Antwerp, Belgium's second largest city,
has one of the busiest harbors...
in the world and can pride itself...
in its rich cultural and cosmopolitan past.
On Sunday, October 8, 2000,
33% of the electorate voted...
for the extreme right wing.
This film shows a portrait
of some of the inhabitants
of the city's district of Kassablanka
during the week prior to Black Sunday.
Sunday, October 1st, 2000
one week prior to Black Sunday
Wout, open up!
Not even ten minutes of peace and quiet!
Damn' it, Berwout, I got to pee!
And a good morning to you too.
Can't you do that afterwards?
Got to take a crap.
Every morning the same thing.
And every morning talking back.
You look like a caricature,
with that ridiculous spiky hairdo.
You should take
your cousin Kevin as an example.
He at least looks fresh and clean.
Not like some half faggot
Man, just leave me alone!
He'll go places! Unlike you!
Idiot
Get dressed
or there will be a another fight.
I haven't finished yet, mom.
You'll catch a cold
with that wet hair.
It's gel, mom.
You can set your watch
by dad's bowel movement.
Still not dressed yet?
And what about her?
Yeah, easy does it, good boy.
Has Wodan been taken for a walk yet?
No, of course not!
You had to get a dog.
Then take care of it! God damn it!
So you'll do at least one useful thing.
Too stupid for school,
too lazy to work.
You need to do this? It's Sunday!
Get lost, dirty dog. Go piss elsewhere!
What on earth is your problem?
First you pee, then you run away.
You still haven't grasped it? Come.
Stupid animal.
He's got a bucket of water over him.
Not the first time, is it?
His own fault. Our Samia can be mean.
Better luck tomorrow.
See you around.
Why are you talking to this dirty pig?
Last time you talk to him, understood?
Ah, the iron monger.
- Retard.
Off to a funeral, are you?
What are you talking to my sister for?
Is that against the law?
You're stupid or what? Last time, OK?I
You better sing another tune, hear?
Control your dog or
I'll turn it into sausage.
Better watch out he won't eat you.
Or I sell it to the Chink.
Isn't there anything else to watch?
It makes me sad.
Dad got this thing with figure skating.
What?
You got this thing with figure skating.
I can't hear you.
Switch on your hearing aid.
It is switched on.
Is it my fault I'm going deaf?
He switches it off to save batteries.
My hearing aid is switched on!
Say, Yoeri, how old are you?
I'll be 21. I was born in '79.
I'm from '38.
How old are you then, grandpa?
Say, Zonhildeke, you can count, can't you?
How old is grandpa?
It isn't that difficult. He's from '38.
So you got '48, '58, '68...
...'78, '88...
...'98, that's sixty.
And you add two years to get to 2000,
that's 62.
I don't have to count every day like you.
Yeah, that's true.
- What do you mean?
You're filling the aisles
at the supermarket?
Yes, but I also have to count the stock.
At Aldi's
you got to know it all by heart.
The price of every single item.
Seven hundred prices!
They got some brainy people
at Aldi's.
Do we really have to watch this crap?
What a load of bull shit!
Yes, but I'm nevertheless thinking
of buying one.
It does lots of things
and it's clean it in no time.
Can you slice fries with it as well?
Yes, dad, we'll have French fries today.
Is it so late already?
Zonneke... are you staying for lunch?
French fries with a pork roast.
Yum-yum: fries.
- I'm on a diet.
No, we've got to go.
No one is asking me of course.
But, grandpa Josse,
you stay for lunch almost every day.
Josse.
Home already?
- Don't you hear this noise?
That bleating of these camel jockeys!
Marina, you still got to
start preparing lunch?
It's almost half past twelve.
I could've played another game of pool.
Say, who's the dimwit?
Zonneke's new boyfriend.
He's got a steady job?
- At the market.
an improvement over the last one.
He's not staying for lunch, is he?
Don't shout.
We've already got your dad, the freeloader.
Dad pays us every time 2.85 euros!
And every week he empties a crate of beer.
Take a glass, there are people.
Where is Berwout?
- Out with Wodan.
And? Will he be home for lunch?
Leave him in peace.
Ah, Zonneke.
Who's this boy?
- That's Yoeri.
And what's your father's job?
He's employed by the city.
He'd better be careful of what he says,
or they'll put him on unemployment,
just like me.
Yoeri is playing soccer as well.
As goal keeper with...
OK... we've got to go.
You can spare five minutes?
I've got something I want to show you.
Dad, do we have to do this right now?
Can't we do this another time?
We've got to go!
Daddy!
Hi.
I'm not allowed to talk to you.
Who says so?
My family and the other Moroccans.
At least not when they can see it.
That's a pity.
Why?
Wodan seems to like you.
Well, thanks.
I got to take the subway.
Bye.
It's you I've just seen over there.
So what?
You should keep away from our girls!
Why?
- Because.
Good. I've learned something today.
Don't be fresh!
Oh, I should be scared now?
Did you come here to laugh at me?
Can I pass or what?
- Shut the fuck up!
Calm down, man!
