.
Les Patriotes rebelled in the hope of gaining independence,
but those who spoke English always gained the upper hand.
I like remembering
that on November 4, 1838,
Robert Nelson,
the leader of the Republic of Lower Canada, was here, in my town, with his band of
Hunter Brothers armed with 250 rifles and with revolution in their hearts...
Not in Montreal.
Not in Quebec City. Not in Laval.
Here.
In my hometown.
That's something.
But
nowadays when people think of my hometown,
they think of a racetrack.
That's nice,
but I'd prefer if people could have this historic day in mind.
It is something to remember.
Amen.
Pronounced with an English accent?
On the grave of an excommunicated patriot.
That's in poor taste.
Indeed.
This is for you.
You're not coming to race?
No,
the car needs to be tuned.
Okay...
bye.
Yes,
we'll see each other again.
Mom!
Oh my god, Alexandre, come see!
It's your godfather Jean-Pierre's wedding.
My god, what we wore back then!
Come see!
I don't care, mom.
But come see his old mustache.
I already saw it.
Hello?
Hello.
Hello Alexandre.
I hope you are well.
Now you have to listen to my voice and do exactly as it says.
First, you will quietly leave your mother's basement.
It's dusty and it isn't very clean.
Like your godfather's old mustache.
Sorry, but your godfather wasn't the cleanest.
Once you leave the house,
you will walk north
and down near l'Acadie river.
Take the glass bottle stuck in the roots of the tree.
Fill it with river water.
Save this water.
It will be useful later.
Walk along the train tracks.
It will be a long walk.
You will have much further to go.
Further?
Farther?
You will go further?
You will go farther?
Are you supposed to say "You will have further to go?"
or "farther to go?"
Alexandre, you know that my first language is Icelandic and that I learned French
in high school?
I had a French teacher who demanded a lot of her students
and we learned the language well.
She was a woman who really loved French
and she showed us the films of Louis de Funès.
Watching movies is a really good way to learn a foreign language.
After Louis de Funès, I really got into French New Wave cinema.
From Quebec, I really enjoy the filmmaker, André Forcier.
I have my favourite lines from his films and the one I like most is
"Damn, the inn's garbage bins smell like love."
I find this line has a beautiful melancholy.
And you, Alexandre?
Do you have a favourite André Forcier film?
French is a difficult language.
But it isn't hard for me to learn languages.
I'm curious about languages and I studied them in university.
Since I already spoke Icelandic,
English, and French, it was a good subject for me.
But I only did one year of university.
I tried learning Ukrainian,
but I dropped out of school to race.
That's it.
I'm good at racing and languages.
That's everything.
I can't do math, or footy, or music... I don't know.
Maybe I'm lazy or selfish.
I do what I like.
Once you're near the little fire,
you can sprinkle it with the river water to lower the flame.
A light gray smoke will appear.
Hop!
My father was a drag racer in his youth.
In Hafnarjördur, a lot of racecar drivers train on the closed circuit.
It's the Formula 1 model.
But my father would only train on the drag strip.
He says
he doesn't want to slow down when he sees the curves.
He's the one who passed on his passion for speed
and I'm always very happy when I drag race.
It might seem strange,
but when I close my eyes and smell burnt tires,
I know that I'm at the racetrack
and I feel good.
When I close my eyes
and I hear the noise of engines accelerating,
I feel at home.
In my hometown.
It's cool that you're a racecar driver.
Your father was also a driver.
It's normal to follow in the footsteps of those who came before us.
It's not a weakness of spirit.
Yes,
I think it's a pretty traditional path.
You also follow your family's path.
And to my question, what's your answer?
I don't have a favourite André Forcier film.
I know. It's difficult to choose.
I've never seen any.
I've never heard of him.
You're lucky, little Alexandre.
I would like to be able to see André Forcier's films again for the first time.
Mr. Mastrogiuseppe!
Mr. Mastrogiuseppe. I was pretty surprised
when I saw you at the racetrack the other day,
but I'm a lot less surprised to run into you again so soon...
If my mother is starring in a new series of cartoons,
I don't want to see any more of your smut, fellas.
Actually, there is a new series of drawings.
Congratulations. You've got a knack for it.
But rest assured,
you're still the big star of these art works.
The investigation is moving forward...
How nice.
