Ararat

You can't bring this in.

That includes pomegranates.

It's on your form.

I like to eat the seeds of this fruit.

One each day, for luck.

I'm sorry. That's not allowed.

For security reasons,

please do not leave your bags unattended.

[ woman repeats message in French ]

What are you doing?

This way, I don't need to bring it in.

I eat it here at the gate of your country.

Look.

So I bring luck in my stomach.

Will you try?

: Raffi, the real point of this poem is that

the girlfriend is crazy.

"No," the girlfriend said angrily.

"I want your mother's heart!"

So the boy went and killed his mother.

You know what they say,

there's always a woman at the heart of it.

As he ran through the streets

with her heart in his hands, he tripped and fell.

His mother's heart cried out,

"My poor boy!

Did you hurt yourself?"

You know what?

I completely forgot she had a party.

I told you she-- The party's not the point.

The fact is, you make these physical appearances

without letting anybody know.

I mean, it makes perfect sense to me.

Why would I need to tell anyone?

Look, I'm not saying you need permission.

: Permission for what?

: Celia, just try and understand her point of view.

: Why can't I read her book?

Just wait till it comes out.

But you've read it.

Why not?

I'm part of the family.Look, I promised her that I...

What?

I wouldn't give you my copy.

Please.Celia, come on.

I'm making it hard for you to be the perfect son.

I'm sorry.

Just, I don't get why it has to be this way.

Yes, you do.

I was happier when you got along.

It wasn't as much fun.

Says who?

The ghost of the father.

My father, not yours.

Yours died like a hero.

Mine died in a stupid accident, according to her.

You look after your ghost, Raffi,

and I'll look after mine.

Did you give her my book?

This is too weird for me.

What is weird, Raffi?

Smoking pot,

or sleeping with your stepsister?

Look, I'm old enough to know--

What are you telling me, Raffi?

That this is all normal?

That she should continue to harass me?

Tell people that I'm responsible for her father's death?

No one asked her to come here.

She could have stayed in Montreal.

She needed us.

What she needs is to destroy me

the same way she thinks I destroyed him.

Mom--

She will never understand why I stopped loving her father.

Or for seeing someone else?

I'm not accountable to her.

I am.

Why?

Because I love her.

: That's a new twist to the story.

: Why do you need to call it a story?

Don't you have anything better to do at your age

than fall in love?

My age?

You were married at my age!

: Thank you.

Tony, like to say grace?

For what we're about to receive,

may the Lord make us truly grateful. Amen.

Amen.

Dad?

Yes?

Why didn't you say "amen?"

Well, I say it inside.

Inside where?

Inside my head.

Can God hear it inside your head?

What do you think, Dad?

God hears all your thoughts.

But you don't believe in God.

Grandpa, that's not really what happened.

See you.TONY: Bye, Grandpa.

Here's the situation, Dad.

Whenever Tony comes over alone, he's fine.

We play, he laughs, he's full of joy.

Whenever you're around, he becomes quiet and withdrawn,

and we can't stand it.That isn't true, Philip.

The more oppression you--Oppression?

He loves when I'm there.

The more you bring this heavy cloud into our apartment,

the more he believes that the way we live is wrong.

Now, I have never told him that.

You don't need to.

He can feel your disgust.

Philip...

And where did he get that Ali doesn't believe in God?

He asked me why your friend doesn't say grace with us.

My friend--I told him

he had his own God, and that's true.

Philip, I'm--

I'm trying really hard to accept all this.

I really am.

Dad.

You're retiring soon.

You're gonna have a lot of time on your hands.

Either you make an effort to change your attitude,

or you're not welcome at our place anymore.

Where are you coming from?

Turkey.

Can you open this?

What are these?

It's film. It's motion-picture film.

It's for a movie.

I have--

I have some stuff from...

This sort of thing is usually done through a bonder.

Well, they wanted me to handle it.

Who's "they"?

It's very valuable footage.

Can you open it?

Well, no.

It's exposed film. It'll destroy it.

Oh?

It's for a movie that's being shot here in Canada.

I had to go to Turkey to get some process shots.

Process shots?

Shots that'll be used for digital effects.

You know, plates, that sort of thing.

I don't understand.

We needed these scenes of hundreds of people

passing through these places,

and it's too expensive to take actors and extras

to the middle of nowhere,

so we shoot empty shots of location.

It's cheaper to add people in later on.

I'll be back.

[ shepherds shouting and whistling ]

[ villagers chattering in Armenian ]

Arshile Gorky remains one of

the most influential figures in modern art.

His most famous painting, The Artist and His Mother,

is based on a photograph that was taken in 1912.

The only image that exists

of the artist's early life in his native land.

Gorky is seen holding a bunch of small flowers

as a fragrant gift to his absent father,

the intended recipient of this remarkable photograph.

I'm confused.

Had Gorky changed his name by this point?

No, he changed it in his twenties

after his arrival to the United States.

Celia. Sit down.

Gorky looks prematurely solemn

with almond eyes and an oval face,

his hair combed neatly to the side.

Shushan looks bravely at the camera,

challenging her absent husband with a--

Challenging? Why would you say that?

Isn't it obvious he knew the Armenians

were about to be massacred?

He went to America to prepare a life for his family.

They wanted to send him a photograph

to let him know they were still alive.

There's nothing challenging--

Gorky never understood why his father did not return.

Celia, just sit down. Come on.

Aren't you confusing Gorky's father with your dead husband?

I mean, your first dead husband?

The one who was shot by the police?

The terrorist?

Sit down. Sit down.

We're here to listen to this lecture.

Let's go.