- You've got a problem?!
Hey, scumbag!
You want me to rearrange your face?
This here is my town! My town!
Fuck off!
Son of a bitch!
I'll fuck your mother!
I could handle that snotnose by myself!
Snotnose?
- He opens his trap
and an entire sheep gets out!
Hands off, Mostafa, it's for our visitor.
And a good day to you too.
You're driving me crazy.
Learn to separate:
this one is for cans, milk cartons...
...and this one for other waste.
Don't be a pain. Anything to eat?
The fridge is right in front of you.
Wrongly dumped garbage bags...
seem to be the principal
source of irritation...
to the Antwerp City garbage collectors.
For certain members
of the municipal workforce
this sometimes causes
an aggressive overreaction.
Now watch carefully.
Damn' it, Zonhilde...
...can't you just shut up for 5 minutes?
You think this is normal?
They dump everything on the street.
Open a window and onto the pavement!
Who? You're kidding me?
These sand niggers of course!
What are you laughing at?
If you're dirty,
we won't clean it up? Understood?
No, you don't even understand Flemish.
Fucking monkey!
What? What did you say?
The City of Antwerp emphasizes
that this kind of incident is exceptional!
and has promised that the city worker
in this case will be punished severely.
First I got a one day suspension,
after that it was a whole week,
then for good.
Because I had told the truth!
And because you beat up that man.
Fair is fair, Dolfke!
Who's coming to dinner?
Father invited uncle Nourredine again.
The freeloader.
- Show some respect!
He's our late mother's brother.
He has come here
to study, attend seminars.
Right. Seminars at the expense
of the mosque we pay for.
And when was your last visit
to the mosque?
Samia, just because
you can't find a husband,
you don't have to take it out on me.
Mostafa, please, switch off that radio.
You know that father can't stand it.
He isn't here, is he?
Bye, honey.
- Bye, daddy.
Mr. Van Loock.
- Bye, young man.
God Damn it!
I'm going crazy here!
It's like living inside a mosque!
Please, take your seats.
Could we please sit down? Thank you.
Everyone, sit down!
Thank you all for being here.
There are a few absentees,
but they excused themselves.
The number of Moroccans
with Belgian nationality
who showed up at the previous elections,
wasn't really impressive.
There is too much at stake
this Sunday to stay in bed.
If I'm elected, we'll have
an extra vote in the local council.
And that's one vote less for the Front.
We must convince
as many people as possible
to vote for Mohamed.
We've printed new flyers
and it's important they get to the people
and not into a waste basket.
Don't look at me.
No one is pointing the finger at you.
At our home, they don't fancy politics.
Is it my fault they throw these flyers out?
If you can't even
convince your own family to vote Moroccan,
why bother at all?
First see to it that your own father
votes for you.
Since you're living in with
your little lady here,
you're not welcome at home, are you?
You take care of your own problems, OK?
My problems? You're going to solve them?
Can you find me a job
with a name like Mostafa Fawzi?
Just because you have a Moroccan name
doesn't mean you shouldn't keep trying.
You still don't get it or what?
If you're elected and I emphasize "if",
you can sit in at some meetings,
but you think that we'll
ever have any say?
Here, we'll always be the sand nigger.
Same as in Morocco. There they call us
"endives"... Or "Bratwurst",
they think we live in Germany.
Or "cheesehead", if they think
we're from Holland, that's even worse!
Sure, laugh.
You think you can change any of that?
Good luck with your elections.
A beer.
First you pay your tab or out you go.
I haven't got any money.
Then go get some.
Have you seen my brother?
- No.
Is he going to pay your tab?
He'll pay.
- Bull shit. Get going.
Is it because I'm Moroccan or what?
Color is no issue here.
If Pierke doesn't pay his tab,
out he goes, just like you. So, scram!
Your mother is a whore! Limp prick!
Asshole!
Fuckface!
Say, Yoeri, you got any money left?
I don't think so.
Nothing at all?
- No.
Can't you go and get some?
Now?
Well, get lost then!
Don't you have to play soccer? It's Sunday.
What? At your place I'm your sweetheart
but here you treat me like shit.
Bozo. You still don't get it, do you?
Do you really think I'll
fall for a loser like you?
Say, you got something for me?
Look, it's Lars.
You OK? You got beaten up again?
You got a beating again?
There were at least five of them.
The kids from the square?
I don't know.
I was hanging out, just being silly.
They were making fun of my braces.
Chicken wire, iron yap...
And you talked back?
- Yes.
Never talk back, Lars.
Where are they?
- I managed to lose 'em.
But where are they now?
- Over there.
Come on, guys, let's go and get them.
Haven't you got anything stronger?
First you pay.
- Come on, give me a break.
Are you mad?
You think I'm going to
blow you for one pill?
This guy is trying to rape me!
What are you doing?
Nothing.
Why have you got your dick out, then?
Sleazebag.
Cocksucking Moroccan faggot!
Asshole! Vermin!
What the fuck are you on, man?
You want this guy killed or what?
I'll fucking destroy you!