I'm happy for you, Sergeant.
That means you're doing your job.
Let me be frank with you, Alexandre.
We're at the point of no return.
From our side, we've got some information that's rather "problematic" for you...
It's important for you to understand that if after our last conversation,
you've thought about it and that there was something you wanted to tell us
or that you neglected to share,
that now is your last and only chance
to let us know.
With what we know,
some heavy repressive measures could be brought to bear on you
should you once more refuse to cooperate with our investigation.
I didn't forget anything
and I won't be intimidated by your threats.
I already told you
that I have nothing to do with these drawings,
and if you really think that you can pin this on me
for the pathetic reason that my face is in them,
then you're fucking kidding yourselves.
We've looked into you since our chance encounter the other day.
First, we learned that you have been a customs officer
since the age of 18 and for the last two years
you've worked as a firearms instructor.
However, we found it less of a "coincidence"
when we learned that you aren't actually on vacation like you told us.
Not only were you suspended by your employer,
but the reason for this suspension was, according to what we were told,
"inappropriate sexual conduct".
Inappropriate sexual conduct on one hand, and on the other,
a series of sexually explicit drawings putting you at center stage.
And this, Mr. Mastrogiuseppe,
you will again say is a coincidence?
I didn't tell you because it's my personal life.
It's not exactly something I'm shouting from the rooftops,
just like I didn't tell my mother when I arrived.
Imagine,
"Hey, mom, I'm back,
and by the way, at work they think I'm whipping my dick out left and right
and sticking it in any hole I can find."
Yeah, you're right.
I don't know why I wouldn't have mentioned it.
Okay.
And me, the investigator of this file, I'm supposed to just believe you?
And think that a sex-obsessed customs agent
and a bunch of drawings in which he's screwing anything that moves
have nothing to do with each other?
I gotta say,
I'd be pretty damn incompetent if that was my reasoning,
and you must think the police are a bunch of deluded wackos.
You do what you want.
You think you're so clever.
You don't want to cooperate.
But when the director of the college asked why I was calling about you,
I kept my mouth shut.
I didn't say anything.
Out of respect for you,
I didn't once open my trap about what's been going on in town since you arrived.
Let me tell you that she would certainly have been interested
to learn that her young sex addict was also appearing
in a bunch of drawings with his dick out.
But I didn't say anything because I was thinking of you
and your career.
Maybe I'm old school, but I still believe in respect between the different groups
who uphold the law.
We'll never be popular with civilians.
It's funny, because we're always the first ones to save them from their own shit.
But we'll never get
any gratitude from those people.
So that's why guys like you and me need to help each other when we can,
but above all,
show each other mutual respect.
They're pictures of me penetrating other men.
Yes.
Look closer and tell me if you recognize anyone else this time.
It's your colleague I'm penetrating.
Yes.
Yes, that's right. My colleague, Sgt. Rémillard,
has been drawn getting fucked in the ass by you.
And the other person getting it is me.
It's me you're sticking in the ass, you little shit.
You, you're getting a kick out of this.
You think you're real funny and that nothing can touch you.
Well, let me tell you, this is the last time that your drawings
are going to piss off the people in my town.
You police officers really are a bunch of assholes.
Here.
It's your tip.
I'd rather not touch your dirty money, you perv.
Mr. Mastrogiuseppe, how are you this morning?
Couldn't be better.
I'm concerned about your health, Mastrogiuseppe.
In fact, that's the reason for my visit.
Can you tell me how many sexual encounters you've had since your arrival?
I don't want to talk about it.
Answer, Mastrogiuseppe.
My authority compels you.
I haven't slept with anyone here.
Have you had frequent urges?
Normal.
Are you craving something new?
An encounter with a woman is what for you?
Stressful or always magical?
Neither.
Have you ever made love with a married couple?
No.
I can sense that you're curious.
You'd like to explore the concept and hope that we can discuss it some more.
No, I don't want to talk about that, Madame Director.
You should know, Alexandre,
that your future with the Canada Customs is at risk.
I have confidence in you,
but your actions will be evaluated
and your next decisions could have important repercussions on your
eventual return to work.
I'm staying at the motel with the orange roof.
Room 8.
Drop by and see me tonight.
It's me.
I burnt the kleinas.
I'm so disappointed, Alexandre.
The doughnuts were for you.
