In the Folds of the Flesh (Nelle pieghe della carne)

And then a sudden violent shock...

that left a deep impression on the mind...

and damaged it permanently...

He's cutting across the fields! He's getting away!

He's back on the road! Turn around!

He's hiding in the park! He's trapped!

Excuse me, lady.

We're looking for an escaped convict. He's hiding somewhere out here.

- He's a dangerous killer. - I've not seen anyone.

- But please, come in. - Thanks.

His motorbike.

He's not hiding in the ground, is he?

You've not seen anything?

There he is! Towards the sea!

Hey! Stop or I'll shoot!

You messed up, Pascal. Back to your cage.

Your holiday's not over. 10 years plus an escape attempt.

What has been remains.

Remains!

Embedded in the brain. Nestled in the folds of the flesh.

Distorted, it conditions and subconsciously impels you...

In the Folds of the Flesh

13 years later.

- Goodbye, Alex. - Good luck.

I'll see you tomorrow. Come and get me at ten.

Come here, Buck.

Look who it is! Faithful Lucille. It's been quite a while.

I'm Michel. Have I changed that much?

I almost didn't recognise you.

We haven't met since uncle Andre's accident.

But you're looking good. My compliments.

- Who's that? - That's Andre's daughter.

Falaise?

It's great to see you again.

I'm Michel, your cousin. I bet you don't remember me.

How could you? You were too little. It's been almost 13 years.

It doesn't matter, a cousin's always welcome.

- What brings you here? - Just passing through, I travel a lot.

For business, for pleasure.

When you get old family memories come back.

Hi! Your dog seems to have made itself at home.

What can l say? He takes after his master.

Come, Michel. This is my nephew.

Colin. He's become a man.

To your health, Andre.

Uncle Andre really was a great man.

Yes, but he had his ways.

You won't remember him, you were too young when he had the accident.

You can't have been much more than five or six.

He was 8 at the time.

It's true, little Colin was 8 years old.

Not much, but enough to remember how Andre...

Who had weathered storms of gigantic proportions,

- ended up drowning like an amateur. - Colin!

I won't allow you to talk about my father like that.

So sensitive, chatelaine.

What matters is that he left you all his money.

And we are always ready to kiss your feet.

Colin!

Poor Andre.

I told him the sea would get him sooner or later.

Right.

He liked to challenge it. Dominate it.

He was a sportsman, and we admired him.

Especially his daughter, Falaise.

But that sad morning...

A patrol boat spotted his unmanned vessel.

Perhaps the engine failed?

Perhaps it was a desperate attempt to swim to shore.

The sea was his idol, and it was his grave.

- Rest in peace. - Amen.

Spending all my life travelling, all I've done is collect weird things.

Look at this, I got it in Copenhagen at the sex fair,

amongst samples offetishes and erotic stimulants.

- It's a living jewel. - Try it, it tickles really gently.

It stimulates the appetite.

A female friend of mine went wild over it!

Put it in here, it will stimulate Kiki's appetite.

We have two vultures in the family, Kiki and Kioka.

Colin's always feeding them.

They like carrion, vertebrae, and sacred bones.

They're sophisticated.

To find enough bones to satiate those jaws you'd need a cemetery.

We have one.

I'd be curious to see it.

If you really want to, I'm ready.

Too kind.

There were some Roman graves here.

- No gold? - No, they'd already been looted.

- It's always the case. - True, I shall be buried naked.

I think l recognise that guy.

Aren't you hungry tonight? Are you protesting?

A hunger strike? What's wrong?

Why won't you eat?

Maybe an ancestor?

It's your dog, he must have found a lady friend.

He's very lucky with the ladies. If only l could say the same.

Don't give up hope, Michel. The night is young.

You might get the same chance.

A moonlight stroll?

How romantic.

Perhaps I'm interrupting? I'll retire.

Goodnight.

"Dear Derek, everything's fine, the coast is clear, come quickly.

"Hilton Hotel.

"London."

"Dear Derek, everything's fine, the coast is clear" What does it mean?

Who's Derek?

"Everything's fine". The fool...

Derek... I've never heard of him.

- But he could be... - Who?

No one. Just a crazy thought.

Give it to Kioka. She eats paper too.

She's an intellectual.

No...

We must send it. It's for the best.

This Derek knows Michel came here.

If he gets the letter, he won't suspect a thing when he arrives.

Then we can find out who he is, and what he wants.

And then...

Another feast for Kiki. I'll send it.

Hello, beasts.

You want some too?

Stupid!

Anyone around?

Who are you looking for?

- Are you the owner here? - Who are you?

- Cigarettes? - Well?

I'm Alex. Alex Bourdelaine.

It's a magnificent villa. Michel was right to blackmail you.

Where is he? We were supposed to meet at 10:00

He let me down. Have you hidden him?

In your bed, perhaps?

Who are you talking about?

About Michel.

And his dog.

Isn't this Buck's collar?

If Michel and I are friends, and Michel's your cousin...

We're practically related, right?

I don't think so. Michel received a call from London.

He had to leave urgently. We found a taxi for him.

He told us a friend would come looking for him.

He asked us to put him up. You need a light?

No, I don't smoke.

- But you collect cigarettes? - A habit, like women.

- In the meantime, please come in. - With pleasure.

But I warn you to be on guard, I'm a Casanova.

A terrible Don Juan. No one can resist me.

And with a beautiful woman I'm capable of anything.

But I won't disappoint you. I have special skills.

- Are you always like this? - It's stronger than me, I can't help it.

- Get out! - Colin!

We don't want any pretty boys in the way!

The big puppy's jealous.

Mr. Bourdelaine is staying with us.

He's my guest. Got it?

Even ifthe servants don't approve.

My compliments. You know what you want.

Always.

A robust appetite is a male quality, so the sun god said.

You sound educated. Are you a journalist?

No, I limit myself to living. It's hard enough.

He's a genius. The prototype artist.

He writes, sculpts, paints.

This is his.

And this, and that, and this other one.

No one translates and interprets Eliot and Lorca like him.

Right, Lucille?

I think he should be ashamed.

It all sounds rather saucy.

- Right, would you like to hear? - With pleasure.

You've got me curious.

We did this yesterday.

They found a way to stave off boredom.

Oh, Yes... My love....

Your mouth... Your mouth, my love...

It's a very sensitive device.

It even records the rustling of leaves.

That's some leaf!

A lovely woman invites you to madness.

And furtively crosses the room, naked.

Sorceress of soft music, like a gentle mist.

Within you... In your flesh, my love.

What trembling! What arms!

- What an endless sky! - My love, what a sky!

Garden of my agony.

The blood from your veins pours into my mouth...

And quenches my thirst forever.

To see you naked is to remember the Earth.

The threadbare Earth, limpid with bullies.

Your belly is a storm of roots.

Your lips are the dawn, livid with light.

Under the tepid roses ofthe bed, the dead moan.

Waiting in vain for the hot breath of love.

You fling away the covers...

lie back and offer yourself.

Waiting for the night to stir the throbbing which feeds your soul.

Lady...

It's wicked to upset the flow of art.

This is what you need now.