We got them good.
That is... settled!
It's a pity mine ran so fast.
You're lucky he out ran you.
All this trash...
...and no one willing to clean it up.
There is something appealing about it...
...these old warehouses and stuff.
The trash...
The graffiti...
That's not what I'm talking about.
Sand niggers, faggots, politicians,
junkies... That's what should be cleared.
Cousin Kevin as "Mr. Clean"!
Go ahead, laugh.
These fucking foreigners arrive here and
right away their rules, their laws prevail.
Everything for them
and nothing for anyone else.
They breed like rabbits
to suck us dry and get whatever they like.
Then they move to another neighborhood
until everything is fucked up there as well.
It's a microbe, it's like a disease.
A virus, a spreading cancer.
Your dad been reading from
"Mein Kampf" again?
This uncle Koen is some character alright.
I bet he wishes
he was born fifty years sooner.
It's from this movie "The Matrix".
Yeah?
There aren't any Arabs in that movie.
No, there are no Arabs in that movie.
Because it's set in the future.
Get it?
There are no Arabs in that movie
because it is set in the future.
None left, because none will survive.
Listen carefully to what I'm going to say:
It is always the purest race
that wins in the end. Always!
I don't follow. A minute ago you said
that it is a spreading virus.
It's a cancer which has to be cut.
And I want to hold the knife.
You enjoyed it?
It was delicious.
- Very tasty.
Shall we wait for Rachid to serve dessert?
Rachid? He only shows up when it suits him.
And this one always shows up
at dinnertime.
He has to work late.
But he had to change his name into Nico.
What? He changed his name?
Now it's Nico Fassi.
The Italian way.
But at least, he found a job.
Unbelievable.
He changed his name.
Nico Fassi.
Hey, it doesn't grow on trees, girl!
What is your name?
You don't know me? Never seen me?
I'm Nico. Nico Fassi.
Is that Spanish?
- No. Is it important?
Italian then?
Yes... But I'm a Belgian.
You don't have to do this.
What do you mean?
Don't you like me?
That's not it, but...
...I don't know you
and you don't know me, either.
You're a real gentleman.
What with Rachid?
Leave him be, auntie. Nico is old enough.
Nico? I What's the meaning of all this?
He leaves his home
without starting his own family
and every one thinks that is OK?
I don't understand this at all!
What have you been up to, today?
Nothing.
- What do you mean, nothing?
Momo told me he saw you talking
to this tall guy from the other flat.
So what?
Leilah, don't start daydreaming.
Better get it out of your system.
Anyway, these people are racists.
Wout isn't a racist, you can sense that.
That tall fellow from the Van Loocks?
Has he done anything wrong maybe?
No, not yet.
But Leilah, his dog is called Wodan!
You still need another hint?
What are you whispering about?
Nothing.
The United States...
...the powerful and horrifying Satan...
When will be its demise
for which we long?
Who is going to do the job?
We, Islam, our faith...
...our God...
The prophet Mohamed...
...shall pray for us and for God.
To regain our unity...
To rediscover our traditions,
our very own way of life...
...instead of continuing to live...
like these people here.
We're not in Saudi-Arabia, uncle.
The Jews...
They have schools,
their own institutions...
...organized in a closed community
among themselves
without any one bothering them...
...separately from any society
and from secularism as well.
Yes, but they've got money.
We, Muslims, Islamists... If we
...begin organizing ourselves,
with our own schools, our council houses...
...with a security force of our own
to uphold respect for Islamic laws...
...to see to it that sharia is enforced
and if we start working for ourselves,
just among ourselves
instead of working for others,
for these imbeciles who give us some money
as if it were charity.
If we begin to organize ourselves,
if every Muslim works with another Muslim,
and if we organize our schools
and institutions
...in order to regain our self respect
and to create our own economy,
here in Belgium and even in all of Europe.
So that our women
can regain their dignity
instead of being laughed at every time
they walk the streets wearing a headscarf.
So our young people...
...our young men will find their way back
to God's Word...
The Holy Book of God...
...instead of chasing blond sluts
in snooker pubs or karaoke bars...
...or squandering their money
on stupid games in video arcades.
You think people lose sleep over this?
We need money and jobs!
The Belgians couldn't care less about us.
Your father... Employed for over 20 years.
In a steady job.
Yes, but we're talking about now!
Go work for a Muslim.
For the Turks? Or for our brothers?
Either way they pay poorly,
or off the books or not at all.
Have you tried?
No, but obviously, neither have you.
Wednesday, October 4, 2000
four days prior to Black Sunday
Lower that music or shall I do it for you?!
Have you read this, Marina?
- No. What?
The news store in the Carnotstraat
has been held up again, for the 4th time.
They burst in with a riot gun.
Four times, that's nothing.
Listen to this:
The shop belonging to this guy Jo
close to the pharmacist's, he's been
held up at least 20 times. What about that?
What do they want to steal?
A parakeet?
He's got an animal shop, no?
No, Marina, the other Jo,
across the street.
He went bankrupt, didn't he?