Hey, no.
I'm sure they're still good.
I'm so sorry.
I really wanted you to taste kleinas.
They're an Icelandic specialty.
It's okay,
we can use them as hockey pucks.
You know where we are, right?
Yes.
It's the basement at your grandparents'.
This is where you celebrated Christmas.
It's crazy how it hasn't changed.
It's true.
It goes back to the time when people didn't have tvs in their basements.
My grandparents moved into town after they sold their farm.
That's when they bought the race track.
Yes. Drag racing was my grandfather's dream.
It definitely wasn't my mother's.
You know I don't work at the race track, eh?
Yes, you work at the track, Alexandre.
No,
I work at the Canada Customs college, training customs officers to carry firearms.
When I was a teenager I worked at the track with my mother,
but at 18 she said I should try something else.
That I don't need to stick to the family business.
I actually liked working at the track,
but it also seemed important to see something else.
But, working for customs seems terribly dull as a job.
See, I come from a small town 15 minutes away from the border.
There aren't many summer jobs for students here.
There are two choices:
either you work at the zoo or the border.
My cousin got hired by the zoo,
and I got picked by the border.
On the first day of training, I asked the person next to me
what exactly our job was.
I thought I'd been hired to be a clerk or someone's assistant.
My future colleague told me that I was actually going to be a customs agent,
that I was going to search cars and collect taxes.
Right away I thought I should run the hell out of there.
I didn't want to be a customs agent because enforcing respect for the law
was never something that interested me.
There are kids who dream of becoming police officers so they can arrest criminals.
That's their thing, but even when I was a kid,
guns and beating people never appealed to me.
How long have you been away?
It's been two days.
I was placed in a group with 3 other trainees.
I had to practice being the agent questioning people entering Canada.
I had to learn the usual questions, ask for passports... Where do you live?
What are you bringing into Canada?
And then I needed to decide whether to refer travelers to be searched.
I was stupefied to discover that despite the fact that I possessed basically none
of the natural aptitudes needed to be a customs agent,
it had somehow been possible to train me to successfully do work
that was completely contrary to my values.
At the time I was studying film and literature in university.
My university life had nothing to do with customs,
but the regulars at work were also people who came from all different walks of life.
One colleague who studied law
told me that when he was a student,
he and his roommate were so poor that they spent a whole year eating
nothing but mac and cheese.
At the end of the year,
they put all their savings together and bought a chocolate bar.
Apparently, it was the best chocolate he'd ever had in his life.
I also got along with an agent who'd studied journalism.
She had been a columnist for the university newspaper
and was passionate about crosswords.
There was the one who always talked to me about sports:
hockey and American football.
I didn't know anything about football,
but it made him so happy to talk to me about it that I pretended that I did.
He was a walking sports encyclopedia.
I wonder what he's doing now that he's retired.
He must be memorizing every stat of every player of every team
of every league and university of every year.
Actually, I wasn't that different from him.
I was just an ordinary guy, and like him, I was a student who had been trained
to be a customs agent because I grew up two steps away
from the border between Canada and the United States.
A right-wing government came into power and they required that from
now on all customs agents be armed.
So they made me take firearms training in order to keep my student job.
That's what I did.
And when I finished, they offered to make me a firearms instructor at the college.
I accepted the job because it allowed me to leave my small town.
I've been doing this for two years,
and just like my very first days working for customs,
it's obvious to me that I'm not the right person for the job.
I lied to you when I said I didn't know the filmmaker, André Forcier.
Yes, I knew that you knew the films of André Forcier.
I watched practically all of his work
to write a paper in university on his film "Kalamazoo."
I lied because it allowed you to see me as someone who just works at the drag strip.
With just cars,
smoke,
and races.
Without having to explain anything
that would have required me
to admit to you the uncomfortable presence of customs in my life.
In the eyes of one person,
I could be who I really wanted to be.
It's been two years since I've set foot here.
Now I realize how much I've missed it.
This is where I belong.
I won't be going back to customs.
The call of speed and burnt tires.
Maybe.
Hmm.
One,
two,
fifteen, sixteen,
twenty-five!
I'm in town.
You are no longer in town, Mastrogiuseppe.
You'll go back where you came from.
I'm never going to see your face again.
Things will get back to normal
here.
THE NOISE OF ENGINES