C.R.A.Z.Y.

4

As far as I can remember,

I've hated Christmas.

What does it say, Christian?

Gimme my car!

Christmas 1960

It should work.

Stop picking your nose.

It's working!

There we go.

Mine's not moving.

Gervais!

Han?

How are you feeling?

He's so cute! Look, kids.

It's your little brother!

- Baby Jesus! - Let me hold him.

Here you go.

He's beautiful.

Let me see!

Christmas 1966

Not only would my birthday always go unnoticed,

but it had to start with midnight mass.

Midnight mass is too long!

Go home and open your presents!

On the contrary, you're lucky to share his birthday.

That doesn't happen to just anyone.

It's special.

Hence the birthmark on your scalp. Hmm?

It's a sign of being gifted, you know.

At least, after mass,

there was the Christmas Eve party at Grandma's.

Hello, my beautiful Zac.

The only advantage to having one's birthday on Christmas

was getting a bigger present than everyone else.

He likes it, huh?

But I especially hated Christmas because I never got what I wanted.

Dammit.

It's what he wanted.

30? It's not up to him.

You want to turn him into a fairy?

- Stop it. He's only five! - He's almost six and looks seven.

- Oh, come on! - Never mind “come on.“

Now return it. Go on.

It would make you a laughingstock, son.

Daddy doesn't want that.

Daddy isn't trying to upset you.

He loves you far too much.

Hence the hockey game.

So he can play with you.

Go to sleep.

Mommy will have a nice surprise

for you soon.

- For my birthday? - No, after. You'll see.

Go to sleep.

What's a fairy?

Nothing.

Hogwash.

Go to sleep.

Idiot.

I knew very well what a fairy was.

I especially knew...

I didn't want to be one.

Want to play, Zac?

No.

Unlike my friends' fathers,

all of whom were ordinary and uninteresting,

mine was the best in the world.

He has Patsy Cline's, Buddy Rich's

and Aznavour's entire collections.

He fired a machine gun in the army.

Our secret side trips to Norm The King Of Fries

made me deliriously happy.

For a few precious moments, I was his favourite.

Take me

To the ends of the earth

Take me

To Wonderland

It seems to me

That misery

Would be borne more easily under the sun

Hi!

Hello.

- You didn't bring any back? - What?

Fries, you moron.

You can smell it a mile away.

We didn't have any fries.

Did we?

My three brothers were morons.

Starting with Christian,

the egghead,

who read constantly -

anything, anytime, anywhere, '

Antoine, the sports nut, a walking stink bomb',

- What're you looking at? - And Raymond,

my sworn enemy.

Get lost, you pisser.

Dad, Raymond called me a pussy!

Not a pussy, a pisser.

Kitchen.

I could understand him

being proud of Christian, or Antoine.

But Raymond?

Aren't you going to introduce us?

My dad.

- You're going out, Raymond? - The little bastard's a Casanova.

But he asked for more ironed toast!

Hi, pretty baby.

After nine months of prayer...

and superhuman feats...

the good Lord would finally give me...

Another boy?

What kind of lead you got in your pencil, Beaulieu?

What can I say? I have a surplus of male hormones.

- A surplus of hormones! - That's irrelevant.

He has to change positions

once in a while.

Yeah, well, I've tried that.

What can I say? Five boys - you take what you can get.

Come on, Zac.

You like my surprise?

Christmas 1967

Take me

To the ends of the earth

Take me

To Wonderland

It seems to me that misery

Would be borne more easily under the sun

Drop by sometime.

See? Look. Again.

Zac has a gift. I'm sure of it.

His colic stops whenever Zac holds him.

I'll go see Mrs. What's-her-name, the Tupperware lady.

She, too, has a gift.

She can staunch bleeding, heal burns and everything.

She'll tell us if he's gifted.

No. You've seen how he plays the drums.

A regular little Buddy Rich.

Music runs in his blood, I'm telling you. That's his gift.

He gets that from his old man.

Hi, pretty baby.

Mommy's little darling.

I can still remember the snow slowly melting on his face.

I had just turned seven and, unwittingly,

declared war to my father.

Are you crazy,

dammit?! What are you doing?!

Roll that window back up, you nitwit!

Do we have to tie you up?

Here, buckle up!

Christ.

Use your head, you nitwit.

Stop slurping, you pig! Don't be such a sissy!

Eleven bucks!

An imported collector's record.

You'll each reimburse me if the guilty party

doesn't come forward. I'm warning you.

I'll teach you to take responsibility for your actions,

dammit! - Gervais!

I didn't do it.

It was an accident.

Scoot, you three.

You'll not only pay for the record, but your lies, too.

I'll teach you, you'll see.

Go to your room!

He said it was an accident.

What in heaven's name did you do to him?

Zac. He's changed.

He's a crybaby, he dresses like a girl. It's not normal.

Get over it. It's you who's not normal.

He's a child, for God's sake. Let him be.

"What did I do to him"!

- The others weren't like that. - Each of them is different.

Zac is more gentle, that's all. More sensitive.

He's not gentler, he's softer.

God, please don't let me be soft.

And return my dad to his old self.

Shut up.

Use your head, you nitwit! Don't be such a sissy!

I did it on purpose.

I'll tell Dad, you pisser.

When will I stop wetting the bed? I've been asking him a long time.

Never mind - no harm done.

Hmm? You're not alone.

It'll stop eventually.

Keep praying. You'll see, Baby Jesus will hear you.

Especially you.

You were born on the same day.

Sweet dreams.

Big chimneys, huh?

Where are we going?

You'll see.

Careful.

Mrs. What's-her-name, the Tupperware lady,

had realized my mother's dream:

she had walked in Christ's footsteps.

Try to trust your feelings.

You can feel things others can't.

You mustn't fear it.

He's been blessed from on high, Mrs. Beaulieu.