Not surprising if this foreign scum
bust in 20 times!
But that was a fraudulent bankruptcy.
He served a six months sentence.
Isn't that true, Rudolf? This Jo,
from that fraudulent bankruptcy,
he has been in prison for six months, no?
I don't remember.
Could well be...
But nevertheless, it should happen to you.
They should put them up against the wall,
it would be over quickly.
Up against the wall!
Because if you put them in jail
you still have to feed them.
And the way
it is in prison nowadays...
That's no longer bread and water...
...but restaurant fare, three times a day!
I'm telling you!
And they have a choice too, if there is one
who can't eat pork for religious reasons,
he gets chicken instead!
I'm telling you the truth.
And they all got cable. In their room.
Nowadays, it's like a hotel.
I read in the paper that
a prisoner costs 3 times more to the state
than a pensioner.
Who has been paying his entire life!
No mercy, I tell you.
Up against the wall! It's clean
and it's a lot cheaper.
And the money saved, they can give it
to these old people who have to live off
a retirement of 300 a month.
Don't open the door, Marina.
It surely is that woman who's
trying to get votes for that Moroccan,
you know, the coon
on the list for district's councilman.
You know him, don't you?
With the zits in his face
and a nose like that!
Have you decided
on your vote yet?
- No.
Could I introduce you to
Mohamed Abdelouafi?
Green candidate for the district council.
My husband is against the Greens.
But you maybe not? After all, we women
have the right to vote since '48.
We're against this. Thank you and goodbye!
Thank you and have a... good day.
You see that?
That was that Moroccan's girlfriend.
With the zits in his face
and a nose like that.
You've got to be a real slut to shack up
with one of these camel jockeys!
That's true for sure!
Wow, what's all this here?
Don't be nosy.
It's from a pal who works for the theater.
Is this wine?
- Yes, it's wine.
So sour and bitter... I don't like it.
It's a good wine though,
but you've got to learn to drink it.
You haven't got anything else?
Yes, but it costs money.
Maybe we can make an arrangement.
You sell coke for me
and you get some for free.
Isn't that a bit risky?
I don't want to land in prison.
How old are you now? Sixteen?
I'll be 17 in January.
The most you can get is a few months
in a closed youth facility.
You talk about it as if it were nothing.
Is it any better where you live right now?
And how would you know where I live?
I know more than you think I know.
Lydia looked a bit drawn today, didn't she?
It didn't stop her from jabbering, though.
She never keeps her trap shut.
It hasn't been an easy life for her.
With her mentally impaired son.
And becoming a widow at thirty-five.
She has to face it all by herself.
Haven't you got anything better to do?
At least, I have a hobby.
Hobby? You'd better iron my shirts.
I'd like to wear something nicer
than this stupid T-shirt.
Feminine for
"Lying on couch in front of a TV"
is not "Standing in kitchen ironing shirts".
How can I say my prayers with this racket?
What are you doing?
It's Oum Kelthoum.
But it's so romantic.
Not at the hour of prayer!
It is not proper!
Music, film...
...even when in Arabic...
...it is the influence of
Western civilisation...
and their cultural imperialism.
Music, film, alcohol...
...those are the causes of all misery.
In what kind of a world
do we have to raise our children?
Drugs, pornography,
Madonna, James Brown!
Don't get all worked up over this, uncle.
Before, you didn't use to be like this.
You have become much too serious.
But you're a serious girl as well.
You know something? I think
that you would be a wonderful wife.
Got to go.
Goodbye.
What?
Mom?
- Yes, dear?
You like doing this?
What, dear?
Ironing.
Who else is going to do it?
Dad could at least do his own ironing.
Yes, he tried it once.
When we were just married.
The polyester stuck to the iron.
Where are you going?
I'm going out for a walk.
Are you taking the dog with you?
Your shoelaces are untied.
You'll have to wait a minute, because
they've dumped some crap again.
And now you keep it clean, you hear?
You know the botanical gardens?
Behind the hospital.
I often go there on Wednesday afternoons.
But it is Wednesday afternoon.
Yes...
I shouldn't have done two lines.
It surely works for me.
I makes me super horny.
Say...
...you're not impotent, are you?
Turn over.
You want to do it doggy style?
You're not going to hurt me, are you?
You're not going to hurt me, are you?
So you think I'm quite a hunk, do you?
Sorry, I made a mistake.
Go lie down.
What are you doing to me?
Nobody, except for two old tarts
who're feeding the pigeons. No witnesses.
I got money, take it!
What?
- I got money.
Do you think I'm a whore?
No, sorry...
- Do I look like a whore?
Cocksucking faggot!
- Leave me alone!
So you found it.
I've never been here before.
I often come here.
Here I don't get funny looks.
Can I ask you something?
Why are you wearing a headscarf?
I mean, you don't look like a girl
who often goes to the mosque.
So you know many girls that do?
No, no.
No, but...
So... what about this headscarf...
What about this jacket with all the badges?
Are you for the Flemish Bloc?
- No, no.
I'm not, but my father is.
And my father wants me to wear a scarf.
He tells me people have more respect then.
Among Moroccans anyway.
And we're not allowed to argue, so...
Nor at my place.
I just thought you were religious.
But I am. Aren't you?
Yes...
Well, a bit.
All these signs, what's their meaning?
This one here is from the Flemish
Nationalist Youth.
A youth movement I used to go to.
It was great fun.
We would go to summer camp,
play games,
sing songs.
Flemish songs.
"Vliegt den Blauwvoet", you know that song?
You don't know, "Vliegt den Blauwvoet"?!
And lots of Afrikaner songs.
At the end of each camp, we had a "braai".
What's that?
A "braai'"?!
A Barbecue!
Then, Mom didn't want me to go anymore.
Why not?
This one evening, the leaders
had organized a midnight game...
...and we, the youngest group, had to
go from point A to point B, in the woods.
With a compass and stuff.
We're marching and marching...
...being a bit silly...
Suddenly, out of the brush
a couple of leaders jump us.
They rip off our shorts
and we had to find our way back
butt-naked in the dark.
Great fun.
And what about this sign here?
That's "Biohazard".
A band.
This "White Power" here and that one?
They're Germanic symbols.
My father had one tattooed on his arm
my mother didn't think it was funny.
How do they react at school?
I stopped going school.
Anyway, this isn't my jacket.
It belongs to my cousin Kevin.
He got it from a group leader,
but it was too small for him, so I got it.
This headscarf...
If I'm wearing it, I feel more free.
They leave me alone.
I haven't been wearing it for a long time.
These clothes neither. It's only since
we moved to your building.
Before it was like: "Where you been?"
And: "Who was that girl?"
...And "What are you wearing?"
"Who is this boy? Did you talk to him?"
Now at least, the Moroccan boys know
they shouldn't be talking to me,
or they'll have to answer to my father
to my brothers and to uncle Nourredine.
My father thinks that later on
I'll get married to a guy from his village.
But not before - and that's our deal -
I finish my studies.
I'm planning to study for a very long time.
Get it?
At least two Phd's!
You're really very smart, aren't you?
Smart but not pretty?
No, no...
No, that's not what I mean.
I think you're very pretty!
I'll buy up the whole neighborhood!
All this here will be mine...
Rien qu' moi!
Under the lamp post...
...I will take a leak.
Coca Cola, "go home"!
You should close your front door!
Stupid assholes!
What's gotten into you?
Disgusting old fart!
I can still give you a fat lump
on your noggin!
And good night to you too!
Creep!
Un petit paquet de "Camel".
Combien?
- Soixante.
Encore dix, s'il te plat.
- Encore dix?
Merci. Au revoir.
Hey, are you OK?
Watch out... I have been mugged already.
I lost everything.
You don't have to rip me off,
because I haven't got anything left.
They took everything!
You think I'm going to rip you off?
I'll call an ambulance. At the night shop.
No way! No ambulance!
I haven't got anything left.
They're all thieves...
...those guys in the ambulance.
My pockets are empty.
Hey, what's this?
I still have got something left.
It must have been yesterday then
when I got attacked.
Don't get any ideas now
that you can rip me off, brother.
Dirty sand nigger!
I want to help and you
call me a sand nigger?
I'm sorry. Mister Sand Nigger, then.
Here, wait.
Take this, stick it up your ass!
Put it away.
What are you doing? No one around.
Give it back to me!
Put your wallet away.
This way, you might get mugged.
With all these sand niggers..!
You're a good boy.
These ambulance guys are all thieves!
And sand niggers too!
And those bus drivers...
...they're sand niggers as well!
I always ride a bike.
Going already?
- It's still early,
we'll be back later.
- OK, see you.
This doesn't make sense.
- What?
I can't let you come in.
Boss's orders.
So walk on.
- You won't let me in then?
No, I can't let you in.
Because.
- You don't even know me.
And I don't want to know you.
Move away, please.
Good evening, gentlemen. Have fun!
They're allowed in?
They're what we call "regulars".
I want to be a regular too.
- Stop whining!
You're not getting in, that's it.
I got money to spend.
Still don't get it? Get lost, OK?
What do I have to do to get in?
Bring your girlfriend.
Better: bring your sis.
My sister? You know my sister? Which one?
Hakim! Long time no see, my man!
Ready to party?
You're still alive!
And? Busy inside?
Are you deaf or what? Out is out!
Momo, hey, it's Momo Fawzi!
You OK?
Why are you outside?
You know him?
- Since forever.
No problem with this guy.
You're sure?
Don't worry, drinks are on me.
I'll allow it this once.
But I hope I don't have to drag you out.
It's on my tab, Willy.
What do you drink?
I'll have a whisky and coke.
Whisky and coke.
- Same thing.
Good evening.
How are you?
Three whisky and coke, please.
Say, this doorman...
Money talks, bullshit walks.
That guy? Nothing but a poor imbecile.
You're attracted to her?
Something about her, no?
10 bucks that you can't get it on.
20 and I'm on the dance floor, with her...
...completely bare assed!
Butt-naked? Aren't you pushing it?
50 bucks if you can do that.
If you can't, the 20 are mine, OK?
50 bucks?
- Deal?
I am Momo. What's your name?
Babs.
- Babs? Pretty name.
Thanks. What's in it?
Whisky and coke.
Pleased to meet you.
- Cheers.
Are you nuts?!
Come on, 20 bucks, for just two minutes.
It's a joke with my pals over there.
You're nuts. My boyfriend is over there.
Nice boyfriend you've got
Really something to be proud of!
- Yeah...
Come on, 20 bucks!
Twenty bucks and no dirty tricks?
Well, OK then.
Look! Look!
He probably knows her, this can't be.
Give it back to me.
- Where'd you put it?
That's expensive, you know.
You just lost 50 bucks, pal.
He can pay the next round then.
I wonder how he does that.
Assholes! Faggots!
And the carpet bombing of Dresden,
no one talks about it anymore.
And that the concentration camps are
an English invention, no one should know.
And we're not even talking
about Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
History has always been written
by those who won.
Berwout, stop that at once!
You're really a little kid!
But my name is Wout, OK?
It's not what's written on your ID card.
Be proud of your beautiful Flemish name.
Marina, you tell him!
True, but Wout sounds more modern.
August Borms has witnessed it all.
How in 1914 hundreds of thousands
of Flemish soldiers were sent off to fight,
ordered about in French...
...by French-speaking officers.
Because the Germans showed respect
for the Flemish language,
he chose their side again in 1940.
And what happens after the war?
With these profiteers,
these economic collaborators,
these French-speakers?
They don't even touch them. But Borms...
what am I saying, Dr. Borms...
...they tie him to a post
and shoot him.
The bastards!
They'd better put a bullet through
the head of these sand niggers too.
Or ship 'em back in a C-130!
Open the hatch and down they go.
Without a parachute!
These coons have no respect for us.
Not for our language, not for our culture.
Otherwise they would integrate.
Japanese on the other hand...
...I got nothing against them.
They bring money...
...and they behave.
But they don't speak Flemish well, either.
Right, the oracle has spoken!
Because you know any Japanese?
Yes, the one with the friendly face, who
smiles all the time, at the delicatessen...
He is Japanese, no?
Marina, are you really that stupid?
He's Vietnamese, he's a gook!
I can't help it, to me they all look alike.
Japanese...
That is a people of gentlemen...
...a master race.
One mistake in Japan
and off goes your little finger!
And that's just for starters!
Your waffles taste good, Aunt Marina.
I'm really full.
I believe you.
You're eating me into the poorhouse.
It's your fourth.
Watch out or Dad makes you pay for it.
Little imbecile.
Time to hit the sack.
Kevin, you'll manage to get home?
And you, don't play your music too loud.
Leave the dishes, Marina, let's go to bed.
Good night, boys.
- Night, Aunt Marina.
You leaving yet or you want to come up?
I'll come up for a while.
Keep it down, for my father.
What was this about that old drunk?
Earlier on, there is this old drunk
who suddenly starts calling us "assholes".
Just like that, no reason whatsoever.
It's always without a reason with you.
I swear.
I mean, what is wrong with this
old generation these days?
They lack respect for us young people.
Not a grain of respect.
Something should be done about this.
Almost forgot.. This afternoon in the park
we taught one of those old fags a lesson.
You had a busy day, I can tell.
You should take it up as a profession.
Beating up people. Become a cop maybe?
This guy offered me money
to give him a blow-job!
I tell him: "Ho! You think I'm a hooker?"
Do I look like a whore?
This guy answers right away:
"Sorry, I apologize, I made a mistake. "
And I: "But I still look like a whore?"'
I gave him a little slap in the face and
he's on his back already.
My neck hurts.
Wait...
- Hey, no!
I'll crack it for you.
So what do you think you're going to do?
You think you're stronger than I am?
So what can you do now?
What's this? What kind of laughter is that?
Alright... I've never looked at it this way.
What's with you? That was just a laugh.
The fag in the park probably must
have laughed that way too.
What is it you're insinuating?
You think I'm gay?
Well, I mean... if that is the case,
don't make it into a problem.
You can be yourself the way you are.
You don't have to be ashamed.
- Of what?
You really think I'm a faggot?
Do you have any idea how many chicks
I've screwed?
You? I've never seen you with a girl.
I am not gay! Understand?
Can you believe this!
If you're going to repeat that once more,
I'm really going to believe you are one.
Can you lower your voices?!
What's with you?
Always this aggressiveness!
I'm fed up with it.
You think you're better than us,
with that stupid grin of yours?
Get lost!
- If you ever talk about this...
If this gets to my father...
Your father? Uncle Koen?
I've always presumed
that you were against fags
because your father is one?
With his Greek-Roman wrestling...
...and his visits to saunas.
And go camping, men among men,
swimming naked...
And I'm not even mentioning...
- Shut up.
Shut up about my father!
Come, get lost!
Get lost, I've had it with you!
And take your jacket with you!
I've outgrown it anyway.
Sunday, October 8, 2000
Black Sunday
You're off to vote?
It's still a bit early.
We have until 1 PM,
That's what the notice says.
But at that time, it's too busy.
But how would you know?
It's your first time, right?
I thought so.
I've been there already.
I'm going to the man on the 3rd floor.
He hurt his foot. Can't cast his vote now.
"One vote less for the good guys", I say.
That it should happen right now!
I tell him: "Give me your proxy".
But it seems you got to be family.
But even without his vote, we'll win.
I am telling you: "wait and see".
OK, see you.
And vote for the good guys,
it's by computer this time.
Later, at the old warehouses?
Don't you have to go and vote?
For whom? I think we've just seen
the result!
Berwout was up so early, this morning?
He's a bit off lately, don't you think?
If he sleeps late, you're not happy either.
You'd better watch your daughter.
What are you talking about?
She went to training with her boyfriend.
Nice kid. What's his name again?
Yoeri.
Right, Yoeri.
I called him yesterday,
he hadn't seen her since last Sunday.
She probably has a new boyfriend then.
To be honest, this kid Yoeri,
I didn't really like him.
Filling the aisles at the supermarket,
what future is in that?
Do you think it's normal that Zonneke
returns home at six in the morning,
looking so fit?
She's 16! Should she look worn-out?
Anyway, times have changed, Marina.
These discos open their doors at 2 AM.
Be happy that she doesn't drink!
Let's hope it isn't anything else.
What is it you want to tell me?
I don't know... drugs?
Have you ever seen a drug addict?
They look like zombies!
No, not our Zonneke?!
Are you out of your mind?
You're the specialist.
At 1 PM,
upon closure of the polling stations,
we will be able to give you
the first estimates.
Exit polls will be taken by volunteers
outside a hundred polling stations.
More information in our
Election Special.
Fresh OJ, hot croissants,
yogurt from the health store, toast,
marmalade from "Marks & Spencer's,"
"Oxfam" coffee, the world for breakfast.
Sorry, no couscous today.
Get dressed.
Are we in a bad mood?
I got just the right medicine for that.
You really have to start so early?
Come on up.
It's Zonhilde, the chick who deals for me.
You don't show yourself. In the bathroom!
Hey, it's my pad here, OK, pal?
I know,
but if you want to powder your nose,
someone has to make money.
And you are allowed to vote?
But not you yet, are you, snotnose?
Everybody gets one vote,
didn't you know, blockhead?
Every Belgian, cunt.
And what do you think we are, moron?!
Drop dead! You backward pig!
Let's wait for the results.
You'll get off your high horse then!
Swing your fists in their face
Spray these monkeys full of mace
Blow their mosques into the sky
Their religion is no apple pie
Don't give them any chance
Let's all do the couscous dance!
Keep it quiet. Inside is where you cast
your vote. Not outside. Understood?
Can I ask for whom you voted?
Sure you can.
But it doesn't mean that I have to answer.
Could I ask...
- No comment! Thank you!
Sir?
How is it to live in this neighborhood,
with its ethnic minorities?
- Excuse me?
Is it OK to live in this neighborhood
among these ethnic minorities?
Miss, you must be joking!
Here. I sold the five grams.
And you snorted some too, I guess?
How sweet!
Breakfast in bed...
No one ever did that for me.
Say, if you like,
you can try it like last time?
Greek style.
Greek style, Rachid?
Shut up.
Rachid... what the fuck... in my bed?
Nico? Who is this?
And why is he calling you Rachid?
Nico's real name is Rachid, bimbo.
Your Italian stallion is in fact
a pitiful little Moroccan who's afraid
to admit to his real sexual preference.
And that's my bed you're stinking up
with your smelly beaver, little tramp.
I want you and your stuff out in one hour!
Bye, Moroccan friend.
He's lying!
It's the cocaine talking!
Dirty sleazebag! Rapist!
Get the fuck out of here!
Silly blond slut!
It's a bit dirty, here.
It maybe wasn't such a good idea.
We can still leave.
No. Nobody can see us here.
Who's that?
- I don't know.
Shit.
Maybe it's Kevin.
If people know, I'm on the first flight out
to Morocco!
- I know. Wait.
I'll take care of it.
There is something appealing about this,
all this trash...
But look at it.
All this pigeon crap, give me a break!
You want to move in here or what?
Look, it's Wout!
Hi guys.
You've been taking a nap?
No, I thought you guys would be here,
so I came to take a look.
What's this?
A scarf. Never seen one before?
Our friend has captured a trophy!
A Muslim head rag, damn!
- Nah.
Cool! Stolen off a desert cunt!
That's A- all right!
What do you think you're doing?!
Give it back! Give it back to me!
What has got into you, man?
Go get the fuck out of here!
Or should I have a talk with your father?
Come on, guys, we're out of here!
The first estimates based on
exit polls outside the polling
stations indicate a considerable loss
for the Flemish Bloc in Antwerp.
Though these results aren't conclusive,
it seems clear that
the progress of the extreme right
in Antwerp has come to a halt.
This is really great!
Have you seen the results?
Samia, my daughter...
...today you've made me a happy man!
You've made these guys in town,
these hooligans, look like fools.
Go on, tell your uncle.
Oh, it was just a gang of skinheads
blocking our way.
She called them all kind of names
dogs, morons, pigs...
I'm very proud of you.
Yes, pour us some tea on this special day.
Usually, you have to serve uncle first,
he's the eldest.
I'm fed up.
Always this whining and bickering.
I want to leave this town, don't you?
I don't know.
It's where I was born. I would miss it.
Leilah, what happened?
- Nothing.
Where is your headscarf?
None of your business.
Who did this to you?
Contrary to the first estimates,
based on the exit polls
outside the polling stations,
it looks like the Flemish Bloc
has made a considerable progress
especially here in Antwerp where it will
surpass the 30% mark.
What did I tell you?
Exit polls, my ass!
Of course people won't tell for whom
they've voted,
they don't want to lose their job.
Over thirty percent!
Is that a lot?
Is it a lot? That's one on three!
This "cordon sanitaire," they can
stick it up their asses!
Where?
- Where the sun never shines!
Ah, at City Hall!
Now we will be in power.
Sometimes, Marina...
I wonder if you're really so dumb
or if you're just pretending.
Where is Yoeri?
- What?
Yoeri. I called him.
- Yoeri?
Woman, what's got into you?
Where did you get the idea of calling him?
You want me to look like a fool?
Be polite to your mother, you hear.
You don't give a fuck about me anyway.
Just fuck all of you!
- Zonneke!
What's with Leilah?
- I don't have a clue.
She didn't tell me anything.
Hey, Rachid!
- My brother.
I got to tell you something.
I'm going to check with Leilah.
What's this with Leilah?
She came home really upset,
I don't know why.
Say, Rachid...
What have you got to tell me?
You can tell anything to your brother.
That girl from the Van Loocks, Zonhilde...
The slutty peroxide bimbo?
I have been with her.
Have you gone totally mad?!
There are thousands of these bimbos but
you have to fuck one of the neighbors'?!
I didn't want to, but she kept pushing.
The tramp. They're all alike.
I kicked her out this morning.
This can get us into some serious trouble.
Serious trouble.
- Maybe not.
What do you mean?
Her brother, with the spiky hairdo
who hangs out with these skinheads...
I've seen him with Leilah,
close to the little bridge at the Dam.
With Leilah? And you didn't do anything?
They were gone before
I had realized it was them.
Wout, what's with Zonhilde?
I don't know nothing.
No, you never know anything!
I should have sent you to a school
for the mentally challenged.
God damn' it!
Keep your trap shut, asshole.
What?
I'm fed up with your bullshit.
And your badgering of mom and me.
And that was the last time
you're ever kicking Wodan!
What?!
I should be scared now?! Joke!
You think you're too old for a beating?
I should have beaten you up more often.
Guys...
You wouldn't have turned into a faggot
I'm fed up with your racism, too.
Always sand niggers, jungle bunnies,
dune coons, jigaboos...
When I was 4 years old, we saw this
black man driving a Mercedes Benz.
You remember what you said? "Look...
...this black monkey, in a Mercedes Benz,
a big Mercedes, paid for with our money!"
You know, until I was 10 or 11, I thought
we were driving a stupid Skoda because
a black had stolen our Mercedes! Asshole!
Come on, guys, stop this!
Marina! They're fighting!
No, you won't hit him anymore, you hear?!
For this I've been working my ass off
my whole life. For this piece of shit!
Are you proud now?
- God damn' it!
What's with you?
Your son has touched my daughter!
I don't know your daughter! Fuck off!
Tell him to show his face!
Marina, there are six of these coons
trying to break in! Call the cops! Quick!
Tell this creep to show his face!
Hello? Can you send someone?
Daensstraat 39b.
Van Loock.
But your station is close by.
What is all this? I can't take it anymore!
What have you been up to now?!
What? It's his fault again?
Marina, do something!
I swear, I'm going to commit murder!
Dad, please, stop him!
How can I stop him?
What can I do about it?
How do you want me to stop him?
Let him come out!
Come back! Come back! Coward!
Rapist! Bum boy!
Impotent sleazebag!
Shut up! All of you!
Quiet! What's going on?!
Keep this scum out of here!
Quiet! Calm down everyone!
His son touched my daughter!
Yes, so what?
Keep this scum out of my home!
You, tell it at the station!
He didn't do anything wrong!
Out! Get lost, all of you!
You wait! I'll be back to get Leilah.
Ah! Shut up!
- Look at this mess.
How is this possible?
Monday, October 9, 2000
the day after Black Sunday
They're still asleep?
- Like two angels.
And? How does it taste to kiss
a councilman elect?
It tastes like victory.
Any coffee yet?
I'll go see.
Off you go, darling.
After the shattering victory
of the extreme right in Antwerp,
the "cordon sanitaire"
has nevertheless been maintained.